#[but I got SO stressed out my body decided to hit me with my cycle WITHOUT warning..]

[babydollmarauders]

Jack and mom finding out they are pregnant or gender reveal?

i was so tired when i wrote this and i have not proofread it, so i hope it’s okay

*

it hadn’t even occurred to me that i could be pregnant. chalking the sickness and fatigue up to the stress of wedding planning, the cravings and tenderness in my breast being attributed with getting my period soon.

when i was complaining about everything to Jack, he only asked if i should go to an urgent care or if my period was this week. which in turn, got me thinking; i’ve been using an upcoming period as an excuse for two weeks without even realizing that i’ve yet to actually get my monthly cycle.

“Jack! you coming?” Quinn’s voice drifts up the stairs of the lake house, quickly followed by the sound of scolding from Ellen about his yelling.

“alright, i gotta go.” Jack stands from our bed, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “i love you.”

he jogs out of the room, rushing to catch up with his dad and brothers for their golf day.

quickly pulling out my phone, i tap into my period tracking app, a lump forming in my throat at the words displayed.

period 6 days late

eyeing the keys to Jack’s range rover that sit on the dresser, i sigh, standing and retrieving them. i step down the stairs a lot quieter than Jack had just moments before.

“hey hun! i’m meeting some friends at that one mom and pop’s pizza place. i can never remember the name, the one like forty-five minutes out? do you wanna come?” Ellen calls to me as i enter the living room. despite the mix of emotions battling for dominance in my body, i smile, shaking my head.

“no. i’m okay, thank you!” i tell her. “i’m actually about to drive over to the drug store real quick, do you need anything?”

“no, i’m okay! thank you, hun! you sure you don’t wanna come? i feel bad leaving you here all by yourself!” she tells me and i just shake my head again, assuring her that i’m okay by myself. Ellen shrugs and we bid each other a goodbye before i take off out the door.

the drive to CVS is quick, the trip in even quicker because i don’t think twice about which kind of test to buy, i just grab one of almost every option.

by the time i make it back to the lake house, Ellen has already left, leaving me with the house to myself.

i take a deep breath, steeling my nerves as i go grab a bottle of water. chugging the water, i eat a quick snack and pace around the empty downstairs until i feel the need to pee.

making the trek upstairs to the bathroom, i pause in the doorway.

should i be doing this without Jack?

should i be telling him before i take a test?

before i can chicken out, another wave of light nausea hits me and i decide that i can’t wait any longer. Jack is right, if these come back negative then i should probably go to urgent care, just in case something is seriously wrong. and that’s better done sooner rather than later, right?

my hands shake, making it hard to take the tests, but i get it done, setting each one on the counter. with a timer set on my phone, i sit on the cold bathroom floor, my thoughts racing at the possibility of being pregnant.

it’s not like Jack and i have never talked about having kids. we have. plenty of times. we just never imagined it this soon. we’re not even married yet, our wedding is in two weeks. Jack has talked about hoping to have kids alongside Quinn or Luke, but neither of them are even in relationships, let alone having kids soon. will he be upset about that?

or could this be an exciting thing? the idea of having a mini me or Jack running around our apartment. Jack teaching them how to skate, how to play hockey. imagining the apartment full of children’s toys and play hockey sets. dressing them in a jersey and taking them to see Jack play. a child calling me “mama”.

i’m torn out of my thoughts by the sound of my timer, quickly clicking the stop button. i stare up towards the counter, not yet ready to read the results, but somehow already knowing what they’ll say.

i stand up slowly, dragging out the process in order to provide myself with extra time. taking one last deep inhale, i count to three before looking at the tests.

positive.

two lines.

a plus sign.

pregnant.

tears well in my eyes at the results. i’m overjoyed, but i can’t help the nagging feeling in the back of my mind. my heart telling me i’m excited to have a baby, a product of Jack and i, while my brain overthinks, wondering what Jack will think, if he’ll be upset.

grabbing the tests, i go back to our bedroom, sticking them in my bedside table drawer before laying down on the bed. tears well in my eyes as my mind pings from one thought to another. happy and then scared.

i’ve probably laid there for an hour before i find myself falling asleep.

*

“hey, baby.” i’m stirred from my sleep by the sound of Jack’s voice. “you been in here the whole day?”

my eyes flutter open, coming face to face with my fiancé, who squats down beside the bed. i sleepily shake my head at his question.

“no? what’d you do then, pretty girl?” he wonders, switching to sit on the edge of the bed while running his hand over my hair. he leans down to press a kiss to my forehead, and it’s only now that i realize he’s freshly showered and changed out of his golfing clothes.

i can hear the voice of Trevor outside our room, yell-telling a story to lord knows who.

“i found out what’s wrong with me.” i barely even second guess telling him. i thought long and hard about it before i fell asleep and it’s better to tell him now rather than in a few weeks.

“oh yeah?” Jack asks. “was i right? was it your period?”

i’m silent for a beat, just trying to think about how to phrase my next few words.

“um, i guess you could say that?” i tell him “or rather something to do with it.”

“that’s good.” “i’m pregnant.”

we both speak at the same time and i watch as recognition slowly spreads across his face. his hand drops from my hair, making me nervous.

“w-what?” he gives a few slow blinks, trying to process the information i just threw at him.

sitting up in the bed, i reach over and open the bedside drawer, clutching the tests in my hands and holding them out to Jack.

he stares at them for a few moments before taking them into his own hand. he rifles through each test, reading the results.

“can you please say something?” i whisper, tears pricking the back of my eyes. the anxiety is eating at me, nervous of what he thinks.

“we’re gonna have a baby?” his voice is quiet as he looks up at me, his eyes soft. i just nod in response, unable to speak without a sob coming out.

he drops the tests on the bed, cupping my face and crashing his lips on mine. soft and sweet, full of love and affection. he pulls away, laying his forehead on mine.

“we’re having a baby.” he whispers, more to himself than me.

“is that okay?” i question.

“that’s more than okay.” he tells me, pulling back to really look me in the eyes.

“i know you’ve talked before about wanting to have kids around the same time as your brothers, and i’m sorry that-”

“fuck that. we’re having a baby! a little you and me.” he wears an excited smile, placing another chaste kiss to my lips.

“yeah, we’re having a baby.”

#el!hughes au #ask faithlynn ✨ #jack hughes x reader

[sweetestpies]

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄!? ୨୧ 𝐃𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐠 !!

TW: ANGST, STABBING, DEATH..🍓

Basically Dan Feng sins, somehow resulting in his S/O's death. With a little twist in the end. No pronouns used for y/n

Authors Notes: Still ends with fluff I guess? I'm very very new at this so uhm. (omg help why I-) I'll probably update this..‼️

Unrealistic death, you probably wouldn't last this long if you got stabbed tbh?? Dan Heng in his Dan Feng self instead. Also this is written with just a squeeze of information, Slight OOC probably. Not much lore oriented :/ (I'll try better next time I swear)

You don't remember when it happened, nor do you want to. It was about your lover, Dan Feng. He committed one of the ten unforgivable sins. You knew what the consequences were. Life imprisonment, even a death sentence. The High Cloud Quintet was searching all around for you both. You couldn't lose him. It couldn't end like this. "Let me face my punishment for my mistakes!" He protested. You pressured yourself to think of a solution to get you both out of this mess. You could feel your throat hurting and your eyes watering. "Please! We really should do something!" You said. You couldn't help but feel bad for him as he looked up to you in worry and panic. He was shaking; you could sense the fear through his voice. "You're the most important person in my life; I don't want to drag you into this. Please don't try to save me." He said it with stress and panic in his voice. You desperately hugged him. He hugged you back. You could sense the fear in every move he made, as he was about to be held accountable for his actions. It all felt like a dream, but the reality of what was happening hit you like a truck.

"If the cycle of reincarnation is true, maybe we'll meet one day again." He held you tight, trying to make you forget about the situation you both were facing. The thought of meeting again in your next life gave you at least a bit of comfort. You both hear footsteps outside the door. They were here, The Quintet. "It's over." He said it with a sad expression. The guards were talented individuals. They all looked at Dan Feng with shame. "Well, at least we tried." You said. He smiled at you. "Thank you for coming into my life." Then you kissed his cheek gently, causing him to blush one last time. "Thank you, my dear." You embraced each other. "I never want to let go," he said. You both looked so peaceful in each other's arms. You shared one last kiss.

Sadly, the guards weren't that patient. One of them just stabbed you out of anger instead of stabbing Dan Feng. You gasped in pain. Dan Feng was shocked and was cut off from his sentence. You winced in pain. "Ouch—NNGH—hurts.." You fell onto him as the pain grew sharper. Dan Feng's eyes widened as he realized what just happened. "Y/N no..no please! NO—" It's all too late now. He decided to only make your last minutes better. Since even doctors won't help a sinner, won't they? "Shhh, remember our first kiss?" He knew this was so stupid to do. But that's the only way to take your mind off the situation. You teared up more as he said that. "Shh..Shh..Our walks in the parks? The first time I held you tight?" He remembered everything. It made you so happy. He tried so hard to remember the good times at this moment. "I thought I could change my fate," he muttered. "At least we'll see each other." You spoke slowly. He held your hand, making sure you weren't alone in your last moments. "I'm so sorry, Y/N., for dragging you into all of this." He teared up more. "I promise I'll find you again." You spoke your last words. "Good. See you in our next life then, my love." He caressed your cheek as tears slowly rolled down his cheeks. "I love you so much." He said, then everything became blurry and dark.

It was your first year in your new body, recently hatched from the pearl egg. You quickly grew, and you're so beautiful and elegant now. You were busy drawing until you heard a familiar voice from your back: "I found you, my love."

Wow this was awful! but hey! Thank you so much for reading this. I hope you have an AMAZING week! 🙏❤️ My requests are open now by the way! Feel free! 🍰

#dan heng #hsr angst #imbibitor lunae #hsr fanfic #dan heng x reader #how does tumblr work #kohanewrites #imbibitor lunae x reader #honkai star rail #fan fiction #dan heng angst

[poeticandors]

Pretending

Steve Harrington x F!Reader

Summary: After spending years pretending to hate Steve, it soon takes a toll on you, and you feel yourself breaking as you hold onto him.

[From this anonymous request for my 5K celebration: "enemies to lovers (part 4)“i’m tired of having to pretend we hate each other.” Smut [ CLOSE ]  our muses have sex in lotus position,  clinging to each other desperately.  Steve/ST. I love your writting"].

Warnings: Smut/NSFW 18+ content (Minors DNI), P in V sex, sexual language, angst, one mention of weed

A/N: So this was actually from my 5K celebration that just... got out of control lol...

GIF belongs to @unworthythors

“That’s it- fuck, keep doing that,” Steve pants, as he grips your waist with one hand while the other lays flat on the mattress, thrusting his hips hard up into yours as you meet his by rolling down.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you look down at Steve, staring into his eyes.

His jaw tightens, and you know you’ve struck a nerve. That’s all you and him seemed to do with each other. He talked shit, then you talked shit back. You got in his face and challenged him, he would do the same. You knew where to hit him where it hurt the most, as he did with you. It was a constant cycle, fueled with anger and hate for each other. But then one day, it all changed. 

Sure, you still hated each other, but rather than spit venom at each other, you took out your anger on each other’s bodies. You weren’t sure how it happened. One minute, you and Steve were shouting things at each other that now seemed silly. The next thing you knew, he had you pressed into the mattress, your clothes long forgotten on the floor, as he pounded into you without mercy. You still remember how he tasted that first time, how his fingers felt against your skin, and you remember wondering why you both hadn’t done this before. 

“You think you get to boss me around, huh?” Steve growls as he gazes up at you, his eyes blown with lust and the need to release into you. The longer you stare at him, the tighter your chest becomes. 

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. All it was supposed to be was sex— a release from all the stress that built up between you both over the years. The moment you both were satisfied, you would sit and talk without arguing. It was a moment of peace between you both, practically a truce that only occurred when you were in Steve’s bedroom. Once you walked out of that room, it would go straight back to the way things were. It was a constant cycle: you would fuck, talk, and then go on pretending that you still hated each other. At least… you were pretending. You weren’t sure how Steve felt in this situation.

Did he think about you outside of his bedroom when your limbs weren’t tangled with one another? Did he ever want to hang out with you outside of fucking in his bedroom? Did he ever go to sleep dreaming of things that seemed impossible before you both became intimate with one another? 

Because you did. 

As you bounce on top of him, you can’t help the desire that fills you the longer you look at him. It was always there, that desire to get to know Steve in a more intimate way. You constantly thought about the what if’s and how things could’ve been different if you had been honest with your feelings in the first place. 

