#my wrist hurts I need to pace myself lmao

[froganni]

Tempted to post a gem and Pearl fighting doodle dump

But first gotta finish the life series template, and then decide if I want to refine sketches more

#I've had free time for the first time in months and I've been drawing for 3 days straight #it's been fun #trying to pace myself and not hurt my wrist tho #i also need to update my fanfic lmao

[buckymorelikefuckme]

and really bad eggs

pirate king wanda x fem reader

words: 2.1k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** mentions and slight description of injury, hurt/comfort, smüt, scissoring. if i missed anything pls let me know!

a/n: well i guess it's a series now lmao~ is 3am posting going to become my new thing? we shall see. i hope you enjoy :) also, there's a cameo of two of our fave dudes in here hehe! unbeta'd. any and all mistakes are mine. feedback is encouraged & appreciated ♡

part 1 ❀ part 2 ❀ part 4

You pace impatiently along the deck, eyes straining through the moonlight as you search for the return of your crew mates and captain. They should've been back ages ago. You'd been given strict instruction to stay on the ship, the captain using the excuse of your poor combat skills for her reasoning.

“I've been practicing with Natasha,” you'd protested as you watched Wanda gather her effects.

You would be approaching the port soon and she always liked being ready to step off the ship the moment it was docked. Feeling desperate yet helpless, you continued staring at your lover as she checked her pistols and secured her sword.

Wanda sighed. “Yes, and I've heard of your improvement,” she admitted. “But Natasha still thinks you need more time before you're ready for a real fight.”

“You say all the time how rare fights happen once the villagers realize who you are!” you retorted.

“I am not going to argue with you on this,” she replied, her tone firm. “My mind is made up. You will stay here.”

You clenched your jaw. “Are you saying this as my captain, or as my lover?”

Wanda spun to face you with a hard look. You lifted your chin, having been on the receiving end of such an expression several times before. She was always calling you stubborn, and that wasn't going to change any time soon.

“When did I stop being both, hm?” she wondered, taking slow, deliberate steps towards you. “What have I done to deserve this treatment?”

You didn’t reply, frowning as you broke your stare. When Wanda spoke again, it was low, so quiet it was almost a whisper.

“I could not live with the thought of you getting hurt, or worse, because you could not defend yourself properly,” she confessed. “Perhaps I do not express myself well enough, if you are under the impression that I could be so impassive with your precious life.”

You blinked away the tears that built in your eyes.

“I have fought in my fair share of duals, and even I have had many close calls, despite my years of training,” she added, and you hated the reminder, having bore witness to the scars that decorate her skin to prove her words. She cupped your cheeks, forcing you to meet her imploring gaze. “I will not have your blood on my hands.”

A shaky breath escaped you, still feeling utterly helpless, useless, but you reached up to gently grasp her wrists. As much as it pained you, you nodded in understanding. She sighed, eased, and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, promising to return as quickly as possible.

Now, a sense of foreboding has been steadily rising within you. It's never taken this long for a raid. You wring your hands anxiously, contemplating if Wanda would be angry with you if you left the ship with your sword in hand.

However, you don't get the chance to decide. You hear voices approach, and soon after, the crew bustles out of the tree line. Your relief is palpable as you press your hand to your chest, muttering a quick thank god under your breath as they grow nearer.

It takes a moment for you to notice, so washed in comfort by everyone’s return, that a few people are carefully carrying someone back to the ship. Just as quickly as the relief appeared, it leaves you entirely. Your skin goes hot then cold, so fast that it leaves your head spinning, dread settling heavily in your stomach.

As the crew begin boarding the ship, none of them meet your eyes. Panic wells, and you find yourself stumbling across the deck, shouldering past several people. Natasha stops you before you can go around her.

“She's fine,” she murmurs.

“She–She's being carried onto the ship,” you point out dumbly.

Natasha grips your shoulders. “Her wound is not serious. We had to clean it and stitch it to stop the bleeding before we could return.”

You whimper, covering your mouth as fresh tears fall. “She was bleeding?”

Natasha sighs heavily. “Before we could announce ourselves, some skinny, little idiot and his friend thought themselves to be heroes and charged us.” She rolls her eyes, agitated all over again by this person. “The Captain stepped in and was grazed by his dagger while she was trying to subdue him. Once he found out who we were it was easy to get them to back down.”

She pauses, huffing. “For whatever reason, the Captain invited them to join the crew after they'd apologized a million times and begged her pardon.”

You blink a few times, mind whirling. “But she's okay?” you clarify, your only worry.

Natasha’s face softens as she nods. “Aye. I made them carry her back so she wouldn't put a strain on her stitches. It's just a superficial wound.”

Just then, Wanda is carried on board, and you rush to her.

“This is ridiculous. I am perfectly capable of walking,” you hear her grumble and it makes a choked sob slip past your lips. Her eyes meet yours and she orders the men to stop. “Put me down,” she tells them, and when they try to argue, “Now!”

Not wanting to receive some form of punishment, they listen, gingerly helping her rise and stand. She winces, her hand clutching her side, just below her ribs. You take cautious steps toward her, but you stop a couple feet away.

“Come here, my love,” she says, holding out her free arm.

You close the space between you, tears spilling down your cheeks as you check her over for more injuries, hands hovering unsurely around her. She grabs one of your hands and pulls you into her, hugging you tightly. You bury your face in her neck as you cry, relieved all over again, feeling her warm and solid beneath your hands. She shushes you softly, kissing you wherever she can reach.

“I'm alright, my angel, I'm fine,” she reassures.

“You were hurt,” you correct thickly. “I wasn't there and you got hurt.”

“It's nothing I can't handle,” she replies. She brushes your hair off your shoulder so she can kiss along the expanse of your collarbone. “Why don't we go to my quarters, hm?”

You swallow past the lump in your throat and nod, letting her lead you in the direction of her cabin. Along the way, you spy two new faces; a skinny, blond man whose eyes are wide as he takes in the massive ship, and a dark haired man that follows close behind, looking resigned to his fate. You make a mental note to give them a stern talking to later.

Wanda closes and locks the door to her cabin once the two of you are inside. She turns to you and meets you halfway for a bruising kiss.

The only thought playing on a loop in your mind is that you could have lost her. It's silly, especially knowing her injury is not that serious, but also knowing that she'd gotten hurt and you weren't there to help makes your chest seize uncomfortably. You just need to assure yourself that she really is okay.

Your hands grab fistfuls of her hair as you deepen the kiss into something sharper, messier. Wanda grunts, her own hands sliding down your back until they can squeeze your ass. You moan brokenly into her mouth.

She breaks the kiss to mutter, “Feel me? I'm here, safe, with you.”

“If you think I'm staying behind next time, you're mad,” you respond, licking a hot line up the side of her neck.

Her head tips back as she laughs, the sound teetering off into a gasp when you bite down and begin sucking a mark into her skin.

“I figured you would say so,” she says.

Without a word, you make quick work of undoing the laces of her trousers. She helps you undress her, slipping off her coat and unbuttoning her waistcoat before she reaches for you. Her deft fingers work on removing your corset and dress until you're completely bare. She steps out of her trousers that have pooled at her ankles, kicking her boots off in the process.

The stark contrast of the stitches against her skin is like a punch to the gut. You softly trail your fingers just below them.

“Lie down,” you tell her.

She opens her mouth to protest, but you send her a look that begs her to simply do as she's told, and for once, she listens. She walks over to her bed with you in tow and eases her way onto it. You crawl on after her, sitting between her thighs.

“No teasing,” she intones, tacking on a quiet, “please.”

You hadn't planned on such a thing anyway. Instead of verbally replying, you lift one of her legs and straddle the other, shuffling forward until you can align your pussy with hers. You place a kiss on her calf and then grind forward.

Twin gasps echo in the room, pleasure setting your bodies ablaze. Wanda’s eyes close as she pants at the feel of your wet cores sliding together. It sends a shudder down your spine, mouth falling open as your clit is stimulated perfectly.

“Doing such a good job, my angel,” Wanda praises, making you whine and grind harder. “You feel exquisite. Love feeling your cunt, dripping and desperate against mine.”

“My King, please,” you whimper.

She moans and yanks you down for a kiss, sucking on your tongue, biting your lip. You cry out when her fingers pinch and tug your nipples, hips twitching out of rhythm for a moment before you regain it. Both of your thighs are messy with slick, the sound of it sending heat up to your face, makes your clit throb.

“Come on, then. Let me hear you,” she orders. “Want to see you come apart on top of me.”

You feel a sudden smack to your ass and you're keening, grinding faster as sweat forms across your hairline, on the small of your back. Wanda isn't faring any better, her cheeks flushed a stunning shade of pink. She keeps spanking you, urging you on. Your ass stings, but it's a welcome feeling, a reminder that she's here, below you.

“Come for me, pretty girl,” she requests.

You can only listen, your clit beating in time with your heart as you grind it on hers, moaning loudly when your orgasm consumes you. Wanda pulls you down entirely, shifting you to lay on your side and lift your leg. With pleasure still clouding your mind, you blindly follow her silent instruction. The high of your climax hasn't even receded when she slides two fingers inside you. A surprised whine falls past your slackened lips.

“I've got to get one more out of you, my love,” she informs you, immediately thrusting her fingers at a brutal pace. “I know you can do that for me. Can't you?”

You nod, letting out noises that you're sure the crew can hear. Wanda doesn't seem to care, though, so you can't find it in you to care either. She licks into your mouth, her tongue tangling with yours, making you shiver and clench around her fingers.

“That's it, there you go,” she coos.

Her thumb joins in, swiping over your sensitive clit. You nearly scream her name. She grins proudly, curling her fingers and rubbing over the spot inside you that is sure to have you wailing. It takes only a minute longer and then your second orgasm rushes through you.

“Beautiful, so beautiful, my sweet angel,” Wanda is saying in your ear, kissing along your jaw as spots dance in your vision.

You weakly push at her hand when you become overly tender. She removes her fingers and gathers your wetness, bringing her hand down to her clit and using it to quickly get herself off. She holds your heavy lidded stare until her orgasm takes over. She tosses her head back with a cut off shout, her hips bucking into her hand.

“My handsome captain,” you say, kissing her shoulder. “Took such good care of me. Thank you, my darling.”

Wanda sighs as relaxes. “Always for you.”

You trade sweet nothings and even sweeter kisses for a few, long moments until you remember her injury. The skin around it looks more irritated than before, but she promises that she's fine, kissing away your worries.

You stay wrapped up in each other, running soothing hands over each other’s bodies for a while. When you yawn and blink drowsily, Wanda covers you with the blanket, letting you cuddle up even closer.

You're asleep between one blink and the next.

#avengers fic #marvel fic #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #pirate king wanda x reader

[riddle-me-ri]

a/n: so umm…is it weird that I’ve given myself my own like brain rot for my general-partially biased take on a character? I just couldn’t get a Southern Jonathan out of my mind lmao. Plus as much as I’m absolutely suffering in this Texas heat…I do recall a time when summer was decent, especially at night out at my papa’s house…so it’s also a wee little love letter to those days…cause I do miss them. 

Trigger Warning: alludes to sexual activity but nothing explicit, some angst if you squint, heavy touching, and kissing. Also perhaps some wee OOC-ness maybe? This is a bit before he dives deep into his Scarecrow alias and my Jonny is a bit more confident when he’s with someone he cares for…and is in his neck of the woods so to speak.

Word Count: 1.2 k

General Scarecrow/Jonathan Crane x Reader - Summer Nights

Tiny blades of fresh grass bit slightly at your bare feet as you ran through the open field. Your smile was wide to the point it almost hurt your cheeks. 

Your long-time boyfriend, Jonathan Crane held your hand tightly as he lead you across the field to a little “watering hole” he called it. 

Your legs are just about to go numb from the long exertion of running to match up with Jonny’s pace, but you finally made it to a tiny lake that laid out just before some dense woods. 

The water glittered as it reflected the bright twinkling stars on a cloudless summer night. The moment is calm, just a few chirps of crickers or the grunts of toads filled the silence. 

Then you realize that Jonathan isn’t beside you anymore. 

“Jon?” You asked out loud, softly at first. “Ugh, Jonny! Where are you?” 

“Right here, darlin’.” He was behind a tall and wide tree. 

You walked over to the tree. “What’re you doing?” 

“Well, wouldn’t want to get my workin’ clothes wet, now would I?” He stepped out from behind the tree and he wore nothing but his boxer shorts. 

“Jonathan!” You squealed as you instinctively covered your eyes and turned away. 

“What? It’s not like you ain’t seen me in my skivvies before-”

“Not out here…i-in the open!” You hissed, you quickly glance around, hoping no one would show up to prove your point. 

“Honey, I can assure you we’re the only ones out here. You ain’t got nothin’ to be afraid of.” 

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “That’s rich coming from you.” 

Jonathan chuckled deviously. “Point taken. But I promise nothin’ will getcha…especially with me around.” 

He walked up towards you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You placed your hands on his chest. You could feel the pounding rhythmic beating of his heart past his pale skin. 

“Well…”

“Well what?” 

Jonathan grinned. “Aren’tcha gonna join me?” 

“Wha–?” Before you could finish asking, Jonathan broke from the embrace and dashed toward the short wooden pier. 

“Jonny!” You shouted, astonished. 

The only response was the sound of splashing water. 

You rushed out to the edge of the pier and watched your lanky boyfriend breakthrough the water. 

“What’re you waiting for? It’s awfully lonely out here!” He chuckled, swimming closer to you just below the edge of the pier. 

You were silent for a beat as your eyes shifted left to right. 

“Is the water cold?”

“Nope.” 

“Do I need to take off my clothes?” 

“Unless you wanna be cold when you get out, darlin’.”

Another beat. You sighed before slowly deciding to take off your clothes. You were still hesitant to get in until you were down to your underwear and heard Jon let out a wolf whistle. Pulled by the urge to smack him, you dove in after him. 

Jonathan’s laugh echoed as he tried to fend off your hands, restraining them in his hands by your wrists. 

“Was that so hard?” He teased. 

“No…but you lied. The water is a little cold.” You huffed.

Jonathan chuckled warmly, he placed your wrists around his neck and his hands went under water to wrap around your waist. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll help warm ya up.” 

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” You deadpanned before he leaned in to kiss you. 

His lips were wet from the water, making it all the more easier to get your tongue to slide past his lips and into his mouth. Your skin began sticking to his and his grip around your waist got stronger and tighter as if he was trying to keep you afloat for as long as he can. 

You slowly, although reluctantly pulled back. You rested the tip of your nose against the tip of his crooked one. You remember how it got so crooked in the first place. It was already adorably long…but it wasn’t always crooked. 

A couple of classmates from your college have always harassed you and one day Jonny saw it, needless to say he wasn’t going to let them pick on you, like they did him, without a fight. The fight eventually got broken up by the dean and Jonathan and the other party was suspended for a time. 

When you went to check on him the following day, his nose was inflamed and constantly bleeding. You remember kissing it that day…and the next day the bleeding stopped and the swelling went down. 

Back in the present, Jonathan began kissing and lightly suckling on the water droplets that fell down your neck. 

“J-Jonny…” You mumbled out, breathlessly. “I gotta ask you something.” 

Jonathan didn’t hesitate to raise his head up to look at you. “What is it, darlin’?” 

“I just…I’m worried about this whole…fear tactic thing…I don’t want you to get in trouble or get hurt! Billy isn’t worth the risk…just to get back at him?” 

Jonathan sighed. “Honey, we’ve been over this…men…or, better yet, boys like him need a taste of their own medicine. They need to know what it’s like to be afraid…submissive…powerless…if they don’t they’re just gonna keep picking on those weakest.” 

“But does it have to be you? Why do you got to do it?” 

Jonathan perked up an eyebrow, his eyes wandered off into the water as he thought about why. “Because I know…I know fear better than most anyone. Who better to rear it’s ugly head?” 

Your shoulders sloched as you sighed in defeat. You suppose there truly was no getting to him. To back out of this plan of his. 

You brought your hands up from around his neck to frame his jaw on both sides. Your thumb caressing just below his cheeks. 

“Just…please be careful, sweetheart.” You pleaded.

Jonathan leaned his face into your touch before softly kissing along the inside of your palm. “I will, honey. I always am.” 

“I’m looking at a crooked nose that says otherwise.” You giggled. 

Jonathan chuckled. “It didn’t get crooked under the best of circumstances, but I know you love it.” He brought his face down towards yours and rubbed his nose side to side against yours. 

Your smile grew as you pulled him in closer so his lips can meet yours again. 

After sucking on each other’s lips for awhile, Jonathan resumed his task from before with suckling along your skin. Finishing where he left off on one side of your neck and then going to the other side. Your fingers were dug deep in his wet mop of sandy brown hair, doing all that you can to keep his attention there. 

Jonathan pulled you closer to him once more, as the water tries to pull you apart. When your body was up against his, you felt a certain bulge below the surface. Your audible gasp, clued Jonathan to know you knew. 

“I think it’s time for us to take this back to dry land, whataya say, darlin’?” Jonathan whispered in your ear. 

You gulped, nodding your head against his. “Please.” 

Jonathan chuckled deviously. “You better shake a leg, or I’ma just have to drag you to the bottom with me.” 

You dramatically shrieked at the threat as you began swimming back to shore, with Jonathan quickly following you in your wake.

#ri writes #the scarecrow x reader #jonathan crane x reader

[bringmefoxgloves]

very long vent stuff about life under cut. it’s a road map for what is going wrong in my life and setting out what i have to do. don’t feel like you need to read it at all lmao, this more for my own reference and reflection.

i’m looking at my future and how i could ever afford to move out and live my best, healthy and accomplished life. i’m looking down some hard numbers and facts.

this is all more for my own sake, seeing everything laid out for myself and what i need to accomplish and what i need to pay, what i should do in what order.

my school financial aid offer finally came back. my program’s estimated cost is $13,693, and i was offered $7,745 in aid. $4,245 of that is a pell grant (i don’t have to pay that back), while $3,500 of that is a federal direct stafford loan-sub (which i will have to pay back) and it leaves $5,948 that i have to make up somehow. and this is estimated, not actual.

i still need a laptop because i need the ability to study not in my room for various reasons such as ability to study anywhere if i need to get out of the house, so i don’t feel ashamed of the view of my messy room and feel like i won’t want to log on, and so i can do schoolwork while laying down or at a bigger table/desk than my very small desk in my room.

for a laptop that will last me my entire school time, i would be looking at $250 to $650 for a laptop, on the budget end, i think.

so in total for school, i think, i need somewhere around $5,500.

i need to visit student financial aid on monday and explore the options and opportunities of possible grants or scholarships to help cover the gap.

i would also have to add on 8 months to my two year (or more) bachelor’s degree in health information management for medical coding if it isn’t included in my program. also the field could be changing fast and i may have to pivot in what i am pursuing in my education.

as for my health issues, and the possibility of diagnosis, that depends.

i need to do some personal reckoning, getting myself on a schedule and routine. i do have to admit i have let my own personal hygiene and habits slip. that is my personal responsibility.

i need to make sure i go to bed on time, rather than stay up on my phone. i need to take my nighttime medication, wake up in the morning and shower and take my morning medicines, including my testosterone, on a normal daily basis. i also need to drink more water, way more.

however i know that will take away spoons from my already low amount of spoons available. i need to balance my life schedule and activity load, pacing myself. i should do anything my doctor recommends for me to do to help control what i can.

in the area of diagnosis, i am already diagnosed with adhd (inattentive) and long covid.

i’m working on getting a diagnosis for my chronic fatigue, racing heart and pre-syncope (which i believe is pots, which is connected to long covid). however, i also have joint instability, chronic pain, weakness my limbs, trouble walking without mobility aids (however most days using a cane makes my wrist, elbow and should joints hurt), and making sure my legs/spine are supporting myself as my legs and spine feel extremely unstable (i believe this is EDS or one of its related diagnoses).

all these health conditions are ones that immediately impact my health and functioning levels. i need to get these conditions supported and reduced in severity as none of them are curable conditions (if these things are from the conditions i suspect).

i may have more serious conditions or complications of these conditions that i have not noticed or are not diagnosed and may further disable me. that too is a reality i should keep in mind going forward.

i need to continue with the doctor i’m working with to try and get diagnosed or find the condition that is causing my decreased functioning. this will take time, as i just today finished and sent off my heart monitor to be analyzed. this will take a while.

