#greedy best first search

[agatedragongames]

Pathfinder Search Algorithm Battle Royale

A-star (yellow) vs Breadth (green) vs Greedy (red) vs Depth (blue)

Four pathfinding search algorithms which start at different corners of a hexagon grid, looking for the same goal

[redrrem]

cw: smut, virginity loss, virgin gojo, unprotected sex, experienced reader, best friends to lovers? f!reader, all characters are 18+, MDNI, definitely not proofread

a/n: finally wrote something after weeks, I've been so stressed with school and thinking about grad school and grades and just ugh.. anyways enjoy <3

Gojo Satoru is the type of person to lie about not being a virgin. The first time the two of you had sex, you were too dumb and stretched out on his virgin cock to even notice, the pace of his thrusts and girth of his cock (and his search browser history) making up for his lack of experience. 

It felt like he was the one taking your virginity, and not the other way around. His thick cock drilling you into the mattress, pretty pink tip kissing your cervix with each thrust as he fucks you in his childhood bedroom. 

His mind drunk on the taste of your sweet lips and the feeling of your tight walls clinging onto him like a vice.

And Satoru being well.. Satoru, wasn’t going to stop, not until he had your pretty pussy lips fluttering around his virgin cock as you come undone.  

It felt like every virgin's wet dream come true, fucking his childhood best friend (and hopefully girlfriend after tonight) in his old bedroom, mouth full of your sensitive tits and pace relentless until you were a blushing squirming mess underneath him.

And poor you, unable to get a moment to breathe as you feel your best friend's cock thrusting up into your lungs, keeping you full and stuffed as your greedy pussy tries to milk him dry.

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐒 — do not copy, translate, repost or modify my works on any platform.

[grotesquevi]

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ YOUR LOVE HAS GOT ME GOING ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ LIKE YOU COULDN'T IMAGINE.

cw  #  18+ mdni, stripper!reader + older and divorced!ellie getting all hot and bothered, dirty talk, contains metaphors to addiction and vices, fingering in the bonus side yikes. i'm sorry mutuals, i'm not usually like this but made this everything sean baker’s was dreaming of when he wrote anora with his dick.

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ boycott tlou || check out my fic directory

side note  #  i went above and beyond to search for this two motherfuckers, they were not even in tumblr so i thank this to moya since i had to go to the dark places to get 'em aka the wayback machine on internet's archive. if you recognize this? or are you my pillar nonnie? you may be confused but its because tumblr deleted my old account thinking i was a fucking bot, i used to be under the name vicorices. bare. with. me — wonderful art bellow by @nramv

things would be different if you weren't blatantly pressing your ass against ellie's belt, cause those feelings she exhaustingly told herself not to have? — she suffering from all of them.

it may have to be with the outfit or the lack of it, the way your long, pointed nails scratch over her naked arms. but it's the perfect combination to make all this façade of having her life already sorted out fall apart to the ground when she recently signed up her divorce papers and she's there, getting a lap dance from this girl she really, really fucking likes, as if she wasn't slipping dollar bills beneath the thin strip of your underwear.

so she's been in a similar situation before, promising herself she wont ever step a fucking toe back in the club — she's not that kind of person anyway, the kind that salivates over strippers. the club's packed with men, and being the only girl there it's almost shameful as she has this need to go on and ask for a lap dance from you cause yeah she's greedy, greedy, spoiled, ravenous: ellie has now turned into a junkie trying to get more of their vices.

and in the secluded room, she forgets about previous inhibitions cause you're leaning against her, dancing along the sound of the music already sitting in her lap and her mind bubbles around this stupid rule, the one that forbids her to touch you under any sense of the word if she wants to keep her hands attached to her arms, but she's temped, tempted even when the security camera is pointing right in front of you two.

"yeah? that's what you'd like huh?" the sound of your voice is almost normal, a huge contrast when ellie's feeling like drowning, when the bass on the speaker’s so low it resonates in her damn heart, pouring all over her like ocean waves in the sand "want me to be your little spoiled slut? you'd buy me expensive gifts and get me out of this hellhole?"

ellie's glasses rest on the lower part of her nose, almost slipping as she looks up to you, cheeks blushed cause she's hella ashamed of it, hellhole. when she's in the club you almost rejoice in bliss happiness cause she has money, a pretty face, nice hands and more important — she's not a pervert guy.

there's a huge difference between a perverted guy and a perverted girl in your brain — cause while 50-years-old trying to hit on you disgust you, she's in her 30's and in the best fucking moment of her life and you’re struggling to not ask her to touch you.

"i- fuck. i really don't know why i'm here" ellie admitted the first time after seeing your pole routine of a much shorter version of bauhaus's 'bela lugosi's death', conflicted as you're pushed to talk to her because of your boss: business, it's fucking business "don't know how this works."

"you should ask me for a private dance," you reply, of course you want to dance for her, feel her closer and she won’t say no, no when your index finger trail down her collarbone "maybe you can start finding out by that."

there's something insanely hot about the idea of taking a woman so put together completely apart. ellie knows that, you do. so when she comes back again two nights after, and every-single-time after that, she makes sure to ask for you, name loud and clear in her lips as she enters and you know, just know it's going to be a good night — please, fucking pay for me the rest of the night.

wrong. sets back feminism at least 30 years, but ellie's there anyway, seated like she is during various times the week, letting you take control of her cause it's just what she needs, comfortably seated on a velvet couch with you on top; it seems like the cure to all her ruins — how is she not going to be infatuated with you? how is she not going to suffer from withdrawal when she don't see you for days?

"you know i can," she replies, and your skin shivers against the serious tone in her voice, almost recovered from her sore throat as she takes a sip from the heavy glass of neat whiskey in the table next to the seat "i can afford your lifestyle if that's what you're asking. let me take care of you."

she don't know what's so funny, what entertains you so much as you giggle on top of her, but ellie's distracted as she stares at the tiny underwear you're wearing, the friction between you and her as her fingers ache to reach and touch you, make the triangle on your ass to the damn side.

the sound of your laugh catches her off-guard, and she don’t think when her hand gently pushes you down, making you rest your weight against her legs and let yourself rub your thin underwear in her jeans: sin feels good when you do it right cause shit if it's not the best thing in the world when you're taking her hands in between yours, polished and soft, they guide ellie into your sides, allowing her to trail down your body before giving a sly look to the camera, almost afraid you're going to be caught.

leaving her hands in your thighs seems an invitation cause your movements get slower. fuck the song, if someone's looking, let the lucky bastard live enough to see ellie's hand rub circles in the skin of your inner leg, close to the little outfit you're pulling and barely manages to cover your cunt.

your back presses against her chest, resting against her frame as you move your hips in slow circles, making ellie feel the scent of your perfume in her nose, the way it lingers in the air surrounding the private room.

"ask me again," you whisper, and her gaze lingers in the front part of your body as you lay on top of her: the curves on your skin, the silver and glittery fabric that cover your tits — nipples hard beneath as she has the damn need to use her right hand to do something much better than just sweetly touching your fucking leg "i'll be your good new wife, let you whine about your important job, fuck the stress out of you, all domestic and shit."

it's the way you say it, how you move on top of her, the sparkles splattered in your skin that makes you seem almost ethereal, however it makes ellie moan as she's nodding already on an invisible leash you tied around her neck from the very first time she came, intoxicating, her right hand moves from your leg to your hip, back to your navel and up to your very ribs.

"they are going to see that," you said, the camera always a fucking reminder of her ripping need to have a bit of decency, self-control as ellie's cheeks turn red — "you cannot touch me, love."

"to be fair at this point club 976's alive thanks to me" draining her money cent by fucking cent, she’s sure she keeps the place rolling during the week "so let them be pissed, m'snatching their best worker and takin' her away from this dump anyway."

it must be evil, should be if it isn't, cause just like you landed on her lap you're swiftly turning to face her as you dance, dragging your nails across her chest as from this angle, she becomes aware of your barely covered pussy that grinds against her legs; yeah, she has a much better view of your fingers slipping beneath her belt, of you basking in bliss almost unaware of how stupid ellie’s left when you're around.

"you really mean that?" you ask almost like it's a secret, and she’s smashed with this need of pulling you into a kiss, get lost in the threads of your hair “don’t fuck with me ellie.”

"i'll pay for your nails," her words are warm, her breathing now heavier as her fingers toy with the hem of your underwear: one little tug and it will surely let ellie see your soaked folds, sure you're wet when she see's the splotch in your underwear, the darker hue right between your legs "your clothes, fuck. i'll take you to fancy restaurants anything you want, just- just say you let me."

she can’t pay for interest, that reaction you got when moving on top of her, that almost silent moan you make as you dance or grind to seek for more friction. fuck it, she really don’t know it at this point.

“that’s enough for fifteen minutes,” she’s not aware also of the other people in the room until you’re standing up and she’s going to whine about the lack of touch until you’re screaming at the guard that’s yanking her outside the club — “respect the girls or don’t fucking show up here, got it?”

“outside,” she manages to says to you as she’s being pulled away “ah fuck off man- i’ll wait for you outside!”

the biggest surprise of the night though? she was serious, dead fucking serious; so when you’re leaving the club at almost five in the morning, she’s smoking there, back against her black mercedes as she tilts her head satisfied you’re looking out for her.

yes, ellie williams’s leash is tied to this pretty stripper she has in her sheets, spread over her kitchen island, under the cascading water of her shower, wearing her shirt, eating her food, taking her life — hand-cuffed.

i totally envision it and i’m getting brainrot about rich and divorced!ellie whos ex wife hates you when noticing how fucked up you have her already, wrapped around your finger — ellie’s important to her clearly and you’re quickly becoming a distraction: too much weed, late nights talking, buying you clothes, not picking up the damn phone. shocking cause makes ellie miss up work one morning since you convinced her to call in sick: yeah she’s important to the company, but why can’t she spend just one little morning with you? just one. cross your heart cause you’ll make her time worth it.

she likes it even when you’re a danger to her lifestyle, when you’re slipping inside her office after your collage classes (same ones she’s already offering to pay), and you go there sitting on her lap as ellie tries to be concentrated in reading this paper about the growing insides of the economy for tomorrow, but you’re making it hard to keep her attention in her best behaviour when you’re leaning to see more of her work curious about it, and she has the best view she could ever ask from your bare back and those pajama shorts you use to roam around her penthouse.

so politely fuck work. ellie’s planting some wet kisses on your back, her fingers tug on your crop top and suddenly, you’re leaving wrinkles over her papers cause you’re gripping the wood desk too hard in hopes to hold onto anything, anything that connects you to earth and prevents you from spiraling. shit, shit, shit. how did it end up like that? how she’s so quick to make you stand between her legs? to bend so she can shove her fingers on your already wet pussy? it’s so easy for her to reduce you to this state, this plain mess. her gaze seems to burn holes in your skin, wanting to say something about you ruining her work, yet her mind does not function when she cannot say nothing more than, — “that’s it- can you bend for me? cheek against the desk baby.”

her free hand holds on the fabric of your short and your panties to the side, keeping them hooked in a finger as she uses it to make you move, a gentle pull that invites you to roll your hips back to meet her digits again before she’s slowly shoving a third finger inside and yeah, work can wait.

“faster,” you ask, a lewd sound filling the air when your arousal drips on her hand, coates her palm and makes your folds glisten in evidence of your needs, only gaining a needy sound in return when she’s compelled to follow your orders, keep you satisfied “fuck ellie- s’good you’re filling me so damn good.”

it’s dangerous cause she’s driven by your words, those sounds she loves to hear, the way you seem to suck her fingers deep inside until she’s curling them to rub on your velvety walls, that spot you overly enjoy and ellie discovered during the week: sure.

work can wait for an hour or two, she has better things to take care of now.

[sanatomis]

cw. female!reader, satoru who goes absolutely crazy each time you put it back in after it slips out.

the first time it happens is on accident. 

he’s too caught up in the way the fat of your ass jiggles with each deep thrust, too mesmerised in the feel of your soft skin between his fingertips as he gives one of your cheeks a firm squeeze. satoru’s lust-riddled brain simply didn’t take note of the way his hips started to move a little too fast, a little too quick. 

all he’s able to focus on as he takes you from behind is you, you, you—and certainly not the way his heavy cock suddenly slips out of your slippery cunt. a few drops of pre-cum dribble down the base as he involuntarily pulls out, some of it staining the back of your thighs. there’s not a lot of time to process the fact, as he’s back inside your dripping pussy almost instantly. 

your greedy hands reach for him immediately, securely wrapping around his base and slamming your hips back against his once he’s lined up again. there’s not even a chance for him to miss the warmth of your sweet pussy.

you wouldn’t even let him. 

satoru is pretty sure he’s going to cum on the spot at the realisation, and has to really, really fight himself not to finish prematurely. a deep groan rumbles from his chest, eyes almost rolling to the back of his head, as he thinks about how quick, how disguistingly eager you were as you scrambled to put him back inside. 

as if that slutty hole of yours can’t even go a second without being filled by him. 

a string of curse words tumble past his lips, and he fucks you a little harder than usual that night. 

since then, satoru’s been subtly letting himself slip out of your cunt each time the two of you have sex. the physical aspect of it isn’t hard; you’re always so incredibly wet, he’s out in a second. mentally, he’s at war with himself—though, seeing you whine and whimper as you hastily reach for his cock again makes those few agonising seconds without your warmth all worth it. 

something about the gesture makes you look desperate, impatient, and it’s all for him. and fuck, did it turn him on. 

there’s one time where he briefly suspects you’re onto him and his antics, as you insist on riding him. on being in control. it’s not something you do often, though usually he fucking loves it when you do (he still does, admittedly)—but with you on top and holding the reigns, it removes his opportunity to see you scramble to put his fat cock back inside. 

but, he’s nothing if not an optimist, so, of course, he’ll make the best of the situation. 

with the way they bounce so prettily in front of him as you rock your hips back and forth, he’s almost incapable of not sucking on them. and so, he decides to stifle his previous complaints by taking a mouthful of your tits. there’s always next time, and as he sucks on your breasts and feels you move up-and-down, he completely forgets about his former plans. 

riding him was simply one of your whims, it turns out, and the next time the two of you have sex he’s back in his usual spot. and the time after that, and after that, and after that—and as long as he’s there, he’ll keep making you desperetaly stuff his cock back inside. 

satoru’s breathing heavily now, the mere thought of it (combined with your walls griping around him like a vice) almost enough to make him dizzy. with your legs over his shoulders and thighs pressed up against your chest, cheeks stained with dried tears and soft, high-pitched moans and hiccups leaving your lips—he can’t help but feel the familiar itch to ruin your fun.

even if it’s just for a little bit.

he does so at once. the mixed release of both you and him from previous rounds leak out of you as he does so, and your pussy twitches around absolutely nothing. 

immediately, you frown. it’s small, cute, almost, and then your hands search for his cock again. though, this time, the position he (very purposefully) put you in makes it difficult—satoru fights off a grin as you scrunch your nose in dissatisfaction. 

“. . .’toru,” you mumble, and attempt to grab him again. your voice is hoarse, broken from the sweet noises you’ve made for him so far. “wh—what’re you doing?”

“hm?” he hums. 

a little smile settles on his lips as he prods your entrance with his tip, smearing the cum—most of it his—along your puffy folds. he toys with your pussy, the squelching sounds as he moves his cock near your cunt (but never quite in it) feeling like absolute music to his ears.

he hears you sniff. “. . .’toru,” you mumble, voice a soft whine. you try moving closer to him, to push yourself down on him, but he simply pushes your thighs harder against your chest. “please, j—just. . .”

satoru fakes a dramatic sigh. “you’re so spoiled,” he comments, and relishes in the way your eyes roll back as he slides back in all at once. “so, incredibly spoiled.” he tuts, starting his thrusts again. he brings his face closer to yours, as if it’d make him hear all your pitiful sounds better. “can’t even go a second without my cock, can you? ‘t slips out for a second, and my pretty girl’s already whining.” 

he doesn’t get a proper response out of you, but that’s okay. he doesn’t need to. there’s no sweeter sound than your fucked-out babbles, anyway.

and they often sound even sweeter after he temporarily deprives you of his cock. 

satoru smirks as he looks down at you.

no, he’s definitely not stopping this any time soon. 

[darth-memes]

Look, I know the situation was awful for the characters. But this made me happy in a way I cannot properly express.

This is Montserrat:

Anyway, time to yap about it under the cut.

It's one of the most important religious sites in Catalonia where I live. It's about one hour away from Barcelona and it is absolutely beautiful.

The building you see there? It's an abbey that has there for over a thousand years. It has survived invasions, fascist dictatorships and many other things and it is still at the center of catalan culture. It has one of the biggest libraries of the country and the oldest boy choir in Europe.

I have an uncle who is a high-ranking monk there so, we have known for years that Lucasfilms was doing something there but until recently we didn't know it was Andor. And I couldn't be happier with the result. I'm not a religious person, but I'm very close with my culture and Montserrat is part of it. Again, it is not that what was in the episode was a terrible situation, but still there were a couple of details that I loved.

The first was the wedding hike. Many people do a pilgrimage to Montserrat, you can get there walking (though if you go I recommend taking the train) and even if it was in a different context I loved seeing this element included in the episode. Also, the part were Mon Mothma says: "Gaze through the ancestral lands, some children sing, the elder waves her hand and we are all purified." Yeah, that sounds exactly like Montserrat. Again, terrible situation for the characters, but it's there! They filmed some scenes in Montserrat and incorporated elements that feel like it!

The other one was the statue that was unveiled in the wedding. Though there is certain tones of colonialism to the gesture, if you know ANYTHING about catalan culture and it's history, you know how to this day, Spain and France have done their best to erase or assimilate it. The language, the culture... The day this episode came out was Sant Jordi, which is one of the most important festivities in Catalonia, one which Spain has been trying to assimilate as "El día del Libro", but traditionally, it has been a catalan festivity.

Montserrat has also been affected because of that during it's long history. And what do they return? They return is a statue!

Guess what's inside Montserrat?

This is La Mare de Déu de Montserrat (Our Lady of Montserrat) or La Moreneta. And, alongside Sant Jordi (Saint George in English) is the patronness saint of Catalonia. It has been in the abbey since it's founding, and although it has never been stolen like the statue in Andor, it has been hidden several times to protect against invaders. It's one of the most important symbols to our people.

So yeah, even though the situation of the characters in Andor it's shitty and not good, I can't believe that it took Montserrat to become Chandrila to see one of the pieces of my culture represented in a big production.

It's kind of bittersweet, because again, it's a terrible situation for Mon Mothma and Leida, but the bits and pieces that relate to Montserrat i found them beautiful and even more respectful than Spanish and French media usually depict (catalans are usually depicted as cold and greedy people who only think of money, when we are not erased all together from the narrative).

If you want to know more, this user has several posts about it:

Thanks!

[skzstarl0ver]

ᴅʀᴜɴᴋ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ꜱᴏʙᴇʀ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛꜱ

Lee Felix x reader / best friends to lovers / smut → angst / drunk!Felix

**involves!!** alcohol, drunken actions, sex, make out

enjoy xx (open for request)

★.•☆•.★★.•☆•.★¸.•☆•.¸★ skzstarl0ver ★⡀.•☆•.★⡀.•☆•.★¸.•☆•.¸★

The party was still echoing in your ears, even as you half-carried Felix through the quiet dorm hallways.

He was warm and heavy against your side, one arm slung around your shoulder, head lolling just slightly as he muttered nonsense under his breath. Every few steps, he giggled — at nothing in particular, just the kind of laughter that only came from a few too many drinks and a head full of stars.

"You good?" you asked, adjusting his arm as you passed the stairwell.

"Mhm," he hummed. "You're warm."

