#I have a constant craving to write crack but instead I make you cry

[agerasiaa]

:)

welcome to my messy page

…current hyperfixations: gravity falls (dipper), tmf (drake), hazbin hotel (radiosilence), ninjago (kai), the owl house (hunter), south park (kyle)

I'm Ash, that person you meet once, have a couple minutes of conversation with, and never talk to again because the experience is awkward for everyone involved.

I don't like to leave my house, but I’m forced to due to university and responsibilities and social life and such (ew!). I do like being a part of multiple fandoms, wasting my life in front of glowing screens. No, I’m not fatherless. Yes, I do own a pink ukulele.

Writing is my passion. If I don't get myself killed, I'll write a book one day. For now, I’ll settle for fan fiction which I think should have as much cultural importance as literature. I try my hand at poetry too.

English is not my first language. Thus, my grammar might suck without me realizing it. Sometimes I have these phases where I think I Majorly Suck and therefore everything I do also Majorly Sucks. Like my writing. Yay.

(Take care! I hope you have a reason to smile today, tomorrow and the day after that <3)

[torawro]

2 A.M. ( dabi )

pairing ! ━━  touya todoroki x  black!fem!reader

cw ! ━━ explicit content, minors do not interact. classic “sneaks-into-apartment in the dead of night” scenario. soft / calm touya bc he feeds my soul and makes me cry :’) . mentions of smut + descriptions of creampies. insecure thoughts / feelings from reader. tiny bit of angst. established situationship that turns into a relationship . fluffy fluff things all around <3.

word count !  ━━ 2.5k

notes ! ━━ imagine that dabi looks like this btw. im just so in love w him i feel ill i could cry. this was inspired by me listening to 2 am by sza around 2 a.m. ( also partially inspired by heartbreaker by kaash paige ). ive been wanting to write more dabi content for a while now and i just . . . had the urge to write this when i very well should have been sleeping. n e ways ‘m feeling real soft rn so enjoy <3 reblogs are HEAVILY appreciated !!

     IT FELT A LITTLE CHILLY, but not too cold for it to be bothersome. damn touya for not closing the window after he came up here, you thought. he tends to forget menial things like that.

you probably didn’t feel all that cold because you had a six foot, life sized furnace half flung on top of you, soft snores emerging from his mouth in a rhythmic pattern. his body emanated a soothing, steady stream of heat, effectively penetrating your flesh and negating the cold winds from outside.

one arm nearly hung off the edge of the bed, while the other was tucked under your waist, subconsciously holding you close to him. his face was snug against the crook of your neck, nearly laying on your chest, and tufts of his silvery white hair tickled your cheek. his skin felt charred against yours, but warm and constant. familiar. you’d grown used to how it felt against your mocha skin, even craved it some times.

his shifting to get even closer to you— if that was even possible— caused you to move as well, and such subtle shuffling caused your brain to remember the sticky substance staining your pussy lips and the fabric of your panties that rubbed against them. 

the bodily fluids that leaked from your stretched out cunt belonged to the criminal sleeping peacefully on top of you, mixed with your own previous arousal. “i gotta keep you f-full baby, need to keep you stuffed because.…” you didn’t quite catch what he said after that, your brain was too scrambled and fuzzy from the most passionate sex you’ve had in a while, if not ever.

the feeling of his seed threatening to drip and ruin the freshly changed sheets, in addition to touya holding you so closely, as if he needed you to help him sleep, made you feel wanted. it made you feel a different kind of warmth than the heat that burned through your veins during and after sex— no, this one was different. it made you feel like you belonged, like you were someone’s one and only.

you were sleepy, but couldn’t seem to drift off into the land of slumber that you so desperately wanted to float to. instead, your tired gaze was fixed on touya and his peaceful figure. you were jealous of how seemingly easy it was for him to fall asleep.

and then, your eyes flitted to his many, wide spreading scars and your brows slightly furrowed. you were very aware of what he does, what he could do, and how a job like the one he had was seldom merciful enough to offer a moment of real rest to those involved. your nerve endings sparked and crackled throughout your body, causing your hand to move on its own to gently caress touya’s cheek, letting your skin truly mold with his for a moment, ignoring the rough feeling of his burnt flesh or the metal staples under the pads of your fingers. the moonlight illuminated your face through the blinds, and a faint smile was visible on your lips.

he was so beautiful. so tragically beautiful.

and then, with no previous indication, your thoughts went astray to a somber, much darker part of your subconscious. the dam that held back your intrusive thoughts began to crack the longer you peered down at the sleeping man next to you. 

this thing you had going on with him, you didn’t expect it to bring you so much comfort, or such a state of bliss and serenity. this thing wasn’t even real— it wasn’t official, there was no title, he didn’t bother to stay when the sun rose from its own slumber behind the skyscrapers of the city. and then you thought, of course he couldn’t stay here. he was a criminal, a wanted man with a deep and ugly past that you’ve only had the pleasure to dip your toes into one singular time: when he revealed his given name to you. but even that didn’t feel genuine; he mindlessly begged you to call him by his government name when your legs were thrown across his shoulders and he was bucking his hips languidly into your dripping heat. surely, he knew what he was saying then if he was that insistent about it.

and it surely couldn’t have meant anything to him. you probably didn’t mean anything to him.

and yet, over the few months that this interaction had been occurring, no matter how hard you tried to keep your heart from slipping and falling off the deep end of the cliff, you couldn’t help but want something more from him, something more permanent. you wanted to be his, you wanted him to be yours, through the good, the bad, the ugly and everything else in between.

you wanted him to look at you like you were the only person on this whole, godforsaken planet, like you created the very stars, moon and the sun that hung in the sky. you wanted to spend every day like this . . . just like this. in this little sanctuary of your studio apartment, away from the horrors and strife and unrest of the rest of the world. just here, with him. 

you brushed your fingers against the hardened skin of his back that laid across your torso. and there was always that nagging feeling, the feeling of the string tied to your ankle that brought you off cloud nine. not everything you desired was possible.

this was probably just a stress reliever for him, you pondered as you distractedly scratched his scalp, just something to do in the meantime. and even if that was the case, for now, you decided that you were okay with it. to be okay with this fleeting moment of indulgence and mentally prepare for the moment it slips through your fingers by the time you awoke in the morning. 

turning your head a little, you planted a sweet, chaste kiss on his forehead and snuggled further into the mattress. you should really try and get some rest. 

just as you closed your eyes and your body relaxed, a deep groaning noise rumbled from the white haired man on top of you, causing your eyelids to pry open again. 

you met touya’s equally tired gaze, actively fighting the urge to kiss the sleepy pout on his lips. “mmm . . . . ‘t’s wrong, baby? you good?” your stomach did a subtle flip at his casual use of the pet name and just how raspy and deep his voice sounded; it was something you would never get tired of.

“it’s nothing. ‘m fine, go back to sleep, okay? you gotta get up to leave in a few hours.” you tried to not let anything negative seep through your tone when you reminded him that he had to leave before the sun rose, yet again. instead you chose to focus on his concern for you; he probably sensed your mental anguish, even in his sleep.

the tiniest crease in his brow told you that he didn’t believe you. already sitting up from his laying position on your chest, he adjusted his position so that he was sitting up against the bed frame next to you. you shied away from his piercing stare.

“c’mere.” he uttered only one word, in that groggy voice, and you just couldn’t find it in you to refuse. climbing onto his thighs, touya pulled you closer with just one hand on your hip, so your chests and extremities were brushing against each other. 

his other free hand laced with yours that laid limply in between the two of you. your body immediately felt hot at his initiative to be so intimate.  “c’mon pretty girl . . . . tell me what’s goin’ on. you been restless all night.” when you didn’t answer right away, touya leaned his face closer, a teasing smile tugging at his lips, and his mouth brushing against yours. “my baby mad that i’m leaving? want me to stay here with you?”

the offer was tempting, oh so tempting. his flirty smirk was causing you to internally shut down. it was also sad because touya didn’t know just how perceptive he was. or maybe he did, and that’s why he was looking you like that, talking to you like he’s amused with the sullen look in your eyes, why he was gripping your hand and waist even tighter than before. 

“i...no. i-i mean, i can’t ask you to do that. and ‘m not upset, i was just thinking....” you somewhat answered his question, but the scarred man was still not satisfied. he needed more from you. 

“what’cha thinking about?” he lightly coaxed more out of you, while simultaneously rubbing miscellaneous patterns on your bare thighs. 

it was like he put some kind of spell on you. some trance that clouded your mind and made you pliant and so eager to answer his questions. damn him, and damn your heart for yearning for him in every shape and form.

“you,” you blurted out without warning, then quickly added. “about us. and what...this is. what i am to you.” 

you didn’t mean to bring it up now, or so abruptly, but it slipped out of your mouth before your brain could process what you were saying. but at least after tonight your mind and soul wouldn't be tortured with the same thoughts and desires. clarity was a breath away. 

you also didn’t notice the smooth ministrations along your legs came to a halt, until you looked back at touya in the eye and immediately regretted it. his gaze was intense and unreadable, almost like when he was staring at someone he were about to burn into a crispy nonexistence.

now it was him that didn’t have a reply. and the silence was too much for your anxiety to handle, so you gulped silently and attempted to elaborate on what you meant. “i mean, these meetings, and the reputation that follows you . . . all this being purely physical, it made me think that i was only.... a-and i really didn’t— 

touya must have predicted what you were about to say, and before you could even say it, he cut you off with a warm palm at the base of your neck and fierce kiss on your pouty lips. 

you were stunned for a moment, but still meekly reciprocated his advances. and within a few seconds, he pulled away, his hand remaining on the base of your throat and the other on your thigh. his aquamarine eyes were shining and all-consuming, but his facial muscles barely moved. “and you what? you don’t think i actually like you? that i’m just using you, and you’re not enough?”

your brown eyes widened at his accuracy and blunt words. he really was intuitive. it was actually kind of scary. 

your mouth opened to reply, but he silenced you with a feather-like graze on your cheek you didn’t know he was capable of. “well you’re off. waaay off. i’m still here, and come back almost every night, because you’re more than enough for me. you’re more than just a tight pussy to fuck and a nice bed for me to crash on.”

touya tilted his face closer to yours again, so your lips can brush against his as he spoke, “i told you my real name. no one knows what my real name is and is still alive and breathing; it’s only you, baby.  you knowing that one piece of information means i already trust you more than anyone else. and besides, who else is patching up my wounds and rubbing ointment on my burns? only you, baby. who else am i letting my guard down and pouring my heart out to like this? only you, princess. who else do i dream about as soon as i fall asleep? only you, pretty girl. who else invades my mind like a parasite at every waking moment of the day? only you, sweetheart. who else would i burn the whole fucking world down for so much as someone looks at you wrong? only you, baby. who else would i rather have bouncing on my co— to make love to? only you, sweet girl. you’re the only good thing in my life right now. the only thing that makes living less shitty.”

you were motionless on top of him as you listened to his own version of a love confession, and you could already feel the salty tears threaten to drop past your eyelashes. touya, who was still holding one of your hands in his, grazed his thumb across the valley of your knuckles. taking his other hand, he wiped away the tear that had already cascaded down your cheek. he’s not used to being this gentle and this vulnerable with anyone. it felt strange and foreign. but with you, it all came naturally.

“there’s a lot more shit i wanna say, but i think i’m gonna wrap it up here. it’s late and i’m fucking tired.” he joked and he swore he felt his skin light on fire when he saw you smile at his playful words. “there isn’t anyone or anything else i would risk my job and reputation for, other than for you. so to answer your question: you’re mine, always have been, always will be. and i will always be yours. i’m basically telling you that i love you so....”

he trailed off, looking at the wall because he knew that if he kept looking at you his heart would crawl out of his throat and he would die. or accidentally activate his quirk because he was so worked up and burn you both alive. or both, in either order.

you were still perched on his lap in shock. tears were now freely flowing from your eyes, and they wouldn’t stop no matter how loudly you screamed at your brain to stop. you couldn’t see the genuine, loving grin on touya’s lips when he finally gathered the inner strength to glance at you again, because your eyes were so blurry with your own emotions.

“t-touya...!” you whined, your voice warping into a sob. wrapping your arms his shoulders and burying your face in his neck, you bit down on your lip to keep yourself from losing anymore of your composure. you were definitely moved by his sincerity, but you didn’t want him to see you ugly cry, which was a very real possibility had you stared at him any longer.

touya’s big, rough hands rubbed small, tight circles into the fabric of your shirt, and without another word and a kiss on your temple, the two of you slid back under the blankets and snuggled back into bed, with you clinging onto his broad, taut body. the warmth from his skin and his incoherent whispers—something about being a big crybaby— finally lulled you to sleep.

you had a feeling that he would be here when you woke up. 

あ TAGGING ! ━━ @yamaguchism @aaphroditeeeee @h34rt4u @deathskid @nekoriots @hellavile @bunnyyamor

( wanna join my taglist for works like these & more? click here ! )

[bowieandqueen11]

Luke Crain Headcanons

Request: Hi🥺I’m usually not to good about making request but I’m trying to breakout of my shell on that cause you are an amazing writer and I love everything you write!! But can I request a Luke Crain headcanon where you guys grew up together but distanced while he was in rehab but you came back together after what happened with Nellie! Thank you so much you’re an angel🥺💛 

Thank you SO much @cathrinexxxv​ I LOVE LUKE CRAIN! Also I’m so ready to binge watch all of Bly Manor tomorrow!! <3

You and Luke first met when you were very young. As in, really really little. To this day, you’re still constantly teasing him and making him blush smile about his huge magnifying pair of glasses and his obsession with bowler hats.

You and your family used to live in the small village which was a fifteen minute walk away from the looming heights of Hill House, so when a rumour started spreading down the houses that a new family full of children were moving in for the summer, you, naturally, were intrigued.

One night, when you had heard from your mother that the new family had moved in, you sneaked out your back garden on a warm afternoon before dinner, cutting through the dark and dingy forest until you reached the outskirts of the property. Seeing a boy around your own age sitting on his own on the burnt grass, you waved to Luke from behind the branch of a nearby, crooked oak tree. He was startled, to say the least, but as he watched you hide slightly behind the bark, he was surprised to find he wasn’t scared in the slightest.

He felt as if he almost knew you already. As if this was always meant to happen, that you were meant to find each other here.

Nudging his glasses back up the bridge of the nose, he shyly waved back. Once he finally realised that you weren’t going to budge from your hiding place, nervous from the stories your neighbours had told you about this house, he decided to pick up his crayons in one fist and his paper in the other, before he sets off half stumbling, half stomping along the uneven ground towards you.