however i will soon be having a follow up with my doctor for my wellbutrin prescription, which currently doesn’t feel like it is affecting me much, though that might be because my chronic fatigue and pain make my brain fog and anxiety mask any benefits of the medication. i might have to increase my dosage or switch up my medication. i need to discuss this with my doctor.

another thing i might look into, is getting a tilt table test as it seems my doctor is amenable to it, and that would help me reach my pots diagnosis faster. that means i would have to drive up to portland. also, i need to bring up my joint pain and instability to them, and my desire for mobility supports.

as for these mobility supports and other care needs, which i think would contribute to my comfort and wellbeing, they are but not limited to: a cane, a wheelchair, shower stool, finger splint rings, wrist supports, joint wraps, compression socks, heart monitoring watch, kt tape, and a weighted blanket. some of these are able to be covered by my health insurance as long as i get diagnosed, but others might not. i will need to research costs and plan ahead.

a further diagnosis i might need to push for is my autism diagnosis. i have been resistant to receiving one, as it would limit some aspects of my life to be labeled as such (i have heard horror stories of discrimination in healthcare settings, workplaces and it limits which countries would take me if i decide to leave the us as my home) but i think, overall, it would be helpful to me in the long run.

i think my autism has a much bigger impact on my entire life, since childhood, than i had previously wished to acknowledge. it impacts my life skills, social interactions, ability to create relationships, daily activities (such as showering and eating), schooling (i’ve failed out of college multiple times, which i think can also be contributed to adhd), and my ability to work (i have never been able to hold onto a job for longer than a couple of years).

in my current situation i don’t feel comfortable to do behaviors that will mitigate meltdowns or shutdowns, and burnout. i don’t want to stim in any highly noticeable way and i mask constantly, even at home, because i was trained out of that through schooling and the ignorance of my family.

the stiming i do feel fine doing are more self injurious than helpful, such as skin picking, scratching and peeling my lips. i know it is resulting from higher stress levels that i engage in these behaviors more.

i also don’t discuss my special interests or feel like i have the support or space to pursue them. my family regards my special interests as failed hobbies and strange obsessions, and find my info dumps tiring or annoying to deal with, especially my step father and younger brother.

they don’t seem to care about learning more about my autism and how it affects me, if not they don’t want to learn about the spectrum of autism as i think i live in an under diagnosed home and they would have to confront their own issues.

if i was diagnosed, i could get far more support and accommodations for my behaviors and needs. future work would be easier if i could wear headphones and have other needs met. schooling would be easier as well. and i could potentially get more benefits, if i was able to be granted some form of disability payment, or have lower income housing open to me applying.

one fear i have about getting an autism diagnosis is that my gender identity would be invalidated and ignored and medical care would be denied to me. i don’t think that my current pcp doctor would limit my care if i had a diagnosis. i also need to get back into therapy to support me through this process. and getting a diagnosis might make it possible for me to access supported but independent housing i need for my own health.

i truly believe that moving out would be my best option at this point. i want to live on my own so i can take control of my life. ideally i would like to live in a one bedroom apartment at this point, working towards buying my own home. at the very least i want to have some sort of rental assistance, if available. i would even be willing to move into a trailer park.

ultimately i just want my own space. it will help with my mental state and grant me the ability to make my own decisions about every aspect of my life, something i need to relieve my anxiety and depression. i don’t feel fully supported or safe in my home.

if i lived on my own i can improve my nutrition by being able to cook and eat what i want when i want, and receive snap benefits because my family wouldn’t be contributing as much to my food. i would control what would be in my fridge and cupboards, how many dishes i produce.

i also wouldn’t have my mother judging what i ate or make or telling me to go on fad diets, complaining that she is overweight (so i am too by extension because i have her same body size and type), seek out alternative medicine that has no proven benefits, or try to get me to take unproven supplements as magical cure alls. her issues with her health wouldn’t be projected onto me.

if i lived on my own, i could potentially live in a more accessible environment, where i could use my mobility aids or lay on the floor as needed, do my own gentle exercise (yoga, strength training), and have a bathroom to myself. i wouldn’t have to explain and justify my pain levels or ability to accomplish tasks, or be called lazy or weak for relying on mobility aids.

i could limit triggers (slamming doors, raised voices, loud laughter, strangers randomly appearing inside my home because they were invited in by someone i love with, being watched over my shoulder) that leave me stressed and tense and grinding my teeth, scared to leave my bedroom.

i could also reduce sensory overload by controlling my environment, such as controlling temperature and times appliances are running or fan use. i would be able to control my environment, how it looks and how it feels to my body and sensitivities.

i would be able able to control my own schedule. i would have access to public transportation and not have to coordinate my transportation with others who dominate the car usage of the household. i could go out on my own, without having to explain why or where i’m going, i could go to see friends or invite them over.

while i would be responsible for controlling my own finances and paying my own bills, cooking my own food and cleaning my environment, i don’t find those as hard as long as i can do it my way, with my system. i would actually look forward to it, to give myself a chance to be able to do hard things and survive them.

if i lived in town, i would be able to have wider job opportunities available to me and i could really start up my own business and work. being able to access an area with a better social fabric and community involvement would support me and help me make connections.

at current moment, my finances are dire. i have less than $1 in my bank account. i need to avail myself of mutual aid and fundraising. i will ask my parents for money tomorrow and lay out this life plan to them, with some adjustment to not insult or implicate them in my self neglect and worsening mental and physical health.

i still need to remain with them for a while longer, as it might take a long time for me to line all this up. i have my top surgery consult in 2025, and hopefully it will happen that same year, if not sooner. i need their assistance to care for me during my recovery period, if not i need to have friends or avail myself of the local trans community support group to find a temporary caretaker to support me.

this limits me a bit in terms of finding independence sooner rather than later but this is a long process, that i have set out for myself. it may take years for my diagnosis to all be found. it may take multiple attempts to get approved for disability. it may take years to get into an affordable apartment and set up my own place, find my own groove and system.

i need to have patience but i can’t just sit back and throw up my hands.

so what i need to do is clear. i need to work on my personal health, find out if i can get on disability and if not, part time work, and see if i could move out. all during this i need to apply myself to my studies and get my degree.

there is a long hard road ahead of me but i need to find my way to it. i can’t stay stagnant and continue to suffer in silence and pain and isolation.

i want to live my best, most healthy life i can.

i deserve to.

#wes babbles #lifeplan for the ghost

[nastybuckybarnes]

Deep End  -  Six

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: He’s back. After all your best efforts at getting away, he’s found you again. And this time, he’s not letting you go so easily. He’s determined to do whatever it takes to get you to be his. Forever.

Warnings: Dark Themes, Language, Angst, Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 4.6K

A/n: Okie dokie! I’ve got an epilogue planned but I like this. The epilogue will explain shit better but I've known that this would be the end since pretty much the beginning LMAO

Deep End Masterlist

THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

~*~

When Steve hears you stop struggling, stop fighting and stop crying, he’s nervous.

It’s been a while since he locked you up there, and he really should check on you soon, if only to make sure the baby’s okay after that stunt you pulled.

He pushes the door to the bedroom open, eyeing your figure carefully.

You look like you’re asleep. If he wasn't so attuned to your body, your heart and your breathing, he wouldn’t have noticed something’s wrong.

Your heart is beating rapidly, far faster than normal. And it’s weaker than usual.

Your breathing is shallow and strained, and your face is lacking its usual healthy glow.

He rushes to your side, tearing the rope from your wrists and touching your face carefully.

Your skin is hot to the touch, and he feels fear settle in his gut.

He doesn’t know what to do, how to help. He’s never really had to help you like this, the doctor’s always been nearby.

He grabs his phone, calling the doctor and pacing nervously.

“Sh-she’s burning up and her breathing is shallow.”

Steve's stomach drops as he listens to the doctor’s instructions, answers his questions and comes to the realization of why you’re like this.

He rolls you onto your left side, tears welling up in his eyes at how unresponsive you are.

The doctor hangs up after telling the super soldier that he’ll be there soon.

His heart is in his throat as he tries to undo the damage of his punishment, putting the evidence back in the box and kicking the rope under the bed.

You’re still unresponsive, heart weak, but your breath sounds a little less strained.

Monster. That’s what you called him. What Natasha called him and what Bucky’s asset called him.

Maybe you’re right.

But he wants you. He needs you. Giving you up would be giving up a piece of his soul and he’s not ready to do that yet.

~*~

The doctor informs him that both you and the baby are okay, but being on your back for so long was compressing a major vein supplying your baby with oxygenated blood. If he’d gotten there any later it might’ve been too late.

With strict instructions to keep you on your left side and make sure you stay hydrated, the doctor takes his leave.

He stays by your side, holding your hand tightly in both of his as he really comes to terms with the fact that it was entirely his fault. He almost killed you and your baby to prove a stupid point. To discourage you from doing the very same thing.

His heart is heavy in his chest as he listens to your heartbeat get stronger, to the baby’s heartbeat continue fluttering like a hummingbird’s.

Those two sounds bring him peace, if only temporarily.

Shattering his peace is the sound of the front door opening, followed by tiny little footsteps clomping up the stairs.

“Mommy! Mommy!”

Sarah.

Steve shoves himself to his feet and quickly leaves the room just as his daughter tries to enter.

“Sarah, mommy’s sleeping.” She frowns up at him and shakes her little blonde head.

“I need to talk to mommy!”

She walks around his legs only for him to scoop her up in his arms.

“She’s sleeping right now, honey.”

Sarah shakes her head angrily, beating her tiny fists against his shoulders.

“Let me go! I want mommy! Mommy!! Put me down!” She starts shrieking. Full-on screaming bloody murder right in his ear, and he loses his grip on the wriggling child.

She slides out of his arms and runs into the bedroom, climbing onto the bed and shaking your shoulder.

“Mommy?” She’s got little tears on her face, and they don’t cease when you don’t wake up.

“Why won’t mommy wake up?!” She looks up at Steve with terror written on her face and it shatters his heart in his chest.

“Sarah, mommy’s sick, okay? I had the doctor come over and he said that she needs to rest and when she wakes up we’re gonna need to make sure she’s got plenty of water, okay?”

Sarah’s big blue eyes are filled with tears and she shakes her head.

“I want mommy!”

She clings to your torso, crying against your shoulder in fear.

“Sarah, honey, mommy’s gonna be okay. You just gotta give her some space, okay? How about I set up a movie for you?” Sarah sniffles and slowly pulls away from you, looking at her father and shaking her head again.

“I want mommy! I hate you!”

Steve then realizes just how crucial you are. How important you are, not only to him but to his daughter as well.

Losing you would hurt so many people.

“Honey, you gotta give mommy and I some space, okay?”

He picks up the five-year-old, despite her quite literally kicking and screaming, and sets her down outside the bedroom.

He shuts the door quickly and locks it even faster.

Sarah stands outside, wailing her head off and pounding on the door with her tiny little fists.

She cries for you, over and over again, and it breaks Steve’s heart.

He’s brought back to what you said about him. About how this isn’t love.

He sits down at your side again, trying desperately to drown out the sound of his daughter crying outside as his thoughts overwhelm him.

He hasn’t been the nicest to you, that he’ll openly admit, and he makes mistakes probably more often than he doesn’t. But he loves you. He needs you.

Tears well up in his eyes and he lets out a shuddering breath.

He’ll make this right. He has to. Sarah deserves a mother, so does your unborn baby. And -though he may not deserve you- he needs you. The monster will be hard to fight, but losing you will be harder.

The damage he’s done might be irreversible, but he’s gonna do what he can to make things right, to give you a better life.

You don’t wake up for a few hours, but when you do you’re confused.

Your back aches and you feel a little dizzy as you remember what happened, how you got here.

Steve watches as you regain consciousness, confusion pulling your brows together before you slowly open your eyes.

“How’re you feeling?” He asks softly, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles soothingly.

You look up at him then drop your gaze to your belly, bringing your free hand down to rub it gently.

“Am I... are we okay?” He nods gently, tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n). I was... I don’t know, trying to teach you a lesson. And all that did was hurt you. Hurt the baby. I wanted to show you that trying to hurt yourself and hurt the baby wouldn’t fly, but I ended up doing far more damage.”

You swallow hard and struggle to push yourself into a seated position, wincing at the throb in your head.

“The doctor said that you shouldn’t move too much, and try to stay on your left side when you sleep. I-I didn't know that sleeping on your back was bad.”

You take a deep breath and look up at him, waiting for the anger to take hold in his eyes but it never does.

“I’m sorry for hurting you. For scaring you and not trusting you. I... I lost you for so many years and now I have you back and... I don’t wanna lose you again. But everything I do to try and keep you close, make you mine... all it does is push you further away and I’m sorry.”

His apology takes you by surprise, and you eye him skeptically.

How are you supposed to know if he’s telling the truth?

He drags one of his hands down his face and for a moment you can truly see just how old Steve Rogers is.

The exhaustion of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders finally shows in the lines near his eyes, the bags beneath them. But what really displays his age is his eyes. They’re so full of trauma and pain and weariness.

For the first time since waking up from the ice, Steve Rogers looks his age.

“I-I’m sorry, too,” you whisper, surprising him.

“I didn’t... I wasn’t thinking. I just... I wanted to punish you for what happened to Natasha. What you did. I wanted you to hurt but I just ended up hurting myself in the process.” You look down at your hands, trying to figure out how you want to phrase what you have to say.

“People argue, Steve. But what you do... it’s beyond that. We’re not... there are so many things wrong with what’s happening between us, what’s happened already, but I can’t leave. Sarah’s too attached and all I want for my little girl is to have a happy life. To have the happiness that was torn from me.”

Guilt settles on his chest, but he lets you continue speaking.

“I want my daughter to have a good life. I don’t want her to be afraid of-of people. The way I am. She loves you, and I know... I think you love her. You haven’t hurt her yet, and I hope it stays that way because at the rate we’re going, I'm not sure how much longer I’ll be able to do this.”

The pure fatigue on your face is more than enough explanation, but the idea of losing you is too much for him to bear.

“No, don’t say that. I’m gonna get better, okay? We-we were happy once. And we can do it again. I’ll be gentle and patient. I just... I need you, (Y/n). I need you a lot and the fact that you have such a tight hold over my every thought makes me angry. But I’m not gonna take it out on you anymore, okay?”

You let out a deep breath and eye him carefully.

“You’ve said that before.”

He thinks back to the time you spent in that cabin in the woods, where you turned his friends against him.

He has said that before, and look at where he is now.

“This time it’ll be different.”

You don’t have the energy to fight him. So if he’s gonna try, fine.

“Where’s Sarah?” You ask, hoping she’s still safely out with Morgan.

Steve’s face falls again and he stands up and opens the door to your bedroom.

Sarah sits crumpled in a ball, her cheeks covered in tears.

“Mommy!” She all but screams the word, launching to her feet.

Steve tries to take her hand but she yanks it away from him, shooting him a glare then running to the bed and climbing up beside you.

Your heart breaks when you see how sad she looks, and you hug her to your chest.

“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s okay.” She sniffles and climbs onto your lap, climbing to you like her life depends on it.

You wonder what happened while you were unconscious, what Steve did to upset her so much, and your mind immediately goes to the worst.

You look at the man, your thoughts written plainly across your face, but he quickly shakes his head.

“No. I just told her she couldn’t come in. Not ‘till you woke up. She uh... she stayed right outside the door.”

You soothe your daughter, rocking her as much as you can manage with the pain rolling down your spine.

“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s okay. Everything’s okay.” You hold her close to you, trying to calm her down while Steve looks on helplessly.

Although his daughter loves him, loves being here with him, nothing can compare to the bond that the two of you have.

The monster in him hates it. Hates that he’s not as close to his own daughter, blames you for it. But he pushes that part of himself down.

He made a promise. And this time he’s not gonna break it.

~

"Are you sure you’re okay with it?” He asks for the thousandth time.

You only shrug, fixing your hair in the mirror as the doorbell rings.

“It’s a little too late now, Steve. Besides, I don’t really care. Sarah’s gonna have fun and that’s all that matters.”

Your daughter took a few days to warm up to Steve again, but now that she has he’s not gonna risk anything changing that.

He takes one last look at you, at how pretty you look in your blue sundress, then leans forward and kisses your cheek.

“I love you, (Y/n). I can send them away.”

You take a deep breath and shake your head.

“Sarah’s excited. Besides, I wanna know what we’re having.”

You plaster on a forced smile and it breaks his heart, but he turns and heads downstairs to greet the guests.

Ever since you got hurt, he’s been nicer. Far gentler than he's ever been with you, and you’re not complaining.

Steve has the potential to be a good person, that much is obvious, but he chooses not to.

He hasn’t hurt you again, or even yelled at you. No, he’s been patient and understanding and it’s such a sharp contrast from who he was before.

You can hear him greeting the guests warmly, chatting on and on about this and that and whatever else.

Taking a deep breath to prepare yourself, you leave the faux safety of the bedroom and head down the stairs, smiling at your guests.

People that you’ve never seen before are in your house. Well, that’s not true. You’ve seen them on TV.

The Avengers are in your living room and kitchen, talking softly amongst themselves.

In the presence of these superheroes, you feel small. Weak. And you can’t fight the urge to find Steve as anxiety crawls up your spine.

He’s in the kitchen, talking animatedly with Tony Stark and Sam Wilson. Iron Man and Falcon.

He looks so at ease, his face split open with a laidback grin.

Sam’s eyes find yours and he says something to Steve, making the blond turn to you with a soft smile.

He waves you over and you obey, one hand resting delicately on your bump.

“Sam, Tony, this is my (Y/n). (Y/n), Sam and Tony.” You nod politely at them, sliding your clammy hand into Steve's nervously.

You haven’t been around this many people in a very long time.

“It’s nice to finally meet the woman who’s got Captain America so hooked! All he does is talk about you,” Sam says, a grin on his face.

You smile at him, looking up at Steve.

He nods encouragingly, smoothing his thumb over your knuckles to try and ease your anxiety.

“It’s nice to meet you, too. I, uh, I’ve heard a lot about you. About both of you.” Tony smiles looking down as someone tugs on his pant leg.

“Can I have a sleepover at Sarah’s house?!” Morgan asks excitedly, her little face full of glee.

“You’re gonna need to go ask your mother. You know she makes all the decisions.”

Tony’s gaze lifts to yours when his daughter runs to find her mom.

“Is it alright if she sleeps over tonight?”

Steve nods then looks at you.

“You alright with that?”

You’re not sure if it’s a real choice or a test, but you don’t want to find out.

“Of course. She’s always welcome here.”

Tony nods with a smile, then resumes whatever conversation they were having before you showed up.

You tune out what they’re saying, carefully rubbing over your stomach and poking at your baby whenever they decide to kick you.

“(Y/n)? Did you wanna help me set the food up outside?” Pepper’s voice breaks you from your trance, her hand coming to rest softly on your shoulder.

You look up at Steve, silently asking for permission, but he just leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips and lets go of your hand.

You follow Pepper, setting up the table in the backyard silently for a while before she clears her throat.

“How are you feeling, (Y/n)? Sarah told us you were sick.”

You swallow hard and give her a tight smile.

“I’m feeling better. Tired all the time but this little devil is to blame for that.” You poke your belly only to be met with another kick.

Pepper nods, smiling at you.

“Are you excited?”

That question throws you for a loop.

Are you? Are you excited to have another baby?

You’re excited for Sarah to have a sibling. Excited to get to hold your baby and love your baby. But the reason why you’re having the baby in the first place? The father of your baby? No.

“Yeah, I am. A little nervous, too.”

She sits down by your garden, patting the seat next to her.

“You look tired, (Y/n). More tired than a mother should be. You’re wearing yourself thin.” You keep your lips sealed, not wanting to say anything that might make Steve mad.

She sighs and sets a gentle hand on your knee.

“I don’t know what your... relationship is with Steve, but I know you’re unhappy. He’s a good guy, deep down. But you need to take care of yourself, okay? Don’t work yourself to the breaking point because it’ll be even harder to build yourself back up. Especially with a brand new baby.”

You let out a shuddering breath and nod.

“It’s just hard. I’m trying but... it’s hard.”

As you talk softly with Pepper, Steve observes the two of you.

You look so sad, so defeated. He hates that he made you look like that.

“She’s unhappy, Steve.”

He turns to the voice, eyebrows raising.

“Wanda. I didn’t know if you’d make it.” He pulls her into a hug. “I heard about what happened in Westview... Wanda, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

She sighs, pulling away with a sad smile.

“No. But I will be.” Her eyes travel back over to you for a moment, feeling the pain and the sorrow in your soul.

