#is to give the fandom somewhere else to go

[holoska]

after debating for weeks whether to stay very far away from the deltarune soriel discourse or let myself ramble about my faves like I want to, the latter has finally won out

I've had time to properly absorb the weight of all that happens at the end of chapter 4, and obviously I do feel for both kris and susie. that is The Point of the scenes being from their perspectives; after everything they just went through and all the worry they had for toriel's safety (for the second time in 24 hours!), the scene they come home to is maybe the most uncomfortable slap in the face possible. it sticks out to me that the last thing susie talks about before the dark fountain is sealed is her wanting tomorrow to be the same as yesterday and for everything to always be able to go back to how it was, and that's what greets them - a blatant, obnoxious sign that things are changing. even though the scene has a lighthearted side, its overall tone adds to the downcast feeling the chapter ends on.

having said that, as someone who has spent the past 9 and a half years being normal about sans and toriel, I'm still very very happy that this is a canon scene we got 💜

the fandom may be largely not considering their perspectives in the slightest (or worse, only viewing their perspectives from the most bad faith angles possible), but I for one love this for them!! as other very good posts have pointed out, toriel has been sorely in need of someone who's there for her - an awful lot of people in town saw the divorce play out and have something to say about it, the holiday family are closer to asgore than toriel, kris is her child and stuck in the middle of their parents' issues, and while she's friends with alphys, them being coworkers and alphys being kris' teacher likely puts a distance of sorts between them. but sans is new in town, someone she immediately connects with, who has no pre-existing opinions about her family and has seen firsthand what toriel has to put up with from asgore. in every universe, sans is exactly the kind of person toriel needs in her life.

there's less to work with from sans' perspective given how little we know about him, and I'm not all-in on sans being from deltarune just yet (more specifically I do love the theory, I'm just giving myself room to not be too disappointed if it doesn't happen), but the new version of it's raining somewhere else being named 'the place where it rained' emotionally destroys me forever. either way it drives home just how happy toriel makes sans in both worlds and I love that so so much :']

to be clear I'm not saying they did nothing wrong, their choices negatively impacted kris and susie and they were objectively disruptive and inconsiderate after kris went to bed. but I like that they're being messy and flawed, because it means this isn't just "my faves are getting closer in the background yippee" but that their relationship is potentially an actual part of the story, and that's how you get The Good Stuff!! we wouldn't have had meaningful character moments like noelle finally standing up to queen if queen hadn't tried to control noelle and just listened to her from the start, or susie comforting ralsei with her bloodied hand if he'd told her and kris every detail of the full prophecy the moment he met them and never kept any secrets. if all the hints towards a flower shop dark world turn out to be true then it's pretty clear the story is building things up to make those future character moments hit, and considering we still don't know what happened with the dreemurr divorce at this point, chapter 5 seems like a perfect opportunity to dive into all of that.

plus, as sweet as susie's bond with toriel is, I honestly think susie seeing this side of toriel needed to happen. a lot of the fandom's complaints about toriel right now boil down to her not being the "perfect mother" they thought she was, and what bothers me about that is toriel was never meant to be that kind of character. toby has said that she's not the classic video game protagonist's mother who sees you off on your journey and you can come home and visit any time, and nothing changes and she never has any substantial character of her own. in undertale she literally handholds frisk through the tutorial, she becomes the first boss in her attempt to protect them when every other human left her care, and once they leave she won't let them come back or even call her phone because she can't face seeing them knowing they'll leave again and likely be killed. she's more than just the mother figure of the game, she's her own person with likes and dislikes, hobbies and flaws, and a past and trauma she can't overcome until the best ending.

we've only seen the tip of the iceberg of her history in deltarune, but that same principle holds true: she isn't the perfect parent you return to after each day's adventure, who gives you butterscotch pancakes every morning and never has any real part in the story because that isn't the intent behind her character. she mentioned her loneliness back in chapter 1, kris has secrets and problems they aren't letting her in on, asgore is being relentlessly inconsiderate of her boundaries, and for all susie's praise of toriel being a good mother, I think that house of cards was going to fall eventually. my hope is that, like her blowing up at ralsei ultimately bringing them closer, susie being able to see toriel as the imperfect adult she is but one who does genuinely care might help them build a stronger bond in the end too.

I think I always knew that if soriel ever inched closer to being canon there'd be discourse about it, and toriel slander is unfortunately nothing new. people are just being annoying about it currently and it sucks when I genuinely love what's being built up here!!

anyway crossing my fingers for a scene where toriel invites sans to the festival before she gets thrown in the bunker/he gets sent to undertale/the roaring happens/all of the above 🤞

[catsconflictscopicsandchamomile]

Ok this post might get me bullied off this site and tbh I’d deserve it but here goes

Angels are public domain

And I’m damn good at Making Shit Folkloric Beyond All Recognition

If anyone here has recently lost some angels and wants help finding them, my dms are open. I’m in a European timezone rn (actually in Ireland ahhhh!) but will respond when I can.

To be clear I’m not going to give sympathy, or encourage denial, apologism or the de-prioritization of victims. I am offering my services to provide religious/extracanonical/mythic/folkloric sources for any angels, mythically-important humans, gods of dreams or other entities that people on tumblr may be looking to reclaim.

I am doing this with the intention that the versions of these characters & stories created by fandom may continue to exist without any name, branding or other ties to a certain author. I would ask that these resources be used for that purpose- if you plan on only partially distancing yourself from that certain author and his works, please stick a boot up your ass until you can taste leather. Thank you.

(Also, anyone inquiring about the folkloric whereabouts of a witchy young woman, five or so vaguely ominous tweens and a dog will be subject to Gratuitous Amounts Of Arthuriana. You have been warned.)

[mellowswriting]

until it takes (domestic!Javi)

pairing || Javier Peña x f!Reader

word count || 3.2k

summary || a lazy morning with your husband quickly devolves into something more

content || **SMUT** breeding kink, housewife kink, praise, p in v sex, Javier "Obsessed with my wife" Peña, he's a little weird and obsessive but we love him

a/n || ...no one look at me LMAO dusting off the blog with a good old fashioned husband!Javi smut fest. looking forward to branching out into a new fandom soon 👀 love you bunches

Main Masterlist | Javier Masterlist | Library Blog

It's the soft press of lips against the back of your neck that pulls you from sleep.

You can't help the displeased groan you give in response. It doesn't deter him. He just chuckles, low and raspy with sleepiness as he trails kisses up the ridges of your spine, along the curve of your shoulder. The pieces come to you slowly, trickling in as sleep finally begins to wane. His chest is pressed firmly against your back, his thigh pressing between your own. His arm locked around your waist, an eager hand tracing along your ribs. There isn’t an inch of your skin that doesn’t feel his presence. 

You don’t bother trying to resist when he pulls you onto your back with practiced ease. This is a dance you’ve done too many times to count. He’s early to rise and impatient to wake you every morning without fail. Your eyes flutter open, squinting against the sunrise despite its softness. It’s early - too early. Your fingers tangle in his mess of curls and you let your eyes close, if only to block out the offending light. You’re all too content to lie there basking in the warmth of the sun and the curiosity that follows his wandering touch. His kisses trail aimlessly wherever he pleases; along your cheeks, over your fluttering eyelashes, to the tip of your nose. By the time he finally captures your lips, you’re drifting in that soft space somewhere between sleep and consciousness.

“Good morning,” Javier murmurs. You can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Too early,” You sigh in response, not bothering to open your eyes. 

“Let me make it up to you.” 

Javier moves to settle over you and you make space for him without thought, your thighs spread around his own. You blink up at him with a sleepy smile on your face. You’ve always loved how he looks fresh from sleep. Mussed and messy, his curls sticking up every which way. His touch is slow and meandering, content to simply feel you beneath his palms. He looks at you with such reverence, such intense focus - it feels like you hold the center of his universe in the palm of your hands. 

You’ve never been able to resist him. Javier hums a pleased little sound when you pull him closer for another kiss. His hands are hot and insistent, slipping up your shirt - his shirt - until there’s nowhere else for it to go but off. Your underwear is quick to follow under his eager hands, tugged down your thighs and tossed to the floor. He’s just so easy to get lost in. His kisses become more persistent, tinged with a hunger you recognize all too well. Heat blossoms beneath your skin, spreading with every beat of your heart. 

Your thighs tighten around his waist, hips arching up to grind against the bulge of his cock still trapped in his briefs. The friction of the soft cotton, the sweet little sound it pulls from your lips, only spurs him on. A low moan leaves him as he dips down to drag his teeth along the column of your throat. 

Your nails find purchase in the taut muscle of his shoulders. Javier presses you into the mattress, hips rolling down against you in long, languid strokes. It’s impossible to think straight, impossible to make a decision; part of you wants to beg him to rip through the thin piece of fabric that separates you and fuck you until you can’t breathe. But this feels so good - just two impulsive, eager bodies desperate to feel every inch of one another. You press your head back into the pillows as his lips press against your nipple, his warm mouth engulfing the sensitive bud. 

In this moment, the only thing that exists in this world is him - his tongue, his hands, the relentless grinding of his clothed cock against your cunt. It’s only this moment lost in the shimmer of an early morning usually spent stealing kisses before he slips out the door to work. A flicker of clarity breaks through the cloud of desire, some echo of responsibility drawing to the forefront of your mind. 

“Wait -” You sigh. Javier doesn’t pause, all too caught up in lavishing your breasts with attention. You tug at the curls at the back of his neck. “Javi, wait! Don’t you have work?”

Javier just shakes his head before flicking his tongue against your nipple. Fucking tease. “Called out.” 

“Why?” You ask through a breathless laugh. 

“Oh, amor,” He gives you that cocky grin you adore. “We have plans, remember?” 

Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. There are no appointments today, no huge tasks that demand an entire day away from the office. You tick through the running list of to-dos stuck to the refrigerator - donate old clothes, clean out the eaves, find a contractor for the bathroom renovation, finally tackle the spring cleaning you’ve been putting off for weeks. Nothing important enough to pull him away from work for an entire day.  

“Alright, you’ve got me.” You concede. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“My wife wants a baby.” He states matter-of-factly. You blink at him with wide eyes, your lips parted in surprise. Heat flushes up your chest and settles in your cheeks at a low simmer. Your heart feels like it might beat right out of your chest. He grabs your chin and kisses you soft and short before words can find you. His voice is gentle when he continues. “And what my wife wants, she gets.” 

All you can muster is a whisper of his name, your tone somewhere between surprise and awe. You’ve known how ready he was since the moment you nervously broached the topic a few months ago. He could barely bite back the grin on his face when he cradled your face in his hands and reminded you of the promise he made on your wedding night. That you would want for nothing, that he would put the world at your fingertips without a second thought. All you had to do was ask. 

“Been tracking your cycle.” He confesses. Anticipation curls into a tight knot in your belly at the glint in his dark eyes - bright with hunger but steadfast in his resolve. “Took the whole week off just for this.”

“You’re insane.” The teasing tone falls flat in the face of your desire. His fingertips glide along your sex, humming a pleased sound at how wet you already are. 

“Not insane.” There’s no missing the pride that clings to his words. He slips one finger inside of you, quickly followed by another, and curls them upward into that spot he knows so well. You can’t help the whine that leaves you as he slowly rubs your g-spot with that stupid grin playing at his lips.  “Just a man who keeps his promises.” 

He leans back slightly, just enough to watch your cunt pulse around his fingers with every little movement. There’s no hesitation in his touch - just well-rehearsed thrusts that unravel your very being from the moment he sets his pace. Your hips buck into his hand when his thumb rubs against your clit. You sigh his name, all pitched and breathy, and you swear you can see his pupils dilate at the sound. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” He coos, a tinge of pointed self-satisfaction creeping into his voice. It would drive you insane if it were unearned, but the pleasure building low in your belly proves him right. You can’t help but rock down into his touch. “Just achin’ for it, aren’t you?”

It isn’t fair for him to expect an answer when every crook of his fingers drags you further into that abyss of mindless pleasure - but he isn’t exactly known for being fair. 

“Gotta use your words,” He tuts at you. “Tell me what you want, baby.” 

Your lips part, a plea at the tip of your tongue - and his fingers move faster, zeroing in on that sensitive spot that replaces any conscious words with a sharp cry. Your back arches on instinct as a molten-hot spike of pleasure pulses through your body. 

“Don’t tease,” You whine, unashamed of the desperation that drips from every syllable. “I need you, Javi. Please.” 

It is unrepentant need that has you pawing at the waistband of his briefs until he helps you tug them down, stretched taut around his muscled thighs. Your teeth sink into your lower lip at the sight of his cock hanging heavy, so close to where you need it. There’s no resisting the temptation; your hand wraps around his cock and you revel in the feeling. The weight, the heat that emanates from him. So thick that your fingertips can’t touch. The first stroke of your fingers draws a low moan from your husband, his resolve already crumbling under your touch. You stroke him slowly, finally meeting his heavy gaze again. 

“I want you to put a baby in me.”

His fingers slow to a crawl inside you. His eyes slip closed as he draws in a long breath, only fluttering open again once he exhales. There’s a look that crosses his face, an intensity that you’ve come to know so well. A shiver slips down your spine and settles low in your belly. He usually revels in dragging honeyed pleas from your lips, in toying with you until you really beg. But this morning, with the intention that hangs thick in the air, those words are all it takes to snap the tenuous hold on his self control. 

You’re left achingly empty as his fingers slip away. Javier makes quick work of his last scrap of clothing, his briefs disappearing into the abyss with your own clothes. His cock slides along your dripping pussy with a slow, methodical roll of his hips. He lets out a quiet fuck as he feels you clench around nothing, your body enticing him back where he belongs. 

Your breath catches in your throat when the blunt head of his cock presses inside you. The stretch always catches you off guard, but this is different, more intense. Maybe you’re too used to an orgasm or three before he finally fucks you. Maybe it’s the knowledge of the claim he’s laying to your body, to your soul. He sinks into you in one slow, devastatingly deep roll of his hips, and you swear you can feel him in your stomach. Your cunt pulses around him, desperately trying to keep him there, to pull him impossibly deeper. 

All you can do is squirm beneath him, whimpering his name in a plea for something, anything. The sight he makes only fuels the need burning through your veins. Javier’s eyes are closed, his lips parted to let short, rushed breaths escape him. His hands squeeze at your waist where he pins you to the bed, a pointed attempt to ground himself. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” His voice is rough, rumbling through his chest like a low roll of thunder. He all but collapses into you, one hand haphazardly braced beside your head as he gives in to that obsessive need to be as close to you as possible. The change in angle presses his cock snugly against your cervix and sends that dull ache of pleasure-pain rocking through your body. Your nails bite into his shoulders where you cling to him, drawing him in until his nose brushes yours. “Feels so fuckin’… God, you’re so good for me. My pretty little wife.” 

Javier tries to be still above you. He tries to let you catch your breath and adjust to the sudden fullness. He really does. Each breath ghosts across your skin in a staccato beat, followed by the soft melody of unsteady sounds on every exhale. His hips rock forward on their own volition - he’s barely even grinding against you, but it’s enough to have you both drawing in a sharp breath. He curses under his breath as if chastising himself, but he can’t stop. The slightest movement allows him to grind against your clit, coaxing the flames of your desire into a wildfire that burns through your core. 

It doesn’t help that you can’t stop touching him; your hands trail up the planes of his back, over his ribs, along his collarbone. Touching, caressing, scoring little marks into his skin with your nails. It’s all too much. Your fingertips trace a line along his jaw before finally curling in his hair and pulling him into a kiss. Javier moans against your lips, his tongue immediately seeking out the heat of your mouth.  He pulls out slowly before burying every inch back inside you. Testing, careful. Barely restrained. Your hips roll into his with his next too-slow, too-gentle thrust, and he practically whines. He takes it for the permission that it is, and that first real thrust sends you spiraling. 

The kiss breaks with a sound so uninhibited and raw that you barely recognize it coming from your lips. Your grip wrenches tighter in his hair and that sharp pinprick pain only spurs him on. Javier presses his forehead against yours, sharing your breath as he buries his cock as deep as your body will take him. Everything about it is devastating - the pressure against your clit, the unrelenting pace, the overwhelming fullness. And all you can do is take it, caged against the bed you share. 

There isn’t anywhere in the world you would rather be. 

You press a kiss to his lips before whispering against them, “I love you.” 

He chases your lips with an achingly needy sound, high in his throat, like nothing you’ve ever heard from him before. He whispers it back like a plea. I love you. I love you, baby. More than anything. The sincerity pours from him with every word, bleeds into desperation in how he fucks you. It takes every ounce of conscious thought to keep your eyes from rolling into the back of your head. Pleasure hitches in your belly, wavering on that fine line of devastation.

“‘M close,” You barely manage to gasp the words out. 

Javier pushes himself up just enough to see the aftermath of all his hard work. And if you thought he looked like a dream before, this must be heaven. He must have finally fucked you into an early grave because - holy fuck. He gazes down at you with wide eyes, the beautiful brown of his irises consumed by his blown-out pupils. The look he gives you is hungry but reverent - as if he can’t believe you’re here, you’re his, and he can never get enough. 

“Fuck. Fuck, baby you’re so -” His rambling breaks apart with a wounded sound. “- fuckin’ perfect. Made for me.” 

You’re so consumed by the heat threatening to boil over that you don’t realize his hand has slipped between your thighs until the rough pad of his thumb swipes against your clit - and you’re gone. That coil finally snaps and your back arches so violently that his pace falters. You can feel his gaze burning into you, eager to capture every millisecond of your pleasure. Sear each detail into his brain. You can barely make out his raw groan, the low murmuring of his praise. Fuck, that’s it, baby. That’s my girl. 

His hand flies to your hip, fingertips indenting your skin so hard you know they’ll bruise. The grip tightens and forces you down, and it's only then that you realize you’re writhing beneath him, begging with barely intelligible pleas. A faltering groan rips through his chest as he stills inside you, and the warmth that spreads through your core feels like nirvana. 

Every other sense goes hazy as the heat coursing through you lowers to a simmer. Your eyes feel too heavy to focus. Your ears feel like they’re stuffed with cotton. But you can feel him as Javier melts into you. You can feel his panting breaths where his face is tucked into your neck, cooling the sweat that clings to your skin. You can feel the rise and fall of your chest against his. You can feel the ache in your thighs, still pressed wide around his waist. You can feel his cock slowly softening inside of you, still twitching in a valiant effort to get hard again. All you can do is feel - as if every synapse in your brain can only focus on this while your consciousness slowly reboots. 

It isn’t until you shiver that Javier finally moves. The man runs hotter than a furnace, so your air conditioning works overtime to keep the house at a pleasantly cool temperature. But the slide of cold air against your bare skin is almost too much, too stimulating after it all. He shifts off of you with a grunt, shushing your displeased whine at the loss of his heat. Two fingers tap your hip. You crack one eye open to find him kneeling next to you, pillow in hand. 

“Lift.” He murmurs. 

A teasing smile twitches at the corner of your lips. “You’re ridiculous.” 

