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tosomeonessomeone · 2 months

Text

soaked.

words・ 2.5k /pairings・Bang Chan x reader / genres・fluff / warnings・ none

As you strolled down the familiar streets of your hometown, memories flooded back from your childhood. The laughter, the adventures, and the bond you shared with Christopher Bahng, the leader of Stray Kids, seemed like a distant yet cherished echo.

Christopher, or Chris as you fondly called him, had always been your partner in crime. From building makeshift forts in the backyard to dreaming about conquering the world with your talents, your friendship knew no bounds.

Years had passed since Chris left your small town to pursue his dreams in South Korea. The world had known him as a rising star, a beacon of talent and charisma leading Stray Kids to fame and success. But to you, he was still the same old Chris, the boy with endless dreams and an infectious smile.

You were lounging on your couch, scrolling through your phone when a message pops up.

Chris: Hey, you there?

You: Yeah, what's up?

Chris: I'm back in town for a break. Let's catch up over dinner tonight?

You: Definitely! It's been ages since we hung out. Where do you want to go?

Chris: How about that burger joint we used to love?

You: Sounds good! See you there at 7?

Chris: Perfect! Can't wait to see you!

You grin, excited to see Chris after so long. Memories of your mischievous adventures flood back as you head to the burger joint.

As you arrive, Chris is already there, leaning against the wall, looking as cool as ever.

"Hey, stranger!" you exclaim, approaching him.

He grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Hey, you! Long time no see."

You both settle into a booth, exchanging stories and laughing like old times.

"So, how's life as a K-pop star treating you?" you ask, taking a big bite of your burger.

Chris rolls his eyes playfully. "Oh, you know, the usual. Dance practices, fan meetings, and dodging crazy rumors."

You chuckle. "Must be tough being an international heartthrob."

He shrugs. "Eh, someone's gotta do it."

Throughout dinner, you reminisce about your childhood antics, from building forts to pulling pranks on neighbors.

"Remember the time we tried to skateboard down that steep hill and ended up in the bushes?" Chris laughs, shaking his head.

"How could I forget? We were lucky we didn't break any bones," you reply, laughing along.

As the night wears on, you realize how much you've missed Chris's company. Despite his fame, he's still the same goofball you grew up with.

During dinner, in between bites of burgers and sips of soda, Chris leans in and asks about your life.

"So, what have you been up to, besides stalking me on social media?" he teases, a playful glint in his eyes.

You chuckle, taking a sip of your drink before replying, "Oh, you know, the usual grind. Work, family stuff, trying not to embarrass myself too much."

Chris nods, genuinely interested. "How's work treating you?"

You shrug. "It's been busy, but I can't complain. Pays the bills, you know."

He nods sympathetically before his expression brightens with curiosity. "And what about your family? How's everyone doing?"

You smile, glad to share. "They're good, thanks for asking. Mom's still the same old mom, doting on everyone. Dad's busy with his projects, and my sister's off on her own adventures."

Chris nods along, listening intently. Then, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he leans in a little closer. "So, any special someone in your life? Or are you still single and ready to mingle?"

You roll your eyes, but there's a hint of laughter in your voice. "Oh, you know me, Chris. Still navigating the treacherous waters of singledom."

He laughs, giving you a knowing look. "Well, if you ever need a wingman, you know who to call."

You both share a laugh, the easy banter flowing between you like it always has.

As the conversation continues over dinner, you can't help but inquire about Chris's fellow Stray Kids members.

"So, how are your kids?" you ask, genuinely interested in catching up on his bandmates.

Chris's eyes light up as he talks about each member, sharing anecdotes and updates about their lives and careers. He laughs as he recounts their latest shenanigans during practice and on tour, painting a vivid picture of the bond they share.

"They're all doing great, still causing chaos wherever they go," he chuckles, a fondness evident in his voice.

Then, with a playful smirk, you decide to turn the tables on him. "So, Chris," you begin, raising an eyebrow playfully, "what's the deal with you? Any lucky lady catching your eye these days, or are you still playing the field?"

Chris chuckles, running a hand through his hair before settling back in his seat. "Ah, the eternal question," he quips, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "As for my relationship status, let's just say I'm enjoying the single life for now."

You nod, understanding his stance. Being in the spotlight can undoubtedly complicate matters when it comes to romance.

"And what about all that flirting with fans?" you prod, unable to resist teasing him a bit. "Are you just a professional heartthrob, or is there more to it than meets the eye?"

Chris laughs, his grin widening. "Ah, you caught me," he admits, his tone light but genuine. "Flirting with fans is all part of the game, you know. It's about connecting with them, making them feel special. But at the end of the day, it's all in good fun."

You nod, appreciating his honesty. Being a K-pop idol comes with its own set of rules and expectations, after all.

As the night wears on, you continue to chat, trading stories and laughter until the restaurant begins to empty out around you. Despite the fame and the distance that separates you, tonight feels like old times, a reminder of the enduring bond you share with Chris, your childhood friend turned international superstar.

You and Chris make your way back home after dinner, laughter echoing through the streets, you can't help but marvel at the unexpected turn of events. The rain pours down relentlessly, catching you both off guard, but instead of seeking shelter, you find yourselves caught up in the moment, running through the streets like characters in a romance movie.

"This is insane!" you shout over the sound of the rain, unable to contain your laughter as you splash through puddles.

Chris grins, his eyes alight with exhilaration. "I know, right? Who knew we'd end up in the middle of a monsoon?"

You exchange glances, the sheer absurdity of the situation only adding to the sense of adventure. With each step, the rain pelts down harder, soaking you both to the bone, but neither of you cares. In this moment, nothing else matters except the sheer joy of being alive, of feeling the rain on your skin and the thrill of the unexpected.

As you round a corner, a small awning comes into view, offering temporary refuge from the storm. Without hesitation, you both dart beneath it, breathless and exhilarated, the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

"Wow, that was intense," you gasp, trying to catch your breath as you lean against the wall.

Chris nods, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Tell me about it. Remind me to check the weather forecast next time we decide to go out for dinner."

You both burst into laughter, the shared moment bonding you even closer together. And as you stand there, drenched but deliriously happy, you can't help but feel grateful for the simple joys of friendship and spontaneity.

Chris chuckles, his laughter mingling with the sound of raindrops. "Well, you know what they say about spontaneity."

"Yeah, it definitely keeps life interesting," you reply, glancing up at the darkened sky above.

You glance up at Chris, his features illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. His eyes meet yours, sparking with an intensity you've never seen before, and in that moment, everything else fades away.

Feeling emboldened by the electric energy between you, you reach out and take Chris's hand, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine. Without a word, you continue running through the empty streets, the raindrops falling around you like a symphony of whispers.

As you round a corner, a small square comes into view, the cobblestones slick with rain. The soft strains of music drift through the air, beckoning you closer. With a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, you stop and turn to face Chris.

"Hey, do you want to dance with me?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Chris's eyes widen in surprise, his gaze flickering with uncertainty. But then, a slow smile spreads across his face, and he nods, his hand tightening around yours.

"Absolutely," he replies, his voice low and husky.

Together, you step onto the rain-soaked cobblestones, the world around you fading into a blur of colors and sounds. In this moment, there is only the two of you, moving in perfect harmony to the rhythm of the rain.

As you stand there, laughing, dancing, and soaked to the bone, you can feel the weight of his gaze, the unspoken tension hanging between you like a delicate thread. The air crackles with anticipation, charged with a magnetic energy that draws you closer together with every passing moment.

And then, in a bold and unexpected move, Chris reaches out, his hand finding yours with a gentle urgency. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins, igniting a fire that burns brighter with each heartbeat.

With a wordless understanding, he draws you closer, his body pressed against yours in a dance as old as time. The rain falls around you, a steady rhythm punctuating the silence as you move together in perfect harmony.

His touch is electric, sending shivers racing down your spine as you lose yourself in the heat of the moment. Time seems to stand still as you surrender to the pull of desire, your heart beating in time with his, as you drown in the depths of his gaze.

In that moment, with the rain falling around you and the world spinning madly on, Chris leans in and kisses you. It's not a fleeting touch or a casual gesture – it's a declaration, a moment of raw and unbridled passion that leaves you breathless and wanting more.

His kiss is electric, sending shockwaves coursing through your body as you surrender to the intensity of the moment. Every brush of his lips against yours sets your heart ablaze, igniting a flame that burns brighter with each passing second.

In that stolen moment beneath the stormy sky, you lose yourself in the intoxicating rush of sensation, your senses overwhelmed by the taste of rain and the feel of his touch. It's a moment suspended in time, a glimpse into a world where passion reigns supreme and love knows no bounds.

As the rain continues to fall around you, you cling to each other, lost in the dizzying whirlwind of emotion. And in that moment, with Chris's lips pressed against yours, you know that you've found something worth holding onto, something worth cherishing for eternity.

You both break from the kiss, a shared breathless moment passing between you as you gaze into each other's eyes. The rain continues to fall, a gentle cadence echoing the pounding of your hearts.

Chris's voice breaks the silence, soft but filled with emotion. "Wow," he breathes, his eyes searching yours as if trying to unravel the depths of your soul.

You smile, feeling a rush of warmth and affection wash over you. "Yeah," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "Wow indeed."

There's a tangible energy between you, a connection that defies explanation. It's as if the universe itself has conspired to bring you together in this moment, under the cloak of a stormy sky.

Chris reaches out, his hand finding yours with a tenderness that takes your breath away. "I... I didn't plan for any of this," he admits, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

You squeeze his hand gently, reassuring him with a smile. "Me neither," you confess, feeling the weight of the moment settle between you like a comforting embrace.

For a moment, you simply stand there, lost in each other's gaze, the world fading away around you. In this moment, there are no expectations, no uncertainties – only the shared promise of what could be.

And as you stand there, hand in hand, you know that no matter what the future may hold, you'll face it together, bound by the unbreakable bond of love and possibility.

You can't help but let out a nervous laugh, the tension of the moment giving way to a lightheartedness that feels like a balm to your soul.

You shake your head, still incredulous at the whirlwind of emotions that brought you to this moment. "Who would've thought a rainy night and an life update dinner would lead to... this," you say, gesturing between the two of you with a mixture of disbelief and affection.

Chris smiles, his gaze softening as he looks at you. "Sometimes, life has a way of surprising us when we least expect it," he muses, his tone thoughtful.

You nod in agreement, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over you. "Yeah, I guess it does," you reply, your heart filled with a newfound sense of hope and possibility.

As you stand there, sharing a moment of levity in the midst of the storm, you realize that sometimes, the most beautiful connections are forged in the unlikeliest of circumstances.

Chris breaks the moment with a nervous laugh, his cheeks tinted with a rosy hue. "Um, so... I guess I should probably.. you know.. say something here, huh?"

You chuckle, feeling the warmth of his hand in yours. "Go on, Chris. Lay it on me."

He takes a deep breath, his expression earnest yet endearingly shy. "Okay, here goes. I... I've always admired you, you know? From the moment we met as kids, you've been this constant presence in my life. And tonight, being here with you, dancing in the rain... it just feels right."

Your heart swells at his words, touched by the sincerity in his confession. "Chris, that's... that's really sweet," you reply, unable to suppress the smile that tugs at your lips. "I have to admit, I've always had a soft spot for you too."

He blinks, surprise evident in his eyes. "Wait, really?"

You nod, feeling a surge of courage wash over you. "Yeah, really. I mean, who else would I want to dance in the rain with?"

Chris's laughter fills the air, a melody of joy and relief. "Well, in that case, I guess we're both pretty lucky, huh?"

You nod, feeling a sense of lightness settle over you. "Yeah, I'd say we are."

And as the rain continues to fall around you, you both stand there, hand in hand, sharing a moment of laughter and connection that you know will stay with you long after the storm has passed.

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somnambulic-thing · 2 months

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Long Way Home

Eddie x afab!reader || E, 2k ish

||established relationship, fluff, domestic, smut, intimacy, references to Pet Sematary by Stephen King (talk of burying/resurrecting a body), talk of crawling into somebody/nothing graphic, just nerds in love you know the flavor||

A/N: thank you @bettyfrommars and @allthingsjoeq for keeping me sane(ish) while I overthink shit for way too long. <3

The road ahead seems endless, winding on and on like a river of tar whose rigid monotony makes it feel like you’re hardly moving at all.

Your forehead rests against the cool window while your gaze rests on the Milky Way that peppers the clear night sky with its cool ethereal shine. From the speakers, a calm deep voice tells a story about a zombi cat and other atrocities, giving Eddie’s tired mind something thrilling to focus on while he steers the car through the wee hours of a Monday that will very likely be just as dragging as the long way home from the concert that lies behind you. Behind your eyes, moments of the night keep repeating, filling your chest with that special tingling that’s the euphoria of freshly made memories one never wants to forget. Next to you, something cracks, ripping you out of your thoughts, making you flinch before you turn.

“Fuck, Munson,” you groan. “Was that your neck?”

“Aye,” Eddie chuckles and rubs a knuckle over the bag under his eye while keeping both firmly on the road. You know there are copious amounts of willpower and maybe a little magic at work for him not to slam his foot to the gas to cut the last forty minutes down as much as physics and the engine allow. “M’ afraid I’m slowly decaying here.”

The back of your fingers trace over his cheekbone, his profile a sight to behold even in the dark, even with the night chipping away at him.

“I know a good place to bury you,” you say and his lips twitch as he swiftly glances at you.

“You maybe want to give that a second thought, sweetheart.”

“Ah,” you flick your hand dismissively. “You’ll be as good as new. A little stinky, maybe.”

“Aaaand plenty homicidal,” he laughs and combes a hand through his hair, leaving his bangs a little messy. “You’d do that for me?”

“F’course.”

You twist in your seat and reach into the back, fumbling around in the mess of clothes and snacks until your fingers graze the hard, smooth surface of what you’re looking for while Eddie rewinds the tape.

There’s a hiss as the rim of the bottle cap first bends and then gives way with a pop that synchronizes perfectly with the sharp click the play button makes under his fingertip. You pluck a straw out of an empty Coke bottle and transfer it into the full one and Eddie’s lips are already parted and waiting when you bend over in this well-practiced ritual. Not long and half the liquid is gone. Eddie releases the straw with an ahhh and you nearly choke on a laugh and a sip of your own when a happily belched thanks resounds inside the confined space of the car.