What if instead of making an enemy out of Steve, you told him how you really felt? What if you had never decided to butt heads and constantly argue with one another? What if Steve started to care about you the same way you did with him? 

What if… what if… what if… 

You saw the way he would glance at you sometimes. Almost as if he had something more he wanted to say. You felt his kisses and touches become softer the more you guys fucked. Could it be possible that Steve did in fact feel the same way? 

Steve snaps his hips up harder, and you can’t help the moan that escapes from your throat. As you dig your nails into his skin, your head slowly falls forward— your lips brushing against his. 

The urge to kiss him was strong— to kiss him in a way that wasn’t just sexual. You wanted the kiss to mean something between you both. You wanted to know what it felt like to be able to kiss him without having to go back to hating each other mere moments after you leave. 

To say you were sick of this was an understatement. It was tiring, going on pretending that things were always as they were. You always knew what your true feelings for Steve were. Hatred was never one of them, no matter what he thought. You only acted that way towards him to hide your feelings, because you couldn’t accept the fact that he might not feel the same. 

So instead of kissing him, you move your face into his shoulder as you clutch onto him. You press your chest against his as you wrap your arms around him, letting yourself get lost in the closeness of him. This was the only time you could pretend to be something more— where you could pretend to know even for a moment what it might feel like to be loved by Steve Harrington. 

Your hips meet Steve’s in perfect sync, and you feel that wave of pleasure rise higher and higher until finally it washes over you, leaving you in a pool of ecstasy as you cry out his name.

“Jesus— that’s it, baby. Fuckin’ come for me,” he pants, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulls you even closer, and keeps your hips pinned down into his as he thrusts into you. 

Letting out a wanton moan, you feel Steve tense underneath you as his breaths become quicker. He groans, his cum spilling inside of you as he keeps you in place.

You soon come back down, catching your breath as you keep your hold on Steve. The only sounds filling the room now are the sounds of yours and Steve’s soft panting, and you’re left thinking about what happens next even though you don’t want to.

You’ll pull back, stare down at Steve as his cheeks stay pink and his brown eyes look back into yours.

“This was fun,” he’ll say as he moves you off of his lap. 

“Yeah. Fun,” you’ll agree as he grabs you a cloth to wash away any remnants of him before you get dressed. 

You’ll look back at him as he settles back into his bed after pulling his boxers on, and lights a joint as he takes a puff before offering it over to you. 

“Thanks, but… I should probably go,” you’ll note, secretly wanting him to ask you to stay.

“Right, yeah,” he’ll respond instead, glancing up at you once more. “See you tomorrow?”

You’ll nod, and slowly take your leave as you will yourself not to cry at the idea of starting the cycle all over again.

“This was fun,” you hear Steve breathe out, and you feel your heart slowly begin to crack.

“…I’m sick of this,” you whisper before stopping yourself, and Steve turns his head towards you as you stay holding onto him.

“Hm? What did you say?”

Shit. He heard you.

“…I’m tired, Steve.”

“Oh… well, here. Get up and then you can leave—“

“No, I… I’m tired of this. I’m tired of this being the only way we can be civil with one another. I’m tired of hate fucking each other, and I’m tired of just…” you breathe out shakily. “I’m tired of having to pretend we hate each other.”

He stays quiet, and you only pull back to look down at him. His hair was sticking up in all directions, his face was flushed, and he was so fucking gorgeous to you. Your heart aches in your chest the longer you stare at him. Steve continued to stay quiet even though Steve never stays quiet, which can only mean two things: either Steve felt the same way you were feeling, or he didn’t.

While your heart pleads for the former, you know that it’s the latter that is true.

Clearing your throat, you begin to pull away. “I’m sorry, I… I have to go.”

Steve doesn’t try to stop you when you pull away from him, not bothering to care about cleaning yourself up because all you wanted to do was get the hell away out of this room. To get the hell away from Steve and finally end this vicious cycle that has only brought more and more hurt to you. 

He says your name so softly and you stop at the door, not daring to face him because you don’t want him to see the pain in your eyes. 

“...Be honest with me, Steve,” you mutter, not caring if he can hear you clearly or not. “Is this just sex for you?”

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean… I mean have you ever thought that maybe… maybe this could be something more? That we could be something more than two people who hate fuck each other every day? Because I…” 

Your throat becomes so tight that you can’t even bear to finish. You really don’t want to cry in front of Steve, but you know that if you don’t say something now, then the cycle will never end. 

You turn to face him, feeling the sting in your eyes as you look upon him. He only stares at you in silence, waiting for you to continue on before deciding on whether or not to kick you out. 

“...Tell me to stay,” you beg. “Tell me that you know there is more between us than just sex. Tell me that you don’t want me to leave, that you don’t want to go back to hating each other. Just tell me… tell me the truth.”

Fighting back the urge to cringe at how pathetic you sound, you instead keep your eyes trained on Steve. All you wanted was an inkling that he might care for you. All you wanted was for him to tell you that it wasn’t crazy to want something more than this. You try scanning his face for any type of hint because this silence is now starting to put you on edge. It wasn’t like Steve to not have something to say, and you couldn’t take it anymore. 

With your throat heavy, you turn away from Steve with a silent vow that this was the last time you would step foot in this room. That you wouldn’t let yourself continue this way because not knowing if Steve felt the same way about you was worse than anything you could imagine. 

“Stay.” 

You freeze at Steve’s voice, taking a moment before you slowly turn back to face him. 

“...What?”

“Stay. Stay with me. Because I’m sick of this shit, too,” he sits up, and you can just hear the tenderness in his voice, giving you a sense of hope. 

Steve holds his hand out and you find the crack in your heart slowly beginning to heal. He meant it. He wanted you to stay. He wanted this to be something more, just like you did. 

Breathing out shakily, you let go of the door handle that was the anchor holding you back to keep you from leaving. His gaze softens, and you catch a glimpse of relief in his eyes as you take your first step forward. As you walk over to him and take his hand, the crack in your heart is long gone, and you know now that it was the end of that cycle and the beginning of a new one. 

“Come here, sweetheart,” he whispers, and your body obeys.

Steve pulls you into the bed with him, his eyes never once leaving yours as you both sit in a silence that isn’t as tense as before. When he pulls you into his lap once more, it’s different– it doesn’t feel the way it did before. You notice that his touch is softer this time, and that the way he whispers your name holds so much more meaning to it than it ever did before. 

“How long?” He asks, and you don’t need to ask what because you already know the answer. 

“Even before we started this. Before we decided that we…” 

His hand comes up, cupping your cheek as you lean into his touch. The way he stares at you is familiar– it’s the way he looked as you both sat talking while in the middle of your silent truce, listening to you talk about whatever it was you thought you bored him with. Now you were left wondering just how often he looked at you like this when you weren’t paying attention. 

“Me too,” he answers.

Before you can stop yourself, you lean forward and press your lips to his, kissing him in the way you only ever imagined. His other arm moves around your waist, pulling you even closer to him. He returns the kiss, even deepening it as you lose yourself in his touch. 

“I never hated you,” your voice comes out in a whisper against his mouth. “I never did. I could never hate you, Steve.”

“Neither could I.”

With that, you knew all the answers to the questions that have since plagued you. This time, you wouldn’t be leaving his room to pretend to have feelings you didn’t. This time, things would be different, and you would show Steve your true feelings that you’ve kept hidden from him for so long.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fic #stranger things fic #stranger thing drabble #stranger things imagine #st #joe keery

[moni-logues]

Wax On

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Established relationship, fluff

Word count: 3k

Content: uh, waxing? An erection? That's it.

Summary: Your waxer cancelled on you last minute and there was no one else available. Your boyfriend volunteers and, against all your better judgement, you let him do it.

A/N: a repost of a pretty recent fic! BUT I got a wax today (brb firing my waxer 💀) and remembered this weird little fic and decided to repost! It's not edited; ngl, didn't even read it back through PEACE

You throw your bag on to the kitchen counter with a huff. 

“Everything ok, sweetheart?” Taehyung calls from the sofa. 

“My fucking waxer cancelled on me!” you cry.

“I was right there! I had arrived early and she text me to say she had to cancel! My appointment was in ten minutes!!! And no one else had any time today and they don’t have anyone with any time tomorrow so now I’m going to have to find somewhere else to go and someone else to do it at the last minute and you know good places don’t have space at the last minute-” 

“Hey, hey, hey...” 

Taehyung wraps his arms around you and kisses your forehead. 

“Slow the stress down a bit, eh?”  

He strokes your hair and you lean into him, resting your head heavily against his chest. 

“Why does it have to be in the next two days? Can’t you make an appointment for next week?”  

“No, there’s a cycle; I can’t get out of the cycle! It has to be now.” 

“Ok, why don’t you do it yourself?” 

You push yourself off him and stare at him, unimpressed. 

“Wax my own pussy? Seriously?” 

“You wax your own legs!” 

“Yeah, legs! Legs are very different, Taehyung. There is a reason I pay a professional.” 

He sighs, tips his head to the side as if he’s thinking, then grins. 

“Let me do it.”  

“Excuse me?” 

“I could do it.”  

His grin is dark and mischievous and he bites his lip at you.  

“You think I’m going to let you do that to me? Have you ever waxed anything before?” 

“No. But I’m sure there’ll be tutorials on youtube; it can’t be that hard.” 

“You say that to my waxer and she’ll hit you.” 

“Hey, come on! Let me try! I’ll study! I’ll study all night and all tomorrow and then I’ll do it; I’ll do a good job, I swear.” 

Taehyung’s misplaced confidence in his abilities is part of what charmed you about him in the first place. So confident and, more often than not, so rubbish. Yet he always takes it all in stride like an indefatigable puppy. His enthusiasm is relentless and hard to resist.  

You consider his proposition. You know he will not do a good job; you’re just not sure how bad a job he’ll do. You can’t deny that there is a part of you that’s curious to see how he does, how he reacts. This is the behind the curtain stuff that men – some men – are weird and squeamish and childish about. Taehyung is not like that; in fact, he is so not squeamish about the weird things your body does that he almost swings the other way and chucks them all into his fetish list. The fact that he brought it up so readily, so quickly, so easily makes you think he might have thought about this before now.  

“Ok,” you say slowly. “I agree on two conditions-” 

He grins. 

“That was easy.” 

“I can change my mind!” 

“No, no! Name your conditions.” 

“One, I wax your legs first.” 

“Well, that’s not really equivalent, is it?” 

“Are you suggesting I give you a sack and crack wax? Because I am not doing that.” 

“Why not? I’m going to wax yours!” 

“Because I’m not a freak like you are!”  

He laughs.  

“And I’ve never done it before! And I wouldn’t want to hurt you!” 

“You can youtube it. If I’m willing to let you, you should accept.” 

“No. My condition- my first condition is that you let me wax your legs first.” 

He sighs, making a show of being annoyed and disappointed, though you know he doesn’t mind really. 

“Fine. Next condition?” 

“For every bruise you give me, I get a present.” 

“What sort of present?” 

“A big one.” 

“Deal.” 

* * * 

When you get home from work the next day, slightly apprehensive, Taehyung is on the sofa again, glued to his phone. You’ve barely taken your shoes off before he’s calling to you. 

“Are you ready? Are we doing this now?”  

“Give me a fucking second to take my shoes off, Tae!”  

“I’m ready whenever you are!” He turns his phone around and you can see he’s watching a waxing video. “I’m all studied up; I know exactly what I’m doing!” 

“In theory...” 

You go to the kitchen to pour you each a glass of wine and spot that he has already set everything up: wax pot on, towel down, ready and waiting for you.  

“Why are you so keen and why are you so weird?” you ask him as you hand him his glass.  

He takes it from you and keeps on coming, closing the distance between you, meeting your lips with a kiss that leaves you breathless.  

“Oh... What was that for?” You lean on the kitchen counter and blink up at him. 

“I just love you, that’s all,” he shrugs. “Are you ready?”  

“I think you mean, are you ready?”  

You kneel down beside the towel, give the hot wax a stir and pat the floor for him to sit. He looks at you, a little reluctant, like he’s done something naughty and is about to be found out. Then he pushes his trousers down. 

“Taehyung! What have you done?!”  

He has just one hairy leg. 

“I had to practise!” he argues, pouting as he sits on the towel. “I left you a leg!”  

You can’t be annoyed because he has a point and any practice he can get before you spread-eagle yourself before him is a good thing. You sigh and shake your head, unable to keep yourself from grinning.  

“And how did you find it?”  