“Do you think she’ll ever be happy here? With me?” Wanda sighs, crossing her arms over her chest and closing her eyes, feeling your thoughts, your energy.

“It’s hard to tell. Right now she’s so... numb. Nothing but sadness and... hopelessness. Her spirit is crushed, Steve.” She reopens her eyes and turns to the blond.

“You can’t keep her here like this. It’s only a matter of time before she gets fed up and tries to do something drastic. Again.”

Steve knows. He fucking knows that. But he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do to lift your spirits.

He's given you more freedom, let you make more decisions for yourself. He’s been gentler with you, hasn't forced himself on you.

Not forcing himself on you isn’t something to gloat about, but given the history between the two of you, it’s something fairly major.

He just wants to keep you in his life. He needs to keep you in his life.

He turns to the young woman beside him, a thought bubbling into his mind.

“Could you... do something to make her happy? Make her enjoy her life here? Make her love me again?”

Wanda’s mouth curves down as she looks at you, watches you play with your daughter and Morgan.

“Steve, it’s not right.”

The blond lets out a pained breath, shaking his head desperately.

“I just want happiness, Wanda. Don’t I deserve it? Haven’t I suffered enough to deserve a happy ending?”

Wanda’s eyes glow red with sorrow as she’s reminded of her own happy ending that she had to give up.

She takes his hand and gives it a squeeze, dropping her gaze for a moment before looking over at his desperate blue eyes.

“We don’t always get what we deserve. It’s hard and it hurts, but we can't control everything. And at some point, we need to let go. No matter how hard it is or how much it hurts. We can’t hurt other people because of what we think we deserve.”

They both look back over to you, your own eyes already on the pair, but dropping as soon as you see them turn to you.

“I’m sorry, Steve. I can’t do that.”

Tears stab at his eyes and he huffs out a breath through his nose, turning on his heel and walking away from the party, from his friends.

His abrupt departure catches the attention of a few people, yourself included. Before you can get up and see what’s going on, Bucky’s on his feet and heading into the house.

The woman Steve was talking to makes her way over to you, smiling gently.

“Hi (Y/n). I’m Wanda.” You smile at her, eyes darting towards where Steve disappeared from then back to her.

Bucky re-emerges only a few moments later, shaking his head at Natasha when she gives him a quizzical look.

You turn to Wanda with a strained smile.

“Could you just watch Sarah for a minute? And make sure she has something to eat? The foods ready.” She nods, watching with sad eyes as you walk back into the house to see what’s wrong with Steve.

“Steve?” You call softly, looking around for him only to find him sitting on the couch in the living room, his face in his hands.

“Why can’t I have what I want?” His question catches you off guard and you move to stand in front of him.

He shakes his head sadly, pulling his hands off of his face to grab yours, holding them tightly.

His lips brush over your knuckles gently, before he presses the back of your hands against his forehead, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“This isn’t right.”

Your heart races in your chest, stomach tying in knots as you try to figure out what he’s talking about.

“What are you talking about? Is everything okay? Did... did I do something wrong?” Maybe you shouldn’t have talked to Pepper earlier. Maybe you should’ve just stayed quiet and smiled.

“I can’t keep you here.”

One sentence. Five words. Sixteen letters.

That’s all it takes to have your heart stuttering.

“What... what do you mean you can’t keep me here?” You try your hardest not to let your hopes get too high. Maybe he’s going to kill you. Maybe that’s what it is. It’s certainly something more up his alley than... the alternative.

He slowly raises his head, teary red eyes staring up into yours. 

“You know what I mean.”

You shake your head, needing to hear him say it himself.

“What are you saying, Steve?”

He lets out a heavy sigh and closes his eyes, the words hurting him but he needs to say them.

“You're free to go. You and Sarah.”

The breath gets knocked from your lungs, eyes wide as tears start to blossom. This is a trap. A test. It has to be. There’s no way...

“You’re letting us go?” You ask softly.

He sighs again, nodding as tears find their way down his cheeks.

“Yeah... I guess I am.”

You’re silent, staring at him and waiting for him to tell you it’s a joke, to punish you. But he doesn’t. No, instead he lets go of one of your hands and stands up, his chest almost brushing yours.

“You said I don’t love you... but I do. I love you. Or maybe I love the idea of you, I don’t know. But either way... I hate how sad you are. How sad and afraid I make you. You're free to go wherever you want.”

You’re practically hyperventilating.

After all this time, you never truly thought he’d ever let you go. That he’d have even a shred of decency left inside him.

He cups your hands together and carefully places something inside them, then turns and walks to the front door, grabbing his keys and leaving the house.

You stand silently, staring at the object in your hands until standing becomes too hard and you think you may throw up.

Then you sit down, silent tears trekking down your cheeks.

“(Y/n)?” You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting on the couch, staring at your hands, but Natasha’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.

“(Y/n), are you okay? Where’s Steve?”

You stare up at her then look back down at the tiny, life-changing object in your hands.

“He let us go,” you whisper, your glossy eyes raising to hers again.

She looks half as shocked as you feel.

“What?”

You sniffle then wipe the tears off of your cheeks.

“He’s letting us go,” you repeat, pushing yourself to your feet and holding your bump.

“Really?” You nod, eyes finding the backyard through the kitchen window.

Sarah and Morgan are playing outside with Sam and Wanda.

“What are you gonna do?”

Your heart is so full of confusion, full of pain and hurt.

“I’m gonna go cut the cake, then have a talk with Sarah.” She nods, a small smile on her face.

She heads back outside and you take a few deep breaths, trying to calm down before you go out and face Steve’s friends.

You toy with the dainty thing he dropped in your hands before nodding to yourself.

This is what’s right. It’s the right choice for both of you.

You entertain his guests for a few more hours, not wanting to clue them into anything in case they disagree with your decision, with Steve’s.

Only after the presents are given and the cake is almost completely devoured do they finally start to leave.

Wanda helps you tidy up the backyard, writing her phone number down with a soft smile and a whispered ‘if you ever need a friend’.

Everyone bids you goodbye until only Bucky and Nat are left, the metal-armed soldier staring intently at your left hand before a smile spreads across his face.

He surprises you, pulling you into a gentle hug and nodding his head.

“Congratulations, (Y/n).” You’re not sure what he’s talking about, but for some reason, you don’t think it has anything to do with the baby shower.

They leave too, and then you’re virtually alone, Sarah and Morgan asleep upstairs.

After cleaning up every last inch of the house, you head upstairs to go to sleep.

Steve isn’t home until after midnight, long after he lets his tears run dry and his heart stop shattering. It just aches now. Hurts.

He let you go. He really did it.

Deep down he knew this would be the outcome. Either this or your death, but he never wanted to accept it. Refused to admit it to himself.

But seeing Wanda... after all that she’s been through... and she’s still standing strong.

He takes his shoes off and drops his keys on the kitchen counter, freezing in his tracks when he sees the covered plate of cake with his name written on it.

The batter is blue.

A boy.

He’s gonna have a son.

A son that he’ll never get to meet. He’s given you freedom, and he doubts you’ll let him be a part of your child’s life after all that he’s put you through.

He slowly makes his way upstairs, his heart hurting when he sees no sign of your things in the pristine house.

When he pushes open the bedroom door he freezes in his tracks.

There you are, sleeping in his bed. No bags are packed, nothing is out of place, and the dainty diamond ring sits on your finger.

You’ve made your choice, he realizes, his heart jumping for joy in his chest.

He sheds his clothes then climbs into bed with you, wrapping you up in his arms and sighing heavily.

Maybe Wanda was wrong.

Maybe he’ll get his happy ending after all.

#dark!steve #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x you #steve x reader dark fic #stucky x reader dark fic #Steve rogers x reader dark fic #Steve Rogers x reader #dark!Steve Rogers x reader #Steve X reader dark fic #dark fic #dark au #Steve X reader dark au

[some-messed-up-writing-for-you]

"A drunk villain topping a sober yet submissive hero?🙏"

Request #9

Warning: nsfw.

A fun little idea! This is also the last request from my old blog's inbox, which I'm glad about because my current inbox is already filling with new requests. (Keep 'em coming tho! I love your ideas!💖)

I also gotta say, I've been on fire recently! I've been writing so much I got drafts saved and ready to be posted! Hopefully, I don't jinx myself here lmao.