"You’re wasted," you replied, trying not to laugh, even as your heart did a weird little flutter thing. He always did that to you — without even trying.

Felix and you had been best friends for what felt like forever. He was the kind of constant in your life that never needed defining. Always there. Always close. Maybe too close, according to everyone else. “You guys are basically married,” Chan had said once. You'd laughed. Felix hadn’t.

You reached his door, fishing for his keys in his hoodie pocket. He rested his chin on your shoulder, exhaling softly.

"You smell good," he murmured.

"Felix—"

"I love you, you know... so much."

You froze.

His voice was suddenly quiet, too clear. Too real.

When you turned, he was already staring at you. His smile had faded, replaced by something softer, deeper. Glassy eyes. Barely-there breath. The air between you shifted — like the moment before a storm or a kiss.

"Felix, you're drunk," you said, but it came out like a whisper. Like a lie.

Then he kissed you.

Messy. Sweet. Desperate.

His hands were in your hair, on your waist, pulling you closer like he’d been waiting his whole life to do this. And you—God—you kissed him back.

Because maybe you’d been waiting too.

The keys slipped from your hand, clinking to the floor unnoticed. You barely made it inside the dorm before he was pressing you against the door, lips hot and searching, breath shaky like he couldn’t get enough of you. His hands wandered — greedy and clumsy — under your shirt, along your waist, up your spine.

“Tell me to stop,” he breathed, his forehead pressed against yours, voice wrecked.

You didn’t.

You grabbed his hoodie, pulled it over his head, kissed him like you needed him to understand something words couldn’t say.

He made this sound — low and raw in the back of his throat — and then he was everywhere. Mouth on your neck, teeth grazing skin, tongue warm as he kissed down to your collarbone. His hands slipped under the waistband of your jeans like he couldn’t wait another second, and you let him.

You wanted him.

You always had.

His room was dim, lit only by the streetlamp outside. Clothes hit the floor in between kisses and gasps and stumbling laughter, the kind that only came when you wanted someone so badly it scared you.

When your back hit the mattress, he paused — just long enough to look at you. Really look at you.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, almost to himself.

And then his mouth was on your chest, his hands sliding down your thighs, spreading you open with a reverence that didn’t match how drunk he was. Like his body remembered even if his mind was foggy. Like he knew exactly what you needed.

“Felix—” you moaned, hands threading through his hair.

“Tell me what you want,” he mumbled against your skin, lips moving lower, slower, dragging heat with them.

“You.”

That was all it took.

He pulled you to the edge of the bed, lined himself up with shaking hands. Pressed in slow. Inch by inch. His head dropped to your shoulder, a shudder rolling through him.

“Fuck,” he whispered, and you felt it too — the stretch, the fullness, the way he held you like he’d fall apart if he let go.

And then he moved.

Sloppy at first. Like he couldn’t control himself. Deep, slow thrusts, building into something frantic. His name fell from your lips over and over. And he just kept saying yours — like a prayer, like a secret, like he was scared to forget it.

It wasn’t perfect. It was messy and breathless and urgent.

But it felt like everything.

And when he came — face buried in your neck, body trembling, voice breaking — it sounded like love.

_

The sunlight was soft when you woke up — too soft. It filtered through the half-open blinds in stripes across the sheets, warm against your bare skin. The room smelled like Felix’s cologne and sweat and sleep. Familiar, but changed.

You didn’t open your eyes at first. You just… lay there. Listening to the quiet. The ache between your legs a dull reminder that it hadn’t been a dream.

Last night happened.

The kisses, the way he said I love you, the way he held you — like he needed you, like he meant every desperate whisper. The way your name spilled from his lips when he came, like it was the only thing anchoring him to earth.

You’d never felt so wanted.

You’d never wanted anything more.

And then— A rustle. The creak of the bed. Movement.

Your eyes blinked open, slow, adjusting to the light.

Felix was sitting on the edge of the mattress, pulling a shirt over his head, back turned to you. His hair was still a little messy. There were faint red marks on his neck — from you. You traced one with your gaze and your chest squeezed.

He didn’t look back.

“You’re up,” you said softly, voice still rough with sleep.

“Shit,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “What time is it?”

You glanced at your phone on the floor. “Almost nine.”

He turned around then — halfway — and gave you a crooked smile. “Damn. I drank way too much last night.”

You waited. Just waited.

“Did I… do anything stupid?” he asked, tone light, almost teasing.

And just like that — You felt it. The shift. The drop.

You swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. “No.”

He didn’t notice. Just let out a breath of relief. “Good. I blacked out a little, I think. Last thing I remember is you helping me get my keys.”

Your whole body stilled.

That was hours before he kissed you. Before he said I love you. Before he pulled you into his bed and whispered your name like it was a confession.

He didn’t remember.

He didn’t remember any of it.

“Oh,” you said quietly. “Yeah. You were pretty out of it.”

Felix stood up, stretching with a groan. “Ugh. I need water. And maybe to never drink again.”

You nodded. Watched him walk to the kitchen area in his boxers, humming a song like the floor hadn’t just dropped out from under you.

It was stupid to expect more. He was drunk. He didn’t mean it. He forgot.

But you didn’t.

You remembered everything.

The way he kissed you like you were more than just a friend. The way he touched you like he knew your body already. The way he held you afterward — tight, gentle, lips at your temple.

It wasn’t just sex. Not to you.

And now, you were stuck.

You could tell him. Admit it meant something. That it meant everything to you.

Or—

You could pretend it never happened.

Pretend you didn’t feel all the things he doesn’t even remember.

You pulled the blanket around yourself and stared at the ceiling.

Your heart whispered one thing. Your pride whispered another.

And Felix? He was laughing softly to himself in the kitchen, pouring cereal. Still yours. Still not yours.

_

You didn’t mean to avoid him. Not really.

It just… happened.

At first, it was small stuff. Delayed texts. One-word replies. Saying you were “busy” when you weren’t. You skipped lunch. Left a group hang early. And every time he asked what was up, you dodged it with a joke or a shrug or nothing at all.

You didn’t know what to say. Hey, remember when we had drunk sex and you told me you loved me, and then woke up with zero memory of it? Yeah, that kinda messed me up lol.

It was easier to act normal. Even when normal didn’t feel normal anymore.

Even when you kept thinking about the way he touched you that night — like it wasn’t his first time doing it in his head.

Even when you still remembered the exact way he whispered “I love you,” like it was a truth trying to claw its way out of his chest.

And now?

Now you couldn’t look at him without wondering how much of that was real.

It had been almost a week.

You were curled up in your hoodie on the couch, scrolling aimlessly, when your phone lit up.

felix [10:04pm] hey. can we talk? i’ll come to you. just tell me if you’re home.

You stared at the screen for a while. Thumb hovering. Considering.

Then: you [10:06pm] sure.. i’m home.

You didn’t expect him to show up so fast.

A knock on your door barely five minutes later. You opened it mid-sigh, like you were bracing for something bigger than it was — and there he was. Felix. Hoodie, beanie, nervous hands in his pockets. Cheeks a little pink from the cold.

He gave you a small, awkward smile.

“Hey.”

You stepped aside and let him in.

He stood in your living room like it was unfamiliar, even though he’d crashed here a hundred times before. Slept on your couch. Hogged your blankets. Used your charger like it was his.

Now? He looked like he didn’t know where to stand.

You watched him scratch the back of his neck. “I know you’ve been weird with me all week.”

You gave him a look. “Wow. Subtle.”

He laughed — soft, sheepish. “Okay, yeah, I mean. It’s kinda obvious.”

You sat on the edge of the couch, pulling your knees up under you. “So what are you here for?”

“I… don’t really know.” He looked at you, then down at his shoes. “I’ve just been thinking. A lot. About that night.”

Your heart did a weird skip thing.

He wasn’t drunk now. His voice was steady. Careful. Which somehow made it worse.

“What about it?” you asked.

He sat down — not next to you, but across from you, on the armchair. Like there was some unspoken rule now. A line he wasn’t sure he could cross again.

“I didn’t remember anything the next morning,” he said slowly. “And I didn’t wanna make it worse by guessing. I didn’t wanna be that guy who’s like, ‘Did we…?’ you know?”

You just nodded.

“So I played it off like I didn’t know anything,” he said. “Because I was scared. And I thought maybe you wanted to pretend it didn’t happen.”

“I didn’t,” you said quickly. “Well—I didn’t know what you wanted. And I wasn’t gonna be the idiot who brings it up just to be like, ‘Hey, by the way, I think I caught feelings while you were blackout making out with me.’”

He let out a breath. Something between a laugh and a sigh.

“I didn’t mean to forget,” he said. “And I definitely didn’t mean to make you feel forgotten.”

You glanced at him. “But you do remember now?”

He nodded. “Bits and pieces. Enough. You in my lap. Your shirt coming off. You looking at me like…”

“Like what?” you asked, quieter now.

“Like I wasn’t just your best friend anymore.”

That shut you up for a second.

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

“Was I wrong?”

You didn’t know how to answer that. Because no, he wasn’t wrong. But this wasn’t exactly how you imagined this moment would go. You weren’t supposed to be in your oldest sweatpants with a bag of chips between you and zero clue what to say.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly. “I don’t know what it was supposed to mean.”

He tilted his head. “What did it mean to you?”

You hesitated. “That I trust you. That I care about you. And that maybe I was hoping you meant what you said.”

“I did,” he said quickly. “I just… said it at the worst possible time.”

You gave him a look. “You think?”

He smiled, almost shy. “I’m serious. I’ve probably been in love with you longer than I’ve realized. That night just ripped the bandaid off.”

There was a long, awkward beat.

Then he added, “You know, in a very sexy, very emotionally chaotic way.”

You snorted — actual laughter slipping out. The first real one all week.

He grinned. “There she is.”

You sighed, burying your face in your hands for a second. “This is so dumb.”

“Yeah,” he said. “But I’d still rather be dumb with you.”

You peeked up at him. “So what now?”

He shrugged. “We could stop avoiding each other. Maybe hang out again. Maybe kiss when I’m not drunk this time?”

You raised a brow. “You sure you can handle that?”

He smirked. “You’re the one who jumped me last time.”

“I did not—” you started, throwing a pillow at him, and he caught it, laughing.

And just like that, the air shifted.

Still uncertain. Still complicated.

But not broken.

Not anymore.

[maritoke]

I finally finished them, oh lord. Swap Ancients (and Elder Faerie (he's here along for the ride, poor guy)) for my swap au. They were the ones who had the original souljams firsts, now they're beasts

Some info on Swap Ancients (might change--):

Divine Vanilla Cookie: once a traveling healer blessed by the virtue of knowledge. Through out his travels, he had seen how plagued the world was by evil and cruelty. How many cookies had died young, how many good man had turned bad due to too many woes and problems, how time spared none. But it could be reversed could it not? There were the spells that allowed one to control time. World was cruel yet it was beautiful nontheless. Why not let everyone expierience it? Why not create a paradise on earth where the is no illness nor any woes? Why not erase the very death itself? He was granted immortality, was he not? Is he not benevolent for wanting to share it with others?

Lovebug Lilies Cookie: Once two cookies with separate minds and bodies. Now two souls sharing one vessel. White Lily would always search for the truth. Cookie kind deserved to know why were they created. Despite being granted the virtue of solidarity, her purpose was uncertain to her. Why she? Why not anyone else? In her search she had found Faerie Kingdom, where she befriended their king. But when she was about to leave, Elder Faerie joined her. Not wanting her to possibly face cruel truth alone. When she fell into the raw dough after witnessing the cruelty of their creators Elder Faerie tried to get her out. Sadly he was pushed into it along with her. Now, rebaked as one, they share the idea to keep the truth a secret forever. To sever the connection between the entirety of humankind and cookies. Cookies deserved to not be burdened with such pitiful legacy.

Berserk Cacao Cookie: How one responds in the most critical moments can say a lot about a person. Fear is one of the most basic emotions, and true warrior keeps going despite dreading the outcome of the battle. The stronger the enemy the more fear he strikes into his opponent. Dark Cacao was once known as the strongest warrior and king. The stories of him inspired both awe and striked fear. Though, as the climate got harsher and harsher, the cratures got more and more vile, until finally two dragons became a threat. And Dark Cacao would protect his people regardless of what they thought of him. After all no one would dare to attack the dragon slayer. In face of fear, one fights, freezes or flees. And he would always fight. For outsiders shall dread the king who won't back down. Who won't stop until the threat is gone.

Claretberry Cookie: The ever joyous queen, chershied each and every moment she spend with her friends and family. However as time went on she saw many of her friends and family grow old. Time and time again. Outliving them repeatedly. The joy soon started to fade away leaving only an empty space. So she slowly gave in to pleasure. Be it from drinking juice, throwing a thousandth party, or fighting for fun. It did bring her pleasure. It wasn't the same as real happiness, but it was good. It numbed the mind and filled it with forced dopamine. And her people? Well, Hollyberry Kingdom was always well known for being full of various sorts of entertainment. The decadency started to grow on others almost seemlessly.

Radiant Cheese Cookie: Ever as greedy, she cared for her kingdom the most. She brought good change to everyone but saved the best for her own. However not all change is good, and sooner or later even the strongest of empires need to fall. Be it because of a foe from the outside... or because of the fault within. She refused to let her kingdom fall, and so she started to plunder nearby cities for their goods and resources. After all she needed them more. Her people needed them more. With time, the need turned into want. For she'd rather take from others than see her kingdom change, see it rust. It is pure gold to her. And everyone knows pure gold cannot possibly rust or tarnish.

[thisrots]

princess reader x thief vi drabble

; warnings: riding (tribbing?), top!vi x sub!reader, biting, drool, hate fucking but not really, forbidden sex

As the future ruler of Piltover, you had many responsibilities. Helping keep the people safe, making harsh decisions, and putting on your best face for everyone were some of the few that mattered most. As time consuming and stressful the position was, one could only take on so much at a time without some kind of… relief.

Sure, masturbating did it for you most of the time, but it never quite reached that itch that still buzzed at you after you finished. No matter what you tried; your fingers, toys, pillows, there was always that spot you just couldn’t pleasure enough. You craved something more, something real, someone real. Not just anyone—

Violet Lanes.

She was a cold hard thief, wanted by your parents, who put a hefty bounty over her. Your citizens tore their own heads off, running around like crazed chickens trying to find her and get the reward. But Vi was smart, she knew her way around Piltover, and knew her way around you. While everyone searched high and low for her, she was right above their heads in your room, gripping onto your ass as you shamelessly rut into her cunt. The room was heavy with the squelching noises of mixed wetness, pants, moans, and the smell of forbidden sex. She laid there, working her hips against your drippy cunt as you rode her. She had a smirk on her stupid, hot face, looking oh so proud of herself.

“Geez, Princess. You’re quite greedy, aren’t you?” Vi said in between pants, guiding your thrusts with her hands, making sure she rubbed against just the right spot, making your breath hitch.

You could tell she was doing it on purpose, trying to break down your barriers. Your eyebrows furrowed, fighting the pleasure as best as you could to show disdain, teeth gritting before you spoke. “What—Mmh! Whatever… do you mean?” Your bud was constantly rubbing against hers, eyes rolling back as your hands gripped onto her breasts.

“Well, think of all those poor citizens out there looking for me right now. Ripping their hair out with frustration, and I’m right here, letting their precious Princess ride me. And your parents, Gods don’t even get me started on—”

You cut off her taunting by crashing your lips into hers, sliding your tongue in her mouth as you savored her saliva, making her groan in the process. You pulled away, string stuck between yours and her lips, feeling a warmness spread throughout your lower stomach. “Vi, shut up… S’close…!”

She scoffed, opening her legs up more so you could grind against her whole cunt, your clit smothered with her juices. Your back arched, moans growing louder until she reached over and stuffed her fingers in your mouth. “Actually, I think it’s you who needs to shut up.” Your tongue swirled around her salty digits, sucking on them as your orgasm crept up on you. Vi’s egotistical eyes were fixed on nothing but you, completely eating up the fact that you were naked and vulnerable. She probably felt like she one upped the system, but for some reason, that thought made you even closer. The friction between the two of you was indescribable, unbearable, better than any gourmet meal or anything money could buy. This is what your body so badly needed, what it was craving. It craved the worst person in Piltover, the one that could fuck up your whole royal life if anyone found out.

This orgasm wasn’t like the ones you’d had during your alone time, this one rode out. You felt it at your thighs at first, a tingle that quickly turned into bursting jolts all throughout your body. You stiffened up, drooling and biting on her fingers, damn near drawing blood as you came all over her cunt. You didn’t care how pathetic you looked to her in that moment, you were drunk off nothing but Violet. She reached hers soon after, throwing her head back as she felt your hole dripping cum along her sensitive clit. You threw your body on her, sweaty skin touching, panting as her arms wrapped around you. Your body tensed up, scoffing at her touch, looking up at her face that had a grin plastered on it. You scoffed and glared. “You know, I truly hate you.”

She laughed, poking your nose, making you scrunch it up. You pulled away, sitting up and crossing your arms, staring at the naked, stupidly sexy woman laying in your satin sheets. “You sure about that, Princess?”

should i write more? 🤨

[coquettefrancaise]

the other woman

by Lana Del Rey

pair: Azriel x Reader ~ 1.9k

warnings: fluff, a few sexual references, one enormous cat lol

summary: after being mated for nearly a decade, Azriel has kept a huge secret of special females in his life from you… and they're not a part of the inner circle

Normally you didn’t like to poke fun at outward appearances but you just had to make an exception for the figure standing in front of you. You could come up with a few apt descriptions for it: fat, chunky, sturdy, well-fed… enormous. The latter seemed to fit perfectly. 

You’d been tending to your garden when you heard a soft meow. Sitting just outside the picket fence of your property was an enormous siamese cat. Incandescent blue eyes watched your every move with an intense, albeit bored, gaze. 

Standing and brushing off your outdoor trousers, you approached the cat with careful steps. It simply watched, unamused with your caution. “Why hello there kitty,” you cooed, hand outreached. 

Azriel had taught you long ago that you should wait for animals to approach you to avoid having their claws sunken in your skin. The same also went for strange males. 

So you waited. And waited. 

Apparently this cat, who appeared to have eaten multiple other cats, wished to test your patience as its eyes flickered from your hand to your face. Almost mockingly. 

You rolled your eyes and searched for something within reach that might lure it closer when you remembered something. Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out a wrinkled bag of dried apricot, forgotten in the back of your mind as you pulled weeds and prepared the soil for planting. 

The cat’s ears perked up at the crinkling of the bag and you smirked.

You tore a smaller piece of apricot off and got into position once more. To your unsurprise, the cat prowled, or rather sashayed, to your offering, nipping it from your fingers before nosing your palm for more. 

“Greedy little shit,” you huffed under your breath before giving it another and another until it was practically purring on your lap. Your hand petted over its soft fur, warmed from being under the springtime sun as you clicked your tongue affectionately. “Would you like to meet my husband? He might be a little intimidating at first but I assure you he’s a sweetheart under all his gruff.”

The cat continued purring in response so you scooped her into your arms, along with the half-eaten bag of dried apricots to satiate her if needs be, and headed inside. “Who needs Valkyrie training when I could carry you all day?”

Once inside, you took off the gardening hat Elain had given you for a Solstice gift one year. She’d been the one to teach you how to maintain soil best and which season was best to grow what. Before her help, you had never managed to keep a succulent alive, despite it being the ‘easiest plant to take care of’. You called bullshit. But now you were a proud owner of not one but two! garden boxes.

On slow days like this where you and Azriel had no social or work obligations, you enjoyed either having your hand buried in soil or your nose buried in a book. Azriel would keep to his study, unable to disregard centuries of overworking, or he’d annoy you. Which would end with either his hand or head up your skirts. Who were you to complain? 