He shrugged.  

“Kind of not as bad as I thought, actually.”  

“Good. Tell me if this is too hot.”  

You spread wax over his shin and check his face. He just nods and takes a sip of wine. Then you flick up the edge and rip. He flinches, his face pinched, and you laugh. 

“Not as bad as you thought?” 

He groans. 

“It’s somehow worse now I’m not doing it to myself.” 

“Well, you just hang in there because you’ve a lot of leg to go yet.” 

When you finally finish, you tell him to stay put, lying on his front, and run to the bathroom for moisturiser, which he forgot to get out. You apply it liberally over both his legs and he hums peacefully. 

“This is nice; you keep doing that,” he mumbles, head resting on his forearms.  

You rub the lotion in in a way that would probably get a professional fired and when your hands flow up to the top of his leg, you press a kiss against his hip and he shifts. 

“Hey, don’t do that,” he says softly. “Not unless you want to deal with the consequences.” 

“You are such a horndog. Is there nothing that doesn’t turn you on?” 

“Not when it’s you...” 

You switch places and lie down on the towel. You are beginning to regret ever agreeing to this. You’ve done it yourself before, only twice, and it did not go well either time; it was awkward and painful and took forever. Taehyung may well have ‘studied’ but he’s never actually ripped the hair out of anyone’s genitals before. You concede that he does have the advantage of being a person apart from you and having a bonus pair of hands (yours) which will absolutely be there to help him if he needs. 

He taps your left knee, in exactly the way your waxer does, to get you to bend your leg out to the side. He’s frowning as he dips the stick in the wax, wipes off one side, swirls it around and brings it over to you. He hesitates. Wax drops from the stick, blobs of it sticking thick on your delicate skin.  

“Taehyung,” you prompt. “You have to actually do something now.” 

He grins at you with his bottom lip stuck in his teeth. Then he turns his eyes down and spreads a thin strip of wax across your mound.  

“Hold on,” he says, putting the stick down and bringing up his phone. “I want to check...”  

You sit up, using the pause as an opportunity to drink some of your wine. The look of concentration on his face is fierce as he glares at the screen, trying to lodge someone else’s knowledge in his brain. 

“Ok, ready now.”  

You lie back down. He flicks up an edge of the wax and holds it tight between thumb and forefinger. He presses down heavily with his other hand along the length of the strip and you can see him counting down in his head to the moment when he rips it back. He bites his lip, holds his breath and pulls. Pulls slowly. 

“Ow, ow, ow!” you cry. “You have to do it quicker than that!” 

“Sorry! Sorry! I just- it's weird actually doing it when I know it’s going to hurt you.” 

“It hurts a lot more when you go that slowly. Really, seriously, as quickly as you can.” 

“Ok, let me try again.” 

He looks at you this time, with the edge of wax in his fingers and you nod and do a quick, swishing movement with your hand to demonstrate. He pulls again.  

“How was that?” 

“Much better, thank you. Make sure you pull along not up, though.” You demonstrate, miming waxing a strip from your leg, keeping your hand low. “See?” 

He nods, serious, and tries again. 

“That was good, right? Look!” 

He shoves the strip of wax in your face, little hairs sticking up all over the surface. You push his hand away. 

“Yes, that was better but I do not need to see it. I also don’t want to rain on your parade but you know this is the easiest spot, right? There are lips and creases and shit to navigate soon, you realise?” 

He swats your thigh. 

“Yes, I know your pretty, little pussy very well, thank you very much.”  

He moves carefully, one small strip at a time and you would be annoyed at how long it was taking if it were anyone but him. You’re grateful that he’s taking his time with it. You lie back and watch the ceiling, letting him get on with it; he’s surprising you by doing a not altogether horrendous job. You feel like you should feel weird about it – your boyfriend giving you a wax – but Taehyung has never, not even once in the whole time you’ve known him, made you feel weird about anything. When you struggled to tell him something you’d always wanted, a fantasy no one else had ever realised, he had looked at you with such open enthusiasm, such a keen willingness that the words fell from your mouth suddenly without effort; then he did it. When you had your period and the flu and could barely stand, he was the one who fished out your menstrual cup, no quibbling, no squawking, not even when he dropped it and it all went everywhere: all over you, all over him, all over the floor; he just emptied, rinsed, re-inserted and then cleaned everything up. And then did it again twelve hours later.  When you feel ugly and bloated and undesirable, he takes as long as you’ll give him (hours sometimes) telling and showing you just how desired you are. Nothing phases him. Nothing puts him off. He accepts you entirely. 

“Um.”  

“What?” Your stomach drops; of course, it has been going too well... 

“Does it matter if I get wax on your piercing?” he asks, frowning uncertainly at the jewellery in question. 

You jolt up, eyes wide. 

“Are you asking if it matters if you accidentally try to rip my piercing out? Yes, yes it does. It matters a lot.” 

“How do I get it off?” 

“Just flick it, Tae.” 

He smirks at you and you can only roll your eyes. 

“Stop being a child; get on with your job.” 

“A child? You’d have a child do this, would you?”  

“Shut up. You know what I mean.”  

As you lower your head back down, your eyes alight on something that makes your mouth drop. 

“Taehyung, what is that?”  

You point at his boxers, or rather, the distinct and entirely noticeable bulge in them. 

“What?!” He asks, defensively, turning away from you. 

“You cannot be getting hard right now.”  

“I can’t help it,” he mumbles.  

“Please tell me you did not get yourself off today watching waxing videos.” 

He turns to you now, his face outraged and indignant. 

“I did not. How could you say I would do that?” 

“You’re an enormous freak, baby; I wouldn’t put anything past you.” 

“Hey! I’m only a freak for you.” He’s mumbling again, his cheeks slightly pink, lower lip slightly jutting. “No one else has a pussy this pretty; I can’t help that I like it.” He turns his head and looks you in the eye. “I like doing things for you.”  

You reach up and push his hair out of his face. 

“I know you do,” you tell him softly. “I know. And I love you... But if you keep that up, you’re going to lose your job at the salon.” 

He laughs.  

“Some of your hairs aren’t coming out,” he tells you. “Do I just leave them?” 

“Tweezers. Did you bring them?” 

He shakes his head and you tell him where he can find them in the bathroom. He holds them up to you to check they are the right ones and, when you nod, gets back to work. 

“Ow, fuck, Tae! Grab the hair, not the skin!” 

“Sorry!” 

He moves his head closer, much closer, to get a better look and then he reels back. He looks at you to see if you saw (you did) and grins.  

“If I get too close, I’ll have to kiss you,” he explains. 

You roll your eyes.  

He taps your knee and then your ribs and you pull them together, holding your shins tight. Taehyung moves so he’s directly in front of you and swears quietly. He looks at the ceiling, resting heavily on his palms. 

“What?” you ask. 

“You told me I’m not allowed to get hard,” he said, not without effort, screwing his eyes shut tight.  

You chuckle softly, and put your legs down, taking the opportunity to finish your wine.  

“Ready yet?” you ask, looking at Taehyung looking anywhere but you. 

“No,” he answers with a whine.  

“You are so nearly done. If you can get your mind out of the gutter for five minutes, it’ll all be over.” 

“That is easier said than done when I have to look at you and touch you but can’t actually touch you.” 

“Call it an exercise in self-control. Pretend you’re edging yourself. You like that.” 

He hums thoughtfully. 

“True... Ok, fine, knees up.” 

When he’s finally finished, he breathes a sigh of relief.  

“Why am I sweating?” he laughs. “That was so much pressure.” 

“You’re not considering a career change, then? Kim Taehyungie waxer extraordinaire?!” 

“Fuck no,” he replies with feeling. “I would do anything for you, but doing this for someone else? No. No. No, thank you.”  

You chuckle as you inspect yourself, surprised to find that he really did do an ok job. The next few days will reveal just how many of your hairs he managed to break rather than pull out but, all things considered, you are impressed. You are even fairly sure he hasn’t bruised you – and a little disappointed that this means no presents. 

He crawls over to you and kisses you deeply, pulling you close. 

“So?” he asks, grinning at you. “Did I do a good job?” 

“Actually, you kind of did, yeah.” 

“See? Didn’t I promise I would?” 

“You did.” You heave a sigh knowing that gloating is forthcoming.  

“And you had the audacity to doubt me. As if I would ever endanger-” 

“Your favourite part of me, I know-” 

“Hey! No! That’s not what I was going to say! It’s not my favourite part of you!” 

You raise a sceptical brow. 

“It’s one of them, sure. But I love you for more than the sex, you know. Like I said, I would do anything for you. I even offered to let you give me a sack and crack wax; that’s true love!” 

You laugh, your eyes alighting on the wax pot – still on, wax still hot.  

“Well,” you start, a grin tugging at your lips. “I mean, I could do it.” 

Taehyung’s eyes widen and he starts to grimace. 

“It was your idea! Come on, my little freak; let’s get a little freakier.” 

He screws up his face and sighs, standing up to take off his boxers. You swap places: him on the towel, you kneeling above him. You search quickly on your phone for a few tutorials and give the wax a stir. When you’re finally ready to start, Taehyung turns his face towards the ceiling, breathing out carefully while his fingers tap repeatedly against the floor.  

“Of course this was my idea,” he mutters quietly. “Of fucking course. Had to say I’d do anything for you. Had to suggest this.” He turns his head back to you. “Never let me suggest anything else again, ok?” 

You laugh and spread a stripe of wax across his skin. You wait for it to harden and flick up the edge. 

“Ready?” 

#taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #taehyung fic #bts x reader #taehyung #bts fluff #bts fic #mmm repost

[gayerthanevertbh]

conversations with your demons - part 1.

pairing | step-mom!natasha x fem!reader (romantic)

summary | after my mother’s passing, i seem not to understand on why i can’t feel that tiny emotion inside of me. and natasha understood that, way too comfortably that her arms are the only thing i could feel. 

warnings | underage drinking (they are all 18), natasha being a little “annoyed”, talks about a dead mother, READER IS 18 IN THIS STORY, mentions of SA and drugging. 18+!

notes | this was difficult to write, but i hope you enjoy the first chapter! let me know your thoughts and complains - i really don’t mind HELP

series masterlist | masterlist | taglist for this series

I met Natasha when I was only fifteen years old. So, I don’t know her that well. She looked kind but didn’t smile a lot. Although whenever mom would be with her, that’s the only time she’ll smile. To me, she would. But, she wasn’t as inviting as I hoped to imagine. She was also very funny, she made mom laugh until I could practically see her lungs getting out from her chest – speaking metaphorically. I would laugh too, but it would die down too quickly.

After they got married, Natasha bought a house that was sort of away from the city. They hated the crowd, the people most especially. I didn’t really care much, well a little since my best friend was living beside my home. Now, I have to cycle twenty minutes to get to her. Natasha has been the one who fixed up my room since I was the only child. I remember going inside my room for the first time and couldn’t believe that I had extravagant furniture around it. She smiled at me and gave me a nice warm hug, whispering how much she adores me. I adored her too, especially receiving things like that.

I was alright, I felt okay. Until I came home with the awful news that wrenched my stomach to the core.

I walked inside and saw Natasha sitting on the couch, with her palms on her forehead. She looked up at me with slight red puffed eyes – clearly from crying – and told me that mom died in a plane accident. At that time, I didn’t know how to react. I felt so many emotions that were hitting across my body, trying to come inside. But, I couldn’t feel anything. I remember so vividly that I nodded to her and smacked my lips, trying to explain somehow that I don’t know how to react. I loved my mother, I think she’s my best friend. But knowing that your mother died from an accident is something that I could not understand.

Now, it’s been weeks. After her tragic death, Natasha decided to cremate her since that’s what mom has always wanted. I never showed up at her funeral, I was too embarrassed with my actions since her death. It was all confusing to me, even though it’s not that hard to understand. When the ceremony happened on that day, Natasha visited me and gave me a tray of food. She demanded that I eat it since I haven’t eaten actual food for the last few weeks. I nodded and ate bits and pieces of the food while she was standing by the doorway to watch me eat. I didn’t finish the food though, I had no energy to. She understood that immediately and left me all alone in an isolating room where I can just rethink my thoughts.

This went on for weeks and weeks until I’m in the last week of graduation. Wanda tried contacting me before the big day, although I always hung up on the phone and continued to just lie down and think. Natasha would often see me – even begged to open the door since I had a lock on it. And every day, she would leave a tray of food on the doorstep – expecting me to eat it. But sometimes, it would be left unfed.

