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#i've had one this whole time that she's been gone
bbydoll18xx · 2 days
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I'll Be Your Temporary Fix (Pt 4)
Paige Bueckers x reader
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Part 4 based on this request:
Could you do a Paige x media team reader. Where Paige and reader are fake dating because Azzi is uncomfortable with the fans shipping her and Paige. Reader does it cus she owes Paige a favor (you can make something up).
Heyyy y'all I've lowkey been MIA (ya girl has been depressed lol) but here is part 4
Also Paige is so hot i wanna light myself on fire
Word Count: 1.8k
Themes: hella fluff
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You had held up your end of the bargain, quite swimmingly. Paige had effectively turned you into a simpering fool, and she loved it. 
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t. 
Long gone were the days of running from your feelings. Paige had you tumbling head over heels, and you wanted to confess to the whole world. It was as if she had tattooed her name on your heart. 
With fake dating being no more, there was still an air of hesitation around what the two of you actually were. You were trying to avoid obsessing over the label, but it ate at you. There were so many unknowns, and you were never one to just come out with what you were actually feeling. 
Since becoming Paige’s friend, you had always relied on her to take the reigns, while you took an emotional backseat. It was just the way the dynamic was between you two.
But now Paige had been scarily quiet on what she wanted from you. 
The two of you had spent an absurd amount of time kissing since you had run back into her arms with ample apologies. Soft kisses in the morning, bathing in the glow of the sunshine of a new day. Rushed kisses in between classes in passings. Passionate, bruising kisses in the heat of the moment after Paige basks in the glory of winning yet another game. 
You were drunk on Paige’s mouth, but the inebriation was not enough to distract from the incessant questions your mind whispered at each waking moment.
So before your anxieties could overtake you once more, you had decided that you would ask Paige out on a proper date.
And so you did.
Taking a deep breath, you walk inside Paige’s apartment. It was now a familiar environment, and the homey atmosphere calms your beating heart. ‘It’s just Paige,’ your brain soothes your sympathetic nervous system, as it tries to go into overdrive. Fighting against your instincts to flee, you stroll into Paige’s bedroom with a soft smile on your face.
The tall girl had fallen asleep, and she was curled up in purple bed sheets looking as angelic as ever. Her blonde hair fanned across the pillows, and her plush bottom lip was jutting out in a precious pout that reminded you of a childs. You wanted to remember this forever. 
You tentatively sit on the edge of the bed, placing a small hand on Paige’s cheek, feeling the warm, soft skin. Your touch rouses her from her slumbers, and Paige gives you a sleepy grin as she realizes it’s you.
“Hi, baby,” she mumbles, voice husky with sleep. 
“Hey, sleepyhead,” you tease softly. “Did ya get bored waiting for me?”
Paige just chuckles, and your belly flips at the familiar sound.
“Doyoumaybewannagoonadatewithme…? you spill out, practically babbling in a desperate effort to just get it all out before you lose your courage.  
Your rapid wording flies over Paige’s still drowsy head, and she responds with a bewildered, “Huh?”
You swallow your pride once more, and with a deep breath you repeat yourself, much slower this time. “Do you want to go on a date? With me?”
Paige’s blue eyes widen, and her tongue darts out of her mouth to run across that fucking bottom lip again, and she nods. A grin is spreading across her face, and the swarm of butterflies that were assaulting your stomach a few seconds ago have flown away, leaving a wave of calm to wash over you. 
Trying to figure out where to take Paige was a whole other issue that had crept up on you. You were not used to having much control when it came to planning dates, and it had to be fucking perfect. You wanted to avoid the typical dinner and a movie routine; that was boring. Other activities would be difficult with Paige’s popularity, and you needed to evade the hoards of her adoring fans. 
You finally decide to take her go-karting. It was perfect. It appealed to her competitive edge, and it was super fun. You packed a bunch of her favorite snacks, and you were all set. 
Wiping your sweaty palms on your pants, you knock on Paige’s door to pick her up. The nerves threaten to make you turn on your heels and flee once more, but you resist. Paige opens the door with a cheesy smile that causes a visceral reaction from you. She would never not make you feel a million things all at once. She looked you up and down, a flirty expression on that beautiful fucking face of hers. 
“Lookin’ good, babe,” she murmurs, and your face heats up at the compliment. 
“You look gorgeous, P,” you declare in response, thus eliciting a similar flush that has you smirking in pride. Pulling a blush out of Paige Bueckers was always an accomplishment. 
You take her hand in yours and lead her to your car, and you allow her to connect to the aux. She looks at you in surprise. “You never let me listen to my music in your car.” 
“It’s your lucky day,” you tease with a small laugh. “I can go without Taylor Swift for a bit; this day is about you.” Paige beams, and your decision makes it all worth it.
You would kill someone just to keep that pretty smile on her face. 
You drive to the go-kart track with your right hand intertwined with Paige’s, and it was your turn to rub small circles on the back of hers. The domesticity of everything was bringing you much hope that this would all turn into more. Now that you had a taste of what it was like to belong to Paige, you knew it would be nearly impossible to give it up without a brutal fight. 
As you arrive, you’re pulled out of your thoughts by Paige’s loud gasp as she realizes what the two of you would be doing this afternoon. 
“Go-karting? Babe. I’m gonna kick your ass!” 
Her taunting just makes you laugh, and you shake your head fondly as she gets out of the car and bounds toward the door, dragging you along in faux impatience. 
The building is void of the usual busy crowd, and Paige notices the lack of people quickly. Seeing the confusion wash over her face, you explain that you pulled a few strings using your media manager status in order to have a little privacy. Paige says nothing. Instead, she pulls you in by the waist to press her lips against yours in an appreciative kiss, and you know this was the right call. You chase her lips and subconsciously go up on your tiptoes in an effort to get even closer.
The moment is interrupted as the manager of the facility walks over to where the two of you were standing, and introduces herself. She explains that you would have the place to yourselves for the next four hours, and she goes over how to work the go-karts. 
By the time the manager leaves, giving you and Paige the privacy you had wanted since arriving, Paige is bouncing on her heels in pure, child-like excitement that makes you equally as giddy. 
She bounds over to a brightly-colored purple go-kart, claiming loudly that it belonged to her, as you seat yourself in a green one. You watch her as she pulls the harness across her chest and tightens it, her tongue peeking out once more in concentration.
She was so endearing, and the feelings you were having had grown tenfold since she had originally asked you to pretend to date her just a few weeks prior. You weren’t sure if you would survive actually dating her. Just the thought made your heart feel as if it could explode at any moment. 
Your daydream is cut short by Paige who is now attempting to trash-talk you. However, her insults were hardly so, as she was having a similar issue with handling her affections for you, as well. 
“Mkay, I’ll believe it when I see it,” is all you get out before Paige is speeding away with a loud squeal and a cloud of gasoline. You barely mutter out a “fuck” before slamming your foot on the gas in a feeble attempt to catch up.
No such luck. 
Paige actually was incredible at go-karting, and her smugness had no limit. 
She walked out several hours later, one hand around yours once more and the other raised in the air, pumping her fist victoriously for the millionth time.
If it was literally anyone else, you would have felt mildly annoyed at her antics, but your fondness overtook any other possible emotions in your little love-drunk brain. 
As you climb back inside your car to head back to Paige’s, you allow yourself to study the features of the blonde, and you’re ecstatic to see the similar looks of happiness on her face. You had been counting on this day being a success. 
“I had a really fun time today. Thank you for doin’ all this for me,” Paige whispers sincerely with a flush of pink overtaking her pale skin. 
“I’d do anything for you, P,” you respond, struggling to maintain eye contact with your sudden candor. “I just don’t know where your head has been, but I’d like to be more than friends. And more than just friends who pretend to date to help their other friend,” you add with a quiet laugh.
The sheer absurdity of the situation was finally settling in. And you were hoping to be able to reap some long-term benefits of having to pretend to date Paige.
Paige places a hand on your face, cupping your cheek delicately and forcing you to gaze deep into those blue eyes. “Course I wanna be more,” she murmurs, her voice raspy from the combination of the emotions and the amount of yelling she had done earlier. “You’ve been my girl since that day in the gym when you agreed to fake date me. Now it’s just official.”
“Good,” you reply, a smug smirk engulfing your expression, and before you can say anything else, Paige is pulling you into another searing kiss.
“What are we gonna tell the team?” you ask between kisses, puffs of air leaving your swollen mouth every few seconds.
Paige shrugs. “They’ve been wanting me to try and get together with you for years. Now that I’m thinkin’ ‘bout it, I feel like Azzi made up the whole thing just so I would kiss you…” she trails off, a look of realization flitting across her face. 
A giggle escapes from your throat at the determination of Azzi Fudd to get the two of you together. And boy, were you grateful for the little scheme.
thanks so much for reading. i love you all :)
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im ab to be annoying ab dimension20 fhjy but im genuinely loving the character arcs for the bad kids this season?
kristen going from self-annihilatingly stupid to trying to build a genuine bridge with the man who not only wielded the religion that traumatised her (bobby dawn), but also was trying to ruin her life, just bc she thought a grieving father ought to be comforted in some way? her genuine distress at being unable to revivify buddy even though the two had only had negative interactions, or her biting her tongue in front of her parents so she could better look after her little siblings? grappling with the fact that she still, on some level, expected practising religion to be easy and convenient for her as a holdover from an entire childhood spent being a Chosen One, and finally putting her nose to the grindstone and committing to working her ass off for a deity that couldn't even benefit her for a hot minute? making an effort to be cordial with tracker's new gf and letting go of that codependency? the kristen applebees from ep20 would NOT do all the same stupid shit as ep1 and i love that.
fabian being humbled by the narrative again and again has been an absolute treat for his character. the whole ivy/mazey situation was great: freshman/sophomore year fabian would've gone for ivy no sweat, i mean her character seemed pretty similar to pre-redemption aelwyn and he had a huge crush on her then. but this time, when he realised he'd hurt a genuinely great person, and intentionally swallowed his pride to make it up to mazey, even though it required him being 'uncool' with the whole twister thing. his general arc of learning that earnestness and humility doesn't make him less of a man felt like a natural extension of fabian defining his own version of masculinity- sure, a 'maximum legend', but also someone deeply involved in the arts, and someone who is less afraid of saying sorry and being vulnerable in front of someone he likes
fig. fig fig fig. what a woman. its been absolutely fascinating watching build her sense of identity over these three seasons. at her core, fig is a character that loves so deeply. in freshman, she was terrified of the depth of her own devotion, so she tried to distance herself emotionally from everyone. in sophomore, she built herself around that love for other people. in junior year, fig's arc has been learning she can do both: that she's defined by her love for others, but not solely by it. ik emily wanted to retire the character before this season but i think fig's paladin arc was the best capstone to her journey possible.
gorgug's arc has been about establishing clear boundaries for himself and i love it. im aware there's been some Discourse ab the mango soda scene but to me that was pretty easily chalked up to teenage insecurity. a big part of gorgug's arc was trying to believe in himself when everyone around him told him he was too dumb to follow his passion- imagine struggling in an area that you have no natural aptitude for, and someone comes along and also trounces you in the one area you thought you were the best in. i'd be petty and reactive too (gorgug follows up calling her a freak with the fact that she beat the shit out of him, so its clearly him just still smarting from a bruised ego and not actual malice). in general, i've really like gorgug learning to put his foot down and say enough is enough without completely losing his gentleness.
adaine hasnt had an obvious arc, but considering she addressed most of her baggage in the first two seasons, i'm not surprised. i would've liked to see the other bad kids address her 'teenage adult' behaviour, but her self-awareness about it and relying on fabian to pull in clutch for the oracool stuff still felt like she'd learned to rely on her friends at least + her reaching out to aelwyn and the two of them healing from their parents together has been rewarding it its own right.
riz is perfect and has learned nothing. his neuroticism is part of his natural swag
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weaveandwood · 2 days
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Writing prompt - You and Gale are in the markets - What happens next.
I'm sorry if these annoy you.
These never annoy me! I love writing them. I've had some pretty intense writer's block this week, and I think this one helped me work through it. Happy Saturday!
NSFW 18+ Word Count: 2200 CN: Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Gale x Named Female Tav
“What do you think? The sweet roll stand next?” Ora asked, her hands full of boxes and bags from the shopping they had just finished up at the Waterdeep market. She had been home for a month, a whole glorious month, and they had settled into something comfortable. She hadn’t gotten that far off look in her eye at all this extended break, and Gale’s anxieties about waking up to find her gone without a trace had disappeared. 
It was an unseasonably warm fall day - not that Gale was complaining. His wife flourished in the sunshine, and though she was never really one to show a lot of her skin in public, when she got warm she tended to wear a top without sleeves. This one had thin straps and was deliciously low cut, showing off one of his favorite parts of her body - though if he were being honest, everything about her body was his favorite. It was all he could do not to stare, and she had caught him more than once in just the last hour. Gale, eyes up here, she had said, playfully bumping into him as they walked down the crowded street. I’m sorry, you are just so beautiful, I can’t take my eyes off of you. You can’t blame a husband for admiring his wife, he had replied in an attempt to save himself from further teasing. 
He held some of the boxes and watched her make small talk with the vendor, who had become fast friends with her once she was home more regularly. She asked about her latest adventure, how her poor husband was faring without her, if she had tasted any better rolls in any of her travels. “Never, I always look forward to getting these ones, best in Faerun!” Ora responded with her sincere smile that lit up her face and made Gale fall deeper in love, if that was even possible. Still, it was impossible to not notice from his vantage point behind her how her leggings hugged every curve, the years of adventuring honing her body into a masterpiece. One that he was finding he needed to get his hands on. Soon.
Ora turned around then, a small box of rolls in hand and caught Gale with a dark look in his eyes. One she recognized well, one she loved being on the receiving end of. 