“Shit, keep missing that part,” he huffs and you rewind the tape before he can reach out to do so. “Love you,” he says with a tired smile in his voice and you press play again.

—

The trailer park is quiet. So quiet that the silence feels heavy - almost like a scolding - after Eddie finally turns off the engine; or maybe it’s just the exhaustion pulling on your bones, it’s hard to tell.

Eddie slumps his head against the backrest and groans. A pale sliver of light illuminates the outline of his throat, stretched long and exposed, Adam’s apple moving languidly as he takes a deep deep breath and swallows a yawn.

You decide he deserves a treat, are fairly sure he needs one and so you lean in and trace the tip of your nose to the soft spot below his ear where you place a kiss that makes him shiver and tilt his head to the side; an invitation that never fails to rush your blood up to your cheeks and spread this warmth that he likes to kiss so much.

“More,” he hums, hand patting the air between you in search of your thigh. You lace your fingers together and smile into his skin, taking your time to breathe him in, to fill your head with that rush that is his scent. It’s been a long day and the proof lingers in his hairline, more earthy, laced with smoke and sweat; it’s the smell of adventure and time well spent.

A kiss won’t do. You have to taste him.

Baring teeth, you run the edge along salty skin before you sink them in, stirring a raspy groan that vibrates through his throat. A hand cups the back of your head, fingers twitching when you release him from your jaws, tugging with a sluggish impatience as you lick and kiss the bite to soothe. You comply, follow the quiet plea of heavy arms enveloping you to pull you in close. Knees bump as two rigid, tired bodies twist and shuffle to slot together as much as the interior of the car allows. He buries his face in your shoulder, lets himself sink against you and sighs; a heavy, muffled sound that speaks of the relief of being home.

Now you just have to get inside.

“Now for it! Now for the last gasp!” you quote his favorite Hobbit and wind your fingers into the hair on the back of his neck, your nails raking over his scalp in gentle encouragement.

The warmth of a pressed-out breath seeps through your jumper and travels down your spine. Eddie’s hands follow its trail, fingers flexing on your back to grab two fists full of fabric to hold on to. He turns his head enough to free his mouth from your shoulder.

“If you’re not going to carry me, dear Sam, I’ll need a minute,” he says and presses a kiss to your neck before he hides his face again.

Six hours until both of you have to get up and ready for work but you would give him one full hour if he asked for it.

The exhaustion weighing him down goes deeper than mere tiredness and stiffness of joints, is of that kind that comes after catharsis: two hours of violent drums, screaming guitars and eye-watering bass, of shouting ones heart out in an angry choir of strangers that had been kin for one night, a raging rampart between you and the world, a safe place to come out of hiding and get lost between hot, sweating bodies, to bruise and to be bruised in a collective exorcism that leaves mind and soul raw and sore but oh so light and clear.

It had hit him hard this time.

Your hands wander; fingertips rubbing circles into tense, aching muscles right at the back of his skull where you know a night like hits him hardest. Eddie huffs and sighs as you work your way down his neck until a long deep moan is your sign to pay that spot a little extra attention. It’s nothing short of intoxicating, the way he melts into you, his voice so close to your ear—

…oh fuuuck, right there…

— his hands on a quest of their own, gathering up the fabric on your back until the cool night air amplifies the heat of his palms on your skin. You trace your nose along the side of his face, straining your neck doing so; but not for long. Eddie lifts his head at last, brings your foreheads together, firmly, urgently, and a little groan sneaks in between the puffs of air that tickle on your lower lip; it’s almost a frustrated sound, as if he’s striving to overcome the layers of skin and skull separating him from you. His nails dig in below your shoulder blades, the sting sweet and the scratch even more so when he drags them down the length of your back like he’s using his last strength to claw his way into you.

You tilt your head and kiss him. Slow slow oh so slow is the slide of lips and hands, the teasing of teeth and tongues and soon there is more salt to lap from his hot throat and the hard line of his cock straining inside his pants.

“So,” he breaths heavily into your open mouth, “we gonna rock paper scissors out who’s gonna do the fucking or what?”

It’s more a snort than a laugh that leaves you and then the car is filled with giggles and the rustle of fabric as you peel yourself out of his arms. “Why waste time with three rounds of rock,” you say impatiently wiggling out of your long-car-ride-sweatpants and soaked car-make-out panties, “when we both know you’ll lose with paper anyway.”

“Lies,” he rasps and leans back in his seat. “Slander.”

A soft patch of light reveals hooded black eyes over a waning crescent smile and he palms himself while he watches you undress, hissing at the touch before he hooks his thumbs into both waistbands and shoves with everything he has.

Eddie is still shuffling in his seat when you wrap your hand around him; hot and hard and smooth. He yelps then groans and bites the back of his hand while you slowly slide his foreskin back and your thumb over the tip to spread the wetness waiting for you. “M’ not going to last ten seconds if you p-play with me like that, shiiit,” he grits out between his teeth as his hand wraps around your wrist like a plea for mercy. “Just fuck me, please? Just fuck me.”

His hold on you is desperate; impatient hands pawing and pulling as you climb him with such haste you bump your knee on the door and the steering wheel into your back. Impatient hands turn slow and soft as they move to soothe what's bound to bruise.

“You ok, little monster?”

“Perfect, doc.” You kiss the corner of his mouth, feel it twitch and curl and then part for a sharp breath as you reach down to guide him inside you.

Somewhere in his chest, pleasure and fatigue collide and vacate his lungs as a breathy “F-fuuuck,” that’s the sound of a man saved from certain death. You match it with a moan as you sink further down on him and shudder as he fills this aching, hollow place inside you while his nails leave little crescents on your skin.

“Slow slow slow slow slow…” he chants and drops his head to your shoulder. Softly huffed moans tickle your neck as you take him oh so slowly, pull his hair oh so slightly to make him kiss you oh so messily. He’s pliable, molds himself around your form and clings to you like a thin shirt in a downpour. A familiar heat spreads through your loins and up your belly while the glacial pace starts to burn in your thighs and makes them tremble.

“You close?” he pants, voice strained around the edges.

“Not yet… are you?— aaah—“ impatient hands grab your ass and push you down before he wraps his arms around you to keep you that way - full, oh so full of him it makes you gasp and squirm —

“Yeah,” he says, wet, hot mouth smushed into your cheek. “Need you to come first,” he slides a greedy hand in the tight space between you, “s’ my favorite thing, those little earthquakes inside of you—“

“Oh s-shit—“ you jolt, nerves set ablaze by words and fingers alike.

“Fuckfuckfuck feels like m’ halfway to your soul, just… just fucking grind on me, sweetheart— Christ, yes…”

And so you grind grind grind, keeping him buried oh. so. deep. and with a slight tilt of your hips and Eddie’s thumb on your clit your legs are trembling again.

It’s a desperate tangle of limbs, digging of teeth and nails, his hair in your mouth and your name in his over and over and the soft squeek squeek squeek of the seat that’s sticky against your chins and knees.

It’s not an eruption, when the heat has nowhere to go anymore, but a low, heavy rumble and as soon as the first wave rolls over you, Eddie lets go so you can go under together.

You still tense around his twitching cock when your bodies have ceased the writhing and twitching; the air is filled with dissonant panting and the heavy silence of a night that’s much closer to dawn than to dusk.

Eddie’s lips rest on your pulse, nose smushed against your jaw. No teeth; even the last bite has left him now. His head dips in that tell-tale way and he makes a long, low sound that turns into a yawn.

“Dn’t wanna m’ve…” he mumbles.

“M’neither.”

So you don’t.

Not until his cock is soft and slowly slipping out of you and you’re fuzzy with the promise of deep blue slumber. When your state of undress has been reversed, the mess on the seat smudged somewhere on the back of Eddie’s pants, he leans in for one more kiss.

“Guess y’ can carry me in now.”

general taglist: @bettyfrommars @dr-aculaaa @deathbecomesthem @songforeddiemunson @potthealien2423 @raccoonboywrites @eveybitch @jo-harrington @lunatictardis @skrzydlanka @moonbeamsandmayhem @slutforstabbings @eddieslooneymoonie @chaoticgood-munson @storiesbyrhi @mrsjellymunson @the-unforgivenn

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #Eddie Munson smut #my fic

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howtofightwrite · 2 years

Note

How physically active were actually "medieval" noble women? I know is a long period but I usually see people complaning about noble women in fantasy doing stuff such as hunting or riding horses. I have seen a couple of illustrations of fencing manuals with women in them too.

We, as a culture, especially in the US, have a very bad habit of using the British Regency/Victorian era as the gold standard for how women all over the world were treated throughout history. And the truth is, it ain’t that way. It never was, because women in this exact era used to duel each other in other parts of Europe and often did it topless.

Yes, this is real. We have records of it.

Was it all women, all the time? No. Was it often enough to mention? Yes.

There’s a really good article by Kameron Hurley, “Women Have Always Fought” that goes over the history of women warriors and the laziness of specular fiction in detail. This is a particularly great few paragraphs from the article that covers where our popular conception that women don’t fight comes from.

“Women have always fought,” he said. “Shaka Zulu had an all-female force of fighters. Women have been part of every resistance movement. Women dressed as men and went to war, went to sea, and participated actively in combat for as long as there have been people.”

I had no idea what to say to this. I had been nurtured in the U.S. school system on a steady diet of the Great Men theory of history. History was full of Great Men. I had to take separate Women’s History courses just to learn about what women were doing while all the men were killing each other. It turned out many of them were governing countries and figuring out rather effective methods of birth control that had sweeping ramifications on the makeup of particular states, especially Greece and Rome.

Half the world is full of women, but it’s rare to hear a narrative that doesn’t speak of women as the people who have things done to them instead of the people who do things. More often, women are talked about as a man’s daughter. A man’s wife.

Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?

Check out some of these real women below.

Empress Maude, the daughter of the English King, Henry I, was named her father’s heir after her brother died. While her cousin Stephen stole the throne after her father’s death, she raised an army and took the country into a civil war to take it back. They fought it out for the decade it took for her son to reach adulthood, and laid the groundwork for Henry II to become king. There’s a great novel by Sharon Kay Penman, When Christ and His Saints Slept which chronicles the civil war. If you’re interested in medieval history, I recommend reading it. Her daughter-in-law, Eleanor of Aquitaine, also led an interesting life. (It should be said, real history got to the denied female heir fights for her throne before George R.R. Martin.)

There’s great videos from Xiran Jay Zhao discussing the Chinese warrior queen Fu Hao of the Shang Dynasty and Wu Zetian, who became China’s first female emperor. (Yes, you read that right. Emperor.)

There is Khutulun, the Wrestler Princess and the great-great granddaughter of Gengis Khan, who is one source of our “defeat her in battle to marry her” tropes. She issued this challenge, “defeat her in wrestling, she’ll marry.” She scammed would be suitors out of 10,000 horses. Western male authors are so threatened by Khutulun, they’ve kept trying to rewrite her history by making her fall victim to the power of love. (No, seriously.)

There’s also Hojo Masako, the Buddhist nun who deposed her own son when he proved incompetent and ruled Japan as Shogun. Here’s her wiki entry too.

The Amazons of Greek Myth were real in that they were actual Scythian women who went to war. (As Scythian women did, just like their men.) They terrified and terrorized the Greeks so much, they became immortalized in their mythology. Don’t believe me? Here’s an article from National Geographic and this one from Live Science.

There’s stories like this all throughout history from big events to small ones. (You can find more over at Rejected Princesses if you’re interested.) There are female warriors, female generals, noblewomen who took command of their husbands’ forces, widows who took to the sea to get revenge on those who wronged them, women who rode with their husbands to battle, female assassins, female leaders of rebellions, etc. The women of the Japanese samurai class were trained to fight, and fight they did. Women warriors, queens, and politicians are all over mythology too. You’ll often see these women come out of the upper echelons of society because money creates options, but they are there. Many of those stories are lost to history, in some cases purposefully, and there was a long trend among archeologists that assumed because a person was buried with male grave goods, the body had to be male. We’re now finding out that isn’t true. There’s a significant portion of warrior corpses that have turned out to be female. Assassin’s Creed: Valhalla chose to post a notice about it in response to these exact criticisms you’re questioning.

Those people you see complaining online? They’re clinging to a version of history that doesn’t exist. More, we know it doesn’t, because popular culture is hungry to the point of desperate for aggressive, confident, and competent female characters. If they were truly a lie, they wouldn’t ring true for so many people.

The history we’re taught today largely downplays women’s achievements, contributions, and successes while uplifting those of men. It’s a fact. Go look at famous female figures anywhere, you’ll find the same story at play over and over. Historically, fantasy as a genre largely portrays a world that is, in fact, fantasy, but that fantasy has nothing to do with women doing things they’re not “supposed” to. There’s no clubhouse. There’s nothing unrealistic in imagining your female character is a kickass queen who defeats overconfident men in wrestling competitions and robs them of all their horses. It’s not unrealistic to come up with an ending that doesn’t conclude in tragedy, violent deaths, them “learning their place,” or even locked within the bonds of an unhappy marriage. (Shocker!) Some did, but the truth isn’t universal. It’s not even unrealistic to imagine they might have supportive male family members, love interests, and followers who happily (gasp) assist them in these endeavors. Maude, for reference, had bastard half-brothers who helped her instead of trying to take the throne for themselves.

History got here before fantasy authors. There’s nothing unrealistic about reality. Popular conceptions and common knowledge fed to us by the majority male dominated culture isn’t always the truth. Reality is, it’s the stories we see normalized across the media spectrum that are wrong. The ones that insist women are objects, who commodify their pain, and reframe their stories to ensure the focus remains on men. While this is changing, women are still often treated as the NPCs of male driven stories.

The people you hear complaining? They want storytelling traditions to stay that way, for the Great Man values countless narratives have reinforced to remain unchallenged. Funny as it sounds, they’re threatened by the very existence of narratives that countermand that centralized focus on men being superior, that there is a stratified gender hierarchy, and men taking their place as the sole, worshipful focus of a woman’s existence, much less these female characters being important in their own narratives. If these people weren’t threatened by female characters being people, they wouldn’t say anything. They’d just move on in apathy.