When he finally reaches the trunk, he stops and looks at you kind of funnily, tilting his head slightly before he decides the right reaction was to smile at you.

‘My name is Luke Crain. Do you want to play with me? All my siblings ignore me and they don’t want to draw with me.’

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon huddled under the shaking leaves, sitting on the roots of the tree, Luke tracing out a picture and you giggling as you tried to bump his hand out of the way to colour it in.

From then on, the two of you were inseparable. Nellie loved you of course, and saw you as her honorary best friend as well, as did the rest of the siblings (even though Shirley would never admit it, and Theo was too stubborn to), which meant constant sleepovers at Hill House.

Hugh would always chuckle and shake his head when he peeked into Luke and Nellie’s room, seeing Nell asleep on a red bean bag with a half open bag of sweets lying deserted by her feet, and you and Luke sprawled out on the mat by the iron railings of his bed, snoring. 

You were also the only one he allowed up into his treehouse. Although, sometimes he was too embarrassed to let you, or his siblings, in, because he had stuck pictures up on the wall of the drawings he had tried to do of you.

Growing up with Luke also meant having to calm him down after he starts seeing the tall, floating ghost. Sometimes you would try to climb up the ivy outside of his bedroom window, only to topple into the house headfirst when you start to hear Luke’s high pitched screaming coming from under his bed. Although Olivia would come running in, she would always end up comforting sobbing Nellie, as Luke would only grab onto you, the two of you sitting on the edge of his bed as you remind him the rule.

‘Breathe in and out Luke, that’s it. In and out, seven times - that’s what keeps you safe.’

‘Eight’, he would say with a trembling breath. ‘Eight times. You’re my family too.’

The two of you were gutted when Luke had to move away, but your parents could already see how close the two of you were, and so decided that a move away and a new school for you, perhaps, wasn’t the worst idea. Especially, they decided, since you had been there that night as well.

Although the two of you were close for the whole of your childhood, it takes Luke until he’s eighteen years old to realise just how long he’s really been in love with you. It takes some nudging on from Nellie, pointing out how you would run up to his locker during breaks between classes and just fill him in on how your day was going - each break, no matter how long it had been, without fail. Luke was the only person you wanted to talk to, and from the look of pure delight on Luke’s face as he leans against his locker door and gives his full, undivided attention to you, you’re the only person he wants to listen to.

Or how, Nellie would continue, you would come round to their house for dinner, and although Aunt Janet tried to separate the two of you by sitting you opposite each other, you would just spend the whole dinner ignoring whatever Theo was talking about and giving each other funny looks as you kicked each other in the shin.

Or, when the two of you got a bit older, and you would sneak out of your dorm to visit him in the middle of the night, throwing little rocks at his window until his curtains would rustle and the window latch would be thrown open, his grinning face peering down at you. Despite having spent the whole weekend together, reading to each other in the town’s local library, or just lying shoulder to shoulder watching movies, the two of you would sit out in his garden, on the dewy grass, constantly craving each other’s company. You made him blush one night, when you suddenly grabbed his hand and intertwined his growing fingers over your smaller ones, pointing up at the moon, and the glowing stars, not realising the little side eye, euphoric look he would give you. 

That’s when he finally realised how immensely, and terrifyingly in love with you he was.

It scared him, to realise this, but deep down he knew it had always been you.

He has so many nightmares though. So many nights are spent with his head lying heavy in your lap, as you brush through his golden hair, trying to shush him and calm him down, or rocking him as he cries into your shoulder because of the nightmares he has about his mother, or about Abigail.

As the two of you start to escape your teenage years, and the wishful chasing after each other that came with it, your relationship becomes slightly more strained when he starts using. You choose to move in with Nellie for a while, once he finally goes to rehab. When she gets married, and you're forced to find somewhere new to live, you think you'll never hear from the Crains again - you get the odd visit from Nell, or Theo, but they're so busy enjoying the newly wed life, or studying for their degree that it's not enough - nothing fills the hole that comes from missing Luke. 

It hurts that he never comes to see you, but little did you know that he used to sit at his little beige desk every night, underneath the barred window, just staring up at the moon as he bit on the edge of his pen, a feeling of such wistfulness and loneliness and longing weighing down his chest.

He used to write you a letter, every day, just pouring out all the feelings he was too afraid to tell you, but he always crumples them up and throws them away, too scared to send them.

When Steve phones you up to tell you the news about Nellie’s passing, you told him to immediately come and pick you up.

You're terrified when you open the door and walk out into the bone chilling night to hug him, your heart thumping in your chest when he tells you about how Luke has left rehab again and is somewhere out on the streets, probably using. It breaks your heart, but you know you have to be the one to find him, to bring him back.

When you reach him, and see the man you've loved since you were a child wandering, shoeless and shivering along the freezing, cracked pavement, muttering to himself, you can’t help a tear slip out as you unbuckle your seatbelt and hop out of Steve’s rental.

Luke is so terrified, he doesnt recognise you for a second. It’s only a second, though, before his eyes widen and he pounces on you, wrapping you into him so familiarly, his frame looming large above you but yet feels so fragile in your grasp as he buries his head into the side of your neck and starts crying.

‘I’m so, so cold, Y/n, and my arms are s-s-so stiff, and I’m s-so sorry, I’m so sorry-’

You can’t bear to tell him the news, so you just hold the nape of his neck and pull him tight against your chest, hating the way his whole body shakes in your hold.

On the day of Nell’s funeral, he doesn't leave your side once - it’s as if the two of you had never been separated at all. As everyone files in through the main door, ignoring the sour face on Shirley as they wander into the reception area, you and Luke just sit knee to knee on the couch opposite the entryway.

‘I tried to write to you,’ he starts, as he fumbles a cigarette from out of his breast pocket and tucks it away behind his ear, trying to busy himself with anything so he doesn’t have to meet your confused eyes, and so you don’t have to see the guilt ridden in his. ‘I want you to know that. Nellie kept on telling me off, but i just didn't know how to say what i needed to say to you.’

‘Luke, its okay, i understand how difficult it was for you-’

‘No-no, Y/n, no more excuses! You mean so much to me and i- i cant... i can't lose anyone else. Just-’

He's so gentle when he finally reaches over and kisses you, trying to shake off his fear and just show you what he meant instead. His suit rumples against your chest as he smooshes himself against you, cupping your cheeks softly with his large hands as he tilts you to the side to meet him in a needy, a desperate, a long anticipated kiss. 

He doesn’t pull away - he can't - until you finally break for air, and only then does he finally concede and places his forehead against yours with a soft thud, just closing his eyes in both agony and bliss.

‘I’m sorry that took me so long to do.’

‘It was worth the wait. Although, I have to be honest, your timing has always been rubbish.’

He chuckles, his deep voice vibrating against your chest as he rests his head on your shoulder like a lost puppy, gazing up at you with those wide, lost eyes, and for the first time you can finally see the adoration and awe and just pure love that’s always been in them.

For the rest of the reception. before he tells you of his plans to go back and burn Hill House to the ground, is spent with the two of you escaping from his siblings by stepping outside and sitting on Shirley’s porch. Your arms stay linked tightly together, as if afraid to let go again, and his coat is wrapped around both of your shoulders as he rests against you, just content to be surrounded by your presence.

[tothemeadow]

Can I request sub! Muichiro and femdom!reader again???👀👀 I'm literally having the time of my life reading your work cause you're the only author I know who writes femdoms and who writes them WELL sjfjsjfjsjdjdjd Thank you so much for your hard work honey 💕 take care ❤️

You think so? 🥺

‘a touch too much’ / Tokito M. x Reader

warnings: NSFW, assplay, handjobs, feminine boy

words: 1,954

(a/n): Muichiro is 18+ in this, set in the Victorian Era

-

Everybody knows what happens when Mistress has a favorite. They get more breaks, little gifts, the ability to spend time at your side rather than being a slave to the grind. They’re competitive, ruthless, trying to work harder than everyone else for their Mistress’ attention. They’d sabotage each other if they had the chance, try to make everyone else’s lives a living hell.

It’s why your manor is so spectacularly clean; the floors impeccably glossy, the wooden railways without a hint of dust, the yards kept so finely trimmed that it seems each blade of glass is individually cut. Your staff comes to your every beck and call, waiting, just waiting, for you to slip them a little note or pull them to the side. They’ve seen what happens when one is picked, when one is lucky.

The special treatments are one thing, sure. To be able to eat an exquisite dinner by your side, to be spoiled by riches they could only dream of. But there’s the other thing, the darker, more carnal side of the process. What they crave is the mark – a neat bite mark that sits high above the collar of the uniform, just taunting everyone else. If the staff are lucky enough, they get to hear the pleasured screams coming from your private quarters, the sharp smack of skin being bruised. No… what they crave the most is your touch.

It’s what drives Muichiro, along with everyone else. He commits himself to his work, scrubs at the floors and dusts the fine china until his fingers are numb. If one wishes to be noticed by the Mistress, their work skill must be superb, and they must keep up a proper aesthetic. He’s careful to keep his nails trimmed and neat, constantly keeps watch for cracked nails and broken skin. Luckily for him, he’s been graced with a lithe, feminine body; compared to the other male staff members, he doesn’t wear the usual button up and breeches, but a female maid’s uniform instead.

At first, he thought it was ridiculous, having to be forced to wear something so humiliating, but the head maid quickly informed him that Mistress has a certain affinity to femboys, or whatever that was supposed to mean. Over time, Muichiro’s gotten used to the constant breeze flowing under his skirts, the garters and socks clinging to his slender legs. He was advised to keep up on a skincare routine, to keep his pristine skin and healthy glow. You look so much like a doll, the head maid had said to him. Muichiro planned to use his looks to his advantage as much as he could.

Even now, as he’s bent over the floor, he purposely keeps his hair tied back in a loose ponytail – it’s perfect to keep his hair out of his face while working and it’s a useful handle to yank his head back. He’s alone for the time being, so he can relax as he scrubs the immaculate floor, wiping away the nonexistent dirt and grime. If he remembers correctly, it was imported from France, if the tiny golden roses imprinted in the tile is anything to go off on.

There’s a particular clacking that catches his attention. The usual flat soled shoes the staff members wear don’t make that noise; only the head butler and maid are permitted to have shoes with heels on them. However, they must be busy with their own duties, so that can only mean—

Snapping to attention, Muichiro arches his back just enough so it doesn’t seem like he’s doing in on purpose. Although the skirt to his uniform falls to his knees when he stands, he hikes it up even further his hips to show off more of his legs. As he suspected, you come around the corner, the heels of your imported boots clacking against the floor. He pretends like he doesn’t notice your presence at first – not until the toes of your boots come into his vision, anyway.

“Everything alright?” you say. Muichiro shudders at the smokiness of your voice, at the pure, sweet honey dripping from your tone. His thighs twitch, a surge of warmth filling his lower belly.

“Mistress,” he says lightly. Setting his scrub brush to the side, he wipes his hands on his apron as he sits back on his haunches. “My apologies for not noticing you before.”

By god do you look absolutely stunning in your dress. The color of rich wine, it clings to your shape wonderfully, the thick swell of your breasts and hips accentuated by the tight cording of your corset. Muichiro can’t help but stare at your bare shoulders and neck, the delicate velvet choker wrapped around it so enticingly. With you standing over him like this, he’s feeling incredibly weak, mind turning hazy as he focuses on your polished lips.

“Working out here by yourself… Must be lonely,” you say absentmindedly. Your gaze flicks over his face and down his chest before it settles on his hands, which are folded neatly in his lap. You look back up to his face. “What’s your name?”

Muichiro’s heart kicks in his chest. “Muichiro, Mistress,” he tells you. “My name is Muichiro.”

You cock your head at him. “Well, Muichiro, why don’t you take a break? You look terribly parched.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice; shooting up from the floor, Muichiro quickly smooths his skirt and hair to make himself a bit more presentable. “I’d be honored, Mistress.”

“Fantastic,” you say. You grace him with a wonderous smile, something so utterly breathtaking that Muichiro honestly believes he might feel faint.

It starts off innocently enough – escorting him to your private study, requesting someone bring up a pot of tea (the maid who brought the tray up glared daggers at Muichiro), settling for some idle chit chat. Muichiro enjoys the time he gets to spend in your company, your luscious voice music to his ears. And maybe that’s what does it, the precious lull of your voice, your dazzling eyes. Or maybe the head maid is right and you do like seeing pretty boys like him in skirts and dresses.

Either way, in a wild spur of events, Muichiro finds himself bent over your mahogany desk, abdomen pressed to the glossy surface. The skirts of his uniform are bunched around his slender waist, his legs spread as your hands grope his perky ass. Okay, so maybe he doesn’t wear under on most days since he’s hoping you’d notice him. Maybe he’s already rock hard, his cock leaking precum.

“You walked around like this all day, doll?” you husk. He shudders at the pet name. “You were expecting this, huh? Looking all pretty, knowing that your little cock is hanging between your legs like some lewd whore.”

Muichiro stutters on a refusal, wanting to say no, he’s not a whore, but then you grab his asscheeks in such a way that it makes his heart leap to his throat. He’s not a dirty boy. He’s not.

“You know exactly what you’re doing, huh?” you breathe, dropping low over his back. Your painted lips brush against the shell of his ear; you nip at the earlobe, emitting a slight moan from him. “Admit it, doll. Tell me you were hoping that I’d bend you over my desk like this.”

“I-I didn’t—”

He cuts himself off with a cry as you spank his ass. You do it again and again, getting harsher with each strike. Muichiro scrambles on your desk, his blunt nails scratching at the surface. His cute little ass is beet red, both from your spankings and his embarrassment. He can’t deny the way his cock bobs with each spanking, how delightful it is whenever his cockhead gets caught on the material of his skirts.

“This will only be easier for you if you do as your mistress tells you.”

Oh, fuck. A whimper bubbles from the back of Muichiro’s throat. He hastily licks at his lips, tries to maintain his grasp on reality. “Mistress,” he squeaks, “I want you to fuck me.” He sounds so submissive, so pathetically weak. But he continues, throwing all caution to the wind in hopes that you would give him what he wants. “I always wanted you to flip my skirt and have your way with me.” And, to really sell his point, he cranes his neck to look at you over his shoulder. “Please, Mistress.”