You forewent washing your hands, not wanting to let go of the behemoth of a cat in your arms, and you strode directly for the study, pushing it open to reveal your mate in all his glory. 

Even though you’d been mated for nearly a decade, every time you saw him your heart sped and your tummy fluttered with butterflies. He was signing reports, raven hair falling over his furrowed tan brow. “Brought a visitor, my love?” His midnight voice caressed your ears despite not looking up. 

You caught sight of a dark wisp racing from your shoe to his shoulder. Sometimes you forgot he kept tabs on you ‘for safety and protection’ he once told you. To some it may seem a violation of privacy but if it eased Azriel’s worries over you then you were fine with it. Besides, you’ve come to adore the tendrils of darkness. 

You hauled the cat further up in your arms, grunting with the effort. “This enormous creature was prowling about my gardens, in search of something to eat, no doubt.”

Azriel finally straightened and blinked. “Shadow is always hungry, as you can tell.” He motioned to her excessive pouch. 

You gaped. “Shadow?”

He got to his feet and crossed to where you stood, the scent of night-chilled mist and cedar clouded your senses. One of his large scarred hands stroked the cat, Shadow, with a confusing familiarity. 

“I forget that I don’t need to keep secrets from you after spending my entire life doing so with everyone else around me.” He confessed sheepishly, hazel eyes connecting with yours. 

“First question: if this cat is named Shadow, then what are the names of your actual shadows?”

He shrugged, the shadows in question wreathing his broad shoulders and the tips of his wings which protruded from his back. One strayed, curling around the nape of your neck. “They became angry with me the first time I referred to them as one entity so I’ve thrown out dozens of names with no direct association to one exact wisp.” He explained coolly. 

You giggled at that. “Your enemies would quake in their boots if they heard how sympathetic and fair you are with your shadows which have been known to choke men out from the inside, you know?”

A corner of his lip turned up. “They wouldn’t be quite so scared if they saw the way my shadows cuddle up next to my wife in the early hours of the day.”

“I suppose not.” Pink dusted your cheeks and you cleared your throat. “Back to the matter at hand. The cat.” I lifted my arms for emphasis. “How long have you been seeing her behind my back?”

Azriel plucked her from your arms, cradling her to his chest as if he’d done so a hundred times. “Oh, this old lady? She’s been in my life longer than you have, my love. I believe she might be older than me as well.”

“She’s probably as old as she weighs.”

He snorts at that amusedly. “Where’d you find her?”

“I told you, she was scouring my garden for food. I gave her some dried apricot and lured her into my arms. She is quite a stink, you know?”

“It’s the breed.” He informed you, petting his knuckle under her chin to which she melted further into him. Growing strangely jealous, you glared at her. Azriel noticed this with a chuckle and sent a fresh wave of love and amusement down the bond. “Jealous over a cat, my love?”

Insufferable male. 

“I heard that.” He laughed and you rolled your eyes. Insufferable mating bond. “Why don’t you just tell me how you know this cat. And why the hell is it so fat?” you snarked. 

A rare smile tugged at his lips. He leaned in close to brush them against the shell of your ear, sending shockwaves of pleasure down your spine. “No other creature could compare to you, darling mate. The way you squeeze my co-”

You silenced him with a hand clamped over his mouth, to which his eyes crinkled at. He pulled back before reaching a hand for yours. “I’m going to take you someplace only I know of.”

You press into his side and hesitantly. “I swear if it’s our room…” you warned. Soon the room around you disappears into darkness and then you’re in the backyard of Rosehall, Azriel’s mother’s cottage. You glance around, confused as to what he has to show you here. 

He tugs you towards the small shed in the corner of the yard, ivy growing along the stone walls and wooden door chipped from years of use. When you’d asked about this structure his mother had referred to it as her storage. You’d never been inside until now. 

Inside the surprisingly spacious shed were over a dozen cats. 

“Oh my gods,” you breathed, 

Azriel set down the enormous cat in his arms and she immediately strode to a tall scratching post, growling at any cat in her way. You couldn’t help but snicker at her asserted dominance. 

You looked to your husband, who you thought you knew everything about, and raised your brows for an explanation. 

He raked a hand through his hair and leaned his back against the doorframe. “About two centuries ago I was here, visiting my mother, when I had a little visitor come to my windowsill. I convinced mother to allow her to stay and so she fed her cream and treats everyday, spoiling the creature. That was Shadow. As you can see, she’s been used to the princess treatment and hugely fond of the food. Since then, I’d been on and off missions at the time and it seemed that every time I was away a new one would follow me. I couldn’t just leave them in those horrible places, so I brought them each here. It appears that I’m some sort of…”

“Pussy magnet.” You supplied before you burst into laughter. 

Azriel chucked a finger under your chin. “So it’s alright if you make jokes about that but not me? Besides, you fell victim as well, might I remind you.”

Heat flamed your cheeks and you snapped your teeth at his fingers. Damn him. 

He only smiled before continuing his story, “Anyway,” he gave you a pointed look to which you raised your hands in defence, “I built this shed for them and Shadow is basically their superior, as she’d prefer it to be put.”

"Big Sister, huh?" you nodded as you took in all the cats lounging about, a couple brushing their bodies against your legs. Although they were quite plump, none even came close to the enormity of Shadow.

How endearing, you thought as you practically melted on the spot. Surely no one would take a look at this six-foot something Illyrian male, with literal weaponized shadows at his beck and call, and peg him for someone who would adopt stray cats.

“You surprise me every single day, shadowsinger.” You looped your arms around his neck, pulling him down so your nose could rest against his. 

“In a good way I hope.” He whispered, fingers digging into your hips as he tugged you impossibly closer. 

You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Only ever in a good way.”

Before he could respond, a loud meow broke your moment. Glancing down, Shadow was at your feet, watching you both expectantly. You looked at Azriel once more, meeting his eyes, and you both giggled. 

“Hungry?” you inquired as you fished out the apricots once again, giving her a full one. One by one, the other cats sidled up to you, sniffing at your treat. “I’m not entirely sure I’ve enough to go around.”

Azriel walked over to a carpet covered armoire, probably used as a scratching post, and opened it to reveal that it was stocked with cat food. “That’s where that portion of money disappears to.” You click your tongue. 

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m still getting used to sharing all my truths with someone. I swear that after this I’ll do better.”

You pull his face down to pepper kisses on it. “I completely understand. You have so many enemies and so much to protect. If I were in your shoes I’d be just as guarded. And, if anything, it can’t be as bad as Cassian hiding his submissive kink from Nesta until he called her ‘mommy’ at that one family dinner.”

“Actually…”

author's note: this is an ode to my own fat cat <3 Jajeet... this one is for you!

I've admired this fandom for as long as I've had Tumblr, so over two years, and I've thought about writing for it and building a camaraderie with the talented artists I've read from so here I am, with my meager offering :)

divider credit: cafekitsune

[chiwhorei]

┊͙𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫┊͙

Pairing: big bro!Zayne (LaDS) x lil sis!reader

Tags: incest, corruption, virginity loss, wife-sistering, DARK CONTENT, MDNI

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who has always been this stoic. No seriously. He’s never been one to crack more than a half smile and the difference between his own nature and that of his sister’s has always been very obvious.

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who has is own ways of showing love, something only you have ever been privy to. He never had girlfriends, not even before the workload of med school, his residency, or his current practice. But he did always have you, his ever-so-sweet little sister.

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who isn’t one for grand gestures, but will, as patiently as he can muster, remind you to drink plenty of water, eat three meals a day, and stretch after long training sessions.

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who will help you after training too! He’ll hold you at your hips or trap your hands over your head to make sure your muscles get a nice deep stretch! You feel all kinds of dizzy and tingly when your brother touches you like that, but Zayne says that it’s normal. You can trust him, he’s a doctor!

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who convinces you to move into his fancy penthouse apartment after you join the Hunters. It’s closer to HQ, anyways.

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who assures you it isn’t weird if you sleep in the same bed. He just likes having his little sister close to him, that’s all!

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who shows you the sweetest sides of him when you’re wrapped up in bed on rainy mornings. He makes you feel things that boyfriends never did. His touch, his voice, the feeling of his hard chest under your cheek— it’s all so comforting and so confusing at the same time.

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who tells you that big brothers make the best boyfriends. And isn’t he always right? He doesn’t have the time or the desire to find a girlfriend. Plus, anyone he pursued would only ever be compared to you. And that’s a loosing game, because no one could ever compare in your big brother’s eyes.

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who takes your virginity against his bed a few days after you move in. He spends the entire evening lapping at your pussy and nuzzling his nose against your clit. He opens your pussy up on his tongue first, almost getting dizzy himself at the feeling of you squeezing around him. He tells you it’s okay to pull on his hair and that he doesn’t mind if you mess it up a little. As long as you’re feeling good, that’s all that matters.

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who shoves two long fingers into you with no warning just to hear you cry. You get used to the feeling after a few pumps of his wrist and he watches in awe as you grind down on his palm in search for another orgasm. “Already so greedy, what am I going to do with you?”

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who ignores his aching, leaking cock for hours while throwing you into one orgasm after another. Once he’s satisfied that you’re feeling dizzy and gooey enough, he finally pulls down his sweats and lets his long cock spring free.

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who pulls you to sit in his now naked lap and shushes into your hair when you whine. He has you lined up against his cock and almost cries out himself when your little pussy finally sits on his aching tip. He’s been opening you up for hours, so he feels justified in being just a little mean and making you take his entire shaft in one go.

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who doesn’t care to keep you quiet when you start going up and down against him. His apartment is plenty big, but he wouldn’t care even if he had neighbors that could hear him. He is so sickly enamored with how you scream for your brother’s cock, how tears pill down your cheeks but you keep moving against him with everything you’ve got.

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who cums inside you only after he’s felt your muscles squeeze in pleasure a few times. You’ve cum more times than you imagined possible, more times than anyone else could ever give you. And that’s the point, isn’t it?

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who holds you down by your hips and makes you warm his cock. Whispering sweet encouragement about how well his little sister did. How other guys aren’t nearly as big as him and how you took him so well. How you’re ruined for anyone else so you might as well say you’ll be his little housewife. ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

❥ ᴄʜɪᴡʜᴏʀᴇɪ.2024©️ ᴀʟʟ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢs ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ. Dᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ.

[agatedragongames]

Pathfinder Performance Test

Testing the performance of four different pathfinding algorithms. To find out which one is the fastest, which one generates the best path and which one explores the least nodes.

[amongemeraldclouds]

dark desires

Theodore Nott had been the perfect boyfriend, yet there’s a darkness within him that you longed to unravel, to explore. So this Halloween, you came up with a proposal: a spooky mask, a haunted house, and a night for dark desires. Be careful what you wish for.

dark!Theodore Nott x f!Reader

Warnings: 18+ mdni, characters are aged up, dom!Theo, consensual non-consent (cnc), roleplay, knife kink, mask kink, oral (m! and f!receiving), degradation, praise kink, daddy kink, fingering, mirror sex, piv, creampie

a/n: posting my first ever kinktober fic! thanks to my wifeyy @pizzaapeteer for proofreading, you're the best ♡

✿ Masterlist | ✿ Theodore Nott Masterlist | 4.4k words

Prologue

Theodore Nott is the ideal boyfriend. He celebrated your wins with you and encouraged you when you faced challenges. You received thoughtful gifts from him and your conversations always led you to new discoveries about the world. Being with him was an adventure just as much as it was home.

Yet the more you got to know him, the deeper your curiosity grew. Theo is a complicated person and it was clear there’s always more to him beneath his wild hair and ocean eyes. There was especially a darkness in him that drew you in. A shadow he hid from the world and you wanted to be that one person he could share it with. The one he confided in, explored it with. After all, it was the same darkness you saw in yourself. And so, you came up with a proposal.

One night of unrestrained exploration, a safe place for your dark desires.

“I want to know all of you. I’m not afraid of your dark,” you said, ending your proposal.

Theo hesitated, “you should be afraid.” Yet there was an unmistakable glint in his eye, a wilderness that rattled against the cage of his stoic restraint. Desperate and ready to be let out.

“That’s for me to decide,” you argued, searching his eyes. Asking him to trust you. “I want to know who you are when no one's watching. I want you to show me all the sinful acts you'd do to me knowing I'd take it all and enjoy every last touch,” you elaborated, sliding a finger down his chest.

Theo closed his eyes and sighed, his composure waning at your words. “Fuck, how did I get so lucky?” Seeming to gather himself, he hesitated. “But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It's okay, I promise. I want to free us from the restraints of polite society. Just you and me, Theo, let’s carve our own world together.”

His eyes softened, you were already his entire world. “Do you trust me?” he asked, gently caressing your hair as you laid in the crook between his shoulders and neck. 

“Always.”

“That’s my girl,” Theo leaned in to plant a kiss on your forehead, sending tingles down your spine.

You basked in his praise and continued, “how would you feel about roleplaying a stranger in a mask? I promise we’ll discuss the details, set rules, and establish a safe word.”

He smirked, “I think we’re going to have so much fun.”

A faint glow led you deeper into the hallway. Around you, cobwebs were strewn across cracked tombstones, the names far too smeared to read. Your heart slammed against your ribcage as your hands shook. Another scream pierced the air from a distance. Your only companion was the weight that settled in your stomach the second you stepped into the haunted house.

Fog hissed in the corners. Wisps of smoke snaked from the ends of the room, creeping towards the centre. The cool air snatched your legs like the greedy outstretched arms of a zombie. A coffin laid in the corner with its lid missing, its sinister insides inviting you to settle in and rest your weary bones. You shook the thought away and walked as fast as you could, reminding yourself to breathe.

You were so close to the next room. So close to the end of all this horror.

And then you screamed. A figure growled beside you, where had he even come from? A mummy reached out, its skull tainted bronze with time. You ran through the rest of the hallway, laughing in relief when you reached an empty corner. A break from all the chaos. The next room was serial killer themed, adorned with blood-soaked bodies hanging limply from the ceiling. You took another moment to catch your breath and let another group of visitors pass you.

Closing your fist, you steeled yourself. Just as you lifted your leg to walk, a strong arm grabbed your waist and pulled you into the shadows. Your arms were pinned down your sides, trapped. The breath rushed from your lungs as you collided with a muscular body, your back pressed to him. His free hand tugged at your hair so that you were looking up at him. All you saw was hollowed out eyes and a gaping mouth. He was wearing a mask.

“Well well, who do we have here?” he said in a low tone, his gravelly voice followed by a malicious chuckle. 

Your chest heaved as you tried to take lungfuls of breaths only to come up empty. Panic swam through your mind, thoughts plunging deep into the ocean of your subconscious. Out of reach.

“Want to play with me, amore?” He continued, releasing your hair so he could caress the side of your face. A gesture far too intimate for a stranger to make. His other hand kept your hips firmly in place. You tried to squirm, to move out of his grasp, but he was much stronger than you were.

His words sent a chill down your spine. Something was wrong. Were scare actors allowed to grab you? You could have sworn you signed a waiver that mentioned it was prohibited.

“L-let me go,” you squeaked, trying to find your voice.

“Play with me and then I’ll let you go,” he said, dragging out the words slowly, “I promise we’ll have so much fun.”

You tried harder to escape, arms and hips thrashing against his solid grasp. You screamed for help, certain someone would come rushing. The masked man simply laughed, unfazed by your efforts.

“I do like it when my prey struggle. Scream all you want, no one’s coming for you. It all just blends in with the others,” he said arrogantly as he tightened his hold on you to cease your movements. You froze when you felt his erection against you. Heat bloomed in the pit of your stomach and you tried to tamp it down. He was big and you wondered just how well he would fit inside you. “Careful now cara,” he teased, “or you’ll have to take responsibility for your actions.”

You shook your head to say no, to shake off the twisted desires that had taken you captive. In a last ditch effort, you stomped your foot down his shoe. He hissed in pain, cursing in a language you didn’t understand. His hold on you momentarily waned but not long enough for you to break free, just long enough for him to get angry.

“You want to play hard to get?” he said, his voice growing cold. “Fine, I’ll be the bad guy,” he said as he pressed something cold and metallic on your neck. You instinctively moved your head away. Wrong move. It gave him more access to your throat. 

“You wouldn’t want to find out just how sharp this is now don’t you?” he asked, the playful tone back in his voice. He had you right where he wanted you. In the haze of adrenaline and terror, an ache grew in between your legs and you squeezed them together, trying to find relief. “I’ll be good,” you said, fear and lust rushing through your veins. 

“Show me,” he replied, commanding you as he kept his knife steady against your throat while his other hand released your waist. He wasted no time feeling you up under your dress, his hand caressing your soft thighs. Your knees felt weak from his touch, but you reminded yourself to stay still so your throat stays unharmed.

As he moved his fingers to your inner thigh, you moved your legs apart for him. You tried to convince yourself it was only to keep you safe. You definitely were not thinking about how good his fingers would feel on your soaking cunt. You took in a sharp inhale when you felt him tease you through your underwear. 

You couldn’t help the way your hips bucked, wanting to feel more pressure from his fingers. He chuckled and shame mingled with the heat of your desire. “I knew you wanted it,” he said with a smile in his voice. You kept quiet because there was no denying it now.

Encouraged by your eagerness, he ripped down your underwear, exposing your dripping wet cunt. He slid his fingers across your folds, covering them in your slick. He spread it out to feel every inch of your aching core. It may have been cold in the haunted house from his blade to all the fog and fear, but right now, your entire body was on fire. “Fuck, you’re so drenched for me, amore. I bet I could easily stick two fingers inside you.”

You whimpered at his words, stunned that someone could be so bold and direct. You were not sure you could leave now, even if you tried. You needed to know how his fingers felt. He didn’t leave you wondering for long. 

You found yourself moaning when your pussy suddenly felt full, his fingers working their way in. He curled his fingers, hitting your g spot. For the first time that evening, you screamed in pleasure. Your voice blended together with the other screams. Your knees gave out and you laid your head back on his shoulder, away from the knife. His body kept you upright as he continued curling his fingers then sliding them in and out, until he found a steady rhythm.

Sloppy, squelching sounds filled the air and it took you a moment to realize it was you. Satisfied you would stay and play with him, Theo lowered his knife so he could focus on your needy cunt.

You suddenly felt empty when you realized he moved his fingers towards your face. You opened your lips instinctively as he shoved his fingers into your mouth, your tongue lapping up your juices. He slid them in and out just as he had with your cunt, then shoved it down your throat, choking you in the process.

While you sucked on his fingers, you felt something hard rub against your clit and your eyes widened. It was the knife handle. “Be a good girl and take this for me,” he said as he moved it across your wet folds, gathering up your slick. “Grind against it, show me what you’ll do to my cock,” you closed your eyes while sucking his fingers and let your lust takeover. 

It felt new and exciting to have the knife handle against you. It didn’t take you long to find the exact spots that shot euphoria through your veins and you rubbed yourself against it again and again. Pleasure built up in the base of your stomach. “I’m going to plunge the handle into you now,” he warned, “move carefully, wouldn’t want to see your pretty legs cut up now, don’t you?”

You shook your head to say no, too lost in the ecstasy to find your words. Your walls clutched the knife as it entered you effortlessly, you were already so stimulated, you could almost taste your sweet release. “Look at you, dripping all over this knife. You're a slut aren't you?” You moaned your agreement around his fingers.

Your senses were heightened as you concentrated on keeping your legs steady. He moved the knife back out only to enter the handle back inside you as he once again found a steady rhythm. You shifted forward, bracing yourself for your release. Theo noticed the sudden shift and he removed the knife, exchanging it once again with his fingers. He moved faster this time, chasing your release.

“You're gonna come all over my fingers and thank me, understood?” He said and all you could do was nod. “Show me just how much of a slut you are. Look at you, getting yourself taken by a stranger in a haunted house and fucked with a knife. What a perfect cockwhore.”