“See something you like, sir?” She smiled at him as he moved his eyes slowly up her body, taking her in, committing her to memory just as he did every single time he looked at her. He closed the distance between them, leaning down and whispering in her ear. 
“It is taking all my self control right now not to take you into a dark side street and take these maddening clothes off of you and show you just how much I like what I see.” 
A sharp intake of breath. She liked when he spoke to her like this, detailing the things he wanted to do to her. “Hmm, it’s really too bad Waterdeep doesn’t really have dark side streets at midday, I would be quite willing to go along with your request. You know, it’s a shame I don’t wear dresses really, I see how they can be convenient for this kind of activity. What are you going to do about this problem?” She smiled, a devilish look on her face.
Gods, he loved her. 
“The tower is much closer than the cabin from here…” he trailed off. They hadn’t spent much time in the tower since that third Midwinter Festival when everything went wrong. Still, they were almost at the end of the market. “Or there’s the inn a street over that we could rent for the night. Repeat our second Midwinter?” He remembered that night fondly - the night with the glowing rabbits. The night he was so nervous she wouldn’t show up. The night she did, and made him believe that they could be real again. 
“Let’s go to the corner and then you can cast Dimension Door to get us to the tower?” she said, surprising Gale who completely forgot in his desire that he could essentially get them anywhere he could see. Usually, he preferred to take a leisurely stroll through his beloved city. “Quickly,” she added. This was not the occasion for a leisurely stroll.  
A short, dizzying time later, they stood in front of the tower, Gale unlocking the warded door. As it opened, he let Ora enter first. He shut the door behind them and put the boxes on the entry table before grabbing her hand, spinning her around and kissing her deeply. 
“I’ve been wanting to do that since we walked into the market.” He smiled, leaning his forehead against hers. “You are addictive.” He reached down to her top, untying the lace keeping it tight against her body, loosening it slowly. He trailed kisses from her lips, to her cheek, to her neck. He felt her breathing pick up as he ran his fingers along them hem of her top, slipping under it and lifting it over her head. He stepped back, looking at her - this woman who was so beautiful, so fearless, so sexy, and somehow his. She made eye contact with him as she kicked off her boots, then quickly pulled down her leggings and underwear, leaving her naked in the entryway of the tower. 
He pounced. 
His hands were everywhere. He honestly needed more hands, his desire to feel every inch of her skin was so great he contemplated conjuring a few before deciding against it. For now. He pressed her against the wall, kissing her with a fervor reminiscent of when he was a younger man, an apprentice at Blackstaff, eager to impress, eager to bed equally eager classmates.Their tongues slid against each other as Ora reached between them to unbutton his linen shirt. He quickly shrugged it off, tossing it across the room. 
“Gods, you’re so...perfect” she said, looking at him in wonder as though it was her first time seeing him. As though she didn’t say the exact same thing the night before as they made love in front of the fireplace in the cabin. His lean, athletic build, though not as muscular as he once was when they met, the fine smattering of hair across his chest, down his stomach, leading even further down his body, and his gorgeous skin tone ticked all her boxes. He was everything she desired. She kissed his neck and he unbuttoned his linen pants and quickly let them pool to the floor along with his underwear before kicking them out of the way. 
He reached up to her breasts, the objects of his desire all morning. He paid them proper attention with his hands before bending down, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking on it lightly, feeling it get hard before moving to the other one. He flicked his tongue over them, her soft moans only steering him onward as he kissed his way down her body as he got on his knees in front of her. He stopped at each small scar on her stomach - some from her times as a Scout, some from their own adventure, some newer. Each scar was given reverence and appreciation for healing and not taking her from him. She looked down at him, his own personal goddess, and he was here to worship. 
She gasped as he placed one hand on her stomach, the other lifting her leg to drape over his shoulder. He looked up at her and with a flattened tongue, licked her from her entrance to her swollen bundle of nerves. She laid her hands on his head, her fingers tangling in his hair as she adjusted her angle, using both him and the wall for support. He continued licking, tasting her, humming softly against her soft skin, slick with her own arousal as she moaned softly, faint echoes reverberating through the entryway with its high ceiling. She sounded like music.
“You taste so sweet, my love,” he said as he looked up at her, leaning his head against her thigh that was resting on his shoulder. He gently lowered her thigh from his shoulder, kissing it gently. He kissed her hip bone, then back up her stomach. His tongue dragged a path from her breasts up to her neck, and she felt him pressing against her, hard with want.  “But now, I need to feel you around me,” he said softly into her ear, his warm breath sending tingles through her body. “Shall we pretend we’re in that dark side street now, my love?” He whispered the spell for darkness near her ear, a faint purple glow emanated from his hands as he channeled the Weave, his movements confident and assured as the light disappeared from the entryway. 
“You do know I can still see, right?” Ora laughed as kissed him, the elven side of her heritage giving her darkvision, able to make out Gale as if he was bathed in a dim grey light. 
“Well, we will have to remedy that,” he said, his hand caressing her face lightly, feeling the shape of it. Running the pad of his thumb over her soft cheek, tracing its way down the deep scar he loved, though she had been a little self conscious about it when their relationship had transitioned from flirtations to something more. She was so fierce. He put his hands on her waist, turning her around to face the wall. He kissed the back of her neck, hearing her breath catch. He pressed against her, his hardness pressed into her delicious curves. 
“I need you, Gale. Now,” she moaned as he flicked the tip of her ear with his tongue, driving her mad. She arched her back, pressing her hips back against him as his hands roamed over her backside. He kissed her shoulder as he wrapped one hand around himself, pulling her hips back slightly with the other to get a good angle as he positioned himself at her entrance. 
“Then you shall have me,” he whispered as he pressed into her, slowly at first - he always loved the feeling of her giving around him as he entered her, her warm body enveloping him. He moaned as she took him as far as he would go, fully seated inside her. “Gods, Ora, you…” he lost his train of thought as he pulled his hips back and thrusted into her again. And again. And again. 
“Have I made…the verbose Gale Dekarios…speechless?” She panted as he pressed her into the wall, her chest flat against it. Her hands braced against the wall to give them both a little leverage and support. She was completely his for the taking. 
His arm wrapped around her waist, his hand pressing flat against her stomach to hold her close to him, his chest against her back. He preferred being able to see her face while fucking her, but holding her body tight against his was nearly as good. He moved his hips faster, the sound of their pants and moans echoing through the high ceilings of the entryway. 
“You take the words from my mouth whenever I am inside you. You render me quite incapable of coherent thought.” He held on to her tighter, one of his hands lowering down her stomach, reaching between her legs to rub her sensitive clit, to help her find her release as he felt his own approaching. “I love you,” he moaned as he kissed her shoulder, sucking it lightly.
She called out his name, her breathing labored as her knees buckled slightly. He dug his fingers into the soft skin of her abdomen to support her better as he felt her starting to tighten around him. “That’s it, Ora, come for me. Please, let me feel you come around me,” he panted, fucking her hard, his hips snapping against her with each deep thrust, a fire pooling low in his abdomen. 
“Gods!” she cried out, arching her back more as she reached her peak. He felt her pulse and flutter around him, sending him crashing over his own precipice. He closed his eyes and threw his head back as he felt himself fill her up, his own cries joining with hers to form a beautiful chorus. 
Spent, he pulled out of her, kissing the back of her neck, her earlobe, her shoulders. He turned her around and pressed her back against the wall again before kissing her deeply. 
“I love you,” he said before he channeled the Weave again, bringing light back into the entryway so he could look upon his love. He tucked a strand of hair that had worked its way loose behind her ear, smiling as he did. She smiled back at him, and his heart swelled. 
“I love you, too.”
He kissed her deeply, then took her hand, leading her up the stairs to the bedroom, to the bed they once shared. They stayed there all night, making love in it twice more before the sun rose the next morning and they went back to their cabin.
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morgansunflower · 2 days
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Home Again
Bruce Wayne X Kent! Kryptonian! Reader
Warnings: character injury, angst, explicit language and injury.
Words: 1234
Requested taglist@too-strong-to-lose @asrainterstellar
Arthur's notes! Batmom is Clark's sister. Kon is the second clone of Bruce and Y/N. He is found when Tim is Robin and is 9 years old. Unlike his brother Conner(who is 19), he does continue aging physically.
With Bruce's back broken by Bane. Conner takes his, place as Batman temporarily. Little Kon runs off feeling afraid as he's completely out of control. Jason is naturally surprised when he shows up at his place.
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Kon gazed intently with much dismay to his Dad as he laid in the bed. He was wearing a back brace from Bane bending his spine, breaking his back. He had a IV giving him antibiotics. He hears his Dad's heartbeat that was weak. The heart monitor was like a, loud speaker against his little ears.
He swallows hardly hearing Bruce's soft winces in pain. Kon couldn't stand it. Before his mother could look to his distraught face.. He speeded to his room.
Noticing their little brother was absent. Cass and Tim tried to comfort him. Once he wouldn't answer their pleas. They applied pressure to Kon's bedroom door but found that it was to no avail.
Kon had heard their footsteps and sat in front of his door so they wouldn't see, him quite this upset.
"Kon listen to me buddy. Bruce is gonna be OK" Tim promised him
Tim pushed at the door again and this time it opened however revealed Kon.. Was gone.
"shit" Tim cursed..
Kon could be anywhere. The whole family excluding their mom was notified, as they thought she was already worried enough. No one knew where he was. Conner unfortunately was a bit busy at the moment taking Batman's place.
Jason puts on his jacket and curses every word he knew. He opens the door abruptly and felt as if he was hit by a train. He takes a deep breath. There in front of his door Kon-El Wayne, nearly soaking wet from the rain pouring down...
"dammit kid are you trying to catch a cold!" Jason scolds with a deep worry in his voice he tried to conceal.
Jason let's Kon in and let's everyone know Kon's safe.....
Jason walks to his room grabbing a t-shirt and one of his black motorcycle jackets in his closet. He comes back to Kon who was strangely silent and very still...
"here put these on" Jason ordered tossing the clothes to his little brother.
Kon took off his wet shirt and put on Jason's shirt with his jacket. Both items of clothing nearly engulf him.
Jason opens his fridge. What would he like? Bread?.. Guess he's stuck cooking. Jason preheated the oven and gathered ingredients for cookies..
"you know how to bake?" Kon asked giggling
Jason quirked his eyebrow "do you want the food or not brat?"
"just kidding" he laughed "want some help?" he offered
"sure" Jason accepted
The two brother's made cookies together and once they were done. They enjoyed them, while sitting on the couch. Kon sighed softly to himself waiting for Jason to something.. Anything... But he said nothing.
"are you not going to ask me why I'm here?"
"no heard about Bruce figured you needed to take breather. As to why you chose my place of all wonderful places in Gotham.. I'm curious, otherwise you don't have to tell me anything"
Kon shrugged.. "I guess cause you're fun"
"you guess?" Jason laughs "damn am I that terrible?"
"no" Kon laughs "I've been here for a few hours.. I probably need to get back home"
Jason grabs his keys to his impala "it's still pouring down rain. I'll give you a ride home"
Kon couldn't deny that it was certainly not like Jason to go to the Manor without a real emergency. He certainly wasn't going to tell him no..
As they arrive at the Manor. Kon reaches for the handle to open the car door, but hesitated. He looks to his older brother with pleading eyes, begging him to come. Jason's expression remained blank.
"you're not coming inside. Are you?"
"nope. Tell.. Tell everyone I said hi" Jason told his little brother
Kon reaches up hugging Jason's neck. He was naturally surprised as Kon NEVER hugged him, at least certainly not moments like this. As he let's go he super-speeded inside the Manor. Jason smiled softly and reaches to turn the key, but felt nothing.
He scoffed with a wry smile "that little thieving brat"
Jason opens his car door intending to go inside, get his keys and get out in one swift motion. Hopefully undetected by his family of super-hearers and detectives.
Y/N lovingly touched Bruce's forehead rubbing it gently with her thumb. He tilts his head gently kissing the palm of her hand.
"Jason's home. He's OK" she softly said
Bruce only smiled softly. He could feel the bit of worry in her touch against his cheek. He wished speaking wasn't so painful. He wished he could hold her and promise her that he's OK.
Jason tried to walk slower past the recovery room of the Manor. He thinks he's made it as he made it past the door.
"Jason" she said
Jason sighed heavily turning around to look to his, mom "look Kon just showed up so I came to drop him off and the little brat stole my keys. So I'm just getting the back" he defends
"I see.. How are you doing?" she asked
Jason sighed "... I'm okay. How's B?"
"he's in a lot of pain but he'll be OK. Have you been sleeping any better?" she softly questioned
".. I have my nights.." he shrugged "I'm sorry Ma but I gotta go I'll try to be by tomorrow.. Maybe"
Before he took another step his mother embraced him. She feels his hesitant arms wrap around her. Y/N hears his heartbeat slowly calm down to a softer beat.
"I love you son" she smiled kissing his head
Jason let's go of her before he truly becomes emotional...
".. love you too Ma" he gently said
Jason went to the family room seeing Tim, Cass and Kon. All three were watching a movie together. Cass paused the movie smiling to her brother.
"hey Jay! Didn't expect you to hang around. Want to watch the movie with us?" Tim offered in a inviting tone
"nah I came to collect something of MINE" Jason said looking at his little brother
"I don't know anything about it!" Kon playfully defends folding his little arms and looking away
"keys twerp!" Jason said with a open hand.
"here" Kon scoffed tossing Jason his keys that he easily caught "oh your jacket!" Kon motions to take the clothing off. "and your shirt" he then chuckled.
"keep 'em. It'll make up for me missing your birthday last month" Jason smiled to him ruffling his hair
"thanks Jason" Kon grinned giving him a genuine hug.
"don't mention it bud" Jason smiled "well I guess I better get going"
"noooo!!" Kon whined holding his brother tightly so he couldn't move.