Reality is people are complicated. There’s room for all stripes in all colors and contexts. It’s no secret that history has suppressed and erased countless stories that don’t support the ruling narrative of the dominant culture. These same people forget there’s plenty of storytelling traditions that include women taking their place as warriors in cultures outside America. For all the sexism and misogyny, women fighting is not an alien concept, it’s not even foreign to other Western European traditions.

Believe what your own research is showing you, not what a bunch of idiots who can’t tell their ass from their elbow are whining about. They can’t handle someone who isn’t straight, male, and (most often) white being the central focus. Really, they can’t handle these characters as even a side focus. That’s their loss, it doesn’t have to be yours.

-Michi

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#Michi answers #how to fight write #writing advice #writing reference #writing tips #history

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somekindofpoet · 1 year

Text

Nevermore Grounds

Summary: Reader owns Nevermore Grounds, a Brooklyn coffee shop that Jenna stumbles upon.

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: Language

A/N: @irish-piece-of-trash thanks for the request my friend! Hope you enjoy this one. Also, is there a Raven cameo from The 100 or is she cleverly named Poe reference? I'll let you decide :)

Part II

Nevermore Grounds

It had been your dream for most of your life to own a coffee shop. To create a space that felt like a hazy dream. Somewhere you could retreat to no matter the weather or circumstance. So that is exactly what you did. You went to school and earned your business degree with a minor in dramatic literature for fun.

Thus, Nevermore Grounds was born, tucked away amongst the brownstones of Brooklyn. You had created an atmosphere you never wanted to leave, so you simply did not. You rented the apartment above the shop, ensuring you rarely needed to leave the building if you didn’t want to. The shop had turned into an expression of yourself, with soft leather secondhand furniture, dark bookshelves filled to the brim with every kind of story, and the ever-present smell of espresso grounds.

Many of the people who frequented your shop were college students or young New York transplants, tapping away at their laptops or tucking themselves on the couch in front of the large fireplace to read one of the many books from the shelves. In every season aside from summer, a quiet crackling fire was lit, the lighting was low, and the atmosphere was warm and comfortable. You kept a small staff of four to six, choosing to barista yourself most days. Most of your employees were also college students, rotating out every few years as they graduated and moved away, thanking you for your companionship and easygoing management.

It was a particularly nasty day outside, so you let the two on shift head home early, telling them you’d lock up at the end of the day. Usually, customer traffic died down in the late afternoon, giving you the place to yourself. You still had a few hours until you could lock up, but the place was dead empty, so you grab your dog-eared copy of Salems Lot and curl up in front of the fireplace, content to read until you closed.

You’d read the book many times, but you could always get lost in the tale of the small Maine town haunted by vampires. Your eyes were growing heavy as you read, the gray light outside fading as the sun slowly set over the city. The bells jingling from the front door snapped you out of your Stephen King daze, and you jerk your head up toward the sound. A slight girl and two rather large men were shaking the rain from their shoulders, the girl closing an umbrella as she stepped inside. She picks her head up and looks around, frowning in confusion. You sit up further on the couch, catching her attention.

“Oh, uhm, I’m sorry. I thought this was a bookstore.” Her voice is soft and airy, floating across the room.

You stand and smile, “You thought Nevermore Grounds was the name of a bookstore?”

A bashful smile pulls at her lips as she eyes you, “The Grounds bit was slightly confusing, but I saw the shelves,” she gestures at the overflowing books on the wall, “and figured I’d give it a shot.”

You make your way around the counter toward the cash register, and point up at the menu. “I sell coffee. The books are free.”

You know who she is, you knew the moment she spoke, but you decided not to fan girl and just treat her like you’d never seen her before. She seems to appreciate it because she approaches the counter with an intrigued smile.

“I’ll take a coffee then and a book recommendation if you have that too.”

You glance back at the two men hovering behind her, and she turns to look over her shoulder at them. She turns back to you and shrugs, “They like following me around.”

You raise your eyebrows, playing in to her joke, “I don’t blame them.” You grin at her, your eyes twinkling with mischief, “You want that coffee black? And do they want anything?” You lower your voice to a comedically loud whisper, leaning closer to her over the counter, “Can they speak?”

A surprised smile stretches across her face, showing her teeth and wrinkling her nose. “Only when they smell fear. And I’ll have a latte, actually,” she turns to the men behind her pretending to ignore your conversation, “Billy, Phil, coffee?”

They both light up, their eyes crinkling above their smiles and nodding. She nods once and turns back to you, “Make it three. And the book recommendation?”

You input her charge in the cash register, “That’s six dollars even, Miss…?”

She slides a ten dollar bill across the counter to you, squinting at you, trying to figure out if you’re messing with her or not. You absolutely are, but you’re not going to tell her that.

“It’s Jenna.”

You nod, “Mhm, and there are no bad books here, they’re all great choices really. Just grab one from the shelf, and I guarantee it’ll be the right one.”

“They’re all great? That’s a bold assumption.” She says as she wanders over to the closest shelf, running her fingers along the spines.

You busy yourself making their coffee, watching her when you look up. “I should know, they’re all mine.”

She stops and turns back to you, her fingers resting on the top of a paperback, “All of them?”

You nod, looking back down at your work. You’re focused on the foam art, a recent practice you’d picked up during hours when the shop was slow.

Jenna returns to her exploration, humming now and again as she reads the titles. “So you’ve read all of them?”

You walk two of the lattes to the counter, pushing them toward Billy and Phil, “I think so, unless people leave their books here, which happens sometimes. Those ones I haven’t sorted yet.”

You turn back to finish the foam art on Jenna’s drink, smiling down at the picture you’d created. You pick it up gently and walk it to the counter, setting it down and resting your chin in your hand.

“One latte for Jenna.” You say, smirking at her when she turns toward you.

She leaves the shelves and approaches the counter, pulling the mug over and looking down at the foam. You’d created a rather detailed image of Thing Addams, and she looks up with a playful frown.

“So you do know who I am then.” She says as she lifts the cup and leaves the counter, picking through the wayward furniture to a table close to the fire.

You leave your station to follow her and sit on the arm of the couch. “Of course I do. Does anyone not know who you are?”

She shrugs and sips the coffee, closing her eyes to savor the taste. “This is good.” She sips the coffee again, this time keeping her eyes on you.

“I’m glad you like it, or I might have to change professions.”

“You could audition as an actor, you did pretty well fooling me.” She says over her cup.

“Ah, I love New York too much. Plus, I’ve heard actors can be real divas, you know.”

A snicker draws your attention to the two men sitting a few tables away, they’re listening to you openly now, laughing at Jenna’s expense. She pretends to be affronted, but the smile never leaves her face.

“I like to think I’m pretty humble, thank you very much.”

You laugh and stand, heading over to one of the bookshelves. You pull The Bell Jar down, swiping the dust from its cover.

“Have you read this one?”

She eyes the cover, “Sylvia Plath? Of course I have. Try again.”

You hum, returning the book. Which one to give her, which one? She’s probably read most of them, so you’ll need to dig a bit deeper. Your eyes light up when you find The Song of Achilles, and you bring it to her.

“This one?”

She frowns, looking down at it, and takes it from you. She opens the first page and scans it, flips the book over to look at the back.

“No. I haven’t read this one.”

“I’ll leave you to it then,” you say, returning to your spot on the couch. You crane your neck to look at her, “We close in an hour, by the way.”

She tilts her head at you, “Your boss lets you read on the clock?”

You snort, “Yes, she does. She also looks at me in the mirror when I brush my teeth every morning.”

She stares at you, trying to understand, then her face lights up in realization, “Oh, you own this place!”

“My pride and joy,” you say, opening Salem’s Lot again, grinning at the pages.

You don’t see the small smile on Jenna’s face as she watches you or the raised eyebrows of Billy and Phil as they watch her. You do notice when she gets up half an hour later and leaves her empty mug on the counter, then comes back to curl into the armchair to your left, the book still in her hands. You glance up over your book and watch her eyes racing across the page, spellbound. You return to reading your book, but you’re hyper aware of her, just in your peripherals.

A throat clears behind you, making both of you jump. You twist around to see Billy standing behind the couch, his finger on his watch.

“Ms. Ortega, it’s time.” He says, his voice deep and raspy.

Jenna sighs and slides a napkin into the pages of the book, then looks at you. She lifts the book, “Can I take this?”

“Only if you bring it back.”

She nods, one eyebrow raised, “Smooth.”

You shrug, “I do my best.”

She stands and stretches, looking down at you, “I never got your name.”

You get up off the couch and look at your watch, it’s an hour past closing time. You yawn and make your way to the door, opening it for Billy when he follows you. Jenna crosses her arms expectantly, waiting for you to answer.

“Tell you what,” you say, scratching your head and ruffling your hair, “Come back with my book and I’ll tell you my name.”

“And if I don’t come back?” She challenges.

“Then I’m out a book, and a giant missed opportunity.”

She smirks, accepts your answer, and follows her bodyguards out the door. You lean out of the doorframe, watching them climb into a black town car and give them a small wave as they drive down the street. You turn in and lock the door, pulling the shades closed and heading to the register to close it out. As you’re counting the dollars, the gravity of the scenario you’d just lived out slams into you. You’d just flirted with Jenna Ortega successfully for the last two hours. No one was going to believe this.

——

Two days pass, and your book has yet to be returned. You made a point to be in the coffee shop as often as possible, your eyes are always drawn to the door when it opened. Many faces passed through, but none of them were the one you were hoping for.

One of your long standing employees, Raven, took it upon herself to poke at you endlessly about it. You had relayed the story to her the day after Jenna showed up, and at first, she didn’t believe you. It wasn’t until she’d read an article about the movie Jenna was shooting in Manhattan that she finally accepted you were telling the truth.

“Dude, count your losses, she’s not coming back.” Raven’s voice made you jump, pushing yourself off the counter.

“You’re such a pessimist.” You grumble, grabbing the rag you were using before your daydream and returning to wiping down the wooden bar.

“And you’re entirely too hopeful,” Raven says, laughing softly and shaking her head.

You sigh, “Probably. But a girl can dream.”

You head into the storage closet to return the rag, fumbling around for the light. You end up tripping over the mop handle and fall into the bucket, which is still half full. Everything happened so suddenly all you can do is sit in the bucket, your butt soaking wet, and reevaluate your life choices. You consider getting angry and scolding your employees about the importance of cleanliness and organization until you remember you were the one who left the bucket half full and the mop haphazardly strewn to the side.

When you finally pull yourself together, you realize you’re stuck. You close your eyes and inhale deeply. Of fucking course, your ass is stuck in the mop bucket. Why wouldn’t it be? You were always so lucky. You squirm around trying to find purchase on anything but just end up rolling the bucket around the room, your feet unable to reach the floor. You slump, giving up, and scoot toward the door.

“Raven!”

“Uh, kinda busy boss!”

“Raven seriously, right now!”

“We have a customer!”

“Tell them I’m very sorry, but your boss is currently stuck in a FUCKING MOP BUCKET!”

“Oh I don’t think you want to tell them that…”

“Raven!” You throw your hands up, desperate for her help.

You hear footsteps approaching the closet and sigh in relief.

“It’s about time dude, help m-“

Your words are cut off as you see who’s come to your aid. It’s not Raven, that’s for sure. You hide your face in your hands as your savior barks out a hard, genuine laugh. Just your luck. The day Jenna comes back, she finds you stuck in a bucket. You think maybe you’ll find whatever god has cursed you and fight them to the death. Raven pops up over Jenna’s shoulder, a pained smile on her face. You shoot her a ‘what the fuck’ look, and she throws her hands up, shrugging and gesturing at Jenna.

“I know this must be truly hilarious, but would one of you please get me out of this damn bucket?!”

You figure since your pride has dissolved in the soapy water under your butt, you may as well resort to begging for help. You reach both hands out, and Jenna takes one, Raven the other. They pull, finally dislodging you. As you begin to wiggle out, the bucket tips forward, sending you sprawling onto the floor, the mop water dumped on your body. They let go of your hands and begin laughing uncontrollably, both bent over, their legs weak from their giggling. You remain on the floor, questioning the universe and wondering what you’d done to deserve this.

You roll onto your back, any pretense of being cool long gone. “I’m glad you’re both getting such a kick out of this.”

Jenna composes herself first and holds her hand out for you. You take it, and she helps you to your feet. Raven has abandoned the bar, flopping onto the couch, tears running down her cheeks. You finally see Billy and Phil perched at a small table, drinking their coffees and chatting happily. The rest of the shop is empty, due to the hour. Jenna’s hand is hovering near you like she’s unsure if you need her to steady you. You glance down at it, then back to her, blowing your hair out of your face.

Her brows furrow in a mixture of amusement and concern, “Are you okay?”

You laugh and shake your head, “My pride has been mortally wounded. Other than that, I think I’ll be fine.”

Jenna smiles, nodding, “I brought your book back.”

“Did you like it?” You ask her, trying to hide the hope in your tone.

“I loved it, you were right, it was great.” She says, making her way out from behind the bar and to her purse on a chair near the fireplace.

She holds it up, showing you it’s been returned safely, and places it back on the shelf. You look down at your soaking wet clothes, dripping onto the floor. You look back up at her, she’s waiting for you to keep your promise from the other night.

“I’m going to go change, and when I come back, I’ll fill my end of the bargain. And give you another book if you want one.”

She raises an eyebrow but nods intrigued. She sits in the armchair she had been in the other night and makes herself comfortable.

“Hey Ray,” you call out, “can you make Jenna her coffee? And an extra for me, please, the usual.”

Raven drags herself off the couch and salutes you, “Right away, fearless leader.”

You roll your eyes and head to the back of the shop, where the door to your apartment is. You quickly change into dry clothes and hurry back down the stairs, eager to spend more time with Jenna. When you open the door to the coffee shop, Raven is perched on the bar, talking animatedly. The smallest shiver of anxiety passes through you, who knew what horrors Raven had told Jenna. Then again, she had just pulled you out of a mop bucket, so things probably couldn’t get worse. Probably.

Jenna smiles up at you when she catches sight of you, and you can tell Raven has told her something you’re not going to appreciate.

“Raven was just telling me about your recent interest in watching your front door,” Jenna says, her tone poking fun at you.

You cross your arms and shoot a glare over to Raven, who yelps and rolls off the bar and behind the counter.