You coo at his little show, your fingers tracing over the swell of his ass. “Doesn’t this little whore know how to charm a person,” you grit. Nudging your foot between him, you lightly kick at his ankles, forcing him to spread his legs. “Let your mistress see everything,” you purr. Muichiro moans as your tongue flicks at his ear.

Dropping to a crouch, you admire the sight before you. His ass is just so cute, so delightfully round and perky that you just want to bite it. His cock hangs heavily between his legs, curved towards his stomach and smearing precum all over the inside of his skirt. Reaching between his spread legs, you cup his balls, fondle them in your palm. Muichiro jolts at the feeling, his face pressing itself to the desk. He’s panting so fucking hard, and it feels like he’s going to burst.

Your hand reaches in even further, fingers wrapping around his cock and pumping it a couple of times. Muichiro’s breath hitches as your fingertip collects the precum beading on his cockhead and spreads it all over his length, the sounds getting wetter and wetter as you continue to jerk him off.

“Mistress,” Muichiro pants, “fuck – ah – that feels so good…”

He whines when you remove your hand; it quickly turns into a surprised squeal as you grab onto both of his asscheeks and pull them apart. The cool air hits his exposed hole, leaves his shivering violently. There’s the sound of you clearing your throat and then he’s wet down there. With a high-pitched keen, Muichiro tries to jerk away as your tongue suddenly flicks over the tight ring of muscle. You hold him still, though, your nails digging into his flesh as a warning.

“D-don’t use your tongue like that,” Muichiro squeaks. “It – unh – feels weird…”

Instead of answering, though, you lightly tap his ass and plunge your tongue into him. The noise that leaves Muichiro’s mouth is nothing short of animalistic; surely, all of the staff members in the manor could hear him. You do it again and again, your tongue thrusting in and out of him. Everything is too hot, too stuffy. Muichiro can’t breathe, can’t think. All he can do is call out for his mistress, beg for more, more, more. Your lips suckle around his hole, the sounds filling the room absolutely sinful.

Muichiro can’t believe what’s happening. Your lips and tongue are heavenly, so fucking good that it’s making him see stars. Your fingers tease his cock, his balls, his perineum—

Another ragged moan rips itself from the depths of his chest as Muichiro suddenly cums, thick spurts of white ruining the material of his skirt. He’s panting wildly, his eyes going wide as he realizes just what happened.

“My, my,” you purr, drawing away. “I can’t say that’s the quickest I’ve made someone cum, but it’s up there.” The tip of your finger pushes past the ring of muscle, replaces the spot where your tongue was. Muichiro’s velvety walls clamp down around the digit, a shaky groan slipping from his lips. “Tell you what, doll. We’ll have your stamina built up in no time. Do you like the sound of that, you filthy whore?”

“Yes! Yes, oh fuck yes!”

[euphoric-melloncollie]

little things - t.h

Pairing: Tom Holland x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of death, just sad stuff

A/N: idk why I got so inspired to write something so dark but here I am, I'm just happy to post something so let me know what ya think? <3 (it’s a little personal so sorry if some things are oddly specific.) + flashbacks are in italics 

It was the little things.

It was the way he would sit in his car after dropping you off and wait for you to get inside safe.

Even if he was angry at you for slamming the door in his face after screaming at each other for hours in the shell of his car.

It was the way he would sit with you every time you cried, telling you that no matter what happened, no matter what you went through, that he would be there.

Even if the reason you were crying was because of him, he was there for you.

The way he would listen to you talk hours on end about things completely irrelevant to his life, just to hear your voice and know that he was important enough to you to entrust him with your thoughts.

Even if he had heard you talk about it multiple times prior, he always promised to listen.

How when you were feeling down about yourself, he would never fail to remind you of how beautiful, valued, and loved you were.

How when he was away filming, he would never forget to call you every single morning and every night just to tell you he loved you, or keep you up to date on what he was doing.

Even if he was on set for 14+ hours and wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and get as many minutes of sleep as possible before he had to wake up and do it again.

How he not only kept track of your cycle, but knew exactly the off-the-wall cravings you had, the products you preferred, and the way you needed his warmth to help ease your aches - to make sure you never were always well stocked and well cuddled.

How he knew all the lyrics to all the songs from your favorite bands.

How he would memorize all of the cheesy quotes to all of the cheesy rom-coms you repeatedly made him watch just to recite them back to you later when he knew you needed to hear them.

How when you don’t remember to get your regular maintenance done on your car, he takes it in for you so you won’t get pulled over and fined for it later.

Maybe they weren’t little things.

Maybe they were huge things, but you didn’t realize it and that was the issue.

But it was too late.

All the little things, all the big things,

Every single god-forsaken thing that this man was and did for you had consumed you.

The way his tongue would push to the side of his mouth and the way his brows furrowed when he was asked a question that he was trying to process and answer with thought and the utmost of certainty.

The way the wrinkles on the sides of his eyes would appear every single time you made him smile with your puns and obnoxious noise making, or when he’d seen you naked for the first time.

The way his eyes lit up when he would talk about his passions, his aspirations in life, and you.

God his eyes were always as bright as every dying star in the sky when he would talk about you.

What you wouldn’t do to see his eyes light up like that - just one more time.

Just one more time is all you would ask for, because you know you didn’t deserve even that but you would give anything.

You’d give anything to hear his voice one more time. Just once.

The way he would practice his different accents in preparation for a new role. His ever so popular-in-the-bedroom Queens accent. It was always an inside joke between you and your friends, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a real thing you two dabbled in once or twice.. Or maybe more than you could count.

The way he’d sing to you when your mind wouldn’t shut off long enough for you to fall asleep. Or the way he’d sing with you when you would drive around late at night when the power would go out at your apartment and you couldn’t stand being home.

And god, did you miss his laugh. You would never fail to remind him how his laugh is what made you fall for him in the first place. And how, in return, you making him laugh is what made him fall truly, madly, and deeply in love with you.

But what does all your time together matter now when this happens?

They all mean nothing now.

What does you telling him how much he drove you crazy when he would forget to respond to his work emails, or how he would leave a trail of dirty clothes everywhere - or any other stupid little things you guys would fight about - matter when he finally left you?

It doesn’t matter.

All the little things, all the big things,

They do not matter.

And now you’re left here, completely alone next to a headstone yet to be engraved with the man you once loved’s name and you can’t help but get angry.

Angry that he lied.

Angry that when he said he would be there for you no matter what, no matter what you meant through - that he lied.

Angry that you wasted all of those minutes, hours - days even - hammering him with all of the stupid things in life that shouldn’t matter.

Angry that now you’ll have to walk inside of your home with no one watching you get inside safe.

Angry that you have to cry, grieve, and mourn the man you once loved completely alone.

Furious that you wasted so much time selfishly rambling about irrelevant bullshit, instead of telling him how much him listening to you ramble meant to you.

Furious that you’ll never again hear him say, “I love you. Always and forever,”

Livid because no matter how much you loved him, no matter how much he loved you, that it didn’t matter because he’s gone.

Tom was gone.

The love of your life was gone.

Your best friend, your protector, your partner in crime, your Tommy was gone.

And the last thing you had ever said to him was how you wished you could take it all back because it hurt so much anytime you would think of it all.

Why would you say that?

Why would you say you’d take it all back?

You would do anything to have the constant bickering and long nights back if it meant he was alive and with you.

Your last words to him were eating you alive because you can’t even wrap your head around why you would say them.

But what was even worse than your last words to him were the words he last said to you,

“Why are you doing this?” he had said, a crack in his voice and tear filled eyes, “why are you pushing me away when all I ever try to do for you is make you happy?”

You can’t take this anymore, you remembered thinking to yourself. “Because you’re you, Tom,” you had sighed, fingers scraping tirelessly through your hair, “and I’m me.”

“What the fuck does that even mean Y/n?!” He had never yelled at you like that before that night.

““I love you so, so much. Have I not proved that to you time and time again?” he sounded tired, exhausted from yelling.

“I”m tired of this!!!”

You broke him, you were broken, you could’ve fixed it but you were too selfish to know how.

“I wish I could take it all back, it hurts too much, just erase it all so we weren’t in this situation right now, Tom.”

“I would die for you, Y/n.. You know that right? I wou-,” but you cut him off. You had shoved the door open with your fist and slammed it before running inside, away from his words that you were too afraid to hear.

Those were the last words he had spoken to you before you once again, slammed the door in his face. Right before he had sat, once again, and watched you run into your house making sure you were safe. Right before he had sped off recklessly in his car, the image of the girl he loved most in the world clouding his mind.

And now you’ll live forever in guilt, knowing you couldn’t even let him finish his sentence, his real last words to you.

And you’re sitting there next to the untouched granite telling yourself, those are the last words you deserved.

You didn’t deserve the words you have waiting for you on your phone, on the unopened voicemail marked with his name and the heart he had placed next to it after your first date.

You didn’t deserve to hear his voice again.

You deserved the empty feeling of not knowing what he had to say.

[dcbbw]

Do you take requests, if so can you please write -"i am gonna fuck you so hard that you will forget you met that asshole" for driam.

Good morning, Nonny and Happy Thanksgiving! Hopefully this fits the bill.

 It was not yet dawn when Prince Liam slipped out of his rooms. His hair was sleep tousled, and he wore his pajamas. His feet were bare. The guard stationed outside his quarters eyed him first with concern thinking the young royal may have had a nightmare; it quickly turned to mock sternness when Liam gave him a sheepish smile.

They both knew where Liam was going. To young Lord Walker; since Drake’s return to Cordonia, the late night halls had seen the pair sneaking into each other’s rooms on a near constant basis.

With a slight shake of his head, the guard gestured for Liam to go. Flashing a grateful smile, the prince walked quickly down the huge hallway, his heart beat accelerating the closer he got to Drake’s rooms.

When his lover had gone away to America, Liam had been hurt. Devastated, actually. He knew Drake needed to forge his own path, make his way in the world. Liam would never begrudge him that, but it didn’t assuage the incompleteness that filled him.

During Drake’s absence, Liam had grown distant with those around him; everything had lost its appeal and luster. Although emails and phone calls were regularly exchanged , it just wasn’t the same. Liam needed Drake with him. He needed to smell woods and leather; he craved to feel fingertips and lips and tongue on his skin.

The assassination attempt changed everything.

Liam’s distance became isolation. Nightmares plagued him but he wouldn’t talk to anyone. The young prince sat in his rooms day in and day out, a wounded bird in a gilded cage. He daydreamed of fleeing, of going to America where the one person who could make things right now lived. That thought was the only thing that kept Liam on the right side of sanity.

And then Drake was back. Liam didn’t know how or why, but on a rainy afternoon one month ago, the door to his chambers opened and Drake’s voice filled the room and Liam’s ears. The lovers embraced and kissed and sobbed. Liam clung to Drake Walker as if he were a life raft in a turbulent sea.

He vowed to himself he would never let him go again.

Liam reached Drake’s door; he quietly turned the knob and entered the shadowy room. He walked with sure steps through the living area, making his way to the bedroom. Liam paused in the doorway, a frown settling over his features.

Instead of soft snoring, Liam heard sobbing. Was Drake crying? Why? Liam was uncertain what his next move should be. He went with his first instinct and entered the room, climbing into the bed with Drake. His chest was flush against Drake’s back, his arms wrapping themselves around Drake’s waist.

Drake stiffened. “Li?” His voice was cracked, filled with tears.

“Yes”, Liam whispered. “Love, what’s wrong?” Fear and worry laced Liam’s voice.

“Nothing.” Drake tried to shrug Liam off.

“You’re lying! What’s going on?”

Liam was fearful now. What if Drake was unhappy in Cordonia after living in America? Maybe Drake no longer loved Liam. Worst case scenarios ran rampant in the prince’s mind.

Silence except for sobs; there was no movement between them except for the shaking and shuddering of Drake’s shoulders, which rippled down his back. Finally, Drake spoke, his voice halting.

“When I was in America, I…I met someone. It hadn’t evolved into anything serious, and it wasn’t sexual. More like very casual dating.”

Liam’s grip tightened around Drake’s waist. He closed his eyes tightly. He’s leaving me.

Drake heard Liam’s silence. His placed his hand, wet from wiping his tears, on top of his lover’s. “I told them I had to return home because of an emergency. Last night, I told them I would not be returning.”

Liam relaxed slightly. “Are you crying because you won’t be seeing them again?”

“No. I’m crying because they wrote back some hurtful things…..things I don’t want to talk about.”

Liam mulled over what Drake told him; his emotions were all over the place.

He was jealous someone else had Drake’s attention.

He was pissed that Drake had found the need to look for another while in America.

He was relieved Drake was staying.

He was angry that someone dared to hurt Drake.

The emotion that spoke was love; fierce, protective love. “Fuck them! Bitches!”

Since Liam rarely cursed, the words sounded almost comical to Drake. He laughed out loud.

“What’s so funny?” Liam demanded.

He pushed his body further into Drake’s. The fabrics of their night clothes rustled against each other.

“You. Cursing and being adorable. I love you, Li.”

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you’ll forget you ever met that asshole!” Liam had no idea where that thought came from, but having sex with Drake Walker was actually a very good idea.

Drake twisted his body so he faced Liam; the tear streaks on his face shone in the dim light. There was a small smile on his lips.

“You don’t need to do that to make me forget them.”

“I want to!” Liam said eagerly, his lips planting kisses all over Drake’s face.

“Do your best, Your Highness. Do your best”, Drake murmured as his lips captured Liam’s.

[arigatouiris]

coffee addiction leads to good things // loki

Author’s Note: I love to get the chance to write for Loki, I mean he is so fun to write about! Thanks for requesting this, anon! And I hope you like it~ Word count: 1993

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Some crack maybe lol

❝

You were only trying to finish your coffee.

It was stupid, to say the least, that you ended up in the ground floor of the Stark tower (also because you worked there) because you had to make copies of some important file, but all you really wanted to do was finish your goddamn coffee.

You rolled your eyes as you saw a massive creature barge open the door to the stairway, and your gaze shifted to Tony Stark on the ground, having an aneurysm or whatever it was that’s currently killing him, and you saw something that might have just changed your life. The blue colored box that fell to the floor. You also saw that person who almost destroyed New York on your first week there (for the life of you, you couldn’t remember his name).

Letting out a hum, you picked up the object and examined it. Coffee in one hand, and this weird blue object in another. No one else seemed to be paying you any attention because that green creature (it was called something, but you can’t for the life of you remember their names) was destroying things, and Tony Stark was dying on the ground.