"c'mon don't disappoint the little munchkin" Tim pleads
Cass put her hands together in a pleading manner. Jason sighed with a small smile shaking his head no
"Jason? I didn't know you were home" Dick smiled
"hey Jay! Glad to see you're still alive and well" Duke joked
"just dropping by" Jay scoffed
"you sure? It's been a while since you've stayed" Conner pleads stepping into the room
Alfred stepped in with a cart of assorted snacks and desserts. Everyone looked to Jason hoping they'd change his mind.
"Master Jason. Would you care for a bite?" Alfred kindly offers
"thanks Alfred but--humph" he grumbled unable to get Kon off of him. He was a little overwhelmed by the affection by well.. Everyone "unfortunately I don't have time for snacks"
"please" Kon begged
"alright fine! But only for a hour!" Jason scowled defeated but deep down.. He missed home.
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burning-academia-if · 12 hours
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Hello-hello! I'M FLUFF-APOLOGIST HERE TO 180⁰ ANGST and make it potentiall bittersweet fluff?
That one evil ask about breaking up... What if ROs discover that MC broke up with them to actually protect ROs? Like some mission gone high-wire or a threat by something evil and MC loved RO so much that they hurt them so they won't be involved with the danger 😭
This is so Rook-core of MC lol pt 1 here
Rook: It's hard to be mad when he's had a similar mindset towards you his whole life. He gets it, but he also doesn't like it. Was that how you felt that whole time, when he kept you at arms length? He hates it, "Let's stop running from each other like this. Please."
Beck: It's a rush of complicated emotions. Relief that it isn't because you didn't love him, and a stabbing sadness you didn't trust him to handle it or felt you had to handle it on your own. "Let me stay with you, even if it gets dangerous. I'll be fine."
Rhea: Everyone has always done the opposite with her, pushing her into hard situations because it's her. This extreme consideration throws her for a loop, but she's been through hard things. She isn't running from you, or letting you run from her, regardless of
Zoe: They understand wanting to protect someone, but you could have told them. They would have figured it out, they would have tried to help. Just give them a chance to help, and don't keep doing things on your own. You're not alone anymore
Lars: He'd be pissed you didn't think he could handle it. He doesn't want to be protected, he wants to deal with anything thrown at you together. He knew from the start you had a lot going on and he didn't run from you then. Why would he do so now?
???: They confront you the moment they find out, "What are you trying to protect me from? I've been coarting danger since the minute we became connected. What you bring is of little concern." Even if you refuse to get back together, they're refusing to let you deal with this burden on your own
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pluckyredhead · 1 day
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☕️ aged up lian
SIGH. I've mostly made my peace with it now, but I was very upset when it happened, because this fucking always happens to kids in comics, and like...she deserved to have her childhood! Roy deserved to get to raise his daughter! We deserved to not have to sit through this cliche for the hundredth time! I JUST WENT THROUGH THIS WITH JON KENT, HOW DARE YOU.
It also made me mad because, like...Shoes was an obviously completely different character who'd been appearing in Catwoman for months until DC randomly decided that she was Lian. There was absolutely no reason to do that. Lian coming back in no way necessitated her being a teenager. It was a stupid, arbitrary choice made for a one-off issue that had long-term consequences for a character who had already been treated terribly.
Also, the Arrowfam is lousy with teens/young women already: they have Emiko, Mia, Cissie, and now Red Canary. Obviously I love all of these characters and am glad they are back (well, I have no opinion on Red Canary, DC has told us almost nothing about her), but having a bunch of characters with similar ages and similar looks makes it more likely that some of them will get written out or quietly disappear. Especially with Sin coming back (and also aged up), that's four young Asian women associated with the Arrowfamily, and it makes me nervous that DC will put some of them in mothballs. That would be much less likely to happen if Sin was still 12-ish and Lian was still 6-ish (or whatever). Again, see Jon Kent and how DC doesn't seem to know how to handle having him and Kon around at the same time.
The current GA book is so good and Lian is being handled so well that it's gone a long way towards making me feel better about the whole thing. But I was big mad when it happened and I still think it was the wrong choice.
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My first "sorry, but I need to vent and will likely delete later once I've had a second to cool down" post. TW: baby stuff, animal health issues, and just generally feeling overwhelmed
Going to start by saying that I knew this wouldn't be easy and that I wouldn't change anything for the whole world. My little one and I are currently on my bench in the garden, swinging gently under a gorgeous dappled sky as I attempt to catch my breath.
These last couple days have been rough. Galen is going through one of what I'm sure will be many sleep regressions, so I'm getting a few hours sleep here and there but nowhere near enough, and he seems to have developed a couple dietary sensitivies, so I need to be even more careful and restrictive about what I eat. I have no qualms with that, of course, but it does mean several days of intense messes from both ends before that change really helps, plus making it harder for me to feed myself since most grab and go things are now off the table. So I'm constantly having to clean up myself, him, and whatever else gets caught in the crossfire, which also tends to mean changing clothes several times a day for both of us. Given the, yuh know, physical changes I've gone through, I don't have a ton of clothes that even fit right now, so I'm also doing laundry every other day.
Now let's add some more fun. Keep in mind, my hubby is already back to work full time and in the final stretch of his bachelor's degree before starting his masters, so he's insanely busy before throwing a baby into everything. Our roommate (long story short: I never wanted a roommate, but he's a friend and an honestly amazing person, though terribly naive - he was left in a desperate situation from an abusive relationship. What I thought would only be a very short stay turned into nearly 2 years while he tried to recover financially and deal with legal fallout) has a toddler half the week who has unintentionally woken my son up several times which, for those of you who've dealt with newborns, isn't great. That being said, we were thrilled that he was volunteering to babysit when I return to work. Now, however, he's suddenly moving in with a different friend the week I'm scheduled to start working again, so I'm going to have to do night shifts to avoid relying on childcare facilities. This is absolutely the right choice for him for various reasons, and I fully support his decision, but the timing is just really shitty.
And the thing that finally threatened to break me today? Pet troubles. Over the last few months, we've dealt with a few thousand dollars worth of surprise vet bills for one cat refusing to use the litter box (for which we've found no solutions and, as a last ditch effort, have just started, I shit you not, giving him antidepressants), another cat dealing with chronic ear infections (surgery and a biopsy revealed that it may be cancer, but, since this cat is almost 16, the kindest thing is to essentially assume it *is* cancer rather than do more tests, so she's on palliative care, aka hospice until quality of life becomes a concern, which may be sooner rather than later just looking at her ear last night...), and finally: a dog who suddenly had acute gland issues in an unsavory place (to offer a bit of censorship) which also required a minor surgery. Now however, she's suddenly having major incontinence issues, which the vet can't explain despite me forking out even more money for more tests (inconclusive, of course)...
Thus leads to today. My roommate accidentally woke my son up this morning before leaving for work. He then refused to sleep or even be set down afterwards, and my husband had already left for his job. Queue me juggling a tired 3 month old (if yuh know yuh know) with digestive issues, an incontinent German shepard, insurance issues with the HR gal from my work (not even going to try to get into that nightmare), and the need to *make* his bottles (again, if yuh know yuh know) which takes 30 minutes alone. So I'm holding my baby in one arm because he screams the second I put him down and mopping with the other to clean up after my dog, all while trying not to dislodge said contraption from my chest because that needs to be done on a schedule to maintain production, before I can get us ready to get to the vet for even more medication for my dog (we're assuming it's a uti even though the test was inconclusive. The urine was too diluted to tell - I'm waiting to hear back from them if they suspect potential kidney issues).
Y'all. I'm tired. I'm distraught that it looks like I'll be losing my two oldest pets before the end of the year (my cat from cancer and the German shepard from general quality of life (she's 11 and the joint issues are starting to really become an issue), and I haven't had time to do hardly anything for myself in months unless I sacrifice sleep to do it. I'm almost desperate for even a couple of hours to just sit in front of my computer. I have several half-written responses to folks on here and in Discord that I haven't been able to finish, and there's so much I want to chat about. Plus, fuuuuuck I miss writing. Do you have any idea how hard it is to write a giant smut chapter when I can only do it in tiny chucks? And I'm frothing at the bit to get on with the actual story...
Deep breath.
Apologies for the insanely long vent, but I already feel better just for having written it. The fresh air did the trick and Galen is finally asleep in his bed. My floors are clean (ish), and I might just have a couple minutes to actually eat something other than vegan protein bars or tuna salad thrown precariously on a piece of bread. Again, I don't regret a damn thing. Today, things just caught up with me a bit. I love and miss you guys ❤️
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cactusdodes · 1 year
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dredshirtroberts · 6 months
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yeah guys idk I'm just thinking maybe the lightheadedness and desire to sit down about halfway through putting away groceries my whole life might not have just been a reaction to the way my parents were when i was a kid and the accompanying anxiety and sudden flurry of movement, but also possibly maybe i have a Health Thing about this...
#thank god i finally scheduled that doctor's appointment#Jan 15 cannot come quickly enough tbh#like i've streamlined getting shit put away and i hurry as soon as the wooziness starts hitting because i know i'm on borrowed time#and that's when the trauma reaction kicks in of ''i can't stop halfway through i'll be in trouble'' anxiety#because i *enjoy* putting away groceries and organizing the kitchen#i just also can't without a lot of assistance and plenty of spoons and time to prepare myself physically and mentally beforehand#this post brought to you by i had this realization doing the groceries and now i'm having like a lot of thoughts about it#i can't do it all in one go ever and i have never been able to without someone else handling about half of it#no matter how much i get or of what i can only get about half put away before time's up and i gotta sit down#it's why so much of my food was non-perishable when i was on my own#cause i'd get the cold things put away because they *had* to be#and then i couldn't physically do any more - especially if the groceries that week were more cold than non-perishable#but like yeah if i had to stop or take a break in putting away the groceries (despite also having gone to the grocery store#and walked around the whole store and grabbed items AND carried the heavy things into the house because i was the heavy lifter#AND i was in sports and had probably either just done a lot of exercise or was still in recovery from the day before/earlier that day)#i got fussed at for not helping out#so that's fucked up and fuck my mom actually she sucks#ugh
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sheliesshattered · 2 years
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I’m just so tired
#things with my dad are getting significantly worse. with terminal brain cancer that's pretty much the only direction things can go#but his mental state is deteriorating quickly. multiple massive brain tumors will do that to you but now it's accelerating#I described it to one of my siblings that it's like Dad's mind is a big jigsaw puzzle and for a year now it's been clear that#the once-whole puzzle is breaking into pieces. for awhile the pieces were still pretty big and he could still carry on a conversation well#he might not remember it 15 minutes later but get him talking about an old memory or something he's an expert on and he could just go on#I've been calling him twice a week for months now. since Mom first suggested we work on writing a book together#in the month since we decided to give that up as a lost cause Dad has gotten noticeably worse. he's gone from losing his train of thought#to talking complete nonsense in a scrambled combination of old memories and things he once read about -- smaller and smaller puzzle pieces#and as things have taken a downward term I know from talking to Mom separately that Dad is also having a lot of trouble with basic self care#balance and bathing and eating and knowing where he is and all kinds of things. all of which is made worse by his memory problems#and by the fact that he outweighs my mom by a good 100lbs. so when he fell in the tub and couldn't get himself out she had to call for help#had to have a church friend who is more than a foot taller than her drive over to help maneuver my dad out of the bathtub#he's also getting obstinate and angry and saying that my mom and my nb sibling who lives with them are the ones with mental problems#all of which means I think they're going to need in-home healthcare ASAP. if not a round-the-clock facility. it's coming sooner or later#but Dad still hasn't officially retired so he's still on his own insurance which apparentlydoesn't have any coverage for that sort of thing#so Mom has to get him to file the paperwork to officially retire and then get him on her insurance. hopefully without a huge confrontation#and I feel like we're running out of time. that he's going to need that care before all the paperwork has time to clear once its started#I feel like we've been barely surviving horrific river rapids and now I'm the ONLY one pointing out that there's a massive waterfall coming#ignoring it won't make it go away or take longer to get here. it'll just hit us with even fewer preparations in place#I have enlisted the help of siblings so hopefully we can convince Mom of the importance of getting the paperwork started#but Mom is so mired in her own grief and busy with work (and she can't quit bc of the health insurance) and unable to get the help she needs#that it's tricky to bring up any of this sort of thing in a helpful way. and all the while Dad is getting worse#meanwhile I'm trying to deal with my own grief and manage my own chronic health situation. and still call Dad twice a week just to chat#and holy hell I'm just so TIRED
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demilypyro · 6 months
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So I've seen a few too many people on twitter talking about The Kiss Scene from the new Scott Pilgrim anime. People saying it's fetishistic and indulgent, people calling it male gazey, etc. And while the kiss itself is certainly a bit exaggerated, I felt like writing a bit about why I disagree, and why context is important, like it always is. But it basically turned into an extended analysis on the metatextual treatment of Roxie Richter. So bear with me. It's a long post.
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What really matters about this scene is not the kiss itself, but what precedes it. Not even just the fight scene just before it, but what precedes the whole anime series, really. And that's the Scott Pilgrim comic book, and the live action movie. Because in both, Roxie is a punchline.
She's a joke. Her character starts and ends with "one of the exes is actually a girl, I bet you didn't expect that." Jokes are made about Ramona's latent bisexuality, the movie especially treating it as funny and absurd, and her validity as a romantic interest is entirely written off by Ramona as being "just a phase." There's a fight scene, she's defeated by a man giving her an orgasm which implicitly calls her sexuality into question (come on), and the movie just moves on. It sucks. It really, really sucks.