His words unraveled you and you surrendered to the pleasure. Ecstasy erupted through you in waves. Your walls fluttered against his fingers as he coaxed your release, curling his fingers to prolong the climax.

You panted against him as you felt your juices drip down your legs. “What do good girls say?” He asked and he slipped out his hand. 

“T-thank you,” you managed, your voice hoarse from where he fucked your throat earlier. 

“Thank you what?” he asked, slapping your cunt. You shivered against his touch, unintentionally grinding on his boner. It earned you a grunt, sending a jolt through your body, a new shade of desire illuminated within you. You enjoyed how he responded to you. 

“Thank you daddy,” you replied, more steady this time.

“Good girl,” he said, praising you as he took a hold of your hand and pressed the knife into your back. Fear shot through you and you held your breath. “Step out of your underwear, bend over and pick it up like a good obedient slut.” You bent forward and followed his instructions, legs weak from your orgasm. “Put it in my pocket,” he commanded, “that’s it. This is mine now, a souvenir from an eager slut.”

“Come with me now, we’re just getting started,” he led you deeper into the darkness until a blinding light assaulted your eyes.

He had opened a secret backdoor. No doubt for scare actors to go around without being noticed, this was why they seemed to appear from nowhere. As your eyes adjusted, you got your first look at him. Not that there was much to see with his mask still on. All you noticed was the veins running through his muscled arm, black ink forming a pattern that disappeared up his shirt sleeve, but it was enough to stir your sinful thoughts.

“Don’t even think about screaming for help or running away,” he threatened as you moved side by side. Not that you were planning to anyway. To any onlooker, you just seemed like any other couple taking a stroll. The cool air brushed your sensitive bare cunt as you walked, sending gooseflesh rippiling through your skin.

“Where are you taking me?” 

“You’ll find out soon enough,” was all he said as he opened the door and you exited the haunted house. Of course, you should have known. There was a hotel just right across and it seemed he already had a room booked as he led you straight to the elevator. He blended right in with his mask, as others passed by dressed as fairies, pirates and other assortments of costumes. Ready to party the night away.

Theo had another party in mind. Your mind raced as elevator buttons lit up, taking you closer and closer to the last place you needed to be. But you wanted it. You remembered how big he was, the way he reacted to you, how good it felt when he called you a good girl. He also called you a slut and for him, you would be one. You were dizzy with delight. Besides, what other choice did you have? You thought about the sharpness of his blade and felt yourself clench. It shouldn’t have been exciting, oh but it was.

You stepped out the elevator and once again, a weight settled in the pit of your stomach in anticipation of all the things he would do to you. He still held your arm while he led you to the room, his grip gentler now that he knew you would stay. It was almost romantic.

He swiped the hotel card and gestured for you to enter. As you moved past him, all you could focus on was the king sized bed in the centre of the room. The sheets pure and pristine reflected the soft glow of the light, a blank slate for you to paint all your sins on. Behind you, the lock clicked into place and Theo secured the double lock. The sound was impossibly soft and innocent for something that reverberated deep in your bones. There was no turning back now.

“On your knees,” he commanded. Your breath shuddered and you hesitated. “I said,” Theo repeated impatiently, “on your knees” he gripped your hair for emphasis. The sudden force knocked you out of balance and before you knew it, soft carpet kissed your knees as you fell with a thud. He started unbuckling his jeans, an unmistakable bulge carved right in front of you.

Your mouth salivated as he freed himself. “Look at me,” he said, shifting your attention back to his face. “Open your mouth wide and put your tongue out. Good girl.” He spat in your mouth and used his thumb to spread it around your tongue.

“You’re going to take me real good,” he said as he guided his hungry cock into your mouth. Liquid heat pooled in your core again because he tasted good. His eyes fluttered shut when he felt just how warm and wet you were. You moved your tongue around him while he thrust himself into you.

“That's it. Look at me while I fuck your pretty mouth,” he encouraged you, pressing himself deeper until you felt him down your throat. He continued pistoning his hips, movements growing rougher by the second. Your eyes watered with the effort as you continued to suck and swallow. He swiped your tears away with his thumb and got impossibly harder. He liked watching you cry for him. Around you, obscene sloppy sounds filled the room.

“You're taking me so well.” Theo complimented in between grunts, his other hand still gripping your hair to keep you in place. “So perfect for me,” he praised you, words punctuated with his frantic thrusts. “You look so beautiful with my cock shoved down your throat. Just like that.”

You hummed in delight, eager to please him. Your tears and his thumb had long smeared your makeup yet he still called you beautiful. “Be a good girl and swallow daddy’s cum,” he said, signaling his near release. You braced yourself until you felt his warm salty taste in your mouth.

“That's right, principessa, you better not spill. Take it all, right down your throat.” You complied, enjoying the way he thrust slowly as if scooping the rest of his cum from your mouth down your throat.

Satisfied, he removed himself, “breathe amore, you did so well for me. Get up now it's time to give you a reward, you've earned it.” You stood on shaky legs, your knees blushing red from the carpet. Theo held you up and led you towards the bed.

“Just lie there, let me taste your eager cunt,” he said, lifting your dress up and over your head. Your thighs glistened from your arousal and Theo chuckled. “Fuck, only a slut gets wet from sucking cock. What a pretty little cockwhore for daddy.” You whimpered at his words and felt yourself clench in response. The mattress felt soft and supportive beneath your tense body, ready to cradle your fall.

“Tell me you want my tongue all over your pretty pussy,” Theo commanded.

“I-” you looked away, suddenly shy until he reached forward to grab your chin, making you face him. You looked at the black and white mask and bit your bottom lip. One final resistance before giving voice to your desire. “I want to feel you eat me, daddy.”

“Now, see how easy that was.” He released your chin as he moved back to position himself between your legs. He moved the mask up just enough to use his mouth before snaking his arm around your legs, keeping them spread out for him.

You sucked in a breath the second you felt his tongue on your aching cunt. He was so eager, lapping up your juices and kissing your clit all the way down to your folds. The way his tongue moved spelled pure need as he tensed it enough to penetrate you. A blinding haze swept through you, your core still sensitive from the echoes of your earlier orgasm.

Sinful moans escaped your mouth, joining the chorus of Theo’s kisses on your slippery cunt. Sheets gripped between your fingers, lust took over your body and you found yourself grinding against him and his mask, enjoying the delicious friction.

“That’s right, show me how much of a slut you are,” Theo encouraged, swirling his tongue around your clit. It didn’t take long until your stomach clenched again, you could almost taste your next release. Your breaths grew shorter and you could see the stars–

“On no, not yet, amore,” Theo chuckled, releasing you and sliding his mask back on. “Fuck, my mask smells like your cunt. I get to bring another souvenir with me,” he groaned in appreciation. “The next time you cum will be around my cock.”

You closed your legs, trying to find pressure to ease the need growing hot and desperate. “Please,” you whispered, begging for more.

“What’s that?”

“P-please,” you said, louder this time. “Let me cum on your cock, daddy.”

“Good girl, you’re a quick learner aren’t you? Come here,” he said, guiding you up. “Get on all fours and crawl to me,” he teased and he moved towards the edge of the bed. You followed him, lost in his spell. Your eyes widened when you spotted a floor to ceiling mirror in the corner where he stood. You had been too wrapped up in watching him to notice it earlier.

“Look at yourself, that pretty face and that perfect body,” he groaned. “Everything about you so fuckable.” You watched yourself in the mirror and noticed your smeared mascara, your hair crumpled right where he took you earlier, eyes and lips puffy from where he fucked your mouth. You were nothing like the prim and proper girl you often were and it felt liberating to not have to be perfect. Instead, you were on all fours, ready to be used like a whore by the man in the mask.

You felt him press himself against you in bed. When did he get there? You admired his naked body in the mirror, sweat glistening while they dripped down and traced his muscled figure. But his mask, only the mask, stayed on. The one he said smelled just like your cunt.

“Now you’re going to show me just how much you want to cum,” he said, positioning himself near your entrance. “I’m going to fill you up real good, but you’ll have to move yourself back. Fuck yourself on my cock, amore.” You clenched around him, rewarding his efforts with a pornographic moan.

Your soaked cunt welcomed him effortlessly and soon you slid yourself back just as he commanded, moving until his cock kissed your cervix. The slapping motion of skin on skin filled the air with lewd noises along with the smell of sex. Theo joined in with his grunts as he grabbed onto your hips, encouraging you to keep going.

You gripped the sheets, trying to find purchase. Pleasure swelled within you again from the way your nipples rubbed against the bedsheets, creating a delicious friction, to the heat that reignited deep in your core. Your entire body was on fire.

“That’s it, need to feel you cum on my cock,” Theo encouraged, reaching down to grab your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers. It was enough to send you over the edge, seeing stars again as your walls fluttered around his hard length. Theo took over, rutting his hips into you to prolong your orgasm until you returned to him.

“Thank you daddy,” you rasped when you finally found your voice in between your labored breaths. “It’s my pleasure, principessa, but I’m not yet done with you,” he said darkly, continuing his pace. “Look at yourself in the mirror,” he said, grabbing your hair once again to guide your head.

“Look at that cockwhore getting fucked. Watch your tits sway like the filthy slut that you are,” you moaned at his words, heat building deep inside you again. It was overstimulating, the way his balls tapped into you as he rocked his full length inside you. Watching yourself get used and seeing the wild look in your eyes, a mix of delight and desperation.

His deep, guttural voice echoed through you, pulling at your strings. Your arms gave out, weighed down by the intensity of it all, and before you could move, Theo took this opportunity to pin you down, his toned body covering yours.

You felt helpless and succumbed to him, no longer bound by fear. His mask hovered near your face as he continued his relentless pace inside you. “You like being used, huh?” He asked, looking at your connected figures in the mirror. “Yes,” you cried out, “I need to feel your cum inside me, daddy.”

“Fuck, that’s a good slut, you’re taking me so well” he grunted, slapping your ass just before he increased his pace. It was brutal and you were screaming again, drunk from the cocktail of pain and pleasure. Italian expletives rained from his lips as he chased his high. You watched the way his muscles flexed from the effort.

The familiar heat raged within you, walls tightening around Theo’s hard cock. Echoes of your bliss reached a crescendo and you found yourself spasming against him again. “Take it all, amore,” Theo’s filthy moans joined yours as your release triggered his, you felt his liquid heat coating your insides as he rode you through your orgasm.   

He collapsed into you, bringing you to his arms. “That’s my girl,” he praised, “I’m so proud of you. You did so well.” You smiled and leaned into him, removing his mask to see him smiling back at you. He pressed a gentle kiss on your lips as if he hasn’t just fucked you raw. You laughed at the whiplash.

Your laughter washed over him, it really had been okay for him to unapologetically tap into his darkness in a way that feels euphoric and safe. It was liberating. His thumb traced your jaw, eyes searching yours. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head, “nothing I couldn’t handle. I promise.”

“You’ll tell me if I hurt you, right?” he pressed.

Your eyes softened at his concern. “Yes, you made me feel good, Theo. You exceeded all my expectations. I love getting to know this side of you.”

You were already the best part of him, the sun that held all the light in Theo’s universe. He had no idea until tonight that his darkness could find a home in you too. It's the kind of dark that made the stars shine brighter. How had he gotten so lucky with you?

He planted a kiss on your forehead, bringing you closer to him. “I love sharing this with you. Now let me draw a bath and call room service for dinner. I’ll take good care of you, principessa.”

You called out to him as you watched him get up, “hey, Theo?”

“Yeah?” He turned back.

“Happy Halloween,” you said, grinning.

“Happy Halloween, amore.”

✿ Masterlist | ✿ Theodore Nott Masterlist

a/n: I very rarely write smut, but when I do, the next one always seems darker than the previous one. Happy kinktober!

[suguru-getos]

࿐ husband neuvillette nsfw hcs (f!reader) ࿐

you didn’t know when you got married to the chief justice that he was that good in bed. like? how? where do you get the time? :// honestly — it’s insane. the way he knows your sweet spot as if it’s what he’s been searching for all this time. when the first time you two did it, it got you dizzy and you cried at the overwhelming love & affection he showered you with.

peppering sweet kisses everywhere, your forehead, your cheek, your chin, right below your ears until he reaches your collarbone !! neuvillette loves to nibble onto your supple skin. gently suckling at the sweet spot on your neck until you get used to it, then switching to a harsher suckle, maybe a little teeth. it’s the territorial instinct inside him which gets him hard and turned on the moment he sees you all vulnerable and marked up.

he loves toying with your titties, he’d literally spend a lot of time on them. massaging them, kneading them with his large, powerful hands and marking them his. the way his tongue twirls into your aching bud and makes you gasp for more. yes, he has made you cum with just your titties alone. you didn’t know it was possible until neuvillette decided it is.

neuvillette is a dom inside out. a pleasure dom who gets off to seeing you writhe under him. you’d always be told to moan out. “come now darling, don’t try to hide your moans. i want to know how it makes you feel.” he’d slowly yank your palm off your mouth. “sing for me.” he cooes as he thrusts inside you, watching your eyes roll back in sheer pleasure.

breeding kink 101. i think he uses a lot of words and phrases like, “going to look so cute with your belly carrying our child”, “going to breed my little angel full of me, she can take it right? of course she can. tell me — tell me you want to be bred full of my seed.”

size kink -> it’s always hard for you to fit him inside, he’s especially huge and girthy, veins decorating his thick cock while he lubes your cunt with his pre. he loves when you get a little intimidated by his size until he has to assure you that he’d always take care of you & never hurt you.

despite him not being too harsh most of the time, he still insists on there being safewords. “don’t want this possibility to ever come true, but still, no harm in being prepared darling.” he’s fine if you make up your own safe word or he is happy to follow the traffic light system for ya.

sometimes though? you want him to snap. best method is to make your territorial dragon jealous. there are often events like banquets held in fontaine & as the chief justice; he mostly attends those. it’s more than easy for you to rile him up by being a tad too nice with others 🤷🏻‍♀️ he’d pin you against the wall, the same stern glare that he carries in court now attacking you. “seems like you’re purposely getting on my nerves darling.” he hums, leaning in and inhaling your scent. “going to make sure to take proper measures so this isn’t repeated. you’re going to like that too much won’t you?” oh yes you will —

he doesn’t do punishments, just funishments. you’d have to ask him to partake in those because let’s be real, you can’t possibly expect the man who’s simping for you so hard to think of the possibility of hurting you. you’d have to tell him you like the pain. 😏 impact play, edging, he’d be partaking in all those for his little darling.

he likes to particularly cockwarm you though. it’s the whole power play high of it and the desperation in your eyes which makes it exhilarating for him. “stay still for me yes? i don’t want you to not cum now. just because you’re greedy.” oh you love it when he gets all in control like that.

whenever he decides to spank you, it’s always going to be over the knee. he wants to feel you close, it comforts both you & him. the impact precise and calculated, watching the color of your ass change with a soft smirk. “you love this too much don’t you? ah~ i can see it.” fingers languidly touching your needy, wet pussy as the spanks push you over the edge.

aftercare king and he’s almost apologetic after every harsh scene. “you okay? sure? i want you to know i love you & you did so well for me. i’m so proud of my wife.” words of affirmation king 👑 along with a clingy cuddle bug. 🤭

[imaginestuffs]

Try Again- John Walker x FReader

Word count:7,995

Warnings: slight angst, fluff, possible OOC John.

(y/f/m)= your favorite movie

(y/f/d)= your favorite drink

Summary: Reader realizes she is in love with John after an almost kiss. But will John be able to accept the fact that he is in love with her too? Will she help him overcome his fear of starting over?

There was something strange going on between you and John. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint if it was good or bad, but it was something. 

When you first met him, he was the bane of your existence. Now, whenever you saw him, your heart seemed to stutter. Your face got warm, and your stomach filled with butterflies. 

It was 8:30 in the morning, and you had just shuffled into the kitchen to get yourself a much-needed cup of coffee. As soon as you rounded the corner, there he stood, ready for the day. His hair was still a bit damp and unruly, and you had the urge to reach up and run your hands through it. As you stared at him, you began to realize you wanted to do much more than run your hands through his hair. You wanted to wrap your arms around his waist and nuzzle your face against his chest. You wanted him to kiss your forehead and say good morning with that voice of his. That low voice that still held the thickness of sleep. 

A small smile quirked at your lips at the thought. Coming out of your thoughts, you noticed him staring right back at you in confusion. A warmth spread across your face, and you quickly looked away from him. 

“Are you ok (y/n)?” his voice held slight concern. He placed his coffee cup on the counter and fully turned towards you. 

“Yeah, uh, I’m f-fine. Just a bit spacey today. Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.” You got your words out as fast as possible.

The look on his face told you he didn’t believe you. You could tell he wanted to push, but decided against it. 

“Well, if you, uh, if you ever want to talk, I’m here.” It almost sounded like he was nervous about it. 

You gave him a soft grin and nodded. 

“Thanks, I’m here too. You always seem to know where to find me, so you know where I’ll be.” You teased him a bit, and he looked to the floor with a grin. 

“I just know you better than you think. It’s easy to figure you out.” He remarked, and you chuckled.

“Oh really? Then tell me what’s on my mind.” Your brow raised challengingly.

He shook his head and smiled before looking at you. His eyes seemed to search you, and you felt your heart speed up at the thought of him looking at you the way he did. You did your best to keep your guard up and make your expression as normal as possible. And by normal you mean neutral, not cold, but not too cocky. You kept your small smile and open demeanor. 

As John looked at you, his mind seemed to wander. Your sleepy eyes and wrinkled pajamas. The fuzzy socks on your feet are patterned with different dogs. The way your hands cradled the coffee cup in your hands. He couldn’t help but imagine your soft but greedy hands pulling him closer. Your cherry chapstick lingering on his lips for hours. Sweet sounds you'd make when he'd touch you.

John’s stomach flipped as he thought of all the things he unyieldingly longed to do. 

Realizing how long he had been ‘reading’ you, he snapped out of it. You smirked as he shook his head. 

“Figure me out yet?” Your voice carried a joking lilt. 

He stood in front of you now with a glimmer of something in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite understand. You could feel his warmth, he was that close to you. Your smirk faltered slightly at his proximity. The tension between you was nothing you had ever experienced before. It was unexpectedly charged. His hand gripped the counter behind you, and he seemed to lean in close. So close that your noses could brush. Your breath was stolen by the way he looked at you.

He looked at you like he wanted you, like you were the only thing in this world he wanted to call his. 

Your eyes softened as you looked into his. A few minutes ago, you never believed that you would be so close to him that you could see the color of his eyes change hues of blue in the light. 

John’s eyes flickered from yours to your lips. The lips he thought of kissing only moments ago.

His nose now softly nudged yours, your (e/c) eyes fluttered shut, and you could feel his breath fan across your lips. 

“John!” Ava called from around the corner. Your eyes flew open at her voice, he sighed as he stepped away from you.

“What?” he asked as the woman rounded the corner with an annoyed look on her face. 

Before she could speak, she noticed the tension in the room and glanced between the two of you. She saw the flustered look you tried to mask, and the way John seemed to breathe a bit harder. The look on Ava’s face was one of suspicion. You gave her a pleading look as if asking her not to mention it. She could see the look of anxiety in your eyes, and kept her mouth shut on the subject.

Ava turned to face John, “We’re assigned to a mission in Lima, we leave in 2 hours. Get ready and I’ll meet you by the landing pad,” she informed him. He nodded his head and strode out of the room as fast as he could. 

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Ava looked at you in concern. 

“Is everything ok?” she asked, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. You flashed her a small smile and nodded. She looked at you with uncertainty. “You would tell me if something happened?” she asked.