You tilted your head, against all the hullabaloo, and gave the blue box a good long stare, hoping it’ll turn into a coffee or something.

     “What the heck is this thing?” You asked no one in particular, before being roughly pushed aside, and that was it.

There was black all around you; it felt like you were falling but not really moving downward. Instead of downward, you were moving sideways, as if a strong wind was carrying you. You screamed, obviously, but you felt someone holding you. You couldn’t see who it was, but the way whoever this person was that held you, made you feel strangely safe. You knew you weren’t going to die, but you weren’t so sure if you would be unharmed.

Once the wind stopped, you were in someone’s arms, sideways. Your eyes were sewn shut and your lips were pressed to one another, and you felt your hair all over the place and your eyes had tears in them because of the wind.

     “Of all the things I have to deal with, it had to be a stupid mortal.” A man with a strange accent spoke.

You opened your eyes and met darker shades of the most prettiest eyes you had ever seen. It was the crazy man who had almost destroyed New York on your first week there. But, he sure had the prettiest eyes you had ever seen. However, now wasn’t exactly the time to be appreciating unknown beauty. Like a venus fly trap, these beautiful eyes might want you dead.

You let out a gasp and looked around, strangely still in his arms, and knew immediately that you were not anywhere near the Stark Tower.

     “Unhand me!”

You fell to the ground with a loud thud, letting out a yelp.

     “You didn’t have to drop me.” You grumbled, sitting on the ground. You opened your eyes and noticed the box still in your grasp.

     “Did this thing bring me here?” You questioned, not really expecting an answer.

     “No, I brought you here. Now, hand me the Tesseract.”

You looked up at the man and blinked.

     “You brought me here?” You asked, now standing up and moving a few feet away from him.

He nodded, but presented his hand out, as if he was expecting you to give him the thing he called a Tesseract. You scoffed before turning away, angry and confused as to why you were caught up in someone else’s mess. Again.

     “You clearly can’t understand what I’m trying to—”

     “You brought me here against my will.” You said, firmly.

     “I have no interest in negotiating with a puny human. Now, hand me the Tesseract.”

     “Who are you calling puny?” You snapped, glaring at him.

     “You, obviously,” Your eyes widened at his smug tone. “Do you even know who I am—”

     “I don’t care who you are! I had a job! I—I had a date! Oh my god. It was today. It was today! And she was cute too! Are you out of your mind?! I need to go back—”

     “I can take you back if you hand me the Tesseract.”

You groaned, “And why should I trust you? You almost destroyed New York on my first week there. Some impression I had on that stupid city.”

He paused. He had no idea you were caught up in that battle. However, Loki was relentless.

     “You need to trust me because I’m the only one who can get you back—”

You turned away from him and walked on ahead. The area looked like a large forest, wilderness all around you. The plants, however, did not look even the slightest bit like plants on earth. And you had studied Botany, which made it all the more confusing.

Where are we? You thought before examining one of the plants, the Tesseract held firmly in your grasp.

     “We’re in a planet that’s not in the same realm as yours.” He answered from behind you.

You let out a shriek before turning around to face him, to have him stare at you with a deadpan. He extended his hand once more, asking for the Tesseract. You frowned before turning away, trying desperately to find a way back without provoking this crazy man.

     “What’s your name, anyway?” You asked, your back still facing him.

     “I’m Loki, the god of—”

     “Great.” You said, rolling your eyes.

Loki, on the other hand, wasn’t pleased. He could easily take the Tesseract from your grasp like taking candy from an actual baby, but he couldn’t. There was something strange about the way you move around and the way you responded that screamed frustration. A frustration he clearly understood, because he felt the same.

He couldn’t understand what caused your frustration, and it surprised him that he was even this curious. How had you even managed to get stuck in the crossfire anyway?

A second later, you heard a twig snap from a little close to your right. Your eyes widened and you stilled, you were sure it was not you and you were even more certain that it was not Loki.

     “What is it?” Loki asked, snapping.

     “Shh.” You shushed him aggressively, before focusing all your attention on what was apparently moving to your right.

Loki’s gaze followed yours and immediately, his eyes widened as a large hippo with teeth emerged from the grass. It didn’t take long for either of you to understand that it was a flesh eating creature, since its eyes were bloodshot and its mouth was salivating. Loki grabbed you before teleporting out of there, reappearing in a place a bit far from where they were.

You were panting and looked like you were about to cry. Loki watched you, feeling your anger as he had felt his own, now quite sure that the reason you were feeling this way was perhaps similar to his own tale?

Were you abandoned as a child? Were you taking the Tesseract to extract revenge on your family for betraying you all your life? Were you trying to prove yourself to the only person who had always mattered to you? And the only person whose respect you never earned?

Were you lost in life like he was?

Trying so desperately to fit in?

Loki placed a hand on your shoulder, making you turn to face him. His eyes were soft and that shocked you; you felt your own frustration leave your system as you looked into his eyes. You were certain now that coffee almost didn’t matter.

     “You are grieving,” Loki spoke. That part was true. “You think the Tesseract will help you, but it will only cause you despair.”

Loki knew that he was doing so because of his promise to Thanos. But, now he was sure there was no Thanos to worry about. The Tesseract was all his, and he could do with it whatever he pleases. But, this meant living a life in hiding; and in constant getaway. It was slowly not making sense to him. And speaking sense to you, a mere mortal, assisted Loki in finding his own path.

He owed to you more than he could care to admit.

A smile then adorned his features, and his hand went over to your cheek. You blushed now, an effect Loki had on many women even back in Asgard.

“Tell me what causes you grief.”

You took a deep breath.

“All I wanted was a cup of coffee.”

Time stilled for Loki. His gaze turned cold and his hand fell from your cheek immediately. Once again, he had assumed too much. He felt like an idiot. However, you felt the change in demeanour. You felt something in Loki’s gaze that you perhaps saw in a movie one time.

     “Wait!” You grabbed his wrist and withheld him from moving.

     “I have clearly wasted my time with a stupid mortal—”

     “Again with the insults, geez. Loki, you brought me here why exactly?”

Loki rolled his eyes. “You were not part of the plan, mortal.”

     “(y/n).”

Loki blinked, callously.

     “What?” He snapped.

     “My name. It’s (y/n). Don’t keep calling me mortal. Doesn’t make me feel… special.”

Loki scoffed. “Perhaps you’re not.”

     “Ouch. Rude.”

Too much about her reminded him of Tony Stark. The sarcasm aggravated him. However, she was still holding his wrist.

     “I can leave you here and take the Tesseract without trouble—”

     “I know. But, you didn’t.”

Loki paused. He looked at her eyes and found in them a weird determination.

     “You could have, but you didn’t. You can easily kill me, I’m practically defenseless, yet you kept asking me for this thing. I don’t even know what the hell this is, but with how you keep demanding for it, I know it’s important to you. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t take it from me by force.”

Loki didn’t understand either. He thought that maybe he had seen in you frustration that he had seen in himself. But, that was merely him seeing in you what he wanted to see.

A moment later, his eyes widened and you were smiling. He could feel his heart beating erratically, and you slowly let him go. You stood there, holding the Tesseract, and all Loki could think about was how you made so easily (and without trying to) make him realize that he no longer had to run.

     “You’re a real gentleman for not forcing yourself on me, you know?” You said, folding your arms.

In a quick sweep, you threw the Tesseract at him playfully, Loki catching it with ease. But, the want—the craving hunger he had for its power—was gone. Once he caught it, he turned to you, you were still smiling at him, as if you were a godsend.

     “H-How—”

     “All I wanted was a coffee. I could tell you wanted this just as badly.”

Loki wanted to ignore that. His reaction calmed the more he looked at her, and he stepped closer to her, their bodies almost touching.

     “Let’s go.” He said, a smirk rising in his lips.

His hands wound themselves around your waist, causing you to gasp and your eyes to widen. Your chest was pressed against his, and you could feel your entire body warm at the way he was holding you. Loki had never found mortal women attractive, but right then, all he could think of was your smile and how unwittingly, you had set him free.

He now had the Tesseract, but he was free to do with it whatever he wanted. And there was only one thing he wanted to do.

Loki leaned down and whispered in your ear, his lips touching the shell of your ear, sending chills down your spine.

     “Let’s go get you that coffee.”

❞

[krugerevengeinej]

When the Water Begins to Recede Ch. 3 - Learn From Your Mistakes

Synopsis | Ch. 1 | Ch. 2

Song Inspo: Cringe -Matt Mason,  When I Was Older - Billie Eilish, Mr. Rattlebone - Matt Maeson, The Only - Sasha Sloan

AN: It is here, as promised, extra long and extra angsty! This took me so long to write, and I really hope you guys like it. Comments and rbs are most appreciated as always, tell me what you think. What did you like best, and what needs work? I crave feedback please don’t leave me in the dark.

Desc: Kaz struggles with Inej being gone, and all the chaos that is happening in the city, but is even more disturbed when she arrives from sea early with awful news.

------------------------------- 

The pain in Kaz’s leg had been a constant and bitter reminder of the current state of the weather. It seemed to echo his concern for Inej and the painful longing for her return. He’d already been frustrated by her insisting to leave as soon as storm season hit, and he could hardly bear the thought of her being held up in some foreign port as she waited for the sea to settle, or worse shipwrecked, drowned, attacked by pirates. She’ll be fine, he tried to console himself.

He needed to stop worrying, but while she might have been able to handle the pirates even his wraith—Inej, he remined himself, was no match for the ocean’s wrath. He was antsy enough it had begun to plague his already-minimal sleep. He seldom found it and when he did, she was there too, as she had been on that stack of crates, blood pouring from a wound he could not locate, and whenever he tried to help her she seemed to slip further away.

She might be swallowed by the water and he would dive in after her. He’d try to grasp for her hand, and she would flicker and vanish, so he would faze right through it.

Those weren’t even the worst dreams, no not even close. There were dreams where she never came back, where he waited for years, thinking maybe he’d caught a glimpse of her ship, but it was always a trick of the light. Sometimes she did come back, but she never regarded him, spoke to him even looked at him. He could chase her down the street, but she always ran faster.

But those still weren’t the worst, the worst was when she did come back. He’d receive the news that The Wraith had returned, but then she was nowhere to be found. He could turn the city upside down; search every crevice and scour every rooftop and she was simply gone. Yet he could feel her, she was somewhere in the city, he heard her laughter in an echoey room, saw the glint of her knives in a dark alley, and tried to get a glimpse of her shape, but it was like trying to catch his shadow. It was frustrating and confusing and terrifying all at the same time, and all he wanted was to see her again. 

It went on for three weeks, it was when she’d said her first letter was meant to arrive, but she had instead. He’d been worried as much as relieved when Pim had come into his office to inform him The Wraith was on its way into port. It was raining and great gusts of wind formed great swells that knocked the ships about.

Kaz had planned this out numerous times as he lay awake at night. He would not rush to the docks when she arrived. In fact, from now on he would stay away from her ship as often as possible. It had even been foolish of him to see her off that first time. The last thing either he or Inej wanted, was rumors about this new business of theirs. That was enough of a hassle, considering he still had so much work to do, and so much had been going on in Ketterdam.

There was his working with Wylan who was taking his father’s place in the Merchant council. As well as figuring out what the hell to do with his stake. Now that Pekka was gone the city seemed to be folding in on itself and there was lots of opportunity for new dealings and partnerships. The plague scare had worn off and left the Emerald Palace as well as several other Dime Lions’ establishments, could be bought for cheap and renovated. He’d always loved the idea of having one of his own gambling dens in the Lid.

But some bad things had been happening too, members from his gang were going missing, being tortured, beaten bloody and returned to him with alongside threats.  He had to guess it was angry Dime Lions who thought they could fill the hole he’d left, or possibly bring the Kaelish King (that’s what people were calling Pekka now) back. But they wanted revenge on Kaz and the Dregs first. This was less about information than sending a message and getting event. Oh, how the tables have turned, he thought wistfully.

He was partially grateful Inej was no longer a member, at least she wasn’t at risk. But it would be very useful to have his spider’s help with this.

Kaz’s spectacle with their leader certainly hadn’t gone unnoticed by the rest of the barrel either, he knew that. But he’d been furious to see it in The Ketterdam Print along with a blurry photograph of him. It wasn’t particularly harmful. That didn’t mean he liked this kind of publicity. But the stadwatch certainly weren’t about to get involved in a gang war. Even if they saw him in public they weren’t cocky enough to try and pinch him.

The Dregs’ reputation had soared in the past months, He’d taken on new members and seen extra fear in people’s eyes when he walked down the street. However, it had seemed so much better when Inej was there with him, and he paced listlessly in his office as he awaited her arrival.

She still had to dock, unload and manage to think of a good reason to pick her way through the barrel to come see him without arousing any suspicion. It’d been hours, and he still paced back and forth. He was used to using Per Haskell’s old office now, though it had been a bit strange at first. It was a proper desk, with a high-backed leather chair, and the room itself was much larger than his attic one. He still slept up there, but it was an improvement to have his own space on the ground floor.

Then he felt it, the nearly imperceptible shift in the air as Inej entered the room and shut the door without a sound. He did his best to seem at ease as he turned to face her, leaning casually against the desk. He was about to crack a smile before he caught sight of her expression, solemn and cold. Her eyes were heavy with guilt and remorse and the horrid weight on an unspoken confession. He stared at her, allowing the silence to stretch out like a rope between them as she gathered her words.

Her lips parted and she blew out a shaky breath, closing her eyes for a moment, before she said hoarsely, “we lost half our crew.” In simply speaking the words, tears had begun to well in her eyes. She was clearly cutting open wounds that had just started to heal.

The silence stretched thinner, agonizingly taught as her words sunk in. He knew how much pain she was in. Inej may not have known those people for long, but she did not take lost lives delicately. Not when they had been under her command.

Tears started to stream down her cheeks, and that hurt him. Inej did not cry, he’d only seen her do it once, but she’d been joyful as she wrapped her arms around her parents. This was different, there was pain and shame in the lines of her face, and for once he understood it. Loss was a terrifying thing, so sudden and strange, but it was especially awful to lose people who put their faith in you. It was too easy to think they blamed you for it. But whatever happened wasn’t her fault, he knew that.

“It’s alright, it happens. Inej, it wasn’t your fault,” he croaked, “I know what its like to lose a crew, and whatever you think it was it wasn’t—”

“I killed eleven, fucking, people, Kaz, it’s not alright,” her voice was laced with bitter sorrow, “and it was my fault.” Her hands curled tightly at her sides, “they listened to me, t-they trusted me, and I was irresponsible. I failed them, and now I can’t bring them back. How is that alright?”