You do it anyway. 

“Well, you’re the one who married me, so I think that says more about you than me.” He teases right back. He shoves the pillow beneath your hips, a slight frown on his face as he adjusts it to his satisfaction. So concentrated, intent to get it right down to the most minute detail. He tugs a blanket over you both and settles in next to you with a heavy arm thrown over your belly to keep you close. His nose nudges your temple and he sighs, sounding so content that you fall for him all over again.  

A yawn takes you by surprise. “‘M tired, Javi.” 

“Mmm, I bet.” He presses a kiss just below your ear. “Take a nap, baby. Gonna need all the rest you can get.” 

You don’t remember falling asleep. There’s nothing in between the hazy memory of Javier burying his face in your neck and the growl of your stomach that wakes you. Every cell in your body thrums with an exhausted kind of satisfaction despite the protest of your empty stomach. Javier is still pressed against you, hasn’t moved an inch aside from the leg he’s hooked with yours. You let yourself savor his weight, his body heat, the steady rhythm of his breathing - until the hunger pangs get too annoying and you have no choice but to extricate yourself from his long limbs. It’s a slow process in your efforts not to wake him.

Your foot has just brushed the floor when Javier’s arms lock around your waist and he drags you back into the sheets. 

“Wh- Javi!” You wiggle around in his grasp in a half-hearted attempt to free yourself. You only stop when he nips at your shoulder, his sharp canines digging into your skin. “Ah, stop it!

“I’ll get it,” He grumbles as he kisses over the mark he left. “Whatever you want, I’ll get it. I’m not letting you out of this bed today.” 

“Oh?” You tease. “And how long do you plan on holding me hostage, Mr. Peña?” 

His hand smooths down your belly, palm pressed low between your hips. “Until it takes.”

[diamondcitydarlin]

Just fair warning- I said on my personal post about this that I wasn't going to talk about Neil Gaiman anymore, but as it's becoming clear that him and his publishers and anyone else who makes money off of him is circling the wagons and trying to bury these allegations, as well as some fans still defending and trying to 'rationalize' this information, I feel like, actually, we need to keep talking about him (as much as I cannot stand him and feel physically disgusted now when I so much as see his face somewhere). Specifically, the fact that he's a liar, master manipulator and should not, under any circumstances, be given access to his fans like he has in the past. At the very least. (And if you need to blacklist his name or even unfollow me so as to not be triggered, I completely understand, but I will always try to tag these posts accordingly and I think it's crucial right now that the truth be put where people can see)

This post specifically is in response to those 'rationalizations' I've seen, some that have gone as far as to blame the young fans/groupies that hooked up with him for being 'golddiggers' or just making a mountain out of a molehill for something they now regret. It's not that simple, yall. (And, again, this requires some amount of completely ignoring the story about him extorting his tenant for sex under threat of eviction of her and her three young children, I'm not sure how you 'rationalize' that under the best of circumstances)

So let's be clear here. What we know is that NG has routinely, for possibly an upwards of 30 years, pulled sexual 'partners' from his fan groups, most of whom are 18-22 year old young women (though possibly younger, accounts are coming forward of 16 year olds having allegedly been inappropriately touched/flirted/propositioned by him, which ig is the age of consent in the UK but still?? 16 year olds!!). This wasn't one or two times in the course of three decades, this was a constant pattern of behavior for him and for a very insidious reason.

This isn't to try to infantilize those fans or young women/young people in general or try to suggest that they couldn't have consented to sex with an older person or famous person. In fact, the onus isn't on them at all. This is about an older guy with a lot of fame, power and wealth choosing to sleep with people that he had already conditioned to idolize him and using that power imbalance to coerce them into doing things they didn't want to.

Regardless of one's age or gender identity, it can be difficult to impossible to say 'no' to someone like that. After all, you've been 'chosen' by the chosen one, you're special and not like everyone else, and if you don't do what the popular person everyone trusts is telling you to do you could end up ostracized. Alienated. Or worse. And you know what? Gaiman knew that! He knew it when he was crafting his 'approachable dad' persona on tumblr. He knew it when he was cultivating a fandom of personality. He knew it when he was having huge meetups to try to ensnare more victims. I hate to even think it, but I'm starting to believe he knew it when he was writing children's books too.

It's been talked about again and again in separate issues, but needless to say something not being strictly illegal does not make it inherently, morally okay. It does not erase the fact that this man has been essentially grooming his fandom to feel safe meeting/speaking with him so he can coerce those he can snare into sexual acts they're not comfortable with. That is predator behavior, whether strictly 'illegal' in the eyes of a court or not (but ofc I think he should be criminally punished even if I'm not naive enough to think he actually will be, because this IS rape and rape should be criminally punished)

I'm not personally advocating for anyone to give up being in his related fandoms, but what I am personally advocating for is that people don't forget who he is and what he's capable of, especially when he tries to crawl back to where he was (I'm almost certain he will eventually, as I've said).

Again, at the very least, we need to use what little influence we do have to keep him from infiltrating fan spaces again. He should not be on tumblr yukking it up with young people, he should not be at public appearances hitting on teenagers, he should not be given the unrestricted access to fans that he's 'enjoyed' for the past 30+ years because he is not a safe person. While I wish there was more in the way of restorative justice that could be done, I think at very, very least we should do what we can to limit his proximity to people he could hurt in the future. Make sure no one forgets, because sweeping this under the rug means Gaiman gets to hurt more people.

Lastly, no one is the wrong for having been manipulated by him. Let's make that very clear. What we're NOT gonna do is blame ourselves, each other, the victims, etc, for evil acts that Gaiman chose to do himself, time and time and time again. It doesn't help the situation and it certainly doesn't protect future potential victims. We were all duped because we're human and we attach and a lot of us want to believe there are good people out there, particularly those who make art that means so much to us.

And there are. But let's also use this a teaching/learning tool about how much faith we place in famous people in the future, regardless of how 'approachable' and 'safe' they might seem. Let's remember to have a healthy suspicion of creators/famous people that are oddly immersed in fandom spaces- yes, even the ones you still currently like that seem fine, as difficult as that may seem.

At the end of the day, we don't know them or what they're capable of doing or what they might be plotting to do to us. Support victims. Amplify their voices. Don't forget.

[livlaughloveluke]

DARK!LUKE CASTELLAN NSFW ALPHABET..

warning! this fic contains- a lot of nasty, dirty, dark nsfw headcannons, all varying, so read at your own risk. also a touch of angst and unrequited love? dark!dom!luke. afab/fem reader.

NOTE: this takes place after luke’s betrayal, and luke & reader don’t have an established relationship, it’s more of a sneaky link situation. reader is also definitely in love with luke. oki baii

personal note: i’m back!! kinda. just finishing drafts, so don’t expect me to post much more. sorry for making you guys wait a year 😭 i don’t even know if the luke fandom is still alive

A = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

even though his whole persona is this mean demigod who wouldn’t care about your feelings for more than a second, he’s not too shabby when it comes to aftercare. he likes to hold you until you fall asleep, and occasionally he’ll run a hot bath for you as a sort of apology for being so rough.

B = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

his favorite part of himself would have to be his muscles, specifically the ones on his arms. he loves how the veins pop out when he’s rutting into you relentlessly, grasping onto your hips to keep him stable. other than that, luke doesn’t look at himself often, partly because he doesn’t care and partly because it’s a reminder of what he’s been through, the choices he made. he’s more focused on you during sex, specifically the way your tits sway around, the perky nipple bouncing up and down. it’s hypnotizing, really. he can’t help but suck or grope on them from time to time, the tip hardening in his warm salvia.

C = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

surprisingly, he almost always pulls out and finishes somewhere else on your body. there’s just something so degrading about being drenched in cum that turns him on. it’s a nice reminder of who has control during sex.

D = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he’s had an embarrassing amount of wet dreams centered around you. hypnos must have blessed cursed him, because he can’t go a week without seeing you rutting against him in his dreams. if he wasn’t so ignorant, maybe he’d consider the possibility that he was in love with you, but he was never known for his bright ideas anyways.

E = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he’s well experienced. let’s say his body count is about 5, which is decent for his situation at camp. there’s very few girls of age, and even less straight ones. but i mean, he knows how to pull and charm girls into getting what he wants. he knows what he’s doing, how to make you squirm and beg.

F = favorite position (this goes without saying)

doggy, for sure. you’re his pillow princess, head always pushed down while mascara streams down your cheeks in black chunks. he’ll buy you the silk pillowcases, too, so it doesn’t mess up your hair. sometimes he’ll switch it up and go cowgirl, but don’t think that gives you control. he’s the one guiding your ass up and down on him, and he’s happy to manhandle you into a different position if you aren’t behaving.

G = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

not too serious, not too silly. he’ll crack a laugh every so often while you beg, or make a dumb comment about you getting desperate. although, he’s the only one who finds those funny.

H = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

not clean shaven to say the least. he’s got a decent amount of hair growing down there, but nothing unhygienic. he doesn’t mind it 🤷‍♀️

I = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

not big on intimacy. luke’s usually just down for a quick fuck and nothing more. although if he has time, he savors everything and it seems a little more romantic.

J = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he rarely jacks off, mainly because you’re always nearby and would get down on your knees with a snap of his fingers. sometimes he’ll make you masturbate in front of him to tease or see what you like, but that usually ends in him fucking you anyways.

K = kink (one or more of their kinks)

luke into a lot of shit. he loves to tease and deny your orgasms, to watch you beg for mercy as he pulls away completely. degrading words are also frequently thrown around in sex, although he never actually means any of the insults he spews out during the moment. bondage is iffy, but he likes to throw in some handcuffs here and there

L = location (favorite places to do the do)

his cali king bed on the yacht, your bed, the shower, basically anywhere he pleases. sometimes it’s in the privacy of his suite (although your moans can definitely be heard from outside), and sometimes it’s a quickie in the storage closet.

M = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

when you start training on the ship and sweat is beading on your forehead, your breaths shaky and muscles tense. he literally goes feral, like something primal in him snaps. don’t even get me started about when you lose a practice match and you get all bratty and snappy.

N = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

nothing really dirty like piss or vomit; it just grosses him out. as for other things, if you’re down to try something new, he is.

O = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he’s really big on oral, both receiving and giving. most of the time it’s you on your knees while he grips your hair and face fucks you, a mixture of precum and spit dribbling down your chin. he adores your beady eyes and how your eyelashes flutter as you take him down your throat. if he’s feeling nice, he’ll go down on you, messily licking and slurping your juices. and you bet he’s a fucking god at it, too.

P = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

luke’s definitely on the faster side, his thrusts quick and sharp. before he finishes though, he’ll switch it up to a slow and hard pace, every movement sloppier than the last.

Q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

oh he’s definitely down for a quick fuck. anytime, anyplace typa guy. you come up to him begging during training? he’ll fuck you in the equipment closet, metal banging around with every thrust. he has a meeting to attend to discuss his plans? he can multitask and make you suck him off in the shower.

R = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

absolutely. usually, he’ll pretend not to be interested as you slyly mention a new position or kink you want to try out. luke will brush it off, continuing on with his conversation like nothing happened. but when you get into bed later that night, he’ll initiate whatever idea you suggested earlier. just don’t mention it, or he won’t go so easy on you next time.

S = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

as long as he pleases, baby. it ranges, but it frequently consists of 3ish twelve minute rounds where he’s consistently fucking you. unless he decides to drag everything on and torture you, in which it’ll last a lot longer, although it’s mainly just teasing.

T = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he own a few vibrators for you and a pair of handcuffs in case you’re feeling bratty, but other than that he’s not really invested. if he can’t make you squirm with just his body, he’s doing something wrong.

U = unfair (how much they like to tease)

luke absolutely loves teasing you, for what feels like hours on end. it makes him grin when you beg, every plea from your lips going straight to his dick. especially in public, where he’ll run his hands up and down your thigh, drifting dangerously close to your core. he’ll whisper nasty things into your ear, knowing you won’t get to hook up until hours later. but could you blame him when you looked so sexy in that dress?

V = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he’s a grunter, loud and proud. although he definitely prefers your pretty sounds, he just can’t help letting out some noises of his own. contrary to popular belief, he rarely moans, unless he’s caught up in the moment and a few whines happen to slip.

W = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

when he’s feeling reallyyyy kinky, and if the moments right, he’ll pull out a knife during sex. he wouldn’t actually hurt you, at least nothing too serious, but he definitely teases it. luke will carefully drag the blade across your glossy skin, testing the limits as much as possible and watching your tense expression as he presses down every so often. you know he wouldn’t hurt you, but the look in his crazed eyes as he holds the dull side to your throat while pounding your insides tells you otherwise.

another completely different wildcard is that occasionally, he’ll stay up real late after sex, just staring at you and thinking. there’s something about your messy hair and puffy cheeks that captures his gaze for hours upon hours some nights. he knows you love him, he knows you wouldn’t put up with his bullshit if you didn’t care at least a little. and yet he still can’t find it in his heart to care for you. well, he can’t admit that he cares. he can’t admit that he makes sure you eat every day, he can’t admit that he leaves advil on his nightstand for when you sneak out in the early morning, and he sure as hell can’t admit that he knows all of your favorites inside and out. so instead, he’ll stay up all night and coddle you while pretending you’re just another warm body.

X = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

i mean…. he’s definitely packing. nothing insane, but a good 6-8in? he’s got a large build, so i wouldn’t be surprised.

Y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

holy shit, it’s pretty high!! i usually try to avoid unrealistic headcannons given to every character, but damnnnn this boy can go all night. he doesn’t usually, since he mostly uses all his energy for training, but even then, it’s still high.

Z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

if he’s not spending the night thinking of you (and questioning literally everything about himself) like i mentioned before, he’s out like a light. luke’s a busy guy and he gets sleepy, what can i say? he probably snores too, idk he just gives off that vibe.

[livingsurreal]

More thoughts and theories about our favorite Necromancer

My darlings, I have too many thoughts and my obsession is running wild. (How I missed you, hyperfocus). If you have read my last meta post about our Emmrich, here it is: First Meta Post

That is not a required read however. I am still wondering why anyone is reading my word vomit U_U

Anyway, I love reading other peoples theories, so please, send me yours. <3 And a lot of thanks and love for all you darlings who make this fandom such a beautiful and nice place. Especially to @jaal-ama-daravv - who makes the most beautiful videos, and writes such wonderful character studies.

Warning, from here on there will be spoilers as well as mentions of sex. If you don't want to read about any of that, do not read the rest.

Also pictures and way too many words. This is a ten page word document, save yourself while you can. I tend to go off on a tangent once I start writing. I am also well aware that not everyone will agree. This is just my personal read on Emmrich.

Now, after my first essay I have some more thoughts on Emmrich and Rook and specifically their intimate relationship.

Emmrich is such an interesting and baffling contradiction. On the one hand he is confident, self-assured, all manners and poise. He is smart, and he knows it. He has special gifts, and he knows it.  He is confident without being proud. He likes to teach others without being arrogant. He still likes to learn about new things and is, as far as I’ve seen, never judgmental about different beliefs and ways of life. (Unless someone treats him with disdain or bully him)

He is a man who is confident speaking of his thoughts and feelings and fears. How he just casually drops his thanatophobia is just astonishing. He is honest and open-minded in the best ways.

And then there is the other side of him. The wet kitten side of him. As open and honest as he is about his emotions, when we get to the meat of it, to the scary bit, the real feely bit, he locks up completely. As long as it is surface level (or he can pretend its surface level), everything is up for discussion. But once we reach deeper and touch *love* he gets so scared and refuses to admit and commit to his feelings. And as much *death* scares him, love scares him more.

So how does that influence his intimate relationship with Rook?

According to the banter with Lace “everyone knows about it”. He was rather surprised by that.

That tells us two things:

They were trying to be sneaky or at least keep their private business private.

They failed, massively.

Add to that Laces comment about them moving rather fast (when, where? I would have loved to have seen that. Comments like that just give me the feeling that we should have had some more cutscenes after the dinner date, to show us those two besotted fools).

But back to them moving rather fast. I would guess that they both did a lot of gazing lovingly at each other, blushing, spacing out while watching their darling, stollen kisses in the hallway when they thought no one was watching, stuff like that. Just being to besotted fools.

But moving fast usually includes sex. Lots of needy, sweaty sex. The inability to keep their hands of each other.

That moves us to the question of the day – did they have sex before their coffin time?

Let’s look at what we know about Emmrich. Emmrich is no virgin. That man has experience. He had past lovers. But what he tells us at that sweet diner date – “nothing serious for years.” We know not much else besides his crush on a boy in his youth and his fling with the Orlesian Art Lady. He is not someone to kiss and tell and that is appreciated. That man has class, and we love him for it.

So - nothing SERIOUS for years. If he hadn’t had ANY relationships in the past years, he would have said so. But what he says is that he did, in fact, have UNSERIOUS relationships in the last few years.

I would read that to be somewhere along the “fwb, lovers, affairs, paramours, companions, a fling, a little romance” line. Something not purely, but mainly physically driven. Someone you like and respect, you can go out and have a good time with, have lots of amazing sex with (b/c he is a living being and has his needs). Spending time with people he liked, was sexually attracted too, but nothing as serious as love. A physical relationship. A little thrill, some fluttering, but never that deep.

Not to say that those situationships would not have been romantic. He is (buried under all that resignation) a deeply romantic man. I am pretty sure he went on nice romantic dates with his previous paramours too. That this is something he just enjoys too much. Treating a companion with some quality time, not just in, but also out of the bedroom.

But after he’d given up on his dreams, he did not have any notion of those flings being more than a “enjoy the moment”. There was never the expectation of deeper feelings, beyond friendship, attraction and/or respect. All those romantic gestures were nothing more than a little bit of “play pretend”. To give himself the illusion of true romance, just for a little time.

Take the fact that you can go a “everything you do is creepy but I still flirt with you and I want you to throw me over that tombstone” and his comment on “the attraction of the forbidden”? This is not a relationship born of mutual respect and deeper feelings but out of purely physical attraction. And he is OK with that.

I want to repeat – Emmrich is very much okay with a casual, sexual affair. He does not require love to have a relationship with someone.

And then think about that Johanna calls Rook specifically his “paramour”. Which is a lover, especially an illicit one. This word was very specifically chosen by Johanna. For various reasons, I would think.

For one, I do believe that it is a dig at his dreams of the eternal flame. It’s a dig at him, that Rook is not his love, but his paramour. A lover for a time. To be parted from soon enough. B/c that silly dream of his, as if it ever would become reality.

Second, I think it is a comment on the way his relationships often went, especially in the past years. Those unserious flings of his. Never to amount to anything substantial.

Did he try to have something serious in the past? Oh yes, for sure. But it never worked out. Then he gave up his dream and just let himself have a good time with people he found to be nice and attractive.

To pick up my point of self-sabotage from my last meta post – I’ve come to a point where I believe Emmrich is a kind of chaser. I know someone like that and it’s so fucking tragic.