Now, I had to freshen up for the big day. But, I had to wake up earlier since I have gotten slow. Meaning, that I wasn’t as fast as I was before. And I didn’t want to stress Natasha, so I took a long warm bath and wore minimally natural makeup. I put on my robe and saw how much I lost weight, I don’t even know how many pounds I am, but my cheeks say it all.

Natasha came inside my room and was in awe of how I looked. I don’t understand with her kind eyes, maybe she’s just showing sympathy. Either way, I don’t know if I liked it. She smiled tightly and commented, “You look great.”

“Thanks,” I responded, letting out an awkward chuckle. I wore the hat that was on my bed and I watch her as she fixes up my sleeves, looking down at me like a proud mom. Although, I and Natasha always consider ourselves friends. We talked like one, there was no mother and daughter relationship in it. We liked it that way. Well, for her at least.

“You ready?” she asked, pinching my cheek a little that I could feel it prickle against my skin. I nodded weakly, remembering my mom in every movement I made. I know she’ll be proud, I don’t know if she’s a ghost though. I hope not – it would be embarrassing enough for her to watch me as I walked down that stage.

“I’m proud of you, Y/N.” Natasha says, smiling down at me. I could feel her sincerity through the glimpse of her eyes and the way she spoke to me, it kind of made me feel that relief. “I know things won’t get so easy for you and I understand, but I’ll be here every step of the way. Okay?”

It’s like I could trust her with my life.

“Okay,” I nodded, leaning my head against her shoulder until her arms were wrapped around me like a blanket. “Thank you, Natasha.”

For whatever fucked up reason, her grip around me felt too soft. Like, it wasn’t an embrace from a mother – since technically, I don’t see her as one. I was probably overthinking it since I didn’t have this kind of physical contact after almost a month. I felt at home and it all felt too natural.

“Let’s go now, dorogoy.”

                                               —

I was happy that I didn’t trip on my way to the stage. But, everyone was staring at me as if they can’t believe a person who has been isolating themselves had just gotten out of their cage. Wanda was at the bottom of the floor, waiting for me. She knew my anxiety, and she was always there to catch me. Once that was over, I immediately got back to my seat and waited for the whole ceremony to end.

“There’s a graduation party later at night, can we go together?”

Wanda had her arm wrapped around my shoulder, knowing that I could fall at any second. I knew it was too much to ask, but she’s the only person I have right now.

“I don’t know,” I said with a dismissive tone. “I kinda just want to stay at home.”

Wanda sighs and pulls me closer to her, saying: “Come on, you have to go. This is something we should be celebrating about.”

Now, I wasn’t trying to be a “party-pooper” and I really didn’t want to go. Honestly, I didn’t give two fucks about a graduation party. But as I think about it – maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. Maybe this could take my mind off elsewhere other than just being cooped up in my room; possibly rotting until it reeks of smell. I didn’t have much choice here – and I wanted to have some fun too. It wouldn’t hurt, right?

“Fine,” I murmured, slightly flashing a smirk at Wanda until I could feel a pat on my shoulder. “But, I have to ask Natasha first if she’s okay with it.”

“I hope she does say yes,” Wanda responded. “It’ll be good for you. I promise.”

I smiled tightly at her and opened the school door, seeing Natasha was at the front door of the school with a lit-up cigarette that was in between her lips. She looked up, took it off her mouth, and smiled. Her lips seem to be a little chapped, I could give her my spare chap-stick.

“Hey, there graduate,” Natasha says, putting her cigarette back inside her mouth. I find it annoying that it was so close to my face, I wasn’t so fond of cigarettes. They smell disgusting and could kill you – but if I was asked to have one, I’d probably take it. “Ready to go home? We can celebrate with my famous pasta dish.”

Wanda buts in, “Kind of jealous about that, Mrs. Romanoff. I’d love to try some of that pasta.”

I turned around and looked at Wanda with a questioning stare, she said Mrs. when my mother was obviously dead. Knowing how blunt and talkative she was, I wasn’t really bothered. Although, I’m hoping she doesn’t say something like that again. There was pure regret on Wanda’s face and quickly blabbered, “I–I’m very inconsiderate, I’m so sorry–”

“It’s okay Wanda,” Natasha cuts her off, smiling brightly – too brightly – at her. “Have a good summer, okay?”

Wanda nods and walked away but before I get inside the car, she looks back at me and gives me that look. I should ask Natasha about that party, it would help me a lot – even though it’s stupid. I nodded back and closed the door beside me, sighing through my nose as Natasha started the engine.

“Hey, Nat?”

“Yes?” Natasha responded while looking at the road with her squinted eyes, probably seeing something afar that she didn’t like. I gulped, feeling anxiety building up my throat as I think of words to say before I let it out stupidly. It wasn’t like she was going to be upset about it, she’d understand. She knows what was going on with me, so I’m sure she’ll agree.

“Can I go to a party later? It’s for the new graduates.”

There was a long silence between us, and I could feel her hands gripping the steering wheel hard until her knuckles turned into this kind of white-ish color. She sighs, maybe for too long, and replied with a lower tone in her voice.

“I don’t know, Y/N.”

I raised my eyebrows and tried to interpret what she had said and was surprised by the tone of her voice, especially when her facial expression changed.

“Why not?”

She sighs again and gripped tighter on the wheel, saying: “There will be boys who can drug you–”

“You’re thinking of the worst-case scenario,” I responded, smiling nervously while I could feel both of my hands twitching from fear. Or is it? “I do need this, I need to be… out there. Do you understand what I’m trying to ask, Nat?”

She nods but doesn’t say anything. Was she upset that I even asked her that? There was another broad silence until I sighed painfully loud and murmured, “I won’t go–”

“No, you should.”

Before I could even respond, we were already back in the house and she turned off the engine and turned her head to the side, and looked at me. She bites down her lower lip and whispered, “Just stay safe, okay? Call me if you need a lift.”

When I got inside, I watched as Natasha dropped her jacket on the arm couch and made her way to the patio to light up another cigarette. I could see the way she blew the puff in the air, her head slightly tilted and lolled. I could feel her disappointment, especially in the way she talked to me. I didn’t understand though, because she was just a stepmother to me. Even though she deserves that validation, I still find her as my friend. I just don’t understand or comprehend why she reacted that way.

But oh well.

                                               —

The party was a slob. Most of the people who were in the house weren’t even from our school, and it made Wanda laugh. We had friends from the back and decided to go there with the alcoholic drink that we bought. It’s funny because the house we were in was the richest house in the city. I was kind of surprised that they had no drink. Or, the alcohol itself was in the cupboards and wasn’t allowed to be touched.

I was glad that my anxiety didn’t kick in when I was hanging out with Peter and Wanda since I knew in such a crowded place I could get sick. My friend, Peter, as I mentioned – he used to have this infinite crush on me back in middle school. Though, as a lesbian, I always told him that we were just friends. He then understood that reference when we both got into freshman year.

“Here,” Wanda offered me a small red plastic cup that looked clear. I raised my eyebrows and felt a little sketched up. As my mother always says: Never take a drink from someone else. However, this is Wanda who we are talking about. I’m sure it’ll be fine.

“What’s in this?”

“Vodka,” she smiled – nodding at me to drink it up. “Come on, loosen up a bit. And we’ll dance, okay?”

Peter takes off his blue sweater and I could see his abs through his white shirt, which made me look away since I hate the thought of abs on men. Even Peter. Which made me realize how incredibly homosexual I am.

“I don’t like dancing.” I stated nonchalantly.

“Me neither but this is our last high school party,” she reasoned, pouting a little. “Come on Y/N, just drink it up.”

Bad decision. For the next few hours, I was extremely intoxicated that I was lying down on a hunk of concrete that was near the pool. I shut my eyes, trying to remember who I was just getting close with. She was tall and her hair was sort of braided – like Natasha’s – and couldn’t stop talking to me. I may have talked so much to her that I wasn’t being myself anymore. I lay there for a while, with my red cup in my hand. This went on for fifteen minutes until Wanda found me on the ground, letting out an exasperated gasp.

“Y/N! Jesus,” she brings me up with her arm clung around me, feeling like she was about to collapse me again. “We have to call Natasha, you had too much to drink.”

With the pacing of the time, I didn’t know I was sitting on the side of the road with Wanda when I saw Natasha coming outside of her car, with a slightly annoyed face. I wanted to whimper in fear but instead bowed my head down with shame, I felt incredibly stupid and irresponsible. I wasn’t a reckless child, but tonight I was. And even though it was fun, I felt awful about it – especially through the expressions that Natasha was giving.

“Thank you, Wanda,” she says, helping me up and bringing me into the backseat. I flopped my back against the car cushions and watched them as they had a small conversation. And after that, I may have fallen asleep – barely even remembered anything.

I walked to the living room and sat upright on the couch, sniffing while I watched Natasha slamming the drawers to pour herself a glass of wine on her glass. She drank it, looked at me back, and shook her head. I know she was disappointed, I shouldn’t have done that. How stupid was I?

“Did you know what happened?”

I shook my head, which I was being truthful about. I absolutely don’t know what happened, I was too drunk to know. So, I kept shaking my head until she clicked her tongue behind her teeth. She continued, “Y/N, you broke five glasses in that house. And, a boy was about to grope you.”

“I’m sorry, how did you know about that?” I asked, but I wasn’t being rude. I think. I don’t know what I was doing, but I wanted to know how she knew that part of the story. It wasn’t like I am traumatized by it, men are simply pigs that don’t understand boundaries – it was always religiously in my mind, so zero fucks was given when I knew that.

“Wanda told me.”

I sighed, leaning my head against the arm couch, and replied with a murmur, “I knew what I was doing. Natasha, you don’t have to be worried for me–”

“You don’t understand,” she responded, her tone getting hard with venom in it. I didn’t realize she was that angry at me, I almost felt embarrassed with my actions. “I care for you, Y/N. I know you’re going through a lot–”

“I’m sorry but I’ll have to disagree with that,” I stand up, wiping my eyes roughly on my index finger before I could take a step forward to Natasha who seemed a little taller than me. She was always taller, but this is new. I added, “I know you lost your wife. I do, but I lost my mother too. I respectfully think you understand how much pain I’m dragging along, I haven’t cried ever since my mom died. I know it’s weird and…”

“It’s not weird, Y/N,” Natasha, her voice becoming softer, which was more inviting. She leans against the wooden table until both of her hands are pressed against the wood – holding herself up. “I just don’t want you to be in danger. You’re a little girl, I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

I raised my eyebrows when she called me a little girl, which I find cute – yet a little concerning. She has never called me that, not once. Or maybe, I was just very intoxicated that I don’t understand what she was telling me. So, I shrugged it off and went to the stairs, looking back at her and smiling lazily.

“Thank you for bringing me back home,” I said with a higher pitch in my voice – which was unusual. She smiled at me, wrapped her arms around her body, and licked in between her lips; it was dry.

“Of course.”

I gave her one last time and went up to my room, closing the door before I could feel my cheeks burning up a little. It was from the alcohol that I took, it was definitely that. I washed my face with cold water and decided to sleep naked tonight – since I was lazy enough to find clothes that were in my walk-in closet; my closet wasn’t even that big anyway. I was just being a baby.

I kept thinking about Natasha’s reaction when I couldn’t sleep. It kept replaying in my head, somehow that wasn’t a worry from a mother. It was something else that I couldn’t put into words with. I felt my skin prickling whenever her arms were wrapped around me, especially today. Something felt different, I know it.

I just don’t know how to explain or word it out.

taglist: @sayah13​ @lizzieolsen89​ @marvelwomen-simp​ @when-wolves-howl​ @cmfouatslota77​ @riles-is-an-idiot​ @ygtft-chen​ @aru-son​ 

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha angst #cwyd series #natasha romanoff #black widow x reader #black widow x you #dark!natasha #dark!natasha romanoff x reader

[pannacottababy]

My first HxH fic and it's an....

X Reader!

I am also questioning why my first HxH fic is dedicated to Chrollo instead of Feitan but oh well, the deed is done so have this.

So content warning: Implied nsfw, lots of angst, some sleep induced writing

Hope you enjoy!