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The comic fares a little better. It never veers into outright homophobia like the movie does, and while the line about Ramona having gone through a phase remains, Roxie actually gets one over on Scott when Ramona briefly gets back with Roxie. But Roxie is still only barely a character. Like all the other evil exes, she's just a stepping stone towards the male protagonist's development. She barely even gets any screentime before she's defeated by Scott's "power of love." But Roxie stands out, since she's the only villain who is queer, or at least had been confirmed queer at that point (hi Todd). In a series that champions multiple gay men in the supporting cast, the single undeniable lesbian in the story is a villain. She's labeled as evil, made fun of, pushed aside in favor of the men, and then discarded. Her screentime was never about her, or her feelings for Ramona. It was about the straight, male protagonist needing to overcome her. And that was Roxie Richter. An unfortunate victim of the 2010s.
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Fast forward to current year, and the new anime series is announced. Everybody sits down to watch the new series expecting another retelling of the same story, and.... hang on, that straight male protagonist I mentioned just died in the first episode. And now it's humanizing the villains from the original story. And there's Roxie, introduced alongside the other evil exes in the second episode, and she's being played entirely straight, without a punchline in sight. No jokes are made about her gender, no questions are made of her validity as one of Ramona's romantic interests. The narrative considers her important. In one episode, she already gets more respect than she did in either of the previous iterations of Scott Pilgrim. And this isn't even her focus episode yet... which happens to be the very next one.
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The anime series goes to great lengths to flesh out the original story's villains and to have Ramona reconcile with them. And I don't think it's a coincidence that Roxie gets to go first. While Matthew Patel gets his development in episode 2, Roxie is the first to directly confront Ramona, now our main protagonist. This is notable too because it's the only time the exes are encountered out of order. Roxie is supposed to be number 4, but she's first in line, and later on you realize that she's the only one who's out of sequence. She's the one who sets the precedent for the villains being redeemed. She's the most important character for Ramona to reconcile with.
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What follows is probably the most extensive, elaborate 1 on 1 fight scene in the whole show. Roxie fights like a wounded animal, her motions are desperate and pained. Ramona can only barely fight back against her onslaught. Different set-pieces fly by at breakneck speed as Roxie relentlessly lays her feelings at Ramona's feet through her attacks and her distraught shouts. And unlike the comic or the movie, Ramona acknowledges them, and sincerely apologizes. And the two end up just laying there, exhausted, reminiscing about when they were together.
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Only after this, after all of this, does the kiss scene happen. Roxie has been vindicated, she has reconciled with the person who hurt her, the narrative has deemed that her anger is justified and has redeemed her character. And she gets her victory lap by making the nearest other hot girl question her heterosexuality, sharing a sloppy kiss with her as the music triumphantly crescendos.
It's... a little self-congratulatory, honestly. But it's good. It's redemption for a character who had been mistreated for over a decade. And she punctuates the moment by being very, very gay where everyone can see it, no men anywhere in sight. Because this is her moment. And then she leaves the plot, on her own accord this time, while humming the hampster dance. What a legend. How could anything be wrong with this.
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losersiren · 26 days
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𝓨𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭
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"𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝒽, 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒶 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒.” CW: Fem reader (she/her), possessiveness, suggestive Note: This is my first time writing something like this and posting it...go easy on me o(>< )o
The chandlers decorated the ceiling above the spacious ballroom, giving a gentle glow to the people filling said ballroom. The social season has just started to blossom, giving men and women room to court each other if one is blessed with the opportunity for such an experience. Catching the eye of a reliable suitor is quite troublesome– most of the men here do not fit any of your requirements, and if they did, they would suddenly be caught in a scandal of sorts, causing them to be an outcast. Not a good look on you or your family name.
You idly toy with the fan in your hand, your gaze sweeping over the sea of faces in the room. The task at hand feels insurmountable, and finding a suitable suitor in this town is daunting. Perhaps, you muse, debuting late was a misstep, a decision that now seems to mock you. You could always become a spinster…and ruin your reputation and lineage because you choose such an idiotic choice… regrettably it may be the easier option. 
“Pray tell why you’re glued to this corner as if you’re some wallflower,” A witty baritone voice whispers in your ear, the hairs of your neck standing upright while a cold shiver runs down your spine.
The sense of familiarity washes over you, and the resentment still lingers from years ago makes its way forward. The Earl’s son, your childhood close friend, who left you without a word after he said he’d be there for you.
What a bastard
“Have you ever heard of personal space? Or have you forgotten the amount of lectures your mother ingrained into your head on etiquette when you were just a brat?” You bite back with venom coating every word you spit out. You place your fan on your left ear.
”Ah, I see.” He steps back and gives you space. “You’ve become cold-hearted towards me since my departure overseas. I was only gone for a mere moment.” He switches his position from behind you to in front of you. He takes up your whole vision, his maturity, more evident now since the last time you saw him as a juvenile boy. It's been a few years, hasn't it? Yet he still has his teasing nature; no boarding school or amount of lectures can take that away from him. He bows a little lower than he should, his right hand to the opposite shoulder and his left arm behind his back. He looks up at you with those oh-so-regretful grey eyes. “I wholeheartedly apologize for departing overseas in such an impulsive matter without even notifying you in any way. I should’ve sent you letters and a hoard of messenger doves to accompany you”. “But I did not, and for that, my Lady, I've made a significant sin in your eyes– I do not deserve your forgiveness, but oh, if you could grant me such a pleasure.”
His voice is as quiet and soft as a starving mouse stealing food from a kitchen, careful for only your ears to pick up his pleas for forgiveness. Just as though you were a goddess punishing him, which he should be reprimanded tenfold in his eyes, who was he to abandon you without a trace? Though the situation before was entirely out of his hands, he didn’t want to go to that goddamned private school that was away from you; he fought tooth and nail not to go. Every house servant had to push and hold him down because he kept fighting; even his family members were victims of his wrath. His father, The Earl, still has fading scars from that night years ago.
He should’ve fought harder for you.
People around you start noticing; who wouldn’t? One of the most prestigious Earls of this country’s only son is bowing dishonourably low, borderline grovelling like a peasant caught stealing a measly loaf of bread. You feel eyes turning onto you, women whispering between their fans to one another, wondering in what predicament the next-in-line Earl would be for him to be embarrassingly bowing to a one-of-a-mill daughter of a viscount—a rank lower than him and a woman at that; your fan placement is not making it look better. Immediately change the position of your fan from your left ear to twirling it in your left hand, hoping he understands the situation he has put not only him but you in.
 He only smiles in return. “Stand straight; You look like a fool.” You hiss, “Do I have your forgiveness, Darling?” a scoff escapes your mouth. “That is either here or there! Be proper. Others are watching.” That doesnt deter him, nor does he care about them. “So my apology wasn't sufficient? Since you are thinking about everyone else but me.” More eyes make their way onto the pair of you, and whispers grow with the exchange of gossip. “You’re acting like a child-” He cuts you off. “Shall I go on my knees for you? I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but preferably, I would love to be in a more…secluded environment.” A smirk graces his lips at the thought. “Or shall I kiss your feet-” 
“You are a soon-to-be- Earl! Has that school taught you nothing? God, you’ve become more insufferable, I swear.” Your face feels warmer now, and embarrassment takes over you from his childish yet sincere teasing.
The young lord’s eyes fixated on you, on your lips, how your dress accentuates your already perfect self, your hands, oh, how he wishes to feel them against his. The years it's been since he saw you, he could listen to you scold him for hours on end; it doesn’t matter what you are saying. Just hearing your voice is enough. God knows it's been too long since he’s been deprived of you. He thanks his past self for sabotaging whatever male decided to even think of courting you. Though he was far away, his social standing never changed.
The lord decided by the second month he was away from you to pay his old servants to send him as much information as possible on the vermins that would try to nestle their way into your life. He would…No, he has ruined anyone who wanted to get in between you two. And he’ll keep it that way. You’ve stolen his heart since meeting him as a lad.
“So you wish for me to kneel? As you wish.” He starts to kneel; gasps can be heard. But you stop him, holding his shoulders upright; his eyes widen as you touch him.
You’re so close
“I forgive you…I forgive you…”
“I forgive you, Ambrose…”
Oh…
His name on your tongue….
His mind blanks. Has he gone to heaven? Oh, you sweet angel, you have him wrapped around your finger. And he wouldn’t want it any other way.
His smile is blinding as he stands and looks down at you.
“Then now that's settled…May I have the honour of a dance with yours truly?”
.." Or shall I beg more?"
End Notes: Fun fact (not really): I based most of this post on The Regency era, and that includes fan language! That is why I described the readers' actions with it. Placing the fan on your left ear means "I wish to get rid of you." Twirling the fan with your left hand means "We are watched." Thought that would be something fun to add (^.^)
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odinsblog · 2 months
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“I first started noticing the journalists dying on Instagram. I'm a journalist, I'm Arab, and I've reported on war. A big part of my community is other Arab journalists who do the same thing.
And when someone dies, news travels fast. Recently, I pulled up the list that the Committee to Protect Journalists has been keeping and looked at it for the first time. There are 95 journalists and media workers on it as of today.
Almost everyone on it is Palestinian. Scrolling through, I started to get angry. These were the people carrying the burden of documenting this whole war.
Israel is not allowing foreign journalists into Gaza, except on rare occasions with military escorts. These people's names are being buried in a giant list that keeps growing. What I want to do is lift some of them off the list for a moment and give you a glimpse of who they were and the work they made.
I'll start with Sadi Mansour. Sadi was the director of Al-Quds News Network, and he posted a 22-second video on November 18. That was a report from the war, but it also gave me a picture into his marriage.
Sadi's wearing his press vest and looks exhausted. He's explaining that cell service and the Internet keep getting cut off, and it's often impossible to text or call anyone, including his wife. So they've resorted to using handwritten letters to communicate while he's out reporting, sending them back and forth with neighbors or colleagues.
He ends the video with a picture of one of these letters from his wife. In it, she writes,
‘Me and the kids stayed up waiting for you until the morning, and you didn't come home. We were really sad.
I kept telling the kids, Look, he's coming. But you didn't show up. May God forgive you.
Come home tomorrow and eat with us. Do you want me to make you kebab or maybe kapse? Bring your friends with you, it's okay.
And give Azeez the battery to charge. What do you think about me sending you handwritten letters with messenger pigeons from now on? Ha ha ha.
I'm just kidding. I want to curse at you, but we're living in a war. Too bad.
Okay, I love you. Bye.’
A few hours after he shared that letter, Sadie and his co-worker Hassouna Saleem were at Sadie's home, when they were killed by an Israeli air strike that hit his house.
His wife and kids, who weren't there, survived.
Gaza is tiny, and the journalist community is really close. Reading the list, you can see all the connections between people. Like with Brahim Lafi.
Brahim was a photojournalist, one of the first journalists to die. He was killed while reporting on October 7. He was just 21, still new to journalism.
On his Instagram, you can see that in his posts just a few years ago, he was still practicing his photography, taking pictures of coffee cups and flowers. Then he started doing beautiful portraits and action shots. You can really feel him starting to become a journalist.
Clicking around on Instagram, I found a tribute post about Brahim from his co-worker Rushdie Sarraj. In this photo, Brahim staring intently at the back of a camera, his face lit up by the light from the viewfinder. He looks so young.
The caption reads, My assistant is gone. Brahim is gone. Rushdie himself was a beloved journalist and filmmaker.
And I know that because he's also on the list. He was killed just two weeks after Brahim. I read the tribute post to him too.
I saw this over and over again. Journalists posting tributes, who were then killed themselves soon after. And a tribute goes up for them.
And then the pattern continues.
Thank you.
Something else I saw over and over on the list, journalists later in the war who had become aware that they could be making their last reports. They'd say it at the beginning of their videos. And those were the hardest to watch, especially when it was true.
One video like that was posted by Ayat Hadduro. Ayat was a freelance journalist and video blogger. Her videos before the war covered a wide range from what I can tell, interviews about women in politics.
She even appeared in a commercial for ketchup-flavored chips. She clearly liked being in front of the camera. Once the war started, Ayat's pivoted to covering bombings and food shortages.
On November 20, she posted a video report from her home. You can hear the airstrikes hitting very close to where she is. It's scary.
‘This is likely my last video. Today, the occupation forces dropped phosphorus bombs on Beit Lahya area and frightening sound bombs. They dropped letters from the sky, ordering everyone to evacuate.
Everyone ran into the streets in the craziest way. No one knows where to go.
But everyone else has evacuated. They don't know where they're going. The situation is so scary.
What's happening is so tough, and may God have mercy on us.’
She was killed later that day.
Targeting journalists, in case you didn't know, is a war crime. So far, the Committee to Protect Journalists has found that three of the journalists on the list were explicitly targeted by the IDF, the Israeli military. Investigations by the Washington Post and Reuters, Human Rights Watch and the United Nations have also raised serious questions in these three cases.
And the Committee to Protect Journalists is investigating 10 other killings. When we reached out to the IDF for comments, they said, quote, the IDF has never, and will never, deliberately target journalists. That's the answer they always give in these situations.
Meanwhile, dozens of seasoned reporters have fled Gaza. Journalists who worked for Al Jazeera, the BBC, the New York Times, the Washington Post, Reuters, Agence France-Presse. So many media offices were demolished in Israeli airstrikes that the Committee to Protect Journalists stopped counting.
It's not just individual lives that have been destroyed. It's an entire infrastructure.
Thank you.
The name on the list that was hardest for me to look at was Issam Abdullah, because I'd crossed paths with him once. Issam was a Lebanese journalist, a video journalist for Reuters for many, many years. He had just won an award for coverage of Ukraine.
I'm Lebanese and still report there sometimes, and I'd worked with Issam a couple of summers ago. He helped me film a sort of random story in Beirut. I was interviewing this entrepreneur who had started a sperm freezing company after an accident where he spilled a tray of hot coffee on his private area, burning himself.