Emmrich feels deeply and strongly. When he falls in love with someone it’s a lot of emotion. But at that point it’s all dream, want, wish. As soon as someone returns these feelings - those dreams, wants and wishes become reality. And reality is scary. In this wishful dream about the eternal flame, there is no fear. No fights. No loss. But that is not reality. As soon as it becomes reality, he gets scared. Before, his feelings were no threat, because you can’t lose what you don’t have. Once those feelings are returned, there is a clear possibility of losing, of being lost, of being left behind.

Emmrich is not a chaser because he enjoys the hunt. He is a chaser because being loved by someone is scary. So damn scary. So, he starts to pick fights and is looking for excuses. From being the chaser, he becomes the chased. He is hunted by his fears, and his fight or flight instincts go all flight.

After years of this cycle he gives up. Resigns himself to flings and little romances without even thinking of more. Or so he thinks. Dreams like that don’t die, they just get buried.

And I’d think that there was not many, even of those short term flings, lately. His life revolves around work and Manfred.

Now remember he comments on Rook “showing unexpected interest in a new companion”.

First of all – unexpected.

They are a daring adventurer. He thinks of himself clearly as the more boring one, compared to Rook. He never expected any of those flirts. But he is clearly flattered.

Second – companion.

That was such a weird way of saying “hey do you like me?”. This whole “companion” thing does not scream “I have FEELZ for you/you have FEELZ for me” but rather, “I think you might want to spend some quality time with me”.

The possible answers - dashing good looks, kindness, his way of words.

He feels he is fortunate if Rook thinks him good looking. Hallo, Mr. Professor, sir… Have you looked in the mirror lately? Consider that he is meticulously grooming himself, takes his exercises daily in the morning. That man does not like himself aging. I think it is a reminder of how his pending death is a step closer every day. But it shows, to him, that his efforts of taking care of himself are not in vain. Or maybe it shows him that his age does not matter. Rook finds him attractive despite (or because) of his physical age.

Rooks comment on his very charming way of putting things makes him hope his years behind the lectern have proved useful. Hey *years* behind the lectern. Again, this is a way of saying his age is NOT a problem but a benefit.

If Rook remarks his kindness, he answers “you humble me”. It’s the one answer that does not touch his age/experience/looks. It’s a remark on an innate character trait he possesses. Kindness. His whole demeanor in this option shows he is actually touched. And maybe a bit baffled. He did not expect this, at all. Its like he sees his kindness not as an attractive trait. Which he should. He is nice without TM and its sexy as hell.

The next part is his statement “If your attentions go beyond charming flattery… that would interest me, indeed”. This reads to me not necessarily as “do you have feelings for me” but as “do you just enjoy the flirting, or do you want to do more than flirting?”

And oh boy, does he want to do more than flirting. I want to repeat my earlier statement – this man has given up on love. But some little fling with an exiting young adventure who was constantly, awkwardly flirting with him? Hell, yeah.

(I want to remind you that we were able to have mutually enjoyed flirts with Dorian as fem!Inky. You can flirt with someone and still never want to fuck them. And you are also perfectly able to want more than flirting without having deeper feelings. Like sweet, dump Shepaloo said it so eloquently “Lets bang, okay?”)

Again, I want to pick up a point of my last post, that this is all surface level thoughts. I do believe that their emotional attraction and depth of feelings go deeper, from the start. But how often does it take quite a bit of time to realize one’s own feelings. Especially this wonderful, silly man whose modus operandi is running away.

Now, an interested Rook can answer in an open “lets see where this goes” way. Mirroring his rather open idea of a little romance, a fling, some quality time. Something that does not have to end in an eternal flame, but a simple enjoyment and exploration of the moment.

Rook can also reply with a “I think they do.” – What Rook actually says is “I think they already…”

And conveniently Rooks answer here is cut short by our sweet boy Manfred. They get cut short, no matter what answer you choose, but in this specific case, I am convinced this was very much on purpose. What would the whole sentence have been?

“I think they already go way beyond flattery.” (?!?) Something along those lines. But that goes into danger zone. WAY into danger zone.

If Rook had finished that sentence, at that point in their budding romance? It would have been over before is all started. Too much, too soon. Too much for him, period.

Now we have the hard lock – their sweet romantic moment in the Memorial Gardens. And he is smitten. He fell hook, line, and sinker for his own play pretend. Just a little romance, but that man is falling, fast. (Not that he would admit that to himself).

A beautiful date, all arranged by Emmrich, to spend time with Rook. Because a couple should have a quite moment to get to know each other. I mean there were menu cards with gilded edges, ffs. And, oh yes, they were “lets dig into the feelings”, he said couple. He is falling, falling, falling fast. But it still hasn’t hit him, how deep he has fallen for his darling Rook. Poor Emmrich.

Then a fight, where we really see the wet kitten side of him for the first time. A little wet, feral kitten, hissing at the hand that’s trying to feed it.

Emmrich is lashing out for no good reason (or no good reason for anyone but himself). There is no real confidence there but a desperate act of pretending. An iron (slipping) grip, trying to control himself and the narrative. Shoulders squared, back straight, an arrogant stance, raised chin, turned half-away from Rook, and a condescending way of talking to Rook.

Like I said in my last post – he is working his way up to breaking up with them. And he tells himself it’s like ripping off a bandaid. Be strong and confident and say what you have to say, and they will see the wisdom of that.

It’s only that, they don’t. Because there IS NO wisdom in what he is doing right now. They don’t take his bullshit but throw it back at him. They don’t accept his mock excuses.

Look at him here, how he looks down ON them. I can’t recall any other time he looks down on Rook, despite him being a tall king.

Especially the route where Rook throws it in his face that he DOES in fact love them. Speak what he can’t even think.

“I can’t… At my…”

“I can’t love you. At my age…” Why not? Does he not deserve love, just because he is a bit older? It’s just heartbreaking how he views himself.

And again, he lashes out.

“I am perfectly serious.” So is Rook.

“One of us has to pay attention to these things.” As if Rook is not paying attention. They got to the meat and bones of his problem in just a few seconds.

No matter what route you go here, the gist is the same. He is scared shitless, treats Rook like a child, and goes on how the is the only one thinking the important thoughts.

When Rook in reality way ahead of him. They thought about it and came to the conclusion that being with Emmrich is a really good idea.

Rook knew they were falling for someone older than them. (Even if that age difference is just a decade, with a mid-40s Rook.) They knew it, and still went with it. They are not a child who is too inexperienced and stupid to make decisions about their (love) life.

But now, here, at this moment? Emmrich treats them with disdain. Like a silly little person, who does not think things through. He holds himself above them. Physically and mentally. They are too young, he knows better.

And not once has he done that before. He always treated them as an equal. He follows them into the most dangerous situations ffs. He trusts them with his life in a fight against would-be gods.

All that fear and anger at himself that reaches a new high get redirected at Rook.

The next day they are off to Tearstone Island. That night must have been hell. For both of them. But its going to get much much worse.

In any case, Emmrich seems to have come to some conclusion or realization, because on that island? He apologizes.

They both did react very emotionally, but he came at Rook with superiority and, to a certain degree, dishonesty. All fueled by his fear. So that he is the one to take the first step and apologize to Rook instead of doubling down? An important step. As I said in my last post – he NEEDED to be called out. A sweet and nice counterargument would not have had the impact Rooks raw an honest emotion hat on him.

Emmrich “Rook? Darling? I wanted to say-“

Rook “Yeah, about that argument…”

Emmrich “(Sighs) It’s no time to apologize, is it?”

And here we have the most heartbreaking line, in hindsight. “We’ll talk back home, Emmrich. I promise.”

(Narrator: but they would, in fact, not talk about it back home. Because someone would not go home.)

One fight and weeks of horror later, they find themselves in a private crypt and finally they do more than share a kiss.

Now - to the point I originally wanted to explore with this post – is this in fact their first time? (I am sorry, but my brain is a circle and nothing makes sense)

Let’s look at what evidence we have from the cut-scene.

Rook did not know he is an early riser.

That leaves two possibilities:

They never had sex up until that point.

They did have sex, but never spent the night together.

Now what does that mean?

This depends a lot on your personal Rook and how they feel about sex in general. If Rook wants to wait, or is not ready, he will absolutely accept and respect that.

But for the sake of this analysis lets go with the idea that Rook is not opposed to sex at an earlier date.

They never slept with each other

Why? He clearly was not opposed to casual relationships in the past. What would hold him back now? Especially if you recall Laces comment about them moving fast. Why not jump into the bedroom?

Now my first crack theory is that they get interrupted, like every time. (Rook interrupted The Dread Wolf, and now he cursed them to always be interrupted when they want to have some private time)

But now, in all seriousness, maybe it’s just that part of him DOES realize that this goes beyond a very unserious relationship. That they both have deeper feelings, that spark of something greater, something beautiful.

So, he holds back. He does not give his all. He is charming, he is flirty, he takes Rook on dates. But it’s all very technical. Very performative. Yes, he is a very romantic man, yes he enjoys those moments. But there is always a feeling of control.

Those moments when you see him let go a bit (that kiss beneath the eternal lovers, “I think, sometimes you indulge me”), are so beautiful and you glimpse a bit of the man behind those walls.

He has a tell, you see. (I am telling you about it further down)

But generally, he feels very much in control of himself. And to lie with Rook? To go all the way? Too dangerous. Who knows what happens in that sweet moment after la petit mort? What secrets would his lips spill?

2. They slept together, but did not spent the night together.

They do have sex, but sleep alone in their own beds. Casual sex is fine, but to fall asleep in each other’s arms? Too much. Too real. Sex okay, but sleepy post coitus cuddly? Woah, slow down your horses.

So, they have sex, preferably in Rooks bed. First, does he even have a bed? Second, it’s way easier to leave Rooks bed after the act, than throwing them out afterwards.

Oh, and how many reasons he has. Rook needs their uninterrupted sleep; they are stressed and must have proper rest. He wants to get some reading done before he retires. He needs to look after Manfred.

Oh, he is a bad liar, for sure. He is lying more to himself than to Rook. I would think that (if this is the build up to their fight) Rook realizes that he is giving poor excuses.

And the sex itself? A technical 10/10. He knows his anatomy, after all. But his heart is not really in it. He can’t allow himself to. He holds back, keeps a tight lid on his emotions. They both are well spent afterwards, but like so much else, it’s performative. Technically very well executed, but rarely do you see HIM, the real him, behind all that performance. Whenever something slips through, he reels back and closes up.

And then we are in that crypt. Rook was gone for weeks. The last thing they said that night before were words of anger. Rook called him out on his feelings and from that point on there was no possible way of lying to himself anymore. Those feelings were there. They were real. Rooks feelings were real. And those weeks spent in desperation, trying to  get them back? Those walls came crashing down.

His true face, when all the walls are gone? You see that face when Rook leads him to the coffin. There is no pretense anymore. No performance. Just him, and all his love for Rook. The amount of emotion the animation team packed into those short moments in the cutscene? Mindblowing. Who ever crafted that expression on his face? They are the GOAT. I watch this part of that scene on repeat, and it never gets old.

So, I told you about how he has a tell, yes? Okay, two actually, but we all know surprised pikachu Emmrich. In that last scene it is resolved in the most beautiful way.

He looks down, when something touches him deeply, when he goes into his feels.

A few (way to many) examples:

And the worst wet kitten look? After the fight, when Rook leaves.

Its a look of shame. Of hurt. This man is hurting so badly.

Now here at the end we have that moment when Rook leads him to the coffin. His face turns down, like before. But here he looks up at Rook. He does not turn his eyes away but looks directly at them. Ahhh my heart.

Now, think about the fact that ROOK is leading in that moment?

In those moments where Rook leads or startles him (or is simply annoying enough so that the truth slips out), you see the most emotion from him.

Rooks flirting startles him, and he has a pikachu face reaction every time.

Their first kiss? Rook leans against the monument, and leans up, telling him without words that NOW is the time for a kiss. How can he not go for a second kiss?

That moment when Rook calls Manfred “our son”? He very conveniently ignores the word “OUR” and goes in defense mode over the word “son”. But called out on his feelings for Manfred? How can he deny them? He has tears in his voice when he says how he would not exchange this moment for anything? A real, deep emotion.

In their fight Emmrich is again all technical, all performance, so logical (or what he sells himself as logic). But Rook wrestles that moment from him and takes lead, calls him out on his bullshit.

In the crypt Rook pulls him up into a kiss and then leads him to the coffin, guiding him, taking him with them.

Most of the other times he takes the lead, very much in control. But the most emotions you get from him, are those times Rooks leads, when he lets go of this tight control over himself, or he is startled in to a reaction. For all the age difference that is played up in their relationship, in the important moments Rook is the one who guides. And he follows where they lead.

Those little moans he makes? If they did have sex before, I bet he did not make those sounds then. Where they did have some incredible sex, now they are making love. Open, vulnerable. He gives in.

And then they fall asleep together. Skin to skin, arms and legs intertwined. Their hands caressing, no sound but that of their heartbeats and soft breaths. Pure and utter contentment. In that moment nothing exists but them. Can you imagine that moment he woke up? The amount of emotions he must have felt then? This need to speak those little words? Those huge little words. He does not say them, not yet. But he is almost ready.  

Finally, they stand there, on the battlefield of Elgar’nans madness. And he tells Rook. The last wall falls. Gives the most precious thing he can give to anyone.

“I love you.”

[r-eatyourfriends-n]

Collide | l.hs 이희승 | pt. 1

best friend!heesung x best friend!reader

READ PT2 HERE

warnings: smut (mdni), pwp (plot's there if you look hard enough), unprotected sex, cream pie, multiple orgasms, oral (f. receiving), overstimulation (sort of?), nipple play, heesung is cocky but only for a bit, no use of "y/n". It got sort of fluffy at the end?

synopsis: you've been having hookups for a while, but none of them have been memorable, much less good, so heesung decided you change that. Although his intentions might not be 100% pure.

wc: 5k.

a/n: this is by far not my first smut (it's literally all I write lol) but I've never posted for the enhypen fandom although I've been delusional about heesung and jake for a good while now. I have decided to break my silence. pls let me know if there are any mistakes and for sure let me know if you liked it! I actually quite enjoyed writing this as I began working on part two as soon as I finished. Also English is not my first language, I'm certain I revised this enough to avoid any grammar mistakes but thought I'd give y'all the heads up.

You arrived at Heesung's apartment late that night, just like you had warned him that you would. Given that your last date's place was near Heesung's, he had offered you to come over after your night out so that you didn't have to take a cab home. He said he'd be up playing anyway since it was a Friday night.

When you knocked, he had stood by his word. It took a few knocks and missed calls but eventually, the door opened, showing Heesung in a plain white tshirt and grey sweatpants. He welcomed you with a gentle smile, quiet as the noise rang through his headset. You nodded at him in acknowledgement and he took a step to the side to let you in.

As usual, you left your things on the couch. You signaled towards his bathroom and he nodded again, then left you alone to finish his game. You took a towel from his closet and one of his longer shirts and headed to the shower, head hanging low, letting the water run down your body when you stepped in, standing still under it, eyes closed.

Your date had been a mess.

The guy was nice; he held up to the bare minimum requirements of kindness and politeness, he payed for the bill even when you insisted for him to at least let you split it. Then he held your arm and guided you to his car like a true gentleman, where he took you to his house, layed you on his bed, and gave you the most boring, cunt-drying head and sex of your life. It felt criminal, really, that a man so handsome and well put together was such a boring and dull fuck. But there he had been, dirty blond hair parted to the side, stuck to his forehead as he sweat and heaved like a fucking pig white fucking into you, paying no mind to what you were feeling, only chasing his high.

Heesung, on the other hand, couldn't stop thinking about the look on your face when you stepped inside. Nor could he stop thinking about the marks that he hoped to god would be gone by morning, or your messy hair and out of place clothes, and the fact that you were willing to pull through with the plan of going to his apartment instead of staying with the guy. He picked you up, fucked you poorly (most likely), and couldn't even drive you somewhere else?

Ever since you became confident enough to put yourself out there, you've had quire the few hookups, which was unsurprising to Heesung. You were pretty, charming, and kind, and he saw those things every day. However, heesung wasn't stupid. He knew that at the end of the day, there was a good reason as to why men overall didn't have a good reputation during sex. And Heesung was someone who would love to show you a good time, but he didn't want to lose you over it.

He dreamed of it. Fantasized about it so many times— about all the ways in which he would fuck you, so good that no one else could even compare. To have you come back to him each time you even so much as think about trying to sleep with some other guy that isn't him. He'd give you the slow, teasing version of it first, taking his sweet time with each and every inch of skin until you were shaking just from the mere anticipation of feeling his cock push in, dragging out the pleasure in slow waves, praising you for enduring such intense feelings. Make you feel so good you'd cry.

If you wanted, Heesung could be rough, too. Bend you over every single piece of furniture of his apartment and yours. In his car as well, he would be lying if he said he never imagined putting you on your hands and knees on the backseat of his car whenever he picked you up from a party; have claw at the leather and leave your mark on it. Park somewhere dark and let you ride him on the driver's seat.

To be quite frank, it drove him crazy; to know that you were in his bathroom— naked in his house, and he couldn't just walk in and press you against the wall, ready to hold your weight when your knees begin to shake and buckle.

Heesung shook his thoughts away, going back to his game and trying to act normal. He unmuted himself to yell at Jake and Yeonjun, who were performing even worse than him. As they went quiet again, he heard the water stop and the bathroom door open. Your reflection appeared on his second monitor, your hair in somewhat of a low ponytail over your shoulder with a few strands on the front. Some parts of your body were clearly still damp, and his shirt stuck where there were still drops of water gathering on your skin. Heesung licked his lips, desperate to end the game and go to you, who layed comfortably on his bed, scrolling through your phone with a cold expression.

You sighed while you stared holes into Heesung's stiff back and shoulders. You showed up to his apartment knowing that he was going to be gaming with his friends, but a part of you still hoped that he would've dropped everything for like he had done sometimes, especially since today had been particularly frustrating. Still, you waited for him, just rather impatiently.

He didn't bother to say goodbye to his boys, he only turned off his computer and took his headphones off, rubbing at his red and sore ears. He turned on his chair and smiled.

“I'm done.”

“Did you win?” you said, raising an eyebrow.

Heesung shook his head. “I wasn't focusing.” He shrugged. “How bad was it?"

“How'd you know it was bad?"

“You're here, aren't you?” He chuckled.

Your shoulders dropped in defeat, quietly admitting your best friend was right. Heesung's eyes softened, displaying pity as your hands came up to rub your face, leaving a red trail of pure frustration.

“He was so handsome and sweet,” You groaned into your palms. “But he barely even kissed me, or touched me.”

He gritted his teeth, eyes landing on the small, purplish spots on your neck. “You're all marked up though,” he said, trying not to let his jealousy seep into his words.

“I practically had to beg him to do anything,” you admitted, embarassed that those words even came out of your mouth.

Begged?, Heesung thought, you had to beg a random guy to do what he had been dying to do to you? He scratched at the back of his neck.