There he lays, a real life painting of pristine beauty- a living, breathing proof that art can exist in real life. His breathing was slow and deep, and you can hear him snore a tiny bit.

~~~

"Moonlight Affair"

'Cute.' You think to yourself. It was not about to stop you from leaving him though. You agreed, this was just for one night- the last night you will ever let him in again.

You picked up your clothes and started to set the shower. Your clothes are draped over the handle and you feel the warm water hit your skin.

'Chrollo sure did paint my insides...' You start to look down at your body. There are some bite marks near your chest and thighs. It stings a little, but it was a testament of this "romance" you got yourself into. A blush spreads on your cheeks.

After a few minutes or so, you decide you are done. You told yourself you will not be entranced by Chrollo ever again. You noted that this would be the last. With a determined expression, you readied yourself to head out.

However... That promise you held to yourself was broken when you stepped out of the shower and you saw him sitting up on the bed. His eyes were so soft, it was almost pathetic.

"Leaving without me?" He mused, a smile spreading on his face. There was something about him that always draws you in again. You knew he was trouble ever since he took you on that one date.

He has quite a reputation, or so you have heard. You don't quite understand why he chose someone like you- a person that would not benefit him in any way.

"Is it a crime if I do?" You replied with an amused look at your face. You were standing in front of him with only a small towel on- who knows where this will lead the both of you?

"Such a shame you took a shower, sweetheart. I was going to ask if you wanted another round?" His hands were clasped together. The moonlight illuminated his hopeful expression. You can see his eyes twinkle a little.

"Hah, another round with you? Chrollo, you know that is not going to happen." You were prepared to leave and get dressed but Chrollo grabbed you by the hand.

"Sweetheart, you know you can't resist me." There was a sense of certainty in his voice. Now, that's a wild accusation, you think to yourself. You know you can live without him. You retrieve your arm and look the other way.

"Chrollo, we talked about this... I..." You start to fall silent and a frown is painted on your lips. Were you about to go through this again?

"Please, I need you." He speaks once more to break the silence. You know him well, if he needs you, he needs you.

You find yourself in front of him again. You sit down on the bed and sigh. "You know, I was thinking if you are only using me to relieve some stress." You can't even look at him directly in the eye.

"Relieve some... stress?" There was a puzzled look in his face. He tried to look for signs that you were joking but as he finally found none, he pressed his lips on your hand softly.

"You know I can never do that to you. I respect you too much to just want you for that. (Y/n), I think I may be... falling for you." He continued to hold your hand and looked at you with those dark eyes- oh, those dark, dark eyes.

If he keeps looking at you that way, you might fall into his arms once more- and God knows you were trying to avoid that.

"Falling for me?" You paused and your eyebrows furrowed. "Why?" Why do you fall into the same cycle of knowing you had enough to waking up in the same bed as Chrollo Lucilfer?

"I can't quite explain it myself. I know that I am devoted to my group, and I deeply care for them... I feel the same for you." You meet his soft gaze. You know how deeply he loves his group and yet... You know you can never compete with his obligation.

"You can't be serious." You sigh and put your hand away. "Chrollo, you know we can't. You have your responsibilities, I have mine. I can't expect you to love me as much as you love your group, I would just end up disappointed." You clasped your hands and looked the other way.

"What if I can promise you that I will love you equally?" He tried to bargain and turned your head to face him. His eyes were soft, almost pleading.

"You cannot. Your team always has to come first, and I understand that." You start to look away once more, blinking back tears. "I know that, I expected certain danger when I agreed to be on that date with you... Chrollo... I am afraid to lose you." A single tear streams down your cheek- a tear so pained and yet so full of longing.

Chrollo began to hush you and put you in his embrace. "Oh, sweetheart... How come you never told me any of this?" His hand starts to comb your hair with his gentle fingers. He knows just how to calm you down.

"I expected you to just be in it for the intimacy... I never would have expected you to fall for me. And to live with the fact that I could lose you anytime... It scares me..." You start to sob in his arms, your breath hitching.

"There, there, (y/n)." He starts to gently caress your back. "I know this isn't the time... but would you want a comforting kiss with that hug?"

"Are you kidding me?" You looked at him with tears streaming down your cheeks. "Of course I would..."

You two shared a soft, innocent kiss and he continued to hold you. "There, there, sweetheart. You won't lose me, I guarantee that."

"You better make sure of that." An empty threat was thrown his way. "Or I will personally dig your body and kill you again."

"Aren't we morbid?" He replied with a bewildered look on his face. You have never seen him this amused before.

"You kill and steal for a living." You raised your eyebrows and start to feel a little better.

"That is to be expected from me, (y/n). That isn't the case for you, sweetheart." He starts to chuckle, patting the space beside him.

You know you said this would be the last, but you guessed the shooting stars despised that wish of yours.

You two fall in comfortable silence for a while. As he holds you, you can see the love in his eyes. It was sometimes hard to believe that this heart you held in your hands is the very heart that exhilirates when there is bloodshed.

"I am serious though, keep yourself safe." You hold him by the arms, pleading. There was a tight grip on his arm, as you gave him the warning.

"For you, sweetheart, I may have the reason to." He laid both of you to bed. He began to cuddle you and you swore you never saw him glow like this before. "Now, let us get a good night's rest- maybe get some breakfast tomorrow. You can leave by then, okay?"

"Okay." You reply softly, laying in his bare chest. One thing you adored about Chrollo is he always surprises you with a new scent. Today smelled like papaya. You guessed he had a new lotion... or was it his bodywash? A little feminine, but you can work with that.

"Hey, Chrollo?" You inched closer to his side and wrapped your arms around him.

"Yes, (y/n)?" He gazed at you with a small smile on his face. His hands put away your stray hairs from your face. You can tell, in the end of the day, it was the aftercare that he most looks forward to. You don't like being spoiled often, but that is something you can never tell Chrollo.

"Just letting you know I will never leave you, as much as I say I will." You cannot bring yourself to say those 'three words' that you long to tell him but you hoped he got the message.

"I love you, too, (y/n)." He pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead and snuggled you up, kissing the rest of your face repeatedly.

"Chrollo, that's too much..." You start to giggle as you feel ticklish. He smiled, stopping and you look at him with a puzzled look. "What are you smiling at?"

"You said the same when I was inside you. Need I remind you who is in charge?" He replied jokingly with the biggest smile in his face.

"You know, despite laying nude beside you, I just can't take you seriously." You draped a leg over him. "Are you sure that your companions won't meet you tomorrow?"

"I know you said we can do breakfast and you can leave, but you can always stay for as long as your schedule permits." His hand gently grazed your cheek and he pressed a gentle kiss on your nose.

"I might be able to move around some things... But we'll see." You shrugged and grabbed the blanket to cover both of your bodies. "Now, let us rest, hm? We'll see what tomorrow brings."

This may be the first time you ever felt thankful to have known Chrollo.

#chrollo lucilfer #hxh chrollo #hxh #hunter x hunter #hxh fanfic #hunter x hunter fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

[ot3]

Is there any reason why a lot of zines don't accept fanfic/any writing at all? I've been wanting to join one for a while but I have no artistic ability to speak of.

there are a ton of reasons for this! in fact there are so many reasons for this that it got long, so i'll stick it under a cut.

the most prominent reason: most of the people running these things are artists, and not writers! they just want to put together artbooks and are just less interested in the fanfiction side of things overall. it's a completely different skillset and an overlapping but not identical audience.

there's nothing from stopping any more fanfiction-oriented people from putting together their own zines that are just fic (theres actually an ace attorney writers zine happening right now i think? havent looked into it much) but i'd suspect the reason there isn't more of that is because the knowledge of production and distribution that's necessary to make these projects work is less common in fic writers. writers also tend to, in my purely anecdotal observation, have schedules and careers that make it less feasible for them to run these kinds of projects, whereas the people who run zines are very often freelance artists already and so they just sort of. slot this kind of thing in around their usual work cycles.

second big reason: logstics of formatting and printing. a single fic of any meaningful length takes up 4x the amount of space of a single drawing, minimum. some projects are pretty anal about keeping within specific page counts. upping the page count often adds very little to the manufacturing costs, but once your zine surpasses a certain weight it's much more expensive to ship. we ran into this problem with the AA4 zine, which was pretty beefy. it was very easy for the packages to hit over a pound in weight which made shipping more expensive than a lot of zines.

it is also INCREDIBLY difficult to format text nicely. It's a massive undertaking, I can't stress how annoying this is to do. It is also not a skill a lot of people have. Even if you're just doing it pretty bare-bones the amount of time it takes to drop a few pages of images into a pdf vs the amount of time it takes to format that many pages of text is not comparable.

a third stumbling block: vetting contributor portfolios is so much more involved and consuming than vetting art portfolios. i can easily go through dozens of art portfolios in one sitting. let's pick a random number and call it 30 before getting burned out and needing to take a break. it really doesn't take more than a couple of minutes to decide on most portfolios; at first glance, you can get a strong idea of a person's overall body of work. it's only the edge cases that take very long to look over. Going through 30 art portfolios would realistically take me under 2 hours, easy.

On the flipside, it is impossible to tell the quality of writing from an initial glance most of the time. You have to actually go in and read a certain amount before you can decide. I'm going to be very very conservative and say that you'll read, lets say 1000 words from a contributor's writing portfolio before you make a decision. Going through 30 portfolios now means reading at minimum 30,000 words of writing. Could I do that in two hours? Maybe. But it'd be a lot harder.

Now most zines get HUNDREDS of applicants, but bigger fandoms can easily hit over 1000. This means hundreds of thousands of words of reading before you even begin the actual work of the project. It's just an insane time commitment. Then, once the project begins, you run into similar problems for critique. It takes a way longer time to beta read 50 fics than it does to give notes for 50 drawings. It's just a super different kind of work that not many people are interested in doing on the kind of scale required for zines.

and a final reason: enjoyment of fanfiction is, I feel, a LOT more heavily dependent on how much you share the creator's opinions on the source material than fanart is. Gauging stuff like how 'in character' writing is is highly subjective but also super important, which makes it a much more difficult call to make. since it takes much less time and effort to engage with a drawing, that drawing not lining up perfectly with your interpretation of the characters is less likely to be a dealbreaker if there is enough technical competency in the execution to make up for it. At least for me, that is, because there's often a lot less context to impose these character assumptions on in a drawing. You as the audience to a piece of art have more freedom with interpreting it than you do with writing. Meanwhile, with fanfiction, you're either on board with what the writer is selling you or you aren't. There are plenty of perfectly technically competent writers out there whose stuff I will never be interested in reading because it is very easy for me to be knocked out of my enjoyment of a fic due to just one or two bits of throwaway characterization I don't agree with. And I am absolutely far pickier than most, but I don't think i'm wrong in saying that overall people are pickier about how characters are portrayed in fic than they are in fanart.

essentially, everything about the process of large-scale fanzines is much more suited towards the visual arts process than the writing process.

[hinatastinygiant]

3 | Mist

Pairing: Kaminari x Fem!Reader

Null & Void

FLASHBACK 10 MONTHS AGO

In your cold, dim prison cell, you stare up at the ceiling. Your mind replays all of the events that have led you to this point, all of the memories, all of the decisions. There's no going back, no undoing any of it, no changing what happened. You can't change other people, after all.

You hardly notice the echoing of distant footsteps growing closer and closer, but you definitely recognize the feeling of someone hovering over you. You let out a sigh and turn your head toward the entrance to the room.

A chilling voice breaks the silence and when you turn your head, you see the man whom your father had spent years trying to track down. Chizome Akaguro, the infamous Stain, is standing in your cell.

Hatred gleams in his eyes as he recognizes you. Your father, the one who put him in this hell hole. As you sit up, you brace yourself for the worst. This man is known for murdering countless people from other factions- those who have quirks.

All you can do is face him head-on. If you avoid him or run, it will only anger him further and you will die.

"You're his daughter," he finally says, breaking the silence that had begun to weigh heavily on you. He takes a step toward you.

"I am," you nod, watching as he draws a shiv made from a sharpened toothbrush.

"Your father has sent countless men here, letting them rot to death, believing they have no purpose in life. Quells. He betrays his own kind and it's pathetic," he spits.

"My father was a hero," you spit out.