I know, ridiculous. It was a really silly shoot. Right after we said cut and started to rap, Issam started this whole bit about being in his late 30s, reconsidering his own sperm quality and everything he now realized he was doing to hurt it, and no one could stop laughing.
It was a really good day that felt good to remember and to remember him that way. Issam was killed by the IDF on October 13. His death was one of the three that the Committee to Protect Journalists has identified as a targeted killing.
He was fired upon by an Israeli tank while standing in an empty field on the Lebanon-Israel border with a small group of other journalists. Everyone was wearing press vests with cameras out. They were covering the Hezbollah part of this war.
A few other journalists were injured in the attack, which was captured on video. The IDF says they were responding to firing from Hezbollah, not targeting the journalists. But multiple investigations, including by Reuters, the United Nations, Amnesty International and the AFP, found no evidence of any firing from the location of the journalists before the IDF shot at them.
The journalists in the group and video footage confirmed that there was no military activity near them. I had only met Issam once, barely knew him, but it affected me so much when he died. I know that he understood the risks of his job, but somehow it still felt so random and unfair that he would be struck down like that, following the rules, wearing his press vest and helmet, and a pack of reporters on a sunny day in an open field.
I find myself thinking about him all the time. His last Instagram post was commemorating another journalist, this iconic reporter Shereen Abou Aql who had been killed by the IDF. When I first saw that post in October, I thought how ironic because a week later, Isam also was killed by the IDF.
But then, after spending time reading the list, I realized how common this had become. I still haven't finished going through the list and looking up the people on it. I keep finding things that stick with me, like the funny way this one radio host would cut off a caller who was rambling on for too long.
A tweet from reporter Al-Abdallah that quoted Sylvia Plath. It read, What ceremony of wars can patch the havoc? I'm going to keep going down the list, even though this story is over now.
Just for myself. My own way of bearing witness. Which is, in the end, all that these journalists were trying to do.”
—DANA BALLOUT, The 95. Dana sifts through a very long list—the list of journalists killed in the Israel-Hamas war, and comes back with five small fragments of the lives of the people on it. Dana is a Lebanese-American, Emmy-nominated documentary producer.
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bakugoushotwife · 5 months
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a/n: omg heyyy i make my grand return with my humble offering to @ohkento 's reddit theme collab!! i also have a piece for shouto coming up next, but here is the first one!! i took a while off after kinktober so if this is bad....lie to me!
warnings: dark content. nsfw. no minors. yandere theme gojo, no physical harm to reader, baby trapping, threats (not to reader), female reader, breeding, pentration, oral (fem!receiving), reader is kinda dumb lol.
summary: STORYTIME: I (28M) CAN'T STOP BREEDING MY GIRL BEST FRIEND (28F)!! it's a serious problem...i'm really reaching my breaking point here. i've been in love with this chick since high school and she keeps chasing other guys...but fucking me when the dates go wrong, help!
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it’s been his dirty little secret since his years at tokyo tech. you’ve always been a looker, never were you short on attention from lesser men that aren’t worth your time—and yes, that includes when geto crushed on you all through the second year of school. but they never were quite what you were looking for, and every night of passion or attempt at a meaningful connection always ended the same—dialing up your closest confidant satoru to come console you and stuff your cunt full and wipe your tears–to make it better, like best friends do. 
satoru was all too aware of your little predicament, because he had struggled with the same issues–except he realized his fate years ago and was determined to have it. you are his and his alone, no matter how many scrubs that try to take you from him. if only you would open your eyes. you were obviously hopelessly in love with him, of course—that’s why no one could compare! and that’s why you always turned your teary eyes and pretty pussy to him after yet another date gone wrong. he knew he was the only cure, and he’s given up on hoping you’d see the truth for yourself. 
he tried to play the patience card, licking your tears off your face as he pounds his love into you, telling you that you’re worth so much more than those guys you keep letting break your heart. he tried being the nice guy that holds you after yet another promising prospect never texts you back–buying you dinner and bouncing you on his cock until you were crying from pleasure instead of heartbreak. each time, he buried his load in your womb until it was spilling out around him—hoping to give you no other choice but to pack your bags and move onto his estate to further the gojo clan with the very man at the head of it, but it seems your ovaries were just as stubborn as you are. he didn’t know how much more of this he could stomach—just waiting to be your knight in shining armor while laying in bed at night, staring at the pictures of you, both lewd and cute alike while wondering just how long it would take to have you laying beside him in his bed instead of the pixels on his phone screen. 
he’s had enough. it’s clear his plan isn’t working as designed. you must be on birth control—which is both irritating yet complimentary to him. of course you wouldn’t let these bums knock you up. is it insulting that this applies to his seed too? of course, but then again the whole dynamic was rather insulting wasn’t it? fucking other men and crying to him about it when they aren’t the perfect man for you. no shit—no man will ever know you like he does. none of them could ever compete with the life he could give you if you would just face the music. he doesn’t get it either. why bother? why look elsewhere? obviously you’re attracted to each other—so why won’t you make the next natural jump and stop it with the drama-packed weekly bachelorette episodes?
that’s okay. it’s really fine. satoru is such a good friend that he’ll help you, like he always does. he would simply help you to the conclusion that he wants and then everything can proceed according to plan! it shouldn’t be too difficult anyway, you’ll be calling any moment now! you had a date with yet another sure disappointment that gojo knows will desert you as soon as the date is finished. he’ll be dry and boring after the promising conversations you had in the days leading up to the date—you’ll be confused yet again—and the guy won’t pay either, set for split-bill city. gojo knows all of this because he’s ensured that’s what happens, of course! and this is the thirty-sixth man he’s had to pay off to show up to the date and forget about you. a price he’s more than willing to pay no matter how high, though it’s definitely added up over the years. and you know what—now that he thinks of it, none of them deserve you because their weak nature and corrupt morals. he’s been proven right every time, each one of these bottom feeders would take the money no questions asked—maybe that was due to his threats of horrific death if they so much as answered a text message from you again, but who could be sure? 
this one was especially easy to pay off, too. he didn’t even think twice about taking the money. it almost makes gojo mad. he clearly wasn’t heartbroken to walk away from you, and god you deserved so much better. you deserve a man that is willing to pay off any and every suitor that comes into your life just to make you his. you deserve a man so crazy about you he can hardly recognize himself. you deserve…well, him. he’s devoted himself to you for over a decade and it’s time for that to pay off.
your unique ringtone gets him out of his own head to answer, and of course, you’re crying and asking him to come over. pretty girls like you never learn, huh? that’s all forgiven though, as he is a teacher and it’s his passion to help you understand. 
“of course sugar. i’ll be right over. mhm–don’t mention it. that’s what friends are for.” he hums to you over his end of the phone, picking up his car keys to make it to you in record time. you’re your same beautiful self as you answer the door and welcome him inside, though he can see the tear tracks staining your face. it makes him pout a little at the sight no matter how used to it he is. he hates that you let these cretins upset you like this. 
“hey baby.” he pouts sympathetically with you, ducking under your arm to gaze around your familiar living room for any signs of a man he hadn’t yet heard about. he exhales a deep sigh when he finds none. he’s got his hands in his pockets, lips tightened in a knowing grimace. “so what was it this time? no—let me guess: split the bill and then he let you walk home in this weather?” 
you close the door after he’s entered with a heavy sigh. your bleary eyes fix on your hand still clasped around the doorknob, “yeah.” you tug your lip between your teeth and turn to face him. you didn’t have to answer him, for he already knew. it was borderline routine at this point and you were already embarrassed enough. you draw your arms around yourself to feel your own warmth, shaking your head. what was wrong with you? you used to be pined after, wanted—and now you couldn’t even get non-sorcerers to call you back. you haven’t had a second date in years, nor had an orgasm that wasn’t satoru’s handiwork. but even he didn’t want you permanently. you were a good friend and an even better fuck, that’s all. you knew it was pointless to yearn for him, sure he felt nothing other than his ever-present sense of duty and loyalty every-time he took your pain away–no matter the lies that poured out of his saccharine lips to do so. your sad eyes fix on his face, letting your plump bottom lip bounce out from your teeth’s trap. he smirks softly, cock rising because it knows exactly what that look means. 
but unfortunately for you, he won’t just hold you in his arms and promise that you’re worth so much more than you let yourself believe. tonight, he’s going to take what’s rightfully his—and his plan is already working beautifully. you never look away as you walk from the door to him, bracing your tiny and ineffectual hands on his chest. “what’s wrong with me, sato?” you pout, batting your long lashes up at him. his heart could stop just from that look alone. the comfort of his large hands covering yours soothes you already, making the tension drop from your shoulders. 
“you’re naive.” he answers, eyes as bright as ever as they glow like fireflies in your living room. if you were going just by the expression on his face, you’d think he said something kind or even funny, the way he grins softly and blinks his white lashes down at you in wait of your reply. you’re sure you misheard—every other time you asked this question he always said, “maybe you’re just too pretty, huh? ever thought of that, sugarplum?” 
“huh?” you tilt your head to one side, watching his expression shift to amusement. “naive? wh-what do you mean by that?” 
“well, if you weren’t so naive, you’d know, now wouldn’t you?” he pokes his tongue between his teeth, tucking his hands behind his back while you still lean helplessly against him. he likes feeling the weight of your body on his, and he’ll like it even more when he knows it’s a permanent thing. “you’re on birth control.” he states, and your confusion sets in even deeper. your brows furrow, but you nod. 
“yeah? what about that makes me naive?” you posit, used to his antics for the most part. you’ve been around him far too long to mistake his bluntness as an attack to you, even if it stings just a touch. though you did ask, and you have used him as your sexual relief and shoulder to cry on for years now. maybe he’s fed up with lying to save your feelings. 
he looks around for a second, humming. “where is it?” 
you also know better than to question him. if he’s asking you these questions it has to be for a reason—and you don’t have to understand him in the moment. just do what you’ve always done and trust him, support him on and off the battlefield–and never hesitate. it could be the difference between life and death. you learned that on missions together years ago. 
“in my nightstand?” you tilt your head to the other side. he has to admit your astonishment is adorable. he smiles down at you, cupping your cheek lightly. his fingers are so long that his thumb rests on the corner of your lips, fingertips brushing back your hair. 
“go get it for me.” he says as if he asked you to pass him the remote. you narrow your eyes to really study him—and then you see it. the teeming rage, the simmering crazy behind his eyes as they look at you. he is the most powerful man in the world, even if you were scared, there was nothing you could do but obey. but you trust him. and you nod. you turn to pad off to your bedroom and the clicks of his expensive boots follow. you’re used to the butterflies tickling your stomach as you lead him to bed, but you know something’s different this time. you feel like you’ll puke butterflies. but nonetheless, you pull the drawer of your nightstand open and fetch the little foil pack out of it, only a few pills missing from this month’s prescription. you turn to face him with it, mind racing on what he could possibly be doing. knowing him, he’s toying with you–trying to make you as nervous as possible and all this worrying is for no good reason. 
he sits at the edge of your bed, seemingly watching you with interest. he’s happy that you’re humoring him, that’s for sure. not even the faintest hint of protest. maybe you’re not as naive as he thought. in fact, your effortless obedience has his the crotch of his loose hakama’s tightening quickly. your heart jumps in your throat at the sight of him as it usually does—satoru gojo is far too beautiful to be in your house, supposedly telling you why you couldn’t keep a man. the black compression shirt was nearly criminal when it was wrapped around his perfect body. 
“good girl. now flush ‘em down the toilet for me.” he beams, blinding white teeth baring to smile at you. it was a simple request, really. he needed you to stop taking that poison and to stop entertaining the idea of other men. 
“why?” you swallow harshly, voicing your underlying suspicion. 
“don’t you trust me, baby?” he replies with a quickness, tilting his head to mirror yours. he’s doing well to keep himself together–you don’t understand his love for you yet, but he’ll take care of that. he’s a teacher, remember? “that stuff’s not good for you.” 
you hum. the side effects have been brutal, but you’re hardly in the spot for a baby. you can’t even get a boyfriend, much less a baby daddy. “yeah…i know. sucks taking it. guess i could get an iud or something instead.” you think aloud, voice becoming distant as you turn your back to him and dump your pills in the bathroom attached to your small room. you really undersell yourself. you could have been his bride eight years or so ago and been living large. but he’s going to fix it now. his jaw clenches at that declaration, and you feel him watching you the entire time—the doorway a straight shot from the spot he sat in on your bed. 
“no.” he says simply, the lightheartedness gone abruptly. it sends a shiver down your spine, makes your brain alert to the changes within him as he stands and cages you into the bathroom, broad arms stretching to block off the doorway. 
no? he doesn’t want you to protect yourself in any way? that seems a little ridiculous, but maybe he had a good reason. “satoru…i can’t get pregnant right now.” 
“why not?” he asks, looking over your little body nearly trembling from the darkness of his cursed energy growing more oppressive, nearly sucking the air out of the room. your heart pounds, more confused than you were at the start. 
“because i’m…single?” you try carefully, not sure exactly what you were dealing with here. satoru has always been so happy-go-lucky, even when he shouldn’t be. you remember begging him to talk out his stress so that he didn’t explode right after suguru left. so this anger you see set in his features shocks you, his bright and clear sky-colored eyes are clouded and murky, more cerulean than you’ve seen before. his brow is set and you can see the muscles twitching in his jaw. but he’s still smiling, and that for whatever reason is still real. 