“Oh, was she now?” You say, flopping onto the couch.

Jenna laughs, and Raven pops her head from behind the bar. “See, what had happened was I’m a great wingman and figured she should know that you’re a useless lesbian who-“

You twist around on the couch, throwing one arm out, your eyes wide in horror, “Ray what the fuck!”

Raven sinks back below the bar, her fingers slipping off it as she hides from you. You turn back to Jenna, your cheeks burning. She’s leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, her chin resting on her fist. She’s smirking, her eyes burning into you, making you pull at your collar to let out some heat.

“She is a good wingman,” Jenna says, her eyes glinting.

You run your hand over your face, mortified. “She’s a menace, I’m sorry if any of this makes you uncomfortable.”

“If it made me uncomfortable, I wouldn’t have stayed,” she says matter of factly.

Her eyes are still on you, evaluating something you don’t quite comprehend yet. She seems to make up her mind on something and leans back in the armchair, her hands on her knees.

“Do you want to go out with me?”

You raise an eyebrow, curious, “Sure, where?”

She laughs, shaking her head, “No, like, on a date. Would you go on a date with me?”

Your jaw falls open, and you freeze. Your brain has short-circuited, and you can’t for the life of you figure out how to do anything but stare at her in awe. Her smile begins to falter, and the quickest flash of worry crosses her face.

“If you don’t want to, that’s oka-“

“Are you kidding me I’d love to!” You finally begin processing information again and shoot up off the couch.

You reach your hand down to her, offering to help her off the armchair. She looks at your hand, confused, and looks up at you. You realize she hadn’t meant right at this moment but lean into it.

“Let’s go.” You tell her, your hand still outstretched.

“Don’t you have to work?” She asks, her eyes darting across your face.

“My shop, remember? Plus, my menace of a wingman can lock up, can’t you Ray? Unless you have something else going on this evening?”

Jenna shakes her head and takes your hand. She doesn’t drop it when she stands but interlaces your fingers. It’s a gesture so intimate for someone who was basically a stranger, but it doesn’t bother you.

“Have you ever walked the High Line?” You ask her, grinning.

Dates in NYC were your specialty, and you knew she’d love it. When she shakes her head no, the decision is made. You look over to her bodyguards and whistle at them.

“Hey boys, there’s enough of me to go around, let’s go on the world's weirdest date!”

Jenna lets go of your hand and tsks, slapping your shoulder with the back of her hand. You are in rare form, recovered from the embarrassment of earlier and riding a high. You’d show her a great time in NYC if it were the last thing you did.

——

The bodyguards were courteous and trailed along far enough behind the two of you that you almost forgot they were there. The High Line is a 1.5-mile elevated park lined with gardens and murals, and stunning views of the city. Jenna loves it, as you knew she would. She walks with shocking ease in her high heels, her eyes wide and absorbing everything the city has to show her. While you walk and take in the surroundings, you talk, getting to know each other better.

You learn that she prefers New York over Hollywood and that she always wished she could move there. You tell her about the coffee shop and getting your degree at NYU. She talks about the movie shes filming and how much fun she’s having with her cast.

When you reach the elevator that will take you off the High Line above Chelsea Market, you pull her toward it. “I have to show you this place,” you skid to a halt, turning to her, “You do like tacos, right?”

She gives you a deadpan stare, pursing her lips. She doesn’t need to answer, her face is enough. You give her an awkward smile realizing it was a stupid question.

“Right,” you say, “Latina from California…well this place is something different. Its Japanese inspired tacos, one of my favorite places.”

You pull her through Chelsea Market, Billy and Phil closer to your sides, keeping the crowds away. People recognized her, but most of the locals ignored the two of you. Celebrities were nothing new in Manhattan, so most people would stare and then go about their business. You buy her dinner, and the conversation between you is easy and endless. It felt like you had known her forever. When you leave Chelsea Market, Billy taps his watch, his eyebrows raised.

Jenna nods at him and turns to you, “I have to go, but I had a great time with you today.”

You sigh, smiling and nodding your head, “I wish you didn’t, but I get it. Jenna Ortega is in high demand these days.”

She laughs and holds her hand out, “Give me your phone.”

You hand it over with no hesitation and watch her as she types away, her tongue poking out between her lips as she focuses. She hands it back to you, her name in your contact list. Butterflies explode into your stomach as you absorb the information. You look up at her, gaping.

“Text me, okay?” She says, stepping closer to you.

You nod, unable to speak. She leans in and kisses you gently, her hands pulling at your waist. You take far too long to register, and she’s already pulling back when you find the brainpower to reciprocate. You reach out and pull her back in, kissing her, taking her by surprise. She laughs, her teeth brushing your bottom lip. Billy clears his throat, and she leans back, waving him off.

“I’m serious,” she says, still inches from your face, “text me.”

You smile, “You couldn't keep me from it if you tried.” You peek over her shoulder at Billy and Phil, “Not even your personal beefcakes could stop me.”

Billy barks out a laugh at you shaking his head. Jenna laughs, too, rolling her eyes.

“Next date is on me. I’ll see you soon.” She blows you a kiss and walks off, disappearing into the crowded sidewalk.

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #vada cavell #tara carpenter #lorraine day #phoebe atwell

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withahappyrefrain · 1 month

Note

for those smutty prompts you reblogged ☺️ 29, which also goes pretty well with 7 too 💁🏼‍♀️

They do and they fit Birdie and Roo very well!

Warnings: Bradley's hands, reader has a nickname (no appearance described), smut, mentions of insecurities, did I mention Bradley's hands?

You should've noticed it earlier. Any other time when you weren't at your job, when you didn't have to be a professional.

But when Bradley went to give one of your students a high five, the stark juxtaposition of his hand compared to an eight year old's was astounding.

They were huge.

You wanted to entwine your hand with his, to feel his calloused fingertips. You wanted to feel them all over your body, particularly your throat.

But you were at your job. He was here to talk about his job for Career Day, filling in for a last minute cancellation.

So instead, you cleared your throat, "Let's give a big thank you to Mr. Bradshaw for coming in!"

Your professionalism nearly faltered when his hand laid itself on your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze.

"I'll see you later?" Bradley whispered, brown eyes full of hope.

One could see your quiet nod as a way to not draw attention to the interaction.

But you knew the truth. It was to keep yourself from saying something highly inappropriate in front of twenty third graders.

After your illy-timed revelation, it felt like the universe was doing everything within it's power to draw attention to Bradley's hands.

When you came home, you found Bradley in your kitchen, long fingers splayed out across one of your cabinets as his other hand worked to tighten a screw. His brows were knitted together in concentration, the tip of his pink tongue sticking out between his teeth as he focused.

His sweet brown eyes lit up when he saw you at the doorway of the kitchen.

"You'd think for how much your landlord charges, they'd have the decency to make sure all the screws are on tight."

It was such a sweet gesture. You hadn't mentioned it at all, meaning he must have noticed it himself. He took the time to grab his toolbox, bring it over here, and begin fixing it himself.

And all you could do was stare at his hands.

"Birdie? You okay?" His question broke you out of your trance.

"Oh yeah! Thanks Roo," you quickly kissed his warm cheek before excusing yourself to change.

This was bad. It was too early in the relationship to say something. You two had only slept together a handful of times. You still fucked in missionary there was no way you could ask him to choke you.

And what if he wasn't into that? What if he thought it was weird? Wouldn't be the first guy. But the difference now was that you really liked Bradley. You could see a future with him and he felt the same way.

The last thing you needed was to make him run for the hills.

So when you went into the kitchen after changing, you focused on reheating leftovers. Not the way Bradley was playing with Ladybug in the living room, those God damn hands scratching the dog's belly much to her delight.

This plan was going pretty well, until you felt large palms skimming across your bare thighs, a broad chest pressed against your back.

"Are those new?" Bradley asked, referring to the soft lounge shorts you had on.

"Uh yeah. They were on sale so I decided to treat myself," you quietly explained. God, his hands covered so much of your flesh. The way they gently kneaded the soft muscle of your thighs was heavenly combined with the hairs of his mustache brushing against your neck.

"D-do you like them?" Your voice was shaky, though it was an honest question. Okay, maybe you were trying to distract yourself again because thinking of the least attractive thing wasn't taking your mind off the way his fingers had slipped underneath the hem of your shorts.

Usually thinking of the way Stephen King wrote female characters always did trick. At least it did until Bradley Bradshaw came along.

"Love 'em. Love when you show off your thighs," he rasps in your ear.

"Really?" It was never a body part you noticed. In fact, you tried not to think about your thighs and the stretch marks that danced along the skin there or how much space they took up when you sat down.

Bradley nods before placing a soft kiss on your cheek, "Yeah. Don't get me wrong, I love everything about you Birdie."

His declaration makes your heart flutter.

"Guess I've always been a thigh guy? But yeah, your's are pretty damn amazing." You don't have to turn around, the small chuckle he lets out at the end indicates he's flustered.

When you turn around, you're met with rosy cheeks and bashful eyes. Bradley ducks his head into the crook of your neck, placing small kisses along your jawline.

His admission makes you feel at ease, your worries melting away. Your hands find his, several of your fingers wrapping around only one of his.

"I...I like your hands. A lot," you admit.

Bradley's mouth stills, "Really?"

You giggle, "Yeah. Like how big they are. Like how they feel when I hold them."

His mouth moves upward, now against the shell of your ear, "Saw you looking at them earlier. Is that all you were thinking about? Holding them?"

You could say yes and Bradley will drop it. He's had his suspicions about you, that there was more than you lead on when it came to the bedroom. Little things here and there have led him to believe it, as well as that you needed someone to open that door for you.

"I...." You took a deep breath, "I like how your fingers feel inside of me. And....I want to know how they'd feel around my throat."

The groan Bradley let out was gutteral, causing your thighs to clench.

"Jesus fucking Christ Birdie." For a brief moment, anxiety raced through your mind. You had messed up, had gone too far.

But then Bradley's mouth crashed against yours, his hands gripping the backs of your thighs as he picked you up. While the sudden show of strength made your head spin, it was feeling his erection that made you wonder why you worried in the first place.

Once you were placed on the counter, Bradley's hands trailed up your body, squeezing and kneading your soft flesh. His fingers reminded you that you had opted to go braless when you changed, the deft digits paying particularly close attention to your breasts.

All you could do was hold on, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. Before you could even mark up that pretty neck of his, Bradley's hand found yours. His fingers spanned the entirety of your throat.

The grip he had on your neck forced you to look up, allowing Bradley's lips to crash against yours. It was dizzying, how small he made you feel.

Then his hand pressed against your throat and you were a goner. Broken moans filled your kitchen, your hips rutting against Bradley's in a feeble attempt to get more of him.

His other hand slipped past the waistband of your shorts, your body arching into his when his fingers skimmed the thin fabric of your panties.

You loved his touch. You were pretty sure you loved him too but that was a future you problem.

And all too soon, it was gone- his hand around your throat, the other rubbing your clothed core.

If it weren't for the cloud of anxiety beginning to form in your brain, you may have been able to say something witty, like taking it back to the bedroom. But that would require your brain to not jump to the worst conclusion, such as Bradley realizing how weird it was to be obsessed with hands.

Before you could say anything, Bradley dropped to his knees, now at eye level with your lap.

His long fingers trailed up your legs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. They finally stopped at the waistband of your shorts.

Shit.

Yes, you knew Bradley was coming over. God, you even had the chance to change into something more appealing than the plain underwear that could only be described as 'granny panties'. And yet, it completely slipped your mind that perhaps you and Bradley would be doing something more intimate this evening.

Alright, that was a lie. You had been hoping that would be the case, but expecting it would be rude.

So you went to apologize, like you always did. Apologize for not being sexy enough, thoughtful enough, not considerate enough-

Bradley's mouth silenced you as soon as it latched onto one of your bare thighs. Your fingers found his sun kissed hair, clinging onto the roots to stay somewhat stable, which was extremely difficult considering the attention Bradley was giving to your thighs.

You thought he would give them a kiss or two, maybe a bite and then move on.

Instead, Bradley had developed an unpredictable pattern when it came to your thighs. A bite here, sometimes followed by his tongue lapping over the mark, other times his lips pressing open mouthed kisses over your skin.

It was nice. Borderline unusual, considering those you dated in the past hardly spent anytime on one specific body part. Was he doing this because of your unappealing underwear?

No. Bradley said he liked-no-loved your thighs. And Bradley Bradshaw actually meant what he said.

The seed of doubt that had tried to grow in your mind withered away with each kiss, with each love bite and mark he placed on your thighs. With every action done by his stupidly talented mouth, worries about what you were wearing faded away.

Instead, you could just enjoy the insanely attractive man who was in between your legs.

God, he was so fucking hot. In such a short time, he had mastered your body, knowing the perfect amount of pressure when he sunk his teeth into your skin. His fingers gripped your soft flesh, hard enough to leave hand-shaped bruises but soft enough to still be pleasurable.

Tension melted off your body. Your head lolled back, mind focused on how enjoyable it was-

Oh.

This is what it was supposed to be like all along, wasn't it?

"Birdie? You okay baby?" When you opened your eyes, Bradley was at eye level with you.

You could only let out a confused huh.

"You stopped making those cute noises." He thought those were cute? You had been trying to hold back, not wanting to be too loud.

Maybe you should be louder.

"Yeah, sorry, I was just enjoying myself," you said sheepishly.

Bradley shook his head, "Nothing you have to apologize for."

When you looked up, he was giving you that earnest smile that made your heart flutter.

It's that exact smile that gives you the courage to learn forward and kiss him, trying to pour as much passion as one can with one simple action.

Your body arches into his, fingers weaving through those soft curls.

One of Bradley's hands snaked down your body, going past the waistband of your panties. A jolt of electricity went up your spine upon feeling his fingers brush against your soaked core.

When his fingers traced over your entrance, you didn't hold back.

Which was great for Bradley, as the desperate moan you let out made his cock twitch.

Of course his fingers were quick and talented, considering his job. You just never considered how it would translate to the bedroom (or kitchen in this case). The first time he thrusted his fingers inside of you, you thought it was a fluke. It had been ages since someone had touched you, which explained why you came so quickly.

But now? You knew better.

Your small kitchen was quickly filled with the sounds of your moans and heavy breathing. Each time his fingers stroked that one spot, you saw stars behinds your eyelids.