“I don't know where you keep finding these scumbags.” He stood up, walking towards the bed to sit next to you.

“Maybe they're all scumbags and I should give up, because I didn't even get to finish.”

Heesung pressed his lips together, making a thin line. He tried to think about what to say next, but words were out of his mouth before he could consider all outcomes.

“Do you still want to?”

“Want to what?” you furrowed your eyebrows, confused.

“Come,” he responded, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Do you still want to come?”

Heat crept up your cheeks, your body beggining to deter from his gaze. Neither of you had ever been shy about discussing sex, or each other's sex lives—though he was much more reserved about it than you were—, but something in the atmosphere made you nervous. Something in his tone as the words came out of his mouth, something about heesung saying those words to you.

You huffed. “Well, who doesn't, right?”

His pupils were blown out in an instant. “Then let me help you.”

“Help me what?” you rolled your eyes at him, exasperated. Although he wasn't being as cryptic as you perceived him, you were just in a bad mood.

Heesung just shrugged. “Come,” he repeated, leaning closer to you. “Let me make you come.”

The whole world stopped for you, or at least that's what it felt like. Your face contorted, a thousand thoughts rushing through your mind.

Yes, it was your best friend, who you barely recognized at the moment. But you would be lying if you said his words didn't have an effect on you, his offer making you shiver. Still, you had some level of skepticism because again, he was your best friend.

“Stop playing, I'm not in the mood.” Was all you managed to push out, not feeling like being teased.

Unable to back down now —or not wanting to—, heesung took a deep breath.

“Do I look like I'm playing?”

You turn to face him, and looked for a hint, or even such as a glimpse of him being the teasing asshole that he had always been, however, he never faltered. If anything, he seemed impatient for an answer.

“I think you deserve to know what a good night feels like,” He continued.

“You think you're good?” You scoffed mockingly, already feeling your body heating up at his promises. A good night? Yes, you were in desperate need of one of those. It was nothing Heesung wasn't already aware of.

“I know I am,” he smirked.

His confidence set off something inside of you. If it turned out that he was all talk, then, you'll be damned, because god, did he know how to talk. Not only using his words, but also his whole body, as he leaned foward to press his face closer to yours. Had he always been like this or were you just noticing?

For the time you had known Heesung, you never knew him for one to sleep and mess around. He was a flirt, sure, he loved to lean in during parties to make the women around him flustered. More often than not, he would brush past them with a hand on their waist and watched as they blushed, but despite his good looks and undeniable charisma, you've never heard about him constantly hooking up, nor doing it often like you did.

Regardless, wether it was seldom or not, Heesung fucked. It was a fact, even if it seemed like he was too busy gaming and working, he had managed to fit some fun time in his packed schedule of work hours and consoles. You couldn't deny you've heard about him, given that he had unknowingly slept with two of your coworkers. It wasn't something you told him, and until this very day, he was still unaware of the fact.

But you were very aware of what had been said about him, because you heard them discuss in great detail about how good the sex had been. They had talked about everything, from the size of his cock to how he knew how to eat out a woman—and how good he looked doing it—, how many times they came and what not. It had been weird to hear about how good your best friend was in bed, but you still grew curious, dying to know if the rumours were true, and if he was the well built roman sex god they made him out to be.

He was your best friend, yes (how many times had you said it already?). Still, you weren't blind nor stupid, you could see how gorgeous he was, how hot he looked, having been flustered by him one too many times. Certain feelings harvested in you that you had pushed to the side, thinking that you would bully them away by telling yourself than a friend who just so happened to be stupidly handsome. And you had managed quite well, that until today, with Heesung infront of you, willing to give you what you wanted.

Would the sex outweigh any possible bad outcomes that may come from hooking up with the person you trust the most? Only time would tell.

“Okay,” you whispered, feeling shy under his impatient gaze.

He reached out his hand, softly cupping your chin. His thumb caressed your jawline.

“I'll be gentle.”

Your brows furrowed. “I'm not a virgin, Heesung.”

“Do you need to be a virgin for that?” He laughed, dumbfounded by your words. “Just lay back and let me make you feel good.”

Promises, promises, promises. “Are you all talk or do I have to beg you too?”

Heesung smirked. “Don't give me ideas.”

Any hesitation any of you might have still had vanished the minute your lips pressed together. Heesung moved slowly, almost forcing you to follow his lead and you obliged, sighing into the kiss. You held his nape to pull him closer, it was the only thing he let you do. He allowed you to guide him on top of you, and you spread your legs so that he could settle himself between them to kiss you deeper.

His tongue pushed against yours without a warning and you whimpered. Just the kissing had your heart threatening to shoot a hole into your chest from the inside out. Heesung had inviting lips for sure, but god, did he know how to use them.

You were desperate to have him touch you but still whined and protested when his mouth began to make its way down, stopping by your neck first, biting just below your jawline. Your hands trembled, trying to find something to hold on to until you figured the best thing to sink your nails into were his shoulders.

Heesung loved it, to know his skin would welcome anything your body gave. So mesmerized by the way you reacted to his touches, so receptive and sensitive to him. He couldn't believe it yet, that he had you on his bed, kissing you breathless.

Your back arched into him when he sucked on the skin, making sure to leave more visibly, longer lasting marks over the ones you already had. He watched as your skin became stained with a darker purple, his cock throbbing at the sight; at the thought of seeing you on his clothes, your body littered in his marks.

He raised your shirt over your breasts. You reached for the hem of the shirt to pull it over your head to give him more space to do what he wanted more comfortably. He stopped you immediately, though.

“I wanna fuck you in my shirt,” he confessed, trying not to show his desperation.

His words almost were enough to make you moan, and you realised you weren't turned off by the idea of being owned in some way, especially if it was Heesung who did. Or perhaps you were just incredibly horny, and he had started to play with one of your nipples between his fingers, the other one going into his mouth.

With your hand gripping his head tightly, you pushed him towards your chest. He swirled his tongue around the bud in acknowledgement of your actions, which made you buck your hips up in an attempt to get some sort of friction. You could feel your panties sticking to your skin, was it normal to be this wet just from kissing?

It was probably how it should have been with your date, or with any of the other guys you had slept with. But only you had managed to get yourself to that state, alone in your room with your fingers, and now Heesung with his skilled mouth licking and swirling his tongue around your hardened nipples, his hips pressed against your cunt to keep you from squirming or pressing your legs together. You took the opportunity to grind yourself against him, feeling the outline of his already hard cock on your shorts. The whine he let out was long and needy.

“Heesung,” you moaned, nudging at his shoulder to push him away. “More.”

Heesung's knees buckled at your pleads.

“Beg a little more, baby.” He instructed. He pressed a soft kiss between your breasts, where a drop of sweat had begun to roll down. “Say my name again.”

Heesung found himself hypnotized by the way you moaned out his name. The way you tried to shove him down to get him to go between your legs just made him want to tease you more.

“heesung please, please, fuck—,” you babbled. “God, stop teasing me.”

“No god here, just me,” Heesung smirked at you.

Thankfully, what you said had been enough. He made his way down slowly, ghosting his hands over your waist as he directed his kisses from your abdomen until his lips met the hem of your shorts. He pushed them to the side and stared at your white panties now turned transparent from the wetness. And he almost couldn't believe it was for him. A bunch of thoughts passed through his mind that he didn't dare to voice; how he had wanted this for so long, how he was hoping you would come to your senses and realize how much better he was than all the other guys you had gone out with. How he hoped this would absolutely ruin you, and make you feel like you will never find something out there that could compete. The thought of this possibly being a one time thing, and that you could run off to some other douchebag was nauseating.

He offered himself up expecting that, by the end of the night, he'll own you.

It wasn't something that he wanted to keep thinking about. All he wanted was to hear more of your pretty sounds. You gasped when he yanked down your shorts, leaving on your underwear just to mess with you and make you desperate for him. He glided his thumb over your cunt, occasionally putting pressure on your clit but never quite staying there. Your legs and hips twitched, your pathetic attempt to guide his finger. Loud moans and whines kept pouring from your lips as you tried to get him where you wanted.

“Have any of those assholes ever gone down on you?” he asked, sort of absent.

Had they? You weren't really sure. Sometimes they would kiss between your legs, a few licks here and there before they pushed their cock in, but never like what your friends have told you it was like. Jealousy burbled in your stomach whenever you heard them talk about it— the unimaginable pleasure, the look on the man's face he ate them out like his life depended on it. You have had a glimpse, a very bad one, but you had almost felt what it was like. However, at the end of the day, it was mostly you on your knees with your mouth stuffed.

Ultimately, you decided to tell him exactly that. “Yeah, but not really. It's usually me who does.”

Heesung clicked his tongue, completely displeased by your answer. It pissed him off, sort of, at least enough to pull your panties down and finally beginning to live up to his promise. He flicked the tip of his tongue over your clit, to which your body immediately reacted, forcing a whimper out of you.

His hands forced your legs open as far as they would go, taking full control, leaving you defenseless under his relentless mouth and tongue. Same tongue he pushed inside you, thrusting it into your hole, feeling you squeeze him. The way your walls tightened around his tongue turned him impatient, dying to get that same feeling on his cock. But you were his priority right now, and he would have time to feel you soon enough.

The orgasm that you had been longing for since you accepted your date felt closer than ever, with heesung's nose hitting your clit, and his tongue moving inside you. He then reached up to suck on your clit that kept getting more and more swollen the more his lips would close around it, rolling his tongue over it. As he kept playing with it, he teased his finger on your entrance, gathering your slick on it and sliding it in with little to no effort, your body welcoming him instantly. He found himself stretching you further in no time, slowly pushing in a second finger and curling both of them.

“Feel good baby?” he mumbled. It was uncommon for him to ask those types of questions, since he would rather have girls show him. But from you, he wanted to hear it, he needed to hear it.

The question almost sounded stupid in your ears.

“So fucking good,” you breathed out. “So fucking close.”

All of the rumours were true, and Heesung absolutely looked hot pleasuring a woman, smiling to himself, looking drunk and fucked out just from it, his only goal to have you finish thanks to him. He was good, exactly like he said he was, making your eyes roll back, a thing you had only thought possible in porn, and just by using his mouth. And he still had yet to fuck you.

The pace of his fingers and tongue quickened, your moans got louder along with it. Edging you was something he considered, feeling you so close, having the power to just stop all at once and leave you hanging.

Your orgasm came crashing down on you before he could make a decision, and fuck if it wasn't one of the hottest things he had ever witnessed; how your back arched and your feet lift off of the bed as the highest peak of pleasure you had ever felt invaded your body in waves, body convulsing onto his hand in time with the loud, borderline screams of his name. It had gotten to the point you had to kick at his shoulders for him to pull away, sensations quickly turning painful.

If that's how you were gonna feel on his cock, he was certain that he was not going to last long.

“Shit, Heesung, that was—”

"I'm not done with you, sweetheart,” he interrupted. “I barely just started.” He chuckled, begging to pull down his sweatpants, revealing the wet patch of precum on his underwear. “Look what you did to me.”

Your eyes never stopped following his hands as he hooked his fingers om his boxers to finally free his cock from being smothered by the fabric, standing proudly against his abdomen, heavy. Something in your stomach fluttered with a twisted exciment of what was about to happen, especially when he wrapped his hand around it to stroke it slowly, almost teasing himself.

And you let him, watching him try to relieve himself; his mouth open, panting, so focused on aliviating his arousal that he almost forgot you were there. That until both of your eyes met, the atmosphere in the room getting heavier by the minute

Heesung stopped moving his hand. “Come spit on it, baby,” he instructed. “Get it ready.”

A breath got stuck in your throat at his words. That hadn't been the nastiest thing you heard, you had been said and called way worse. But the way he look and sounded while he made his request, knelt in front of you, hair out of place and lips dark pink and glossy from eating you out made him look and sound so utterly dirty, so much so that your body reacted way before you did, already crawling to him before he could finish that sentence fully.

You looked straight into his eyes as you opened your moth, a long string of saliva falling from your tongue in slow motion until it met the head of his cock. He looked right back at you as he spread it across his length. Heesung muttered curse after curse as you laid back down, and was quick to settle himself between your legs once more.

His tip pressed against your entrance, and you felt the stretch almost immediately, hissing and putting your hand on stomach as a reflex. He held your wrist gently, used his grip to pull your hand up to his face, pressing a soft kiss on your palm. His eyes fluttered shut as your warm skin came into contact with his lips. And when you moved to cup his cheek, he leaned into the touch instantly. You began to tease his bottom lip, running your thumb over it, and as he sunk himself even further, he caught it between his teeth, gently grazing them against your semilong nails, until he finally closed his mouth around it. He hummed.

It took Heesung a while to bottom out inside you, and you moaned and whined all the way through it; from the pain of being stretched open and from the pleasure of being stretched open. He moaned as well, as his hips met your pelvis, with your walls fluttering around his cock. His thoughts were going at a thousand miles, all of them screaming at him to really, really fuck you into the mattress. But he stayed put for the sake of your enjoyment, he had promised you a good night and he was going to drag it out as much as he could for your and his enjoyment.

Still with your thumb between his lips, he began to slowly move his hips, barely pulling out before pushing back in to get you used to his girth. You gripped his bicep with your free hand, scratching down on his skin until the sting started to dissipate. You took notice of the way he held his breath as the speed began to increase, moaning and groaning when you squeezed him in.

It was dizzying, how you felt him everywhere. In your hand, with his moans vibrating on your palm; inside you as he dragged his cock, barely managing to pull out an inch before diving back in, pressing himself against you as much as he could so that he was fully settled inside your walls. Due to his cocky attitude, you didn't take him for the type of guy to be vocal. But there he was, whining louder and louder, almost uncontrollably, and that only turned you on more. The fact that you, too, were making him feel good and he was not afraid to show it.

You weren't usually this pliant and submissive, preferring to put up a little bit of a fight, managing to make guys submit to you instead as you took the lead. With Heesung, though, it was different, whether it was because was mesmerizing or because you had never felt such heightened pleasure, it was clear that he had control from the moment he got closer to you before he made his offer. And you could take control, probably, but you didn't want to. You wanted Heesung to do the work, to prove himself.

Which he was, taking on a pleasurable rhythm that had you moaning louder than him. One of his hands found the plush of your hips and gripped onto it for leverage to angle himself. The other one traveled from your chest all the way down to your clit, rubbing messy circles with his thumb, making you throw your head back into the pillows, along with a cry of his name.

The echo of his skin hitting against yours fueled him. Heesung didn't know where he should be looking at, if at your beautifully contorted face, with your eyes closed shut and your lips parted, or down, to where a white ring of your slick began to sorround the base of his cock each time he pulled out, noises growing increasingly wetter.

“You're driving me fucking insane,” he grunted.

There was no response from you, only whines of pleasure as you neared your second release. His thumb circled faster, not too hard, but enough to send all of your senses into overdrive, encouraging you to reach your climax, dying to know if you'd feel as good on his cock as you did on his fingers. And although he was dying to kiss you, he held back his urges just to see your face as you came, with your legs closing around his waist, your body slightly convulsing off the bed. It was nothing short of delightful.

You attempted to catch your breath, but heesung didn't give you time to process your intense orgasm as he flipped you onto your stomach. He pressed your cheek into the mattress and accommodated your lower half as he pleased. You were barely able to hold your ass up in the air for him, your knees weak as he entered you again. Only then did you register that you had come twice already, but had yet to see or feel a single drop from him.

“You are fucking insane,” you groaned, teary eyed.

He chuckled, movements coming to a halt. “I made you come twice and you still complain? Tsk. Greedy.” He dug his nails into your hips, making you wince. “Sorry you're tired, but it's my turn now.”

With that, his thrusts resumed, opting for a quicker, rougher pace than before, clearly turning a bit more selfish and now after his own release. The new position allowed him to reach deeper, making you press yourself back onto him to meet him halfway, chasing the sensation despite the pang of pain from having orgasmed so recently.

Heesung leaned down to bite onto your shoulder, in the pace where his tshirt wouldn't cover, making sure to engrave his teeth into your skin, hoping the next man you tried to sleep with would be turned off by the markings. He let go when you complained, kissing and licking onto it instead, whispering more soft apologies, although both of you knew that he wasn't sorry at all.

After a while his thrusts became more erratic, losing any pacing he tried to maintain. The grip on your hips was bruising, but you thought you wouldn't have it any other way.

“Touch yourself for me,” he commanded in between his moans.

You reached down between your body and the matress, struggling to reach your clit as Heesung's thrusts moved and pressed you against the sheets. Your motions were slow and light despite the harsh snapping of heesung's hips, slowly building up the pressure in your lower stomach until any discomfort you felt was gone, your fingers now matching his speed, mindless of the way your cunt tightened around him almost painfully.

He didn't stop nor slow down, not even as he came. Loud moans spilled from his lips, attempting to drag out his release as much as he could. And you followed soon after, body giving out under heesung to lay flat onto the bed, breathing heavily. He spread your legs carefully to not miss the way his cum oozed out of you, dripping down onto your folds. You turned your head back as best as you could, and through the mess of hair on your face, you still caught the way he smiled to himself as he watched.

“This is video worthy,” Heesung murmured, dragging his fingers up your cunt to fuck his cum back into you. “You're gonna make me hard again.”

You squirmed away from him, kicking at his sides. “Stop it,” you whined, then whined again as he pulled his fingers out languidly, the sight so painfully naughty it almost made you ask him to fuck you again. However, you were too tired to even hold yourself up.

Heesung's whole demeanour changed, and he was back to being just him; playful and soft spoken. “Sorry,” he chuckled, the only time it sounded like he actually meant it. He hovered over you, moving your hair to place gentle kisses on the nape of your neck.

It made you sigh, muscles finally relaxing, and your hearbeat now back to normal. Or sort of normal.

For the sake of the moment, you tried not to think about anything; about the fact that you just had the most intense and amazing sex with your best friend, no other. And you had to admit that you were kind of sad about the fact that it was over, and that it was probably gonna be a one time thing to protect the friendship. So you allowed yourself to be held by him, pushing any and all thoughts to the back of your mind.

“You're beautiful, you know?” he whispered against your skin.

He was making it way too hard.

“Not so bad yourself,” you mumbled jokingly. Heesung was fucking beautiful, too. “M'gonna fall asleep if you keep doing that.”

“Sleep, then,” he smiled.

“Thank you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“The dick, and the kisses.”

Heesung couldn't help but laugh, a loud but oddly comforting sound as you began to drift off.

“Anytime.”

[gffa]

*bungee jumping down the arcane fic rabbit hole* got any fic recs?