“They took the risk, didn’t they?” He spoke plainly, didn’t try to coddle her, she’d only despise him for that. She nodded. “Then how is it your fault? They knew their chances going out this late in the year, and I told you something might happen.” She stilled, her gaze sharpened on him.

“It wasn’t a storm,” Inej said lowly.

“What happened?”

“It was another ship, a slaver ship.” His eyes widened in shock, she wasn’t supposed to be attacking any ships on this mission, just spying out a slaver outpost in the southern colonies.

“Did they, attack you?” He asked hesitantly.

She shook her head, sighing shakily before she continued, “no I—I just, I knew, the ship Kaz.” Her gaze fell to the floor and realization struck him before she spoke the words, “it was the same ship that brought me to Kerch. I had to do it. I thought we could handle it, and I was wrong. They killed half our crew and they didn’t even have any prisoners. We didn’t even save anyone, and I failed them.”

He was disappointed, and she could probably tell. She’d seemed so hopeful when she bounded off into the snow three weeks ago, but now she seemed to regret even mentioning a ship.

“You’re not the only one who makes mistakes Inej,” he said, “I’ve lost crews because of stupid decisions and I’ll never forget that. You can’t learn how to lead if you don’t screw it up first.”

She wiped her tears away with her sleeve, and sighed, “This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” That really was a lot to say considering how much she’d suffered through these past few years, he’d marveled at her strength but he couldn’t stand that this had nearly been enough to break her.

“I know it is,” he moved closer to her, “but you have to be the strong one when everything goes to shit, don’t ever let your crew see you like this.” That was the first thing he’d learned about leadership, no matter how bad things got people would always look up to their leader for direction, and security. If he panicked, everyone would start to panic. It simply wasn’t an option.

She reached out cautiously and took his ungloved hand. He slowly let their fingers entwine, and she smiled weakly.

“I want to find that ship and turn it to splinters,” she muttered.

Then he smiled too, “I think I can help with that.”

“Oh, how can you?” she asked.

“When you came to Kerch, you didn’t go on an auction block right? Heleen was waiting for you.”

“Yes,” she confirmed.

“Then she must have been informed by whoever picked you up,” he explained, “I’d bet good money Heleen knows who owns that ship. I’m sure with a little spy work you and I can figure it out.” He hesitated, “she’s got a lot of sources though. It may take a while, but I think we can handle it.”

She squeezed his hand and her smile widened. “Thank you, I’d be glad to stay in the city awhile if it means we can find the ship.”

“Who knows? Maybe we’ll burn down the whole menagerie.”

She actually giggled, “oh I’d really like that.” They stood there quietly for a bit, just enjoying each other’s company after so much time apart. Then suddenly a call had sounded from outside.

“Boss!” screeched Anika, “there’s another one!” Oh saints dammit not now, he thought frantically, releasing Inej’s hand and snatching his gloves from the desk. He pulled them on, grabbed his cane and sprinted out the door, offering no explanation but Inej followed him regardless.

 He threw open the Slat’s front door and pushed past the crowd of people. There lying on the ground was wiry Roeder, the boy he’d been using as a spider. He’d been absent for days, but that was nothing unusual. His face was swollen and bruised, body broken and bloody, but most important was his eyes. Inej was standing next to him and she looked in horror and confusion, one hand covering her mouth. They were nowhere to be found,

In their places were silver dimes

“Kaz what’s going on?” Inej asked.

Tag List:  @whydoineedtowriteanamehere @celestial-melodyy @literary-nerd  @otherworldsivelivedin @hysteriaas @august-cabin7 @wylansflute @ashleyking03 @thequeenofeveything @the-regal-warrior @sassydefendorflower @jxsperfahey @the-jennster @lonep55 @lupineteddy @gutsgaskarth  @city-of-fae @thewoofster @peach-sm 

[simple-skarsgard]

Boy Next Door

Pairing: Zeitgeist/Axel x Reader Prompt: Axel gives you a ride home on a rainy night A/n: Inspired by this ask and this one . . For the sake of my mental health I will write it as Axel instead of Zeitgeist cause that name lmao. But ENJOY.

The town sweetheart. That’s what everyone had learned to know you by. A young, beautiful girl who owned her own bakery and was the sweetest person to ever have existed. 

You were familiar with just about everyone in the town of Royal Creek. And just about everyone was familiar with you. 

The scent of your strawberry scones haunted the atmosphere of the tone and drove everyone insane with cravings. Your scones were what you had grown to be infamous for and not a day went by where you didn’t sell at least a dozen. Of course you had more than just one specialty, but the scones- some would argue- were to die for.

Your shop was small and nobody helped you run it, only because you felt you didn’t need much help. It hardly got busy and the baking was something you felt you could do and would actually prefer to do on your own. Baking away your troubles while singing your heart out to your favorite cd’s and albums. It was your own little safe haven and it was your heaven on earth.

Although you were known for your baking skill and your kindness, you were also known for being the most ‘odd’. How? It all stemmed for the fact everyone knew about your crush. Everyone except your crush himself.

Axel Cluney. He was an odd character to say the least. He was tall and lankly figure with light brown hair and emerald eyes. Dressed in usually tank tops with baggy jeans due to his line of work in his own body shop. Which actually happened to be right next door to your bakery. 

The mixture of oil and strawberry never went well, but a part of you liked it and didn’t mind it in the slightest.

Axel wasn’t anything short of a good guy, but he definitely stuck out like a sore thumb and it was a wonder to people how a well-kept girl like yourself could be attracted to such a messy-looking guy like him.

You’d had all kinds of guys come and approach you, but your heart felt like it belonged to none other than Axel himself. Yet it seemed everyone but Axel was interested in being more than friends with you.

There had been a few times you’d pass by his body shop and catch him underneath a car without a shirt and covered in grease and sweat, not being able to find it easy to tear your gaze away. You’d be lying if you said the way he rolled out form under the car before wiping his greasy hands off on his clothing didn’t swoon you just a bit.

You’d even stare at his interesting selection of tattoos, always trying to keep an eye out if he’d added to his body art, but you could tell it made him uncomfortable the couple of times he caught you. You had no choice but to try and hold your ground and not stare at them.. but you couldn’t help yourself. 

He was different and intriguing.

You were just closing up shop when the rain began to pour down from the heavens, earning a small frustrated groan from you. You normally drove to work, but seeing as your car had broken down on your driveway that morning, you’d been forced to walk to your little bakery. And not you’d be forced to walk the same path back home, only now your disadvantage was it was pouring cats and dogs and you were without an umbrella.

The little hoodie you had with you would be little to no help but you slung it over your head in an attempt at a make-shift umbrella.

As predicted, the rain soaked through your sweater faster than you anticipated so you saw no point in trying. You tied the sweater around your waist and mentally cursed yourself for deciding to wear your brand new white thin-fabric dress that day. The material stuck to your skin like it was clinging for dear life and left a quite transparent view of your breasts.. And of course you’d chosen to wear a white bra to match with your dress.. The transparency was embarrassing to say the least so you crossed your arms with your hands cupping over your breasts in an attempt to keep your modesty. 

Beginning your long walk home, you could feel yourself wanting to cry at how cold you’d become in a matter of minutes. It was going to be at least another forty minutes til you got to the comfort of your home. 

You’d made it past a few blocks, noticing the empty streets and lights going off on every home you passed. It was getting late and with not even so much as a car in sight, the lonesome road was only serving to make you paranoid. 

The echoing of your heels crashing on the pavement with every step was all you had until the sound of a motorcycle’s engine approaching down the direction you’d came from made your heart beat faster. You try to calm your anixety and say nothing would happen to you, but being a woman out this late all alone was never a safe bet.

The roaring engine grew closer until it was on your block and you prayed it would zoom past you and let the person continue along with their night and let you continue with yours, but to your dismay you heard the sound slowing down as its approach to you grew closer.

Tightening your hold on yourself, you try to walk faster and keep your eyes glued to the pavement to avoid eye contact with anyone to avoid problems if possible. But stealing a glance up you could see the motorcyclist in the corner of your eye slowing down, driving at your walking pace until you stopped in your tracks.

The cyclist only inching just feet forward before they too came to a halt. 

The fear had settled deep within your stomach and you tried to quickly think of an escape route. You watched the cyclist who was unmoving and with their back still to you, you noticed your reflection was in their rear view mirror. And not a bone in your body denied the fact they were looking right at you.

Swallowing the lump in your throat you boldly continue you your walk, trying to silently pray to God nothing would go wrong.

You were just about to make it past the cyclist without any action but then the figure climbed off the bike and turned towards you. You kept walking, wanting for them to do nothing and let you be. But they strode toward you and just when they were far too close for your comfort- which was non existent- you caught sight of who was in your presence. 

“You look cold,” Axel smiled at you as he was slipping off his leather jacket and offering it you with an extended arm

You only blinked, not being able to believe what was happening. After moments of processing your shock you reach over and take the jacket, slipping it onto yourself and not being able ignore the mixture of musty oily with cologne. You smiled a little and tightened the jacket around yourself in an attempt to further bury yourself in the scent.

“Why are you alone this late? And walking in this rain?” he asked.

“My car broke down this morning and I had to walk it to work.. so now I have to walk back home,” you folded your lips, anticipation growing inside you that you were actually talking to your crush.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he half-laughed,”I would’ve gone over and had it fixed for you in no time.”

“I didn’t want to bother,” you admitted.

He shook his head, a half smile playing on his lips. You truly were too nice and the rumors of your kindness were anything but lies.

‘Can I offer you a ride home?” the question came out fast, like a small bomb had exploded in him and he was holding his breath trying to get it out.

“Oh? uh n-no it’s okay- I-I really don’t- I don’t mind the walk, really.” You were doing your best to sound convincing but you couldn’t help wanting to accept his offer, but caught between not wanting to burden him and also wanting to be with him just a bit longer.

His eyebrow quirked at you before he shook his head,”No, I’m not having it. You’re not walking in this rain.”

He turned away to grab a helmet from his bike and hold it out to you, insisting you take it. Biting your lip as you contemplated what really would be the damage from one ride, you slipped on the helmet.

You didn’t fail to catch the hint of a smirk on his lips before he nodded for you to follow. He mounted the bike and waited for a moment before you securely got on behind him..

“Put your arms around me,” he shouted over the running engine that he never bothered to turn off to begin with.

Reluctantly you do as your told and feel the burning on your face when he gives your hand a little squeeze, only tightening your grasp on him.

“Hang on tight!”

He revved the engine and zoomed off, hearing your squeak of surprise pass through your lips and feeling your grip around his waist become tighter.

Axel smiled wide and only sped faster not being able to resist that your laughter and delight anytime he did, made him feel just a little more attracted to you. He only ever slowed down when you would point to make a certain turn onto another street, but it wasn’t too long a pause before he would speed up again. And every time without fail, his smile grew at hearing your laughter and enjoyment echo in his ears along with the sound of his bike.

Finally arriving at your home, he parked his bike in the driveway and glanced at your car.

“I could come by in the morning and have a look at it if you want me to,” he scratched his cheek.”It wouldn’t be a bother at all if it meant you’d have a safe way of getting to and from work.”

You smiled as he walked you to your porch steps, his height towering over you and instead of feeling intimidated, you felt safe.

“I’ll repay you somehow, I promise.”

You both chuckled but his laugh faltered some before he cleared his throat.

“I have something in mind..”

“I’m ears.”

He fiddled with his hands, cracking his knuckles and tugging rubbing them nervously. You wondered if it was because he was so used to working with them that it was the only way he could release his nervous tension. You had the same quality. Keeping your hands busy with the constant baking was your own translation of anxious release. 

“How about you.. join me for coffee tomorrow after work?” he sounded hopeful and slightly eager at the thought.

But upon seeing your surprise at the question, his confidence crashed and he took a step back, “Nevermind, it was just an offer. Nothing serious.”

“Wait!” you grabbed his hand to which he stared down at, being surprised himself at the contact, but not complaining.

His eyes trail from his hand in yours up to your own and he was greeted with your kind smile.

“I’d love to go for coffee.”

The eagerness he’d had moments before ignited in his eyes, but was more subtle upon the smile on his lips.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

You leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek,”See you tomorrow.”

A/n: Short and cute! I am pretty happy with this little one-shot! I would love to write about this character more, but I think I’ll wait til Deadpool 2 release so I know his characteristics better. Hope you all liked it!

*****ALSO. IF YOU GUYS LIKE THIS ENOUGH, REQUEST A SECOND PART THAT WOULD BE SMUT AND I’LL WRITE IT.*****

Tags: @jadelynlace

[peonymoss]

“Mansfield Park”: Vol. 1, Chapters 1-5

Some quick takes:

Chapter 1

The discussion of the Price sisters and their expectations is so very transactional: how much husband can a pretty face and seven thousand pounds expect to fetch?

Alas, Miss Ward sits another six years on the market. Did she set her sights too high, a victim of inflation? Or are potential suitors looking for more than just a pretty face and seven thousand pounds? The part about her being “obliged to be attached” herself cracks me up — the “obliged” suggests resignation (nobody else came along, and nobody else is likely too; better go with Mr. Norris) and the “to be attached” is so utterly passive, as if someone else is sticking her to him like a button to a coat — button and coat are interchangeable to each other — there’s no volition suggested on her part at all, not even her act of accepting him. (And she couldn’t even land him on her own; sounds like her brother-in-law set them up)

never wrote to her family on the subject till actually married — hee! And, Gretna Green? Mrs. Norris’s “spirit of activity” — such a contrast to that “being attached” —oh dear, and that part about “as Mrs. Norris could not possibly keep to herself” — tattletale.

(I could just spend this whole chapter cracking up at Mrs. Norris’s characterization.)

Chapter 2

Poor Fanny. And she’s brought all the way up from Portsmouth to Northampton by servants. (Thus, Lady B. and Mrs. Norris deprive themselves of the opportunity to physically see their sister after eleven years.) A lot of attention to her looks, and she’s only ten. And then Mrs. Norris harping into her ear about how she ought to Be Grateful, and Fanny’s taking it all to heart and feeling guilty about her (natural) unhappiness.

Chuckling at Maria thinking she’ll know everything she needs to know when she’s seventeen.

Chapter 3

I love the way JA presents Tom’s mental list in its ordered points.