How did he find it so quickly?

When his thumb reached up to draw circles on your clit, all you could say was his name over and over again.

Your head felt like cotton, but in a good way. Maybe he could feel the heat radiating off of your body, but for once you didn't care. A particularly hard yank of his locks earned you a low, guttural growl from Bradley, making your walls clench around his fingers.

His free hand quickly found the sides of your neck, squeezing just enough to make a broken wail fall from your lips.

You were fucking gorgeous like this, ears teary from pleasure, lips parted. Bradley had a strong feeling there was more than what you had initially shown him. But that strong wall of reservation had broken down over time. Seeing you like this was nearly enough to make him cum right then and there.

"Br-Bradley," you barely got out, as he changed the angle of his hand, his fingers now able to thrust deeper inside you. Fuck, were you hearing yourself? Did he make you that wet?

It was absolutely certain.

"Yeah?" His voice was smooth like honeyed wine, "You gonna come for Mrs. Bradshaw?"

Fuck.

All at once it hit you like a tidal wave. Your hips jerked erratically, desperate to get as much of his fingers as possible, trying to ride out the wave as much as possible.

Thank god he didn't stop. You were addicted to the pure bliss that was running through your veins. No worries, seeds of doubt miles away. All you could focus on was the gorgeous man in front of you who was making you see stars.

You could process what he said later.

For now, you just rode it out.

"So fucking pretty like this," He rasped in your ear, fingers continuing their ministrations, "Y'know that?" All you could do was weakly nod, sensitivity beginning to overtake your body as you were pulled back to that pleasurable edge.

"Yeah, you're my pretty girl. All mine." The declaration made your head spin.

"A-All yours-Bradley!"

This time when you came, your hands clutched the soft fabric of his shirt, clinging onto him for dear life. Second orgasms were really a thing? You always thought that your inability to experience it in the past indicated that something was wrong with you.

You were beginning to learn the problem wasn't always you.

When he pulled out, his arms wrapped around your back, pulling you in for a hug. Bradley quietly rocked you back and forth, pressing soft kisses to your temple.

"You good Birdie girl?" He asked, the smile evident in his voice.

You nodded, a dozy grin appearing on your face, "Yeah I just-wow. Never came twice before. Thought it was a myth or something."

"I think you've just been with shit people," Bradley stated, feeling comfortable enough to finally address it.

"I think you're right," your arms around his waist and your head settled against his chest.

"I-sorry about what I said earlier," Bradley muttered.

Oh yeah. That was something to talk about.

"The Mrs. Bradshaw thing?" you asked.

Heat rushed to Bradley's cheeks as he rubbed a hand against the back of his neck, "Yeah....I'm sorry if that weirded you out. You were just really pretty-I mean you're always pretty-"

"It's not the first time you've called me that." You felt calm talking about it. Part of that was seeing Bradley visibly nervous.

You did what you would have wanted someone to do. You take his hands into yours, giving them a gentle squeeze as you looked up at him with a soft smile.

"I mean it. I don't mind at all. It was actually....sweet but also kinda hot," you admitted, feeling heat rise to your face.

Bradley raised an eyebrow, "Oh really?"

You playfully rolled your eyes, "Oh God are you going to use this against me?"

"Absolutely I am." Before you could even protest, Bradley had already picked you up.

"C'mon Mrs. Bradshaw, I'm far from done with you."

#ask #my writing #bradley and Birdie #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradsaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster top gun #bradley rooster x reader #bradley rooster x y/n #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster x y/n #bradley x reader #top gun maverick

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emilio-the-dumb-wrestler · 1 month

Text

Stephen was the above average joe. Muscular. Huge package. Standing at 6’4”. When he walked into a room people stopped and stared looking a the muscled specimen that heaved the room. And with large size 16 feet you could hear him coming too.

Stephen had a perfect life but where someone is so perfect there has to be a downfall. Stephen’s was that he always took advantage of those close to him. He was able to be so muscular and hot spending all his time in the gym and never once helping his boyfriend, Matt, pay for rent. He was a leach. Every night he would come home dripping sweat. Kick off his massive shoes leaving them where they fell. He would drop his dirty sweat clothes in the hall way and never clean after himself. Then while still dropping sweat, flop down on the couch. Staining even more than what he already has. But it was time. And his boyfriend had had enough.

While Stephen fell asleep like he always did on the couch, his boyfriend still in front of him with a menacing glance. Holding the book he had from his family he began to chant the spell to make Stephen change.

Stephen was dreaming about plowing the hot gym bunny. Bending him over the sink and thrusting himself in. And all the while began to scream while he was having sex …

“….and this vessel must change to meet this new form!” His boy friend finished reading. And then he seen the fine print,,, there had to be an agreement from the one the spell was going to effect. He began to panic. How would he get Stephen to agree to…”YES YES ! FUCK ME !!!” Matt’s mouth dropped. How could this have happened in a more perfect moment. Stepping back slowly he hid the book. Now. Watching as his boyfriend began to change.

Soon Stephen’s well defined abs began to push outwards. His legs began to get fuller and he also began to shrink in height. His pecs quickly lost all definition as they were hidden under a thick layer of fat and his stomach continued to balloon out warden. Hair began to sprout from ever office of his body giving him in a thick coat of fur. His feet got shorter becoming a size of extremely wide and thick size 11s. He had little sausage toes now while his fingers fattened up. His butt began to inflate and sag as it widened and his back began to grow wide to match. A thick unkempt beard began to grow out of his face while he started balding. What was once a hunk before now looked like an out of shape 45 year old man. Matt smiled at his creation. Knowing that there was more to come.

Matt woke up to screams from the living room. Walking in he seen Stephen looking at his phone and trembling. “What the fuck has happened to me !!” Matt asked him. What he was talking about. All a part of his plan to make Stephen lose his mind. He was going to treat Stephen like the fat older man he was now. Even though he was the only other person in the world now that would remember what he is really supposed to be like. “Phen. You need to stop acting weird. It’s time for you to go to work. I wasn’t able to wash your janitor uniform though. “ Stephen just looked at him. Whatever happened seemed to have changed reality he thought. He had to get out of there. And sadly. It seems as though the dirty uniform was the only thing that would fit him. Before he left the apartment Matt handed him some pills “don’t forget your pills Phen. You know you need your heart meds and that cholesterol needs to come down. Try not to eat those 4 double cheeseburger for lunch again” he said as he kissed Stephen’s fatter face.

Work was hard for Stephen. He found that at his new size and short let height he was screed on all aspects of life now. He was the lowly janitor of the gym he worked at ! And people would just throw dirty clothes on him and expect him to always be at their whim for cleaning. During his lunch break he wanted to find a way to fix this. He had to get his old body back ! But then he caught glimpse of it. The burger signs. And drawn by an impossible force he walked over. Walking through the doors he was greeted by the cashier. Working his wallet out of his pocket with his meaty hands he paid for his food. 5 double cheeseburgers. And he ate ever bite. Licking the grease from the wrappers and his fingers. He was forced by some unseen force to be the fat animal he looked like. Walking back home he could help but feel winded. His lunch should have. Been enough to make him feel full for days but his stomach was growling like an angry bear. He felt so tired. As he walked through the apartment door he shuffled his wide feet down the hallway and looking in the mirror began to cry.

Somehow during the day he had gotten older. And much bigger. What little muscle definition he had was completely gone. Now his stomach was rock hard and protruding in an impossible beach ball stomach. Completely bald with white facial hair. Matt came around the corner and Stephen cried. He pleaded for Matt to remember him. “Phen. Are you ok? I know you’re jealous of my youth. But we’ve talked about this. You’re a 61 year old man. You have to come to terms with that!” And he walked off. That number reverberated in Stephen’s head.

Walking around the beach no was no longer fun for Stephen. He was getting looks now but not for his hot young body. It was for the massive beach ball he carried. He had been stuck like this for a whole month at this point. Continuing to try to find a way to change back there just has to be one. Matt came walking up to him with food. “You know one day. I’m going to stop giving into her hunger. We gotta find someway to get you. Lose weight Phen”. Phen aggressively at the multiple cheese burgers, fries and shake that Matt had brought him. Matt watched his creation. Everything from that night with spell had come true. An intense appetite that never went away, old age, massive bloated stomach with no muscle definition, and all the pains that would come with his body being like this. He knew that Phen was trying to find a way back. To get his old body back so he could be happy. But little did he know, that the Matt altered the working of the spell. “And when you agree to this the changes will be permanent”.

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mcflymemes · 1 month

Text

PROMPTS FROM LIFE IS STRANGE, SEASON 1 * assorted dialogue, suggested by ismelodrama, adjust as necessary

everything is a picture waiting for be taken.

you're just jealous of me because i actually do the things you can't.

are you hiding something?

i'm sick of your disrespect. tell me the truth!

i don't want to fight with you anymore. i don't want to fight with anyone anymore.

i was eating those beans!

how the hell did you know about that photo?

always take the shot. my number one rule of photography.

you just don't listen, do you?

there's something weird going on with you.

you've only been here for three weeks and you're already causing conflict.

after this week, you are certainly not a little kid anymore.

not now. i'm contemplating shit.

are you fucking kidding me? this is major bullshit!

i didn't have all the evidence at the time.

we all make decisions we regret.

i'm not gonna make any excuses for my behavior.

i'd put stephen hawking against picasso any day.

it sucks to be dragged into the spotlight.

nobody believes me anyway.

you're exactly the kind of soldier i'd want by my side in a war.

why the hell not?

i almost asked you to hang out.

you should have asked me.

maybe we're too much alike.

i don't believe anything you say. you're full of shit.

eat a dick, [name].

i'll be in the tardis getting my delorean ready.

since you're the mysterious superhero... i'll be your faithful chauffeur and companion.

you don't know who the fuck i am or who you're messing around with.

where'd you get that? what are you doing? come on, put that thing down!

don't ever tell me what to do! i'm so sick of people trying to control me!

so you can't help me?

i told you before that i'll always believe you.

i may be a pest but... i'm a good listener.

you're the bravest person i've ever known.

for every action, there's a reaction.

i'm trying. but you have to understand my position.

i know i can be a pain in the ass... and you've always treated me like a person, not a beta nerd.

why do you want all your friends to die?

oh i see. i'm not important to you anymore.

nobody lectures me. everybody tries though.

do not analyze me! i pay people for that.

hey, that's total slander!

you don't know shit about my father, or me.

you're all fucked!

everybody hates me.

[name]... it's me. i just wanted to say i'm sorry.

i truly am sorry for being such a bastard.

you would have been cool to hang out with.

you might as well choose me.

i'm not perfect, okay?

you have talent, [name].

you don't have to push people out of your way.

thanks for admitting again that i have some talent.

do you think it's, like, fate we're not supposed to be friends?

nobody says we have to be friends.

everybody lies. no exceptions.

i came for all of you.

i'm in a nightmare and i can't wake up.

no wonder they call it a "web." nothing can ever get out.

i wish i could go back in time and erase everything.

just tell me you do have the photograph.

now shut up and listen.

i'm not a real scientist.

i was just happy just being your friend.

[name], i'm so sorry you had to go through all that.

i don't think i can concentrate on going out to the movies.

everybody pretends to care until they don't.

even angels need angels, [name].

i might be naive, but i feel their struggle.

why did you stop me from jumping?

this shit pit has taken everyone i've ever loved.

when a door closes, a window opens... or something like that.

i keep going back in time.

how could there be a more important moment in history?

thank you for trusting me.

hey... be careful out there.

what kind of friend are you?

you never understood me, or what happened to me.

i'll always be alone, thanks to you.

just in case we don't get out of this...

i'm going to make the right choices from now on.

i've been feeling like this might be actually the end of the world.

i hate to say that i'm glad to see you, but i'm glad to see you.

i wish i could stay in this moment forever... but then it wouldn't be a moment.

if that tornado came right now, i would just sit here and watch for a while.

i just feel like escaping.

i have total faith that you'll do the right thing when the time comes.

with great power comes great bullshit.

am i pushing myself too hard?

you like to hurt people, huh?

i'm glad you decided to escort me.

i know this is a bad time, but can i get one picture?

of course i believe you. you're the most amazing person i've ever met, and i'm glad you trust me.

i don't have a fucking clue what's going on.

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vickiee-mcmuffin · 6 months

Text

It's always been you

Word count: 3.8k

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Female Reader

Trope: Explicit Smut, Age gap (18+ Warning, Minors DNI)

A/N: Here's one of my old fics which is one of my favs. I've added some extra bits to the smut, so enjoy ;)

Summary: You're in a relationship with a guy called Luke after you were too scared to tell Stephen how you really felt about him. But one night, one thing leads to another when you go and talk to Stephen at the Sanctum.

When you first arrived at Kamar Taj almost a year ago, it was Doctor Stephen Strange that you first met out of everyone. He was one of the masters there, after all, and despite that – you had fallen for him. Sometimes it felt like more than a crush, though, especially since you and Stephen grew closer and closer as time went by. You always assumed your crush would lead nowhere and you’d get over him, because there were days when you thought nothing would happen with you and Stephen. He was older than you; you were a good twenty years younger than him. Eventually, you decided to just date a guy who seemed a bit more attainable. That was when you met Luke. He was around your age, and you hoped that being with him would diminish the crush you had on Stephen – even though you were going to stay best friends with him.

But it didn’t take you long to realise that Luke wasn’t the man for you. He wasn’t always the best boyfriend. He seemed to only care about himself and his own pleasure, and it quickly got to you. There were days when it seemed like Stephen would listen to you more than your own boyfriend would. And whenever you told Stephen about your problems with Luke, he would always be so kind and caring.

And it was then that you realised that you loved Stephen. But fear got the best of you, and you weren’t ready to tell him the truth. You were convinced he didn’t even feel the same way back, anyway. Part of you was also scared to tell Luke that you wanted to end things. What if he freaked out and got angry?

You were officially stuck between a rock and a hard place.

******

It was early one evening and you found yourself laying on Luke’s bed. He wouldn’t even look at you, though. His eyes were stuck on his phone. As usual, he was paying no attention to you. But you were over it. If you were going to be with him, he would have to start acting like an actual boyfriend.

“Can you please just put your phone down and come cuddle with me?” you asked with a little pout.