Anyways, enjoy! ^^

~~~~

Hero weaved through the crowd of criminals, wine glass in hand, as they kept an eye out for their target. They have been sent out on a mission by Organization. They were to find Villain, capture them, and at last bring them to justice.

The hero was currently at a ball being held by Supervillain. Their disguise consisted of state-of-the-art technology forming a hologram over their entire body, making them look like Other Villain, with whom Villain is on good terms. Combined with a voice changer, they would no doubt fool the villain and catch them off guard.

Hero's plan was pretty basic. They were going to find Villain, drag them off somewhere away from the party, pin them down, and cuff them.

"Simple, but effective." - they thought to themself. The hero's only issue now was that they still had no idea where the hell Villain was-

"Well, hello~." - a voice slurred from behind Hero, and before they could even turn around, an arm hooked around their shoulders, and Villain's ugly mug was right in their face.

Getting into character, the hero responded, "Ah, Villain! It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Mmm, sure has. Hey, how's about we... make up for lost time, eh?" - the villain asked, leaning even closer to the disguised hero's face, running a finger down their jawline suggestively. The smell of alcohol wafting off them made Hero's eyes sting, but they played along nonetheless, "Well... I don't see why not~."

"Oh, this is perfect." - Hero thought. They have been preparing for this for weeks. They had to catch Other Villain a few weeks back, just so that they could pull this off. And out of all possible outcomes, this was the best and most convenient one.

"But perhaps let's go somewhere more... private." - the hero suggested, dragging Villain along down a nearby hallway. The other did not resist, letting 'Other Villain' pull them into a random bedroom as they drunkenly giggled to themself.

Hero locked the door behind them, and before Villain could react, they grabbed their arms and pinned them down on the side of the bed, turning off their disguise.

Villain looked surprised, then confused, and then something seemed to click in their head.

"Oh, my. Hero, if you wanted to have some fun that badly, you could have just asked~."

It was the wrong thing that clicked. Hero's face heated up at the other's words. They found themself at a loss. And in their surprise failed to realize that their hold on the villain had loosened.

Villain, drunk out of their mind, somehow noticed their slack hold, and before the hero knew it, their positions had switched. The villain was on top of them, pinning their arms above their head and grinning down at them, their bodies pressed against each other.

And as their crotches brushed, Hero's face turned beet red. They couldn't stop a shudder from running through them as the villain whispered in their ear, "So, how about it, Hero~? Wanna play~?"

The hero tried to stutter out an answer but found that they couldn't. They looked for a possible way out, and to their surprise, noticed that Villain's grip wasn't as strong as it could be. They have been pinned down by the other plenty of times in the past during their fights, so they knew that they could easily escape right now.

...

But did they want to?

Hero could feel their blood rushing down to their sex as the villain rubbed against them. They knew they shouldn't be letting this happen, but... Villain just looked so hot like this. And their touch was making the hero want more.

"F-Fine, let's play." - the villain only giggled in reply and locked their lips together, kissing hard and with need. The feeling distracting the hero's senses. They inhaled sharply as the other's grip suddenly increased. Have- Have they been pretending to be weakened?!

Hero could not escape anymore, and honestly...

...they didn't mind in the slightest.

As their kiss continued, Villain dragged the hero to the middle of the bed. Releasing their wrists, they ran their hands down Hero's chest and then began unbuttoning their shirt. In their drunken state, however, they struggled and tore the shirt open out of annoyance.

Hero whined a bit at the sight of the loose buttons flying and decided to ruin the other's shirt the same way. They went to grab the fabric and tear it off the other, only to have their hands pinned at their sides.

A "Tsk, tsk." sounded in their ear as Villain scolded them, "You don't get to touch me unless I say so." - the sudden chiding caught the hero off guard, and they couldn't stop the pit that grew in their stomach from the villain assuming control.

"Understand~?" - Villain asked, their lips brushing against the shell of Hero's ear, eliciting a small gasp from them. A wave of pleasure shot through them as the other nibbled on their earlobe.

"Y-Yes." - the hero managed to mutter out, somehow already breathless. Barely anything has happened yet, so why were they freaking out so much?! Why did- Why did it feel so... good to be below Villain like this?

Was it just the danger of letting their nemesis have control over them? The adrenaline of being at their mercy?

The excitement of being so close together?

"Good~." - the villain purred above them, running their hands across every bit of Hero's torso, dragging their nails down the other's back, arching it and making a shiver travel down their spine.

The hero had to bite back a moan as the other ground against them once more. They wanted to pull the rest of Villain's clothes off but knew that they couldn't, that they weren't allowed to.

That powerlessness only served to turn them on further. Hero clawed at the plush bedsheets below them, bunching up the fine material between their fingers. The villain chuckled at the sight, leaving a trail of kisses down the other's neck. Going down their chest, they bit the hero occasionally, bruising their flesh and making them whine needly.

Villain went even lower, tugging down the hero's pants, but only slightly, not enough to reveal their sensitive genitalia. They left even more kisses on them, licking their skin, making Hero inhale shakily and wonder what the villain's tongue would feel like just a little bit lower.

That pondering only worsened as Villain forced their legs apart and mouthed them through their pants, teasing the hero, who this time couldn't help the moan that slipped past their lips.

Hero tried to grab the other's head on instinct. They wanted to keep them there, for that sweet feeling to continue but stopped themself halfway, remembering how the villain forbade them from touching them. They grasped at the bedsheets once again, knuckles hurting from their hard grip.

"Good hero~." - Villain praised, making the hero blush even more, as they turned their head to the side, trying to hide and smush it into the pillows. Their face, however, was back on full display within seconds as the villain suddenly pulled their pants down further and took Hero into their mouth.

The hero couldn't stop the curse that left them alongside Villain's name, which they began to moan louder the more the villain licked and sucked at their privates. The feeling of the other's teeth teasingly dragging down them made Hero's back arch again, and the threat of Villain being able to bite down on them made their insides twist.

They whimpered as the villain suddenly pulled away from them, only to swallow the lump that had formed in their throat as the criminal stripped themself of their remaining clothing, revealing themself to the hero lying below them.

"Like what you see~?" - Villain asked, giggling. The alcohol in their system still making them giddy. Hero could only stare at them, impossibly red in the face as they answered, breathless, "Yes."

The villain leaned forward, once more looming over the other, and the hero whined at the sight, pleading, "V-Villain, please can I touch you? Please, I- I want to touch you, please."

"Aww, begging already?" - the villain teased, taking hold of Hero's hips and positioning themself against them. The hero went to beg more, but only a mixture of a moan and a whine left them as Villain slid into them without warning.

The villain's pace was slow and surprisingly steady, considering how drunk they were. Hero held onto the bedsheets like their life depended on it. They wanted to touch the other so, so badly.

Villain leaned down and caught their lips in a light kiss, running their hands up the hero's sides, making them squirm. A gasp left Hero as the villain hit them in the right spot. The other grinned and pushed against it, again and again, thrusting in quickly and roughly, but slowly pulling out and then repeating the cycle until the hero was begging them again.

"F-Fuck! Villain, please!" - Hero yelled across the room, their mind so clouded with lust that they have forgotten all the enemies that surrounded them, all the villains and criminals alike partying just a short distance away. So many people, which wouldn't hesitate to kill them on sight.

Villain merely grinned. They could feel their orgasm coming closer and decided that they have messed around for long enough, "Hero~..."

Said hero focused on them, as best as they could anyway, and exhaled weakly as the villain's words registered in their clouded brain.

"You may touch me~."

Hero wasted no time hooking their limbs around the other. They moaned as their lips crushed together, as Villain began to pound into them without mercy.

The feeling of their skin against each other, the sheer amount of intimacy, and physical contact quickly drove the hero over the edge. And as they yelled out the villain's name, they too felt their blissful finish wash over them.

As the two began to gasp for air, slowly coming down from their high, Villain slid off of Hero, whose eyes were closed as they tried to steady their breathing.

The hero's eyes snapped open, however, at the feeling of power suppressing cuffs locking around their wrists.

"W-Wait, what is-" - they tried but were interrupted as the door suddenly burst open, and Supervillain's henchmen flooded the room, followed by their boss.

"Are you quite done yet?" - the supervillain asked Villain, an impatient look on their face that only made the villain giggle, adding to Supervillain's annoyance.

"Yeaaah, I guess I am." - the villain responded, ignoring the shocked hero beside them as they got up from the bed and approached the supervillain.

"Unless you wanna have some fun too~?" - they asked, leaning against the other criminal, still very much but-ass naked.

Supervillain only pushed them off and growled out, "Ugh, don't touch me. You smell like heroism and righteousness. Disgusting."

"Aww, but then... don't you wanna make me smell like chaos and evilness, again~?" - Villain playfully pushed, stretching their body in a teasing manner.

The supervillain only grumbled under their breath, "Oh, you stupid fucking..." before turning to their henchmen and barking out some orders at them.

The henchmen grabbed Hero and left the room. Supervillain relocked the door behind them and proceeded to drag Villain back towards the bed.

#hero x villain #villain x hero #writing #writeblr #hero #villain #supervillain #writing prompt #prompt #request prompts #prompt request #request

[marvelfansince08love]

Secret Love

Word Count: 1720 

Pairing: Tammy x Female!Reader 

Prompts “I can’t live...not without you” “Wait, say that again?” “How could you be so irresponsible?!”

Warning: Some mention of injuries, angst with happy ending. 

A/N: For anon, thank you for sending in the request! Sorry for the slow posting I’ve had a hectic week and finally got to see my girlfriend after 14 weeks! I should be posting a lot more this coming week so enjoy! :) 

Also Tammy’s husband is called Hank in this.. if you know you know. Since we don’t know what he’s called and what HER LAST NAME IS Lmao

Permanent Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome​ @natasha-danvers​

Thank you @imnotasuperhero for reading over this, a diamond always💛

I do not own this gif! 🖤

Prompts 17,18,20

"Oh, my god! Y/N, what happened to your face?!" Tammy exclaims, her face distraught at the sight of your cut up lip and bruised face as you walk through the door of her suburban home. She races forward and tenderly reaches out to touch the hot skin making you flinch away from her touch before muttering.

"I'm fine Tam, the guy got lucky and managed one good hit. I'm okay," you reassure her while gently removing her weary hands away from your face. She wrenches her hand free from your grasp and paces angrily in front of you while the others awkwardly filter into the house and head towards the kitchen area, leaving you with the angry blonde in the hallway.

“What the hell happened?!” She exclaims hands placed on her hips, a worrying frown in place. 

"Look me, Lou, Deb and Daph were out in a bar and some guys tried hitting on Debbie and Daphne, so Lou and I tried stepping in to get them to leave them alone. Turns out, some guys don't like being told to back off by a pair of "girls" and you know I bruise like a peach," you murmur, wincing slightly as the cut on your bottom lip rubs against your top lip as you speak. 

"How could you be so irresponsible?!" She exasperated wearing a hole into the floor from her pacing. You watch as Tammy's big brown eyes scan every inch of you with worry making you squirm slightly under her tense gaze. Her eyes finally meet yours and soften at your lost puppy, doe-eyed look.

"Come on, let's get you seated in the living room and cleaned up, maybe get you some pain killers. Are you hurting elsewhere?" She asks softly, gently wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you close. You bask in her warm embrace for a moment, loving the close contact before stepping away slightly realising your place.

She's married Y/N, get over yourself.

She frowns confused at your quick retreat but focuses on getting you seated and grabbing ice from the kitchen. You hear low voices arguing between one another from the kitchen area making you grin softly, knowing that Tammy is probably scolding Debbie and Lou for bringing you back in this state. ‘Ever the mother hen of the group’ you smile to yourself. 

A few moments later Tammy renters the room, alone.

"Where are the other two? You haven't sent them to their rooms, have you?" You tease trying to ease the tension, it seems to work a little as a small smile spreads across her face making your heart flutter at the sight.

God, she's beautiful.

"No, I've sent them to the bottom step so they can think about what they've done.” She jokes before continuing “I’ve sent them home actually. I’m sure I can take care of you by myself," She teases back before taking a seat on the leg rest in front of you and making quick work at cleaning your cut lip. She gently daps at the dried-up blood making you wince causing her to hush you softly.

"You were big enough to get into a fight, so you can brave me cleaning your lip." She chastised.

"Hey! I didn't just get 'into a fight' Tam. He started it, I was just defending Daph- "

She laughs out loud humorlessly and shakes her head interrupting your defence. 

"Why am I not surprised that as soon as Daphne bloody Kluger is in a spec of trouble you come running in like the knight in shining armour. That guy could have seriously hurt you Y/N." she mutters, finishing up her work. You quickly take hold of her wrist stopping her from continuing. You lean back enough to meet her eyes as she tries to avoid your gaze.

"What do you mean by that, Tam? You just expected me to let them hit on her or worse? And by the way, I was defending her and Debbie, not just her." you retort, suddenly feeling angry at her accusation. You stand up abruptly making Tammy mimic your stance, confused at your sudden change in mood.

"Why do you care so much Tam? One minute you act like you don't give a shit about me and then all of a sudden you're like this overbearing jealous lover which I'm sure your husband loves by the way.” You pause for a breath, unable to help the following words. “Speaking of, your deadbeat husband shouldn't you be out on date night or something?" You grumble all too aware of the late-night phone calls you have been receiving from the blonde lately, complaining about his lack of interest in her and the kids, always out later than needing to be with a mysterious brunette. You’d sit and listen to her worries while reassuring her through truthful subtle words while secretly biting your tongue from saying what you really think of the asshole and that she could do so much better. You, more specifically.

“Trust me Tammy he’d be an idiot to cheat on you, you’re the best thing that guy has apart from your two beautiful children.” 

“Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate you staying up and listening to me moan on,”

“Not the usual moaning I like to hear at 2am but I guess since it’s you,” you teased one late night, while lying in your king-size bed alone wishing to have the woman currently on the phone in bed with you. 

You're brought back from your thoughts by a loud scoff. 

“Oh, please Y/N. Stop being such a child!” She reprimanded making you gape at her in shock, pointing a finger to your chest.

“Me?! I'm a child! You're the one who’s acting like a jealous girlfriend right now. I mean Daphne? Really Tammy?” You dumbfounded. 

“Of course, Daphne! Ever since you joined the team last year she’s been onto you like a dog in heat, I’m surprised you haven’t slept with her yet with the way you two look at each other. And now look at you, all bruised up for some airheaded brunette.” She spats an ugly frown in place. 

“Again, I’ll ask why do you care so much?! And before you call her an airhead, remember she’s your friend too, Tammy. Besides, you’re still over here pretending to play happy families with a guy who couldn’t care less about you. So before you go judging me for my relations, think about your own first.” You retaliate instantly regretting your remark as you watch her worry her top lip while folding her arms across her chest, guarding herself. A deafening silence falls across the living room for a moment before Tammy speaks again, her voice low and trembly. 

“Of course, I care about you, trust me... I care so fucking much about you. If anything bad had happened to you tonight I… I would have never forgiven myself. I’m sorry for going at Daphne like that… that was cruel of me. You mean so much to me Y/N, ever since we were introduced on that heist last year I knew there was something there between us that connected us, you know? You lit something inside of me that made me feel alive again.  I haven’t felt like that since… for a long time.” Tammy rambles, stepping closer to you trying to reach for your hand making you step back needing the space.

“In case you have forgotten Tam, you're married and my single ass can do what the hell it wants but I choose not to go around sleeping with any woman especially my friends, Tam!  Daphne and I are just friends nothing more nothing less.” You reassure, your voice trembling slightly feeling the truth boiling inside of you. 

‘No woman compares to you,’ You secretly confess internally, huffing in frustration. 

“Well, what if I don’t like those roles very much.” She whispers, her eyes filling with unushered tears and a small sad smile.

“What are you saying?” You ask dumbfounded. 

“What I’m saying is, I’m sick of this pussyfooting around, these longing looks between us.  I can’t stay in a loveless marriage anymore. Not when I’m so in love with you,” she cups your cheek. “Me and Hank, we… we’re getting a divorce Y/N, that’s why he isn’t here tonight. He moved out last week. I’m waiting on the papers,” 

“Wait, say that again?” You demand quietly, needing to make sure you heard correctly. Your heart beats rapidly, hoping that you heard her right. 

“Hank and I are getting a divor-”

“No, the other thing.” You rushed, needing to hear her say it again. A soft smile appears on her full lips.

“I’m in love with you Y/N. And if you’ll have me, I’d like to make something between us work. I don't care how long it takes, I… I just want you.” She vows.

 Without a second thought, you launch forward just as she does. Lips clashing hard against one another as you cradle the sides of her head softly with both hands, wincing slightly from the aching pain on your bottom lip making her pull away slightly only for you to pull her closer needing to savour the moment. Her arms wrap tightly around your waist resting against your back. The feeling of those soft lips that taste of cherry chapstick makes your heart burst with love and passion for this wonderful human being that you’ve been secretly longing for all this time. 

You both pull away simultaneously leaning your foreheads against one another as you both catch your breath, you laugh breathlessly finding this whole situation surreal. 

“I can’t believe all this time and I-” Tammy hovers her slim finger against your lip carefully to hush you.

“Just promise me one thing?” She asks quietly.

“Anything,”

“Promise you won’t get into another fight like this again? I can’t live...not without you,” She teases towards the end but the seriousness behind those sparkling brown eyes speak differently, making you nod in acknowledgement placing a light kiss to her forehead. 

“As long as I have you by my side Tam, you’ll never have to worry about that.” You promise.

With those secret love confessions said and done you seal that last promise with a kiss.

#sarah paulson x reader #tammy x reader #oceans 8 #lou miller #debbie ocean #tammy is an angel #but what is her surname #sarah paulson #prompt request #daphne kluger

[deathordesire]

Sunlight. (3/?)

Pairing: Daenerys Targaryen x Fem!Reader 

Warnings: Daenerys’ Death, angst, hurt/comfort, gore, violence, Smut between women in later chapters.

Word Count: Maxed out the post LMAO. 

Part 1 |Part 2

Greyworm and you stood on the deck as you arrive in Kingswood. His lips curled in laughter as you make jokes about never getting on a ship again. 

"I might be able to convince you otherwise," a soft voice spoke behind you. 

Dany had a small smile on her lips as you turn around, ordering the ships to begin unloading. 

You take the hand offered by the soldier beside you, stepping onto the ramp to lead the Dornishmen forward. 

The eyes on your back were heavy, a part of you wanted to run back to her and stay by her side. But you turn and meet her violet eyes, sending her a look that held more emotion that you care to admit. 

Danys brows furrow as she tries to hide her worry, lips pressing together at your goodbye. 

The soldiers outside Maegors Holdfast were facedown—weapons still sheathed. 

Stepping over them, your soldiers open the Tower doors with weapons aimed. But you are met with silence instead. 

A figure was a few feet ahead, kneeling over a guards body with cloaked robes. You shove your arm in front of the soldier beside you, barring him from stepping further at the sight ahead. 

 The figure stands and meets you halfway, but instead of attacking—the robed figure pulls down the cloak over her face. She smiles at you in greeting, both of you clasping each other's forearms in relief. 

"The halls are emptied My lady." 

You nod to her with a thankyou, having her keep watch over the doors as you and the soldiers move forward. More guards line the halls, and you find yourself feeling sorry that they had been on the wrong side. But their deaths were painless, fast. The rest were not. 

It was in the later halls that you found some of the Council members. Their faces were struck in shock, bile at the sides of their mouths from the poison.

You step over the men with a smile of satisfaction. Voices growing louder as you reach the doors of the courtyard. Your weapons were held tight as the doors open. You slip inside with your spear aimed--only for it to clash with a heavy sword. 

Brienne of Tarth was in silver armor in front of you, her jaw straining with effort. But both of you were struggling to keep the other pinned. 

You took the chance—kicking her knee and twisting your spear out of the hold to duck underneath her arm. 

 She whips around with a frustrated look on her face, striding to you. Soldiers begin pouring in at the opening you gave them, their focus on King Brandon's men already in the room. 

Brienne reaches you again, her sword raising as a loud roar emanates above. Drogon lands on the side of the Keep, red and black body bristling in warning. 

You pull your spear back, watching Brienne and Brans soldiers' faces move to ones of fear. 

A smile curls on the side of your face at Daenerys' signal. The fighting had stopped at Drogons appearance, and you turn to face the remaining Council. 

Tyrion meets your eyes, stepping forward to greet you.  "Y/N,"

Once, you might have greeted him warmly. But he betrayed you both with what he had done. 

"I have a message from Queen Daenerys Targaryen," You state. 

His eyes lower, voice holding no surprise as he speaks. "What is your message?" 

"The Mother of Dragons has come to take back what is hers. You have a choice--bend the knee," Your eyes lift to Drogon as you continue, "Or die."

His head dips before he looks back up at you, "King Brandon will need time to think it over," 

You nod to a dornish soldier behind Tyrion. Her copper armor glints as she grips his wrists, clasping chains around them. 

"Tyrion will be held for one day, at noon tomorrow we await your decision." 

None of the Council spoke, only watching as you turn and leave the Courtyard. 

Tyrion walks beside you, the Unsullied at his sides. He was silent until you left the Gates of Kings Landing, his throat clearing as he makes to speak at the tension.  "How does Dorne fair? I heard it was not affected by the winter—" 

You stop walking, sending him a cold stare. Everything in you was aching to scream at him for what he had done to Daenerys. "She loved you Tyrion," your voice low, "Trusted you." 

You begin to walk again, the Unsullied and Dornishmen resuming their pace behind you. "I will enjoy watching you burn."

The soldiers greet you with nods as you pass through the camp, heading immediately for Daenerys' tent in the middle. You pull your hair from the tightly knit war bun, nodding to Greyworm as he eyes Tyrion with cold eyes.

Yaras eyes move to yours, then back to the ground with a grimace lining her brows. "I almost didnt recognize you with your hair down." 

Your brow raises in concern, "Is everything alright?" 

"The waitin' is always the worst part." She says, settling by the unlit fire. 

You heard her Valyrian before you saw her. Danys face is emotionless as she refuses to speak to Tyrion, her fingers waving for Unsullied to take him away. 

As the night went on some soldiers broke out in drink—others kept watch with extra guard. 

Daenerys was busy even as many were at rest. But you could see the heaviness in her eyes, the stress that came from the burden of so many lives on her hands. And you wanted to hold her, to tell her everything would be alright. You hoped. 

Yourself and Yara had been speaking of your homelands to pass the time, both of you refusing to talk of War. The night grew colder as the moon came out, and Dany finally came back to the nearby fire. 