Another big chapter for Mrs. Norris, between her choice of house and her opinions of the Grants. “They had their faults, and Mrs. Norris soon found them out.”

Sir Thomas means well, but he just doesn’t get people. What a way to say good-bye to Fanny. 

Chapter 4

Clever Edmund, figuring out a way around his mother’s procrastination and his aunt’s determination to keep Fanny from having something for her own sake.

I think Rushworth is the richest suitor in any of the six novels, with his twelve thousand to Darcy’s ten.

So Mary and Henry have something in common with Fanny: they were raised by an aunt and uncle. Their aunt and uncle are more affectionate to them than Fanny’s are to her.

Chapter 5

More of that transactional approach to marriage: Mrs. Grant has decided who Henry will marry; Mary’s decided who she wouldn’t mind marrying; Henry’s decided that he wants both Bertram sisters to like him. Some of it’s tongue in cheek, but....

I was really struck on this reading at how lacking in empathy all the Ward sisters seem to be, and how they either don’t understand or pretend they don’t understand human attachment — specifically, a ten-year-old girl’s attachment. People in this society may have been more accustomed to long, necessary separations (the Bertram boys going to boarding school, Lt. Price and then William going to sea) but still, people are people, and people naturally grow attached to homes and to other people, and they suffer when those attachments are disrupted.

So when Fanny first arrives, it takes a while for it to finally occur to Mrs. Norris that this ten-year-old child might be homesick: ”with all its faults, it was her home....” But Mrs. Norris is focused on the material advantages of Mansfield Park: “....and she cannot as yet understand how much she has changed for the better.”  She doesn’t seem to worry about Fanny missing the people she’s left behind.

(Edmund gets it, though. When he catches Fanny crying on the stairs, he realizes she misses her mother — and he praises her for it. He asks about her brothers and sisters; he helps her write to William, and honors her connection to William by joining in it himself.)

Later on, when Lady Bertram is talking to Fanny about moving in with Mrs. Norris, she says, “It can make very little difference to you, whether you are in one house or the other.” One house is as good as another, because they’re all better than Portsmouth, right?  It doesn’t occur to Lady Bertram that Fanny might miss her and the rest of the Bertram family. 

And then there’s Mrs. Price. She favors the boys; she wonders why her sisters want to take in Fanny when they could have one of the boys; and at the end of Chapter 2 we learn that “nobody at home seemed to want [Fanny.]”

(Interesting that in the name of helping Mrs. Price, Mrs. Norris fixes on taking a child who doesn’t need as much constant attention and who is able to help out around the house. But then Mrs. Price goes along with it. Maybe she didn’t recognize how helpful Fanny was.)

And what does Fanny want? She wants to feel like she’s important to somebody. Back in Portsmouth she’d been “important” to her brothers and sisters “as play-fellow, instructress, and nurse.” In Chapter 3 Fanny tells Edmund “...it would be delightful to feel myself of consequence to any body!” And in Chapter 4, when Maria and Julia are out in society, Fanny enjoys being useful to Lady Bertram.

It’s interesting how the life of Mansfield Parsonage is intimately intertwined into the life of Mansfield Park. First we have the Norrises - Mr. Norris is a friend of Sir Thomas, a good enough friend that Sir Thomas gives him the living, and Mrs. Norris is Lady Bertram’s sister. The Norrises are connected by blood and friendship to the Park (and Mrs. Norris is always over at the Park and in the Bertrams’ business.)

The connection between the Park and the Parsonage should have become even closer with Edmund’s taking the living, but instead the living is bought by the Grants (instead of being given to a friend or a son). The initial connection is commercial.

The Grants become connected to the Park — they socialize with the Bertrams; Mrs. Norris brings gossip about them to the Park — and then Mrs. Grant’s relatives start becoming more deeply intertwined into life at the Park. Mrs. Grant, of course, hopes that through marriage the Grants and Crawfords will be as close - or closer - to the Park as the Norrises were. 

Meanwhile, the residents of the Parsonage don’t exactly seem to be models of conjugal felicity. Was Mrs. Norris telling the truth about Mr. Norris being in poor health? (It seems that he was not an old man when he died.)  JA takes note of the age gap between the Grants; while he indulges his love of eating, is Dr. Grant neglecting other obligations? Two marriages with fussy, needy husbands — and with no children. Both Mrs. Norris and Mrs. Grant strike me as being bored and lonely. Mrs. Norris discharges her excess energy by going over to the Park to meddle  help her sister with her children; Mrs. Grant decorates her sitting room, tries to keep her husband happy, and is delighted to finally have company.

Mrs. Norris! I could write a book about how awful she is, and how precisely JA shows us how awful she is.

Sir Thomas is otherwise a sensible man; why did he marry Maria Ward, and why does he permit Mrs. Norris to have such influence over Mansfield Park?

Why did Mrs. Norris fixate on bringing Fanny to Mansfield Park?  It would have made more sense for she and Mr. Norris to take in one of the younger boys: it would have relieved Mrs. Price of the care of one of the younger children, and it would have provided the Norrises with an heir and a potential support in their old age. (Of course, it would also mean genuine generosity on their part, especially on Mrs. Norris’s part, and genuine helpfulness to Mrs. Price.)

Some spoilery thoughts behind the cut:

I would love to know how exactly Miss Maria “captivated” Sir Thomas. Money isn’t his only consideration — he’s not a fortune hunter — was her beauty really enough for him to overlook her indolence? Or did that trait emerge later?

That first sentence of the book, with its emphasis on MIss Maria’s gaining the “comforts and consequences of a handsome house and a large income” — foreshadowing of Maria Bertram’s focus on Sotherton and the house in town she so craved?

[itswhatimreallythinking]

My boyfriend can't be this cute (guidelines to dating Lance McClain)

My gift to @tamaraneankori. Merry Christmas to you girl (hope it’s still christmas at you place). You ask for a fluffy fic and this is the sweetest thing I ever written. It came out longer than I expected (happens to all my fic actually) but I had so much fun writing this. Hope it lives up to your expectation.  

@klance2017secretsanta

AO3

Summary: Keith have a cute boyfriend

A.K.A Keith’s constant dilemma of battling his raging hormones while his boyfriend remain oblivious

A.K.A Keith is doomed

From the first moment, he laid eyes on the blue-eyed boy across the campus ground Keith knows he was doomed. From tantalizing caramel skin to a dazzling smile, and sparkling eyes that he wants to keep looking into for the rest of his life, Keith had fallen hard.

 And the worst part is the boy, Lance McClain, have no freaking idea.

 Despite his flirty words and affectionate behavior, Lance is actually very dense when it comes to people’s affection towards himself.

 Many times, Keith just want to forgo all the courting (that all went unnoticed) and kiss the Cuban till he gets the memo. If Hunk didn’t constantly remind him that Lance like romantic gesture he might do just that. It’s not easy though. From the number of times Pidge came close to ripping her hair off, he guessed that she too is close to saying fuck it and shove both of them into a locked room.

 So, it’s understandable when he believes that Hunk is sent from heaven to be his impulse control and the best wingman ever. Without him Keith would have bombed this a long time ago.

 But he didn’t.

 After months of pining and extreme courting, (he once brave a snowstorm to get Lance McDonald’s because he happens to mention in the group text that he have a sudden craving, even Pidge was impressed) Lance finally get the message and reciprocate his feelings.

 It was the best day of his life.

 Yes, Shiro, it’s better than the day the papers finally went through and they really became a real family. Stop looking at him like that. Go complain to someone who cares. Who? Oh, he don’t know, Allura maybe? Of course, he’s still mad. His ‘brother’ decide to ditched his birthday party because he rather ‘Netflix and chill’ with his girlfriend for god sake. DON’T TOUCH ME!

 Anyway, that day was the best day of his life, but also the start of his unending dilemma. He’s not sure he’s going to live past 50 if this continues. Not with the constant spike in blood pressure and head trauma.

 Being friends allow Keith to spent time with the Cuban, while this is good it’s not enough. Keith always wants more. They said to be careful of what you wish for and only now did he come to fully understands that saying. Because, if he thought Lance was cute while being his friend he is so not ready for the level that is of the boyfriend.

 He can’t count how many times he bangs his head against hard surface just to keep his emotions under control.

 Thus to save himself from early demise he constructs up a list of guidelines that will (somewhat) make his life as Lance’s boyfriend (and to be the best boyfriend ever) a little easier.

 #1 Be more open-minded

He had said this many times. Lance is gorgeous. Anyone who disagrees can fight him on that. Even Pidge once admit it to them in secret (and also threaten them with a lifetime of suffering if anyone as much as hint it to the Cuban). So it’s quite understandable when someone tries to make a move on his boyfriend.

 More than once that Lance’s friendliness got taken out of context as an invitation to sweep the Cuban off his feet. Now that will not do. Sweeping Lance off his feet, literally and figuratively, is Keith’s job.

 He’d hold his tongue when they were still friends but now he’s not going to let it slide. Many times it became a fist fight (if they’re a guy and of course he always wins) because talking doesn’t work with these people.

 Lance always gave him an earful while tending to the cuts and bruises, asking why he feels the need to start a fight, that he was never like this before. He keeps mum during all of it but after months of coaxing and disappointed looks, he cracked.

 “Because you’re you and I’m me that’s why.” The answer rendered the brunette speechless and Keith to gather himself for a bit to soldier on.

 “Lance do you realized how amazing you are? You… you’re beautiful and smart and friendly and hundreds of other positive traits. I’m unsocial and hot-headed and…and I still don’t understand why you agreed to go out with me.” Lance stared at him with a blank look on his face, Keith turned his head away. “When I saw those guys, with their slick hair and perfect teeth…and money to spoil you the way you deserved. I just felt so threatened, so scared, that you would suddenly realize that you can do a lot better than me and-”

 “Leave?”

 Even if that what he’s about to say hearing it coming from Lance’s mouth made his heart dropped to his feet. He heard the brunette heave a tired sigh and he grinds his teeth. He really shouldn’t say all that, now Lance will know what a loser he is. A sharp flick to his forehead made him yelp in surprise. Looking up he was met with a murderous glare. Lance is furious.

 “I could not believe what you just said,” the words were drawn out in a snarl that reminds Keith of a predator. The Cuban got right up in his face, their nose touching, “you see me that shallow? That a pocket full of money and a few nice words could lure me away?”

 “NO! I would never. It’s just that…”

 Lance pinched the bridge of his nose, muttered a few words in Spanish, and if Keith has ears they’d be drooping right now.

 He didn’t hear Lance take a huge calming breath but he did feel it when two warm hands cradled his face and then he’s looking into a pair of deep azure eyes.

 “Now you listen to me Keith,” gone were the terrifying snarl replace with a voice so soft his heart shuddered in his chest. “To me, you’re the most passionate and loyal person I’ve ever met. You’re kind-hearted and so strong, and may God have mercy on those who dared lay a finger on any of us because I know you will do whatever it takes to protect us. You have no idea how happy I am when I know you love me too.” Keith’s breath hitched when Lance lay his forehead against his, looking at him so adoringly it makes him want to cry.

 “I love you so much, Keith. I want us to be together for the rest of my life and I hope you feel the same way.”

 Instead of a verbal answer, Keith pulled Lance in for a kiss, desperate and sweet and full of promises. When they part Lance give him a soft smile before gaining a serious look. “I don’t know where you get those silly notions about yourself from. So, I need you to write down all the names of every person who ever made you feel that way so that I can have a private chat with each of them.”

 Keith burst out laughing.

 After that, whenever he saw someone flirting with his boyfriend he would step up beside the brunette and laced their fingers together. If that is not enough to drive them away the kiss (tongue included) usually does.

 #2 Accept that you will always come after Hunk

Halfway through the second year of college, they decide to move in together. By moving in he means moving into the recently available room across from Lance’s old one that he shared with Hunk. Shay is replacing Lance next semester when her contract expires.

 They were in the middle of unpacking (mostly his stuff since Lance just has to carry his from across the hall) when the Cuban's phone rang. He was not paying attention but after hearing the sound of the phone hitting the floor and seeing Lance’s devastated face, Keith wished he did.

 Hunk was involved in a hit and run case. Thank god the other party was a motorcycle. The Hawaiian got a concussion, twisted ankle, a broken arm and dozens of cuts and bruises. But he was fine. The smile he gave them the moment Lance burst into the room is proof enough. Lance has to refrain from jumping from sheer relief.

 Hunk has to stay in the hospital for another 3-4 days to make sure that nothing is critical. Lance demand he be allowed to stay with him. Hunk also begs the doctor to let him stay.

 He shared a look with Shay then. The large Samoan girl had known them longer than he does and was the one who constantly assured him that there is absolutely nothing going on between Hunk and Lance. They’re just really really close.

 He looks at Lance smoothing down Hunk’s hair who’s giving a sweet smile and have to bite his tongue. Shay has been doing this far longer than him. If she can then he can too.

 After Lance grabbed his stuff and leave for the hospital again, Keith is left alone to looked around at the messy room. More than half of the boxes were still unopened and he couldn’t be bothered to continue. It’s not moving in together if he’s the only one unpacking.

 He has a quick late dinner and went to bed. Before he can drift off his phone rang.

 “Hey, mi amore, you’re asleep yet?” Lance's face is illuminated by the light of the screen while Hunk snores softly in the background. Keith smile tiredly and they spent their first night together apart, talking till he fell asleep at the phone.

 Lance called 5-7 time a day, once in the morning, once before going to bed and anytime in between. Whenever his thought drifted to the messy room (boxes still at the same place where he left them) his phone will be blowing up with messages from Lance saying how much he missed him. With the hospital visits, constant phone calls and text, Keith didn’t have the time to be lonely.

 The day Hunk was released Keith came home to a candlelit room and homemade dinner. Seeing the brunette standing in their room again made everything right with the world. After dinner, Lance took him by the hand and led him to their bedroom.

 The sight of caramel skin scantily clad in delicate white lace undergarment made it suddenly hard to breathe.

 “How about we start breaking in the bed,” voice dripping like honey with kisses just as sweet, Keith lost himself in Lance.

 Yes, he thought, that is an excellent idea.

 #3 Ignore the morning complaints

With his sunny personality, one would think Lance is a morning person. Oh, how wrong they were. A morning Lance is a cranky Lance and you don’t want to approach him before he has his morning coffee.

 Keith untangles himself from the bundle of blankets and clinging long limbs. He drowsily stretches out his body and drops a kiss on his still sleeping boyfriend’s cheek before making his way to the bathroom.