But Luke said nothing. Whatever was on his phone seemed much more important.

“Luke,” you tried again. “Please just come cuddle with me.”

Luke grunted and rolled his eyes. “I heard you the first time, Y/N. I’m busy right now.”

“You barely ever give me any attention,” you said quietly. “It makes me upset. You’re always on your phone, talking to other people, when I’m right there.”

“Well, you’re always talking to Stephen,” snapped Luke.

“Uh, yeah. I talk to him because he actually listens to me.”

Luke chuckled. “I do listen to you.”

“When’s my birthday?” you suddenly asked him. It was a test. If he really, truly cared for you, then he would know that fact.

Luke shrugged. “July 9th.”

You shook your head, trying not to glare at him. “It’s June 9th. See. You don’t listen!”

And he didn’t even seem concerned with that as he tapped away on his phone. It hurt. It really did. And you found yourself with tears welling up in your eyes. You decided right then and there that you were going to talk to the person who actually listened to you. And that was Stephen.

You got off the bed in a huff, determined to get away from Luke. You stormed over to the door, yanking it open in a hurry.

“Where are you going?” Luke called out.

“It doesn’t matter,” you told him bluntly.

“I bet you’re going to him. At the Sanctum.” Luke’s voice was laced with an accusatory tone.

You didn’t answer. You just slammed the door shut, not caring that you were in your pyjamas. If Luke was going to treat you like that, then you were going to put some distance between the both of you. In a rush, you opened up a portal that would take you right to where Stephen would be. The New York Sanctum. You closed the portal behind you when you arrived and took quiet steps to Stephen’s room. Was he still awake? It was late. You hoped he was up.

When you got to his door you saw a small stream of light shining through. That was a good sign. You knocked on the door and heard some noise from behind it.

“Who’s there?” Stephen asked loudly.

“It’s me,” you responded.

“Come in!”

You pushed the door open, finding Stephen there in his robe and a thick book on his lap.

“Hey,” Stephen greeted you.

“Hi. Am I disturbing you?” you asked. That was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Not at all. What’s wrong?”

You sighed at the question. “Can I come and sit with you in the bed and tell you?”

“Of course.” Stephen pulled his blanket back, offering you a spot to sit.

You joined him on the comfortable bed, taking in the situation. You and Luke had just had a pretty nasty fight. And you hated the way he made you feel. You said nothing for a while, and neither did Stephen, until he finally broke the silence.

“What happened?” he asked.

You turned to look at him, noticing the worry on his face. You sucked in a sharp breath before starting your story. “Me and Luke just had a little argument.”

“Why?”

“I’ve just noticed that Luke doesn’t really pay attention to me. He wants to spend more time on his phone than he does with me.” As you said that, you could see Stephen shaking his head. “And earlier, I asked Luke if we could just cuddle. But all he did was ignore me.” The words got to you as you remembered the argument. Tears formed in your eyes yet again, your voice turning all soft.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart,” Stephen said quickly. He pulled you to him, letting you rest your head on his chest as he hugged you tight.

You pulled back a little to wipe at your eyes. “I’ve noticed during our whole relationship that he doesn’t really listen to me. He doesn’t show me that he cares about me.”

“I’ve noticed that too.”

Your eyes widened a little. “Really?”

Stephen nodded at you. “I’ve noticed how Luke upsets you. But I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t want to make you anymore upset. And I didn’t want to lose my best friend. I care about you, Y/N. So much. I love you. I love every part of you.”

Your head snapped to the side as you looked at Stephen, completely taken aback by what he had just said. Did he just…?

“What?” you asked with a whisper.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered, his eyes shutting for a second. He turned away from you, suddenly looking embarrassed.

“Stephen,” you called out to him.

He turned back around. Slowly. And there you saw his bright red cheeks.

“Is that true?” you wondered. “Did you really mean that?”

Stephen sighed loudly. “Yes. It’s true. And I’ve loved you ever since we first met. It broke my heart so much when I found out that you were with Luke. I kept my mouth shut because I just wanted to be happy for you. And I knew nothing could really happen between us, anyway. Because of our age gap…”

For a long time, you and Stephen just looked at each other. You were in the middle of taking in every word he just told you. His confession. But then you couldn’t help it when you sent him a teary-eyed smile. Reaching forward, you cupped his face with your hands. He smiled at you. A sweet, bright smile.

“I love you too. And I always have,” you whispered.

“Really?”

You nodded and leaned over to him, giving him a soft kiss. And then he kissed you back. And it was slow and moving and so, so perfect. But Stephen suddenly pulled away.

“What about Luke?” he asked you.

“Stephen, I’ve given Luke many opportunities. I’m done being treated second best,” you said confidently. You gave Stephen another kiss before eyeing him closely. “I’ve always loved you, Stephen. I’m sorry I was just too much of a coward to admit it.”

Stephen laughed lowly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Well, that makes two of us then.”

You giggled right back at him before Stephen kissed you. It quickly grew heated, your tongue diving into Stephen’s mouth. His hands lowered and held your hips tight, pulling you right into his lap. Your lips broke apart for a split second, but Stephen wasted no time as he quickly pulled you back into a kiss.

Your arms quickly wrapped around his broad back, with Stephen mimicking the action as he held you nice and tight. Tongues dancing together, you suddenly felt something hard pressing into you. You had to pull away from Stephen when you realised what it was. You gasped, watching as Stephen blushed all over again.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice all shy.

But you didn’t care. You kissed him fast and hard and noticed just how quickly Stephen kissed you back. Rocking your hips against his, you heard Stephen groan for you. The noise literally had you going weak right there in his arms, your centre growing wetter and wetter.

You kept kissing and rocking your hips, loving the sounds Stephen kept making. Those deep, guttural groans. But you pulled away from him so you could whisper out a request.

“Please make love to me,” you told him.

“Are you sure?” he asked with big eyes.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.” You meant every word.

Stephen kissed you softly before moving away from your mouth. “Okay.”

He shifted a little so that you were laying on the bed, while Stephen hovered above you. You shared another kiss before Stephen reached down, pulling off your top and exposing your breasts. He threw the top to the floor before he stared down at your breasts, taking them in. He stared at you, at your hard nipples. And then he blushed some more. You found it so adorable.

“You look so beautiful,” he said with a whisper. Then he leaned down, his warm lips kissing your skin. His lips ghosted over your nipples as he paid attention to each breast. Then he sucked one of your breasts into his mouth, moaning as a big hand grasped the other one.

The feeling had you whining. You reached down, raking a hand through Stephen’s thick locks. Your back arched for him, letting pleasure take over. You felt so wet. And it was all for Stephen. He stayed there, licking and sucking at your breast, before reaching down to pull down your pyjama bottoms and panties. They both hit the floor, and then you were completely and utterly exposed for Stephen. Every part of you was on show.

“Fuck,” Stephen hissed as he stared at you. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N.”

He moved down, kissing you hard and fast. Your tongues moved together wildly, but you had to see Stephen. You had to see him properly.

“I wanna see you too,” you said with a whine. “Please.”

“Alright, sweetheart.” He nodded. He got off the bed to stand up, slowly pulling off his robe, exposing his cock.

You literally gasped at what you were seeing. He was so hard. And so, so big. Thick too. You couldn’t wait to feel him deep inside of you.

Stephen got back on the bed and you wasted no time spreading your legs for him. Stephen then got settled in between your legs as he hovered above you. He kissed you softly, and while his mouth was so perfect, you needed him to take you already.

“Please fuck me,” you pleaded with him.

“Okay,” Stephen groaned. “But I’m gonna start off slow. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You smiled at how sweet and caring he was being. “Okay.”

Stephen gave you a soft kiss before grabbing his cock. He ran the tip up and down your wet slit a few times. The swollen tip of his cock was soon covered in your arousal. You let out a sharp moan when you felt Stephen press the head of his cock against your clit. It felt so good.

“Are you ready?” He asked, voice deep.

You nodded eagerly at him. Stephen watched you closely as he pressed the tip of his cock to your entrance, and then he slid right into you with absolute ease. You moaned in unison, and then Stephen buried his face in your neck as he pushed more of his cock into you. You quickly wrapped your arms around him, wanting to feel him close. You could hear Stephen groaning into your ear when he filled you up, right to the hilt as he bottomed out. The noise had you clenching around him.

“Fuck,” Stephen moaned out.

“Are you okay?” you quickly asked.

Stephen moved so that he could stare down at you. His cheeks were so red. “Yes. You just feel so good wrapped around my cock.”

You gave him a quick kiss. “Please move. Please.”

Stephen’s eyes were stuck on you as he began to move his cock. He was moving slowly, but the pleasure was still there and had you letting out little moans. You dragged your nails across his skin, digging into him. But you had to have more.

“Please move faster,” you begged. “Please.”

Stephen did. He thrusted into you that little bit faster and harder, and you couldn’t help it when you let out a long moan. The sound filled the room right up. You couldn’t believe how good he was making you feel. The pleasure was so new to you, and you had no idea that sex could feel so good.

Stephen kept moving in and out of you, his cock stretching you out. He was moving fast and hard and it was exactly what you needed.

“Oh, please don’t stop!” you let out.

“I’m not gonna stop.” He leaned down, giving you a rushed kiss that you eagerly returned. Stephen placed his hands on either side of your head and suddenly began to just pound into you wildly.

“Stephen!” you whined out. “Mm, fuck me just like that!”

Your shaky hands reached down as you grabbed at the blankets, pulling at them as Stephen took you hard and fast and so, so deep. Your knuckles literally turned white as you grabbed at the blankets, getting lost in the pure pleasure that Stephen was giving you. The sound of skin hitting skin filled the room and you loved every second of it.

Stephen suddenly pushed his cock into you nice and deep. The swollen tip of his cock was pressing up against that sweet, sensitive spot – a spot no one had ever reached before.

“Mm, your cock feels so good,” you cried out.

“Fuck.” Stephen suddenly lowered his body, pressing up against you tightly.

You kissed each other hard and fast; all the while Stephen kept hitting that spot again and again. You circled your arms around his back and let out a long moan when you realised that your orgasm was quickly forming. It was something you had never felt before. You needed it so bad.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you whined out. Stephen was fucking you so good. He knew exactly how to touch you. Exactly how to make you feel good, and you knew you were going to meet your orgasm any second now.

That seemed to trigger something in Stephen, because he began to pound into you wildly from above. You kept crying out, letting Stephen know just how good he was making you feel. Your back arched as that wild feeling grew more and more. You kept moaning, unable to believe how good you were feeling – and how it was Stephen of all people who was making you feel so good. And then the feeling hit you. Your orgasm. It hit you hard and fast and you lost it right there on Stephen’s cock.

“Oh, Stephen!” you moaned out, letting your orgasm take over your body. It felt so good. You were growing wetter and wetter by the second, letting Stephen pound right into you.

Stephen fucked you right through your orgasm. He was dragging out the pure pleasure, allowing you to feel every second of it. He groaned deeply, and you had a feeling it was because your pussy was clenching right around Stephen, pulling him deeper and deeper into you.

He kept pounding into you and you suddenly felt something else growing. Another orgasm. But it felt so much stronger than the one you just had. It was building up, second by second, the heat just growing the more Stephen fucked you. And he was fucking you so good, so hard. He seemed to be entirely focused on your pleasure alone, his cock stretching you out and filling you up at just the right angle yet again.

“Stephen, please keep moving,” you whined as he kept on thrusting his cock into you. “Oh, fuck. I think I’m going to…”

"Just let go, sweetheart," Stephen told you.

After those words left his mouth, you felt yourself coming undone. You couldn’t say anything. All you did was scream loudly as you came a second time, the feeling driving you wild. You were gushing right around Stephen’s length, making you feel so wet between your thighs. It was something you had never felt before, and you kept feeling yourself getting wetter the more Stephen fucked you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you saw white, your ears ringing. All you could feel was complete and total pleasure as you felt your body shaking. Stephen was dragging out that wonderful feeling with his cock, like he wanted to make sure that your orgasm was lasting as long as possible.

You whined and cried out, eyes shut tight as your strong orgasm hit you. You still didn’t say anything and instead just let out sounds of pleasure, your breathing unsteady as Stephen fucked you good and hard.

Eventually, the wonderful feeling faded, and you found yourself letting out soft whines as Stephen kept moving in and out of you, his cock twitching inside of you.

“I’m gonna cum,” he muttered out.

“Mm, you can cum inside of me,” you whispered, wanting to feel him lose himself inside of you. “I’m on the pill. Please cum inside of me. Please.” You needed it. You had to have Stephen – every part of him.

It seemed as if that was all Stephen needed to hear, because a second later, he was giving you a few more deep thrusts before letting out the deepest of groans. And then he came. He came right there inside of you, filling you up. He lost all control, giving you every drop of cum he had to offer.

He was panting wildly as he pushed in and out of you. Soon his breathing settled and he laid down next to you on the bed. You were in the middle of catching your breath too. You were still trying to process what just happened with you and Stephen.

Stephen seemed to get his breathing back on track and got up. He put his robe on and then headed off into another room. He came back with a washcloth in hand. You laid there, body still shaking a little, as Stephen cleaned you up gingerly.

"Did you know you squirted?" Stephen asked you as he cleaned up your sensitive area gently.

You stared at him for a long moment before you shook your head. That must have been what you were experiencing earlier when you felt so wet between your thighs.

"No, no man has ever made me do that before... Until you of course," you told Stephen and he sent you a smile before winking at you. He then stood up and made his way back over to the other room to put the washcloth back.

After he returned from putting the washcloth back, he climbed back into bed with you and covered you with the warm blankets.

“Are you okay?” he asked lowly.

“I’m okay.” You nodded at him. You moved over to Stephen, laying down on his broad chest as he wrapped an arm around you. It felt so good to have him cuddle you, to have him hold you close.

It was quiet for a while. And you figured that Stephen just wanted to get some sleep, but then he broke the silence.

“So, when do you plan on telling Luke that your relationship is over?” he asked.

It was a good question. Shifting slightly, you looked up at Stephen. “I’ll probably tell him tomorrow, I guess. If he listens to me, that is. He barely even listens to me when I’m talking. He probably won’t even listen to me when I finally break up with him.”

“Does Luke listen to you about anything?” Stephen asked with a furrowed brow. He looked offended on your behalf.