“Of course, Ava, thanks for checking in, but I’m fine,” you told her with as much of a steady voice as you could muster.

“Good. We’ll be back soon. I’ll bring him back in one piece, alright,” she reassured you.

Your eyes widened; you should’ve realized that she could see right through you, she always could. Closing your eyes, you let out a sigh. 

“Just be careful,” you said before pulling her into a hug. She hugged you back just as tightly.

As Ava left the kitchen, your head fell into your hands. You could barely comprehend what almost happened. Not letting yourself believe that what you felt from him could be true. Tricking yourself into thinking what you saw in his eyes wasn’t real.

Maybe half an hour had passed before you got ready for the day. Walking out of your room, you see John going down the hallway to meet Ava. 

You decide to take a chance to talk to him before he leaves, even if it’s only to say goodbye and be careful.

“John,” you tried to get his attention as he was walking away. His footsteps stopped, and he let you catch up with him. He kept his eyes on the ground as you walked beside him. 

“I um, I just wanted to say goodbye,” you said and glanced at him, seeing if he would spare a look. He didn’t look at you, so you tried one more time.

“John,” you said, trying to get his attention. But again, there was no answer.

You gently grabbed his arm, and he reluctantly looked at you. “What is it?” he sighed out.

“I just wanted to tell you to come back safe,” you said and smiled softly despite feeling a bit hurt. 

“We will,” he told you and walked away.

Standing there in the hall, you could feel your heart constrict; it was as if he didn’t care. It was like what had happened wasn’t real. Confusion clouded your mind, you didn’t understand what you had done. 

Bucky had found you sitting on the couch, doing your best to read the book you were trying to finish. Nothing was helping, and you were just rereading the same sentence over and over again.

The couch dipped as someone sat next to you. You didn’t have to see their face to know it was Bucky. Your shoulders slouched, and you let out a sigh, finally letting yourself relax. Feeling safe enough to show how tired you really were. 

“You ok, kid?” his voice was a low, comforting rumble. 

Chuckling, you looked over at him. 

“That’s the third time someone has asked me that today. And I guess my answer is no,” The look in your eyes was one he’d never seen before. Uncertainty. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he raised his hand to run through your hair. 

You could feel some stress leaving you. As you always did when he was around. 

You screwed your eyes shut and tried to hold everything back. You didn’t understand why you wanted to cry. Nothing had really happened between you and John, but it felt like something was there. Something that you couldn’t shake, something that made your heart too full.

You could feel the tears begin to drip down your cheeks. Opening your eyes, Bucky's gaze was soft and understanding. The book fell from your hand as you let yourself lean into your friend. 

He was more than a friend, he was family. Someone you trusted fully, and whom you could never seem to lie to. 

“I’m so confused.” Your voice strained as tears of frustration continued to fall. 

“What’s got you so confused, Sweetheart?” he let you curl into his side as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. 

“Walker,” your voice was muffled by his shirt. You buried your head further against his chest as your cheeks heated up.

Bucky leaned down and placed his head on yours.

“What was that?” he asked.

You shifted so you could look up at him. “John,” you sighed.

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Well, I don’t think you’re the first to be confused by him,” he told you jokingly. 

He got a small smile out of you, and you shook your head. 

“I’m- I’m just so frustrated. I can’t tell how he feels about me. I thought I knew for a moment, and then he wouldn’t give me anything. He barely even looked at me after I said goodbye today.” You confessed to Bucky. 

“You know I don’t like him, but I think it’s safe to say he’s not great at dealing with feelings like that.” He once again began to run his fingers through your hair. 

He saw the look on your face, a look of fear that you’d done something wrong. “Did something happen today (y/n)?” Bucky asked carefully, not wanting to hit a nerve or make you uncomfortable.

Taking a deep breath, you looked at him, desperation shone in your eyes. 

“He almost kissed me today. Only two hours before I told him goodbye, he leaned in to kiss me, and then he acted like he didn’t care. Like it never even happened. It was like I was a stranger.” Your voice was soft, unsure.

Bucky just listened as you spoke, doing his best to be a comfort. He looked at you with sympathy in his eyes. He hated seeing you like this; he hated knowing that you felt that way. That Walker made you feel that way. 

Tears began to gloss over your eyes once more as you sighed. You didn’t know you felt so deeply for him. Never realized that he meant so much to you, but he did, and now you can’t stop caring.

A cool hand touched your cheek, leaning into it, you sighed. 

“Sweetheart, I don’t think you’ve done anything wrong…” He paused, thinking of what to say next. “I think he’s scared after everything that happened with Olivia. I think he’s scared to start over.” He did his best to explain the possibility of why he suddenly acted so cold.

Your heart sank at the thought of him feeling that way. You never thought about it like that, you didn’t think of him. How scared he must be to open up again, to fully trust someone and have them trust him. How scared he must be to fall in love again. 

Your shoulders dropped, a

nd you once again let yourself rest against Bucky’s chest. Bucky could tell what was going on in your mind. He let his head rest on yours and rubbed your arm. 

“It’ll be ok. He’ll be ok,” Bucky kissed your head, and just let you hold him for as long as you needed to. 

It had been four days since John and Ava had gone on their mission. Everyone noticed that you had become quiet. The only one who truly knew why was Bucky, and he wasn’t willing to share your reasoning with anyone. 

In your mind, you had decided the best idea was to give him space, to let him come to you if and when he was ready. The only thing that hurt you was that you didn’t know if he wanted what you did. John may never be ready, and if that were the case, you’d just have to understand that.

Your heart didn’t want to let go, but if it came down to it, then you’d have to. It was a feeling you had never experienced. Something you didn’t know how to handle well. You weren’t good at letting go, it had always been an issue for you. When you were young, your family moved from Oregon to New York. Leaving the first home you’d ever known, leaving the very first friends you’d ever made, was like ripping a piece of your soul away. 

When your childhood dog passed away, you kept their favorite toy, and you still have it now. The day your grandma passed away, your heart shattered. Refusing to believe she was gone, you still spoke to her years later. Even now, when you’re lost or alone, you’ll close your eyes and talk to her as if she’s right next to you. 

After your worst heartbreak, you didn’t think you'd find love again. Until you met John. 

Now you may have to let go before you get to hold him. 

There you sat next to Bob by the window where he always sits while reading. He saw the look on your face and asked you to sit with him, and so you did. You let yourself settle next to your friend in a comfortable silence. The only thing that could be heard was the rain outside and him mumbling the words he was reading under his breath. It was comforting to just sit with someone, not having to speak to understand that each of you just wants company.

After a while, you felt someone shaking your shoulder. A sleepy groan escaped you as you rubbed your eyes. You hadn’t realized you had fallen asleep. 

“(y/n),” your name was spoken so softly you almost didn’t hear it. Slowly, you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of Bob smiling at you softly. “I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, so I took you to your room. I hope you don’t mind.” His voice was so sweet, and you smiled back sleepily. 

“Thanks, Bobby,” you mumbled and leaned up to kiss his cheek. His cheeks went pink as he nodded. 

“Of course. I, um, I’ll leave so you can rest,” he spoke softly before squeezing your shoulder and making his exit. 

What you didn’t realize was that Ava and John had returned as he was taking you to your room. 

Bob passed by John as he carried you fast asleep in his arms.

Bob gave John a smile and a soft welcome back as he walked by him. John nodded back, but felt his heart pang at the sight.

Why was Bob holding you as you slept? Why was he taking you back to your room?

John was so confused. He could see how content you were; he saw the way your face was pressed against his chest as you slept.  

It’s only been four days, and Bob has moved in on you. John thought Bob liked Yelena, not you. Did you like Bob?

John walked down the hall to his room. As he did, he passed by your room, and the door was open just enough to see you kiss Bob on the cheek. His heart seemed to stop for a second at the sight. He didn’t understand.

He swore that there was something he had with you. Something that he didn’t know how to describe. Maybe something he was too scared to accept.

He didn’t want to accept the fact that he may be in love with you. 

But unbeknownst to him, you had accepted that same thing. You accepted the fact that you were in love with John.

 Waking up the next morning, you made your way into the kitchen for a cup of coffee when you were greeted with the same sight as four days before. John stood with messy morning hair and a bruise on his cheek. Concern filled your eyes as you took a step closer to him. 

“John,” your voice was soft as you got his attention. 

He looked up from his coffee to glance at you. He hummed in acknowledgment and took another sip. Something in your heart tugged, and you swore you felt a twinge of pain in your chest. Again, he paid you no mind.

“Are you ok? I’m glad you’re home,” you said, and moved to the cupboard to grab a mug. 

“If you’re asking about the bruise, it doesn’t hurt, just looks bad,” he said. 

The way he spoke gave you the hint that he didn’t want to talk. So you left the conversation there. As you looked for your favorite mug, you noticed it was on the top shelf and sighed. 

Reaching for it, you huffed in frustration, but before you were able to climb on the counter, someone reached from behind you to grab it for you.

You hoped with everything in you that when you turned around, it would be John, but when you did, John was still leaning on the island. A warm hand was placed on the small of your back, and you knew from how gentle the touch was that it could only be Bob. 

Once again, your heart tugged, and your eyes flashed with disappointment. Bob placed the mug beside you, and you smiled at him as he reached for his own mug. 

“Thanks, Bob,” you grinned softly at him. 

“No problem. Just didn’t want you to get hurt.” his voice was sweet, genuine. 

You squeeze his hand before pouring yourself a coffee. 

“John! You’re finally back!” Alexei exclaimed as he made his usual boisterous entrance. 

Everyone in the room winced at his volume. 

“How was mission, huh?!” his voice somehow louder than before.

“Just like any other one,” John answered plainly, and rubbed a hand down his face. As you glanced at him again, your eyes still held concern. He was tired and closed off. 

Alexei then turned his attention to you and smiled before pulling you into a big hug. 

“Ah (Y/N), it is so good to see you!” he said and smacked a big kiss on your crown. He let you go, and you gave him an awkward smile.

John looked between you and Alexei with confusion. “What do you mean? You see her every day.” John questioned.

Immediately, your gaze dropped to your feet. “She has been hiding in her room for days. I rarely see her during the day, almost like a raccoon. She comes out at night to eat and then hides in the day, you know,” Alexei explained, and you shook your head. 

“What the hell are you even talking about?” John asked with furrowed brows. 

“She is not usual self. She’s depressed.” Alexei decides to announce to the whole room. 

You placed your head in your hands and did your best to take a deep breath. The feeling of John’s stare was burning. Opening your eyes, you took one glance at him, and could see the confusion. 

No one said a word; all you could feel was them staring at you, expecting you to say something or explain yourself. 

You could feel tears well up in your eyes and placed your cup down before walking away. 

Yelena passed you by, before she could ask anything, you were already halfway down the hallway.

Yelena sighed and rolled her eyes. “Alexei! What did you do?” She marched into the kitchen. 

He held up his hands in defense. “I did nothing. All I say was (Y/N) has been depressed and hiding like raccoon,” he explained himself. Yelena pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. 

“Did something happen while we were gone?” John asked. 

“I’m not sure, I did see her talking with Bucky after you left. She seemed really upset.” Bob informed them all. 

John’s shoulders sagged, and he let his head fall back. He groaned in frustration, at what, or who? He wasn’t sure.

Before anyone could say anything else, he walked out of the room. He had an idea in his head of what made you so upset. But he refused to believe it. 

It couldn’t be him, it just couldn’t be. 

He didn’t know where he was going until he reached the balcony of the penthouse. He wasn’t sure why he was there, but he was finally able to take a deep breath. 

“What is going on?” he mumbled to himself. 

Had he hurt you the day he left? What had he done? 

Was it the almost kiss? Had he been too cold? He didn’t mean to be that way. All he wanted was to protect himself and you. Did his fear hurt you? 

John stood there watching the chaos of the city moving beneath him, it almost felt like the city’s restlessness was in his head. 

He couldn’t figure you out. 

You knew exactly where you were going as your feet took you right where you needed to be. 

Standing outside his room, you raised your fist to knock. After the first rap, you heard the lock click open. You shuffled your feet as he opened the door. Immediately, he looked at you, and your arms wrapped around him. 

“Hey, hey, Sweetheart, what’s going on?” Bucky asked and placed his hand on the back of your head to keep you close. 

The door closed behind you as he held you. You didn’t even know what to tell him. You didn’t know if you were sad or mad, or just embarrassed. 

He felt tears soak through his shirt and pulled you closer. He scooped you up and sat on the bed with you. 

He just let you get your tears out before he spoke again. “Did John say something to you?” He asked and brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes. 

The shake of your head told him otherwise, so he waited for you to speak, not wanting to overwhelm you with questions. 

“I’m just embarrassed.” You admitted to him. 

His brows furrowed. “Why would you be embarrassed?” Bucky asked. 

“I was in the kitchen with John and Bob this morning when Alexei walked in,” you paused, and Bucky sighed. He knew this couldn’t be good. 

“He told John that I had been hiding in my room, being depressed,” you told him. 

The look on Bucky’s face was one of pure annoyance. 

“Of course, he’d do something like that. What else did the idiot say?” He asked. 

“He also compared me to a raccoon; it was embarrassing. God, you should’ve seen the look on John’s face.” You went on. “It was terrible, I just had to get out of there. I know it’s stupid to cry, but I don’t handle these feelings well,” you told him. 

“It’s ok Sweetheart, Alexei is an asshole and we all know it. He just can’t keep his mouth shut about anything. I think it’s kind of like a sickness.” Bucky joked. 

You let out a chuckle and rested your head on his shoulder. 

A comfortable silence lay over the room like a blanket. Almost scared you spoke up again, “I don’t want John to think it’s his fault,” you revealed. 

Bucky kissed your head. “Sometimes things happen for a reason. I know that everyone says it, but it’s the truth. So don’t give up on him yet. It’ll work out some way, and if it doesn’t, I’ll be right here.”  His words were comfort enough for you.

“I love you, Bucky,” you said and closed your eyes.

 “Love you, too, Sweetheart.” 

The morning steeped into the evening like an old cup of tea. You sat in your room by the window, as you looked out at the skyline, you wondered how it was that you got here.

That thought came up in your mind more than you’d like to admit. Everyone asks themselves that, but for you, it felt different. The question was more of a ‘why me? ’.

At points in your life, you'd done some extraordinary things, you’d saved people's lives. You’d stood against this country and your friends to come to the defense of someone you believed in. 

You mourned for people who should never have been lost. You mourned for who you used to be. 

You had gone through more than anyone your age should have to in a lifetime, and you believed that was one of the reasons you belonged with the team. 

Your past had brought you to this moment in your life, and for that, you were grateful. You were grateful for the family you’ve found along the way, and you were grateful for him. 

John Walker was a man whom you never would have thought you’d fall in love with. He was sarcastic, cocky, and rude. Yet somehow he made your heart pound, your cheeks burn, and your smile stick to your lips for hours. 

Now, sitting on the floor just thinking about him made your head spin. After your talk with Bucky today, you have been trying to figure out a way to fix everything.

All you wanted was for John to be happy, and if that took you out of the picture, then so be it. If John decided he didn’t want you, you would just have to find a way to cope. 

Movie night was tonight, and after avoiding everyone for days, you decided not to give up. Just like Bucky told you. You were not going to give up on John. 

The hallways were dark as you made your way to the main room. You could hear the popcorn being made, and everyone chatting. Before setting foot in the room, you took a deep breath and did your best to calm yourself. 

You moved to enter the room when someone scooped you up from behind. You let out a shriek and grabbed the person’s shoulder. Everyone’s attention turned to you. 

“Well, here she is!” you heard Bucky’s voice next to your ear. You looked at him with wide eyes, and he chuckled. 

“(Y/N), we were looking for you!” Yelena said excitedly. Bucky placed you on your feet once more, and you shook your head with a laugh. 

“You know I wouldn’t miss movie night!” you exclaimed. You did your best to look unfazed by John ignoring you. 

Alexei almost opened his mouth, but closed it due to the looks he was being given by almost everyone in the room.  

“It is nice night for movie!” he decided to say instead. 

Letting out a soft laugh, you nodded. “I’m glad we’re all back together again.”

You glanced at John and were surprised to see him looking right back at you. A genuine smile stretched across your lips as he gave a small smile back. 

John had been worrying all day about this moment. He didn’t know if you were gonna buddy up with someone else after everything that had happened. Because usually on Movie nights, you always chose the seat next to his. If he were on the floor, you were right there next to him, despite how uncomfortable it would be. If he was on the couch, then so were you with a blanket and two beers in your hand. He knew you didn’t like beer very much. The only reason you got the other one ‘for yourself’ was because he always wanted another one. 

You would have a few sips of it, but he knew the (y/f/d) next to the beer was yours. 

John was prepared for you to cuddle up with Bob or maybe even Bucky. So he tried not to care when Bucky carried you into the room. 

He could feel your words were slightly aimed at him as you said you were glad everyone was together again. You were more so saying that you were glad he was home. John couldn’t help but look at you, and couldn’t seem to look away when you held his gaze. 

The smile on your face was one he had missed so much, he had missed everything about you. The way your eyes brightened when you looked at him, or the way your nose slightly crinkled when you laughed. 

He could see in you the moment he looked at you that you weren’t giving up. On what? He wasn’t quite sure, but it made something stir inside him. Just the small interaction you had in 15 seconds was easing his seemingly ceaseless doubts. 

Something changed in John as you looked at him. He seemed at ease, it was almost as if from one glance he really saw you. You felt as if he saw the determination that had laced tightly around your heart. The determination to love him. It was almost as if you had come to an agreement. An understanding to put aside the past few days and try again. 

“Whose turn to choose the movie?” You question and look around. 

“I. I will choose perfect movie!” Alexei volunteers himself, and everyone lets out a collective groan of protest. 

“Absolutely not.” Yelena pointed harshly at him. 

“What? Why not? I choose a good movie each time,” he pouted. 

“I think it’s your turn (Y/N),” John said. The whole team looked at him. Ava nodded her head. 

“Yeah. It is your turn! Go ahead and choose a movie.” Ava pushed the remote into your hand, and your brows furrowed. 

“Are you sure? It doesn’t feel like it is?” Your voice was uncertain.  

Bucky placed a hand on your back and nudged you toward the couch. “Choose, Sweetheart. It’s your turn.” He assured you. 

You smiled, nodding your head, and you plopped down on the couch. It wasn’t even a choice in your mind, it would always be (y/f/m). 

A smile crept its way onto your lips as you pulled up the movie. John immediately knew your pick from the second he said it was your turn to choose the movie. 

“I forgot my blanket!” you exclaimed, and were about to get up until it landed in your lap. You looked up and saw Bucky standing behind the couch with a smile. 

“Did you want anything to drink?” John spoke up from beside you. 

“I can get drinks for us. Did you want a beer?” You asked and again went to stand up, but he stopped you. 

“I’ll get them,” he said and smiled. 

He could tell you were nervous about him getting the drinks because you always got another drink for yourself. It was cute that you thought he didn’t notice. 

“Oh, I um… ok, thanks.” Your voice was nervous, and you cursed yourself for it. 

John walked into the kitchen, and Bucky stood there as if waiting for him. 

“She’s a great girl, John,” Bucky spoke up just enough so John could hear him. 

He looked over at Bucky, trying to hide the s

urprise in his eyes. He knew he was talking about you, and didn’t know what to say. 

“She deserves to be happy. And as much as I hate to say it, so do you. So don’t mess this up.” Bucky’s voice was softer than he’d heard it. Yet John could still hear the edge of a threat in his tone.

Before John could say a word, the older man exited the kitchen and went back to sit by you. 

John’s heart pounded. He could barely comprehend what Bucky had said. 

“John! Come on, we want to start the movie!” he was pulled from his stupor as he grabbed two beers and (y/f/d). He strode back into the room and took his spot. 