Save that bungee rope, we're going to need it to get the next person down here, too. And I do have a few recs I've enjoyed! (If you guys have any fics you want to rec that you've enjoyed in this fandom, I'm all ears. I'm still trying to navigate my way through the absolutely massive amounts and my usual method of finding authors I recognize from other fandoms is failing me because APPARENTLY WE HAVE WORK TO DO TO MAKE YOU ALL COME DOWN HERE WITH US.) JAYVIK RECS: (Current brainrot extraordinaire.) ✦ Begin Again by egg_thief, jayce/viktor, nsfw, post-canon, 3.3k or: Jayce and Viktor’s existence continues, somewhere out in the cosmos ✦ not to me, not if it's you by brewstersbru, jayce/viktor, post-canon, 2k They were supposed to die, then, a better ending than Viktor expected. Far sweeter than he deserved. Jayce’s hand warm and broad against his neck, foreheads tipped together, breaths fanning over skin. It was neat. It was nice. And then he woke up, splayed in a field, draped in the tatters of Jayce’s blanket. A groan rose from his left, then some pitiful shuffling before a final, loud thump, accompanied by a slight warble. ✦ the sun is an apricot promise by chicandcheesy, jayce/viktor, post-canon, 5.4k Six months after they destroy the Hexcore, Jayce and Viktor try to settle into a new life as friends. Partners. Turns out they love each other a little too much. ✦ The Softer the Skin, the Sharper the Teeth by ticketytockety, jayce/viktor, nsfw, spoilers, 5.4k During his time trapped in a devastated, apocalyptic world that does not belong to him, Jayce manages a temporary escape to somewhere else. Sometime else. ✦ The butterflies we feel by writin, jayce/viktor, time travel, 8.6k wip It was only right to offer Jayce one last thing: himself. A fleeting moment of shameless intimacy. There was no past, no future — only them, and everything they were willing to give. One final gift, for both of them. Or; S2 Jayce meets S1 Viktor, but there are consequences.

ZAUNDADS RECS: (Don't judge me, the artbook t-boned me with feelings, it's not my fault!) ✦ patience by orphan_account, zander/silco, nsfw, 7.6k He’s been dead five years when he shows up at The Drop unannounced. Vander can't be sure if this makes an already bad week better, or worse.

TIMEBOMB RECS: (This one also side-swiped me out of nowhere, officer, it's not my fault, either!) ✦ better to be poorly accompanied than to be alone by ajstyling, ekko/jinx, post-canon, 2.9k A long time ago, Ekko made a promise. Now he just hopes Jinx will give him the chance to keep it. ✦ the cycle of lonely creatures by red_dragon_rising, ekko/jinx & caitlyn/vi, post-canon, 7.4k So it happens that Caitlyn is now hiding Piltover’s most wanted terrorist and the murderer of her mother inside her ancestral home. So it happens that she’s become a traitor to her city. So it happens, because the girl is Vi’s sister. (AU: Vi dies with Warwick) ✦ pluto by zippe, ekko/jinx & vi, post-canon, 4.2k Ekko and Jinx, time after time

[incaseyouart]

thank all the gods in the world jayvik isn't canon

Oooooh ohohoh, what a way to jumpstart my day! I could have just ignored this and deleted it, or written something like "lol sucks to be wrong", BUT, instead, I am delighting in a lengthy response as I sip my coffee, whether you read it or not. Because y'know what, Jayvik isn't just a ship to me; these two characters represent a bond that *literally* redefines a universe. So many people look to their fictional relationship as a hopeful guide for their own real situations, and I'm not gonna let some cowardly anon dismiss it. I didn't survive the Klance trenches to just ignore this.

Also, I'm an aethiest, so I neither thank nor blame any Gods.

First of all, have you seen this show? Have you truly watched it? Or did you just consume it shallowly, only once, not taking in any of its deeper meanings? Have you absorbed the level of compassion and love these two fictional men hold for each other? If one of these two had been a woman, perhaps you wouldn't have visited my blog and left this little gift, anon. I mean, I don't want to assume, but you haven't given me much to go on.

MANY creators contributed to this beautiful fandom, launching thousands of pieces of cosplay (notably BBN0$), fanart, fanfic (it ballooned on A03 after S02). Pinktea_san on Twitter made this timeline:

Have you watched any of the BTS of the voice actors? Harry Lloyd (VA for Viktor) gives a beautifully crafted answer about whether or not Jayce and Viktor are platonic.

Oh yeah, Harry also freakin signed one of the top kudos'd Jayvik fics. Pretty big win for the author!

Here also is Jayce's VA signing a beautiful piece of fanart:

Do you know the ending is left open for interpretation, but a largely agreed-upon ending for Jayce and Viktor is that they're happily existing in companionship somewhere, in a little cottage by a stream, with their four children, baking each other cupcakes?

Christian Linke actually signed an iconic Jayvik meme~

There's actually a whole Twitter thread here: "jayvik being supported by arcane staff (and other silly details in the series) — an endless thread"

There was also a gallery event at Gallery Nucleus wherein merch was sold (screened by Fortiche and Riot), including Jayvik-themed stickers:

I think at this point, dear anon, you've either left or blocked me lol, but I will conclude this essay with this piece from Amanda Overton, a writer, co-producer and executive story-writer:

I want to highlight this line: "Oh, well maybe there is hope [for] these guys to have some future beyond what the show intended."

All this to say: the show's ending is LEFT OPEN FOR INTERPRETATION. Your comment catalyzed me to spend my limited free time compiling these lil fandom-bits (flashbacks to composing scientific papers, oh man), because I truly believe Jayvik is a powerful and beautiful ship, in one of the healthiest fandoms I've ever been in. It's canon to a lot of people, including the freakin staff of the show, and it's canon to me. I won't force the ship on anyone, and if you want to think it's not canon, freakin' go ahead I guess. It's a goddamn multiverse of options. At this point, this response is for me, and anyone else who finds beauty in Jayvik.

Jayvik Nation, never die.

[kendallroydefender]

Blood & Honey (Jax Teller x Reader) Part 1

Summary: When you take a teaching job in the quiet town of Charming, the last thing you expect is to cross paths with Jax Teller - outlaw, single father, and the leader behind the town's most infamous motorcycle club.

Authorsnote: thank you all for welcoming me so kindly into this fandom 🩷 this story is not completely following the original plot (Tara left him and they don’t have a child together - also Opie didn’t die (yet))

”Goodbye Mrs. Henderson.“

You said, watching as the woman closed the door to your classroom. Letting out a relieved breath.

You had started teaching at Charming elementary a month ago and your Headmaster thought it was important that you met the parents of your students as early as possible. So you had scheduled a parent teacher meeting for this evening.

You looked at the paper, Abel Teller was next. You had met his Grandmother before when she dropped him off at school. And she had been really nice to you, so you exhaled relieved that the next and last conversation was going to be light. It was clear that she loved her grandson and spent a lot of time with him.

You were flipping through the boys file when a knock was heard on the door before it was opened.

You looked up with a smile, expecting to see the dark haired woman. What you didn’t expect was the blonde man that walked into the room. He was wearing a white Shirt, black leather Kutte, denim jeans, white sneakers. You couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was.

”Oh, hello.“ you said a little taken aback. ”I don’t think we’ve met yet?“ you said stupidly

”Hey,“ he chuckled a little ”No, we haven’t. I’m Abel’s Dad.“

”Oh, yeah, of course.“ you said.

”Jax Teller.“ he said he introduced himself, before you offered your name.

You had heard of him before of course. No one could live in Charming and not hear of Jax Teller. Leader of the Sons, the infamous Motorcycle Club. But you hadn’t seen him until now. And all the stories about him somehow left out how handsome he was. And your were not prepared for that.

”Sit please.“ you made a gesture towards the chair on the opposite of your table.

Jax sank down in the chair in front of you, with a relaxed confidence.

”So, how’s Abel doin‘? Hope doesn’t already got a record.“ he said nodding towards the file in front of you.

”No, no,“ you smiled, letting out a nervous chuckle

”Abel’s great, he’s very bright, kind too.“

A proud smile made its way onto his face

”Yeah?“

You nodded.

”Yeah, he talks about you a lot.“ you told him

Jax eyes snapped up to yours again

”That so?“

”Mhm, he tells me about riding with his dad, the garage, you’re some kind of superhero to him.“ you told him before adding

”He looks up to you.“

Jax didn’t say anything for a moment. Something flickered behind his eyes as you said this, something heavy.

”Uhm, tough he does seem distracted sometimes, like his mind is somewhere else.“

Jax nodded, letting out an exhale.

”Kid‘s seen a lot.“

You thought so. You had been told that there had been some dangerous situations the Sons had found themselves in. As well as complicated family history you heard bits about.

”Well, if there’s something I can do to help him you can always come in.“

”Thank you, appreciate it, Darlin‘.“

Darling? Jesus.

You felt heat creep up your neck at the petname.

”I just want to make sure he has everything he needs to succeed.“ you said trying to calm your heartbeat again.

You two looked at each other for a moment, this definitely wasn’t how you felt talking to Mrs. Henderson or any other parent.

To remain the rest of your professionalism you looked into your students file once again before looking into the blue eyes from the man before you again.

”Well I think that covers it.“ you said.

”Do you have any questions?“ you added a moment later.

”Nah, no questions.“ the blond said before adding

”Just good to know my boy’s got a teacher who gives a damn.“

You looked up at him and genuine smile on your face, happy that someone acknowledged your trying.

”I do. Thank you. He’s a great kid.“

”Well, I don’t want to keep you for too long..“ you trailed off.

”You got somewhere to be?“ he asked with a grin but some curiosity in his voice.

”No, don’t think my houseplants will miss me too much.“

No boyfriend, was what Jax noted.

”This your last meeting?“ he asked as he stood.

”Yeah,“ you nodded, closing the file before getting up yourself to put it back in the drawer.

He nodded.

”I‘ll walk you out then.“ he said and waited for you at the door as you took you bag and gave him a little smile.

”You’re new here.“ Jax stated, walking next to you.

”Moved here a bit more than three months ago.“ you answered.

”What made you choose Charming?“ he asked.

”They were desperately looking for a new teacher and I was desperately looking for a new job.“ you told him.

He chuckled.

”Well, it was nice meetin‘ you, darlin‘. Good to know that Abel’s in good hands.“

”It was nice to meet you, too, Mr. Teller. I’ll try my best.“

He smirked at you then saying

”Jax.“

”Mr. Teller.“ you said with a smile

His smirk turned into a grin

”Goodbye Miss y/l/n.“ he said with a wink before walking over to where his bike was parked.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You had seen Jax a few times after that day. He had dropped off his son some mornings. Always sending you a smile and a wink that made your stomach flip for reasons you’d rather not think too much about. He was incredibly handsome and very charming, yes, but there was something else to him. Something you couldn’t explain, something that made you curious about the man. A pull between you.

But you hadn’t talked since then. That would change at the end-of-summer fest the school had organized. Every class had prepared a little performance.

You hurried in right as the lights went down, leaning against the wall in the back.

As the first group of kids performed a little theatrical number you let your eyes look over the back of parents.

That was when you saw it. The black leather Kutte, with the logo of the sons. The blonde hair. Jax. He looked a little out of place. His leather and rough edges between the polished parents in their flower dresses.

When Abel’s class went on stage though? You could see his whole stance change, he sat up a little straighter, hands now resting on his knees instead of being crossed over his chest. It was so clear how much he loved that little boy and you couldn’t help the smile on your face.

When the whole thing was over Jax waited until the crowd had thinned before he made his way over to you, hands in his pockets.

”Hey Teach.“ he grinned at you

”Hi, Mr. Teller.“ you said

”Jax.“ he said with a smirk.

”Mr. Teller.“ you said but you couldn’t help the smile on your face.

”Think my kid nailed it?“ he asked

”He did great.“ you told him with a nod.

You two talked for a while afterward, about the preparation for the fest, about Abel.

Gemma standing a little off watched you two interact curiously.

There was a easiness to the way you acted around each other, a familiarity even though that was only your second conversation.

The way you laughed at what her son said, the way the grinned at you.

'Interesting‘ she thought. Tara had left again almost half a year ago and for Gemma this was the perfect opportunity for Jax to get completely over her.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was the day of the yearly fundraiser Gemma organized for the school district. Your school was of course involved in that. You had volunteered to help out with a booth and had been assigned the can throwing stand. There had been a bit of a mix up, leading to them not having a second person for it.

”Jax, I forgot tellin‘ you but a booth needed another volunteer and I told them you’d do it.“ Gemma told Jax with a smirk he couldn’t read.

”You’re kiddin‘?“

”No, Jackson. It’s the can throwing one. They’re waitin‘ on you.“ she slapped a hand on his back.

Jax made his way over to the direction his mother had pointed in. Already regretting showing up. He just wanted to check in with Gemma and Abel, now he was stuck playing carnival worker.

But he stopped in his tracks when he saw who the other person working the stand was. You were setting up the cans, not having seen him yet.

He turned around towards Gemma who watched him with raised eyebrows. He laughed a little shaking his head.

”Guess you’ll have to make do with me today.“

You turned around at the sound of that familiar voice. Of course it’s him. You should have known when Gemma told you she had someone to help out.

”Well, that’s a surprise.“ you smiled

”You any good at this?“

He asked, stepping closer, hands in his pockets as he nodded towards the stack of cans.

”I’d say I’m decent.“ you said, taking a ball, turning it from hand to hand before you tossed it at him.

He caught it easily.

”Think you can keep up, Teller?“

”Darlin‘, I grew up throwing punches, this ain’t a challenge.“ smirk tugging at his lips

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head.

”Well this job requires a little more charm than muscle. Think you can handle that?“

He leaned against the booth, watching you for a moment.

”Guess we’ll have to find out.“

Before you could answer him your first customer was standing at the booth. A little boy, maybe eight years old.

”Hey there, wanna play?“ you asked him

The kid nodded, before you handed him the balls.

Jax crouched down next to the kid

”Alright, buddy, give us your best shot.“

”Hey, Jax? Can you give me that ball?“ you asked absentmindedly, filling the little crate that held the balls.

His hand paused while reaching for the ball, head tilting slightly, his lips twitched into a smile

”What was that?“

You frowned, confused

”What?“ you asked

”Nothin‘.“ he shook his head, still smirking, handing you the ball.

And that’s when you realized. You had said Jax. Not Mr. Teller. But you found that you didn’t regretted the slip up. Not the slightest bit.

The afternoon had been surprisingly fun. You and Jax had fallen into an easy rhythm. The lighthearted banter between you two never really stopped. You could feel that pull again between you.

Then a familiar voice called out

”Dad!“

You looked up just as Abel ran toward the booth, a smile on his face. His tiny hands clutched a half eaten cotton candy, his fingers already sticky.

Jax crouched down, resting a steady hand on Abel's back. "Hey, buddy. Havin' fun?"

Abel nodded enthusiastically, taking another bite of his cotton candy. His eyes flicked up to you, "Hello Miss Y/N!"

You smiled warmly. "Hey, Abel! Looks like you're having fun"

He nodded again, then turned to Jax. "Are you winnin', Daddy?"

Jax chuckled, ruffling his son's hair. "Just helpin' people win prizes."

Abel turned back to you. "Did my dad get in trouble?"

You laughed. "No, he's actually being very helpful." You glanced at Jax with a teasing glint in your eyes. "Surprisingly."

Jax smirked. "Told you I could charm my way through this."

Jax grabbed a napkin from the booth and cleaned him up, mumbling something about "sticky little hands." It was a simple moment, but something about it made your chest feel warm.

The way Jax looked at Abel, so full of love and devotion, was enough to make your heart clench.

You had always known Jax was Abel's father. It was the reason you’ve met Jax in the first place. You'd heard the way Abel talked about him in class, the excitement whenever his dad picked him up.

But seeing it in person - watching Jax be so soft with him, so completely wrapped up in this little boy - made it feel different. More real.

Jax must've caught you watching because when he looked back up, his smirk softened into something else. Something unreadable.

You quickly cleared your throat, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Well, Abel, do you wanna try knocking down some cans?"

Abel nodding exited again. Jax handed him a ball, adjusting his tiny grip. "Alright, buddy, give it your best shot."

You stepped back, watching as the little boy aimed carefully before tossing the ball with all his might. The cans toppled over, and Abel cheered, throwing his arms up in victory.

Jax scooped him up effortlessly, pressing a quick kiss to his hair. "That's my boy."

And just like that, something deep in your stomach twisted. Because you were in trouble, serious trouble.

You liked Jax Teller.

In the evening after clearing the booth

”Wanna watch the fireworks?“ Jax asked putting the cans in a cardboard box.

”Yeah, sure.“ you nodded.

Jax closed the flaps of the last box ”Come, let’s get a good spot.“

You followed him to a spot a bit further from the crowd that had gathered around the stage where a band played. Walking through the crowd, Jax hand found the small of your back, guiding you, his touch light but present.

”This good?“ he asked and you nodded.

The fireworks started, casting color over the dark sky. You stood close, probably too close, but neither of you moved away. His arm brushed against yours, followed by a slow glance exchanged.

You turned to him for a second, he was already looking at you. Neither of you spoke but the pull was there, undeniably.

You turned away, looking at the sky again.

And you thought how this is different. This is not some Dad helping at a school event. It’s something.

Meanwhile Jax had similar thought. Yeah, you were beautiful he had seen that the first time he met you and there had been an itch to get to know you better. But there was an air about you that he liked, you were talking to him normally. Not with judgement about who he was and also not with obvious want because of his role in the MC, like the croweaters.

He walked you tour car again at the end of the day.

”Guess I’ll see you around, teach.“ he said, his voice softer.

”Yeah, I guess so.“

He lingered a second longer, looking like he was debating something.

”Drive safe.“ he said finally, stepping away.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You had been sitting at your kitchen table sorting this weeks classes when your phone ringed.

'Jax Teller'

The display said, making you frown a little. You had exchanged numbers at the charity event last week but neither of you had made the jump to call or even text the other yet.

”Hello?“ you said after you had picked up

”Hey, I have to ask you for a favor.“

Oh.

”Oh, okay? What is it?“ you asked a little confused, not knowing what to expect.

”I got somethin' important to take care of tonight, and my mom's tied up. I don't like askin' for favors, but..."

”You want me to look after him?“

”Yeah, you already know each other and I trust you with him.“

You were silent for a beat before you could say something he spoke again.

”I wouldn’t ask if there was anyone else.“

”Sure, I’ll babysit him. When do you need me?“

”Thank you. I can drop him off in 20?“

”Okay, yeah.“

Exactly twenty minutes later your doorbell rang. You dried your hands off on a kitchen towel, having done the dishes.

Opening the door, you found Jax standing there, Abel at his side, little backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Hey," Jax said, giving you a small mod.

"Hey," you echoed, looking down at Abel with a warm smile. "Hey, buddy."

Abel gave you a little wave.

"You sure this is okay? I know it's last minute."

"Jax, it's fine," you reassured him. "We'll have fun, won't we, Abel?"

Jax exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Alright. He already ate, but there's snacks in his bag. Shouldn't be any trouble."

”He never is trouble at school.“ you smiled at the little boy.

He nodded, then stood, looking at you again. "I owe you for this."

"You don't."

He tilted his head slightly, studying you for a second before nodding. "I'll be back later to get him."

"We'll be here."

For a beat, he didn't move, eyes lingering on you in a way that made your breath catch. Then he exhaled, giving Abel's head a quick ruffle before stepping away.