You shook your head at him. “I don’t think so. He doesn’t even know when my birthday is. And he doesn’t know the stuff I like, or the stuff I don’t like.”

Stephen’s eyes widened. “How could he not remember that your birthday is the 9th of June? Or that your favourite flowers are roses? Or that you hate spicy food?” There was such disbelief in Stephen’s voice, like he couldn’t even process the fact that Luke didn’t know those things about you.

You looked at Stephen for what felt like an hour. You were in total shock. How was it that your boyfriend didn’t know any of that stuff, but Stephen did? Stephen knew you better than your boyfriend did. Better than anyone else, it seemed.

“How… How do you know all of that?” you finally let out, your voice a bit shaky. Your mind was still a little hazy from your love making session.

Stephen just smiled at you. “I actually listen to everything you tell me.”

You returned his smile. It was big and bright, and that was because you were experiencing full, pure joy. You kissed Stephen softly and slowly, loving the way he gently kissed you back. You were right where you belonged. Right there with the man who actually knew you. You were so lucky that the two of you had found each other – even with the Luke hurdle that had been thrown your way. But he could be dealt with later.

“I love you, Stephen Strange,” you said with a whisper.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he said, his voice laced with what you could only describe as pure love. You and Stephen laid there together, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Your eyes fluttered shut as pure exhaustion took over. But you were truly over the moon that it was Stephen that you were with. Because he was the one who listened to you. He was the one who cared for you. And he was the one who loved you.

And you loved him just as much.

Tag list: @butchers-girl @azu21 @polytheatrix @lucimorningst4r @evelyn-kingsley @withalittlehoney @mirikusashes @bobateadaydreams @strangelockd @thealleydog @cemak @stewardofningishzida @smokeywhalee @floatingfireflies @iamsherlocked1479 @icytrickster17 @asherloki @alice-bcmf @aphroditesdilemma @strangesthirdeye @rmoonstoner @stephenswh0re

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thebelugawhalefriend · 4 months

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Many Loving Kisses - Yan!Royal Harem x Reader

PART TWO

CW: Yandere themes, Fem reader, Homophobia, Polyamory, FxF and MxF, Slight mentions of religion

Note: This is based on a dream I had a while back that actually opened up the idea of polyamory being healthy to me. While the dream involved an emperor from Japan and his harem, I'm very worried about writing for a culture I'm not completely learned up on. So! I've written it to fit a Medieval setting ^^

"The King has requested your daughter's hand in marriage." A messenger read from his scroll upon a white stallion, your parents looking on in shock. "His Majesty? But... Why our daughter?" Your mother starts, but her partner puts her hand on your mother's shoulder. "Do you dare ask why our gracious King would bestow upon you a dowry for your daughter? After he pardoned the unholy sanctity of your union?" It's then your other mother, "Auntie", steps in with venom in her tone. "Now you listen here, you brute... My wife didn't dare insult the king! She simply asked why he would want to take our only child away from us. Disgracing our union is unnecessary!"

To this, the messenger seethes. Withdrawing from his horse, the towering brute of a man steps closer to your mothers. "He did request that anyone unwilling to hand over the bride to be shall be taken to be executed. Would you prefer I end your lives? I'll be more than happy to-"

"Stop!" You immediately waved your arms up, trying to get in the middle of the dispute, "I'll go- please! Just don't hurt my mom and auntie...!" It was now their turn to look upon you with shock. "Baby..." Your mother lifts her hands to hold your face. "You don't have to do this. We'll do anything to keep you safe-" "Mama, it's not worth sacrificing your lives over something like a marriage. I love you both too much to see someone take your lives..."

Sundown's pink hues darken the skies as you wave your final goodbyes to your moms. To ensure you wouldn't change your mind, some of the men who had tagged along with the messenger tied you tight and carried you upon horseback. While your parents were paid a great sum for your hand, you couldn't help but worry about what the king's wife would think. How would this work? Would she be okay with the king having you as a second wife? Of course, his first wife will still be Queen... But what will you be?

Nightfall approaches as soon as the men who carried you in tow arrive at the gates. The king, in all his glory, looks upon the arriving carrivan with great disdain. The messenger leads on with pride in his chest and eyes. "My King, we've brought your bride to be as you requested!" "And you tied her like an animal to a slaughter?!" The king's sharp tone immediately deflated the messenger's ego. "I- uhm- It wasn't I who requested she be bound like that! Men, what have you done to our lady? At least treat the maiden with class!" The crew hastily undoes your ties as the messenger puffs out his chest yet again. Though, the king seems unimpressed.

"I've had quite enough trouble with the likes of you, Stephen. You treat your job as if I bestowed upon you a knight's status... One more misuse of your power and I'll have you imprisoned for the rest of your days." His golden eyes now fall upon you, gaze softening upon seeing your figure. "As for her, let her come and follow me. She's to be acquainted with my wife before any plans are set in motion."

Now, it's hard to not fall for a king so handsome. Stunning muscular features, a chiseled face as if a sculptor carved him from marble, and long curls of red hair pulled onto a loose ponytail. Freckles mark his face and skin like stars and constellations, with multitudes of scars connecting them. You start to wonder if God personally painted him to look like a galaxy... "I do apologize for how my men have treated you. It's difficult to find men as honorable as my own knights, dearest (Y/N)."

"You... Know my name, Your Highness...?"

"Why wouldn't I? You've been all my wife has been talking about for the past few weeks! It took me the longest time to come around to the idea but... One look of who she spoke of and I couldn't agree faster."

"King Fl-"

"Please, you may call me Rose." His smile is so warm, it brought your face to a rosy red. The tenderness of his words... That spark in his eye... It's hard to believe that this would be yours to even have, not to mention have his wife willing to share!

Once you both happen upon an ornate willow door, Rose gives it a gentle knock. "Darling?" A soft voice calls from inside the room. "Is that you?" "Yes, my dearest wife! I have brought someone you'd most adore to meet..." "Oh! But Rose, I'm just about indecent! Visitors can't gaze upon me right now..." The red haired man rolls his eyes with a bright smile, "Oh, alright, I suppose (Y/N) can wait a few moments longer."

With that, the door creeps open. "Please, let her come in!" You swallow a large lump in your throat, trotting in carefully. The inside of the room is spacious and rather decorated- even for a queen. Paintings of fables and animals decorate the walls, each framed with delicately carved wood. Walls themselves were murals of flowers and leaves, furniture threatening to overflow with delicate knick knacks and jewelry. What catches your eyes is the large pink bed with sheer canopies of white hanging over. On the sheets sit a tall and curvy woman. Eyes a striking purple and hair as black as a raven's plumage. What stands out most about her are her larger than life scars along her collarbone. While Rose's own were small, hers looked like she had fought a wild beast... The only thing that covers her is a purple nightgown, only going so far as to cover most of her thighs.

"You must be (Y/N)." She stands from the bed, brushing off her legs and looking at you with a bright smile. The mere sight of her vulnerability brings a deep blush back to your cheeks. "M-My Lady... I'm honored to... Uhm... Meet you!" You try to curtsey, but the queen merely laughs at your attempt and approaches your feeble form. "Please, there is no need for formality, little one! From now on, you can call me Azalea. But, any amount of nicknames will do." With that, she reaches her hands to your face and cups them along your jawline. "Look at you... You're so beautiful... So joyous and kind... I knew from the moment I saw you, I would love to have you marry my husband and I!"

It wasn't too long ago you met the queen. Only about a month, if you had to make a guess. She had been making her rounds along town in disguise despite her husband's protests. That's when she happened upon your family's stall. Adorned with colors and beads, it immediately was obvious that you were all selling jewelry. "Greetings!" You beamed from the stall, the queen's attention caught on you. "Would you... Actually, hold on a moment." The curious monarch watched on as you picked through one of the racks of necklaces. From them, you picked a particular piece- An orange and red beaded necklace with a ruby as the showpiece. "You look like someone who could use a little more red-"

"Oh no, I can't- I'm sorry, I don't have any..." While the Queen fretted this potential trick, you put your hands onto her own. "I didn't say you had to pay for the piece. I... Actually made that one myself. I would be honored to have someone as beautiful as you wear it." She was quick to catch onto your "flirting", to which she laughed and looked into you. "If I didn't have a husband, I would snatch you right up! If only men were so flattering as you are." You gave her a little look of confusion, "I didn't mean to try and take you as my own- Oh, but I would if you wanted me to-! Just uh! Uhm..." That assumption brought a great fluster to your face. "I genuinely mean it, miss. I have a great feeling about you! I don't often get them but... Mom says when you get that feeling, you just have to... Put it into action. Does that make sense?" The tall woman laughed again, "Absolutely not, but I appreciate the gift you've given me. Perhaps fortune will be as giving as you are..."

At the time, you didn't even realize just what her status was. It wasn't until this very moment of her hold on your face that you finally could recognize her.

"You were that lady I met last month, weren't you?" Azalea beams with amusement, her familiar laugh ringing in your ears, "It took you long enough to figure that out! Ah, but don't you worry about it, just proves my disguise is effective." As she keeps you in conversation, her body urges you to join her on the bed. By that, it's merely a hand pulling you to the mattress and a gentle push urging you to sit. With you next to Azalea, Rose peeks right in with curiosity.

"How are my wonderful girls?" He steps right in, Azalea sticking her tongue out and pulling you in for a protective hug. "This one shall be my own wife! You can't have her, Rose!" Her tone is playful, but for a moment, you could have sworn you saw that primal desire of possessiveness. "Oh, you wound me, darling! I paid her dowry, only for her to be snatched away?" He comes in closer, leaning into his wife with that exact same look. "I don't think so... Come here!"

The redhead pulls you and Azalea in for a tight embrace. Between his muscular chest and Azalea's soft breasts, you're sure you will suffocate under this pile of affection. Though, it isn't long until he pulls away to let you breathe. "Goodness, my apologies (Y/N)! I should be more careful with my two favorite flowers..."

Their gentleness and affection all reminds you of your moms. How they would shower you with affection and each other with love. It brings a certain ache to your heart, but... You'll see them again, right?

"King- Sorry, Rose?" "Yes, my flower?" "What will become of my moms?" Your freckled lover pauses for a moment, "Your mothers? What of them? They've been compensated for your dowry." "When will I see them again?" This time, Azalea comes in to answer. Her limbs wrap around you and pull you into her lap by the waist. "Oh, my dear, we can't have you wandering about in public! You'll be a spectacle out there! Besides, you'll already have a lady who will care for you every day..."

"But... What of my friends?"

"What of them? They'll get to watch you marry us! Besides, you'll have a man who will be your company from dawn until dusk." While Azalea holds you, Rose brings a hand to your chin and strokes it lovingly. That facade of care was quickly starting to feel like a trap you've fallen into.

"That's... Lovely and all! I really do appreciate that I'll be spending my days with you both. I just worry that... Well, you both have many duties as king and queen. Surely I could be allowed outside...?" Both of the lovers freeze. It's as if you admitted to murder! The tension of the room grows thick like butter, with Rose's gaze turning from soft to absolutely enraged. Yet, his tone is still calmed. Too calm.

"My darling little flower..." His grip on your face tightens, "The outside is far too dangerous for you to venture into. You're to stay here with us and be our company. Do you understand me?" Your eyes widen and you nod feverishly, Rose letting out a sigh and pulling back. Azalea turns you slightly so you could look into her honeyed look using those familiar amethyst eyes. "Don't let it scare you so easily, loveliest... We love you! We won't hurt you if we don't have to. We'll keep you safe here... No matter how hard it'll be!"

#yandere #yandere x reader #reader insert #imagines #x reader #yandere crush #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n

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sasch1sch · 4 months

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people who say shit like "scott is an irredeemable piece of shit, i just like the franchise for the other characters" completely miss the point of the series. yes, scott fucks up colossally by taking advantage of knives' naïveté. but the main message is that even if youve been hurt in the past, its no excuse to act like a dickhead but its never too late to learn from your mistakes. yes, sometimes you fuck up and you cant undo your mistakes but you can grow and change for the better.

most characters in scott pilgrim are flawed. ramona cheats on most of her exes, which made them resentful and bitter, in other words "turned them evil" in the first place. wallace and kim criticise scott for dating knives, and yet wallace makes out with stacys boyfriend (who is about knives age) and kim makes out with knives later on (which is more fucked up since "at least" scott never even held hands with her). also stephen initially endorses scotts behaviour. all of them understand eventually that their behaviour is wrong however and change, for example stephen grows really protective of knives and tells her about the cheating himself.

ramona and scott learn to be better together, they realize they cant keep going like this, scott cant turn into yet another evil ex, she realises she is the common denominator. the way she was treating her exes was awful, of course they werent saints when they were dating, ramona had good reasons to break up. but still she confronts her past and acknowledges that she had hurt her lovers and she accepts that she cannot keep running away and dumping the people she was with along the way.

as i said, dating knives and leading her on was fucked up, there is no denying it and the author of the books makes this very clear. but scott never sees her as a genuine option to be with. at the start of the series, he is still broken from his relationship with envy in which he was treated like shit and then dumped and with his deep abandonment issues, he is terrified of being left alone. knives is easily accessible to him, she is naive, she idolises and adores him and he takes advantage of that to feel better about himself. that is the only way he ever uses her though, he never wants a romantic or sexual relationship out of her and that was clear from the second knives was introduced. ive seen people call him an abuser and even a pedo and that couldnt be further from the truth.

crticising and scrutinising characters and their actions is crucial in any form of media you consume. i just want people to remember that the characters in the scott pilgrim franchise are supposed to be 3 dimensional and capable of change. they fuck up, yes, but theyre not monsters. theyre normal people with messy lives who at times can be good people or make mistakes.

scott has abandonment issues and a very low self esteem and ramona has commitment issues and they both take some time apart at some point to reflect on them and actually grow before rushing into yet another relationship that was destined to fail as long as they refused to acknowledge these issues. i think their growth is beautiful and while these characters are deeply flawed, its not fair to dismiss the care and love that went into crafting them.

#long post i know #scott pilgrim #scott pilgrim vs the world #scott pilgrim takes off #ramona flowers #wallace wells #bryan lee o'malley

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lokisprettygirl · 6 months

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Under his influence (Post Avengers! Loki x female reader)

Read chapter 36 here/ Series Masterlist

Chapter 37

Summary : Loki reminds you of the time you were made to forget.