Yara purses her lips at the time, drink still in her hand as she moves closer. "The nights cold, we could warm my bed—if you've a mind," her lips pressing close to your ear. 

You pull back from her, gently squeezing her forearms, "Forgive me, but I must decline." 

Yara nods—a small smile on her face as she begins to walk backwards, "Let me know if you change your mind." Turning around to walk to her tent. 

Dany eyes you from across the fire, her attention no longer on the Dothraki beside her. Eyes gentle as she bids him goodnight. 

"Khaleesi," he states, leaving you both. 

"Are Ironborn not to your liking?" A curious look in her smile as she moves closer. 

"I've interest in only one woman." You whisper as she closes the distance between you.

Her eyes widen at your confession, hand pushing your hair over your shoulder to cradle your neck. Those purple eyes search yours with need, a low gasp stuck in your throat at the want in them. She pulls your face close, small puffs of breathe warming your lips before she kisses you.  

Danys kiss is gentle, and her other hand moving to grasp your hip roughly. You lick your lips and press hot kisses to her mouth. Teeth pulling at the soft skin as you taste the spice on her tongue. You are almost drunk at the soft whines she gives. 

She smiles against your mouth in response—hooking her fingers underneath your armored breastplate and leading you backwards into a tree. 

You demand her attention, nipping down her neck as she presses herself against you. She pulls away with a moan, pressing your foreheads together in the cold. You give her a small kiss before she slips back into her tent. A smile on your lips as you leave. 

➳ ➳ ➳

Daenerys led the soldiers the next morning by foot, she wore a silver gown made of smooth thread—her shoulders and breastplate armored with three headed dragons. You praised her neutrality, knowing that even in her urge to be civil—she would not pretend she was not a Targaryen queen. 

A few hours after sunrise, the gates open. Brienne and Tyrion walking behind Ser Davos who was wheeling out Brandon Stark to deliver his decision. The tension was heavy in the wait of the King, and  finally Bran and his council were only a few feet away. 

Drogon lands beside Daenerys seconds after, following her as she steps forward to greet them. "Brandon Stark." 

And as if he was her echo, Drogon spreads his immense wings and roars at them in warning. 

You move to Danys side, smiling as Yara does the same—both of you staying close to her. 

"You are here to take back Kings Landing." Bran states. 

"I am here to take what is mine." Daenerys answers. 

 He looks up at her, "I could refuse." his face emotionless even as he spoke the threat. 

Yourselves and the Council tense at his words, it was obvious none of you wanted more blood on your hands.   

Daenerys smiles, eyes moving to the ground, "You could," her face growing cold as she steps closer and meets his eyes before continuing, "And my soldiers will block each entry and exit. Your people would begin to starve. In months, fight over crumbs. Perhaps even kill each other for it."

You all stand silent, even Brienne was visibly troubled at the situation. And you whisper in Danys ear for permission before speaking. 

 "You did not want to be King in the first place did you Brandon?" Gently eyeing him before continuing, 

You hoped he would remember that part of himself that was still a boy with a family.  "Spare your people, let The Mother of Dragons take care of them now. As they should be."

Brans eyes were on the sky, there was still no emotion on his face.

 It took him a good three minutes of heavy silence before he spoke, "Enough blood has been spilled for a Throne that no longer exists. I must ask one thing," 

He wheels forward, setting his hands in his lap. "I wish to return to Winterfell—to be in the North." 

Daenerys lets out the tension from her soldiers, a low sigh escaping her lips as she nods. "You will be taken home to Winterfell safely,"

She turns to the remaining Council, "The rest of you have a choice, bend the knee—or exile to the North."

Brienne stalks forward, one hand resting on the armored belt at her side. "If I may, my oath still stands with Sansa's mother—I would see myself return to the North as well." 

Ser Davos agrees, "Im too fuckin' old for wars, you have my loyalty—but I will see to it that the Starks remain in Winterfell." 

Daenerys nods, accepting their answers. 

Tyrion opens his mouth to speak, but she lifts her hand up—silencing him. "You have made your choice, Lannister." 

"Well, that was disappointing." Yara states, both of you following Daenerys as she steps past Bran and moves into the Red Keep. 

"Perhaps," you reply, hearing the footfalls of hundreds of soldiers and horses following behind. 

Yara moves ahead to her side as they step through the gates. And you take care to step over rubble as the people of Kings Landing step back in surprise. 

Danys hands clench into fists her sides at the peoples obvious suffering. They were in rags—selling food and trinkets to survive. And others begging for anything you would give them. Most cower back at Daenerys' presence, but some walked past her without any reaction. 

One woman holding a barrel of wine above her head, her robes were dirty and feet bare as she passes. But her eyes did not even glance to you, she just weaves in between the soldiers and stalls—continuing her route.

 It was if they were desensitized to the pain around them and of themselves. You grit your teeth, your chest aching as you turn away. Staring at the back of Danys long braid ahead of you for distraction.

➳ ➳ ➳

"Are we leaving so soon?" You question, eyeing the horses. 

She nods, her thick braid falling over her shoulder and halfway down her back.  "It is time for our journey beyond the wall." 

 A Dothraki man holds a large white horse at Danys side, both of them speaking quickly as she mounts her horse. 

Beside Greyworm was another Unsullied soldier, he meets your eyes—leading a massive grey courser in your direction. He holds out the reigns to you with a nod.

You look at him in confusion, "For me?" 

He cracks a smile, dark eyes lighting at your surprise. "For you." 

You eye the blue eyed horse gently, taking the reins with a thankyou. 

Her hair was in thick braids over her neck, an intricate saddle already seated for you. You turn your head to meet Danys eyes, a smirk on her lips at your reaction. Patting the side of her neck, gripping the sides to heft yourself up onto her back. 

 Yara moves to Dany's horse, her brows set in determination as they exchange words. Daenerys leans down and places a gentle hand around her cheek. Bidding her a gentle goodbye before clicking her tongue and ushering her horse forward. 

She watches Daenerys as her horse begins to trot forward, her eyes meeting yours as you nudge your horse to follow. Whispering a goodbye to her softly. 

"Dany," you began, guiding your horse closer to Danys, catching her attention.  

She turns her head to you, slowing her horse to match yours. 

"Should we not visit Winterfell?" 

Dany is silent for a few moments, her hands clenching around her reins. "I have spared the Starks my wrath, should I allow them a chance at stopping my revenge?" 

You understand her anger. The North was cold, and its people hated her. They did not see what your people saw. But Dorne was much the same in their eyes, and you were not unfamiliar with the pain and threats that hatred brought. 

"They do not deserve anything more, but perhaps exchanging words would ease the news of your aim to kill their brother." 

 "I will consider what you have said." She answers, eyes moving to watch Drogon above. 

Resting on the sixth night was a relief. Daenerys had stopped the trek earlier that day due to the snow storm that had blown in. The camps were lit with fires, almost all of you hovering around them for warmth when the storm stopped. 

You stood underneath a tarped tent, a fire not too far away as Daenerys spoke with soldiers. Bran was in his own tent, Ser Davos had joined him not too long ago after cursing about the cold. 

Brienne stood beside you, her large form hunkering near the fire in silence. You were watching Daenerys laugh, the corners of her eyes crinkling. She was safe here, with those that loved her. 

You look down to the snow covered ground, boot markings obscuring the white frost. 

"You love her," Brienne states, her fur coat brushing against you. 

Your head jerks toward her, her blue eyes wide as she smiles. But there was a sadness in them. You remain silent, looking to the fire before gathering your courage to answer. "You have lost the one you love?" 

She lowers her eyes, her gloved hands fidgeting with her sword at her side. "We have all lost many things." 

You frown, turning to her with a gentle heart. "Do not let your heart turn. Mourn Brienne," Your hand sets on her gloved one, "But know that there is still love here." 

She squeezes your hand gently, the corner of her lips curling in a small smile. "I should get some rest," she begins, "Goodnight My lady." 

Dany eyes you as Brienne bids her goodnight, she mumbles something to her before the woman walks away. You smile at her, watching as she opens the curtain of her tent—holding it open for you. 

Dany woke you with gentle words, her lips pressing against yours so quickly you felt you had dreamt it. 

You mumble her name in half sleep, eyes still closed as she laughs. And a smile remained on your face even as you arrived in Winterfell. 

Daenerys leads her horse through the large gates, the small bell braided into her hair ringing. Drogon flies overhead in warning.  Soldiers walked beside you, and you raise an eyebrow at the scowls and shouting.

You step down from your horse, patting her side before handing the reins to an Unsullied beside you. Northerners spotted you easily in the crowd of soldiers, the Ginger gown you wore—interlaced with silver and snakes of Dorne. They would know that Daenerys was not alone, that Dorne was with her.

 Sansa was stepping down the stairs with a cobalt blue gown—her gown embroidered with silver patterns and flowing behind her. Arya already stood at the bottom of the steps in waiting, Needle ever present at her side. But her eyes were boring into Daenerys and the soldiers, 

"Your Grace," She greets, her blue eyes searching the soldiers and carriages. 

Daenerys nods and steps forward, saying quick words in Valyrian. She met them with a dress of pitch and fur, a golden three headed dragon embroidered into the gown all the way to her boots.

An Unsullied leads a horse carriage forward, opening the door to help Bran down from inside. Arya and Sansa were visibly relieved, even Sansa cracks a smile as Brienne moves to take Brans wheelchair. 

Ser Davos greets them warmly, walking beside Brienne to the Stark women. Arya sends Bran a small smile, ruffling the top of his hair. 

Sansa's hawk like gaze softens at the sight of Bran truly safe.  "Thankyou for returning them safely." 

"There has been enough loss." Daenerys replies, her words hanging in the air. 

The Wolf queen motions her gloved hands toward the Great hall, "Shall we speak somewhere warmer, Your Grace?" 

Dany sends her a nod with a smile that does not reach her eyes. They walk inside together, Daenerys being shadowed by a group of Dothraki and Unsullied. 

You pull your furs closer to your body, moving to stand beside a fire with Ser Davos. A while later Daenerys walks out beside Sansa, both of them tense. 

"We are to stay for the night and rest, she offers peace as we discuss my plans for revenge." Daenerys states orders to the soldiers, the horses being lead to stables and tents being pulled out to camp inside. 

The day was halfway over by the time the soldiers were done setting up. Daenerys had taken time to check on her men before the feast starts. 

She comes back a while later setting her hand on your forearm gently. You walked beside her to the Great Hall, her boots tapping the hard floors in the silence. The smell of meat and slice enveloped the hallway before the Great Hall doors were even open. 

 Greyworm and another Unsullied step from behind her, opening the doors to the hall. 

  The Stark sisters stand at your entrance. Daenerys steps inside—her braid swaying as she steps leads. You sat to the right of herself, the table parallel to the enormous fireplace. 

At Sansas table sat Arya and Brienne—instead of their backs to the fireplace they were facing Daenerys equally. You prided them on their tactics for respect, especially if this was to go well. 

On your side of the hall sat Unsullied, dornishmen and Ironborn generals and soldiers. The other sat representatives and the few remaining Lords and Ladies of the North. 

You are silent as the dining begins, cups filled with wine and all sides tense. But as the drink flows so does loose and relaxed tongue. Daenerys had others taste her first, and ate slowly. Her eyes observing the room and listening as she drank. You sip lightly at the ale, wanting a clear mind for the meeting after.

"Are you not hungry?" She asks, her brows furrowing in worry. 

You meet her eyes, eyeing the dark blue scales of her gown. "I am worried,"

Dany nods, "Drogon is close, dear heart." taking your hand in hers gently. Warmth rises into your chest as she continues to hold your hand openly as the feast continues, her finger drawing circles in your skin. Both of you nervous for what was about to come next. But you were comforted to know that she understood what you felt. And would be there even if it ended with blood.

#daenerys resurrection week #daenerys fiction #daenerys x reader #Daenerys Targaryen x reader #female reader #fanfiction #got fanfiction #daenerys targaryen fanfiction

[trillgutterbug]

ellic 4.0?

Tbh I'm like, there is Tanis fic?!?! Which, of course there is, it just never occurred to me to look for it 😅

there BARELY is tbh, and only one good nic/ellis fic (this one), which is really too bad because i ship it ferociously!!!! and i would love it if anyone wanted to come talk to me about it 👀👀 i really hope i finish this fic someday, but unfortunately doing so will require actually listening to tanis again lmao. i just did a whole relisten and barely survived it. (to be fair, i could just totally halfass the rest of this fic and that'd be about as canon-compliant as i could get, but i can't bring myself to do that.) anyway, it's set in season..... idk, 2...? whenever nic is working at pacifica, and so far it's all just ust.

(tw: aftermath of animal death)

At the end of Nic’s first break, Ellis stopped him on his way out the door. He was wearing his jacket again, zipped to the neck. His cheeks were flushed with exertion and he smelled of bright, fresh air. 

“Nic,” he said, hands tucked in his pockets. “I’d like to show you something, if you have a moment.” 

Nic hesitated, already gripping the door handle. “Okay… I’m just going out for my second period, though.”

“I know. What you need to see is in the woods. A discovery an employee just made.”

Something began squirming in Nic’s chest. A fluttering dread. “What is it?”

“I would prefer to show you.” Despite its gentleness, there was no room for negotiation in Ellis’ tone. His gaze was very direct, the position of his body next to the door as clear a message as the bright red EXIT sign above it.

Nic chewed the inside of his cheek, weighing his options. Without any surprise, he found the scales entirely unequal. As usual. “Alright,” he said at last. “Sure.” Taking his hand off the handle, he gestured Ellis forward. “After you.”

~*~

It wasn’t a long walk - seven minutes by Nic’s watch. Still, that was a third of his shift. He’d never known twenty-two minutes could fly by so quickly until he started this job. Ellis said very little, leading Nic down a winding series of trails that were vaguely familiar in the way every trail in these woods was familiar. The shades of dirt and trees, the shape of the land, were as recognizable to Nic as the quality of light in a Rembrandt.

“Where are we going?” he finally asked, when the quiet and the briskness of Ellis’ pace had worn through his last nerve. He'd turned on his voice recorder as soon as they left the facility, but so far it had mostly recorded dead air and a few birdsongs. 

“Just up ahead,” Ellis replied without looking back. 

“But what is it?”

“You’ll see.”

That was hardly a satisfactory answer, but, as it turned out, it was an accurate one. Nic knew what was coming before he even saw the clearing. Between one step and the next, he knew. His whole body seized. His muscles clenched like the hard involuntary shudder of incipient hypothermia. His feet dragged, slowed, and stopped. The Blur rushed up on him, snatching him under its thick cotton cloud before he could even consider fighting it. Distantly, through a high-pitched haze, he watched Ellis turn around. 

Ellis didn’t seem surprised he’d stopped. He regarded Nic with a calm, curious expression. “Nic? What’s wrong?” 

“I don't want to,” Nic heard himself say. His voice was low, firm. “I don't want to do this.”

Ellis took a step toward him. “What don't you want to do?”

“I don't want to see.”

Ellis watched him without speaking. It was unbearable, the inescapability of his gaze. Nic’s fists clenched. His heart began to pound. He thought about turning and running with an urgency so visceral his breath caught. If he was fast, if he was smart about it, he could get back to the facility before Ellis could stop him. He could get back to the road. He could run all the way back to his car, he could -

“It's alright,” Ellis said. “There's nothing here that can harm you.”

Nic shook his head. His chest hurt like his heart was going to burst through it. “You don't know that.”

Ellis came closer. He took his hands out of his jacket pockets. “Nic, what do you think I'm about to show you? What do you think is out here?”

Tears stung the back of Nic’s eyes. His mouth filled with the taste of salt.  “I don't know,” he whispered.

Another step. “Are you sure about that?”

Nic shut his eyes. “I don’t want to know.”

“I think it's important that you do.” Ellis touched Nic’s wrist. “May I?” 

Nic tried to say No, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out. His throat had shut tight.

Ellis drew him forward with a warm, unyielding grip. “I'm right here with you,” he said. “I won't let anything happen.”

That was bullshit, of course. Even if Ellis had been trustworthy, he didn’t understand what the Blur was capable of, what Tanis could do. He just didn’t understand. But Nic obeyed the tug of his hand anyway. He followed, blind. 

It was only around the next corner. Nic nearly walked into Ellis’ back when he stopped, then stood as still as he could, holding his breath. If he didn’t move, it wouldn’t see him. It wouldn’t catch him. 

“Nic?” Ellis’ voice was very quiet. “Open your eyes.”

He didn’t want to. But he did as he was told. 

Ellis was standing between Nic and the clearing, but Nic could see it over his shoulder. He could see the corpses, the piles of fur and feathers, the guts and the bones. He could smell rot. And, as if that seeing and smelling was an inoculation, an exorcism, the Blur receded. It drew away like a wave sucked back down a long beach. Nic was left standing cold and sick in the woods with dead animals at his feet and Cameron Ellis next to him, alone in his own mind. 

“I didn't do this,” he said, before Ellis could speak. “I didn't.”

Ellis took a moment to respond. His hand, still on Nic’s, tightened. His thumb touched the bone of Nic’s wrist. “I’m afraid evidence suggests otherwise.”

The smell roiled in the back of Nic throat, churning his stomach. He turned his head to gag, but nothing came up except some sour spit. He breathed fast and ragged until he thought he could speak again. “What evidence?” he asked. It emerged as a croak. 

“The test results for the blood swabbed from you on Friday,” said Ellis. “It's all animal. Birds and small mammals, some reptiles. The scraping from under your nails contained fur and feather keratin.” 

Ellis’ soft words permitted no misunderstanding, even though Nic very badly wanted to misunderstand. He chanced another glance over Ellis’ shoulder. It was no less horrific this time, but he forced himself to keep looking, to comprehend what he was seeing. The eviscerated birds dangling from branches, the heaps of sticky flesh among the roots. Flashes of white bone, piles of feathers, torn flesh and fur. The flies. The flies were buzzing so loud. 

“I couldn't do this,” he said. Even to himself, it sounded more like a question, a plea for agreement. “How could anyone do this?”

Ellis didn’t reply. He was looking at Nic, not the carnage around them. 

Nic swallowed, twice and then three times. He began to shiver. “You don't think I did this. You can't think that.”

“I think…” said Ellis, measuring his words, “that you were not in your right mind when you were involved in what happened here. Whatever that was.” There was nothing judgmental in his gaze, only concern. Nic wanted to shrivel beneath the weight of it, recoil like something delicate and wet withdrawing from the sun, scalded by perception. “Do you remember anything at all?”

Nic shook his head. “No. No, I -” He trailed off, distracted again, aghast. “How would someone do this?” He felt like a broken record, the needle of his mind trapped in this one deep, gouged groove. “How would someone even catch…” There were crows, sparrows, squirrels. He saw the dull stretch of something spotted and leathery, a frog or salamander skin. A rabbit’s head, attached to the stump of its spine by a thin string of flesh. Was that the bloody, disembodied leg of a wolf, or was it... 

His voice cracked. “How would I even catch all these animals?” 

“I don't know, Nic,” Ellis said. “That's what we were hoping you could tell us."

#my fic #tanis #ellic #enjoy reading this while scrolling your show's tag terry #don't tell me my characterization is whack i know what i'm doing #the formatting on this looks crazy on mobile but fine on desktop so 🤔 #what is the truth dot gif

[hallospaceboyy]

lilith gets jealous / possessive because someone flirts with the reader at an event. once they get home, lilith reminds the reader who they belong to. dirty talk + use of strap + whatever you think would go well with this ;)

Ruined

AN: I had another request for Lilith + strap so this is also fulfilling that one! The flirting is more sexual harassment than flirting, but Lilith gets all protective and then reader decides she needs a good fucking to forget the vulgarity of men. Lmao.

Warning for rough sex, use of strap on, strong language

You’ve been at Lilith's side for the majority of the party at the Academy, her arm around your waist, or her hand resting provocatively on your ass. She knows exactly how to get you worked up, whatever the occasion, and wherever you may be. She gives your ass cheek a firm squeeze and sends you a wink before pulling away.

“I just need to visit the ladies room. Don’t miss me too much, kitten.” She saunters off and you smirk, shaking your head as you watch the sway of her hips as she walks away.

She hasn’t even been gone a minute before you feel a warm hand at the small of your back, and you stiffen, turning your attention to the tall, dark haired man now at your side.

“I thought she was never going to let you out of her sight.” He murmurs, and you shudder when his nose brushes your cheek.

“It's a shame she has.” You quip, taking a step away from him and arching a brow as you regard him. He just laughs, gliding a single finger down your bare arm.

“You can’t say you don’t like the attention. She’s been feeling you up all night. I’ve been gasping for a turn myself.”

You grimace at his words, glaring at him. “Well, Lilith doesn’t share. And I'm not interested.” You try to turn away from him, and then he has a vice like grip on your wrist, pulling you flush against him. He grasps your hip, so tight it feels as if it'll bruise, and your stomach turns when his hot breath fans your face.

“I suggest you let go of her if you'd like to keep that hand.” You breathe a sigh of relief as you hear Lilith's voice, and he turns his head to glare at her as he reluctantly releases you, and you instantly recoil, rubbing at your aching wrist.

“You always have been greedy, Lilith. You never did like to share your toys.” He fixes you with an icy stare before he turns and storms away, and you swallow thickly as your eyes turn to Lilith, see the fury in her eyes.

“Are you alright, darling?” Her strong arm wraps around your waist, and you smile, nuzzling your nose against her cheek.

“I'm fine. Take me home, Lil.”

*

Lilith teleports you directly to the bedroom, and she fixes you with a heated gaze, lips curling into a smirk.

“I didn’t like seeing his hands on you. The only touch I want you to feel is my own.”

“I am more than okay with that. I wasn't exactly enjoying his... persistence.”

“Good. And you’re right. I don’t share.”

You can still feel the ache at your hip, your wrist, where his rough hands touched you, and you desperately need her to quell the reminders with touches of her own, and she seems to sense this as she takes a step closer to you, eyes roving your body in your tight red dress.

“Lilith...” You shiver as she reaches behind you, slowly pulls down the zipper of your dress, and you shimmy it off, letting it pool on the floor around your ankles. The dress was strapless, so you stand before her in no bra and a red lace thong, and Lilith licks her lips, eyes darkening.

“Tell me what you want, kitten.”

“You know what I want.”

Lilith removes her own dress, revealing pale skin, pert breasts in her black bra, taut, toned abdomen.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Touch me. Claim me. Fuck me.” You whisper as her nose brushes your jaw, and you tilt your head back, closing your eyes. Lilith growls and bites at your neck just below your ear with her sharp teeth, and you release a strangled moan.

“Get rid of those silly little panties and lay down for me.”

You immediately obey, spreading your legs and watching her as she retrieves the strap from her bedside drawer. You squirm when you see the size of it, the length and girth make your eyes widen, and your cunt aches with the anticipation of her stretching you, filling you.

The demoness is completely nude now, and she sways her hips as she approaches the bed, bringing a slender hand around the toy and rubbing at it, smirking as your legs part further of their own volition.

“Desperate for my cock, are you kitten?” Her voice is like velvet, tone teasing, and you bring a hand down between your legs, rubbing at your clit to quell the ache of arousal.

Lilith is on you in seconds, and she pins your hands roughly to the bed, face hovering inches from yours.

“Answer me.”

“Y-Yes. I want your cock. Please.” You whimper, and her grin is almost feral as she glides the tip of the toy between your folds, teasing at the slickness there, and you moan when it rubs against your clit.

“Tell me who you belong to.” She growls, and she enters you with two fingers without warning, curling them deep in your cunt, and you cry out, arching your back.