He placed your drink on the table in front of you, right next to the beer. And placed his beer in front of him. 

You looked at your drink, and your heart stopped. Your eyes peered up at the man sitting next to you. You could feel heat rushing to your cheeks as he sent you a knowing grin.

The movie began to play, and as it kept rolling, you got closer to John. The space between you had become smaller and smaller. John looked over at you and couldn’t help but want to pull you closer. The way the screen light reflected in your eyes and the smile you had when watching your favorite scene. 

He felt you move closer to him as the movie played. Your hands fidgeting with the hem of your blanket, dying to reach out for him. To reach out and hold him closer than you ever have. 

You were practically right next to him now, and he decided to end both of your sufferings. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and tugged you into his side. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him. He didn’t look at you as if it was something so casual to do. 

You could see the smile on his face, though. He could feel your stare, but didn’t chance a look. 

Seeing this as an opportunity to toss your blanket over him as well and tuck yourself against his chest, you did just that. That’s where you stayed for the rest of the movie. 

The credits rolled over the screen, but you didn’t want to move. You didn’t want to leave his side, you felt safe and warm. He could feel your reluctance and looked down at you. 

His eyes were warm, and his voice was thick from not using it for a while. 

“You ok?” he asked and ran a hand over your hair. 

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m just sleepy, that’s all.” It sounded like you were uncertain about what you were saying. 

“Let’s get you to bed,” John whispered as he looked at almost everyone around you who had fallen asleep. 

“Okay,” the disappointment in your voice hit him hard. 

He knew there was more that you wanted to say, and there was more that he wanted to say as well. 

He took your hand in his as he helped you up and off the couch. 

Quietly, you stepped around Alexei, who was somehow passed out on the floor by the TV. 

Before you exited the room, you placed your blanket across Bucky’s lap and placed a kiss on his head. 

The whole tower was dark, and the moonlight was sheathed by clouds as you walked through the halls. John’s hand was firm in yours as he guided you towards your room. Now that you were alone with him, the energy shifted again. 

It wasn’t anything bad or uncomfortable. It almost felt like the space between you was full. 

Full of so many words that were begging to be said and heard.

John came to a stop outside your door and sighed. 

He turned to look at you with an expression almost unreadable. 

“I guess this is goodnight then,” he spoke softly as if your team was in the same room as you still, all fast asleep. 

“I guess so,” your tone was disappointed, no matter how hard you tried to mask it. He could tell, and his heart ached. 

You stepped into your room and were about to shut the door when John placed a hand on it. 

“(Y/N), can we talk?” John’s words were shaky as he kept his gaze on his feet. 

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked at him. 

“Yeah, of course we can,” your voice was laced with nerves. 

Your hands began to shake as he stepped into your room and shut the door. What was going to happen? Was this it? Or was this the end before it even had the chance to begin? 

You both stood in silence for a few more seconds than was comfortable. Not knowing how to begin. 

“Did I do something wrong?” John’s voice was one of confusion.

You sighed. You knew this would be a question. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you told him.

He shook his head and dragged a palm down his face. 

“Then tell me why you’ve been acting so strange for four days.” his tone was gruff as he looked at you with questioning eyes. 

“It’s not your fault if that’s what you’re thinking.” You did your best to remain calm. John noticed the way your hands wrung together as you answered him. 

Now, in his mind, that meant he was the exact reason you cut yourself off from everyone. 

“I know I was cold before I left, okay? I’m sorry.” You could see he was getting frustrated. But he didn’t seem angry, he didn’t sound like he was gonna yell. He just looked tired. 

“You don’t have to be sorry. We all have bad times, not everyone gets to be happy and teeming with life all of the time.” You tried to give some kind of reassurance. 

“I was an asshole for just leaving like that.” he admited. Your stomach dropped, and your eyes narrowed. 

You couldn’t stand the fact that he was so harsh on himself. Sure, it wasn’t the nicest way to leave things after what had happened that morning. But not everyone deals with fear the same way. He tends to turn his head away and pretend it doesn’t exist. To be honest, he doesn’t do a great job at pretending, but he tries. 

“I understand, John.” The softness of your voice made him wince. You reached forward and gently, almost hesitantly, took his hand in yours. 

The feeling of your palm against his and the cool silver of your rings between his fingers caused a shiver to run through him. He didn’t want to look at you in fear he’d break, and so he kept his gaze focused on the floor. All he could see were your socked feet right in front of his, a reminder of how soft you were compared to him. He could easily lift you into his arms and never put you down. 

“What do you understand?” John’s shoulders relaxed as your thumb gently pressed circles over his pulse point. 

“That you’re scared,” you dared say it as his eyes finally came up to meet yours. He could see the nerves on your face. You didn’t want to upset him or make him feel less than because you could tell he was afraid to try again. 

The look in his eyes was something you had never seen. It wasn’t hurt or anger. It wasn’t confusion or frustration. It was almost as if he were completely bare. His eyes held a vulnerability you had never seen. His hand tightened in yours. You encouraged him to sit with you on your bed. 

The bed sank beneath his weight, and it almost felt like that weight was more than just muscle and bone. It was his fear, his struggle, his doubt. It was as if everything that he kept locked away to haunt him on a sunny day came out to play. You could see the way he seemed to bend to its will and weight. 

It broke your heart. You slid from the bed and onto your knees in front of him. He looked up at the sensation of someone’s hand on his knee. John’s eyes were weary as he looked at you. 

“John, it’s ok to be afraid. I think we all are on some level, and no one deserves to carry that weight alone.” Upon hearing your words, his heart sighed. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore,” his voice came out as a whisper. 

Your gaze softened, if possible, as you placed your palms on his face. 

“We can figure it out together if that’s what you want.” The suggestion caused his breath to hitch.

The man leaned into your touch, his stubble softly scratched at your palms, and you smiled. 

“Okay,” his confirmation was firm but quiet. It was as if he was saying, ‘I trust you’. 

He leaned forward and placed his forehead against yours. “Together,” you promised, nose nudging his softly. 

You weren’t sure how long you stayed there until his hand, calloused but gentle, gripped your chin. Your breath got caught in your throat as you felt him tip your head back. 

Looking up at him, your eyes sparkled. He looked at you again, as if you were the only thing in this world he wanted to call his. As if you were the only thing he has and ever will need. 

His thumb smoothed over your bottom lip, you could hear your heart beat against your ribs. You were so close to him, you were scared he might be able to hear it. The look in his eyes showed something so soft, his gaze wasn’t looking through you; he was looking at you.

Really looking, it was as though he wanted to memorize you. 

John’s hand was steady as he cradled your jaw. Instinctively, you leaned into his touch, and little did you know how that made him feel. 

There was a feeling he got in his chest, a warmth bloomed within him that felt just like you. 

He could finally breathe; there was no need to hide. Something in the way you so easily melted into his touch showed just how much you trusted him. 

With your eyes closed, you could feel the way he looked at you. You felt him shift, and soon enough, you were off the floor and in his arms. The shock was easily noticed in the small yelp you let out and how you instantly held onto him. The feeling of you clinging to him made his heart race, and his head swim.

With your legs on either side of him and that look in your eyes, he swore time stopped for a moment. It was easy to see what you wanted, and John still couldn’t believe that it was him. 

From his position, he gazed slightly upward at you. The smile on your face was all it took to confirm just how in love with you he was. And no matter how much that still scared him, it’s all he’s wanted since the day he met you. You couldn’t stand him then, and here you are looking at him like he was your world, like he was so much more than a broken man. 

The grip on your hips suddenly tightened as he tugged you closer. He felt your hand creep its way into his hair, gently tugging the strands. He saw the way your gaze flickered to his lips when his hand traced its way up your body to grip your neck, continuing to urge you closer.

The way you completely melted into him felt like the first ray of sun after the longest winter of his life. But what he didn’t expect was the way your lips would feel against his. 

The kiss wasn’t desperate or messy. It was everything that it needed to be, gentle, slow, a complete culmination of months and months of pining. 

You pulled away, both of you in awe of the moment you shared. 

John’s eyes searched your expression, to see nothing but wonderment. A certain charged anticipation rolling off of you in waves. He didn’t know what to say, so he let himself fall into everything that you were to him. 

Strength, peace, and absolute divinity. 

You sighed against his lips and ran your hands over his broad shoulders. The feeling of the man in front of you letting himself get lost in you was all that you had wanted. There in that moment, you got to experience what it felt like to be consumed by devotion, every sound, every sigh, every breath was captured by his lips. His large hand moved to cradle your jaw, tilting your head in a way that he could deepen the kiss. 

His teeth grazed your bottom lip, and you moaned softly into his mouth. A kiss was placed on your open mouth as his hand slid down to place a gentle grip on your throat. Not too harshly but with enough pressure to know you’ll feel his hold for days. Enough to make you greedy for his grip. Your head fell back as he left open-mouthed kisses across your warm skin. 

Your fingers tangled in his hair, doing your best to keep him close. The feeling of his stubble scratching along your sensitive skin made you shudder. 

He placed a hand on the back of your head so he could bring his lips to yours one more time. 

John opened his eyes just to see you with yours still closed, your lips were kiss swollen. You looked like the best thing that’s ever happened to him. 

“You look so pretty like this,” his voice was raspy, and you could feel the words vibrate in his chest. 

Opening your eyes, you found he was already looking at you. You felt heat rush to your face at his words, and you turned your head away to avoid his gaze. Your nose nuzzled against his wrist, and you placed a tender kiss on his skin.

You heard him hum lowly at the feeling, and felt as he turned you back to face him. 

“Please don’t hide from me, sweet girl, not now.” his words made your heart skip a beat. 

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m all yours if you want me,” you told him, and he grinned. 

“I’ve never wanted anyone more.” John pressed his forehead to yours.

----

The next day came, and as you were once again getting coffee. You were just hoping you might be able to finish and enjoy your coffee this time. 

Alexei and Bucky were the only ones in the kitchen when you entered, and you smiled sleepily at them both. They could tell that something had happened. You were different, they could see the love written all over your face. 

Bucky’s heart swelled as he took in how radiant you were, how happy you were. 

“Good night (y/n)?” Bucky asked with a small smirk. 

You looked at him and rolled your eyes playfully. You could tell he was teasing you. 

“Perfect, actually. Thanks for asking,” you retorted, and he chuckled. 

“Perfect. Wow, that’s big change. You look like you slept well for the first time in days!” Alexei cheered as boisterously as ever. 

“Well, thanks, I guess being a raccoon just wasn’t for me.” You said and shrugged.

Before anyone could say anything, John walked in, immediately kissing your head. 

“I like you exactly the way you are,” he whispered as his arms wrapped your waist. 

“What if I were actually a raccoon? Would you still love me?” you questioned him. 

“Yeah, of course,” he huffed out a laugh. 

“What about me?!” Alexei interjected. 

“Yes,”

“No”

You and John answered at the same time. He looked at you like you were crazy.

“Everyone deserves to be loved, even raccoons,” you shrugged.

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 16!

well it's been a wild week... i just want to quickly point out that i'm not a major angst reader (not without a happy ending, at least) and when i'm searching for fics, one of the very first filter options i click is the one to exclude mcd fics, so. i'm sure there's tons of beautiful, beautiful post-8x15 fics being written, but you probably won't find them on my rec lists.

please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some contain spoilers for season 8. and if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

between something and nothing | taegyungie | 11.8k | E

It all begins with a heated conversation: “What, you want me to fuck you in your sleep?” this both has some truly beautiful prose and is also mindblowingly hot. if you're looking for freak4freak explicit buddie, you can't really go wrong with this author's fics tbh and i'm so here for it!!

can we go home? | carpediaz/@sofa-king-lame | 1.8k | GA

The one where Eddie and Christopher figure out why everything in El Paso feels wrong and fix it. i love how eddie is written here!! this is soft and sweet <3 it's partially set during golden hour and it feels like such a golden hour of a fic, if that makes sense? just so good!!

coming right back home to you | justhockey | 7k | T

And this is good, it’s great, it’s more than Buck ever imagined he would find for himself. More than he ever thought he would be trusted with. But there’s that part of him that lurks just beneath his ribcage - the selfish, greedy part - that longs for more than this. For more than just a few evenings a week, hanging out like friends do, pretending like it doesn’t break his heart to love Eddie in a way that Eddie could never love him back. such a lovely one <3 i love how this one captures how buck sees eddie and the found family is so good!!

grown with care | coldbam/@coldbam | 8.1k | E

Buck and Christopher start a garden. Eddie is in love. this fic genuinely makes me want to grow a garden (i have a massive black thumb and zero garden space so this will not work lmao) but like that goes to show just how good this is. the best pieces of writing are always inspirational, i think, and this is definitely that <3

i want your flowers like babies want god's love | Daisies_and_Briars/@cal-daisies-and-briars | 17.5k | E

In Texas, after a setback with Chris and his parents, Eddie is forced to confront his inner child. Literally. i love how this captures both eddies!! and their interactions were the best, as was buck with little eddie. so lovely <3

if i stay here i'll never leave | napricot | 5.2k | E

Buck looks after Eddie, after the events of "Eddie Begins". i have such a soft spot for post-eddie begins fics <3 this is soft and tender and just so incredibly beautiful!!

i'm only honest when it rains | 061828 | 3.9k | T

the four days following the well collapse. this is such a beautiful look at eddie's mindset during and after the well collapse!! i love how he's written in this one <3

international let's hug day | KejfeBlintz/@kejfeblintz | 1.3k | GA

Eddie was yawning his way through fastening his uniform shirt when the door was flung open. Before he even really registered someone else’s presence, a body flung itself into his back and two strong arms clamped around him, squeezing tight. this is the kind of fic that immediately makes me want, like, ten more that are almost exactly the same, that's how much it hit the spot <3 so fluffly, so good!!

keeping score | arcanaphora | 23.2k | M

After getting dumped, Buck is left with two tickets to a weeklong cruise. Eddie steps in to support a friend in need, but complications arise when his friend becomes his fake husband. All's fair in love, war, and trivia. cruise ship trivia fake dating?? a string of words i never thought i'd put together but that delights me so very much. this is beautiful and fun and such a good time!!

on my last strength against you | markofalover/@markofalover | 9.1k | E

Eddie could just use his words, but where’s the fun in that? honestly yes eddie this is much more fun!! why do that when you could just wear a crop top instead? this is fun and hot and just <3 also the bird feeder!!

risotto | mandolare/@rainscenes | 2.5k | T

Eddie listens to the music coming in from the living room; to the sounds of Buck washing up, the rustling of clothes, the tell-tale spritz of cologne, the mere anticipation of it all making Eddie actually salivate. He is hungry, but more than that he almost doesn’t care to eat the food, not right now, only really looking forward to watching Buck take the first bite; the way he closes his eyes every single time as if he’s eating at a three-star restaurant, not Eddie’s— their— dining table. this is the most wonderful read!! i love when eddie cooks in fics and this whole setup is so, so good <3

room for two | 42hrb/@exhuastedpigeon | 3.3k | E

“Dude, you’re not sleeping on the couch, you pay half the rent,” Eddie pushes Buck into the bedroom when he walks out of the bathroom on the third night of Buck’s 4 off. He’s almost dreading Eddie coming back to work next shift, then he’ll have no reprieve. “I promise I don’t bite — not unless you ask nicely.” this is so soft and sweet and also hot and also so beautifully written <3 so good!!

slide into home base | sibylsleaves/@jeeyunspetrat | 5.1k | E

Eddie's the star pitcher of the 118's intramural softball team. Buck is the assistant coach who has a few pointers for him. ohh my god the vision that is this fic!! so hot, so good, so very buddie <3

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

✧Night Moths

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: Arthur has a simple task to do, searching for any lead possible at the Mayor's party. Only problem? You also have a job of your own. Based on “The Gilded Cage” ✦ Warnings/tags: guns, strangers to…sinners?, SMUT 18+, reader is part of a St Denis gang, cover names used at first, smoking, Arthur is extremely horny and a little rough with you (you pushed his limits), cursing, outdoor sex, fingering, tits play, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v ✦ Words: 9,8k ✦ a/n: YES. I KNOW. This is super long. I have absolutely zero excuse. I feel like this is my best piece yet, but I'm so nervous about posting it! Once again, a big thank you to the incredible @zae-heeyyy, my jedi master, my confidence-booster and patience Queen, who beta-read this big baby and helped me so much with so many things, as always. (Go check her blog I'm begging you)

Glasses are twinkling and clinking all around you. Words are spoken, laughs are let out, champagne drank.

You're leaning against one of the stoned garden walls, fancy decor of the Mayor's house, the perfectly cut bushes looking just as fresh and neat as every guest at this party. You can hear the distinguished music coming from a quartet playing under a gazebo a few meters away from you, and smell the fresh air of the night blending with aromas of flowers, expensive alcohol, hint of vanilla and sweet scents hiding a stronger note of sweat and cologne. Around you, all the richest, wealthiest, and noteworthiest of people in St Denis. You can hear them talk; their conversation as dull and superficial as an empty chrysalid, an abandoned cocoon emptied from all substance, from all interest and life.

You hated those kinds of discussions. Hated those kinds of people, the ones that have the easiest and simplest life one could ever have; being fed, being cared for, even being told what to think and do. You almost envied them in a way, they didn't have to worry about a single thing apart from losing their power. It seemed comfortable somehow, worry-free. The exact opposite of what you had always known.

And yet, you had to bear with them. A very specific task had been assigned to you by your gang. A simple job, one you were often sent off to as you had grown by the years into a great thief and a terribly efficient shapeshifter; blending into any type of party, or gathering, always making a good impression, putting people at ease. You were now an expert at this little game, especially with rich men. They were all the same, always wanting more, demanding the same thing from you. You had learned how to play with their greediness and lust to turn it into your advantage, saloons becoming your jungle as you sneaked easily between your prey to rob them, a deadly and redoubtable leopard in a world of apes.

You needed to steal some important documents from the mayor's office. The main informer of your gang had specified it was a pretty strong lead, and that you could gain a lot from it; something to do with Leviticus Cornwall's dirty deeds with the mayor, a blackmail opportunity. 

Your boss had decided to send you, knowing you would easily integrate the party, and even more easily steal the documents. So here you were, feline eyes looking all around you, scanning, observing, evaluating. You couldn't just come, steal the papers, and go; it would have been too suspicious. All the contrary, you needed to be seen and leave a good impression like you always did, maybe stay for a couple of hours, and then smoothly retrieve your goal before disappearing in the secrecy of the dark night. A flamboyant, harmless butterfly… on the surface.

You sighed, trying to pay attention to what was being said to you. Right in front of you, a middle-aged man was talking, explaining something about how he had acquired his incredible wealth. His speech was sadly boring, his eyes glum, his clothes basic, his face awfully bland.

The empty chrysalis in all its gloomy glory.

You forced yourself to nod and give the man a charming smile. This was your job. You had to at least do it properly. Why was tonight a lot harder than the others? Were you frightened to be right under the Mayor's nose, fooling him into his own home? Were you tired, or sick? 

In a way, you were. Sick of this life, of this constant pretending, of being here listening to the literal hollow vessel bragging about himself, sick of needing to appear actually interested, charmed even. 

Suddenly, the music coming from the quartet is too loud, sharp violin blending with his words, making you even less focused. You were here for too long already, you needed a break and to finish your mission.

You politely interrupted the stranger, placing a gentle hand on his forearm, a gesture that you had noticed was prompt to soften most men. Along with your most charming smile, you excused yourself from him and quickly walked to a less crowded area, praying that no one would interrupt you.

You made your way up to the exterior stairs of the luxurious mansion just before the patio door and windows, and stopped on top of them, placing your hands on the central low wall, between two Greek columns. Another fancy facade, the house itself was just an imitation from another culture. Did any of these fools have any personal identity at all?