 Lance was just stumbling into the bathroom when he got out of the shower. The other was wearing the same pair of sweatpants he was wearing yesterday. Well, he was wearing it before Keith decide that he look better without it. Bite and kiss marks littered tanned body, couple that with tousled hair and a slight limp in his steps, Lance looked thoroughly fucked.

 “Wipe that smug look off your face Kogane”, Lance spit out venomously, “this is all because of you.”

 If this was half a year ago Keith would have been hurt. Now, he took it in stride.

 “You weren’t complaining last night”, he invaded Lance personal space, “or do I have to remind you.” He blew teasingly into the Cuban’s ear and quickly move away to avoid the other’s hand from swatting him like a fly.

 “Get away from me!” The Korean barked out a laugh and walk out of the bathroom. He searched around in the closet with Lane still going on in the background.

 “Look at all these marks, and after I told you to go lightly on the neck because I have a presentation today. I can’t cover all these with make-up. Now I have to wear a turtleneck, in summer. Who wears a freaking turtleneck in the summer? A douche that’s who. I’m going to look like Steve fucking Jobs trying to sell an iPhone.”

 Keith laughs at the last comment. Pulling a shirt over his head he realized that Lance had gone quiet. He moved to a blind spot the mirror can’t reflect and peek inside.

 Lance is staring at himself in the mirror with a soft smile on his lips. Fingers lightly tracing the marks Keith left behind from one to the other with a look of utter fondness in his eyes.

 Is someone screaming? He’s definitely hearing screaming. Oh never mind, that’s just him. Screaming. Internally. BECAUSE HIS BOYFRIEND IS FUCKING ADORABLE!

 Keith felt the blood rushing to his face…and the lower region.

 Maybe if they’re real quick? No no no nope. Lance would kill him if his perfect attendance is ruined because Keith can’t keep it in his pants. He took a couple of calming breaths and announce that he’ll be outside making breakfast.

 “Bacon and sunny side up for me, please. Love you.”

 DAMMIT LANCE! YOU’RE MAKING THIS REALLY HARD.

 #4 Always have an extra set of contacts at hand

“Aww, I’ve run out of contacts.”

 That was the comment that turned Keith’s normal weekend into a nightmare. He poked his head into their bedroom to see Lance rummaging in his side of the bed nightstand drawer. He walked closer to see if there’s anything he could do to help.

 “AH HAH!” Keith's mouth went dry when Lance plopped a pair of glasses on his nose. Of course, Lance has a pair of emergency glasses, anyone who wears contacts does, it’s only common sense. But, damn, why is it getting hot in here?

 Since they planned to stay in and study for the upcoming exam week, they postponed the contact lens shopping to this evening when they go out for dinner instead of now. Sitting on opposite end of the dining table, books and pens scattered messily on the surface, they lost themselves in their reading.

 Actually, it’s only Lance who’s reading.

 Keith is busy gawking at his boyfriend.

 The more he stared the wilder his imagination became.

 Lance is an honored student who got roped into tutoring the delinquent Keith after class. They’re going over everything Keith learned that day. Lance was patient while Keith kept getting angrier at his own failure.

 “This is useless. I’m never going to get it, you should stop wasting your time with me.” Keith sulked in his seat while Lance looks at him calculatingly. The honored student’s glasses flash as he got up and got right in Keith’s face. The Cuban’s arm was on either side of his chair caging him in. The sharp glint that Keith had never seen in the good-natured boy’s eyes before sent a jolt of electric down his spine.

 “How about we try a different method,” Lance whispered against his lips before closing the distance. The kiss was hot and wild and ended quicker than he would have like. Chasing after the departing lips a finger stopped him in his track.

 “Ah, ah,” the Cuban said in a sing-song voice, “only if you get the next question right.”

 Lance sneezed and Keith snapped out of his daydream. Lance smile sheepishly at him and he quickly looks down not wanting him to see the blush on his face. Keith can only get a paragraph in when he turns the page and saw a picture of a team of doctors on the other side.

 Lance is a doctor and the owner of a small clinic. Keith is a police officer who often comes in to have Lance take care of his wounds of the day.

 It was after midnight when Keith stumble into the facility with blood down his arms. Lance's face paled and he orders the officer to sit down on the bed while he rushed around gathering supplies, mouth complaining all the while.

 “He was holding a knife to the woman’s throat. What do you suggest me do then?”

 “Not offering yourself as a substitute would be the first step.” The doctor bites out harshly and Keith let it slide because he knows Lance was only worried about him. He took off his shirt as instructed and shiver when the cold air made contact with his skin. He bites down the hiss at each pierced of the needle just to keep the doctor from frowning any deeper.

 When the cut was stitched and wrapped up nicely Lance dip down to kiss tenderly at the bandages. Keith’s heart melts at the sight. His breath hitched when those lips glided up to mouthed at the old scar on his collarbone as he's pushed down onto the bed.

 “That one and this too. All because you have to be a hero. Coming here with blood all over yourself, always threatening to kill me with a heart attack.”

 “Sorry,” his take in a shuddering breath when the brunettes bite at his neck.

 Lance climb on top on him and settle himself on his stomach, pants gone leaving him in only his briefs. Keith wants nothing more than to run his hands down those smooth thighs.

 “Nope. It won’t heal if you keep moving it.” Lance hold down his wrist gently as he looks down at Keith. Hooded eyes from behind the glasses met his own hungry ones.

 “Now be a good boy and lay still while I punished you for scaring me.”

 The doctor grinds down on his crotch and Keith shiver in anticipation.

 A sharp cold against his cheek abruptly ended his fantasy. Lance smiled at him cheekily eyes dancing with mirth from behind those damned glasses.

 “Here”, the brunette hand him a can of soda before popping his own. Tanned fingers caressed his shirt, looking him up and down appreciatively. Lance did buy it for him after all.

 “It suits you.”

 Suits

 Lance and Keith are high profile lawyers working for a different firm who often handle the same case. This time Keith is the defender while Lance is the prosecutor, both going neck-to-neck, not backing down an inch.

 Keith can’t remember how he ends up sprawl on the bed underneath Lance but he’s not complaining.

 The Cuban looks downright sexy in that form-fitting deep navy suits that accentuate his eyes behind those clear frames. One tanned hand combing through soft brown strands while another slowly pulled off the tie. Keith swallowed thickly. His eyes follow as pink tongue dart out to lick their owner’s lips seductively.

 Lance give him a vicious grin promising one hell of a good time, “you’ve been a very naughty boy, Keith.”

 Keith slammed his head on the table making Lance leaped away in surprised.

 Shit

 This is serious

 Also, why the hell is he always the bad one in those scenarios? Is he developing a new kink? Fuck, he is, isn’t he?

 “What the hell Keith!? Are you alright?” Lance is frantically checking his forehead (ow that hurts, he shouldn’t have done that). The close proximity with Glasses Lance makes him take a sharp breath. Before his brain can conjure up another fantasy he quickly dragged Lance towards the door.

 “Hey! What-where are we going? Keith!”

 “Contacts shopping. NOW!”

 #5 Endure the scratches

Lance is a scratcher. Whenever the Cuban is on the receiving end Keith will come out looking like he’s been in a fight with a vicious cat. Long thin red lines will adorn his back for days stinging irritatingly whenever he got sweaty.

 So, for the sake of trying out new stuff, Lance suggests they use handcuffs.

 Keith didn’t know he has a bondage kink until he saw his boyfriend naked and cuffed to the bedpost. The sight of the brunette writhing on the bed stir up something primal within him. That night he couldn’t get enough on Lance. Not that he ever had enough but that night was on a whole other level.

 Keith went to sleep thoroughly satisfied not noticing that Lance was less vocal than normal.

 He was eager to go again the next day. The thought of his restraint boyfriend plaguing him throughout the day. They barely made it to the bed before Keith was ripping off his clothes and Lance’s.

 He let out a blissful groan when he finally gets to enter the Cuban, but somehow he couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was missing. A sniffle pulled him out of his thought and his heart dropped when he saw tears running down Lance’s face.

 “No”, the brunette whimpered and fear grip at his heart.

 He hurt Lance

 He wants to die right now

 Keith quickly gets off him and tears spring to his eyes when he sees Lance weakly tugging at the restraint.

 “Lance,” he choked out past the lump in his throat, “baby, I’m so sorry.” He unlocked the cuffs and the brunette throw himself into Keith’s arms holding on tightly. Keith hugged back just as fierce, head burying in the crook of Lance’s shoulder, “I’m sorry I hurt you, Lance.”

 He felt the brunette shook his head, “no, you didn’t hurt me. It just…” Lance pushed away from him but Keith holds on tight not allowing the brunette to go far. “When I have that thing on, I can’t touch you.” He nuzzled Keith’s nose, “you’re right there but I feel so far away. I don’t like that.”

 “Then we’ll stop using it.” He kisses at the red mark on the brunette’s wrist apologetically.

 “But you like those handcuffs.”

 “Not enough to make you cry.” He lay the hand on his cheek nuzzling into it, “nothing is worth making you cry for.”

 Lance’s tears come back anew and his heart clenched, “I’m sorry Lance, please stop crying.” He kissed away the tears at the corner of those blue eyes he loves so much, “I never know what to do when you cry.”

 Their lips meet in a soft kiss, so sweet and loving and everything Keith wanted. When they joined together again as one, with Lance’s arms clinging to him, he finally understands what was missing. This is what missing. This connection, this intimacy, they always have when making love.

 His back is full of scratches again, but with Lance laying soft kisses on each one as an apology, Keith realized he don’t mind.

 #6 –

 “KEITH!” The owner of the name came back to his senses and look at the boy sitting beside him. Oh, they’re on a date right now, aren’t they? Keith kicked himself mentally. Before he could apologize Lance was already resting his forehead against his, looking at him with worried eyes. His heart hammered in his chest.

 “You’re a bit warm and you look kind of dazed. Let’s go home, we can do this another day.” The brunette tugged at his hand for him to stand up. Keith wants to protest, but after a bit of contemplation, decide against it. Who is he to say no to having Lance fuzzing over him. Also, if he plays his card right he’ll get to monopolized his boyfriend for the whole weekend. Now isn’t that a thought.

 Making their way home Keith lift up their joint and to lay a kiss on the back of Lance’s. The Cuban looked back at him with a fond smile, soft red splayed across his face.

 Keith fell in love all over again.

 He understands long ago that Lance is dangerous. Deadly so. He’s a lethal weapon tailored to bring Keith to his knees with only a smile. Trapping Keith within his blue eyes with no means of escape and he loves it. Lance could ask him for the moon and he swears he’ll find a way to give it to the brunette.

 Keith smiles happily as he watches his boyfriend flitted around the room, gathering blankets and pillows and piling it around him creating a comfortable nest on the sofa. He took hold of the bronzed wrist before its owner can disappear into the kitchen. He tugged lightly and Lance yelp as he falls into Keith’s waiting arms.

 Their lips gravitate towards each other. Languid and soft, he carefully pours his feelings into the kiss, and the next, and the one after that as well. He scoots closer to the backrest and Lance climb in beside him without protest. Smiling exasperatedly the brunette open up his arms and Keith tuck himself into them. He breathes the smell of Lance in deeply into his lungs and felt himself relax.

 “You’re spoilt. I’m spoiling you.” The Cuban lament half-heartedly as he lay soft kisses along the milky temple. Keith agreed by trailing kisses along the column of bronzed-colored throat, making pearls of laughter spill forth from Lance’s mouth.

 Listening to that wonderful sound while being encased in Lance’s arms Keith wondered if this is what happiness feels like.

 Yes

 It definitely is

[happy-meo]

Masquerade IV: The Dark Side (Jin x Reader x Tae) Part 1

While love may bring out the best in us, it could also bring out the worst.

And so the last saga begins...

** If you haven't read them already, please read the following BEFORE starting this story: Silver Spoon, Masquerade I, Masquerade II, Masquerade III, Masquerade 3.1 & 3.2 drabbles **

Summary: You were never lucky in love. Through disastrous dates, consistent unrequited crushes, and broken relationships, you've constantly been searching for someone to give you genuine love and romance. And through it all, one person had remained your constant shoulder to lean on. Although you had never seen his face, he had given you a sense of confidence and a place of comfort in Club Masquerade. The more times you've failed in love though, the more you realized that may be no one would ever choose you. However, one fateful encounter, thanks to your dog, made you want to hope one more time. Did fate bring you to the one who would finally end your streak of being broken-hearted? Or had the right guy been with you all along?

Jin x Reader x Tae (ft. previous Masquerade characters, Silver Spoon characters, & Got7 Jackson) Fluff, Smut, Angst, Romance Host Au, Cook!Jin, Vet!Tae, Bartender!Tae

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 (Finale)

A/N: And the new series is back! Thank you everyone for waiting so patiently! Sorry for the time lapse without updates. As I said, I experienced a little bit of a writer’s block, and I really wanted to this final installment justice. I had planned this series all together in the beginning, and I hadn’t expected so many people to love and anticipate the Masquerade series, so THANK YOU SO MUCH for allowing me to write all four parts and related Silver Spoon <33 ENJOY!

          Most people were brought up with the belief that being humble was respectful and how they should always act when receiving compliments. So much so that most people feel bashful when accepting praises; so much so that they begin to doubt compliments and any positive outlook on themselves, to the point where they begin to downplay their own strengths and focus on their weaknesses.

           But that wasn't the case with Jin.

           It was a meeting of Heaven and Hell when you first met. He was a ball of positivity and warmth, while you were cold and desolate. In your fit of desperation, you had run into Club Masquerade for relief, for any inkling of being loved, for comfort.

           And in his own odd way, Jin gave that to you.

           "Wow, you're a hot mess." He had chuckled as he grabbed your hand to lead you away from judgmental eyes.

           Your make-up was trailing down your cheeks, your hair was unkempt, and your eyes blood-shot from crying. It was another cliché story of being cheated on and dumped. Another episode of not feeling good enough.

           "I want a different person." You thought he was making fun of you.

           But he smiled as he led you into a room and stated, "Why? Because I called you hott?"

           "You said I'm a hot mess." You repeated.

           "Why do people automatically think that's a bad thing?" He laughed as he threw his jacket around your shoulders. "I think you're quite beautiful right now."

           You blushed and averted your eyes. "Stop lying."

           "Not anyone can rock smudged make up and crying their eyes out, while still managing to look good." He handed you tissues and a mirror. "Unless you're me of course."

           You looked at him incredulously. "You wear make-up?"