“there’s that naivety again, princess.” he licks his teeth, shifting his weight from foot to foot. you look like a deer in the headlights, and he’s giddy at the rush that gives him. you’re finally in his grasp. “you’ve never been single. not since hmmm let’s see, march fifteenth, 2006.” he grins at you–”which makes all this dating real offensive, sweetheart.” 
you want to laugh, but decide against it considering his unpredictability. you shake your head instead, backing yourself to the wall. “what on earth are you talking about? we’re friends–”
“friends that fuck!” he laughs a strained snicker, straightening his posture. “and make sweet hot love, of course. friends that cuddle on the couch and have sleepovers. come on. we’re both adults, don’t insult me. you love me! which is great, because i love you too. i love you so much i’ve made sure that no one could steal you from me.” 
your brows must reach your hairline at that. “stop, satoru. don’t say that! you can’t mean it–fuck, you’re supposed to be married to a kamo or zen’in girl so you can keep making powerful gojo’s right? isn’t that what you always said in school?” 
“you’d give me powerful gojo’s.” he smirks, breaking the barrier of the bathroom’s threshold by stepping closer to you, leaning down to be on face level. “i was only trying to make you jealous sugar! just like this whole stunt you’ve been pullin’, dating around to try to find someone that makes you feel like i do? tch, hahahaha—it’s impossible!! just stop it, be mine and be happy like you should be.” he grasps your chin with a surprising gentleness given his unhinged and maniacal laughter, smiling down at you with something you recognize as his power-trip going off the rails—but. 
but you’d be lying if you said you were scared. he’s declaring his love for you in the most profound way possible, however crazy it–and he–may be. and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t absolutely see right through you. he has the six eyes after all, you should have known he knew what you were trying to do. you were trying to numb the pain of never being his…but you were actually manufacturing that whole scenario. you’re the only girl he’s ever seen, and it’s clear from the desperation mixed in with the insanity—he needs you. 
you reach back and flush the toilet, letting the little white pills circle the bowl and disappear entirely. satoru gojo has always been insane. you’ve seen it firsthand on many missions and battles against curses and sorcerers alike. it just surprised you to see him turn that look upon you–but now you know it was just to get your attention. 
though you don’t doubt what he’s capable of, you have no intention of pushing him to find out.
his eyes go from crazy to ravenous in seconds. you’ve accepted his proposal with hardly any effort and he intends to show you the difference between his sweet hookups and his passionate need to claim the woman of his dreams. 
“so you…scared off all those guys?” you ask, raising a brow as your face still rests in his clutches. he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, nodding vigorously. 
“sure did, princess. i was trying to let you figure it out on your own…” he sighs, brushing your hair back behind your ears as his eyes scan over your body again. he needs to feel you. “but you’re not a quick learner, hence why i’m on plan b.” he winks, scooping you over his shoulder moments later. he puts you on your bed, the short walk made shorter by his teleportation. he’s just too impatient, brain swelling with the flashing images of you in traditional wedding attire and round with his heir. it all feels within reach now, and he has to try it out now. “gonna show you how bad i love you–you’ll never go anywhere else.” he mutters, lanky frame swallowing up your body, hips pinning yours to the bed beneath you. “you’re gonna give me a gojo and you’re gonna look so fucking good doing it.” he mutters, lips attaching to your neck reminiscent of the way they have a million times. though this time, there’s intention behind it—or well. this time you’re aware of the intention behind it. 
in all your times together, his dirty talk has been contained to praising your body and how good you feel to him. his incantations to knock you up has your heart beating funny and wetness pooling between your legs. you make a soft gasp sound for him, elongating your neck to let him leave real marks of possession where you’ve previously resisted. your body writhes and twists under his as his teeth knick and nip bruises into your skin. he’d spell his own name with them if he could, even a ring and a baby wasn’t enough in his eyes. he needs the world to know you’re his, that you’ll always be by his side, that you were born to be his. 
“that pesky birth control’s gonna have to wear off though–so we have time to get married before you get pregnant–if that matters to you.” he moans at the idea, hands sliding under your top to push it over your head. his mouth moves to suck the swells of your tits once they’re exposed to him, humming out his satisfaction at the warm skin. your head digs back into the mattress—mind absolutely drunk on his affection and devotion. it’s all you’ve ever wanted and now it’s right here, and from the man you’ve always wished you could have—how could you ever deny him again? 
your hands pull at the fabric on his back, hips bucking up for a source of friction. he breaks away from marking up your chest to bare his to you, throwing his t-shirt into some corner of your room to be forgotten about until tomorrow. this wouldn’t be your room much longer anyway–you’ll be moved into the estate within the next two days, he wouldn’t be able to live without you now. then he’s pushing you up towards the headboard, ripping off your lounge shorts to reveal those cute panties he knows you wear when you’re trying to impress him. color him fucking thrilled at your puffy pussy lips indenting the fabric around them, making him groan at the sight. he thumbs at your clit through the cotton, sparkling eyes flickering between the growing wet spot in your panties and the adorable scrunches of your nose and the pinch of your brow from the pleasure he’s dishing out before he’s even really touching you. you’re so cute he can’t pace himself, needing to consecrate your importance to him in the best way he knows how. 
you help him get you out of your underwear, shamelessly spreading for him after hundreds of rendezvous—you’ve lost your shyness and he loves it, loves seeing your neediness for him in the glaze of your pretty doe eyes and the way you swing your hips around to beg for his attention. “tell me you love me.” he hums, nosing apart your pussy lips. his cock throbs at the scent, and you feel goosebumps break out across your skin at his command. 
“you’re the one for me, sato. i love you.” you whisper so intimately he can feels his cursed energy pulsing like the rest of him. he groans, submerging his face in your cunt with a genuine pleasure you’ve only seen from him. he loves eating you out, loves the taste of you on his tongue—loves how your noises only rile him into fucking the bed, whining and grunting with his own neediness that he could only unleash once he’s properly readied you for it. 
“you taste so fucking good baby…so sweet down my throat. get loud, i don’t care it’s an apartment. you’ll be moving out soon anyway.” he smirks, latching onto your clit to make your legs jolt like they always do. it makes him giggle every time, and the vibrations feel even better against your sensitive bundle. he rolls it around his tongue, letting his index finger explore the wetness he’s helping you create. he pokes into your entrance, knowing how violently you craved something inside. his thoughts are confirmed by the way you clench around the digit, whining and bucking into it for more. he’s more than happy to oblige, finger fucking you with two long and thick fingers while his tongue works overtime on your clit. he loves watching you at this part, enamored by your face as your hips involuntarily jump from the bed, smacking your clit into his nose instead of his skilled tongue. 
your entire body is warm, jerking like you’re receiving electrical shocks from the pleasure satoru reigns down, gasping and sputtering on the edge of orgasm just a few minutes after he started. it’s always like this with him–though this time was special because you knew your life was changing before your very eyes—that satoru’s energy was growing so rapidly because he’s letting go of all kinds of stress and pent up frustration and anger. “please—wanna cum please sato–”
“daddy. i’m daddy now. ask daddy nicely.” he chuckles as he leans his head against his free hand, curling his fingers into the spot he knows so well just to watch your mouth drop and eyes widen in absolute blissful shock. you nod–brain fuzzy from his constant teasing and his new nickname. 
“daddy!! yes—daddy! please, oh my god—daddy let me cum!” you sound so good when you say it–it’s all he ever wants to hear for the rest of his life. he can’t wait for you to make him a real daddy. 
“oh missus gojo can do anything she wants.” he coos as if he didn’t make you expressly beg for permission, lowering his face to your cunt again with precise licks, shoving your hood back to absolutely abuse your sensitivity. your legs develop a mind of their own and you’re spiraling over the edge before you can understand what he’s doing. floating balls of color cover your vision and you scream his name just as loud as he wanted. he grins in satisfaction, hands resting on your knees so he can push himself forward for a sloppy kiss; slick covered lips sliding against yours so you could taste your own essence via his tongue shoving its way in your mouth with a hearty moan. you match his eagerness, making out with satoru with more passion than ever before–because you both have the security of knowing it’s real this time. he maneuvers his hips until his leaky tip catches on your hole, his breath shaky as before he shoves in like he always does. you squeeze him so tight it’s not hard to believe why he lost his fucking mind over this pussy. he truly would do anything to make you his, thank god you didn’t put up a fight. 
“fuuuuck–” he whines a little, finding it nearly impossible to even move in the first place. you feel the burn of his fat and lengthy shaft parting your walls like they routinely do, mouth dropped wide open in pleasure. satoru hovers inches away from your face, so close that the ends of his hair tickle your forehead as he picks your legs up—holding you by the back of the ankles before he sets a brutal pace. his nuts clap into your ass from the way he moves, length curving just right to fill you to the brim. he doesn’t even have to try all that hard to bottom out against your cervix, finding the way you moan and twitch so adorable. “this is why you have to be my wife—i need you for life, sweetheart.” 
your eyes widen at that declaration–though you already realized that satoru would never let you out of his clutches again. you knew he would marry you as quickly as possible based off of his desire to also knock you up as quickly as possible—but hearing him call you that, first missus gojo and now his wife, it all felt so real. his cock slamming into you only drilled it in further, his eyes glowing brighter than you’ve ever seen. the air also grows its own electric field, suffocating and thrilling all at the same time. your eyes are glued to him, entranced by the feral look on his face. you try to hold onto him, but he’s moving so punishingly you can’t even get your hands to work, mind and body on cloud nine. “you’re so beautiful. i’ve been in love…with—you–for years now.” he says in between deep breaths, trying to contain all his focus into drilling you unconscious. 
you shudder, feeling that was completely in the realm of possibility. his balls ache, the need to breed you just as heavy as all the other times you’ve come to him to clean up every mess of yours ever since he’s known you, the need to make you his in a way no one else would be allowed to—it’s carnal. he can’t stop until you’re full of his seed and it takes. he needs to see your breasts heavy with milk to feed his baby from. he needs to see you struggle with the weight of your belly so he can urge you to rest and let him serve you like you should be. he needs to see what the combination of your love looks like; what these last ten years of hard work would become. he’s painting your insides white and still pumping just as fast as before, watching your face tick and jerk with the pleasure you’re experiencing as you tip off of your own peak. he grins, shoving that cum as deep as it will go. he stops when he knows your body can’t take anymore, cuddling you to his chest until you fall asleep safe and sound. he has the whole world in his hands, and that’s never been enough. now he can sleep with a genuine smile on his face. he knows your body will regulate in a few months off the birth control—but that doesn’t mean he can’t get plenty of practice until then. after all, he has a problem! he has to breed his pretty little girl best friend turned future wife. 
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rosielovesf1 · 2 months
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spilling secrets on stream | LN4
what better place to hard launch a relationship than twitch?
word count: 1.3k
warnings: none!
author's note: it's been so fun thinking up little story ideas and this is the product of one of them. fair warning that it's been forever since i've played fortnite so probably not very accurate when it comes to that 🤦‍♀️ thank youuu for reading and have a great day!!
also my requests are open if you would like to see a certain story/driver!! 🫶
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“Hi guys, sorry I’m late,” Lando said, adjusting his headphones as he started the stream. There were a surprising number of people online for this Thursday afternoon, but he had posted on his story that Max would be joining him, so that could explain the popularity. Not that he would ever tell him that. 
“Max is joining now.” He stretched his arms over his head, smirking when the chat quickly noticed the sliver of skin he’d exposed in the simple motion. Oops. “Is Max with you right now? No, chat, I’m in Monaco. How’s offseason? It’s good. I’ve been doing a whole lot of nothing.” 
Lando read through and answered a couple more questions until Max’s face popped up on his screen. 
“Hello hello,” Max said, waving to the camera. “How are we, chat? What are we playing?” 
After a couple minutes of debate, they decided on Fortnite. The first round was short lived- Lando got shot pretty much immediately. Now, him and Max were two of ten players remaining, but the sound of the front door opening caused him to turn his focus away from the game. 
“y/n?” Lando called out after muting himself, turning away from the screen to see if his girlfriend had just arrived home. 
“Bro, what are you doing?” Max protested, his character running circles around Lando’s still one. Two other characters spotted them over a nearby hill and started firing immediately, with Max left alone to defend them. “You muppet!” Within seconds, Lando had died, and Max didn’t have enough time to resuscitate him in the midst of defending himself. 
“My bad.” Lando turned back to the screen, laughing at Max’s distress. 
“That was entirely your fault.” Max responded, pausing to look at his phone alert from Lando. 
I think y/n just got back and she doesn’t know I’m on stream. Can you stay on until I get back? 
Even though Lando and his girlfriend were practically living together at this point, staying at each other’s homes almost every night during the offseason, they were yet to make it official in the eyes of the public. Max knew this better than everyone- often having to cover for the couple when they weren’t cautious enough- and smirked as he typed back a yes. Lando took that as a sign to communicate his exit. “Be right back, chat. Don’t be too mean to Max while I’m gone.” 
He opened and shut the door to the room behind him, padding down the soft carpet runner of the hallway. “y/n?” Her bright pink trainers were by the front door, and seeing as he could hear the shower down the hall, she must’ve just come back from a run. 
All of a sudden, music started blasting- a Doja Cat song, Lando knew from y/n's time on the aux whenever they were in the car together. 
“y/n,” Lando laughed, knocking on the bathroom door, “I’m on stream darling.” It wasn’t that he minded the noise, or that the chat would know very quickly that there was a girl in his house (he wasn’t really the Doja Cat type). If it were up to him, he would’ve posted y/n the day they had made it official, four months ago. But they’d decided to wait a bit and enjoy the privacy. 
No response still. He tried the bathroom door handle but it was locked. She must’ve not known he was coming home, Lando thought cheekily to himself. Otherwise, it would’ve been open. He gave up and retreated back to the room with his setup, shooting a quick text over to y/n that he was home. 
Lando settled back into his chair, turning the camera on. “Alright, chat, I’m back. Sorry to leave you with Max.” 
Max raised an eyebrow at the music that filtered in through Lando’s mic, choosing not to comment on it. The chat wasn’t as sly though, with every other comment questioning the source. 
“Didn’t know Lando was a Doja Cat fan. I’m not.” The ambiguous comment sparked even more questions, and Lando just shook his head jokingly as they started another game. As he died for a third time, Max cursing and threatening to find someone better to play with, the music cut and the distant sound of the shower running stopped. 