“I belong to you, Lilith.” You breathe, rutting your hips against her hand.

“Say it again.” She pulls her fingers out, and then slams them back into you, the heel of her hand crushing harshly against your clit, and you see stars.

“F-Fuck!” You keen beneath her as she sets a brutal pace with her fingers, panting and writhing against the sheets. “I-I'm yours. All yours!”

Lilith chuckles and pulls her fingers from you, and you relax against the sheets, chest heaving. Her slender fingers graze your lips, and you open your mouth obediently, sucking them clean of your arousal. You hum when the tips of them brush the back of your throat, gazing into blue eyes with heavy lids as you lave your tongue over her digits.

“Such a good girl.” She murmurs, and when she pulls her fingers away, you surge forwards and grip her wild mane of hair, falling back against the pillows, holding her face close to yours.

“Now, why don’t you fuck me with that cock of yours so I don’t forget.”

Lilith groans, and your lips part when you feel the tip of the toy press to your entrance, rolling your hips with anticipation. You can feel yourself dripping to the sheets, the slickness coating your inner thighs, and you gaze lasciviously into Lilith's eyes as she slowly pushes the tip into you, and then stops.

“Are you ready? I don’t plan to be gentle, my love.” Lilith smirks and bites her lip, raising her brows.

“I don't want you to be gentle. Ruin me.”

Lilith releases a shuddering breath at your words, her eyes almost black, her lids heavy.

“You might regret saying that.”

“We'll see.” You smirk, and then she thrusts roughly into you and you cry out as the toy fills you, stretches you blissfully, and it hurts, but it feels so very good as she fills you to the hilt. She gives you only seconds to adjust before she pulls out and thrusts into you again, pounds into you so hard that the headboard crashes against the wall.

“Such a slut for my cock, aren’t you baby?” Lilith breathes, and you moan as she speeds up her thrusts, pounding you relentlessly, and the sound of the headboard battering against the wall is deafening, and you find yourself thinking how glad you are that you don’t have neighbours, and not for the first time.

“F-Fuck Lilith yes!” You cry out as she squeezes your thighs hard, leaving hand prints on the soft flesh, and then she hooks her hands under your thighs, bringing your legs up to rest on her shoulders. She’s panting as she watches you intently, her breasts bouncing with each thrust, and despite the impulse to squeeze your eyes closed, you keep focused on her, her piercing blue eyes, her heaving chest, her hips thrusting into you brutally, and you know you’re going to be sore after this, look forward to the stinging between your legs, the ache that she's bound to leave you with.

The toy seems to hit deeper in the new position, and you keen and whine as her hips slap against the backs of your thighs. You’re impressed with the stamina of the woman, her pace doesn’t falter, even as sweat drips down her chest, between her breasts, glistens at her forehead amidst tousled hair.

Have I ruined you yet, little one?” Her thrusts slow to deep, deliberate thrusts, and you breath a little easier at the change of pace.

“Not even close.” You grin as she growls and pulls out of you, roughly rolling you onto your front. She grips your hips hard, pulling your ass into the air, and you gasp as she bites down on your ass cheek, sucking on the skin, and you know that will leave a pretty bruise.

Then the toy is filling you again, and her thrusts are coming rough and fast again, more erratic as she digs her nails into the flesh of your hips, and you can feel your orgasm building as she fists one hand in your hair, pulling your head up. You cry out in both pain and pleasure when she bottoms out, pushing the toy within you as deep as she can, and you squeeze your eyes shut, panting heavily.

“Come for me, princess. I know you can’t take much more.”

You can hear Lilith's smirk of satisfaction, and it takes only her reaching her hand around to press to your clit as she pounds into you to send you crashing over the edge, and you go rigid as she fucks you relentlessly, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through you. Your arms shake, and then give way beneath you, so you collapse to the pillow, burying your face there as you scream her name, knuckles whitening as you clutch at the sheets.

Her thrusts become slow, but just as rough as you quiver through the aftershocks, and she chuckles at your whine as she pulls out, and the way you fall onto your side, limp as a ragdoll. You hear a thud as she tosses the strap to the floor, and you whimper when her fingertips brush your folds.

“Your cunt looks so pretty, all red and swollen for me.” She murmurs, and when you open your eyes to look at her, she is gazing between your legs hungrily, biting her bottom lip. You roll onto your back and spread your legs, wiggling your hips teasingly, and the brunette raises a brow.

“Kiss it better?” You pout, and she laughs, but she’s already lowering herself to lay on her stomach, hot breath ghosting your inner thigh. You breath a sigh when her lips meet your heated core, and she presses a chaste kiss to your sensitive clit, and your hips buck as you release a soft moan.

“Well, someone's greedy.” She licks the length of your slit and hums against you, eyes fluttering closed. “I obviously haven’t quite ruined you yet. I'll have to see to that.” She nips at your clit and you gasp, hand grasping at her hair.

“Break me, my Queen. Please.”

#lilith x reader #lilith #madam satan #madam satan x reader #caos fanfiction #caos

[advernia]

of cats, jade, honey, nightingales, and spilled ink — — a compiled assortment of ikerev drabbles i’ve managed to spit out last week during break hours - they're spoiler free + scenes with vague contexts because that's all i can manage to write recently lmao _(:3 」∠)_

stray cat conjuration theory || loki & alice prompt: rain, rain, rain // shady stuff under an open umbrella

her umbrella is a shade of red.

it's shade because you see, it’s hard to be too sure considering the conditions: the umbrella’s cloth is soaked through and through due to its heroic sacrifice of shielding two people from a sudden torrential rain, the sky above them is covered by a thick spread of dark grays and obscure blacks so there’s little to no lighting that equals to harder visibility, then there’s the overgrown trees with their -

- ki, are you listening?

… hmm?

he turns his head - it’s a slow twist of his neck from up, down, then a tilt to his left with a little push forwards; perhaps painfully deliberate - and voila, there she is in all her glory; a face he was getting fond of filling his vision: wide eyes framed by dainty eyelashes, a small nose resembling what a fine-made porcelain doll might have, round lips without a single trace of rogue yet have the natural color of an enticing peach, and… oh -

alice, he says almost in sing-song, your cheeks are red. like apples! are you okay?

the umbrella skews a bit to the right as she shrinks back, grip on the handle tightening - a bit of his arm is left exposed and attacked mercilessly by the rain, dry turning damp in seconds: it’s cold and frankly annoying against his skin, but there’s a quick solution to that, and that is -

w…w-wha… hey, loki?

yes, alice?

uh… do you mind moving back? a little bit? please?

aww, but my shoulder’s gonna get wet!

oh… i wouldn’t want that either, but… don’t you think you’re standing a bit too -

- a bit too what?

a step closer has their shoulders brushing up against each other and his face just a handspan away from hers, and he takes this opportunity to peer much closer at her eyes, and he sees that her irises are a brilliant shade of -

i… i-if you move any closer, i’ll leave you here to get drenched!

a pause. brisk raindrops hitting the umbrella fill it in, dull sounds of tap tap tap tap tap, then -

he breaks into light laughter, a foot moving backwards and upper body retreating, a safe breathing space in between them now visible again.

sorry, alice! I was just kidding… did I take it too far?

really, loki… is this how you treat people who share their umbrellas with you?

nope! it’s not everyday that someone offers to share their umbrella with me… even if their umbrella’s too small to begin with.

… does that mean you want to get drenched after all?

no way!

please speak well of me || ray & alice prompt: in memor(iam)y // a fragment of me on your skin

"now that i think of it, why did you call this necklace a 'collar'?"

the king of spades raises his head briefly, eyes shifting from the wordy official document in his hands to the woman standing in his office. she's by the bookshelves, small hands, lithe fingers intent on relocating the books from their former places to wherever she saw fit. pull out, set aside, dust away, evaluate possible positions, then insert back to the shelf. rinse and repeat, like dance steps: one, two three, four, and five.

around her neck, chain hidden by the collar of her blouse and ribbon, a sparkle of green shone. it showed itself occasionally, peeking out of the ribbon when she would begin to chase the dust away from the books and shelves with a feather duster. it doesn't mix, he muses, that red ribbon against that bright green. to begin with, why was her dress blue and her ribbon red? do they mix? then again, did he really need to know?

she was wearing it, anyway - that's all.

"... i don't get you," he replies, tossing the now-signed document onto one of the many stacks piled on his desk. he gets another document from another stack and tries not to groan when he's greeted by multiple lines of ink, beautifully dull and almost consuming the paper itself. "does it matter?"

"of course it does," she replies, tone and pitch of voice a little bit higher than usual. he can't see her facial expression, but he envisions a frown - or maybe a scowl crossing her features. either way, she's not happy. "a collar is something you would use for pets. or domesticated animals."

"i know."

"so do you see me - or think of me as one?"

his lips quirk upwards, a snort escapes him. "is that your question for the day?"

she stops to glare at him, a thick tome in her hands. "that's just cheating."

"it isn't," his reply comes off as casual.

she doesn't buy it.

"i can see you grinning, ray blackwell."

he laughs when his full name rolls sharply off her tongue.

"are you actually angry, or are you trying to act like my mother?" 

♠ ♠ ♠

the king of spades learns that morning that alice the second can wield a five hundred twenty-three-page book with a thick hardbound leather cover like a training sword of the wooden variety, something that one could find in the black army's barracks.

sturdy and definitely not lethal.

he fails to account lethality for multiple hits straight to the head, though.

to his credit, she does apologize after she'd whacked him thrice. the book goes back to the shelf (without bloodstains), he mournfully clutches his head, she looks at him with worry.

"it's just that a necklace this nice," she says, fingers reaching up to her neck to clasp the jade in her palm, "doesn't deserve to be called a collar. it’s a gift from you, and i intend to treasure it when i get back to london.”

he’s not sure where’s the dull throbbing coming from now: it’s either from the back of his head, his ears, or his chest.

who cares, it hurts.

lather that honey on your tongue || blanc & alice prompt: ye olde pickup lines // romance in the eyes of the full moon

when he finds her, he sees her standing a few paces away from his house's backdoor, her hands set behind her back. her head is tilted upwards and her eyes reflect the moon over their heads: it's a large silver coin shining bright against a blackened sky scattered with stars.

he calls her name once - she turns her head, smiles and waves. moonlight casts a dainty glow on her facial features, making her skin seem softer and the blue of her eyes more vivid. he pauses for a moment before he walks to stand beside her.

"oliver told me you would be here," he says. "it seemed like you two had a pleasant chat before i arrived."

her brows furrow, lips purse themselves together. "i think oliver enjoyed it more than i did."

"oh? i would certainly enjoy myself as well, if i were in the company of such a beautiful lady such as yourself."

a pleasant smile lights up his features. one could not say the same for hers, however - her mouth has gone slightly slack, but she shook her head immediately and turns her head up back to the moon.

"i say, the moon is beautiful tonight," he says as he points to the sky with a gloved finger.

"but not as beautiful as i am, maybe?" she says, a lilt in her voice.

she laughs for a bit until she realizes that his eyes are on her: his eyes are wide open, his mouth slightly agape. heat flushes and colors her cheeks slightly.

"okay, i'm sorry," she splutters, angling her face away from him, "it's just that i mentioned to oliver that i get so flustered when you compliment me, and he said something along the lines of 'then why don't you beat the rabbit in his own game', and - "

" - and you decided to compliment yourself before i would?"

"yes, well - gosh, that sounded really awkward, didn't it? please forget i said anything."

he fixes her with a blank stare for a few seconds before chuckling.

"on the contrary, i can't deny your words."

her breath catches in her throat for a moment before she replies. "which ones?"

"you being far more beautiful than the moon will ever be, of course."

"now you're just exaggerating - i didn't even say half of that!"

"you didn't, which is why i took the honor of doing so."

he leans forward to take a lock of her hair in his fingers, pressing it to his lips with a smile.

sing sweet nightingale || sirius & alice prompt: i’m drowning in siren calls // my own two feet as a compass

that deep tone has engraved itself so distinctively well into her ears and mind that each time she would hear it, even if it was of the softest of murmurs, she would find herself looking for its source. it's almost unbelievable how it's become something like a reflex in such a short amount of time, making her feel quite sheepish. she was no dog, nor did she wish to give off the impression that she was a clingy lover constantly observing her beloved's actions... but time and time again, her body would fail her and she would always end up in another search for him.

whenever she would successfully find him, he'd pause whatever he was doing for a moment to greet her with a smile and a voice that soothes her sudden wanderlust. the sound is oh-so kind and noticeably happy so she smiles back, but somehow there's a lingering feeling of disappointment for herself.

so one day she tries to stop turning his way when she hears him from afar: whether she was at the kitchen and him just outside by the training grounds, she by the flowerbeds and he near the headquarters' entrance, or her in the saloon and him issuing orders by the hallways; she stifles the urge of her feet to drop everything and go to where he was. it's far from easy since she wants to hear more, but she tries her best and it actually works for a while - perhaps three days. it makes her feel a bit better about herself, but -

- it's all for naught when he literally corners her in her own room, back and wrists pinned against the wall. she breathes an inhale of surprise at the sudden action, turning sharp when he lowers his face so it's just inches away from her own. his breathing sounded strained, how strange, like he was in pain - oh dear, did something happen? could she be of help?

worry begins to flood her thoughts, but it's washed out without a care just as quick when his breath tickles her ear and he speaks to her with an urgency, demanding and agitated and frustrated but still so beautiful to hear -

why have you been avoiding me?

oh no, she muses but doesn't say - her body had involuntarily trembled out of sheer delight at the sound of his voice so close, heart singing loud and knees growing weak.

words don't dare crawl out of her parched throat.

trails of sea-foam ink || dean & alice prompt: that i hold dear // the chase for a permanent you

today before he leaves his home he walks over to that one drawer and collects every single letter she sent, keeps all those tiny envelopes complete with their barely torn seals inside a folder that fits snugly into his bag, then goes on his merry way.

when they meet for tea, he shoves the folder - and all those one hundred fifty-seven letters of four seasons - into her hands.

“you should do something about your penmanship,” he says like the professor he really was, and that just makes her frown. what - was her alphabet too round, the edges too curved? were the words, sentences, and paragraph alignments all wrong on each and every line, like how music notes would dance on staves?  

“i’m sorry,” she says, but she’s not even sure what she’s apologizing for. maybe it was better to ask. “... is my writing too small for you to read?”

“i would’ve told you immediately if that were the case, rather than subjecting myself to eye strain.”

“is it too large?”

he holds himself from clicking his tongue. “it’s not an issue about size.”

“oh. then is it about how i write everything in a slanting manner?”

“no - you aren’t the first and perhaps the last person i would see whose penmanship presents itself in such a script-like fashion and objectively speaking, you are one of the agreeable examples of those writing in such a style.”

“uh-huh,” her head tilts to the side, she frowns. “then can i ask you what... well, you don’t like about my handwriting?”

he raises the teacup up to his lips. what i don’t like, he muses, is how light you write. what i don’t like is how the ink you used to write all those letters is dark enough to leave its mark on the paper but light enough for me to think that its fading, like touches of moonlight on a cloudy night. it reminds me of you and how you came to be in this world in the first place, and how easy it is for you to go back if you firmly decided on it. but what i dislike the most is the fact that i still have lingering thoughts of the possibility of you leaving when every single letter you have sent me has told me otherwise, all because your penmanship is as light and dainty as yourself.

“dean?” she calls out, voice something small.

unease unable to quell itself, he allows an amount of pure black tea to hold his tongue.

#ikemen kakumei #ikemen revolution #ikerev fanfic #ikerev alice #loki genetta #ray blackwell #blanc lapin #sirius oswald #dean tweedle #drabble.txt #yeeeouch haven't done much writing recently so these feel a bit rusty #... they're a shame to scrap tho... maybe the others should go on a queue too #i like how dean's piece turned out bc the analogies mmm

[pipesflowforeverandever]

If ya don't mind, please go into detail into what's fun about writing all of your characters! (sorry, I'm an interested dork ^^;)

OKAY SO so this a bit more personal and maybe a bit “pat myself on the back” but it’s the truth so here we are.

Francine: She’s kind of me. More so, she’s my capability of expressing emotion within my own realm of experience and understanding. She’s both a reflection of how I feel about things and a flexibility of the extent to which I understand feelings and decisions. She makes me walk a mile without doing so in another pair of shoes. Honestly…writing her is an exercise in looking at how others might love and care for me. It’s done a lot for my self esteem. Of course she’s her own character too, but…I never have to wonder very hard about who she is and what she would do. It’s very comforting.

Sammy: I don’t think I can say I’m the only person for sure/anymore, but I feel the way I approached writing him was unique at the time I began doing it, in the very least within my own horizons of the fandom. To find empathy in his position, especially in his religiosity, whereas I think (in general, not just with him), it’s kind of hard to find representation of religious people who aren’t comedic relief in their faith or villains because of their religion (I know that it’s pretty easily argued the game did this, yeah.) He’s cathartic in that sense, too, because when I began writing him I was scared to confront my own dislike of my experience of religion as my parents had me know it, but as he made peace with what is and is not right about his faith, I kind of had to as well. Also in that he didn’t have to necessarily let it go to learn how to be happier.Also feelings of conflict about sacrificing people…is a very niche but intense interest for me in characters lmao. I just think he’s extremely interesting to me because his canon character had a lot of potential. It’s a delightful challenge to try to make him a relatable person. It’s also rivaled by how fun it is to think about the journey made in trying to show him kindness.

Alice: Okay so first statement is that I’m very very not straight so scary monster lady good.

Second is that in canon I had a very distinct vision for how she was as a person and how she was motivated, and when canon kind of went with another thing, I went “WELL OKAY I STILL HAVE THE ONE I MADE SO I’M GONNA JUST FOCUS ON THAT” I can and have literally thought about her for hours in just…her bitterness, her fractured sense of self in SO many ways, what justifications she could possibly have for what she ends up doing. She’s horrible, and she’s hurt, and she can only count on herself; it’s all so cyclacle and being challenged in it sends her spiraling, and the mess it leaves behind is just…so satisfying to see her suffer in. To see her hold shreds of glass in her hands and piecing a mirror out of it until she’s almost what she wants to see in her reflection. God I love her.

Norman / the projectionist: I’m gonna be the first to say he needs to be adapted a bit differently when I write this story as original, but the appeal to when I wrote him in the fic is that godDAMMIT I love characters that make you wonder what their state of being and mind is. Is he entirely conscious? Is he entirely a creature of the now? Does he pace the halls because he only knows to react to the immediate, or does he actively choose to see nothing else? I love a good mystery, and honestly that’s not one I ever answered for myself.

Henry: Writing him and Francine as parallels…super good. Writing him as a young gay dad with hopes and dreams and a person who shares sensitivities and fears of being let down that I have, and making the simple but very symbolic act of him running away at the first major sign of instability cause problems for everyone he left behind? It’s very satisfying. He’s a symbol, too, for everything that was supposed to be right, where everything went wrong. It wasn’t his fault, of course, but other characters finding a person to blame gives them something to have to learn to overcome in order to be happy. Henry had to figure that out about Joey, after all.

Joey: Everything. His personality. How easy it is to visualize and write his physical reactions down to the way his eyes twitch and his wrist twirls. The depth of his love and entitlement and insecurity and how there’s no distinction between any of the shit that makes him great and that makes him so fucked up. 

And of course there’s the whole thing about him lying under the reader’s nose, hopefully in ways they don’t even expect.

If I don’t stop myself from talking about him at this point I never will so there you go.

The Ink Demon: Honestly everything with Norman except the added bonus of knowing exactly what that mfer is so I can write a twist ending about it. 

Boris, as a bonus: I’m in the minority of not caring terribly much for him as a canon character so I used him as a plot device only and only kind of feel mean about it so I might go to hell. Look at his face. He’s so cute and I done did him dirty.

#me writing the alice portion: move i'm gay and have a shopping cart of emotions #and then i go back and get two carts for francine and henry for the same reason #I MADE YOU WAIT BC I KNEW IT'D TAKE ME FOREVER TO WRITE #i...love so much talking about this stuff so anyone is always free to ask me for my opinions or for me to expand on certain things #i'm a spout of poetry and feelings and conspiracies and i WILL blow at any given opportunity #long post #hymns of struggle #batim au #sammy lawrence #alice angel #malice angel #joey drew #henry stein #batim oc #francine #hymns sammy #hymns alice #hymns henry #gingie #hymns norman #the projectionist #norman polk #batim fanfiction #tak talks #tak writes #wolfheart7snow #ask box #writing musings

[pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc]

Helpless - Jimmy Darling

pairing: jimmy darling x reader

warnings: major spoilers for freak show, amputation

———————————————————————

“I got a deal for you, kid.” The seven words that changed my life permanently.

You see, I’ve been a freak ever since birth. I was born with a rare condition called ectrodactyly, which meant that my normal five fingers were conjoined into two fingers and a thumb on each hand.

Unfortunately, being a ‘freak’ meant many things:

That I would never be accepted into society.

That I would be considered an oddity, an exhibit, something to gawk and laugh at.

And that I’ll never find love.

I never thought much about these things, accepting that they were just part of my life, until I met Jimmy Darling.

I wandered into sunny Jupiter one day and happened upon a small freak show, made up of many acts. One of those acts happened to be none other than Lobster Boy, son of Neptune, god of the sea. I saw him and thought, I’ve found it, I’ve finally found it.

I know, love at first sight, it’s a cliche. And the fact that we’re both freaks with the same condition is doubly cliche, but we had something special.

We formed a beautiful bond, both of us secretly wishing it would develop into something more. In time, I joined the show, combining my act with Jimmy’s as “The Glamourous Lobster Twins”. We started to do everything together, go everywhere together. Hell, we were practically Bette and Dot, joined at the hip.

He even took me to his secret “Tupperware Parties”, where he worked his second gig. Naturally, being a good friend and all, I wasn’t happy about his method of bringing in the bucks, but I had to support him regardless.

One day, the police showed up to camp, not to anyone’s surprise, seeing how often they showed up. They came to arrest Jimmy and I for the murder’s of the housewives from the Tupperware Party. Of course, I had no idea they had been killed, and I knew it wasn’t me or Jimmy, seeing as we left at the same time. But I knew I had to act fast, so I confessed.

“Officer, please keep Jimmy out of this. It was me, I killed those women.” I lied, holding my hands out to the man.

“Y/N, no, what are you doing?” Jimmy protested, pulling me back by my shoulder.

“Shhh, Jimmy, I’m keeping you safe. You need to be at home with all of your family right now, and I’m making sure of it.” I shushed him, cupping his cheek gently.