"He is the one who deserves to rot," he replies, his voice low and menacing. "Do you know why I'm here?"

"Go on," you sigh. "All killing me would do is send me right back to him. You can't win."

Just then, Stain's eyes widen. It isn't because he's concerned about you or your father, though. Instead, his eyes catch a glimmer - the quell rights activist pin you'd attached to your prison uniform. A moment of hesitation causes him to take a step back and reevaluate the situation. "Why are you in here?"

"I was framed," you scoff. "My father found out some shit about the Prime Minister doing experiments on people in the eighth so they decided to get rid of him and blame me for the whole thing."

Stain's grip on the toothbrush relaxes and he circles you with predatory eyes. You don't move a muscle as he sizes you up, searching for some hint that you're lying. He then turns away and heads toward the door. "Your father is a coward," he finally decides, "and so is the Prime Minister. Follow me."

Cautiously, you do as he asks you and follow him out of the cell. He then leads you through the maze-like corridors and finally comes to a stop at his own cell.

"Come in," he hums, ushering you inside. "I want you to meet someone."

When you step inside, you see another man slumped in a corner. "The Prime Minister isn't just running experiments in the eighth. He's doing it here, in this prison. My roommate here has an ability called symbiotic decay. Just look at him, you can tell the experiments are taking a toll on him."

The man, who seems to be barely clinging to life, doesn't even acknowledge the two of you standing before him. His eyes are dull and empty, his skin dry and falling off as you watch him.

"The quirk activates when the user is under extreme fear or stress. That's when the symbiote produces a decaying-inducing substance that affects the user's surroundings," he says as he gets too close to the man for your own comfort. "When he's afraid or stressed, the world around him begins to decay. The physical deformity you see happens over time from him using the quirk too much. His body just isn't used to it. It's a vicious cycle."

You shake your head, backing up until you hit the sink behind you. "I was framed and put in here because the Prime Minister is doing that to people?" you gulp. "I- I've got to get out of here."

"No," he corrects you as he spins around, places both hands on either of your shoulders and bends down to your eye level with his nose nearly touching your own. "You were put here because Chisaki thinks you are a threat. You've been an activist for quells even before you knew this information. It's a good thing you're here, though. We might just be able to work something out."

∿*̩̣‧̩̣₊̣‧̩̣*̩̣𐦍*̩̣‧̩̣₊̣‧̩̣*̩̣∿

FLASHBACK 2 MONTHS AGO

"Alright," the woman across from you hums as she flips through your file. "I'll be your new counselor since Shiozaki, well, was no longer up to this position. What's your name again?"

"Sakamoto," you answer. "FE-40536"

"Ah, okay, you're the one I've been waiting for then," she smiles, tilting back her cap as she speaks.

"I feel like a local celebrity," you answer, returning the gesture.

"Mmm, you should. I've got a plea deal for you here, Miss Sakamoto.

"Oh, yeah?" you hum, "What's the deal?"

"In exchange for your freedom after serving one year in prison, you will take over your father's former position as surveillance officer. I will, however, monitor your movements for the next six years," she explains.

"Okay... and where's the catch," you nearly roll your eyes right in her face.

"Y/N, this is a good deal. I need someone I can trust on the inside," she insists.

"Yeah, right, and you'll trust me? That's laughable."

"Listen," she sighs, rubbing her temples, "this is the best I can do for you. I'll allow you to maintain your roll as a dedicated quell rights activist as long as you-"

"Wait, wait, wait," you shake your head as you lean closer to her. "So you want me to be a cop, someone working for the government who sniffs out people like me... 'Dedicated quell rights activists' as you so delicately put it... while still being one? How the hell does that make any sense."

"Because," she shrugs, as if it was completely obvious. "You'd be working for us. You'd betray that silly cause."

"Oh my god," you groan, finally giving in to the urge to roll your eyes. "Is that all, Miss..."

"Utsushimi," she answers, a smug grin on her face.

"Right, okay, Ms. Utsushimi. Well, when you have an actual offer that sounds somewhat reasonable, maybe I'll consider it but until then please kindly fuck off."

With that, you turn on your heels, raising your middle finger high in the air at her as you walk out of the room.

"God, that girl is impossible," you hear Utsushimi mutter just before slamming the door on your way out.

Null & Void

#kaminari x reader #kaminari x you #kaminari x y/n #denki kaminari x reader #denki kaminari x you #denki kaminari x y/n #kaminari #denki kaminari #mha kaminari #bnha kaminari #fanfiction series #ao3 #mha x female reader #mha x reader #mha self insert #x reader #x fem!reader #fanfic #dystopia #dystopian au #my hero academia #fanfiction #null & void

[mychemicalmenopause]

Wish me luck

As I woke from my third nap, confused about what day it was and where I was supposed to be next, I could feel the tension building in my neck and shoulders, the tenderness in my breasts, and throbbing pressure behind my eyes. All I wanted to do was go back to sleep, but I had already hit the snooze button 4 times and now I had a headache. I checked my phone and had my usual 2 missed calls, several work messages, and a couple texts from friends. I rolled my eyes and tossed my phone out of reach, pulled the blanket over my head and closed my eyes. Hell week was here again.

Last week I was trying to decide between January and February for a hysterectomy after finally getting a "yes" from my new doctor, only to find out yesterday that the doctor hadn't read the information I left for him until after the surgery was scheduled (for January). When I was in the office, he told me he was definitely in on removing my uterus to help with the bad bleeding and endometriosis symptoms. I told him I also wanted my ovaries removed in order to stop the cycles of hormones that cause my PMDD. He said because of my age, it could take years off my life if it doesn't help and that's a big risk. He said he would review the information I brought and that I could 'probably twist his arm' into the oophorectomy. Dr. Williams called and said he wanted to try chemical menopause for 6 months to make sure my body not only tolerates the meds I would need after surgery anyway, but to ensure the meds actually alleviate my PMDD symptoms. I'm thankful for this option, as I didn't know it existed, but I'm frustrated because I spent a week trying to wrap my head around the fact that I finally got a "yes" and stressing about when to schedule it. Now, I have to try and prepare for menopause to happen in a couple weeks instead of in January.

I'm terrified, to be honest. Luckily, chemical menopause is reversible if it doesn't help with PMDD, but that also means that I'll have to live with PMDD for another 15-ish years until my body goes into menopause on its own, even if I still get my uterus removed. That's a pretty defeating thought, but I'm trying to stay as positive as I possibly can for a skeptical realist with an attitude problem. I know that I'm going to have to give this process 100% and that it may be the hardest thing I've ever done. This is likely going to consume me for the next several weeks / months, so I'm planning to keep a log of everything here...

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Okay so I mentioned in my costume meta about Chris in water cycle tee but that my look at it got a bit long. well this is the separate post for it. - I love this tee - yes I did some more hunting and found the tee - not on sale anymore, but I managed to find the full picture of the graphic which is the most important thing. 

We don’t see the full image during the scene, but wardrobe wouldn’t know that, so it’s always fair to assume that there is meaning in the whole image. All of the print t-shirts Chris wears are significant - they foreshadow so much. We’ve already seen him in tees foreshadowing, for example both his and Eddie break downs were signalled through his slippery slope shirt (the idea of something snowballing and one thing leading to another i.e Chris’s breakdown contributing to Eddies own) and the shirt with the little embroidered surfers he wore at Bucks party just before the tsunami in 3x01 foreshadowed them riding out a wave, not to mention all of the dinosaur and space themed tees and pyjamas. 

This one is no exception - in fact there is a fair amount on this tee that is making me think! There is the obvious - the circular nature of the water cycle and the idea of things coming full circle. But there is also the idea that you can only have sun if you are prepared to accept the clouds and the rain that are the suns by products. This tee also shows snow - rain in a different form - which once its fallen is often considered transformative and beautiful. Snow can also be seen as cold and depressing (especially if it is where you are not used to getting it) but the t-shirt also suggests that the sun melts that snow and returns it to water - becoming a river and flowing into the sea. 

This is yet another example of water being hinted at in season 5, and the idea that water returns to the sea when we’ve had Buck being reminded of the tsunami as his ‘greatest hit’ at the beginning of the season. not to mention that there is a shark hanging out in the ocean on the tee after we’ve had a shark rescue featuring prominently in the episode before.

The little pine trees are very reminiscent of the snow covered one Chris wore when he smashed the gingerbread house in 5x10(which was foreshadowing the accident that led Eddie to decide to leave the 118) as is the little house we see and the fact that the arrow is pointing directly at it.

Then there is a waterfall. There is a couple of things about waterfalls that has me thinking. Firstly its the play on words - it doesn’t say waterfall - it says waterfalls - like water falls from the sky as rain etc. then there is the fact that waterfalls are a vital part of a healthy water system  - they purify and oxygenate water in the most efficient way - creating nutrients and supporting a healthy ecosystem. there is also the human health benefits of waterfalls - its been scientifically proven that waterfalls are calming - they help to release negative ions in the body - reducing stress. they have long been a symbol of letting go but also play into the idea of being adaptable and if we think about dream meanings then the waterfall represents the ability to shift identity, changing and growing - usually stemming from an emotional experience or seismic change in ones circumstances (sums up Eddie pretty well doesn’t it!). 

Basically the graphic on this tee is connecting several of the threads that we’ve seen playing out over season 5 connected to Eddie and his story arc!

The other thing that waterfall made me think of - the parallel with 1x01 (thanks @copyninjakura for helping with the episode number when I couldn’t remember) So this actually got away from me a bit and turned into something beyond my initial plan to point out a fun little potential parallels and well, I’ve gone full clown here, but I don’t care and I had fun and I do think its a bit relevant!!!

Athena; All right. No heroics. Don’t go chasing waterfalls.

Buck; I don’t know what that means

Athena; Nobody thought you would.

There are a couple of things about this scene and those 3 lines that has made me convinced it has been chosen by the writers room to come back into play this season (as we seem to be paralleling S3 and 1 hard iso far!) and have therefore gained new meanings. This whole scene is the moment that Athena begins to understand and appreciate Buck, its the moment when he gains her respect so its already important in the grand scheme of things. ‘no heroics’ - hello to the belief that Athena has at that moment that Buck has a very healthy hero complex and that its reckless. And when we have an episode titled hero complex in season 5 - the season when we’ve already had a call back to S1 Buck and his struggle with losing someone on the job - that you can’t save them all (it s a very hero like mentality; to think that you can save everyone!) with I am very 

Sure at the time the line ‘don’t go chasing waterfalls’ was a fun reference to pop culture that Buck would be too young to understand, but like ‘No heroics’ it also plays into who Athena this Buck is at that point in time - that he willingly goes chasing waterfalls - which is reckless and can get you killed (think of people taking risks, seeking adrenaline by riding waterfalls!) and again plays into the hero complex idea.

The thing is though - Buck is the one that finds the solution - he literally makes a waterfall to solve the problem and stop the bad guy from getting away. If you look at that scene as a whole - it actually has a fair few parallels with what we’ve been seeing in s5. Theres dispatch (Abby) being on the phone - preventing the situation from getting worse by providing information to Petey so he can ‘escape’ - only its a trap - parallels rather nicely with 5x11 and the speed rescue - Eddie being on the phone providing information that helps with the rescue (because it would’ve blown up before everyone was safe if he hadn’t) 

There’s the family of three moving into a new house - starting a new chapter of their life (especially as its implied they moved from out of the area), then when the trouble starts the kid leaves the relative safety of her bedroom. She’s scared and her parents not being present parallel with Christopher calling Buck for help when he’s scared and Eddie isn’t ‘present’ not to mention the locked doors - girl is locked in a closet and can’t get out while Chris is locked out of the room and can’t get in and the fact that both kids are on their phone getting help!!

And finally we have the role Buck plays in the rescue - he is in civies, but he’s in the fire truck (4x13 parallel), he is the one who spots the bike that helps them locate the right house, he knows there is something going on inside, but he just stays outside and observes - relaying information and letting the cogs in his brain turn. When he is then faced with needing to step in and help Buck grabs Emma (the mom) before she can get into the house and into the path of danger, but he also comes up with the solution - he doesn’t chase the waterfall - he makes the waterfall. Knocking Petey off his bike and stopping his getaway in its tracks (don’t even get me started on the Buck and Athena and bikes and stopping parallels that would need to be a whole other post!!). 

Season 5 Buck had spotted the problems Eddie was going through (the bike) and we see him observing Eddie and making comments to push him a little but not actively getting involved because he knew it wasn’t his place at that time (observing and collecting information) then he does chose to step in and offer advice - (the Ana of it all) but continues watching - He sees where Eddie is at - sees the warning signs of breakdown coming (you don’t have to pretend with me Eddie) but doesn’t have a solution at that moment (Petey making his initial get away on the bike before turning around because the roads s blocked) but as soon as the breakdown happens and he can step in (petey firing at Athena) he is there to support and he figures it out (uses the water canon) -  getting Eddie and Chris what they need - he makes them the waterfall that will enable them to re oxygenate and create a healthy thriving eco system (that he is an integral part of)