“Lando?” y/n called out, freezing as she read over his text in the hallway. Lando’s eyes widened and he quickly muted himself, sliding his headphones off. As he stood up he heard y/n's footsteps nearing the door and managed to shut the camera off just in time. 
Lando pulled open the door and the scent of coconut and hibiscus floated in. y/n looked up at him with wide eyes in sweatpants and a stolen Quadrant t-shirt, her hair still wet from the shower. 
“I’m sorry! I didn’t realize that you were streaming.” She peeked over his shoulder and her eyes widened at the rapidly scrolling chat, the viewers going crazy about the distinctly female voice they’d overheard. Max had given up at pretending to ignore them and had shut off his camera as well, only adding to the viewers assumptions. 
He pulled her into a hug, mumbling “You smell good.” into her hair as a way of greeting. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed tightly, rocking back and forth. 
“Did they hear me?” 
“Yeah.” They shuffled over to the computer together, her almost afraid to read the chat that was still scrolling at a million miles a minute. Lando read out one comment that said “can Lando’s girlfriend fight?” and raised a questioning eyebrow at the girl next to him. 
“Heck yeah. Look at these muscles. Try me.” She bounced back and forth on her heels, hands up in a boxing stance.
Lando laughed at her, locking her in a headlock that she quickly wiggled out of. “Not fair,” she whined. “Caught me by surprise.” 
He pulled her in front of him to straighten out the locks of hair he’d mussed, and kissed her forehead before looking down at her. “What if we told them about us right now?” 
“You think?” She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, and he ran a gentle thumb over it to get her to stop. 
“I think they’re going to love you as much as I do.” She leaned into him at that statement, and he watched her eyes as she seemed to process his statement. 
“Alright,” she still looked hesitant, but brightened up as she opened her mouth to speak again. “I’m already wearing the right shirt and everything.” 
“Quadrants #1 fan.” He smiled, pulling her over to the computer. They split the chair so that both of them could sit, and she draped her legs comfortably over his. He rested one hand on her thigh, using the other to restart the stream. “Ready?” 
She nodded, and all of a sudden they were back online. 
“Hi, chat.” Lando smiled, laughing as the comments started pouring in. “I’ve been meaning to introduce you to someone. This is my girlfriend, y/n.” 
“Hi, everyone,” y/n said, sporting a smile to match her boyfriend’s. “How are you doing?” 
“Finally.” Max let out a sigh, clicking his camera back on. 
“Thanks for covering for us, Max.” The trio sat and talked for a little bit, y/n answering questions for her from the chat that Lando pointed out every once in a while. They eventually turned the game back on, y/n holding her own and often outranking Max and Lando. In the midst of waiting for a new game to load, Lando wrapped an arm around her waist, squeezing her side. 
“I’m so glad I get to show you off now.”
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@landonorris: kiss me more 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨
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@y/nl/n: cat’s out of the bag 🤭
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serpentandlily · 2 months
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Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny IV
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Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny IV - Eris x Archeron!Reader
Summary: You find yourself ensnared by a sly, cunning fox. A very handsome, irritating one.
Warnings: a lil bit of angst, a lil bit of fluff, a lil bit of suggestion
➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III
· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·
To say he was panicking would be an understatement. 
No, Eris had felt panicked when he had opened the door to his chambers and realized his mate was not there. But that panic turned to full-fledged terror when he had finally tracked down the two handmaidens he'd assigned her this morning and they both said they had no idea where his mate was. 
He stalked through the Forest Home---trying to appear calm and nonchalant despite what he felt. He didn't want anyone to catch wind of something being amiss. Not before he was able to find his mate and safely get her back to his chambers. Lucky for him, he'd been forced to wear a mask his whole life and this was no different. 
A bark from behind caused him to whirl around. Ashera came running from around the corner, ears flapping and tail wagging. That had to be a good sign. She yipped again when she caught up to him and gripped the edge of his cuff in her sharp teeth.
"Did you find her, Ash?" Eris asked, quietly. 
He was answered with a pull of her teeth. His shoulders loosened with relief and he let Ashera guide him to wherever it was that she had found his mate. He had given Ashera the order to find her the minute he realized she was missing and had gone the opposite way of her to cover more ground. 
A few moments later, he found himself in front of the doors to the library. Ashera let go of him and started to paw at the doors with a whine. He could hear two voices from behind the doors. His mate's and....
He grabbed both handles and yanked open the double doors, stalking inside. 
"And do you want to know what I said—" His brother, Finnegan, abruptly cut off his sentence when the sound of the doors slamming shut behind Eris and Ashera caught his attention. He looked up, smirking when he caught sight of his frazzled brother. 
Seated in front of his brother, a chessboard on the table between them, was his mate. She turned in her chair, eyes wide as she looked over with surprise until she recognized who was there. A soft smile bloomed on her beautiful face, her doe eyes lighting up. 
No one had ever looked at him like that when he entered rooms. Not even his own mother. No, he was usually met with either fear or disdain. But not from his mate... She should've been staring at him with disgust or contempt, especially after how he had treated her yesterday and especially after their argument this morning when he forbade her from leaving his room. Instead, she seemed happy to see him. 
Was she putting on a front for his brother?
"Eris!" she exclaimed, rising from her seat. "You're back. Oh, you won't believe the day I've had! Finn found me wandering around and—"
"Come here," Eris ordered, cutting her off. He held out his hand towards her. His brother's smirk grew as Eris glowered at him. His mate’s eyebrows rose in question but she thankfully listened to him, walking to his side and grasping his hand in her much smaller, much softer one. 
Ashera let out an excited yip and brushed up against her legs, causing his mate to smile down at her. Honestly, he should've known she was his mate the minute his hounds hadn't torn into her when she first appeared in Autumn that day. Should've known the second Ashera had pranced forward and tried to comfort her, for Gods' sake. His dogs were prime hunters, yet around her, they were reduced to nothing more than fluffy house pets it seemed. 
He remembered seeing her for the first time, her leg stuck in that bear trap. Despite the tears running down her face and her hair tangled with leaves and twigs, she was the most beautiful female he had ever laid eyes on. So soft and delicate. The opposite of everything he was. 
But the mating bond hadn’t truly snapped until the shadowsinger had shown up in the clearing that day and whisked her into his arms. She had looked straight at him and a golden thread had unwoven in his chest, causing him to stagger back just as they disappeared in a swirl of shadows. It had taken all of his will power not to immediately storm the Night Court if only to see her for a second more.
“Can I not have her for a few more minutes, brother?” Finn asked, tossing his arms behind his head and resting his head against them with a smug grin. “We’re nearly finished with our game.”
Eris sneered at his brother. “If I see you sniffing around her again, I’ll rip out your throat.”
“Eris!” His mate exclaimed, looking up at him with wide eyes. He ignored her, still glaring daggers at his brother who didn’t even flinch at the threat. 
“You’re lucky I stumbled upon her before father did,” Finn crooned. “I’d say you owe me one for allowing her the pleasure of my company.” 
“Well, consider me not ending you where you stand your one and only favor,” Eris retorted. His mate went to pull her hand from his but he gripped her tighter, finally looking down at her. “Come on, we’re leaving.” 
He stalked towards the library door, pulling her with him despite her soft protests. He didn’t say a word to her as he led her back to his chambers, not wanting any servants milling about to gossip if they heard anything. He only released her hand once they were safely in the living area of his quarters and behind the heavy wards set up. 
“Are you out of your mind?” She hissed at him, holding her hand to her chest. 
“Are you?” He bit back, flicking his hair out of his face. “I gave your strict orders to stay here while I was gone or with your handmaidens!”
“I am not something you can just keep under lock and key!”
“You’re not in the Night Court anymore, bunny,” Eris argued. “My father is nothing like Rhysand. The males outside these doors are nothing like those two wretched Illyrians. I can have you chained to my bed and no one would bat an eye, do you understand?”
“And is that what you’ll do if I don’t listen to you?” She retorted, crossing her arms. “Put me in chains?”
“No,” he snapped. “But I will lock you in here if I must. I’d rather you hate me than let anything happen to you.” 
“Then take me out with you,” she protested. “Don’t leave me here!” 
Eris let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking down at his irritating, foolish, and completely and utterly bewitching mate. Her large eyes were hopeful, her bottom lip pinched between her teeth. The mating bond was driving him absolutely wild. He wanted to shove her against the wall and rip that lip out of her teeth with his own. 
“Please,” she whispered. 
“Fine,” he growled. “But if I agree to take you out tomorrow afternoon, you will agree to stay inside my chambers unless otherwise instructed. Do you understand?”
Those sweet, alluring eyes turned callous in a matter of seconds.
“So, you intend to treat me like a dog? Like a pet?” she snapped, crossing her arms. “Actually, I take that back. You even treat your dogs better than that!” 
As if proving her point, Ashera jumped up on the couch, laid down and covered her face with her paw, as if she felt his mate’s exasperation. 
“Have you any idea what is at stake here?” he bit back. “I do not intend to treat you like a pet. I intend to keep you safe!”
“And you think by keeping me locked away, I’ll be safe? They all know where your chambers are, Eris. I’m no safer here than I am anywhere else in this manor!” 
“At least, I’ll know where you are! Do you have any idea how worried I was when I went to find you earlier and you weren’t here?”
Her eyes widened and her arms fell limp at her sides. “You… you were worried?”
Eris tossed his arms in the air, letting out a noise of frustration. “Of course, I was worried. Do you know how many enemies I have in this court? Do you know how many people would wish to harm you if they had the chance just to hurt me?”
“I thought…” She paused, rubbing her arm.
Eris glared down at her. “You thought what? Go on, bunny, tell me what that little mind of yours thought?” 
“I thought you were mad! And can you blame me?” she huffed up at him. “You treat me like a nuisance, insult me any chance you get! Why the hell would I ever think you were worried about me? I’m sure you’d just be so over the moon if someone did get rid of me! Since I’m such a burden.” 
There were a lot of things in life Eris regretted but calling his mate a burden this morning was now on the top of that list. He hadn’t meant it. Of course, he hadn’t. She just didn’t understand the severity of the situation. He didn’t want to be mean to her or to have her hate him… but if it kept her safe, then so be it. At least, that had been his train of thought. But seeing the hurt on her face when those words had come out of his mouth had nearly killed him. 
“I’m sorry, okay,” Eris groaned. “I’m sorry I called you that. It’s not true. It was never true but bunny…you really don’t understand…”
“No, Eris, I do,” she snarled. “I’m not as stupid or naive as everyone likes to think I am!”
“Not naive?” Eris mocked. “Then what do you call galavanting around the Forest House with one of my own brothers?”
“Your brother was fine,” his mate replied. “He was perfectly polite. All he did was show me around a bit and then take me to the library as I requested.”
Eris scoffed. “You don’t know him like I do.” 
“You know what’s funny? That is the exact thing my sisters would say about me and yet they have no idea who I am. They’ve never let me be anything other than the girl they think I am. Have you thought that perhaps this competition your father has you all so convinced of between you guys doesn’t even exist? Have you ever even tried talking to one another without your father’s influence?” 
She wasn’t wrong but Eris knew how deep his father had his claws in his brothers. It would take a lot to shake them from his grasp. Time and effort he wasn’t afforded with at the moment. Not when he constantly had to look over his shoulder and now had to keep his mate safe at all times. This court was corrupt and dangerous—everyone here was in survival mode. 
These hypotheticals might be worth a discussion and if it were up to him, he would’ve taken his mother and younger brothers far away from his father a long time ago. But alas, he did not have such power…yet. But perhaps things could change. Though, nothing would so long as his father still sat on the Autumn throne. Until then, these sorts of conversations were not worth the time. 
“You speak on things you have no knowledge about and I see little point in having this conversation with you,” Eris said, straightening out his lapels. “I have a meeting I must attend with my father. Stay here.”
And then he left swiftly, before his mate could see just how much her words affected him, before he grabbed her and winnowed as far from this court as he could—consequences be damned. She drove him absolutely mad but Gods, did he find her so enticing. She was wild and impulsive and had a lot to learn, but the sort of honesty and hopeful outlook she had…Well he could only hope he could protect that, hoped he could keep her sweet and kind and soft and all the things no one had ever allowed him to be. 
· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·
You had just woken up when your two handmaidens, Willow and Ivy, entered the room, pestering you to get up. Bleary eyed, you let them drag you into the bath before they sat you in front of the vanity. Ivy braided your hair while Willow dusted some light makeup on your face. 
“Can I ask what you are prepping me for?”
“Lord Eris has requested that we get you ready for an afternoon trek on horseback,” Ivy answered, with a slight smile on her face. 
Your eyes widened, taken aback. You hadn’t spoken to Eris since your fight yesterday. In fact, he had never even returned to his chambers last night. You didn’t try to leave, in fear that you would find the door locked and all your worries of the kind of male you were mated to would be proven true. Instead, you had pretended that a night in was just what you wanted, begrudgingly following his command. 
They dressed you in an off the shoulder linen chemise and flowy skirt that fell to your shins before lacing you into a burnt orange corset that had your lungs screaming for air. They slipped a pair of brown leather boots onto your feet.
“Surely trousers would be more appropriate?” you asked, spinning around so your skirt swished around the tops of your boots. Ivy and Willow gasped at your words, placing a hand over their hearts.
“A lady should never be seen in trousers,” Ivy declared, aghast.
Their shock was humorous to you, so you bit your lip to keep from laughing. Gods, the Autumn Court was so backwards sometimes. You were getting better at choosing your battles, so you said nothing else as they led you out of Eris’s chambers to the horse stables. 
Eris stood there next to another male who was preparing two horses. Your mouth dried a bit at the sight of him. He was wearing a loosely tied tunic, tucked into brown breeches and a pair of riding boots. His red hair glimmered in the sun like a ruby gem, his pale skin nearly glowing. He looked as if the Autumn forest made him itself.  