Looking after Abel was easy. You played a game you had found somewhere in your house.

When it got late you watched a movie and the little boy fell asleep on the couch. You had pulled a comforter over him and turned the volume down.

Around eleven there was a knock at your door.

”Come in.“ you walked with him to the kitchen ”Do you want something to drink? A coffee? Water?“

”A water, please.“

You filled a glass, your fingers brushed as you handed it to him.

”Thanks, darlin‘“ he said but his voice sounded exhausted, missing the usual teasing tone.

You hesitated for a moment before asking ”Are you okay?“

He let out a breath ”I don’t know how to answer this.“

You nodded understandingly.

”You don’t have to.“

He studied you, his gaze intense.

”Abel had some ice cream, I hope that’s okay?“ you changed the topic.

A small smile appeared on his face ”Yeah. Of course. Was everything okay?“

You nodded ”Yeah, he’s great.“

He was quiet for a moment, contemplating something.

”You know about his birth?“ he asked unsure of how much town gossip you had heard.

You shook your head, no.

”He was premature. Had a lot of medical issues, open stomach, heart issues.“ Jax shook his head

”Doctors thought he wouldn’t survive. Guess he proved them wrong.“

”Oh wow, that must have been hard.“

”Hardest thing I’ve ever been through.“

After a beat he spoke again

”I keep thinkin‘… what if he had a regular dad?“

”Jax-“ you started

”Nah, I mean it.“ he cut in ”Some guy with a nine to five. Someone who won’t leave in the night to handle club shit.“

You watched him for a moment taking in the weight of his words

”You love him.“

He looked at you

”That’s what’s matters. That’s what makes you a good dad. He doesn’t need a regular dad, just you.“

He looked at you for a moment like he wanted to believe you

”You don’t know half of it.“ he said then shaking his head.

”I don’t know how much you’ve been told about… me. But Abel was kidnapped when he was a toddler.“

Kidnapped? Your breath caught in your throat as his words sank in.

Jax wasn't looking at you now. He was looking down at his hands, fingers laced together, knuckles white. Like he was holding himself together.

"It was my fault," he said after a long moment, his voice quieter than before. "The club, the life I lead… it put a target on him.

And I wasn't there when they took him."

You couldn't even begin to imagine what that must have felt like.

"What happened?" you asked gently.

Jax exhaled slowly, rubbing his hand over his jaw like he was trying to work through how much to say.

"He was taken by the Irish. Some bullshit power play against the MC president back then." His jaw clenched.

"I had to go to Belfast to get him back. Thought I'd never see him again."

Your stomach twisted. You knew Jax Teller came with some struggles but hearing this was something else entirely. You could see it in in the distant look in his eyes that this wasn't something he really ever talked about. You should pull away from him, from his life and everything that came from him. But looking at him now, knuckles white from how tightly he was gripping the counter top, you couldn’t make yourself pull away.

"But you did," you said softly. "You got him back."

Jax let out a breath, but it was shaky.

"Yeah. I did." He nodded slightly, like he was reminding himself of that. Then he finally looked at you again, something raw in his expression.

For a second, you weren't sure what to say.

What could you say? There were no words to erase what he'd been through, no easy reassurance to take away the weight of it.

So you did the only thing you could. You reached out, taking his hand in yours.

Jax looked down at your fingers laced together, his thumb brushing absently over your skin.

"You love that boy more than anything," you told him, squeezing his hand. "That's what matters. That's what makes you a good dad, Jax. Not the club. Not the past. Just you."

He swallowed hard, nodding once.

Jax finished his glass.

”I should probably let you get some sleep.“ he said. You followed him to your living room, the kid still asleep wrapped up on your couch. For a moment you leaned against the doorframe watching Jax making his way over to his son. The way he stood over him for a moment, looking at him.

He picked up a sleeping Abel in his arms, the small boy stirring slightly but not waking up completely as he curled his arms around his fathers neck.

”Thank you, again.“ he said with a nod

”Anytime.“ you smiled.

He lingered a little longer at the door, then he turned and walked with Abel towards the car he had arrived with. You stayed at the door, watching him open the car door, carefully settling his son into the seat. He glanced back at the door for a moment again, you gave him a short wave and then he was gone.

[colorlessjay]

Okay, I'm fairly new/back into the fandom (once upon a time I saw a few series but had noone to freak out about it and I didn't seek the internet for same minded people, so I see myself as an old fan but new to the fandom? Maybe? But that's irrelevant! To what I wanted to say!)

I love your story ideas and your fan art and the time exchange comic you do.

What are your thoughts about Destiel and Angst? Of course with a happy ending but angst nonetheless.

For example, maybe something like this:

It's a hunt gone wrong or maybe a hunt accident, either way Cas dies and it's Dean's flaut. Maybe the hunt was not going according to the plan, maybe it was a whole mind fuckery thing from start to finish. The monster messed with Deans head till he saw enemies in his friends and someone to trust in his enemy. Or it was a good hunt, an easy hunt till Dean gets to the finishing blow and rather than hitting the monster it strikes Castiel.

Either way it happens Castiel dies in Dean's arms. They wait for Cas to wake up again, he is an angel of the lord (more or less) how could It really have killed him? But Castiel doesn't wake up or come back to him in any way. Time passes and Sam gently tells Dean that they should bury Castiel, he deserves the last respect. Dean is furious because he still believes Cas is coming back but in the end Castiel gets a hunter burial with all the respect the two of them can give him.

Then it starts. Dean is still grieving. But he tries to function somehow. I imagine Dean to be an self-destructive mourner if noone is around. He functions in the company of Sam and or Bobby but as soon as he is alone he drinks till he feels numb. He doesn't take care of himself really well, like talking a shower only then Sam say him to do it or forgets to eat if Sam doesn't remind him, it doesn't matter what he eats he can't taste it anyway. He also doesn't sleep well, everytime he sleeps he dreams of Castiel. Castiel holding him, Castiel promising him he is not dead and then he wakes up and breaks down even before he has his first morning coffee.

It's in one of his alone moments that it first happens. Dean drinks out of his beer bottle then Castiel speaks up. "Dean, maybe you should at least eat something before drinking this much alcohol." Dean stops, that sounded like Castiel. But he is dead,is it a hallucination? Is Dean losing his mind? "Shut up. You aren't even real what do you care. " And just as he wants to drink again from the bottle the bottle shatters in his hands. Dean is unharmed but freaking out. He looks around, heart beating violently in his chest. There in the corner of his room is something. It kinda looks like hot air glimmering but in the shape of a being, a bit human, a bit something more that his mind can't quite understand. Obviously Dean freaks out. Goes all salt throwing at the possible Castiel ghost. But it has no effect. Castiel talks him back from his panic attack/freak out session. The next morning Castiel is still there and a lot more visible for Dean. Still unnerved by it he asks Sam and others if they can see Castiel. Noone else can see Castiel and Sam worries more about his brother. But Castiel in the meantime promises dean that he is not dead. He is somewhere unable to return to them but he is not dead. Dean clings towards this promise as if his life depends on it. Not dead!Castiel starts to take care of dean. While Dean looks frantically for an explanation or something, while Sam tries to get Dean to talk with someone, anyone about the lost and how he is feeling and stuff. Dean doesn't want to, Claims he doesn't need it. They fight, Sam is worried and angry and afraid of/for(?) Dean and in the heat of the moment Sam accuses him of having a mental breakdown and the not dead!Castiel is just his imagination trying to comfort him or something like that. Dean denies it. Later he begs not dead!Castiel to prove that dean is not losing his mind. The next time Sam tries to talk to Dean he walks into a whole poltergeist/haunted show, flying objects and banging cabinet doors and stuff. Sam maybe freaks out. Dean asks Castiel to stop. not dead Castiel stops. And sam start to believe that this is maybe more than his grieving brother. He starts to help in a way Dean appreciate way more.

In the end they find out what really happens to Castiel and how to get him back. And as soon Castiel is back and alive and unharmed Dean climbs him like a koala and doesn't want to let go. There are tears and feelings and a kiss. And together they work on deans mental health. Also Castiel promises that this will never happen again just to calm Deans worries.

They get their happy end.

Sooooo..... Thoughts?

My dude, this is comedy central

I appreciate you, I do

But I am not your partner in this

[aromanceforthedragonages]

A Romance for the Ages: A Dragon Age Gift Exchange Signup Walkthrough

Signups are open! Here is a guide on how to sign up for the A Romance for the Ages: A Dragon Age Gift Exchange.

You MUST have an AO3 account to participate. If you need one, please reach out. I have several invitations I can give out.

To start your Signup, go to the Collection Page during the signup period and click on "Signup Form".

Requests

We start the signups with what you'd like to receive as a gift. After a general explanation about how the signups work (please read this first), you will get to the form itself. You must fill out at least TWO requests (each request must have 1 pairing listed- this allows for better matching). Each "request form" allows up to 5 separate relationships. List as many pairings you'd like.

Pairings can be platonic, romantic, multipairing, etc.

The form above is what it looks like when you scroll to the first request. (I filled one out as a sample for you to look at). You MUST choose a fandom (at least one, all fours games are listed separate for easier pairing) and then go down to relationships. You must choose what pairings you might want a gift of. I am not allowing an "Any Relationship" option since there are too many in the game to choose from. That will make things complicated for the gifter.

Please be as descriptive as possible about your DNWs and triggers. They cannot be enforced if they are not explicitly stated.

You can choose to receive fanart, fanfiction, or both. But you must click at least one.

Links: Links are for letters, prompt ideas, more detailed DNWs, information or tags for your custom characters and ship dynamics. Feel free to link your Tumblr, a Google Docs folder, or anything else you think is necessary.

Offers

For your offers, this is where you will choose what YOU will be GIVING. This helps the mods and AO3 match you to someone that you will be happy creating for. You must list at least two different pairings to be matched well. If you click "Any Relationship" in your offers, you are saying that you will make something for ANYTHING. Platonic, romantic or anything in between. Please be careful with using that option. If you truly do not like a pairing, please list the ones you do want to create for instead of using "Any Relationship."

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-Open to Treats: Yes/No

-Open to Treat types: Fanart/Fanfiction

-Open to Multi-recip treats: Yes/No

[sharkylass]

ALRIGHT IN STARS AND TIME FANDOM, I'M BOUT TO HIT YOU WITH MY TAKE ON THE BELOVED SISTER!!

Those who don't want to get spoiled about little details about Bonnie's sister (or the game at all for that matter- There's spoilers for Act 3 and 4 in here so YOU'VE BEEN WARNED)

SAY HELLO TO PETRONILLE!! Or how I am going to call her, Nil. I've seen a few people do their take on her, and I wanted to join in!

@insertdisc5 I am sorry in advance if you have a vision for her, especially if it is WILDLY different to mine-

KEEP IN MIND, I AM GOING TO BE RANTING A LOT, IVE HAD THIS IN THE MAKING FOR A WHILE, THERE'S MORE ART, SO SKIP AHEAD IF YOU'D LIKE

First thing's first! I tried to figure out what she would look like in the original style. I didn't want to overly detail her with my normal style, and I wanted her to somewhat fit in with the rest. Bonnie was clearly the strongest inspiration , she has their eyes, the black hair, white thing around their head to bring attention to her face- That's also why she has lip piercings! To bring more attention to her face (and due to Bonnie's earring type, I assumed piercings can exist in the world)

Her ear has 3 earrings, that was not intentional, I just thought it was cool. I like to think they perceive those as "regular" earrings, and even if a person wears bonding earrings, they can also wear more normal earrings.

I just had the image of her not really having a short range weapon, so maybe it's time for someone with a semi-long range weapon to join the team! In my head Nil seemed to be the type to like getting dirty with her hands, so a rope seemed fitting somehow.

Also- She is paper type! I liked the idea of her looking like such a rock type, but being paper. I considered making her dual type, but since those are rare, I didn't want to get ahead of myself. Admittedly, that does make the party a little overloaded with paper types, so if she was to be in a game with balancing, I'd probably change her to rock or something. BUT AS A CHARACTER THING- she remains paper.

(EDIT: I was just reminded of the huge hammer she broke a wall with, so that is ABSOLUTELY a valid replacement weapon for her. If she was rock type that would be her weapon for sure. Altho it IS funny to imagine she broke the wall and swore off heavy weapons for life. I like to think thats what happened with my take on Nil)

Mechanically I think she wouldn't be too dissimular to Isabeau, but instead of boosting the party, she debuffs the enemy. Particularly slowing them down, and lowing defense. Alternatively, I can see her being a second healer of sorts, but while Mira is good at healing everyone, Nil is good at healing a single person and giving them a boost (just things she learned to take care of Bon). I do see her attack not being that high tho, probably lower then Mira.

ALRIGHT, TIME FOR MORE ART

Her dynamics with everyone:

Bonnie:

I like to think Bonnie got their spunky attitude from somewhere. So I like to think Nil is very playful with them, even if she is looking out for them. Bonnie clearly knows the difference between lighthearted serious, and SERIOUS serious. They also seem to revel in compliments, so I like to imagine they are used to receiving them from their sister!

Nil is the most serious around Bonnie tho. As their sole caretaker, she's trying her best to keep them out of trouble while teaching them and letting them grow at a normal pace.

However, when she's with the adults- I described it like- Around Bonnie she can be serious and a voice of reason. When she's with adults tho she herself becomes the Bonnie, so to speak. She's loud and a bit hot-headed.

Mirabelle:

I swear I saw Insertdisc mention that Mira and Nil would have a bit of a rivalry going on AND I'M SO HERE FOR IT-

The two of them are those siblings that fight constantly, but the moment someone else gives either of them shit, the other will go for the jugular. They mainly try to compete for Bon's affection and who's the better sister, and they get a bit... blindsighted. Nil usually doesn't go out of her way to spoil Bonnie I don't think, I think she tries to be reasonable with them where she can. However with Mira in the picture it becomes- a little hard... Nil doesn't like the thought that she's being replaced

However, if either of them needs it, the other will be there. Nil provides Mira with a strong shoulder to lean on, and Mira provides an emotional yet reasonable approach to the situation bothering Nil.

Odile:

I like to think at first Nil didn't really get along with Odile. Supposedly Nil has a bad relationship with her parents, so I imagine her seeing someone who's a parent aged adult who holds seemingly more authority- It would... Unnerve her for a little while.

Odile will probably give her something to do, and Nil would refuse, because who is Odile to be ordering her around?? You know. Like a child. But with time they get used to the dynamic, Nil grows to respect Odile at the very least, and Odile picks up on the fact Nil seems to respond positively to positive reinforcement from her.

Having someone close, to break that pre build idea in Nil's head with positivity, despite Odile being strict and struggling to show affection- It would do her a lot of good, and Nil will eventually thank her, and apologize for being so rough to her in the beginning.

Isabeau:

Isa and Nil are actually very similar- I did not mean for it, but I hope they don't end up being TOO similar.

They are both loud, love to laugh and take care of those they love. Even their hobbies are a bit more similar then everyone else. Nil likes gardening, and taking care of things, and Isa likes to create clothes. Both of them are in a way creating something. Nil making sure what she's taking care of grows to be big and strong, and Isa is more literal-

Where they differ is in smarts partly. Isa is clearly very book smart. I think Nil would turn to him if she had a general question about something (and later on Odile once she gets used to her). She completely encourages him to show more of what he knows.

They also differ in their buffness slightly. While Isa is still the beefiest on the team, he did it with the intention, he trained. Meanwhile I think Nil just likes the field work so she's constantly outside doing heavy dirty work.

I like to think that after being unfrozen, Nil's clothes were roughed up and she didn't really think to or have the time to fix it. So I imagine Isa saw the roughed up state of her pants and gloves, and made her some himself, Which she treasures but GOD she is not used to receiving anything from anyone, LET ALONE gifts.

They also similarly hide their insecurities under bavado. Isa hides his smarts to be liked, and Nil hides her fears so she can be brave. I'll go more into detail when I get to Nil's own section. (I SWEAR I didn't mean for Isa's section to be so long I PROMISE-)

Siffrin:

These two don't do a lot of talking I'd imagine. While Nil is used to being loud, I think she'd get used to the silence around Sif and simply enjoy the quiet.

A lot of the ideas I had with those two were very touch focused. I assume Nil struggles with touch because of potential childhood related traumas, and not being warned sends her into a fight or flight. While Sif is deeply unused to it but craves it.

I still imagine Nil isn't an inherently NOT touchy person- I mean. Bon's the touchiest little guy out there. So maybe she knows how to warn people of when she's about to touch them, AND she is more used to asking for hugs and affection. So after she learns that Sif struggles asking and being startled, she became the person that would encourage them and tell them how to do it. In every single drawing where they're touching just know that either she warned them or they asked for that touch.

Also Nil is a very grounding reminder for Sif that he's not in the loops anymore. So if they get a particular scare, like they were woken up wrong, they had a rough sleep, smelled a banana, remembered the king- anything involving going back- Nil serves as a reminder that they're here, with everyone, in the present. No going back. So that, combined with their touch therapy, it results in him being particularly physically clingy with her. She squeezes their hand ocassionally. It's a grounding reminder.

Nil is also UNBELIEVABLY THANKFUL for Sif, once she learns about how they lost their eye. The fact Sif went out of their way to protect HER little sibling- It means the world to her, and she wouldn't wish it on Sif one bit. She probably holds guilt that she couldn't take the hit for both of them, Bonnie is her responsibility! They probably end up having a conversation similar to Sif telling Mira "Do you think she was wrong? To save you?" She doesn't know about the end of act 3

AAAAAND NIL HERSELF!

A lot of this is already information I mentioned. Her being a paper type, her liking bugs, being traumatized, startled by touch- But I drew these beforehand, so!

I imagine Nil ran away young, cause Bonnie doesn't remember her running from their parents. What happened in there, I do not know and I don't think I'm capable of imagining. It might not even be as dramatic as I illustrated it. But either way, she grew up being the sole caretaker of Bonnie. I'm sure Vaugardians were kind and that they didn't have to struggle too hard for food or a place, or to get Bonnie into a school- But Nil still wanted to learn how to be self sufficient, how to provide in case something happens. It might be why they live in Bambouche honestly, Nil learned how to grow plants and being close to the sea is good for catching a lot of fish! ...It was also at the edge of Vaugarde. Probably the edges where the King's curse reached slower.

She likes getting her hands dirty and working outside, so I imagine she's a bit sunburnt! If only on her shoulders and cheeks.

Growing up alone, self sufficient- She probably had to grow a bit fast (even if she indulges in childish things with Bonbon). She quickly started repressing all fears, all questions of her decision to run away. I imagine she's actually insecure in her abilities, how Bon deserves more capable people in their life, how she doesn't really know anything and how she literally got frozen and Bonnie had to fend for themselves- After Bon comes back, she's so filled with admiration and adoration for her little sibling. They really went to the ends of the earth and saved the world. What a brave little sibling she has.

The new family kind of... Feels like a threat to her title as sister at the start. All 5 of them saved a country. The people Bonnie met are strong, knowledgeable, been all over the world- She's glad they protect Bonnie. She just wishes she had something to offer. It takes her a little while to realize they are also there for her too.