Warning: 18+, Smut HUGE Canon divergence (Just me making shit up), timey wimey stuff topics dealing with cheating and falling out of love, infertility, discussion of pregnancy

Since you met Loki things have been strange to say the least, turns out Stephen hadn't invited him to his birthday party for no reason, there was a threat looming over everything in the name of a mad Titan named Thanos but they fixed it, Avengers did, and Loki was one of them now. His popularity had increased since then, he was a hero, he was the one who knew all about Thanos and helped Avengers come up with a plan, he finally had his chance at redemption and you had a feeling he'd forget all about you slowly once he realizes what earth had to offer to him but he didn't.

After the war with Thanos had ended, he was there at your door bruised and hurt, his eyes were teary, for a moment you thought he'd kiss you but he didn't. You had no idea how hard it was for him to resist.

After tending to his wounds-even though he didn't need it, you grabbed a towel and passed it to him and you had no idea why his eyes welled up when you ruffled his hair and asked him to wash his hair. Maybe he didn't like it when you told him that he looked like a pine tree.

The more time you spent with him the more he felt like a dream come true, he was soft and precious but he was also protective and fierce everytime he was in public with you, he wasn't afraid to be seen with you, he treated you as if you belonged to him in every possible way and you didn't know how to feel about that.

He was famous now and you didn't understand why he'd choose you of all people but the way he looked at you at times made you feel as if you were loved so deeply by him but why would he love you that way? It has merely been two months since he knew you.

There was a celebration at the Avengers tower and he wanted to take you with him, you weren't his girlfriend, not yet, so you felt really nervous about it, however you didn't deny the offer, you just wanted to be around him as much as you could, you wanted to cross all the lines of decency and devour him but something held you back, maybe it was fear, you feared that he'd lose his interest in you once he had you in that way.

You had been in the same situation a plenty of times before and you didn't want to ruin this friendship you had built with him so you stayed quiet and kept your feelings to yourself.

---

Loki knew he had to tell you the truth sooner or later but he wanted to wait for the right moment, he wanted to gain your trust, your forgotten memories would feel too much at once and he didn't want to scare you away from him or make you feel as if he'd harm you or manipulate you in any ways.

That night at the tower as you accompanied him to the celebration he took you to his room, the room you both had been in countless times in other realities but you didn't remember, that's when he showed you his real self, his jotun form.

He just wanted to see how you'd react when you weren't really in love with him in the way you were before but the moment you hugged his giant blue body so tightly and showed no sign of discomfort, whatever miniscule amount of insecurity he had vanished as well.

You were made for him, just for him and he'd never let you go again.

"Happy birthday darling" you smiled as you heard his voice on the phone, so deep and raspy, his voice was one of the many countless reasons you were awake at night these days with your fingers playing with yourself.

"Thank you mister..you said you'd come see me but I don't see you here" you mumbled softly, you were in the kitchen making a cup of tea for yourself, you weren't really enthusiastic about turning 37 but having a new friend in life, a friend that actually cared about you was nice, you had no idea how you'd get over him if someday he'd leave you as well.

"You'd see me if you come to the door" as soon as he said that you leaped towards the door and there he was, in a fancy suit while you looked your usual homeless self. That was another thing you didn't quite understand, he never made you feel as if you had to pretend to be something you were not in front of him.

"What's the occasion?" You asked him as you looked at his fancy self so he smiled and walked closer to you to kiss your forehead.

"It's your birthday and I want to take you somewhere"

"I have to get ready?" you groaned so he cupped your cheeks and kissed the top of your head this time, his soft little kisses always made you yearn for more.

"You can come with me just the way you are love, you look beautiful" he mumbled in your ears as he kissed your cheek, you felt your skin tingling, one of these days you were going to cross all those boundaries you had confined yourself in.

"I'm not going out like this lo" he chuckled as you said that, you asked him to sit down on the couch as you went to the bedroom to change.

He liked this new place you had now but he didn't like it as much as he liked your old tiny apartment. He missed that place and if he was going to tell you the truth, it would be right there. That's where he had ended up the first time, that's when he had seen the prettiest girl in all of existence.

The place that had changed the course of his life should also be the one to change yours.

Once you got ready he teleported you both to your old place, just outside the door.

"Are we here to see Mrs Geller?" You chuckled as you asked him so he shook his head and took out a key to open the apartment you used to live in for what felt like ages ago.

"Why do you have the key?" There was a look of confusion on your face so he smiled to assure you, he hoped he wasn't coming across as a deranged killer.

"I own it now"

"You do?"

"Yes sweetheart"

As you entered the apartment you couldn't believe your eyes, you had left this place when you got married to Stephen, other tenants arrived and left in the meantime so you were surprised to see it look the same way you used to keep it, the furniture and by furniture you meant that ugly little sofa was still there, it even had the tiny little bed you had bought for yourself which surprised you because you had a feeling the other tenant had replaced it..

"I used to live here"

You turned around to look at him so he smiled,

"I know..do you trust me?" he asked you as he approached you so you nodded almost immediately. You trusted him with all your heart.

"What's going on lo?" You asked him softly, you did feel a bit apprehensive of the situation but it wasn't because of him, deep down in your heart you knew he'd never hurt you.

He hesitated before speaking, trying to find the right words to convey what he needed to say. "I need to tell you something important," he finally began. "It may be a lot to take in, and I know it's not easy, but it's something that happened to us, to me and you"

He looked at you with a mix of nervousness and excitement , not wanting to overwhelm you

"What do you mean? I don't understand" He cupped your cheeks and placed his forehead down on yours, his thumbs grazed over your cheekbones gently,

"Have you ever felt as if you were missing something, a part of your life that you couldn't remember?" He asked you softly and he could see the conflicting look in your eye,

"I did..all my life but more since I got older..i ..what's going on lo?" You asked him, suddenly feeling extremely anxious about what was to come..

"This is going to feel a lot at once my darling, but I need you to put your faith in me" Before you could say something else his fingers grazed over your temples and you finally recalled everything you had forgotten. Was it really forgotten or you never ever lived it at all? You couldn't figure it out just yet, he wasn't wrong it did feel overwhelming.

You saw it all, you went back to 2012 and you were here in the kitchen threatening him with a knife and then you remembered everything that had happened between you two after that. The friendship that bloomed, falling in love with each other..visit from Stephen and other Loki, reversing the timeline and then losing him again and then again, you suddenly had all those memories including the life you had lived in the past few years.

Your head was threatening to explode so you took a step away from him, he could tell that you felt scared of the situation and were trying to rationalize it, that's why he had to remember you because this would have been so much more difficult if he didn't.

"Princess"

You broke down into a fit of cry as he addressed you like that, the memories hit you like a wave in that moment and you weren't sure if you wanted to hold on or get swept away in it. It was like being pulled in two directions at once - you wanted to hold on to the memories and not forget, but at the same time, the pain and heartbreak that came with those memories was almost too much to bear. You weren't sure if you wanted to cling to the past or let it go, but either way, you knew that this moment would change everything.

"What is going on" you gulped as you questioned him, voice choked on your own tears, that was all you could manage to say to him.

Seven years you had been separated from him, for seven years you had to suffer just so the world could go on and be the way it was destined to be.

"I know it's a lot to take in sweetheart"

"You bet it is..i ..I don't...Oh god" you felt dizzy and he was immediately by your side to grab a hold of you, he'd never let you fall again "How did i…how could I forget you like that? Lokiii ..how couldn't i remember you..whyy didn't i remember you?" you whimpered as you looked up at him.

If you loved him so deeply then how did you forget?

"Because that's how it was supposed to be my love.. none of this was your fault" he placed his forehead down on yours and allowed you to cry because he knew after this he'd never ever make you cry like this again.

When you didn't remember him you felt so hollow and it all made sense now but now that you did remember him you couldn't fathom how you had gone seven years without him. It felt impossible.

"Please tell me we are going to be okay now, please I can't..I can't do this again baby" the pet name rolled off your lips so naturally that it didn't even make you flinch, all of a sudden you felt as if the life you had been living in the past seven years was an alternate reality that has never happened to you,

"I'm never ever leaving you again..I gave you my word didn't i? I'd tear apart the multiverse if it means I'd get to have you by my side"

He assured you and as he felt your arms around him everything was back to how it was supposed to be. He picked you up in his arms and walked towards the bed to lay you down on it, your face looked swollen from all the crying and he found it so adorable, as he took his jacket off you thought he was going to make love to you but as soon as he laid down next to you and snuggled himself against you, you knew he just needed to hold you in his arms. And you needed it desperately too.

That's how you both stayed there for what felt like hours even though it's barely been minutes..

"Lo?"

"Mmm"

"Who made you remember? Did she come?" You asked him so he looked at you and his eyes were filled with tears,

"She didn't have to make me remember" he propped himself on his elbows as he rubbed his face with his hand,

"What do you mean?"

"My memories weren't erased, i wanted to remember" you sat up on the bed as he said that, he had a feeling this would make you upset.

"Why? Why did you remember?" You asked him, you were shocked to say the least,

"So I could make you remember me when the right time would come..i didn't want to live without your memories.. didn't want to take a risk . I wanted to make sure I'd end up here with you" your eyes teared up so you crawled towards him and hugged him tightly,

"You remembered? How did you..god lo" you couldn't understand how he went seven years this way, waiting for the right moment to come back to you, you don't think you'd have been so strong and able to do the same and maybe that's why you had to forget him.

As you pulled away you kissed him as lovingly as you could and he pressed his head between the crook of your neck to suck on the soft exposed skin, your eyes fixated at the kitchen area and it felt surreal.

Time had come full circle.

Being here with him in the apartment where you had seen him the first time felt unreal, it felt like a dream but it was your reality, a beautiful reality that you'd get to live now.

"Do you want to do this?" He asked softly, always needing your consent even though his fingers were already fiddling with the zipper of your dress, instead of answering him with words you took his shirt off and that was all he needed.

He laid you down on the bed and he didn't even need to do much, you were already dripping wet for him so he waved his fingers and there was a condom in his hand,

"It's old..I sure hope it won't rip sweetheart"

You chuckled as he said that before your eyes teared up as you remembered something.

"It's ok..I can't..ummm I'm not really fertile" you gulped as you told him that but instead of a frown or worry there was a smile on his face,

"You are perfectly fertile my love"

"No you don't understand – with Stephen ..we tried ..i–" he placed his finger on your lips as you began to stutter.

"Shhhhh don't remind me of the fact that he got to touch you like that"

"I'm sorry..I'm sorry..did you ummm..did you sleep with other people?"

"Nooooo.."

"You haven't had sex in seven years?" Your eyes widened in surprise as you questioned him, sure he remembered you but he was a man, with needs, how did he not give into the temptations?

"You really think I'd betray you like that princess?"

"Lokiii..i wouldn't..god i love you" you wrapped your arms around his neck as you pulled him closer to you to kiss him, a gasp escaped your lips as he slipped his cock inside you at the same time, building up a slow rhythm he kept his eyes on you, reeling in every second of this glorious moment..

"Haven't you noticed something?" He asked you so you looked at him intently,

"What?'

"You haven't aged a day since you turned thirty?"

"I have..I'm older now lo" you giggled and norns he had missed all of this so badly he still felt as if he was in a dream.

"You feel that way but you don't look so" your eyes flickered in confusion as he said that, "That last day..the last time we fucked against your wardrobe, I did something to you.. without your permission and I'd apologise but I'm not even apologetic about it"

"What do you mean?" You smiled as you questioned, nothing he said would faze you anymore he had figured but he needed to come clean.

"I didn't use contraception that night, you remember?"

"Mmm" you mumbled as you tucked his hair behind his ears,

"I took you as my mate, not just as a god but as a Jotunn. We are a different species altogether, destined to have one partner for life, one to wed and mate with until death do us part. I planted my seed within you, it's waiting to be flourished whenever you'd become ready to be the mum, and from that moment on, you became my chosen one, unable to have another man's children"

Your mouth stayed open as you processed the information, that's why you weren't able to get pregnant even though your body was completely healthy "I'm sorry I made that decision for you, you can choose to leave yourself out whenever you desire princess, I'd never ever force you to be with me"

"Shutup ..lo" you flipped him underneath you as he said that, your hips rolled back and forth as you began to ride him slowly. Was this supposed to make you upset? You didn't know, Maybe you'd have felt so if it was some other man but you knew loki would never ever do anything to hurt you "You could have just told me lo"

"You wouldn't have remembered"

"I know..did you do it to stop me from aging? Holy shit am I immortal now?"

"Not immortal..you'd just age the same way I do"

"Thousands of years…together?" Your eyes teared up as you looked at him so he cupped your cheeks and as his thumb grazed over your lips you sucked on his digit and an indecent moan escaped his throat,

"Forever my love, you'd be mine forever..that's not why I did it though" you looked at him confused as he said that, "It was atrocious enough that I had to watch you belong to another man for those years, there's no way I'd have allowed him to breed you in such a way"

You smiled as he said that, he was so possessive and you loved that. As you made love to him all night, you still felt as if you were in a fever dream where everything was going your way and you were living the life you had always desired but for once life was on your side. For once time was your friend.

It all made sense now, you were destined to be his forever, that's why you had felt so lonely all your life, feeling as if you were missing a part of your existence, now you knew he always had it with him.

"I dated Mark Johnson" your eyes widened as you remembered that, before you married Strange you dated this other doctor for a while, he was nice but he wasn't the love of your life, none of them were.

Everything made sense now, you gave Loki the fake name in the first timeline because you were supposed to date a man with the same name in the future, the future Loki you met in the first reality one was this same Loki that was underneath you at the moment who went to the alternate reality to warn him of his own future.

"Marry me darling..I can't take it no more..I need to tell the world you belong to me" he asked you as he pulled out a ring out of nowhere, you remembered the ring, it was the same one he had given you before, but this time you knew he belonged to you the way you belonged to him, he had waited and he was only yours for seven years.

All the fears, the trauma, the insecurities you had vanished in that moment. You knew you'd marry him for the reasons this time.

You remembered what Loki had told you, your loki, this loki, he knew.

"So will we really get married in the future?"

"In six months of meeting each other"

It all made sense now.

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

Note: Just one more chapter left/ more like an epilogue.

Taglist

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