From here, you had a good view of the whole party. Countless fake smiles, masks, a literal scene of a play that could have its place at the Théâtre Râleur. A play of pale phantom shells.

You reached for your purse, taking a cigarette out, mindlessly putting it between your lips. Maybe smoking would help. You searched for a match, silently cursing realizing you hadn't any left.

"Ya need some fire, Ma’am?"

A deep voice said behind you, making you turn, surprised. It was unusual for people to startle you, your ears had been trained to notice the faintest of footsteps in order to survive.

You got even more surprised considering who had talked. A man was standing before you. He was taller, and largely wider than you, his black suit struggling to contain what looked like a well-built body; which made you wonder how could he have been so quiet. His shoulders especially looked way broader than the men you had the habit of running into at those sorts of gatherings. A very classical white bow looked like it was strangling him. His black tailcoat and white jacket looked larger too, making you wonder how much did he had to pay for the tailor to sew them custom-made.

His hair had a soft indescribable color, somewhere between a light brown and a sandy blond. His face, the work of a brutal draftsman, rough edges and strong squared jaw gratified with some scars. One on his chin, another on his nose, nose that seemed broken now that you were thinking about it. It looked like the artist that had drawn this man had sharpened his pencils too much and traced lines in a hurry, piercing through the canvas, his features ending up rugged and scared, some trace of graphite shrapnel that would have damaged the portrait.

What disturbed you the most were his eyes. They looked out of place considering how robust his features were. One could have expected them to be dark, black even. But they were the exact opposite, their bright and soft indigo color leaving you disarmed, two sapphires locked on your own pupils.

He was handing you a match, and you slowly took it, your fingers slightly discovering how his palm felt under them. Firm, calloused.  Another stone-like feature of him.

He looked like those Greek statues carved by artists. His beauty so singular and yet enticing. So different.

"Why, thank you, kind sir." You showed your gratitude to him with a grin, lighting the match by simply rubbing it against the cold stone of the fence, a little flame appearing instantly. You brought it to your mouth, the cigarette finally catching fire, and you breathed in.

"Ya don't smoke much?" He questioned, voice deep. You hadn't noticed how deep it was the first time, nor how pronounced his accent was, dragging and drawling every word, a slow melody of his own.

"Not too often, indeed." You informed him. It was the truth, you were basically just smoking during jobs to blend in more easily, most people doing it. It was an easy way to start a conversation with anyone. Just like he had done with you, you noted.

"Needed a break from high society?" He inquired, a sarcastic tone in his voice.

"I guess you could say that." You answered, exhaling a long drag of smoke. 

You were now completely turned to face him, your cigarette making back and forth from your mouth to the air where you tossed the burned ashes with a little movement from your thumb to the cigarette’s end. Your motions were elegant, distinguished but looked natural. It caught his interest.

"What's your name, sir?" You spoke again, curious about this uncommon newcomer.

"Tacitus Kilgore. What is yours, Ma'am?" He asked you back before placing himself on your left, both of you leaning on the low fence of the patio. 

You contained a chuckle. There was no way in the World this man was named like this. You knew something was odd about him. The scars, his knuckles redden and subtly wounded as if had fought recently.  His strong stature, miles away from a lazy bourgeois being served, his wild hair longer than the actual trendy haircut, his stubble fitting more a countryman than an actual St Denis gentleman. 

Years of playing with people and observing them had made your eyes alert and expert, and you could see when someone was pretending.

When someone was playing a role just like you were, not belonging into this World.

"Rose Schultz." Of course, it wasn't your real name either. You had to be a really poor thief to give him your actual one. He didn't react to it though, his face impassible just like the start of your whole conversation.

Apart from this vague feeling you had about him not being a rich gentleman, you found trouble in reading his emotions. His facial features were closed, impenetrable, mysterious. This also disturbed you as you had the habits of figuring men out right away; he on the other hand was a whole challenge by himself, his intentions hidden behind an emotionless face. This man probably was a champion at poker.

"Nice t' meet ya, Missus Schultz. Are you, erm, hidin' from someone here? Or jus' judgin' everyone from your perch?" He went on with a more amused voice.

"Just know that I'm not the type to hide from someone, Mister." You replied, a little grin curling up your lips.

"Yeah, you sure don't look like it..."

"You wanna know what I think you look like, Mister?"

"Go ahead."

"A wild horse who's trapped, and can't wait to be freed again."

Silence. His eyes stared deeply into yours, stabbing you in sharp blue flashes of Apatite, as keen as the blade of a knife. After just a few seconds, you finally see his mouth moving, his cold expression changing as a slight grin made his way between the stillness of his features.

"You sort of a witch or somethin' ?" He asked you, amused once again. His little smile is even more evident in his eyes, his lower eyelids crinkling slightly in amusement.

"Maybe." You answered cockily, feeling more at ease with him now that he was slightly more open. 

Still, there was something that was making you feel weak in the knees; maybe it was his tall stature, his strong build, or the palpable tension you could feel beaming out from him, as if he was ready to jump on someone who would have crossed him at any second.

In a way, you liked it. It was almost exciting.

"I better not mess wi’chu then. Don't wanna end up cursed or somethin'." He joked, features relaxing, body leaning slightly more against the low wall in a more comfortable position.

"Oh, I wouldn't dare. You also look like the type of man you don't wanna mess with..."

"I'm surprised how well you already know me, darlin'." He admitted, internally enjoying your conversation more and more.

Your heart swelled at the surname. It felt so good in your ears, it sounded better than from any person who ever said it to you. You wanted to hear it again. You wanted to hear him say it just to you.

"I'm kinda talented at figuring people out." You simply replied, before taking another drag at your cigarette.

"I too. And I also think you're not here to jus' play nice with everyone and enjoy yourself." He suddenly confessed to you with a knowing gaze, eyebrows raising as if he was trying to make you understand something.

He knew too. You both knew you weren't from this world, like two predators from the same species, recognizing themselves, circling, judging, from one individual to another. Your breath stopped for a very short time, nobody could have noticed it, but somehow you were sure he did.

"Don't ya worry little "rose", I won't tell no one..." 

You didn't miss how he was playing with your false name. On top of being astonishingly handsome, he had some spirit…

He's still looking intensely into your eyes. "In return, I expect you to do the same...", he added in a low voice, his tone firmer and even more resonant than earlier.

A threat. His presence only intimidates you, and it's working so well that you're almost sure he must be an expert in terrorizing too. He must be one hell of a weapon all by himself.

You slowly nodded your head, trying to swallow as naturally as possible to look unphased. 

"Guess we have a deal here, "Tacitus"." You emphasized his name, making it clear you're more than doubtful about it being real too.

It made him laugh, and you almost lost it at the sound of it. It was as deep, raw, and genuine as his entire being seemed to be. You loved it. You loved it too much.

Exhaling some smoke, you noticed he had pulled out a cigarette too and had joined your smoking, holding it between his thumb and index finger. You had mixed feelings for this man. He was just as intimidating as he was enticing, and you let your curiosity win the best of you as you carried on your conversation with him.

"I hate it here." You suddenly confessed.

 There was no point in playing anymore, and even if you didn’t really know why you had told him that, a part of you felt like maybe, just maybe, he could have understood you.

"Yeah, I get what ya mean. Sometimes I think that those people are jus'… reptiles in fancy clothin'."

You had seen right. Your chest felt light, as if he had lifted a weight in you with just those simple words.

"I just want to be anywhere else but here. Somewhere nicer, more authentic. Like in Big Valley..." You went on with your regrets.

"You too know about this place uh? Yeah, I can picture ya picking flowers in Lil’ Creek..."

This time it was your turn to chuckle, your laugh creating a little puff of smoke in the air. Was he being serious or just teasing you? You didn’t really care. Now, you felt like something special was linking you both as you knew exactly where this spot was, a happy memory brought back in your mind thanks to his words. The wild and fresh river, the meadows covered in thousands of violet flowers, the snowy mountains in the background.

Your cristal-clear laugh made him smile back at you.

"So... What does a woman like you is actually doing here, then?" He asked you, his eyes roaming all along your body while he did. 

You were glad you had put on the prettiest dress you had, its dark burgundy color matching perfectly the tone of your skin, and its generous cleavage showing a delicious amount of your chest, underlined by a black translucent shawl covering your shoulders and twirling around your arms. You were offering a tempting sight for every man. You knew he had looked at it, his eyes lingering there had almost burned your skin, sent a warm feeling between your tights, and made your hand hold your cigarette tighter.

"You really thought it would be that easy, Mister?" You answered with another cheeky grin, looking at him with a sensual gaze, your words let out in a languorous whisper, knowing damn well he was trying to gain information, probably to probe if he could get something out of it for himself. "You really thought I would just confess everything to you about myself and what I'm doing here, just because you've got a firm tone and pretty face?"

He let out a dry single chuckle, his cigarette hanging in the air, smirking some more. This damn smirk, it was making you have more and more inappropriate thoughts about this man. The wildness, the dangerousness he was emitting should have made every girl flee, but you, all the contrary, were attracted by it like a moth to a flame.

Or maybe he was the Moth. Maybe he was the beautiful, singular, and ephemeral Moth in the world of chrysalides you were searching for all along.

"Oh trust me, I could make you spit out everythin' I want, Miss." He replied to your taunting words with the serious threatening tone he had used before. "Could make this pretty mouth behave..." He added, looking right into your soul, bending slightly towards you.

You felt like the tension was about to make your whole body burst. There was something between you two, you were sure he could feel it too. A sinuous, dark creature swimming and circling incessantly under the surface of a frozen lake; waiting, craving to be unleashed, to break the thin layer of ice that was keeping it caged.

He was inviting you to measure yourself to him. Bent towards you, wanting you to close the other half of the space between you both. A challenge, or a mark of respect, the case you didn’t want to venture into this territory.

But truth was, you wanted to. You wanted to break the ice yourself, you wanted to just kiss him, right here, right now.

Of course, it was a bad idea. And you were a professional, on a mission.

Instead, you put your hand on his bicep and brought your head inches away from his, not closing the space between your mouths. You’re accepting this silent fight, excited to show him what you’re capable of. You’re enveloped by his strong scent; your lips so close to his. You can see by his widening smirk how delighted he is you didn’t change your mind nor lost your guts. Responding to your bold move, he slowly snaked an arm around your waist. His hand landed on your lower back, just on the verge of being offensive.

Both of you stayed like this for a moment, your breath mixing, merging in a dangerous and exciting cocktail, but neither of you actually crossing the limit.

He could sense just how close he was to though, his muscles were tensed under your fingers, his forehead almost resting on yours with a light frown on it. You could see in his impassive handsome face a whole new emotion. 

Pure, raw lust.

"You're such a temptatious, thorny rose..." He mumbled in a hot whisper against your lips, the warmth between your legs now burning like a wildfire. Your pussy was aching for him, and you couldn't hold it anymore.

You felt his body twitching as he was going to finally do it, finally break the ice of the frozen lake, finally let his impulses and needs break free, his unholy, deep, atrociously torturous desires-

"Ah, Arthur !" A relieved voice interrupted both of you and he immediately let go of you, his head snapping to look at the man who had talked, eyes widening.

A tall gentleman with a perfectly cut mustache as black as his long curly hair and hat was looking at your companion with a contained,  amused smile.

"Will you excuse us, Miss?" He said unctuously to you, his voice polite and charming.

It was more of a statement than a question. He quickly took one of your hands and put a polite kiss on it before bending slightly towards you, as a gentleman would, and looked at your opponent with an insistent gaze.

Arthur was fulminating. He wasn't actually showing it, his face had come back to its usual cold, emotionless expression. But you could feel from where you were the unbearable tension and frustration that was dripping from his body language, almost as a halo of warmth you could physically touch with your hands. He took a last look at you, eyes expressing a mix of regret and bitterness.

"Goodnight, Miss." He coldly greeted you, walking next to you to follow his friend and go down the stairs, his shoulder brushing against yours while doing it.

"Goodnight, Arthur..." You answered him emphasizing his name once again, making it really clear that you remembered it was not the one he had given you and that you were pretty proud you had seen right. A playful, teasing grin on your face, you look one last time at him before he vanished in the ocean of guests.

Your Butterfly had disappeared just as quickly as he had materialized; leaving you alone with the empty cocoons once more. It was more than time for you to do your job and get out of here. Your cigarette finished, now feeling cold between your fingers, you tossed it away and headed into the mansion, feeling just as frustrated as so-called Arthur.

Arthur was pissed. He had never felt so frustrated in ages, and it was making his thoughts even less easy to discipline. His cigarette was on the verge of being smoked all at once from how intense he was getting and how heavy his breath had turned, the end of it constantly burning in a red shining little point as he was walking. 

This whole year he had felt like he didn't have any control over anything anymore and he hated it.

He was already feeling embittered in his everyday life, Dutch listening less and less to his opinion, Micah sneaking around him more and more, Mary coming back to him just to ask him to help her goddamn father who had always treated him like shit. 

On top of that, Dutch had made him look like an idiot using his actual name in front of you, making him wonder what was even the whole point of having a cover if he wasn't capable of sticking to it; which he had bitterly pointed out to him, but his superior had shrugged it off, seemingly happy to be here amongst the important people, looking as careless as ever.

Yes, Arthur was feeling frustrated, frustrated and tired of this. Tonight, instead of giving of himself, he wanted to take, for once. He needed to, even. He was about to before being interrupted, and this thought was gnawing at him from the inside. 

He was barely paying attention to what Dutch was saying to him and the others once Hosea and Bill had joined them. All he could see was your insanely beautiful face, your inviting lips, the perfect outline of your breasts from your cleavage, like engraved into his pupils.

The way you were talking, charming and teasing, the way you were smoking, all of this dreadfully turning him on during all your conversation. He had made an enormous amount of effort in order not to just kiss you.

He had joked about you being a witch, but it was the only explanation: you had bewitched him, threw your darkest, most sinful curse on him. Never in his life he had felt so attracted to someone after having talked with them for only such a short amount of time. What an insane fool he was.

On top of it, he was raging about the fact he probably wouldn't have the occasion to see you ever again. He had understood you clearly weren't just another rich man's wife, and he was certain you had given him a false name. His cock was throbbing terribly hurtfully in his pants, making his jaw clench, his brows frowning even more than usual. It was begging to be buried in you, between your legs, in your mouth, or your hands, even your breasts or your ass, anything but the cold feeling of nothingness he was feeling right now around it.

The sudden explosive sound and colorful lighting of fireworks had pulled him out of his blasphemous thoughts. 

He understood Dutch was ordering him something about following one of the Mayor's domestic, and gladly obliged, relieved to have another thing to focus on. Something about Cornwall sending an important letter to Lemieux, which he had to steal. Nothing difficult, he had done those sorts of things countless times. 

Nothing new. 

Nothing puzzling, like you had been.

As he followed the man, eyes locked on his white suit from afar, he quickly took a glance at the patio to see if you were still there. You weren't. His dick ached as he let out a deep exhale. Damn it.

Arthur rapidly found himself inside the Mayor's house. His servant had entered what looked like an office. He waited a few seconds after the room had felt silent, behind the corner of the walls, just to be sure, and entered it.

The room was indeed an office, a little desk with an armchair on his left, bookcases covering every wall, simply illuminated by a flickering orange lamp. Everything looked normal, except for the dark figure of a person in the middle of the place.

You.

He recognized your sensual dress immediately and witnessed you shoving some papers in what looked like a leathered little pocket held around your right thigh by leathered straps, just like a holster would be. His mind raced, a million reflections flying under his eyes. 

You were some sort of professional thief. And he didn’t have to be a genius to understand you had just taken the precise thing he was there for.

"That's why you were here, lil' rose?!" He asked you almost in disbelief, closing the door behind him.

You looked at him with a bold grin, looking almost amused by the situation. He, on the other hand, felt nothing but amusement. Anger, to have been fooled so easily, and that you had got ahead of him, losing the quiet game that had been played out between you. Envy, as you were now possessing two things he wanted to take away from you. Arousal, as his eyes were glued to the thigh that was now visible to his greedy eyes as you had pulled up your dress to put the sheets in your hidden pocket. Need, as his member felt hard again just by the sight of you doing it.

"Yeah, and you can only dream for me to give them to you if those papers were your target too, Arthur."

Damn, that teasing, cheeky mouth of yours. His fantasies came back in full force, and his gaze darkened. As temptatious as you were, he needed those documents. And he would do anything he had to to have them back.

"Give ‘em to me." He lowly ordered you, voice so severe you could have melted right into the carpeted floor of this damn office. But you didn't.

"Hell no."

"Give ‘em t’me, woman. I won't ask nicely a third time."

"If you want them, you'll have to catch me, pretty boy."

Lord, why was everyone so prompt to call him this way lately? He almost grunted at the way you had said it, and he would have lied if this time he didn't like it when it fell from your lips. He wanted to reply with something witty and even more threatening, but in a flash, you had opened the window, and easily jumped outside.

This Goddamn woman. What was she exactly? Some sort of feline? Yeah, probably a panther, agile, impressive, dangerous like one.

He instantly ran after you, jumping through the window too, landing in a loud thud. He quickly spotted your dress running away, escaping by the entry’s portal, then in the nearest street, disappearing behind St Denis's myriad of flashing lights. 

How could he had missed it? His mind was filled with images of it.

He had the common decency of grabbing back his gun from the butler at the party's entry, making him almost fall on the ground as he hadn't slowed but had grabbed them while running, the poor man wondering what the Hell made both of these people in such a hurry.

He was now flying at full speed around the luxurious streets, following the faint glimpse of your dress's color at the corner of every turn. He felt like he could follow your scent like a hunting dog, your sweet and peachy perfume confirming him you had passed there before.

He had enough, feeling his restrain and manners crackling more and more into little pieces. You were making him feel like a damn animal, reducing his whole being to primal needs and functions. He should have been disgusted with himself for that. But all he could do right now was thinking about the damn documents hidden against your damn alluring thigh.

"Stop now, you Goddamn... Evil woman!" He tried to call you out, but you just wouldn't stop. He started firing at you, getting angrier and more fed up by the second, a bullet exploding a piece of the bricked wall right next to your head, some splinters cutting slightly the top of your ear.

You bent over to dodge his bullets one more time and you heard him cursing again loudly behind you. On top of being big, strong and clever, he was fast. In a quick movement of your feet, shaking them, you removed your shoes, unable to run at your fastest speed with heels. You continued your frenzied course, way more at ease.

Arthur rushed in where you were just mere seconds after you, noticing the shoes abandoned on the floor. What the Hell was even this woman, he asked himself for the second time this evening. Some sort of temptatious, dark retelling of Cinderella?

He almost made himself laugh at the thought, understanding your move because his own polished shoes were frankly a pain to run with, making him slip with every shift as if he was walking on soap and regret his good old boots, before acknowledging he had lost your trace.

Shit!

He looked all around him, his eyes scanning every inch, his breath rapid and sharp, his forehead and neck a pool of sweat. No signs of you, unless... 

Something fell right on his face, but gently, as a caress from a fresh breeze. Your perfume filled up his nostrils and lungs and it made his heart race. He took it in his hands, the sensations pleasant under his fingerprints. 

It was your black shawl.

Tilting his head up, he found you.

You were making your way up to the roof of the town by climbing on a thin ladder.

Arthur exhaled deeply through his nose like a buffalo. He was used to this kind of high-speed chase, but this was a whole new thing, which made him regret his lasso too, his hand searching for it on his belt out of habit but closing on nothing. 

Damned party, damned suit, damned you. 

He climbed after you, refusing to give up, enraged like a wild beast. 

He would catch you, dead or alive.

In a way, this was making him even more aroused than any work-girl show he had ever seen.

"I'm going to kill ya, that's a promise!"