Then finally there is the tie into 5x14 and Buck misunderstanding the assignment paralleling with him not understanding the meaning of ‘don’t go chasing waterfalls’. He took that line and used it to his advantage - he connected the dots and made the waterfall instead of chasing it. just as he probably didn’t misunderstand the assignment, he connected some dots and used the assignment to his advantage - he made Eddie (and probably Christopher) smile - those moments of light heartedness are everything when you’re as low as Eddie - they can give you the little lift you need to keep on climbing the mountain - Buck understood the assignment perfectly!

#kym costume meta #kym costume stuff #911 costume meta #yes I am clowning hard and no I will not stop - its fun #Christopher diaz's graphic tees #watercycle as a metaphor #buck understood the assignment #buck gave Eddie his heart #insert im connecting the dots meme #chasing waterfalls #911 speculation #911 #911 on fox #911onfox #911 fox #911 meta #parallels #i didn't know i'd end up here either #buck #eddie #christopher #evan buckley #Eddie Diaz #Christopher diaz #buddie #buddifer

[revirushifaa]

OK, but imagine MC dying of old age while their daughter is still super young and Lucifer doing his best as a single dad for centuries as their daughter grows from the terrible twos into the teenage rebellious streak that definitely didn't come from him (it did).

Haaah, more papa Sushifer is in order! This is already fun, so I'll give up a scenario!

Enjoy!

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

Daughter of Pride:

MC is gone. His partner is gone, and now the only thing that was left of them, was their one-year-old daughter, Lucille. While Lucifer was still a little mournful over his mate's loss, he promised to them that he would be the one raising their firstborn, it was a promise that he won't break, he did his best with the raising alone, after all he had experience with raising children.

Lucille was a demon like her father so she aged differently from her human parent so it was only natural that MC died without seeing their daughter grow up, something that torment them even to the last moment of their life. Lucifer didn't wish to remember that sad day. It had to be one of the most saddest days of his long life.

Please, MC, my dearest... stay with me

Lucifer... take good care of my little girl. Tell her that I love her... I love you too, both of you...

With that last sentence and warm smile, MC stopped living. He was so devastated that he turned himself colder around everyone... but his daughter. Lucille was the only living being left from his mate, the one who he had to protect and raise. It wasn't an easy task, normally, MC was who took care of her the major part while he was absent in business with Diavolo.

But he had promised with his heart to MC, that Lucille would be cared for and raised well. Just looking his daughter, it remembered him of MC. While she had his body form and face features, her hair and her eyes were MC's, it was like seeing his beloved in their daughter, which he took as comfort. He would nuzzle Lucille at nights and snuggled her in bed, the baby half demoness had MC's calid smile and laugh, but she had also inherited that hard attitude from Lucifer. It was a mix, of hard and soft.

"You are my pride and joy, Lucille. Never forget that, daughter mine."

What he would always murmur in her small ears as he snuggled her and cradled her. With his daughter with him, he didn't become full isolated to his room, if he had lost both MC and Lucille, then Lucifer wouldn't be sane at all. At least Lucille was safe and sound with him.

"No, Lucille. You cannot have sugar all three meals."

As the little demoness grew up, she was more hard to raise or to try to discipline. She was spoiled, that was true, and sometimes she turned out bratty.

"But I wanna sugar. SUGAR NOW!!"

"Lucille—"

"SUGAR!!!"

Sometimes her temper tantrums, gave Lucifer huge migraines and constant stress. It was when he used his major authorital tone, that he made her to stop acting up. And if that didn't work, then it was taking her privileges and sometime in the corner. He never hit her as a punishment. No. He just couldn't bring himself to do that, the demoness was only three and if he did that, he would be breaking an important promise that he had made to MC. Be fair with my little girl, Lu.

So physical discipline was a no-go with him. There were other ways that worked his way. Like when he grounded her from playing with her toys for three days. She would only study and practice her writing. No dessert as well. He had glared sternly at Beel, warning him to not be lenient when his daughter was grounded.

"That's it, young demoness. No toys or dessert for THREE days."

"But, Daddy-"

"No buts, or else I'll add another day to your grounding."

That was all to shut her savage mouth in protesting. Of course seeing her sob and cry because he was too harsh in speaking to her, always made his heart hurt. He would always tone down his voice and speak more gentler to her, explaining why he did that, and then fix the situation with offering to do a compromise, if she was well-behaved and willing to it.

As she reached into adolescense, that was a huge stress to the poor prideful father. Lucille at 16 was such a pain in the butt. Demanding and rebellious, a huge picky eater and a true brat.

"I will be clear with you, young demoness. If you give me an ounce of attitude, then your D.D.D will be confiscated for a month, you won't go out during that time and will be put on chores duty for until I see an improvement in your behavior. And you will write three thousand times I will not disrespect or disobey my father. Clear?

Lucille would huff at how strict her father had turned himself into. But she hadn't known that it was all her part to have put him that way. Lucifer was fair if she was fair, it was a cycle of giving and giving back. Lucille behaved, Lucifer rewarded her. Lucille misbehaved, then Lucifer punished her.

"Father, when did you turn like an old boring grandpa? I only want to have fun! You can't keep me as your prisoner in this boring house!"

"Lucille, I demand more respect from you. This is your father, speaking to you. And I never said that I would keep you here all the time. But first things first. Do your school work and then you can go out. Do we have a compromise?"

"Fine. We have a compromise, Dad."

Lucifer would smile a bit softly, when the young demoness was reasonable.

"That's my good, little demoness." He would end it with a kiss to the top of her hair, before departing from her and going to do his own work and the demoness would go to do her own thing as promised.

Sometimes the lying habit came to Lucille and because of her, Mammon got in many trouble when it was all her buying the latest of fashion clothes.

"How do you explain this, Mammon?"

"Hey, what have you gotten into you?! I don't buy girly stuff! Maybe you should ask Lucille!"

....

"LUCILLE!!!!"

"What?"

She would come to him with a nonchalant look, as she's wearing highly expensive clothes and from that, is when Lucifer realized that it's all his daughter and not his greedy brother.

"So it was you who spent all of our money to please your nonsense..."

"Nonsense, Dad? I am a demoness in need of good clothes and looks! What if I find some good looking human in the future? They wouldn't like a normie, like how Uncle Levi dubs it!"

Lucifer's poor head throbs with absolute pain and stress. Ugh his daughter, is again causing him to go grey at just the age that he was at currently.

"Apologize to your uncle and then go to your room and write three thousand times I will not lie and blame my uncle into buying items that I don't need. Right now. March."

"But, Dad!"

"No 'but Dad'. Now, Young demoness. Or else, I will make you write it fifteen thousand times. How is it going to be?"

"I'm sorry, Uncle Mammon..."

And after her uncle acknowledged her apology, she went up to her room to do that, with a sad face, she didn't want at all to make her father disappointed today. Lucifer took notice of it, but decided to wait until she was done with the writings to talk about it.

It was several hours but she was done, and her handwriting had gotten better, it was because of the writing punishments that it got better, seeing as this was a very common punishment that her father doled out to her when she was being disobedient or a brat.

"I...I'm done..." she said in a quiet voice.

Lucifer had looked up from the papers that he was signing. He frowned softly, the demoness hadn't realized it but she had a few tears rushing down her cheeks. His firm tone from before had softened to that gentle tone, as he approached her and pulled her into his hold.

"I hope this will be enough to end your lying habit. I do not like seeing you sad, but you know I cannot let you get away with something that you have done wrong. It is okay now. You have learned and there is not reason for me to keep mad."

He had soft-spoken to her, the way that she knew that he wasn't mad or disappointed anymore. But Lucille couldn't help feeling bad either way. She in fact, never liked putting her dad mad or disappointed in her, she let the silent tears trickle down. Lucifer said nothing, his comfort was always silent and he showed it with actions rather than words. He held her in his arms, all the time that she needed.

"I'm sorry I disappointed you, Dad..."

"There's no need to apologize now, this case has been solved. Don't beat yourself too much over it, your uncle had forgiven you, I have forgotten about it. It's all okay, Lulu."

And by calling her by her special nickname that he had for her, she knew all was well. She hugged more but to show him that she actually loved him so deeply. Lucifer already knew that, he loved his daughter with all his life, it didn't matter how much trouble she was, that wouldn't change anything.

He might be cold, stern and everything else that others said of him behind his back, but the love of a father was above everything else. He loved his demoness quite so much, so that was what was important.

"I love you, Dad. And I mean it."

"I love you too, daughter mine, with all my heart."

#obey me imagines #obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me lucifer

[rosesvioletshardy]

Fic / blurb request : “ i can't believe this! we're going to be parents! “ with anthony beauvillier

okay wow this was the first time someones requested something and even posting it now still doesn’t really seem real

i finally finished writing it even tho it’s a little short so i hoped you like it and sorry if there’s any mistakes since i wrote it on my phone

warnings: mentions of nausea??, pregnancy test

# of words: 735

main masterlist

anthony masterlist

—-

You and beau always told each other anything, especially if one of you started to feel sick. This time it was different. At first you thought it was just normal symptoms that happened the week before your period but this time they felt a little different. The foods you usually liked to eat made you somewhat nauseous and you couldn’t keep it down that well.

You couldn’t tell if it was because your body was messing up your cycle because of the recent stress you’ve been experiencing from work or your body just decided to mess with you just because. Anthony began to grow concerned for your state seeing that you weren’t feeling better within each passing day for the past couple of months and was considering taking days off to make sure that you’re okay but you wouldn’t let that happen.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” he asked while fixing his tie as he looked at you through the mirror as you sat on your shared bed.

“Yes, beau. I’m fine. I’m just a little tired, that's all.” you tried to convince him as he just sighed and walked over to you and grabbed your hands

“Okay. fine. You’re fine I guess. But if I come home and find you running a fever, i’m going to say “I told you so”” he said before giving a kiss on the crown of your head

“Yes you have every right. Now, go win before Lou and Barry come at me for keeping you” you told him while shoving him out the bedroom and out the door as the two of you laughed

During the game you couldn’t focus at all and got hit with another wave of nausea during the third period. At this point you didn’t even want to check your phone to see if you were late because you knew it could just come within a week. Checking the time, you had just enough time to go to the store and pick up some stuff before Anthony came home. You knew you should’ve checked as soon as you found out you were late but you didn’t want to believe it until you truly felt like it was the need.

A pregnancy test. Something that would either make someone happy or question everything. Before opening them, you sat there looking at the boxes before grabbing them and reading the directions to the three tests, all different brands, ranging from cheapest to moderate price, you took them all and set them on the counter and a timer on your phone. The 5 minutes felt like it was going to be forever and they were, even after the alarm went off. You wanted to look but you thought it wouldn’t be right to see the results without Beau.

It took him a little while to come home seeing that he had to give some interviews afterwards but as soon as he got home, you knew it was now or never, and never wasn’t an option.

“Babe, can I tell you something?” you asked him as he came back into the kitchen after changing

“Yeah of course. What is it? Are you okay?” he asked concerned as he grabbed your waist pulling you in

“I’m fine. But I think I figured out why I wasn’t feeling so good and why you were concerned about it.” you told him as you wrapped your hand around his hand and looked up at him

“What is it?”

“I think it’s better if I show you, but just letting you know; I haven’t looked either.” you told him as you lead him to the bathroom room

When you entered the bathroom, the first thing Anthony noticed were the tests on the counter. He just looked at you as tears filled his eyes, neither one of you said anything as you grabbed the tests and nodded at him before flipping them over.

“Oh my god.” was the only thing that came out of his mouth as well as a small chuckle

“Yeah.”

“You’re pregnant.”

“I am.” you laughed

“There’s a baby. That’s growing inside you that’s half me and half you” he told you as he bent down to your lower abdomen

“Yeah there is” you told him as he got up to give you a kiss

“I can’t believe this, we’re going to be parents” he laughed

“We’re going to be parents”

#new york islanders #anthony beauvillier #anthony beauvillier x reader #anthony beauvillier imagine #anthony beauvillier blurb #anthony beauvillier fic #request #anon

[floral-force]

Tactical Touch - Drabble

Summary: After senior officials make you doubt your capabilities, Kylo Ren is there to quell your worries.

Words: 1.2k