I was ranting to a friend, and I am pretty sure we know Nil would like to travel after everything. Being able to explore her more child like fantasies, with the safety blanket that is the family- It means a lot to her. She gets to truly indulge in living and letting loose and depending on people for the first time in her life.

Afterwards tho... I like to imagine she would settle down. It takes a while, but she likes having a place to call her own. And so we talked about how she would probably have a ranch of some sort. I like to imagine she'd love having horses. A way for her to remain free spirited, while taking care of creatures and having the security of a place to rest at the end of the day. And if she chooses, she can go wherever she wants with those bad boys!

My friend mentioned they might have goats or sheep or chicken, and I'm all aboard for that too. I'm not settled on the idea of a farm life for her, but I like it.

Also if I dare pull a Dreaming One for a second- Bonnie and Sif are like little siblings to her, Mira is like a twin (or relatively same aged), Isa is like an older brother, and Odile the everlasting grandma.

ALRIGHT THAT TOOK A WHILE-

Sorry, I started drawing her for fun and just started BRAINROTTING about her out of nowhere.

I still have little doodle ideas but this was already getting so lengthy so I am going to leave it here, and maybe return another day.

I just deeply wanted to establish Nil as her own character who can fit within the group's dynamic and belong in the family. While she very much IS Bonnie's sister and that's such a big part of her, I wanted to expand her a little further.

If you took the time to read, THANK YOU. I HOPE YOU LIKE HER, AND THAT YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL REST OF YOUR DAY

P.S. IF YOU DRAW OR WRITE WITH HER I BEG YOU TO TAG ME

[captainsophiestark]

Picture Perfect

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Benedict's childhood best friend, who he's recently started courting, notices he's been a bit off lately and decides to see if there's anything she can do to help.

Word Count: 3,045

Category: Fluff, a little bit of Angst

A/N: It's been a minute since I rewatched season 2, so I may have the timing wrong a bit. For the purposes of this fic, though, Benedict finds out that Anthony paid to make sure he got into art school at the same time that they're all at the Bridgerton's country estate.

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Something was wrong with my best friend.

I could tell from the minute I saw him, as his mind was clearly somewhere else. He also gave his brother Anthony a colder shoulder than usual, which I knew Anthony likely deserved, but that Benedict rarely gave him. It must've been something pretty bad.

A few years ago, I wouldn't have hesitated to drag Benedict somewhere and get some answers out of him, followed by doing whatever I could to cheer him up. But unfortunately for the both of us, despite having grown up together, now that we were both adults in society and he had recently started courting me, we were no longer technically allowed to be alone together. Things were usually a bit looser when it was just the Bridgertons and I, but while I'd joined them for a trip to their country estate, another family had joined us as well, tying my hands more than usual.

Still, I managed to corner him slightly away from the rest of the group after dinner that night, when I'd first noticed something off. He'd been on his way upstairs, rather than joining the rest of us in the parlor after dinner, and I managed to get in front of him quickly enough to make him stop in the hallway.

"Benedict," I said, trying to keep my voice low. He let out a long, deep sigh, but didn't move to step past me, instead fixing me with a tired stare. I frowned. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "It's... nothing."

I put my hands on my hips and raised an eyebrow.

"Benedict Bridgerton, I have known you since the age of five. There is no chance of that terrible lie convincing me of anything, besides perhaps that I made the right decision about checking on you."

He sighed again, this time even heavier, and when he met my gaze again it was with an empty smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"You remeber I shared my excitement with you about being accepted into art school?"

"Of course! Don't tell me something went wrong..."

He shook his head. "The opposite. Apparently my dear brother took it upon himself to make sure I got in, offering a bribe to secure my acceptance. Yet again, I fail to step out of my family's shadow and generate an accomplishment of my own, without their name and money securing it for me."

I frowned and reached out to touch his arm, but Eloise's voice from the other room promising to find where I'd wandered off to broke the moment. Benedict mustered that hollow smile again, then finally stepped around me.

"I'll be fine, I promise. Don't worry about me. Just go enjoy the rest of your evening."

I frowned after him, but he didn't look back as he climbed the stairs and disappeared onto the second floor. I briefly debated following him, but Eloise's hand on my elbow broke me from that thought.

"Y/N, what on earth are you doing out here? You're missing Kate and Anthony sparring over something trivial again."

I forced a smile onto my face that was hopefully more convincing than Benedict's and turned to face Eloise.

"Well, that's certainly something I don't want to miss. Let's go."

Eloise still looked like she had questions, but I didn't give her room to ask them as I joined the rest of our group in the parlor. Benedict stayed on my mind for the rest of the night, although I tried to hide my worry. Hopefully he'd been right about himself, and would be feeling better in the morning.

*****************

Benedict clearly wasn't feeling better in the morning. I was witnessing the man I loved having an existential crisis, and by the afternoon, I decided I couldn't sit by an watch anymore, society and the Ton and the gossips be damned.

I spent the next hour gathering and setting up the things I'd need, then went to find Benedict. He wasn't anywhere to be seen in the house, so I asked Eloise, who directed me to his bedroom.

I'd been in his bedroom before, of course, since we'd practically grown up together. But now that we'd started on the path to being something else to each other, with my heart registsering significantly more romantic feelings for the man Benedict had become, I found myself slightly nerovous as I stood outside his door. Still, I forced myself to ignore the nerves as best I could. Benedict was hurting, so everything else had to be put on hold while I helped him.

I knocked on his door, pretending my faster-than-normal heartbeat didn't exist as I waited for a response. That became much harder to accomplish when Benedict opened the door, his shirt far more open than normal and without anything over it, hair looking a rumpled mess. My heart did backflips, despite me mentally telling it to calm down.

"Y/N! I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting you. I must look a mess-"

"No, not at all!" I said much too quickly. "You look, uh... very nice."

The familiar lopsided smile I loved so much appeared on Benedict's face as he leaned on the doorframe before me. He raised an eyebrow, the familiar spark of mischief that I loved so dearly igniting in his eyes, and for the first time in more than a day, he looked to be slightly back to himself.

"Well, I'm very glad to hear you think so. What brings you to my door, then?"

"You haven't seemed to be doing very well since you got the news about Anthony. And don't try to deny it, I know you too well. So, I thought I'd come find you and try to help cheer you up."

Benedict's eyebrow rose again as he crossed his arms.

"And what exactly did you have in mind?"

"I'll show you. But we're going to have to be a bit sneaky about leaving."

Benedict's mood lifted the moment he found out we were going to sneak out of the house together. We'd been regular trouble makers as children, sneaking out for adventures at least once a week, but since we'd both grown up that had basically come to a stop. Now, as I took his hand and dragged him along behind me and we ran through the countryside and left Bridgerton House in our wake, I couldn't stop a wild laugh from bubbling out of my chest. I'd missed this much more than I'd wanted to admit.

"Where are we going?" Benedict called, his own voice breathy and laced with laughter as we ran. I just shot him a grin back over my shoulder.

"You'll see!"

He huffed, but didn't protest as he followed after me. Finally, after winding through the woods and climbing a rather steep hill, we reached the spot I'd spent so long making nice this morning.

This hilltop looked out over the countryside stretching beautifully below us, even better now as the sun had started to get a bit lower in the sky. Waiting for us was a picnic blanket spread out in the grass with all of our favorite foods, wine, and an easel with art supplies set up right next to it. I dropped Benedict's hand as we came to a stop, instead turning to face him with a grin.

"Well? What do you think?"

He stared at everything I'd laid out, mouth open slightly in shock. His brow furrowed when he saw the canvas, and he turned back to me.

"What is all this?"

"It's a picnic, for the two of us," I said. "To watch the scenery and the sunset together without the pressures of society or being a Bridgerton to bring us down. The easel is optional–we can pack it away right now if you want to. But you told me you think Anthony's the reason you got into art school, and I don't agree. I've seen your work, and I know just how good it is. You got in on merit, Benedict. But I know I can't just say that and have you believe it, so I brought some supplies here so you can prove it, if you want to. Paint this moment for the two of us, and I'll swear on our relationship and everything I hold dear to be honest about what I think. Completely, totally, brutally honest."

Benedict's eyebrow quirked again.

"Well, I don't know if brutal is completely necessary..."

"I mean it, Ben. I hate to see you like this, doubting yourself. So if there's something I can do to counter Anthony's idiotic meddling, I'd like to."

"And what if..." He cleared his throat, emotion swirling in his gorgeous brown eyes as he met my gaze. "What if the truth would only serve to enforce what I know? That Anthony's meddling and money is the only reason I've gotten where I am."

I shook my head. "That won't happen-"

"Y/N." I stopped, biting my lip and forcing myself to meet Ben's stare again. He took a few steps forward until we were right in front of each other, then took my hands gently in his own. "What if it does?"

I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. "Then I will keep my word and tell you so. One way or another, I will tell you the truth, even if it may not be what I want to tell you. I swear it, Ben."

He nodded slowly, eyes scanning my face. We stayed like that for a few long moments, and briefly, I thought Benedict might make a move to do something I never though he'd do with the Ton hovering over both our shoulders whenever we were together. But then he sighed, a smile returning to his face as he stepped away.

"Alright then. I believe you, and I value your opinion. And since you went to all the trouble to drag these supplies up here in the first place... I may as well get started."

I beamed at him. "I'll pour us some wine."

"Please."

When Benedict first sat down at his canvas, he kept fidgeting nervously, his hands hovering and twitching over various paints and brushes as he second-guessed his decisions. But slowly, as I kept up a stream of conversataion, supplying him with food and drink for fuel as he needed it, I noticed him beginning to relax.

"This is nice," I mused, leaning back on the picnic blanket and looking out at the scenery as Benedict worked. The sun had gotten much lower in the sky than when we'd left, which Benedict had grumbled about as it impacted his painting. Still, the golden light, soft breeze, and warm, fresh air felt like heaven to me.

"I agree," he said, not taking his eyes away from his easel. "I missed running off on adventures with you at the drop of a hat."

"So did I. But, hopefully... we may be able to get back to that again sometime soon."

Benedict looked over at me from his easel, a rougish grin on his face.

"If I didn't know better, Lady Y/L/N, I would think you were boardering on making me a marriage proposal."

I faced forward and closed my eyes under the guise of feeling the sun, trying to ignore my heart pumping frantically in my chest.

"Well. Fortunately for us both, you do know better. And it's not as if you're some strange man I met at court. You're... Ben. My best friend."

"I never said I wouldn't like it, did I? It would be an honor to be proposed to by you."

I cracked one eye open, turning my head to face Benedict with a grin. He wasn't looking at me, his stare focused on his canvas, his face completely serious. My heart stopped threatening to explode out of my chest, and instead settled into the unique, glowing warmth of love I felt whenever Benedict and I were together.

"I love you, Ben," I said, my voice soft and quiet. He stopped his work completely to turn and look at me, a soft smile on his face.

"I love you too. Very, very much." We held each others' stares for a moment, soaking in the comfort and joy of being together, and then Benedict's smile turned into a more edged grin. "It's a good thing we feel so strongly, since we may just be forced into an earlier marriage than planned to avoid a scandal after disappearing for an entire afternoon and evening together."

I huffed and waved him off. "Fortunately, I predict your brother will be accidentally helping us and making up for causing this crisis of confidence in the first place. He and Miss Kate Sharma are so ridiculous and dramatic together, I highly doubt anyone will notice we're gone."

Benedict chuckled, turning back to his work to scan it one last time before finally setting down his paintbrush. He took a deep breath, then stood and offered a hand to me.

"I've finished," he announced as I took his hand. He pulled my to my feet, but instead of looking at the painting, my eyes stayed fixed on him. We were almost chest to chest, and I could tell from his furrowed brows and darting eyes just how nervous he was about my verdict. "Remember, you promised me honesty."

"And honesty you will get."

Finally, I turned from Benedict to the canvas he'd been working on all afternoon. I'd resisted peeking before now at his request, so I wouldn't have any bias from watching his process. Fortunately, just as I'd predicted, his work was magnificent.

"Benedict..." I breathed as I took in the soft lines and vibrant colors before me. It perfectly captured how I felt looking out at the valley before us; it captured the gorgeous scenery, yes, but it also infused everything with a bit of magic that I only felt in this space with him. "This is absolutely incredible."

Benedict came around to stand next to me, arms crossed. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him shaking his head.

"Now please don't forget, you promised me honesty."

"I am being honest! Benedict, this is fantastic. The way you capture the myriad of different shades of the light shining across the valley, the seamless lines giving the world a slightly hazy, dreamlike look, and the way you've left the paint a bit messier with the clouds, to make it look like they're moving? It's all perfect, Ben. And masterful. It's a picture of the valley, yes, but it looks like it's alive. And you somehow managed to capture what it feels like to be here in the moment together, the sun on our faces, with each other even when we're not supposed to be, in a truly special way. You're an incredibly talented artist, and I'd be saying that even if you were a complete stranger that I didn't particularly like."

He snorted, then after a second, wrapped one arm around my waist and pulled me to his chest. I leaned into him immediately, sighing a bit as he leaned his head against mine.

"I have a hard time believing you'd say all that to a stranger you didn't like."

I rolled my eyes and elbowed him in the stomach, and he laughed without letting me go. A smile spread on my own face despite myself.

"Alright, maybe I wouldn't say all that to a stranger I didn't like. But I'd say it about their work when they couldn't hear me, probably to you. My point stands, Ben. You are a very skilled and talented artist. Anthony isn't the reason you got into that school. You are."

His chest rose and fell with a long, deep breath, and then finally, I felt him nod.

"Thank you. I can't promise it will always be easy for me to always believe it, but... I'll try to remember your words, and not my brother's, from now on."

"Good. And if you feel down again, you can always come to me. I'll always be there for you, Benedict, whenever you need me."

"And I you, my love," he said, moving down to whisper the words in my ear as he wrapped his other arm around my waist, too. He kissed my cheek, and I leaned back into his chest for a moment before turning around in his arms to face him.

The beautiful, kind smile I'd fallen in love with stared back at me, along with his warm brown eyes. I smiled too, then finally stopped ignoring my racing heart and decided to continue the theme of ignoring the Ton and what they might say.

I leaned into Benedict, closing the distance between us with a glance at his lips before meeting his eyes again. Both of his eyebrows shot up, but he didn't pull away.

"Y/N... if anyone found out..."

I smiled. "They won't. Besides, they'd just make us follow through on something we're already planning, anyway."

Benedict huffed a laugh, his eyelids fluttering a bit as he looked at me like he couldn't believe I was real. Then, his arms tightened around my waist, and he leaned in even closer. I closed my eyes, feeling Benedict stop just a hair's breadth away from my lips.

"Are you sure-"

I closed the distance myself before he could continue. Benedict smiled into the kiss a moment later, pulling me closer to him, the two of us locked in each others' embrace as the sun set in the hills behind us. Truly, I didn't think anyone would be able to find out about how we'd spent our afternoon, but I also truly didn't care. I loved Benedict, and even though it was technically early in our courtship, I'd known him for most of my life. I knew we were meant to spend our lives together, and I knew he felt the same way as I did. Sooner or later, we'd make it official with an engagement and marriage, and be able to disappear together whenever we wanted without the Ton batting an eyelash. But, in the meantime, I didn't mind sneaking away for private moments like this one bit. No matter what had led to it in the first place.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

[notapradagurl7]

We Meet Again.

Black Fem! ReaderHairStylist! x Lamont Diggs.

Fandom: Rap Sh!t(2022-2023)🥲

Summary: When your niece, Kailey is best friends with your client's daughter that you drove to school but didn't give them right back to your sibling, you didn't expect to run in Lamont again and you didn't know that he had a crush on you, leading to more than a confession.

WC: 3,435k

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write about Lamont for a minute! He’s been fine to me since day one, and I miss rap sh!t, 😭 don't forget to leave comments, likes and reblogs are welcome to support, drop a request if you like, they're always open! ❤️🫡

Warnings: fluff, dirty talk, praise, fingering, use of AAVE, cussing, angst, mention of neglect, use of the n-word, rough sex, unprotected sex, head(fem receiving) consensual for both parties, confession, PWP, pet names, sibling rivalry.

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @satoruya @planetblaque

@playgurlxoxo @naj-ay444

@becauseimswagman1 @jazziejax

@beenathembo @brattyfics

@hxneyclouds @henneseyhoe

@yassbishimvintage

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaesworld @ovohanna24

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—————

Your gaze drifted to your niece Kailey through the rearview mirror, where she sat in the backseat, radiating pure joy. Her bright smile lit up her face, and her raven hair was intricately styled into box braids, each adorned with colorful pink and white beads that jingled softly with every movement.

The sunlight spewed through the window, casting a warm glow on her smooth brown skin, making her look as if she was glowing with anticipation.

You chuckled lightly before almost driving when the traffic light turned red, Kailey was always so excited about going to school, learning and seeing her new best friend, Melissa.

“Someone’s excited huh?” You hummed with a grin, before your eyes flickered back to the road.

“Yeah, I get to see my best friends today, Melissa, we share cute stickers and play games, Toby and I always trade Scooby Doo fruit snacks too!” Kailey exclaimed, looking at you with a smile.

Damn, you remember those Scooby fruit snacks in middle school through high school. You made a mental note to buy a plethora of them when you went grocery shopping for you and Kailey.

Also, make a mental note to call your sister for the umpteenth time but she never picked up the damn phone. It was never “hello, how are you?” it was always “Has Kailey been fed yet?” as if her child was a pet, not a human.

“It’s good to have friends you can have fun with and trust Kai, and we get to spend the weekend together again,” You sang playfully, watching her grin.

It appeared that today's children had a tendency to cycle through best friends as easily as one might change outfits—discarding old friendships with casual indifference, treating them as if they were nothing more than disposable items.

“I like spending time with you more than Mommy, she never asked how my day was, never checked on me, nothing,” Kailey mumbled under her breath.

Your grip tightened on the steering wheel at the softness of her voice, the sadness that you wanted to destroy and let it not come near Kailey or you.

Why did Mariah have to be such a bitch? How to have a child if you were going to put her through this? Why have sex without condoms if you know that you're going to be a bad parent—-

“Green light, auntie!” Kailey exclaimed with a giggle.

Her voice brought you back into reality as you made a left turn through the highway. The faint sounds of cars beeping horns and passing through, prickled at you. Almost making your eye twitch.

In vibrant Miami, life was a balancing act; you juggled three jobs that defined your chaotic yet fulfilling routine. By day, you transformed looks as a passionate hair stylist, and by night, you served drinks and meals as a part-time waitress.

In between those roles, you played the pivotal part of chauffeur and auntie, dutifully driving your niece, Kailey, from her home to school and back again. Kailey often stayed at your house, sometimes for days, often for nights at a time.

Meanwhile, your sister, Mariah, was perpetually busy with what she claimed was a thriving career at a prestigious corporate firm, one that left little room in her life for the needs of her daughter.