“But you’re my family, darlin’. Wherever you are is where I feel safe. I can’t see you go.” He cried out when the officer began handcuffing me.

“See you soon, Jimmy Darling.” He held my hand as the police walked me to the car. Little did I know, that would be the last time I’d ever be able to do that.

“What if I told you there was a way you could get out of here and see the freak show again?” Richard said through the bars of my cell.

“Oh please, Mr. Spencer, I’d do anything!” I exclaimed.

“You see, I know someone who works in a certain line of business that would pay handsomely to see you,” he paused, noting the confused expression on my face. “He deals in oddities, freaks, if you will. He makes money by showing the preserved remains of them to paying customers in a museum, and he has been dying to get his mitts on those mitts,” Richard gestured down to my hands.

“H-he wants my hands?” I questioned, more to myself than anyone else.

“Even just one of the conjoined fingers would do. That is, if you’re willing.” He suggested.

“I don’t know, is there anything else I could do to get out of here?” I asked hopefully.

“I don’t think so, hon, he seems pretty firm in what he wants, I don’t know if I could sway him.” Richard said.

“I’d have to think about it.” I said, deep in thought.

“The way I see it, you don’t have much time for thinkin’. You either do this, and get a good lawyer to defend you, or rot in here until a public defense gets your case. And trust me, that’ll do you more bad than good.” He paced outside of my cell.

I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to think. Would I really be willing to stoop as low as selling one of my own appendages to have a shot at getting out of here?

“You know, saying no is a hell of a lot better of an answer than silence. That’ll do you good in court, kid. Good luck.” He began to leave.

“Mr Spencer, wait!” I yelled, getting his attention. “I’ll do it, but just the one finger, right?”

“Of course.” Richard grinned devilishly. “Drink this.” He handed me a small bottle which I downed in a shot. Not even a minute later, I was retching up what was left of yesterday’s lunch into the grimy toilet bowl.

I was quickly escorted out of the jailhouse and into an ambulance, Mr Spencer in tow. They hooked me up to something, making me feel woozy and lightheaded.

“Just rest, Y/N, your procedure will be over in no time.” Was the last thing I heard before I blacked out.

I woke up, a searing pain in my head and both wrists. I groaned and tried to sit up, but my head was gently pushed back down.

“Wha-” I opened my eyes, seeing a blurred version of Jimmy. “Jimmy, where am I? Why does everything hurt?” I croaked out.

“You’re back at the freak show, darlin’.” Jimmy said, smiling weakly. “You- uh- you went to jail to save the rest of us, remember?”

“Yeah, of course I do.” My face screwed up in confusion when I saw tears streak down his face. “Jimmy, baby, why are you crying?”

His eyes looked everywhere except back into mine before they settled on my midsection. I looked down at myself, searching for any noticeable difference, when I noticed my arms were strapped down to the bed.

“What the-” my arms ached as I raised them up to see what was wrong.

My jaw dropped.

Richard had lied.

He didn’t take one of my fingers, he took both of my hands.

A strangled cry ripped from my throat as I stared at the bloody bandaged-up stumps where my hands should have been. The tears poured relentlessly down my cheeks, leaving clean streaks behind them.

“H-he lied, Jimmy! He p-promised he would g-get me out of there! He took m-my h-hands!” I sobbed.

“Oh Y/N, come here, doll.” He muttered, laying down on the bed next to me, laying his head on my chest and wrapping his arms around me. My arms were still strapped to the bed so I couldn’t hug him back, but i nuzzled my face into his neck.

“What am I gonna do? I can’t do anything anymore. I’m so stupid, it’s pathetic.” I sniffled, leaning my head back on the pillow and staring at the top of the tent.

“Hey, look at me.” Jimmy said sternly, gently grasping my jaw and turning my head to face him. “You, are not stupid. Spencer’s a con artist, he tricks people, that’s what he does. If I were in your situation, I would’ve made the same choice, too. I don’t blame you for it. No one does, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Jimmy. What did I ever do to deserve you?” I sniffed, blinking the tears from my eyes. I wanted to reach out to him, but I couldn’t move my arms.

“Here,” He reached over, unbuckling the straps that constrained me. I tried to stretch out my limbs, but a sharp, shooting pain pulsed through them, making my breath hitch. “Don’t move, darlin’. Just stay put for a bit. Let me make you feel good.”

His voice carried no venom or pity, as I feared it might. I didn’t want him to spend time with me only because I was helpless, but I now knew he wouldn’t.

He gingerly crawled onto the bed, straddling my waist. He placed his hands on my cheeks, lips gliding down to meet mine. I moaned into his mouth as his tongue tangled with mine. How did I ever think I would survive in prison without him?

I moved to wrap my hands around his neck as I normally would, but my arms ached and stung. I groaned again, this time not in pleasure, and Jimmy could tell.

“Did I hurt you, baby? I’m so sorry- we should stop, i shouldn’t have done that-”

“Jimmy, it’s okay. It was my fault, don’t blame yourself. I really liked it, actually.” My cheeks tinged pink. “Can we keep going?”

He nodded sweetly, resuming his careful ministrations. He didn’t make me beg, or tease me like he normally would, no. This was a whole new side of him, and I embraced it wholeheartedly.

———————————————————————

if there was a way i could avoid writing endings that would make me immensely happy

let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for my fics! also let me know if you want to be removed lmao

TAGLIST: @felloff-the-moon @dylisbae @gracebtw @imma-witch-bitch @exvanpeters @heavymetalover @totally-true @magicaljellydonut @cobainlover @polarluxray @fuckmedobrik

[illfoandillfie]

Rough Day

*This was requested by @bellacardoza16 who asked for kitten play + coming home from a bad day at work (actress) and Roger cheers you up*

Pairing: Roger x Fem!Reader 

Summery: Roger cheers you up after a rough day at work

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Kitten Play (including ears + collar), drinking (roger + reader), smoking (roger), dom!roger, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, orgasm control, and 1 (bad) pun based on a brand of cat food

Words: 4352

A/N: This was fun!! I haven’t written any hurt/comfort fics before but I enjoyed trying to capture that and also make it naturally flow into smut. Also haven’t written kitten play before but I think I have a new kink lmao - I did some research, watched a few videos on youtube and read some articles that explained kitten play, to try and get a better understanding of it, so I hope I’ve done it justice! And I hope this was the sort of thing you were looking for when you requested it!

Tagslist: @idontbelievethiss

Fuck, no keys. “FUCK!” You screamed as you desperately felt around yourself, checking all your pockets and your bag for the third time, trying to find a key that was clearly not there. Praying that Roger was home you started pounding on the door, trying to knock loud enough to be heard over the rain. “Rog! Rog are you in there?!” You yelled as you furiously knocked, your knuckles starting to sting. It took a full minute before the lock clicked and the handle turned, bringing you face to face with your, very apologetic, boyfriend. “Sorry love, I was making tea and didn’t hear you.” he said as he pulled you through the door. The fresh mug steaming by the sofa confirmed his story. “‘S alright. I’m the idiot who left my key in my other bag.” you said, taking a deep breath to try and steady your emotions. Roger took one look at your trembling lip and scooped you into a hug. You buried your face into his shoulder, releasing the sob that had been building all day. “Hey, hey, hey, what’s the matter?” Roger asked, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back as he held you. It took you a moment to stop the flow of tears, but once they were under control you took a step back, wiping the mascara from under your eyes as you replied. “I’ve had the worst fucking day. Nothing went right. I couldn’t do anything right.” Roger’s fingers replaced yours, wiping fresh tears from your face. He pressed his lips to your temple and resumed rubbing your back as you leaned back into his shoulder. “Oh love, it’s alright now, I’ve got ya.” He let you cry into his shirt, whispering comforting things into your hair, until you were ready to stop. “Sorry,” you pulled away from him, but he grabbed your wrist, stopping you from getting too far. He placed his fingers under your chin and tilted your head up till he was looking in your watery eyes. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. Fuck, you’ve listened to me bitch about the band so many times I’ve lost count.” “I got mascara and snot all over your shirt,” “Okay, that’s one apology I’ll accept,” he said with a smile, “Why don’t you go wash your face and I’ll make you a cuppa.” You nodded and he laid another kiss to your temple before he let go of your wrist.

When you reached the bathroom you took a moment to examine your reflection in the mirror - eyes red and puffy, makeup smudged and running down your cheeks, lip still trembling a little. You ran a sink of cold water, dipped the corner of a flannel into it and began rinsing your face, trying to keep your breathing calm and steady. Finally, you felt okay enough to leave the bathroom, taking a box of tissues with you just in case. Roger was waiting for you in the lounge room, wearing a fresh shirt, and holding his mug of tea. Yours was on the coffee table, a swirl of steam rising into the air.

“You wanna talk about it?” Roger asked tentatively as you settled on the sofa next to him, back leaning against the arm of the chair, legs crossed under you, cradling your mug. Roger shifted so he was facing you, and brought his hand to rest on your knee, his thumb rubbing over your skin. You tapped your nails anxiously along the mug as you blew on it before taking a sip. “It was just a really rough day is all Rog,” you finally said, playing for time by drinking more of your tea. Roger remained silent, waiting for you to continue. You let out a slow breath, your eyes focused on Roger’s thumb as you continued. “There must have been an accident or something this morning because the road was closed and I had to go round the long way which meant I was an hour late to set which meant Mike, the director, was pissed off at me all day cause I put us behind schedule. He kept picking apart everything I did, giving me passive aggressive notes on my acting, which I could’ve handled except then I overheard him badmouthing me to some people and it completely threw me. So much so that I kept forgetting lines and messing up for real. Tim tried to stick up for me. He was with me when I overheard Mike and he tried to call Mike out for being such a fucking arsehole. Mike, in front of everyone, told him not to bother defending a ‘talentless, brainless bimbo’ who was only hired because of the way ‘her tits bounce in a tight top’.”  

Your voice got quieter as you spoke but Roger’s grip on your knee got tighter. You choked out the last words, tears stinging your eyes again, and Roger stood up abruptly, fist clenched by his side as he began pacing.   “Rog,” You said quietly, wiping your eyes on a tissue.   “When I get my hands on him,” He was shaking with anger, his hand holding his mug so hard his knuckles were turning white. “Rog, please,” your voice cracked as another wave of tears hit you. He turned back to face you, looking ready to break something, but his demeanour softened when his eyes met yours. “Shit, love, ‘m sorry,” He said placing the mug on the table as he dropped to the carpet in front of you, grabbing your hand and pressing his lips to your knuckles, “what a fucking wanker. I hope Tim knocked his fucking teeth in.” “He would’ve if I hadn’t stopped him,” you said with a small, watery laugh. “Should’ve let him,” “I was tempted to, but Tim would’ve been fired and Mike isn’t worth that.” “Well I hope someone gives him a good hard kick up the arse.” “Wouldn’t be surprised. He’s been a wanker from day one.” Roger tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering on your cheek. “I’m sorry he said those things about you.” “It’s okay,” “No, it’s not. They aren’t true. You’re an incredible actress. I’ve watched you work and you are brilliant. Maybe I’m a little biased, but the way people were raving about your performance in Twelfth Night last year I don’t think it’s just me who thinks you’re talented. And you’re smart as a whip too! Y’know I only like smart girls, and I love you more than anyone. It’s one thing for Mike,” he spit the name like it was poison, “to be a knob, but he’s also just flat out wrong. Knowing that you have to deal with this shit at your job makes me want to break things.” “Thank you,” you said, leaning into Roger’s touch, “I know he’s wrong and he was in a filthy mood all day and I shouldn’t let him get to me. It’s not the first time he’s done something like this. A few weeks ago he made poor Annie cry when she messed up his coffee. Just wasn’t expecting it when I got up this morning y’know, having my biggest insecurities publicly attacked.” “God, I want to kill him for making you feel like this.” “Breath, Rog,” you said pressing your nose to his, “he’s a pathetic worm who gets off on making girls cry. Nothing to go to jail over.” Roger laughed, “There you go again, being smart. Proves you’re not a ‘brainless bimbo’, doesn’t it?” You nodded, giving Roger a small smile, “He was right about one thing though.” Roger looked at you, disbelief clouding his eyes as he waited for you to continue, “My tits do look good in a tight top”. Roger sighed with relief as you broke out into a laugh. He shook his head and pushed you playfully into the back of the couch. “Alright, you got me,” He said as he shifted off the floor, flopping down next to you, “good to know your sense of humour is still intact. You feel alright though?” You nodded. “I'm going to have to bake Tim a cake or something, to say thanks.” “Y/N, if you don’t then I will. I’m glad someone there has my girl’s back.” “Later though. When I don’t feel so drained.” “Why don’t you go have a warm bath and relax for a bit? I’ll bring you a glass of wine.” You shook your head, “Actually, I had something else in mind,” You looked down at Roger’s hand, reaching out to play with his fingers, not entirely sure why asking for this was making you so nervous, “Can I have my collar, please?” You bit your lip, waiting. “Your collar?” Roger repeated. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting that. “Yes.” Your eyes stayed glued to where your hands were connected, even as you tried to explain yourself, “Today was hard, Rog. I spent all day trying to stay in control. With traffic, with the director. I had to control Tim so he wouldn’t beat Mike to a pulp even though I wanted to throw a punch myself. I had to fight back my own emotions so I could finish the work, because there have been people counting on me and looking up to me all day. I need someone else to take control for a little while. I just want to be looked after for a night.” You raised your eyes as you finished speaking, watching as Roger absorbed your confession.   "Of course, love. Anything to make you feel better. Why don’t you go and get changed and then bring your collar out to me, okay?” “Thank you,” you said softly, leaving an equally soft kiss on his lips before you stood and headed to your bedroom.

Once you were in your room you began undressing, tugging your dress over your head and removing your bra before slipping into your black silk nightgown. You fingered the decorative lace around the low-cut neckline, it made you feel regal. You sighed, already feeling more relaxed than you had all day. You moved over to the mirror and began reapplying your eyeliner in an exaggerated wing, making the line thick and bold. You followed it with a generous brush of mascara and a quick swipe of dark red to your lips. You brushed your hair out until it was soft and free of tangles, and then slipped on a delicate black alice band with two pointy ears. Finally, you opened the draw on your bedside table and removed your collar – a black velvet choker – running your thumbs over the material. Roger had given you this choker as gift, but you didn’t start using it as a collar until later. You liked its subtlety. You’d lost count of the number of times you’d worn it to parties and events you were attending solo. It made you feel safe and loved and less anxious when Roger couldn’t be there. You took one last look in the mirror, smoothing out your nightgown, before leaving the room.

As your padded barefoot down the hall, you heard music growing louder with every step. Pausing for a moment in the doorway, you took in the scene – Roger standing with his back to you, flipping through a box of records, foot tapping ever so slightly as he kept time with the music. A glass was resting beside him, two fingers of whisky lining the bottom, and a scent of smoke tinged the air, a cigarette freshly stubbed out in an ashtray. You didn’t recognise the album he’d put on but it was soft and sweet, the kind of music you could easily slow dance to. “You should be crawling, kitten,” his voice interrupted your thoughts, a smile instantly forming on your face at the last word. Nothing else in the world made you feel the same way that hearing the word kitten roll off Roger’s tongue made you feel. “Sorry Roger,” you said as you quickly dropped to your hands and knees. You placed one side of the chain of the choker in your mouth and began crawling towards him, your nails gently clacking on the floorboards.  When you reached him, you settled on your knees, your bum resting on your heels and your hands in your lap. The choker dangled from your mouth, swinging slightly from the motion of your movement. Roger didn’t so much as look at you, his attention remaining on his records as he pulled one from the box, examined the back cover and then put it back. Your knees were starting to get a little sore from the hard floor but you remained, looking up at Roger from your position at his feet. His hand moved and your heart jumped but he only picked up the glass and took a sip before putting it back down. Finally, he looked down at you. “Alright kitten, you’ve been very patient,” He said as he bent down, holding his hand under your mouth. You let the choker drop onto his palm.   “Sit up nice and tall for me,” You pushed up onto your knees, keeping your back as straight as you could, as Roger walked behind you. He ran his fingers through your hair, gently pushing it over your shoulder before he looped the choker around your neck and fastened it at the back. His hand remained on your neck as he walked around to face you, thumb brushing over the soft velvet, sending a slight shiver down your spine, and a heat pooling in your stomach.   “Better?” “Much,” you nodded and released a breath it felt like you’d been holding all day. “Good,” He said, kissing the top of your head.  

Roger picked up his drink before seating himself on the couch, legs stretched out so his feet rested on the coffee table.   “Come here kitten,” he tapped the seat next to him and you eagerly crawled over to join him, climbing up onto the couch. He took another sip of his drink as you got comfortable next to him, the couch much softer on your knees than the floor had been. “Does kitten want a drink?” He asked tapping his finger against the glass. You nodded, eyeing the brown liquid. Roger held the glass out to you, tilting it so the whisky ran towards the brim. You stuck your tongue into the glass, lapping at the drink. You licked your lips, savouring the rich and faintly smoky flavour.   “Have a proper sip, love,” Roger laughed, offering you the glass once more. You gladly took him up on the offer, enjoying the burn of the alcohol in your throat. He took the glass back, downing the last of the drink before standing up to get a refill. You repositioned yourself, letting your body slip to the side, your legs folded up under you as you leaned into the back of the couch, watching Roger walk around the room. When he returned, he had a fresh drink in one hand, the ashtray and a pack of smokes in the other, and a magazine rolled up under his arm. He sat back down, feet flying straight back to the coffee table as he sat his items on the arm of the chair. “Does kitten wanna cuddle up here?” he asked, patting his thigh. You nodded and shuffled closer.

Lying, curled up on your side, with your head in Roger’s lap, you finally felt like you could put your day behind you. You watched Roger’s foot bounce along in time with the music, his fingers running through the hair around your scalp over and over, and purred at the sensation. Your breath was steady and deep as you relaxed into him. The occasional plume of smoke spreading slowly through the room indicated Roger had lit another cigarette and you could hear the pages of the magazine turning as you lay there, losing track of time. Every time you moved or swallowed you became aware of the choker, your collar, and felt a rush of gratitude and love in your chest.   “Rog?” You said softly from his lap. “What is it kitten? You okay?” “I love you,” “I love you too,” You relaxed into him again, settling back into your comfortable silence. Your mind remained on Roger as you stared out across the room, suddenly very aware of where your head was positioned. The heat you’d felt as he’d fastened your collar sparked to life and you bit your lip.

You shifted slightly, snuggling further into Roger’s lap, and felt him pause. After a moment his fingers resumed their movements on your head. You waited a little before doing it again. Once more Roger stilled. From your position on his lap you could feel him getting harder every time you moved. Your own desire was growing as you lay there, pressed into his lap. “What ya reading, Rog?”   He cleared his throat before he answered, "A magazine.” “What’s it about?” “Cars and stuff,” You rolled onto your back, knees in the air and feet flat on the couch, and looked up at him, “That what’s got you so excited?” “You noticed that, did you kitten?” “Kind of hard not to,”   “HA HA,” he said poking his tongue out at you, “just ignore it kitten, put your head here instead.” He tapped his stomach. You continued to look up at Roger, pouting slightly. “Y’know I’m not expecting anything like that. Tonight is all about making you feel happy and loved.” He smiled softly at you, playing with a strand of your hair. “I think sucking your dick would make me happy though,” you said playfully. “Well, can’t argue with that can I kitten?” Roger laughed as he leaned down, bringing his mouth to yours. He still held the strand of hair he’d been playing with, tugging on it slightly, as his other hand roamed up your leg. He pushed your knees apart as his hand moved steadily higher, slipping underneath the hem of your night gown and tickling your inner thigh. Small noises fell from your mouth to be swallowed by his as his fingers traced over your damp underwear. “My kitten’s feeling frisky, is she?” he asked as he toyed with the leg of your underpants. “Y’know that joke gets less funny every time you say it,” You jerked slightly as he pinched your bum, tutting at your response. “That was very cheeky, kitten.” “Sorry Roger,”  His fingers found their place over your underwear again, running up and down teasingly. “Who’s in control kitten?” “You are,” “Are you gonna be a good kitten and do what I say? Or are you gonna be cheeky?” He pinched your bum a second time. “A good kitten, I’ll be good,” you whimpered as he pushed your undies to the side and ran two fingers slowly up your slit, quickly becoming coated in your wetness.   “Good girl.” He removed his fingers from you, pushing them into your open mouth instead. He let you suck on them for a moment before he continued speaking, “Now I believe you said something about sucking me off. Best get started kitten.”

You rolled onto your hands and knees, as Roger moved to stub out his cigarette. You let your chest and arms drop to the couch, your bum pressing high into the air. You stayed like that for a moment, relishing the stretch in your back, until Roger’s voice interrupted you. “As cute as you look right now, I thought I gave you an instruction.” You raised yourself out of the stretch and positioned your head over his lap. His feet had dropped to the floor and his legs were spread slightly. Leaning down you began trailing kisses over the visible bulge in his pants, running your lips and tongue softly over his jeans. Roger laced his fingers into your hair and tugged, a clear message for you to get a move on. You took the hint, undoing his fly and tugging his jeans down until his hard cock sprang free. Looking up, you flashed him a quick smile before you took his tip into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around his head, delighted by the soft groan he made in response. Wrapping your hand around the base of his cock you withdrew your mouth to summon as much spit as you could muster. You let it fall from your lips in a long string before lowering yourself back down, taking more of him this time. You bobbed up and down, his tip hitting the roof of your mouth over and over, as you stroked and squeezed his base. You hand and mouth worked in tandem, picking up speed as Roger grunted above you. You were completely focused on drawing more noises from him, loving being able to please him like this. He had one hand tangled in your hair, tugging it every time you dragged your tongue along his length or paused to lick around his sensitive tip, his other hand was roaming over you, running up and down the back of your legs, occasionally squeezing your bum. “Fuck, kitten, you’re so-o good at this,” He gasped out as you hollowed your cheeks, “Th-that pretty little mouth was made to suck cock.” You moaned around him as spanked you suddenly, only encouraging him to do it again. “Oh, kitten – fuck – kitten likes that,” he growled as he continued to spank you. You sunk down, taking him further, pushing back into his hand, “you gonna be good and swallow for me?” You bobbed up and down faster, pulling more groans and grunts from Roger as his grip on your hair and thigh got tighter. “So eager for my cum, aren’t you kitten,” you moaned again, pulling back to swirl your tongue around the head of his cock. That was enough to send him over the edge, filling your mouth with his sticky cum. You swallowed and licked your lips before licking Roger’s cock clean. When you were sure you’d gotten every last drop you leaned back, resting your bum, now stinging slightly, on your heels again.  