A/N: this is basically self-indulgent fluff. it's short n sweet! enjoy <3

fic masterlist | read on ao3

You were sitting in your quarters after a long officer briefing with General Hux and Kylo Ren, trying to focus on your tactical plan. Every officer in the room had ruthlessly questioned you about your new tactical plan against the Resistance. One officer had gone so far as to suggest that you were not capable of composing a successful strategy, and his comment stung as if he had slapped you in the face. Luckily, you’d fought your anger back, but it made you stutter for a few minutes. Now, you decided to stare at your datapad even longer to revise your strategy and plans, hoping to have more success in tomorrow’s briefing.

There was a knock on your door, and that’s when you realized that you’d left your uniform strewn all over the floor—you’d quickly undressed and thrown on a large shirt to get comfortable.

“Shit,” you murmured. You looked at the door, standing up and yelling, “I’ll be there in a moment!”

After shoving your uniform in your closet, you fixed your hair, taking a breath before pressing the button to open your door. You were met with a broad, masked man in black robes. It was a sight that would terrify anyone, but you allowed the man inside instead of screaming.

“Kylo,” you sighed, closing the door. “It’s late, why are you up?”

“Why are you up, sweet girl?” Kylo retorted, his modulator enhancing his snarky response.

You closed your eyes and chuckled. “I need to work on my plans.”

“Why?”

You looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “You heard me in there. My plans are…” Your voice trailed off.

You walked over to your bed and sat down. You could feel your shoulders curling inward, your anxiety beginning to fester and spread throughout your body. Your eyes were trained on your lap, avoiding Kylo’s imposing mask. There was a hiss of air and the clunk of metal on your desk, and you looked up to see Kylo staring at you. His brown eyes were trained on you, assessing you while the corner of his mouth twitched. He wanted to speak, but he was holding back, waiting for you to continue your sentence.

All you could do was stare at him, your exhaustion beginning to set in. It had been a long cycle, and the briefing was the poisoned cherry on top of it all.

General Hux, are you sure we can trust the commander’s strategy?

The comment was echoing in your head, consuming your thoughts. It had been an unwelcome distraction during your last-minute work session; second-guessing every move and strategy you wrote and used was certainly not helpful. You felt a gentle push in your head as you began to fall deeper down the well in your mind. You looked up at Kylo to see his eyes still trained on you. He approached you, stopping in front of you. You tilted your head to look up at him, meeting his gaze.

He whispered your name. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

For some reason, his question broke you. There was a crack in your armor, and he was so damn perceptive—his ability to use the Force was helpful too—that he knew exactly where to tap and make you shatter into a million pieces. It was a good thing when you weren’t feeling up to talking; he could simply feel your energy and respond appropriately. Sometimes, though, it wasn’t great, especially if you wanted to be left alone with your thoughts. At this moment, however, you appreciated his ability to break you open and hit your soft spot.

Your eyes teared up and you looked away from him. “The briefing...Captain Landa…”

Kylo knelt, taking your hands in one of his large ones, the other reaching to cup your face. His gentle touch was enough to cause a tear to roll down your cheek. It was incredible that someone so fearsome and brutal could make you feel safe—safe enough to cry.

“Captain Landa is arrogant,” Kylo said, wiping your tear away. “You know that Hux trusts you. That other officers trust you. That I trust you.”

You nodded. “I know,” you whispered. More tears slid down your cheeks. “It just…It hurts.”

“Oh, baby,” Kylo sat next to you, taking you in his arms. “Sweet girl, please don’t cry.”

His words just made you begin to softly sob into his shoulder, nestling yourself into the safety of his strong arms. He held you close, his body warm and firm. Feeling his chest rise and fall comforted you; he was there, he was real, he cared about you, he wanted to comfort you. The physical reassurance started to help you relax, your sobs turning into sniffles. You sat up, his arms still around you, one hand stroking your head. He was looking at you, his brow furrowed in concern, his eyes revealing his sadness at seeing you hurt. Kylo gently kissed your forehead, and his tenderness was enough to make you tear up again.

“Do you need me to stay with you tonight?”

“Yes, please.”

“Okay,” he murmured.

He stood up to quickly shed his robes, and you admired his body. It was riddled with scars and marks from battles and training. When you asked him about each one, running your fingers over his marked skin, he’d refuse to tell you until you’d nearly covered him in quick kisses. Kylo was tall and broad, towering over everyone and intimidating all who met him; you loved the way he used his size with you, taking advantage of the difference more often than not in bed. You didn’t mind—you loved how safe his arms made you feel, the way his lips crashed into yours, and the way he held you against his chest so you could hear his heartbeat.

You were laying down in bed under the sheets, exhaustion finally beginning to take over now that you were sure that you were safe. Kylo got into bed next to you, taking you into his arms. You let your hand rest on his chest, feeling his warm skin under your fingertips, reminding you that he would protect you.

“Do you need me to take care of Landa, baby?”

You laughed, looking up at him. “No, babe, I don’t. I think I want him to hear Hux—and you, Supreme Leader—give me permission to execute my plan.”

“If you say so.” Kylo brushed your hair out of your face. “You know I don’t mind.”

“I know.”

You scooted up to kiss him, and he held you closer, wanting to feel your body against his while his tongue explored your mouth. When you pulled away, you smiled at him, and Kylo smiled back at you. Seeing him smile was a rarity these days—he was stressed, even if he didn’t tell you, and knowing you made him relaxed enough to smile was enough to make your heart sing. You loved him, and you knew he felt the same; you didn’t need him to explicitly tell you all the time. Right now, he showed his love to you through his touch, stroking your head and kissing your forehead.

The deadliest man in the galaxy kissed you softly and held you close, humming a gentle lullaby to help you fall asleep, his arms protecting you from any harm that may come your way.

taglist:

@andiesturgss

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x y/n #kylo ren fluff #kylo ren fanfiction #kylo ren fic #self insert fanfiction #self insert #star wars fic #sw fic #fluff #self indulgent #my fic #star wars sequel fic

[sparetimeimagines]

Light Yagami x reader smut request <3

Description :light is tired of misas bull shit and decides to leave to go to a strip club to find a woman to fuck his stress out of, he finds a stripper and takes her to a hotel and rails her after he rails her, he thinks she would make a good sex slave and decides to confess his Kira and if she doesn't want to be his sex slave he'll kill her

Stage Name | Light Yagami

Tags; Smut, Dancer!Yn, Choking

Masterlist

Beautiful women. Everywhere.

Friday night, 1:30AM and all the prime dancers were on the floor. The club is packed, not a free seat around the stage.

Red velvet couches on the back corner with a micro table in front of them, drinks scattered.

So much attention, it made more sense to be selective with the dances you choose to give. The abnormal amount of customers in the club, the pills hit just right when your next client approaches you with a twenty.

“Friction dance, Sweetie?” You guide your client to the table, having him settle in a chair, feeling eyes watching you intently. “My name’s Y/n.” Your stage name was chosen at random, however it stuck to you perfectly. With your legs spread over his lap, you effortlessly grind against him. It was a simple dance for you, one of many you’ll give by the end of the night.

The uncomfortably warm hands scrape against your thighs, which you flick off immediately.

“No touching.” You warn the grabbing the twenty from his hands, tucking the bill in your top. Your hips roll into his and you shove your chest into his face allowing him the small amount of victory he gets with the single bill.

Quickly turning around to face anyone but him, you grind your ass into him, your attention is drawn to the newest in comer.

Brown hair, fair skin and broad shoulders. His eyes search the club like he’s on a mission, no one catches his eye.

You bounce on the lap of your customer, waving your hips over his focusing on the in comer. You have to have him.

He settles in a chair in the back still scoping out the dancers.

Your interest in the guy behind you is slim to nothing when you finally end the dance with him, he tucking a measly dollar in your thong.

“Thanks Baby.” You wink, hurrying off to the new client.

Where did he go? Where is he?

You check the back corner, seeing him return with a drink in hand.

He has to be mine.

Sexy hips swaying, your tall heels making your legs tower across the floor. Velvet carpet, you meet him, his eyes uninterested, starring straight.

“Mmm what’s got you hiding in the back for?” You lean forward, you breasts squeezing together for perfect view.

“Well I was waiting for you.” He smirks suave across his lips. “Don’t tell me that was your best dance...” those dark eyes look up at yours and you touch your chin, emphasizing your thought process.

“Hmmm. Maybe someone else caught my attention?” You sway in his direction.

“Someone else, you say?” He continues to smirk, pulling a wad of cash from his pocket. “Does this catch you attention?”

You eye the money and return to his face with a nod.

“Good. Show me what this gets me.”

You lace your fingers with his, leading him past the other clients staring at your exposed body. The dim red lights compliment the soft velvet couch.

“Make yourself comfortable, I’m y/n.” Your hands spread across his shoulders settling into his lap.

His eyes focus on you, your neck thrown back as your hips grind against his thighs.

“That’s right.” He moans. “Give me That cunt.”

The heat from your core radiates on him, those nails clipping your thong.

“Take it off. Let me see how pretty you are.”

He tugs at your thong and allowing it to slide down your ass.

“You shouldn’t touch the dancers.” You tease in his ear, hand running against his chest along to his shoulders.

“Yeah? Are you going to stop me?” He looks up at you, watching your face as your thumbs separate the hook and eye of your bra.

Your breasts fall in his face, dropping before him which each with each bounce on his lap.

“You keep that up I make have to take control.”

“It’s a dance, that shouldn’t be a problem.” You grab his head, pulling it back, letting you hover over his body once more. “You know I’m right.”

Leaning back to watch him -neck strained and chest following suit- you feel his fingers tucker under your leg, inching closer to your wet cunt.

“We’re just having a simple conversation. You dancing on me. Me finding somewhere to keep my hands. It’s. Simple.”

His finger grazes your folds softly, letting you generate your slick, adapting to his touch as he teases you.

Slow insertion, two fingers stretch your sobbing cunt, gaining a moan and a grin.

“Yeah, Y/n likes that.” His husky voice moans into your exposed skin, teeth piercing your delicate feature as you ride his fingers. “I’m not touching you, remember? You chose to rest on my fingers.”

Those long fingers scissor in your folds, you focusing in on the pressure allowed and less on the base of the song blasting in the other room.

Bouncing on his fingers, you rise from his lap gripping his belt.

“Aww, are you needy?” He smirks, fingers toying with his belt. “I’ll tell you something, a compromise.”

You stand before him, your cunt dripping waiting on his proposal.

“You tell me something. Tell me your name. Tell me your name and I’ll show you my cock.”

He smirks grasping his bulge threatening to spill.

“Sound fair?” He raises his brow. It has been a long time since you had been fucked. Do you pass up the chance to catch up? It’s only one guy, it can’t be too bad to expose your identity, right?

“Mmhmm.” You moan swaying your hips, your dominant hand caressing your clit for your arousal but his entertainment. “It’s Y/n.”

He grabs your hips pulling you closer to him.

“Good girl. Help me baby. I want your help.”

He takes his cock out with ease, pulling you onto him. The pressure of his cock splitting your walls, stretching them to your max has you crying out with oozing pleasure.

He pulls out of you, starting the continuation of a cycle.

“Tell me Baby, what’s your name?” You pant, feeling his cock fill you once more. Those lips bite your neck, he moving closer to your ear.

His sultry hot breath caresses the skin of your lobe.

“I want to scream your name. I want you to know who’s making me feel so good.”

He thrusts a few more times, making you believe he is avoiding your question.

“Kira.”

The simple name from his lips is enough to catch your breath.

The look in his eyes change, the sadistic glint was everything.

“K-Kira?”

“Mmhmm. So pretty.” He thrusts until you until there’s no space between the two of you. ”I think I’ll keep you.”

“Keep me?”

His thrusts are full force, his fingers slide in your mouth.

“Mmhmm. You’ll be my slave. I’m gonna keep you forever. Fuck you, breed you. I’m Kira, and there’s not one thing you can do to stop me.”

His fucks are full force. Dominating. He cups your mouth to stifle your moans. “I have this other girl. Misa.” He watches your eyes roll back. “She gets on my nerves.” His hand releases your mouth to play with your clit. “She. Never. Fucking. Shuts. Up.” With each pause he’s smacking your cunt leaving no space between you. “You feel so good.”

Prolonged moments of Light possessing you with moans and long thrusts of desperation, he grasps you neck without warning.

“So here’s the thing, Topaz or whatever your name is, I’m gonna keep you. I’ve made up my mind.” He thrusts watching the fear develop in your eyes. “You’re coming with me and I’m just gonna fuck you whenever I feel necessary. Maybe even use you with Misa. Regardless, if you don’t comply, I’ll just take of you myself.” His grip focuses on your pressure points as he begins to shake. Is it power or pleasure? “So defenseless. Ha! And I haven’t even showed you the notebook!” His grip tightens and his thrusts are sloppy, when he abruptly stops, his jaw drops as his cock twitches inside you.

He gains his composure moments later, tucking himself back into his pants and stands up.

“Get dressed. We’re leaving.”

“Leaving? I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“I’m not asking. Get up.”

He tugs on your arm throwing a robe over you. “I’m giving you some dignity so they don’t see my cum dripping down your leg. Now hurry up. We have things to discuss.”

#yandere light yagami #light yagami smut #death note yagami light #yagami light #submission