Mariah’s relentless ambition drove her to prioritize her desire to climb the corporate ladder—her sights set firmly on the role of CEO—over the maternal responsibilities that came with raising a child.

In her attempts to reclaim a life unmarred by motherhood, she became increasingly neglectful of Kailey, and this deep-seated frustration gnawed at you.

You couldn't shake the looming comparisons to the character Toni Childs from the TV show *Girlfriends*: rude, manipulative, and consumed by her own desires.

Clearly, she cared for Kailey and raised her well, but it was apparent that she eagerly anticipated your arrival to take her child, allowing her some personal time. However, children are perceptive and can sense when something isn't right.

“Auntie Y/N, is mommy going to be home when I get back?” Kailey asked, her voice laced with a hint of worry.

You glanced back at her, your heart melting at her innocent expression, “No, baby. She won't be home. I can't lie to you when I tell you that she’s not doing a job, i'm making that money so we can have fun, right?”

You understood Kailey's feelings at her age because your mom acted the same way when you were young.

You supported your sister while your aunt took on the parenting role and told you both that sometimes parents can be awful and may not prioritize you. She wanted to reassure you that you weren't alone in this.

The car came to a complete stop in the elementary parking lot and you killed the engine, pressing the button, hearing the crisp clicks of the locks unlocking. You stepped out while closing the door behind yourself, opening Kailey’s door for her, grabbing her hand as she jumped out.

After letting Kailey out of the car, her tiny shoes clicked on the concrete. You quickly held out your hand out as she gripped yours tight, “Are you for school?”you asked with a smile.

“Yes, I am, I can't see my friends and hang out with you,” She replied back.

“Have a great day okay? I love you pooh bear,”

“I will, you have a great day too, Auntie Y/N!”

Kailey ran into your arms, enveloping you in a tight, warm hug, you kissed her forehead and gently put her down.

As you observed the cheerful brown-skinned girl dash off with her friends, they made their way toward the double doors that swung open, by their favorite teacher. Ms. Wilson, her skin similar to a butterscotch hard candy in your grandmother's purse.

Standing by the doors, Ms. Wilson, framed her face, her curly pixie cut was in a shade of chocolate brown. She wore a light blue collared tee, paired elegantly with a diamond-patterned pencil skirt just below her knees. Her black heels clicked softly against the floor as she moved.

With a wave of her hand and a friendly smile directed at you, she created an inviting atmosphere, prompting you to respond with a kind wave and a warm smile in return.

“Thanks for everything, Ms. Wilson!”

“Of course, dear! I'm glad to always help!”

You were happy to have the same teacher growing up and now Kailey has that, a teacher that cared.

You turned to spot a recognizable tall man with locs, his brown skin glistening in the heat. He wore a grey t-shirt and grey shorts that hung loosely around his bare legs, while his crisp white Air Forces clicked rapidly against the sidewalk.

His daughter Melissa tugged on his hand. She had her locs in pigtails, brown skinned, dressed in a pink dress and sneakers.

It had been ages since you last laid eyes on him at that vibrant cookout your family hosted five months ago.

Hearing those toxic stories about them and yours made you cringe, the back and forth between them, and honestly you remember one night when you smoked weed with him and blurted out that Mia didn't deserve him. He deserves better.

Once he heard that, he held on to what you said. Keeping it tugged in the depths of his mind like you passed him a secret love note in college, avoiding the prying gaze from your classmates and professor.

And you never heard him speak of Mia’s name ever again, as if she was Lord Voldemort from Harry Potter. He only discussed his music-producing career and his daughter, Melissa.

The sun was shining brightly, and laughter filled the air as your daughter and niece enjoyed their playdate amidst the lively cookout.

Your aunt Cassie, was also the matchmaker, had invited Lamont, knowing that the two of you had a genuine friendship that she believed could grow into something more.

Her strong disapproval of Mia was evident and has been there from the start. Only fueling her desire for a connection between you and Lamont.

That man was fine, fine.

You knew about the complicated relationship between Lamont and Mia, who have a daughter named Melissa, and you only restyled Lamont's locs; he paid you the substantial fee you asked for.

“Come on, Daddy! I don't want to be late for school,” Melissa exclaimed, tugging onto the hem of his shirt.

You hadn't seen him in a while; life had gotten busy, but this moment felt nostalgic.

He approached you, his daughter tugging at his arm impatiently. “I swear she’s gonna pull something else if I don't get there faster,”

“Tell her to take it easy, it’s just school,” You replied with a chuckle, smiling at him.

Lamont chuckled and shook his head, “Not when she’s ready to see her best friend Kaliey and Toby, also its arts and crafts,” he replied, rolling his eyes dramatically.

His eyes locked with yours again, and you felt the tension rise between you. “You know how these kids get,”

You laughed, the sound light and airy, as you watched his daughter talk lively about her plans for the day. It was hard not to notice the admiration in Lamont's eyes as he listened to her, a proud father in his element.

“Daddy!”

“Okay, okay,”

You watched them walk inside, the doors closed shut with a loud click and the bell rang immediately after, moments and moments later. You were brought back to reality by the familiar sound of sneakers scuffing against the pavement.

You turned to see Lamont walking out of the school, his tall frame striding toward you with a look of satisfaction, you felt butterflies in your stomach. That feeling you couldn't shake when you were around him.

“Y/N!” he called out, and your heart did a little flip.

“Hey, everything okay?” You asked, curiosity crept up as your eyes locked with his.

“Yeah, just wanted to catch you before you left, I was thinkin’ maybe..you could help me out with my locs,” he asked, running a hand through his locs. Y

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile spreading across your face, “Oh? You're asking for a hair appointment, huh? Is that your way of saying you want to spend time with me?” you asked with a head tilt.

“Well, yeah…I mean, I wouldn't mind some of some of your company today, just us?” He said nervously, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

Was he that nervous around you or was it just the Miami heat?

“I wouldn't mind your company either, I can definitely retwist your locs,” you replied with a smile, keeping your tone light.

“Cool, can I ride with’chu in your car?” he asked again, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yes,” you hummed in response, leading the way to your car. You unlocked the doors, and he slid into the passenger seat with a grin as you both settled in.

As you pulled out of the parking lot, you stole a glance at him. Driving off the school and made a right turn on the street.

The luxurious houses of the neighborhood flashed by, side by side, sprawling out well-trimmed green grass and manicured gardens. Lamont gazed out the window, impressed by the level of opulence that surrounded the ambiance.

Parking into the driveway carefully, killing the engine. Unlocking the doors and stepping out. “Nice neighborhood,” Lamont commented, his eyes roaming the place.

“Yeah, my aunt left me the house after she found another place to live, it's a bit much for me, I make it work,” you replied with a shoulder shrug.

“I can see why you like it, it's peaceful,” He nodded, his eyes still scanning the area.

Both of you walked over to the front door, and you pulled out the keys. Once inside the house, you took off your shoes, and Lamont followed suit, setting his by the door.

As the two of you settled onto the couch, you grabbed the comb and twisted hair cream. Putting the soft pillow between your feet, "Sit," you said, your eyes on him.

Lamont did as you told him, you grabbing the twisting hair cream and light green comb from atop the dresser, starting to retwist his locs carefully with skill.

“How come we never took that chance?” he asked you with a soft tone.

Your eyes widened at what he was saying, you were a bit confused. “What do you mean?”

“Us, you and me,” He recited with a serious yet soft tone.

As you finished the last few locs on his head, you pondered on it deeply. You wanted to know the same thing too.

“Umm…maybe because we were busy, you were still with Mia, I've been watching over my niece since my sister doesn't want to do it, life..” You confessed to him.

Once you were done with retwisting his locs, he stood up and sat beside you on the couch, giving you a serious yet softened expression, as if he had something on his mind that he has been holding it so long.

“I really like you, I want you to be my girl and I'm sorry that I—”

“Lamont…i get it, I like you too but can we make this work? You’ve got Mia, and I’ve got Kailey, I do want this to work,”

“I believe we can, you trust me right?” Lamont asked you, his hand atop yours, his thumb swiped over your palm.

“Yes, I trust you, Lamont, you're mine right?”

“All yours, baby,”

Your heart raced as he gently laid you back on the couch, their kisses growing deeper and more urgent. Each of their clothes taken off, tossed and littered across the bedroom floor.

He positioned himself between your legs with his hands tight on your hips, and rubbing his tip against your folds, your wetness coating his dick perfectly, "L-Lamont...fuck me..please.." you whined, moving your hips with him, hearing soft squelching sounds filling the room.

Lamont grinned in response before leaning down, "A'ight, since you're direct tonight, I'll give this dick," he teased, pushing himself inside you as she wanted from him, moaning wildly. Your pussy was to die for, and Lamont is gonna kill for it.

Lamont pressed his lips back to yours, rocking his hips into you at a rough pace. The bed creaked underneath their weight with every thrust, your nails felt a trail of marks on his back, "Oh fuck! Lamont!" you mewled, tears burning through your eyelids. Your arms wrapped around his neck, kissing him again.

He hoisted you upwards to ensure that you faced him forward in his lap to ride him, Lamont hissed sharply and his eyes fluttered closed, a low 'fuck' left his lips as he watched your face contort with pleasure. Neither of them wanted the night to end yet, they wanted more rounds to make up for every day that they didn't see each other.

"Shit..right there!" you mewled loudly, the words escaping you, you swivel your hips gently against him, riding his dick with skill. You forced your eyes open, meeting his loving gaze, moving with your pace. "Right here, baby?" he hummed, hitting that sweet spot repeatedly.

"Damn, baby.." he groaned in her ear, his praise gave you an intense thrill, he utterly filled you up. You started to vigorously bounce on him, feeling waves of pleasure coursing through your body. "That feels so fuckin good, more," you whined again, your nails scratched into his skin harder as you let out increasingly inhumane moans.

His fingers tracing the stretch marks on your ass, every delicate mark was a work of art to him, and Lamont felt a rush of gratitude for the beauty before him, your fingers tangled through his locs, and he watched your essence spill all over his dick and drilling his hips upwards, "You're always this wet for me?" Lamont rasped, licking his lips.

"Y-Yes! it's..f-for y-you!" You stutteringly wails, your eyes rolled back. Lamont's hand delivered a firm smack on your ass and she hissed. "Faster.." he demanded, watching the woman bounce with his merciless pace, you only let out a plethora of unholy moans.

Every thrust felt loving, meaningful and that's what he wanted you to feel, trailing kisses along your neck, worshipping your body with every touch, kiss and stare.

"Don't stop..harder..please!" you stammered desperately, biting your lip. Your slick walls hugged tightly around him as he pushed harder, his hands gripping your asscheeks. "I won't, I missed you, you know that?" he groaned in your ear.

He withdrew and swiftly turned you onto your stomach before he finished, carefully sliding back inside as you opened your mouth silently, "Y-yes! I-i missed you so much!" you cried out, feeling him push further and his thrusts becoming more forceful with desire, he took charge as each motion drew breathy gasps from her, fingers clenching the blanket.

“I missed you more,” he said, swiveling his hips, watching her squirm underneath him, you could barely respond, but that's the part she loves.

You loved to feel every inch, so lost in the sensation of him filling you up completely. "Lamont, I-I d-don't w-wanna c-cum—-" you gasped sharply, your head fell onto the pillow, feeling the knot tighten within her stomach, his pelvis meeting her ass after every thrust, making a clapping sound similar to a gunshot.

With each stroke, he pushed her closer to the edge. His hands gripped her waist. "I know, baby, one more time for me?" Lamont grunted, you squirmed beneath him, sending jolts of pleasure through you, Back arching and his palm spanked your ass again, he watched sticky strings of your essence break between them.

"Yes...only for you, i'm-gonna cum!" you replied, your voice strained with effort. Leaving you breathless and squeezing your eyes shut. His thrusts turned sloppy, and sporadic, both of them were so close, "Fuck, me too,"

Feeling her climax gushed on him, Lamont followed suit, pulling out and his warm cum spilling forth on the couch as he groaned, "Just like that," he breathed, their bodies entwined in a blissful haze. You felt him pulse inside, as he felt your heartbeat too, They both shuddered and he pulled out after, collapsing beside her.

Their naked bodies laid side by side, Lamont pulled her close, you rested your head against his chest. Hearing his heartbeat with your, with their backs against the sheets, breathing heavily and chests raising and falling in sync, chuckling lightly.

"Lamont, you have no idea how many nights I thought about this moment." you said, kissing lips twice. Still riding the high of their connection.

"But I wanna another but I gotta pick up my niece..” you confessed, tracing shaped on his arm. Her heart swelled with love.

You stood from the couch, gathering clothes, and taking a shower. Then you and Lamont walked out of your house, settling inside your car, driving off.

Knowing that your friendship was becoming more, it was something you wanted for so long. Lamont kissed your cheek, and said “I'm all yours, don't worry,”

———-

[victoria-grimesss]

Hi ❤️🥰🫶🏻 I really love your writing style and enjoy all your content. Sorry if this is a bothersome question but your name and Norman profile picture made me curious…. Would you be willing to write some headcanons for Daryl? Hope you have a nice week 🙏🏻

Daryl Dixon Headcanons SFW & NSFW

masterlist ->Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader ->Warning: MDNI! fluff and some smut ->A/N: Thanks for the request, TWD was my first fandom so I’m always down to write for it, especially Daryl. :) I just did some general Fem!Reader ones since that's what I mainly write for but DO let me know if there's any other specific ones you'd like to see. I also hope you have a nice week! Sorry this took so long!

SFW:

He would show affection through acts of service, (getting you something you needed during a run, fixing something around the house that you mentioned was broken, or cleaning your gun if you were too busy to do it. He has a lot to think about throughout the day, but he keeps tabs on things you like or need, he’s always thinking about you.

Around Alexandria when you both were there you would both spend a-lot of time in silence together just being in each others presence. He would be working on his bike and you would be reading a book just being together.

In general, there becomes an almost rhythm to your relationship, you walk together, eat together, go on runs together, most of the time you both just enjoy simply being together. Having the privilege to be alive and be next to one other. Eventually people start assuming one doesn't go somewhere without the other, "Y/N and Daryl this, Y/N and Daryl that. It's cute.

Not a fan of PDA, he was never that kind of person but he likes it when you fix a piece of his hair that's out of line, or adjust his vest so it sits better on him. He likes to know you care, he does get butterflies when you call him handsome even though he doesn't show it. Aside from a little smile and a dip of his head, "You don't know what you're talkin' bout girl.

He always admires your strength, you've made it this far and he admires the skills you've picked up along the way. Someone is doing something wrong that you're a pro at? "You're doing that wrong ya know, let me get Y/N, she'll show you how to do it right."

He always had a crush on you, always was looking out for you. You caught his eyes lingering quite some times over the campfire before you were both together, he's look away quick but he knew you saw. What can he say, he loved seeing you blush.

Once you're together he's less reserved about his staring and you'll catch his eyes roaming your body more than a couple times.

Not a master in flirting whatsoever but when he held out his hand, arm all the way outstretched to give you a bundle of wildflowers you were a goner. "Got ya these, said you liked em' found some while I was out."

He's a light sleeper but he loves to lay on your chest and feel you run your fingers through his hair it knocks him out in five minutes minimum.

Will avoid the regular medics in town and just come right to you, you've stitched him up for this long and he likes it when you fix him up and scold him at the same time for not being more careful.

"D, honey this is going to need stiches.."

"I know, you can just do it, you do it the same way as the doctors anyway."

"Fine, just- only if you get some antibiotics. Can't have you dying on me from a fuckin infection."

"Yea whatever you want girl."

Knows you can handle yourself but he always has an eye out for you when you're out on runs or outside the walls.

Boosts his ego when you ask him to flex and you swoon.

You both never got properly married, you haven't gotten around to finding rings but when a new group entered the town you just said you were his wife for simplicities sake and because why not you've been together so long and everyone else thinks of you two married. Loves hearing people call you Y/N Dixon.

NFSW:

He's home late often, it's a normal occurrence but sometimes when he's gone for a good long while and you hear his boots finally trudging up the stairs you get a little giddy, butterflies filling your stomach and you grow warmer just thinking about having him back in bed.

This can go one of two ways; number one is you welcome him into bed slowly, it's raining and he's cold to the bone just wanting to warm up with you. The room is dark and only the moonlight illuminates his broad shoulders as his body leans over yours, hips rolling into you with a smooth and rhythmic motion. His arms caging you in so your whole field of vision and mind is filled with him. His head would dip to your ear, teeth biting at your neck. "Missed ya', thought about you a lot on the way back."

The second way is when he's frustrated, the run didn't go how he wanted, didn't find enough, he's pent up more than usual and you welcome his release of energy with open arms. He's got one hand on your hips and the other gripping the headboard, knuckles turned white from gripping it trying to maintain some kind of composure when he's driving himself deeper inside you, eyes dark as your nails bite at his chest. Damp hair hanging in his face and the room is filled with the noise of your heavy breathing and the wetness between the both of you. "You like that? Fuck, yea ya do."

He prefers being together in the privacy of your own home, where he can put his undivided attention all on you. But that doesn't mean you both don't get creative.. you've fucked in almost every room, you both agreed the attic was just too out there, insulation is the biggest mood killer.

He's always been a man for quick showers, get clean and get out. But one time you were both on a time crunch and you had a great idea to share the shower, save water right? He couldn't keep his eyes off of you, the way the soap and water kept gliding over your body had him hard in like 0.5 seconds so needless to say you were late, something about making out underneath the stream of water added something he couldn't get enough of. Bruises on the back of your thighs from him fucking you against the shower wall lingered for some time.

He loves seeing you get ready in the morning, he's got the perfect view from the bed into the bathroom to watch the whole process, sometimes if he's feeling extra needy he'll come into the bathroom and gently bend you over, bringing himself out of his sweatpants and watching your face through the mirror as he slides himself in.

More than once he's thought about you riding him on his bike, with you just wearing his vest. While it's stationary of course, he's not that reckless.

Definitely does not care if you're on your period, you really think a little blood will stop him if you both want each other? Hell no. He didn't understand why you thought it was an issue the first time it came up.

Not incredibly jealous but it creeps in on him sometimes, when a new guy shows you a little more attention than he liked he gets cold with you later that day. Not because he thinks you'll cheat on him or the guy might make a move but that he thinks he himself isn't good enough for you, which you just won't stand for so on a few separate occasions you'll set him down on the couch and get down on your knees and remind him how much you love him.

He's a man that respects his woman so he's more than happy to return the favor, hands held tight on your thighs that are wrapped around his head, his tongue darting around and his lips wrapping around you and pulling his favorite noises from you. "Look at you, fuck, gonna cum for me? Atta girl."

He's careful about where he finishes, he wants nothing more than to dive completely into you and let you take all of him but if you're both not ready for what may come from that he's fine with painting your stomach or more preferably your chest, he's a tits guys for sure.

Aftercare is quiet and calm with him, both of you cleaned up and your head on his chest, the window is open to cool you both down and so the smoke from his after sex cigarette can sneak out.