You could hear just how furious his voice was now, and you were starting to pray you would flee successfully from him, cause you knew he would eat you alive if he could get his hands on you.

Arriving on top of the building, you caught your breath for a microsecond, before searching for a way out, gaze frantic, heart beating out of your chest. You were considering climbing to another roof, but the deep, breathless sounds of your pursuer prevented you from doing more thinking.

Arthur had reached the top of the roof too, and was already aiming his gun at you. This time he didn't even bother to say anything, shooting at you again while getting up. He was so seething you wouldn’t have been surprised to see saliva bubbling from his mouth.

By divine intervention, you dodged again, and without any thinking, you ran all the way to the edge of the roof, and jumped.

You stayed in the air for a few seconds.

You felt like time had stopped, the air brushing against your skin, your heart hanging somewhere between the sky and the total void.

You landed on a fancy and illuminated balcony a few meters away. You hurt your feet and legs with the shock, but smiled proudly to yourself. You were out of reach, he was way bigger and way heavier than you, there was no way he coul-

A gigantic mass fell on you, as Arthur had proved you wrong and jumped from the roof you had just left and was crashing directly into you. 

Both of you fell on the ground and struggled for a few seconds; you tried to resist him but it was a fight already lost, this literal force of nature easily handling you like he wanted. 

You ended up lying on your back, Arthur sitting on you, towering over you with all his might, quickly grabbing your wrists to prevent you from fighting, his legs parted around your hips stopping you from escaping. You were trapped.

"You're a pain in the ass girl, you know that?!" He shouted at you, breathless, raging mad. You were both panting, sweating heavily. His face was entirely red, and your cheeks even more crimson.

You both looked at each other, eyes locked, and you stayed silent. The dark creature prowling under the thin floe had returned and it was getting bigger, stronger, out of control with each passing second. There was something extremely erotic in the way he was almost lying on top of you, both of you out of breath, sweaty, and burning red, both your hearts beating at full speed in the same erratic rhythm.

Just like before at the reception, you knew he could feel it too. You knew it from the dark gaze he was looking at you with, the shady swirls of the murky leviathan reflecting in the depths of his pupils, from the deepest well of his urges, forbidden territory to which no man ever had access.

A simple touch of his hand, that's all it took.

He put both of your hands into a single one of his, using his other one to pull up your dress, fingers roaming on your thigh.

You couldn't hold it anymore, you bent toward him and slammed your lips against his in the most powerful and decadent kiss you had ever shared with someone, almost biting him.

The moment you did, Arthur's mind exploded, and every poor drop of restrain he had evaporated as quickly as if it was on the Sun's surface. The beast had won, finally shattering the weak layer of ice into a million pieces; your two souls blending in what could have felt like a fevered dream.

The grunt he let out onto your kiss was animalistic, and the tension in his body just as powerful as a waterfall with a brutal, unstoppable current. The hand that was holding your wrist let go of it and slipped under your head, fingers in your hair, as his tongue licked against your lips, searching for a way in. You let him in, eagerly, wondering if he would have forced the way if you didn’t. 

He tasted strong, as if to match his whole being, a powerful flavor of tobacco, merged with a faint trace of sweetness and bitterness from the champagne he had drank. Like if you were smoking the finest and strongest of cigars. It made you love it even more.

Abandoning all your restraints too, your hands wrapped around his neck and your hips started pushing up against his, even if you couldn't move much, his two muscular thighs keeping you grounded to the balcony's paved floor. It felt so cold against your back, contrasting with the heat Arthur was burning with, consuming, devastating, raging.

He growled again when he felt your movement under him. He needed more of you, right now. This whole seduction game, the adrenaline rose by the chase, your bold charming attitude, your insanely insolent beauty, it was making him insane. He roughly ripped off his bowtie with one hand, needing some air; it felt like you two were under the desert’s scorching sun, stifling, dazing. 

The right hand he had on your thigh traveled even higher under your dress, devouring every inch of flesh it could, and his appetite was only getting worse the more he discovered you. He smoothly moved his legs from around yours to put himself between them, and you instantly, almost from instinct, hooked them around his hips.

The sudden contact of your blazing core against his equally hot bulge made you sigh in pleasure, and he loved it. Breaking your kiss for the first time since you had initiated it, he pulled back to look at you, his deep gaze devouring you, undressing you just by its stare. 

“What’s your real name?” He asked you, voice hoarser than ever, demanding it from you.

You told him your name, limbs feeling like mush under his intense eyes. He repeated it quietly, like a prayer he would recite on his own. You felt less and less like the panther you thought you were, and more and more like he was the predator alone. In a shaking tone, you questioned back to know his full, real name, needing to know what words you’d have to whisper in gratitude when he would finally take what he wanted from you. To whisper, or shout to the Heavens.

“Arthur Morgan.” He let out, his lips quickly returning to their current addiction, your skin. The way they were attacking your neck didn’t have an ounce of control now, his mouth opening widely to almost take a whole bite of your flesh there, letting kisses everywhere it could.

“Tell me if you don’t want this.” He added against your skin, between two greedy open-mouth kisses.

A way to escape. The predator stilling, letting a way out. But you didn't wanted it. Not at all. Not now that he had surrendered to you, trusting you with the intimacy of his real name, that would be stuck in your mind for God knows how long.

“I want it.” You asserted, voice almost cracking with the weight of your need.

He moaned a relieved sound in answer, his nose exhaling some air that tickled your neck.

You weren’t even sure he could stop himself if you had said no. He was consuming you, and he felt completely drunk, as if you were coated with a powerful whiskey. Strong alcohol that his tongue was now licking all the way from your shoulder, up to your ear.

You moaned, the feeling of his hungriness so good and perfect on you.

"Gonna take care of ya now." He growled in a rumbling whisper, making your legs feel weak. Another one of his promises, but this one was going to give you salvation, and you were thanking him for keeping it. 

The bold hand he had under your dress took another step towards insanity by landing on your undergarments, his thick fingers searching for a way in. You were trembling with anticipation. You couldn't even register the fact that you were really doing this, right now, with a complete stranger you had met only a few hours ago, and who wanted to kill you minutes before, on the balcony of what looked like a habited place.

The obscenity, the depravation, the boldness of it was only matched by his relentless thirst for you.

His fingers had finally pulled your underwear to the side, and you sighed seeing him on top of you, eyes drawn to your bare pussy, carnal features empathized by the obscurity of the night. The tip of his fingers traveled amongst your folds, wolves into the forest, a territory they were now claiming as theirs.

You almost begged for him, for the wolves to eat you up all and let nothing behind them, please Arthur, and he offered you this damnation, the desperate call of his name igniting another fire in his already infernal mind. A single, calloused finger pushed into your folds, making you spread your legs even more to grant it better access. It was stretching you pleasantly, his skin rough and firm inside. You started letting out sweet, quiet moans, showing him just how much you were enjoying this.

Your two hands now gripping his back, holding on for something, anything, his dark jacket suddenly feeling way too smooth to grab onto; you were wondering how touching his naked back could feel.

Arthur was doing everything in his power not to burst once more, grunting in response to your loving sound. Slowly, he pushed another one, thriving in how wet and hot your cunt felt around his fingers, craving for the moment he would finally be able to feel this downright perfection around his cock. He felt like he was ruining you, throwing you to these wolves, and you were thanking him for it.

For now, he focused on you, blue eyes glued on your face when he started curling his digits inside of you, searching for this so special, so delightful spot within your walls. He was observant, noticing every sound you were making, every muscle tensing, to know if it was the place you liked that he was brushing right now. Wanting it to be the place you liked most.

By adding his thumb on your clit and pushing a little deeper his index and middle finger in your desperate pussy, he realized he finally had found the Graill as your back arched against the ground, your own hands gripping harder on him, eyes shutting in pure pleasure.

"Oh, God! Yes, right there..." You rewarded him, voice high-pitched and filled with delight, a tingling sensation spreading on your legs and shoulders.

He exhaled deeply, your words making his own member gorging, pressing against the fabric of his suit that felt too small to contain him. He started pushing in and out, pulling a whine out of your throat with every movement, as the thick tip of his fingers rubbed against your sweet spot every time, wolves once again in a world of sweetness and honey, lapping your delight, feasting on your pleasure.

“Told ya I would make this pretty mouth behave…” He said cockily after one of your moans. He was enjoying this all too much, finally feeling in control again, being the one and only responsible for your ecstasy. 

The distance between his mouth and you seemed to be unacceptable for him as he had succumbed once more to his needs, his lips finding your skin again, tongue tasting, teasing your chest this time, everywhere he could on the cleavage he had desired since the first time he had laid eyes on you tonight. Bent over to you, looking like a curved beast feasting on its prey.

You were feeling your pleasure building, Arthur’s face hungrily searching for one of your nipples under the neckline of your dress, and sucking it once he had finally found it. His teeth and nose had pulled your dress, freeing your entire left breast, bare, defenseless in front of him. 

Maybe he was the wolf himself. He sure looked like it, his face a maw fed by your soft flesh.

Every nerve of your pussy screamed for deliverance, this familiar sensation taking form in your lower stomach. Your moans were becoming even more high-pitched, breathless, almost obscene, much to the outlaw's delight.

You had thought of him before being a terribly efficient and multi-functional weapon. You couldn’t have known just how right you had been, your hardening nipple still chewed by his mouth while his right hand was sending you to your edge, thumb skillfully circling on your clit faster and faster, the two other fingers tearing apart your sweet spot, in and out, in and out, again and again, until…

“A-Arthur, don’t stop, please!” Your voice slit the night open, tone pleading as if you were begging for your life.

“I won’t girl, it’s all okay… Give it t’me…” He encouraged you, even his breath feeling rough against the skin of your chest before he sucked hard on the skin of one of your breasts, accompanying you to your salvation.

It was enough to send you over your limit, your pussy clenching, throbbing, entirely consumed. You moaned so loudly it could have turned into a scream, hips jerking against his palm, his other hand quickly grabbing your hip to steady you and carry you through it as his fingers were dragging every last drop of your pleasure out of you. 

“Yeahhh, that’s it gorgeous, just like that…”

He was frowning, the sinful sensations of your wet cunt coating his fingers in a warm slick and tensing around them making his eyebrow and jaw just as tensed, his face just a hint of how fucking riled up he was because of it.

Your head was still spinning and your breath uneven when he finally pulled his digits out of your walls, the fresh air replacing them. Lost in your haze, you weren't capable of doing anything else but looking at him through lidded, heavy eyes.

He was absolutely beautiful, even more than at the start of the night. His true nature out at last, his white fancy shirt disheveled now that he had removed his bowtie and soaked from efforts. Cheeks and throat as red as a sanguine sunset. Pearls of sweat sparkling on his burning skin with the Ocean of street lights of St Denis, reminding you of a night sky, making his sandy hair stick to his forehead in the hottest way possible. 

You didn't knew how could all this had escalated so quickly, but at that moment, you felt like this man before you was your whole universe, his deep ultramarine eyes completing the stellar work of art he was, shining, shimmering, more than any star in the sky, as if the Gods had capture the entire Milky Way and imprisoned it in his being.

Arthur had ultimately pulled his cock out of his black suit pants, only piece of flesh out of his clothes, and your thoughts were immediately contradicted; there was no way any virtuous God could have made a man so depraved. He was the work of the Other Side, Lust and Temptation personified. King of the wolves, he could have had all the Hounds of Hell kneeling before him.

He pumped himself a few times, unable to resist the call his member had been screaming for hours, reinforced by the way his fingers had tasted your wet cavern. Some precum had already leaked from his big pinkish head when he was fingering you and was now glistening in the night, making you think about the stars again. Your breath got caught at this sight and you couldn't stop yourself from letting out a praise.

"Perfect..." You simply stated in a whisper, eyes glued to his throbbing, veiny member, relieved he had already pulled an orgasm out of you because there was no way he could have fit in you otherwise. Your eyes followed the dark path of his hair, from the glimpse you had on his chest between the open collar of his shirt, all the way down to his pelvis and at the base of his shaft. 

You could only imagine what it looked like without any clothes on, and you were dying to know.

"Trust me, you're the perfect one, darlin'." He asserted, firm tone leaving little to contradiction. 

He positioned himself in front of your entrance.

You weren't even completely back from the world your first relief had brought you to, and he was already at your door again. But this time, Arthur couldn’t stop himself.

He had given once again, just like always. Now he wanted to take. He needed to take. The starving, depraved wolf. Slowly pushing, teasing himself, making his cock’s head sink into your dripping territory, creating wet and soggy sounds, a hardened spear into honey. 

He couldn't hold back a baritone moan, the feeling was even better than what he remembered. He hadn't taken the time or allowed himself to lay with a woman in ages, and God, what a return to this primal bliss.

He slowly moved some more, his hands spreading your legs a bit wider from around his waist to allow him to penetrate you more easily. Once you had entirely enveloped him, his tip deep inside, he let out another deep throaty grunt, the feeling making it hard for him to keep his thoughts clear. 

"Ahh... Shit, darlin’... So tight…"

Considering how his length was stretching you, you bet he felt your pussy tight. The first word that came into your mind was “complete”. So complete with his huge cock inside of you; you felt like you could have died happily like this. One of your hands slipped from the top of his back to the lower part of it, just above his ass, pressing there, showing him just how much you wanted him to move, to let go. 

Arthur didn't need much more as he pulled back slowly only to snap his hips back against yours, his cock pushing again all the way through your cunt in one hard single time, giving you another wave of pleasure as you both moaned together, unable to resist the intense sensation he was creating for both of you.

Hearing you whine, finally feeling your perfectly tight and warm pussy around him, it was making him lose all sense of restraint, and as your other hand ran through his hair, your angelic voice whispering his name as if he was your Lord and savior, he lost it. 

He started to pull in and out of you faster, harder, your bodies colliding in a delicious way, obscene noises echoing through the silence of the darkness. His increase in pace made your body scream in pleasure and you buried your face into the crook of his neck under the collar of his shirt, biting his skin there.

It made him grunt loudly, and one of his hands roamed from your hips to your rear, grabbing a fistful of your ass in an instinctive response. His other hand was on the ground next to you, keeping him from crushing you against it. It made your head blank with pleasure.

"Shit, Arthur! M-more!" You begged, feeling like you could die if he stopped, your voice turning into high squeals.

"Anhh- God... More? Don’t worry girl, I'll g-give you more...-Mmh!" 

His voice was heavy with pleasure, words cut off by moans and grunts you were delighted to hear, the most unholy and arousing music you had ever had the honor to listen to.

True to his words, he obliged, hips thrusting endlessly, member empaling you with each move. You could feel the flesh of his pelvis against yours with how deep he dived into you, and around it the stiffness of his suit, rubbing again the breast he had pulled out of your dress before, nipple sensitive after his previous treatment. 

If what was between you was once a frozen lake, it had now turned into an Ocean of lava, magma exploding, engulfing both of you in the most burning and devastating passion you'd ever experienced, a volcanic explosion of desires.

The hand he had on your asscheek reluctantly let go of it, but you ended up thanking him for it, cause he was now using it to put your left leg above his shoulder, grabbing under your knee, allowing him to fuck you in an even better angle than before. He was ruining you once again, but this time felt like the pack of starving enraged wolves had taken him with you to consume him entirely.

You leaned against the floor, back of your head feeling the paved coldness, only hint that everything was actually real. Arthur's eyes locked with yours as he kept on fucking you hard and fast, this intimate contact making his member twitch.

You felt so goddamn good around him, and looked so goddamn gorgeous like this, your cheeky grin long gone, replaced by a delightful frown of pleasure, mouth open in a quiet scream. Arthur felt his peak coming dangerously close, but his pace hadn't slowed, his fat cock thrusting in and out of you. In and out, like a furious, sacred metronome. In an out, like a blessed psalm you'd both be reciting together.

“Come on girl, I know you have another, -Damn it!-, another one in ya. Give it to me, come on, jus’ for me…”

Words and voice drowned in a flood of pleasure and curses, of deep grunts and growls, his possessiveness sending you over the edge once again, your inside closing its trap around him, squeezing just how he needed to.

His eyes shut close, eyebrows furrowing in utter pleasure as he sank so hard and deeply you could have felt him splitting your guts in half, his dick throbbing and harder than ever. It reached a spot so deep and good inside of you, burning it, your pleasure bursting as you felt your orgasm coming for the second time.

"A-Arthur!" You cried out as you came around him, creaming him, walls clenching in a delicious sensation that made him reach the stars.

"God, damn it!" He shouted, voice deeper and rougher on the curse word before quickly removing himself from you in a flash of lucidity, finishing messily, cum spilling from his red sensitive member in white spurts that ended up right on your belly as a feral, powerful growl escaped his chest and his head tilted backward, letting you see his throat covered in sweat and veins.

For a moment, both of you had turned into beasts, shattered all the limits, broke all the shackles, diminishing you into your more primitive instincts. The Wolves of Lust had devoured your being into the very last delicious bone.

And that’s how you felt. Boneless.

Now, stillness. A cold breeze enveloped the pair of you, the only sounds now being the distant agitation of the city and your pantless breaths. He slowly brought his chin back down and opened his eyes, mesmerized by the sight of you returning from the realm of pure pleasure he had provided for you for the second time.

He felt powerful. He felt good. Better than he had for months, finally satisfied. Like a God, a King. King of all the Wolves, Cerberus, the only guardian of your unholy realm.

He wanted to do this again with you, as soon as possible.

He carefully put his softening dick back in its clothed cage, fingers fumbling with the buttons of his pants as he felt completely spent, his hands shaking slightly. He wanted to help you get cleaned up, but you had already brushed what you could of his release off your dress. 

It would probably leave stains on your clothing nevertheless. 

A twisted, dark part of him, the part that came from the same pit as the dark creature and the Wolves, felt almost aroused and proud at the thought you would keep an imprint of him on it. This part was relishing noticing the big ruby mark it had left on your breast as you were putting it back under your neckline; he grinned to himself knowing it would make your memories of him more difficult to forget. 

He didn't want you to forget.

He slowly got up, offering you his hand to help you stand. You quickly put back your dress in its usual state, and wiped the sweat off your forehead. A silence settled between you two, thousands of questions floating in the air, but none of you ready to ask them out loud yet.

Finally, as you started shivering, only realizing now how cold this night was without Arthur's burning hot body on top of you, he spoke, voice even hoarser from having pushed on it too much, accent making every world sound heavy when they fell from his mouth.

"When can I see you again?" More than a demand, a promise. An order even. Cerberus needs his territory.

You already knew he kept them; his promises. Except for the one he had made to kill you. But in a way, he did, because you felt like you wouldn’t be able to ever feel so alive again without him. 

Like a condemnation.

"You won't." 

Certainty in your voice. But he didn't mind it. He had already broken you before.

"Oh, but I think I will, darlin'." Was all he said before stepping over the fence of the balcony, ready to jump off it. Before doing it, he pulled something out of his jacket and waved it at you.

The fucking papers.

A lightning of understanding and panic struck you; what you had thought was a lustful touch on your thigh, the one that had set everything on fire between the both of you, that had unleashed the Wolves, was in reality his sneaky hand retrieving the document from your hidden pocket.

Shit!

He gave you his cocky grin, blue gaze sparkling with mischief, greeting you with a two finger’s salute then jumped, disappearing in the night, away from you once again. You could have gone after him, as much as your weak and spent body would have allowed you to, but somehow, after all that he had done to you tonight, you felt like he had well deserved those damned letters.

tagging: @a-court-of-valkyries credits: Arthur's pic is not mine, belongs to fv8tt on Pinterest. Dividers and little moths doodle by me.

I reall hope you liked this one! I'm thinking about writing another part where the reader could confront Arthur again... Tell me if you'd like that! -Pine 🌱