You hadn’t realized you had paused in your steps until your two handmaidens giggled next to you. 
“You are a very lucky female, Lady Y/n,” Ivy whispered to you with another giggle, causing your cheeks to turn pink. 
“Lord Eris is a very lucky male to have someone as lovely as Lady Y/n as his mate,” Willow countered, which only made your blush deepen. 
Eris noticed you as you drew closer and his eyes trailed over your form, heat swirling in them. You felt goosebumps rise on your skin under his gaze. His fox-like face was so beautiful, so enchanting, it was hard to look away. You kept eye contact with him as your handmaidens presented you. 
“Lady Archeron, as you requested, my Lord,” Willow said as she curtsied.  
“Thank you, ladies, you may continue on with the rest of your duties,” he said to them, though he didn’t stop looking at you which caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach. The two girls sauntered off, their giggles heard until they rounded the corner. 
You wanted to be mad at him still, but this seemed like a sort of peace offering or apology for yesterday. One that you decided to accept. You walked forward until you were at his side, glancing at the large horses. 
“This is Marigold. She is our most well-mannered horse,” Eris said. “Go on, you can pet her. She won’t bite.” 
“I’ve never ridden a horse, my Lord,” you said, shyly, reaching out a hand to pet the one in front of you. 
Eris seemed surprised but made no comment on it. He simply turned to the stableboy and waved a hand at him. “One horse will do today, Landon.” 
“Oh, are you going to teach—”
You squeaked as Eris grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you onto the horse as if you weighed nothing, your cheeks turning bright red. A moment later, he lifted himself onto the horse, right behind you. The butterflies in your stomach were worked into a frenzy as his long legs encompassed you and your back was pressed against his firm chest. 
“Yes, bunny, I’m going to teach you,” Eris whispered, his breath dancing along the edge of your pointed ear. You could hear the smirk in his voice, as if he knew exactly the kind of reaction he was causing inside of you. 
“Is this not improper?” you asked. “Aren’t ladies supposed to sit with both their legs on one side?”
It had been a hard transition for you—to go from living in poverty in that tiny cottage to living in high society. You weren’t like your other sisters who had spent their childhood years being trained to be ladies. You could hardly remember any part of your life before your mother died. 
It was, perhaps, why you felt the closet to Feyre of all your sisters. Because she, too, was wild in a way that Elain and Nesta weren’t. 
“Something tells me you have no concern over how ladylike you are, bunny,” Eris chuckled, his hard chest rumbling against your back. Your cheeks flared up again and you tossed him a glare over your shoulder. 
“Everyone else seems so concerned about my virtue and image,” you hissed. 
“Well, I’m not,” Eris retorted. “Go on, grab the reins.” 
You hesitantly wrapped your fingers around the leather straps and nearly jolted in surprise as Eris’s placed his calloused hands on top of yours. He started to maneuver your fingers. “You want to keep your thumbs on top and your fingers closed around them.” 
Once he seemed satisfied, he tapped the horse on the side and she began her trot. You bit your lip as his hands slid off the reins and on to your thighs. “Relax your legs, bunny. Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall off.” 
You hadn’t realized how much you were squeezing the poor horse until he lightly stroked your thighs, getting them to loosen before his hands slid to your waist instead.
"What do I do with these?” You asked, nodding towards the reins in your hands.  
“Nothing for now,” Eris answered. “You use them to steer or to get her to stop.”
His proximity to you and the tiny circles he absentmindedly rubbed on your waist with his thumbs caused your body to hyperfocus on all the places you were touching. You could hardly pay attention to his instructions and the more the two of you continued on, the more you found yourself relaxing into his chest—soaking in the heat that seemed to exude off his body. 
Once you seemed to get the hang on the basics, a soft silence fell between the two of you. The sounds of the forest came alive the deeper you traveled into the trees. It was truly beautiful out here. The red and orange leaves on the trees reminded you of the painting Feyre had done on your drawer on the dresser back when you were living in the cottage. 
“I’m sorry,” Eris whispered into your ear, breaking the silence and surprising you. “For yesterday.” 
You softened at his words. “It’s okay.”
“No,” he said, his grip on your waist tightening. “It wasn’t okay. It pained me to hear you say I think of you as a nuisance, as something to get rid of. It is simply not true, bunny and I’m sorry for ever making you believe I think that.”
Eris didn’t seem like the type of male to apologize for his actions, so it meant more to hear it from him. 
“I just wish you would stop trying to push me away. I’m tired of everyone always deciding what's best for me instead of trusting me to know it myself,” you sighed.
“I know and I’m sorry. I know how unseen you feel.” 
He seemed to see right through you. Was it the mating bond that allowed such a thing? Or was it just something you had in common? No one had ever looked closely at you. You were the baby of the family, never allowed to be involved in decisions or important things. You lived in your own world most of the time. 
Although Eris was brought up in a far different environment than you, you couldn’t help but think he felt the same way. That he was constricted and forced to play a role he had no wish to. That he was written off as arrogant and cruel simply because he was born under a male who was. 
But he was nothing like his father. 
“I know you do because I know you feel the same way, Eris,” you whispered, glancing back at him. “But I see you.” 
“Perhaps that scares me.” His amber eyes were still guarded as he looked down at you. “No one has ever looked before. No one has ever wanted to.” 
“I do,” you said, holding his gaze. “I want to.” 
It was silent for a moment and you twisted back around, staring at the forest ahead.
“You shouldn’t,” Eris said, so quietly, that you were certain he was talking to himself. But despite his words, a tension had been lifted between the two of you.
· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·
A little while later and after several whines about her legs starting to hurt, Eris let his mate have a break. He helped her off Marigold and found a tree to tie the horse to so the two of them could walk for a bit. 
He kept a step behind her, watching as she spun in a circle, the leaves crunching beneath her boots, as she took in the forest. The wonder and excitement in her eyes caused a spark in his chest. Those things had long since been beaten out of him so it was nice to see them in someone he already cared so deeply about. 
Eris enjoyed being out here with her, away from the Forest House and everyone else. He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he kept his guard up to protect his wonderfully oblivious mate from any harm that might come her way. 
“It’s so beautiful here,” his mate whispered.
The sunlight casted gold rays of light through the leaves, illuminating her beautiful face. She looked made for this kind of place, for Autumn. His chest ached at the sight—at what could be if his father wasn’t such a conniving bastard. 
“It is,” Eris said softly, his amber eyes still trained on his mate. She peeked over her shoulder at him, blushing as she met his gaze. Gods, if he were a lesser male, he’d have shoved her up against a tree and claimed her as his already. 
“Hey, I have an idea!”
“I’m sure you do,” he chuckled and she whirled around, placing her hands on her hips as she glared at him.
“What is that supposed to mean?” 
He shook his head, biting back a smile. “Nothing. What is your idea, bunny?” 
“We should play a game,” she said. “Like hide and seek.” 
Eris snorted. “Hide and seek? What are we, children? I’m over five hundred years old, bunny, I’m not going to play games with you.” 
“Fine, suit yourself,” she shrugged. “But I guess that means you’ll have to return to the Forest House without me unless of course…you find me.”
And then she darted off into the trees, weaving her way out of his view. He expected to find himself irritated, but it was the opposite. He couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped from his mouth at how ridiculous his mate was. Ridiculous and brash—but so endearing. 
“You can’t hide from me, bunny,” he shouted into the trees.
Silence met his ears and then…a twig snapped in the distance. He sauntered off in the direction of the noise. He would entertain her absurd game but he would not be running off like some wild beast through the forest. He followed her enticing scent of harvest apples and forest pine, twisting through the tall trees and leaf-covered ground. 
He saw a flash of her hair from the corner of his eye and spun in place, listening for her footsteps. He continued following after her, getting small glimpses of her here and there, hearing the tiny giggles that seemed to echo in the silent forest and he realized that a small smile had grown on his face as the game went on. 
Until things went so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. He froze, sniffing the air. He could still smell her but where had she gone? He spun in place, looking for footprints and listening for any sounds but…nothing. His heart started to beat faster in his chest, suddenly worried she had run off too far. 
“Bunny,” he shouted. “You can come out now!” 
Nothing.
The smile on his face dropped and he continued his search. Had she ran into some creature that took her? Had his guard fallen so low that he hadn’t realized that someone else was out here? 
“Hey, bunny—fuck!”
Something ran straight into his back and wrapped their arms around his neck, making him stagger forward. He turned around and pinned them against the tree with a snarl so quickly he hadn’t even realized what exactly had knocked into him until he heard the familiar giggles and his mate’s scent washed over him. 
“Got you!”
She was staring up at him with wide, excited eyes—her face flushed from her exertion. He stared at her in disbelief, uncertain how she was able to sneak up and ambush him like that. The hand that had wrapped itself around her throat moved to rest on the tree next to her head.   
“And so the sly bunny ensnares the dumb fox,” she sang between her pants, her arms still around his neck, her back still pressed against the tree.
He let out a breath, staring down at her with a small glare. “That is not funny. I could’ve hurt you!” 
“But you didn’t,” she countered, not seeming concerned about it at all. “I’m surprised I was able to sneak behind you. I thought for sure you saw me at one point. You looked right at me!” 
His brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I was standing right there,” she laughed, pointing at a spot to their left. “And you looked right at me! I thought I was busted but I don’t know, Eris, you might be going blind with age.” 
Her eyes held amusement as she looked up at him but he was confused. He had no idea what she was talking about—he hadn’t seen her at all. She had not been standing there. She must’ve been mistaking those trees for another. 
“Very funny,” he said, deadpanned. 
“Oh, don’t be a sore loser,” she teased, her fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck, absentmindedly. Her touch sent shivers down his spine. Her body pressed against his fought against the control he had. 
He wanted to knock the smug smile right off her face. He stepped closer, placing his free hand on her sternum and trapping her against the tree. He felt her breath hitch and grinned. 
“I’m not the loser,” he purred, before leaning down to whisper in her ear, “You’re still ensnared by me, bunny. Not the other way around.” 
Being this close to her again reminded him of all the ways he would take her and he let out a heavy breath, trying to keep from getting hard and scaring her away. Her head was tilted back so she could stare at him, her smile slipping as her heart pounded loudly enough that he could hear it through her chest. It seemed to beat in rhythm was his. 
He was certain she was going to cave first. His other hand still rested against the tree next to her head, allowing her the chance to dip away if she wanted. Her cheeks turned pink and he was sure she was about to start stuttering like a girlish maiden as she usually did when she said something that absolutely surprised him.
“Maybe I want to be ensnared by you, Eris,” she whispered.
Heat spread through his body like a wildfire and he knew it exuded off of him by the way she melted into his touch, her eyes flickering down to his lips as she shuddered. She bit her lip and he growled, his hand moving up her sternum until it rested against her cheek. He plucked her lip free with his thumb and she met his gaze again—her eyes wide and innocent yet full of desire. He could feel her anticipation down the mating bond, which glowed like firelight between them, and he knew she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. 
The mating bond sang in his chest.
Mine….Mine….Mine…
She glanced down at his lips again and the look she gave him was enough to snap the last string holding his composure. 
So he surged forward and passionately kissed her. 
· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·
One second you were thinking of how much you wished Eris would kiss you and the next second he was. His lips were soft, softer than you imagined, and so warm. Your eyes fluttered shut and you kissed him back with the same fire and eagerness that had Eris groaning against your lips. The hand that was resting on your cheek moved to your neck and angled your head back farther so he could deepen the kiss.
One of your own hands slipped into his hair, tangling some red strands between your fingers as the butterflies in your stomach began their frenzy again. All thoughts seemed to cease at that moment. All you could feel was Eris’s body pressed against yours, his kiss so full of hunger that your knees almost buckled under the weight of it. 
Your other hand slipped down to grab onto the collar of his tunic and yank him closer. He growled and bit down on your bottom lip; you gasped at the slight pain. He used that opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth and his kiss turned crazed. 
Fire sparked under your skin, so hot it threatened to consume you. 
His hand slipped down to your thigh, yanking your leg up around his hip so he could press in closer to you—nailing you to the tree. The rough bark rubbed against your back, serving as a contrast to the softness of his lips on yours. 
He devoured you, kissed you in a way no one ever had before. You didn’t fight for dominance. Not when it felt this good to surrender yourself to him. Heat and wetness pooled in your core—the evidence of his own arousal pressed firmly against your stomach as his tongue continued to explore every crevice in your mouth, claiming it as his. 
Every inch of your skin was tingling as he pulled away and began to trail feverish kisses down your jaw and neck—giving you the chance to breathe for a moment. You whimpered as his canines nipped at the sensitive skin on your throat, marking you. 
“Do you know how much I think of this?” Eris groaned against your skin, his nose trailing up the column of your throat. “Of ravishing you like this.” 
“Y-you do?” You stuttered as his canines grazed your neck again—reminding you again that Eris was no human man. No, he was much more than that of a man. He wasn’t even a full High Lord yet and still, you could feel his power crackling around you like burning embers. 
“Oh, bunny,” Eris purred, pulling back to look at you with that fox-like grin that had your knees weak again. “I think of you like this—at my mercy—all the damn time.” 
He leaned down and kissed you again until your face was flushed, your lips swollen and your neck was full of love bites. The both of you were panting as he rested his forehead against yours, his amber eyes staring down at you with flame licking his irises, full of hunger and lust and longing. 
You knew at that moment that you belonged to Eris because there was no way anyone else on this earth would make you feel as you did now. And you didn’t want there to be anyone else. No, your heart and mind sang for him and him only. No matter how things turned out, you knew they always would. It was scary and thrilling and daunting but it was true. 
And by the way he stared down at you, you knew he felt it too. 
· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·
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