Roger had his eyes closed, leaning his head on the back of the couch, as his breathing returned to normal. You leaned your head next to his, watching him come down. He slowly blinked his eyes open, immediately meeting yours. “Fuck,” he breathed out softly and you giggled, “no, really. Fuck. You are ridiculously good at that.” He reached out for you, pulling you over his lap, one knee on either side of his legs. You melted at his praise, leaning into his shoulder and beaming. His hand once more found its way to your thigh, slipping under your night gown again and drifting steadily higher. “Well what d’ya know,” he said as his fingers slipped into your underwear again, “kitten likes sucking dick and being spanked. Makes her all wet.” He teased your entrance, pushing one finger in and drawing it out again slowly making you whine into his shoulder. “What d’ya want kitten?” “I want you to make me cum, please,” You whined as he continued to slowly work his finger in and out of you. “I’ll make you cum, but you wait till I say you can. Is that clear, kitten?” “Y-yes,” you moaned as he pushed a second finger into you, his thumb making small circles on your clit, building your desire. It didn’t take long before you were a desperate mess, dripping as he continued to finger you slowly, making you whine and moan with every movement. He added a third finger before he began to speed up his thusts, his thumb still rubbing your clit. “Please,” you whined as his fingers pumped into you. “Not yet kitten.” You bit down on his shoulder as his other hand laid another slap on your bum, making you jolt so his fingers hit you at a slightly different angle.   “Please, Roger please,” your eyes were screwed shut, tears leaking from them. “You’re not in control here, kitten, so stop begging. You cum when I say so.” You wailed into his shoulder as he continued to torment you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. He was relentless, but you were determined to obey, doing everything you could to hold off your orgasm. Finally, you were rewarded.” “Alright, kitten, I’m gonna count down from five and when I get to zero you can cum okay?” You nodded, incapable of speaking for fear of falling apart. “Five.”   His thumb rubbed your clit faster and your legs began to tremble. “Four.”   You grabbed onto his shirt, balling it up in your fist. “Three.”   Fresh tears ran down your cheeks at the effort to hold off just a little longer. “Two.”   Your breath was coming in short gasps. “One.”   You clenched around his fingers, barely holding on. “Zero, cum for me kitten.”   You screamed into his shoulder as you were finally allowed to reached your peak, legs shaking as he continued pumping his fingers into you.   “Good girl, doing so well kitten,” Roger’s voice sounded far away as you rode out your orgasm for what felt like hours, twitching as you became over sensitive.

Roger wrapped his arms around you as you collapsed into him, whispering praise in between pressing kisses to your temple and forehead. You shook slightly as he held you, breathing hard. “Fuck,” you said as you blinked open your eyes. Roger chuckled against your hair. “No, really. Fuck.” Your hands shook slightly as you stopped clutching Roger’s shirt, pushing yourself up so you could slip off his lap. “Where do you think you’re going, kitten?” He grabbed your waist, holding you on his lap. One hand reached up to brush your damp hair behind your ear, “Pretty sure I’m still in control, so you’re going to stay here and cuddle for a while. Gotta make sure my girl feels happy and loved.” “I do, Rog,” you sighed contentedly, falling back against his chest and closing your eyes, “I really, truly do.”  

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #roger taylor imagine #queen smut #my fic #(i cannot believe i can write a full 4k words about roger fucking taylor #past me would never believe you if you told her lmao)

[all-of-the-imagines-for-eve]

Slip ~ Jacob (part 4)(final)

A/n: ahhhh yes here we go the ending! Whoo! I’m just going to keep doing twilight if y’all don’t request. I have a TRUCK LOAD lined up too lmao

Word Count: 4367

MASTERLIST

Slip, slip, slip through your hands. Oh, it's gonna slip, slip, slip through your- slip, slip, slip through your hands.

I was nervous.

Right before this end battle with the newborns, it had finally been revealed that Jacob hadn't actually imprinted on me. Sam was FURIOUS, and no amount of me trying to intervene could get anyone to calm down. It didn't matter that I was human- Sam especially was very willing to tear through me to get to Jacob. I even got to finally see Paul's scary side.

Right before all shit hit the fan, Everyone was pissed at Jake, and I was worried. I was worried their anger would distract them. Drive a rift between them. Right when they needed to be unified the most, coming together to keep each other safe and having each other’s back, this had happened. It had been last night that started the fallout. We had been together, trying to keep our voices down as he snuck in my room but struggling because it was late and we were both tired, and even Jake with his boosted coordination ability kept bumping into things. We ended up curling together in my bed, whispering about the most random things had he played with my hair, and I traced random patterns against the skin of his bare chest. Finally, he whispered, “I don’t know if, like, I’ll imprint on anyone,” he whispered. “But I don’t want to, and I don’t care. You know? Like I love you so much, and I feel like I’m even luckier that we got to have this natural kind of love and not have anything forced on us. Like we get to make our own choices, you know?”

My smile had been sweet. “I love you too.” He had kissed me, and it was a perfect kiss, and I loved it and him and ugh- what a perfect moment! When he left, even later than when he had come, I whispered, “At least we know that we chose this. WE made this work.” He kissed me again and disappeared into the night, shifting and running into the night to head home. He had wanted a few more moments to see me before the big style today because he had to go up the mountain with Bella and Edward and if anything happened - though I was viciously refusing to accept the idea of even a maybe - he wanted to say he loved me. When I had come to Emily’s house this morning, they told me that Jake’s mind had been our night together and everyone knew that he hadn’t imprinted, my good feelings and nervousness gave way to pure terror. They came back one last time as a pack to drop off Kim, and when they saw me, there were snarls and scoffs asking why I was here, and Jake had to all but put himself between his pack and me - and then when it got too rough I would have to reverse the roles - but only the actual imprints could get them to calm down. Once Sam was calm, he forced everyone else to back up since I was in harm’s way and I wasn’t moving.

And now they were gone, and I was in the backyard, pacing and wringing my wrists and trying not to have a panic attack as the genuine fear of the maybe I had been avoiding slipped into my head. Emily finally came out, her eyes heavy with worry. Probably for the boys and me alike. “Y/n, please come inside.” I looked at her but didn’t stop moving. “You can pace inside, I just don’t want you outside. Please? You’re worried, and I don’t want you to do something... irrational.”

My pacing stopped. “It’ll be my fault if he dies.” I ran my fingers through my hair, tugging at my roots. My face twisted up as Emily approached me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and guiding me inside. “It’ll be both of our faults, but I’ll have to live with it. We- We knew they would have to find out eventually, but couldn’t it have been just a few days later?”

Emily sat me down on one of the couches. “Y/n, it is NOT your fault if anything happens. It’s not either of your faults. If those boys slip up and don’t have Jake’s back, it is their own fault, because you know that even though they threatened to go through you to get to him and we're getting seriously close to making that a reality, he’ll still have theirs. And maybe he didn’t imprint, but he does love you. And you love him, I can see it clear as day.”

Looking up, eyes watering, I met her eyes. “Emily... I’m scared. Not just for Jake, for all of them. This was such bad timing.”

She sighed. “I know.” Her eyes closed for a second and her face flickered with fear and pain, but then she cleared it to put back on that face of strength and calm. It was refreshing to see her not always be strong, though. A relief, to know it wasn’t just me that was completely losing my shit. “We all are,” she added. “But it’ll be-“

Before she could even finish the calming idea, the front door flew open and Quil stumbled in, eyes wide with guilt and fear. “Jake got hurt.”

I was frozen for a second too long, unable to deal with the sudden pain that at first slowly moved through my body and then suddenly flared. I stood, running to him. “Take me to him.” Quil seemed surprised by my earnest and moved back, obeying my authority even though he didn’t have to. Did these think I didn’t love Jake? Did they for a second believe that I didn’t care just as much as they did or an imprint would merely because we were magically connected by some force that wasn’t our own choice? Our own decision was stronger than that. No offense to those who had imprinted, but I think that the time and energy we took to fight for each other and the free choice we had to challenge what we were told and make our own path might be an even stronger bond than that of an imprint and imprinted. I didn’t voice this, though, as I drove us to Jake’s house, pushing the limit a little too much.

I raced into the house the second the car was parked, not even thinking to turn it off or grab the keys - thank you Quil for understanding my panic and doing it for me - before I was barging inside and shoving my way aggressively through the pack boys to get to Jake’s room.

Sam caught my arm. “Why are you here?”

Facing him with my full anger, unable to hold anything back in my panic, I seethed, “Wouldn’t Emily be here if it was you? Because she loves you? Not because she’s your imprint and HAS to be here, but because she LOVES YOU?” Sam let go of my arm in shock. “Same as I love Jake? Same as he loves me? Or is it only when you imprint that you can be in actual, real, adult, long term LOVE, Sam?” The room went dead silent and my fiery gaze met each of the boy’s, the trapped tears blurring my vision. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” I said finally, my voice calmer now that I’d gotten my anger out and shaky as my emotions hit. Shaking it. Cracking it. Breaking it. “I have to make sure my boyfriend isn’t dead.” I moved around Paul who had been blocking my way before but was just as frozen in shock as the others now, going into Jake’s room quietly and softly.

Carlisle Cullen sat on a chair, bent over Jake. “Hi,” I greeted softly, my heart racing as I pushed myself into the room further by not all of the way. “I... I was wondering if I could just- I’ll keep quiet.”

Carlisle was much warmer and softer than I had seen since the night before from Jake, which was ironic considering how literally much colder he was than everyone else I had interacted with thus far. “Come in,” he affirmed, getting out of the chair. “You can sit on this. I don’t need it.” I nodded and took the seat moving it towards Jake’s head and taking his hand. He breathed shallowly and had his eyes closed. I didn’t want to move him so I bent over, pressing my lips against his knuckles. “Did you know that Jasper and Alice aren’t True Mates?” I looked at him. “That’s the equivalent of an imprint for the wolves. Vampires have True Mates.” He got to work, feeling around Jacob’s chest- the boy had probably gotten his ribs broken. “At first we were all weird about it, because after all, Esme was my True Mate and Emmet’s was Rosalee’s, which is why we turned them when they were dying. Alice found Jasper, both of them turned by someone other than me. They found each other I dare say.” He finally looked at me, smiling. “I don’t know what those boys out there think, but I know that without any kind of supernatural guidance, the love you and Jacob have for each other is very real.”

I smiled. “You know they can hear you, right?”

He looked back at Jake and I swore that his fatherly, warm smile turned into the cockiest smirk I’d ever seen on someone’s face. “I know.” Okay, I officially liked ONE vampire. The others were chill but Carlisle was my friend. As if he could sense my thought, he looked over and winked and I chuckled, the tension in the room lifting instantly. “He’ll be fine by the way,” Carlisle reassured. “Just got a few of his ribs broken. I nodded, but the words took all of the energy out of me. Being so angry and panicked had completely drained me, leaving me with absolutely nothing else to keep me running and awake. My eyelids drooped and I smiled at Jake. My boyfriend. I hadn’t used the official title yet. It was kinda nice...

When I lay my head on the bed next to Jake’s to relax, not even a second passed before I fell right to sleep.

Oh, it's gonna slip, slip, slip through your- slip, slip, slip through your hands. Oh, it's gonna slip, slip, slip through your... slip, slip, slip through your hands...

It started with Carlisle, but I’m assuming most things did.

Next, it was actually Edward, to my surprise. At the wedding, I found myself interacting with Edward a lot more than I thought I would. Jake and Bella kept cracking jokes and teasing each other and insulting people quietly in a corner in a joking way and Edward and I sat back as he whispered in my ear what they were saying, making us laugh just as they did. It seemed after the little moment between us in the woods what seemed forever ago, we’d exchanged smiles or said hello and just in general exchanged a lot of pleasantries. Carlisle may have been the first Cullen I considered a friend, but Edward was a close second. “It’ just a shame I’m already dating Jacob, and you’re already with Bella,” I remarked. “We could have had SO much fun trying to set each other up!”

Already being in cue with what I was thinking - stupid mind reader - he laughed, nodding. “I do not at all doubt that. I may read minds, but you have a way with people that is genuinely astonishing.” We laughed again, going on a full conversational tangent about the trouble we could have gotten into if we had been friends sooner. And, boy, did I wish that we had had that chance...

Alice came over, but I was already so at ease with the idea of being friends with the Cullens that she slipped right in. The banter between her and Edward cracked me up. “You look absolutely lovely by the way,” she remarked as they calmed down.

Beaming and blushing, I subconsciously ran my hands against the soft material of the dress I wore. “Jake showed up at my house in a dress shirt and slacks, and I laughed because I knew he was never a suit kinda guy. Made me tie his tie for him.” I rolled my eyes. “He had we looked perfect though, with my simple dress and his lack of a suit jacket that Bella had complained about nonstop. I thought it fitted though.” I flinched as I realized I’d gone on a rant instead of thanking her. “Thank you for noticing.”

Alice rose a perfect eyebrow. “So you’re going to be trouble just like Bella then.” I snorted, tapping my heels together. I was wearing flats and a long, black dress that had no pattern or anything that stood out except the strings on the back that crossed over my otherwise bare skin, closing into the skirt at my waist. My sleeves were long. Simple but pretty. I shrugged, my blush worsening as I fiddled with my fingers. “And you’re not getting any better by hanging out with a bunch of boys,” she teased, her eyes finding the wolf pack boys and then Jake with Bella, Carlisle with Esme, and then finally Edward.

“I’m hanging out with you right now,” I pointed out. “And Bella and I are pretty chill, actually.” Alice seemed unimpressed, which made me and Edward laugh again.

Jasper moved over a few moments later, just as I was debating on whether Alice and I would be friends or not, and stole third place with a simple comment. “You two look like you’re getting into trouble... may I join? I could always use a bit of fun.” He smiled, and Edward and I exchanged shit-eating grins.

“Hell yeah,” I affirmed. Alice rolled her eyes, but her smile gave her away. She left when Bella called her, and I let out a breath, relieved. “She’s trying to turn me into a girly girl, what do I do?”

“Resist,” Edward sighed hopelessly. “She won’t ever stop.”

When the dancing started, Jake and Edward switched places as they each came to ask their person to dance. Jake left a kiss on my cheek as he wrapped an arm around my waist, tugging me toward the floor. We ended our night with our chests and foreheads pressed together, his arms around my waist and mine around his neck. “I love you,” I whispered.

He smiled. “I love you too.” He looked around the room. “And one day...” His eyes met mine and my insides warmed up and hummed even though he didn’t continue his decoration. He didn’t need to. I didn’t have to be Edward to know what he was thinking.

-

Things never really normalized with the pack. There was always a separation between me and them, especially now that they knew that Jacob had broken the Alpha’s rules and continued to push Sam’s control over him every day. When Jake snapped and went on his own after Bella came home, pregnant of all things, it got really bad. I was sitting outside with Jake when Seth came. “Hey.” He smiled at me and Jake exactly the same and I stayed quiet at their back and forth interactions. But when Jake accepted Seth and Seth sat on the other side of me, talking to me as if there had never been any kind of tension or awkwardness between us, I realized that not everyone in the pack felt the same Sam and the others did.

So now I had Edward, Jasper, and Seth. Hm, maybe Alice had a point with the being friend with only boys thing...

When Emmet became my next friend, I knew it was terrible.

I was pacing, unsure what to do with myself as everyone stressed about Bella and Jake withdrew from me to be an alpha and a worried best friend at the same time. I wasn’t mad, but on my own, my own stress settled and grew. Emmet offered to show me the tops of the trees. “It’s pretty cool,” he mused. His eyes met mine. “And everyone’s worried about you as the only normal human here.” I smiled weakly, and he grinned. “I figured, I’m antsy to do something too, and Bella’s seen the crazy things we can do, why not you?” So, in the middle of stress and anxiety and high pressures and Bella’s less possible death (still dooming, but the blood was helping with her not dying possibility), Emmett took me on a piggyback ride as he jumped from treetop to treetop of like a flying squirrel.

When Leah joined, I was the only person to get her to eat anything. I took two sandwiches outside as she kept watch, leaving Seth to keep the mood as light as sanely possible. “You can eat this,” I said, holding up one sandwich as I bit into the other. “Or I can eat them both and you can go hungry. Again.” There was a pause as she glared at me. “I made it myself. With my normal human hands.” There was only a slight pause before he gingerly took it out of my hand and bit into it after unwrapping it. I smiled. “Is it good?” She looked at me and then slowly nodded. The awkwardness broke and I wouldn’t say we were friends, but we were on good terms.

Leah was my second female friend made, alongside Bella. Bella, Leah, Seth, Edward, Emmet, and Jasper. What a weirdly fitting group I was accumulating.

All good feelings flew out of the window when the baby was born. A girl, apparently. So then Renesme. Maybe it should have been cheered as a new life came into the world... but with the new life also came the loss of Bella’s life. I knew the second Jacob ran out, tears streaming down his face. He rammed into me and had to catch me because I was human and he was not. But I held onto him once I was stabilized, holding him close to me and closing my own eyes tightly. Seth moved to Leah, their choosers brushing and their faces equally twisted with pain.

When Sam’s pack showed up, I had just gotten done convincing Jacob that killing Renesme was off the table and that after all we'd done, we couldn’t turn our backs and give up now. “She’s all we have left of Bella, and if she was here, you KNOW Bella would demand we protect her. It’s not her fault, Jake. It’s not her fault.”

“Go inside,” he told me slowly, pulling away from me as he wiped his face dry. “I need you safe as long as possible.” I nodded, moving inside to warn everyone that the wolf pack was here.

The Cullens, obviously already in the know as they moved around Rosalee, who held the baby, finally listened to me when Leah’s howl cut the rough the night, leaving me and Rose alone. “You have to give her to me,” I said. “They’ll hesitate before attacking if I’m holding her at the very least, and I can’t help out there. They need as many hands as they can get. They’ll die, Rose. And then so will Renesme.” My face twisted. “I love Bella so much. And I know she would want this baby safe. So, I want her safe too. I promise you she’s as safe with me as she is you.” Rose scanned my face and then nodded as another scream came out, handing me the baby and then disappearing with a whip of wind pushing against me. I tucked Renesme against me, bouncing her very softly as I soothed even though she wasn’t crying. It just felt like the right thing to do.

It was startling how... adult she looked. It looked wrong on a baby’s face. Like she understood me even though she couldn’t speak or know that there was a correlation between an object and the sound I made when I was referring to it.

My musing was cut short when Embry appeared int he room, shirtless but wearing short, his hands in the air and his eyes wide. I tensed, but he didn’t approach. “I’m not here to hurt her. I won’t even ask to hold her, you have no reason to trust me. I just want to see her. Is she... what’s she like?” There was a battle going on behind his eyes that was even stronger than the one raging outside. “I want to see if she’s worth fighting for.” Quil appeared in the shadows behind Embry. “We both do.” I pursed my lips and then nodded.

“You listen to everything I say though. Try and kill this baby and you will be taking me down in the process.” They both nodded, coming forth slowly. They moved in front of me, stilling when I said they were close enough. I moved my body so they could see her face. “No tricks,” I warned quietly. They were too busy looking at the baby, though.

“She looks so harmless,” Quil finally whispered. “And small.”

I shifted, and their eyes found mine. “She’s just a baby. Women die in childbirth all the time. This isn’t different just because it’s supernatural involved.”

Embry smiled a bit. “Just like how your love with Jake is just as real and as strong as the imprint bond.” He wasn’t mocking or teasing or rolling his eyes. He was letting me know he agreed. My eyes watered and I nodded, smiling more shakily and softer than I ever had in my life. “We won’t let him get hurt, Y/n.” He placed a hand on my shoulder. “We’ll be right back.” Quil nodded, wearing the same smile Embry was, and then they both left. It was an amazing relief to know that there were two more on our side and two less on Sam’s. And I hoped with all of my power that they would all come home safe. I can’t imagine how much pain it would cause Emily and Kim, who had been so caring and nice to me. How much it would cause so much pain to so many people I cared about...

When the battle ended, Leah had a broken leg, Seth was out cold, and Emmett was missing an arm. Fun fact that I didn’t want to know though: Apparently, all you have to do with vampires is wait for the pieces to come together again and they’re excellent! That’s why you rip them apart and then burn the parts. I made them do it in another room.

Sam’s pack was all either out cold or tied up and so thanked the heavens that no one was dead. Paul had a broken nose, and several of the wolves had broken legs or ribs or arms, but they were all alive.

I showed Renesme to them one by one, explaining all I had experienced and using all the reasoning I had on Jake and Embry and Quil, covering again and again why everyone should NOT kill this child. A new wolf whose name I didn’t know was the only one I convinced. We kept them tied up, and the baby guarded until Bella’s healing process occurred. Turns out she’s not dead. I had never cried harder in stronger relief than I did when I heard the news, having to give Renesme to Rose so I could cling to Jake, shaking violently as sobs shook me to my core.

When Bella woke up, she took her child and approached the wolves who were still tied up. None of them could meet the eyes of a mother staring down those who had tried to kill her child for any reason. Mainly because the idea had been Renesme was born, and Bella had died because of it.

After the fiasco calmed down, Jake and I sat in the living room with Renesme, laughing and playing with her. She growing crazy fast and it astounded me. She began to call us Aunt, and Uncle and it made us grin. Jake was like a brother to Bella, which made sense. I guess I was Bella’s sister in law.

“Rosalee’s actually pretty cool,” Jacob added as we talked about this life we were growing accustomed to but never expected. “She’s a mechanic too. And with Leah’s hobby of wood carving picking up, the three of us actually... get along.” I laughed at his bewildered expression. “It’s kind of awesome actually.” My eyes turned to Ren - after Jacob had posed the idea of ‘Nessie’ I’d immediately suggested ‘Ren’ instead because I was not going to call her by the same name that people called the lake monster - and I smiled, thinking... “What?” He asked, tilting his head at my expression.

My eyes wouldn’t meet his. “I was just thinking... one day, this could be us. In a house, married, kids...” I looked at him, blushing. “If you wanted. We wouldn’t have forever... but we could have what he would have, and maybe that could be enough?” I cleared my throat. “Not as long as Bell and Edward will have. Or as long as any of the Cullens will have actually. But- but we could...”

Jake pulled me close, planting a soft kiss on my neck. “I would want nothing less than as long as we’re allowed in a normal life we’ve both chosen,” he whispered softly. “I picked you. I did, for a reason. And if you’re still around... I’m not going to stop picking you, Y/n.”

I smiled. “Here’s to as long as we’re allowed then.”

“To as long as we’re allowed,” he agreed. “Marriage. Kids. A house. I promise.” He kissed my shoulder, and I leaned back into him. There was still a lot ahead of us, stuff we didn’t know at the time. There was still years to figure out when and how and to get all the details down perfectly, but we would make it. We had thus far like he said. He did keep picking me, and I, him, and nothing ever stopped that. Who needed an imprint bond with love like this?

-

FTL: @alexa-playafricabytoto @chipster-21 @bitchyseawitch

#jacob black #taylor lautner #wolf pack #twilight #new moon #breaking dawn #eclipse #imagine #imagines #x reader