           "No. My face was sculpted by the gods." He stated seriously with a shrug. "I meant I make every emotion look fantastic."

           You couldn't help but laugh at his ridiculousness.

           "Ah, there's a smile." he grinned as he knelt in front of you. "Everyone should technically have a mask coming in here, but we'll keep this a secret between us."

           And your gray world gained a little more color when Jin came into your life.

           You had worked in the Seoul branch of the Min Company for years, seemingly as a shadow. You had been one of the only ones who saw Mr. Jung for who he really was in the beginning, while others gossiped about his crabby personality. You knew there was more to him than that. But your crush was quickly hurtled towards the amicable and openly flirtatious Mr. Park. Although he claimed to have a girlfriend, you couldn't stop your feelings. Even if you felt ridiculous, you wanted to be close to him, wanted to get to know him.

           Then he brought his girlfriend to the company party and to say you were crushed would be an understatement. You left the party early and ran to Club Masquerade once again.

           But you continued to persist, hoping that he would notice you if you made yourself ever so present in his life. And that's when you decided to frequent the cafe where he always got his coffee from, something you had noticed from close observation.

           "Mr. Park?"

           Jimin turned, surprised.

           "Oh my gosh. Hi!" You spotted his girlfriend at the counter. "Mr. Park's girlfriend! I can't remember your name."

           "I never gave it." She mused. "How can I help you?"

           Jimin burst out in laughter at her snark reply, but he played it off as a cough. You knew better, but you tried to save your face.

           "He always came in with this brand of coffee so I wanted to try it for myself." You explained unnecessarily. "I didn't think he'd be coming here to see his girlfriend every morning! How sweet!"

           "Yes, very." She curtly agreed. "What will you be having today?"

           "Oh right. Whatever Mr. Park gets here." You blushed.

           "Coming right up." She smiled warmly.

           Your eyes followed Mr. Park who floated to where she was and they began bickering about something. Your lips turned downwards at the sight, wishing it was you he was close to instead. Then you straightened up when his gaze landed on you.  

           "See you at the office." He pointed at you and you couldn't help but beam, excited that he didn't forget about you.

           His girlfriend then handed you your order and whispered, "You should give up. You're not his type."

           You looked at her alarmed. How had she been able to tell from the few minutes you had been standing there?

           "Well if you hurry you could probably walk with him to the office." She batted her eyes innocently. "Tell him his girlfriend sent you."

           You blushed and sprinted out of the cafe, immensely embarrassed. Were the two of them just toying around with you?

           So in an effort to get over your crush on unavailable Mr. Park and not make a further fool of yourself, you attempted to date around again, which hardly ever ended well. You fell too hard, too quickly, and always landed flat on your face because of it.

           Receptionist pressed her earpiece as you once again rushed into the Club, distraught.

           "Jin, your next client is already waiting for you in the room. Looks like another one of her dates went badly so come with the full break up kit."

           "On it." Jin hurried out from the back worriedly.

           And you constantly wondered when Jin would get irritated and tired of you coming in like this.

           But he never did.

           In fact, you weren't sure how it happened, but Jin became one of your closest friends.

           "Yo." Jackson came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist.

           Jin raised an eyebrow as he was putting on his nightly face cream. "Jackson, what did I say about running around naked in the apartment?"

           "I'm not naked!" He pointed to the towel. "My goods are covered."

           Jin shook his head. "What'd you need?"

           "I was just wondering about that customer you have that's always bawling her eyes out." Jackson plopped down on Jin's bed. "Why do you keep her?"

           "What do you mean?" Jin questioned.

           "I mean, you were a Consoler type until J-Hope graduated. That's the type of Host she wanted. But now you're our best Gentleman persona. Shouldn't you let a full time Consoler handle her?" Jackson asked.

           "Mmm..." Jin hummed. "She was my first ever customer, and we've developed a bond of trust. She's been rejected by so many people --"

           "Clearly." Jackson snorted.

           Jin glared at him and Jackson looked away guiltily.

           "I just don't want to be one of those people." Jin stated. "She's really cool when you get to know her."

           "Bro, you've got balls." Jackson chuckled. "First, you're the only mask that uses his real name, and now you're the only mask that's taking on two roles. Respect."

           Jin smiled. "Well, I didn't want to develop some 'fake' persona. I always want to be myself in everything I do."

           Jackson nodded, "Props man, props."

           Jin spun around, "How does it feel being the top Aggressor now that Nochu graduated?"

           Jackson stretched. "It's a workout since his customers transferred over to me, but it's been good. The ladies love The Wang."

           Jin burst into laughter. "I still can't believe you chose that name."

           "What?" Jackson bellowed. "It's catchy. And joke all you want, but it makes perfect sense in the situation. Besides, you love puns so out of all people, I expect you to appreciate my genius."

           "I do. I do." Jin waved his hand. "Now get your naked butt out of my room."

           "Again, I'm not naked." he pointed. "There's a towel over The Wang's wang."

           Jin cracked up, and Jackson, quite satisfied at making his roommate laugh, waltzed out of his room.

           "Oh. Can you bring home left over bread and pastries from your store?!" Jackson bellowed.

           "We never have leftovers though." Jin smirked proudly.

           "You know what I mean. Steal some!"

           "I can't steal from my own store. Pay me!" Jin answered.

           "Fine! Just bring some! I've been craving them."

           Jin grinned. "I told you you'd get hooked."

           "I'd totally date you if you swung that way." Jackson replied.

           Jin rolled his eyes. "Sure, sure."

           "Hey, remember I made you into the city man you are now?! You need to appreciate me more!"

           Kim Seokjin, the eldest son of a farm family, had arrived in Seoul after much contemplation and much inspiration from his beloved sister, Farm Girl. He had watched all his younger family members steadily achieve goal after goal of their own accord. He had been envious of their ambition, their intellect, and their passion, but had simply felt content in helping out on the farm for the longest time. It had been a set path for him after all -- to take over the family business. He didn't think of anything else.

           But he soon began feeling left behind, stagnant, and aimless. Until Yoongi gave him a cookbook. A gnawing feeling of wanting more had always been present inside him, but as he held the book and as he began trying new recipes, learning more about the world of cooking, he realized what it was he wanted to do.  

           And so, he began confiding in Yoongi about his ideas and thoughts, to which the younger was supportive, encouraging, and helpful in providing valuable insight into what he needed to do to bring his aspirations to fruition. Later on, he gave Yoongi a letter with his well thought out proposal to open his own shop in the big city. He, too, wanted to chase his passions and try to achieve his dreams of making his small shop well-known, attending a prestigious culinary school, and maybe even becoming head chef of a restaurant.

           But he had refused any monetary help from his future brother-in-law. He wanted to find success with his own hands and his own efforts. Instead, he asked Yoongi to reach out to any and all of his business partners, and send his proposal to them to get someone to sponsor, invest, and support his idea. Lo and behold, through the sea of rejections, one person signed the proposal and gave him a chance to open up a small bakery. And so, he immediately left for Seoul to find himself and his dreams.  

           Luckily, when Jin had reached out to Namjoon for possible places to stay in Seoul, Namjoon mentioned one of his closest friends was looking for a roommate. And not seeing any reason to refuse splitting the rent and having an immediate friend in a new place, Jin accepted.

           "Wow, you're handsome. And tall!" Jackson gushed as Jin first stepped foot into the apartment. "But dude, your clothes...I know holes and stitches are in style, but we need to get you a make-over."

           "What? Why would I need a make-over? My face is already handsome." Jin argued.

           Jackson cracked up for a good five minutes. "I like you, Kim Seokjin. Namjoon said you were interesting and charming. He was definitely right."

           He shook Jin's hand. "I'm Jackson Wang. And as your welcome present, let me please help you change your wardrobe so you could do your handsome face justice. Okay?"

           Jin's lips curled up, "Well, I can't refuse if you're offering so adamantly."

           Jackson laughed, "Just between me and you, it's Namjoon's card."

           The two cackled all the way to the shopping district. And it truly was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

           "Jin. Jin. Chef. CHEF!"

           Jin was brought out from his reminiscing by his assistant, who was looking at him scoldingly with her arms crossed. "Can you please save your inner monologues for another time? It's almost opening time, and we have to finish two more batches of fresh bread!"

           "Oh right, right." Jin chuckled. "Thanks, Crumbs."

           She frowned at his usual nickname for her.

           "What?" he grinned. "Did you like Ppang-Ppang better?"

           She rolled her eyes and sighed. "There's an insanely long line outside already."

           "What would I do without you?" Jin tilted her chef hat playfully as she huffed.

           She chucked flour at him. "This is YOUR shop. Can you take it seriously?"

           Jin laughed, "Everything will work out, Crumbs. I say it every day, and I've never been wrong."

           She exhaled and went back to rolling dough. "Whatever you say, Boss."

           Jin patted his hands on his apron and got to work as well.

           Crumbs or Ppang-Ppang, to which Jin thought he was cleverly punny for making those nicknames for her, had been with him since the beginning. When he was just setting up the bakery, he was looking for assistants who could help him bake various pastries and bread. Since he was an unknown brand name, not many applicants came in. Those that did try however couldn't handle the speed, efficiency, and delicacy he expected in the kitchen. Then Crumbs waltzed in and was the perfect assistant. She was quick in the kitchen; she had her own flair, the passion to experiment with new flavors and ingredients, and on top of that, she was clean, organized, and determined to make each batch as delicious as the last. She was a blessing for which he was grateful for everyday. He knew that without her, his shop would be difficult to manage alone.

           "You want to work the cash register today?" he teased.

           She scrunched her face, and he chuckled.

           "You just want me to say your face attracts more customers so you should take the register." she retorted.

           "And yet, you still said it." He sung as he skipped outside to open up.

           "Make sure you don't have flour on you!" she called out.

           "Flour won't stop my beauty!" he bellowed.

           "Oh boy." She simply sighed as she waited for the last batch to finish in the oven, listening to the excited bustling of the shop. "We need to hire another cashier if this keeps up."

           "Oh, isn't he so handsome?" The customers gushed as they eyed Jin at the register while they chose their delicacies.

           "I wonder if these people come here for the pastries or for the eye candy."

           Jin beamed at the familiar voice. "Hoseok!"

           "I come here diligently every morning, just for you my dear friend." Hoseok smiled as he placed his choices on the counter. "I got a bit more today 'cause Jimin keeps eating it when I turn around or leave our room for a second."

           "Still the same, that Red Mask." Jin snorted.

           "Oh? You're here too?" Jungkook appeared and hugged Hoseok from behind.

           "Don't you have patrols to run in the morning?" Jin scowled at Jungkook's presence as he rung up the two's orders.

           "My girlfriend asked me to buy her some so I'm stopping by the office to give it to her. She said it reminds her of home for some reason." Jungkook shrugged. "This is addicting, Jin."

           "In that case, grab some extra for her." Jin smiled warmly. Jungkook looked at him skeptically at his softened tone. He coughed, "I mean anyone who could put up with your arrogant self needs some extra bread in her life."

           Hoseok snorted. "On the contrary Jin, Jungkook becomes putty when it comes to women in the 'real' world."

           "I'll have to see this for myself." Jin chuckled. "I can't imagine it."

           "Next time you two go to the gym, put him right next to a female and you'll see him panic." Hoseok pointed.

           "I've gotten better!" Jungkook argued.

           "Oh right. Where's your mystery assistant? She's the one that makes the special bread of the day you said, right?" Hoseok questioned.

           "Yeah. She's shy so she's always in the back thinking of new specials." Jin chuckled. "She never wants to be up here."

           "Well, send her mine and Silver's compliments. Yesterday's special was amazing." Hoseok gave a thumbs up.

           "I'll let her know." Jin grinned proudly.

           "Well, good luck. I'll catch you at the gym later." Jungkook waved.

           Hoseok and Jungkook chummily exited the bake shop, their handsomeness capturing many of the customer's attention.

           "They're taken ladies and gents." Jin commented with a chuckle. "Sorry."

           There was a collective disappointed "Awww" within the store.

           Jin yawned as he was about to close up for the day, but his eyes bulged out as he spotted you running into the store, disheveled, and wet from the pouring rain.

           "I'M SORRY! I KNOW YOU'RE CLOSING!" You heaved. "I ran here after work because I woke up late and didn't have time to wait on the line this morning, or else I would've been late and--"

           Jin simply smiled and flipped the sign to "Closed". "I'll get you your usual."

           You blinked, surprised. "You know my usual?"

           Jin blushed as he hurried to grab what he knows you usually get. "Um, I know all my regulars' usual orders."

           "I'm sorry. I'm soaking and you're going to have more work to clean up..." You mumbled shyly, standing awkwardly at the entrance.

           "No, come in. You'll help the floor get wet so you're saving us an extra step." Jin grinned and beckoned you over to the register.

           You would be lying if you didn't find him attractive, but other than the usual small talk, you hadn't gotten to know the cute baker. Maybe it was a good thing you had woken up late today. He was kind, friendly, and funny. And just for a bit, his attention was solely on you. But you wished you weren't soaked like a wet dog during this opportune moment.

           Timidly, you shuffled to the counter to pay for your order.

           "Just heat it up before you eat it. And if you want --" he pointed to the umbrella by the door. "--take my umbrella. I wouldn't want you getting sick."

           "Oh no." You gushed. "I couldn't. What about you?"

           "I'll be fine. I don't live too far. I'm sure you have a long commute." he stated.

           "How'd you know?" You blinked.

           "Oh. Um..." Jin averted his eyes, mentally kicking himself. "I mean some people who live close by could wake up late and still have time to wait in line, so I just assumed you lived far since you couldn't stop by before work."

           Your lips curled up. "You're good."

           "I threw in an extra pie in there." Jin winked as he handed her the bag. "For your commute."

           You grinned. "Thank you."

           "Take the umbrella. Soggy pastries won't taste good." he urged.

           You chuckled. "I mean if you put it that way. How can I say no?"

           Jin smiled.

           "I'll return it in the morning. I promise." You bowed as you scurried giddily out of the store.

           Jin sighed and slumped over his counter.

           "You're such a creep." Crumbs stepped out of the kitchen.

           "Why were you listening?"

           "Not like I have anything else to listen to in the kitchen. Rising dough isn't exactly noisy." she snorted. "Then I heard your ridiculous statement of knowing everyone's usuals."

           Jin huffed.

           "So I'm guessing that's the chick you're banging even though she has no idea what you look like?" Crumbs started cleaning up.

           Jin coughed at the sudden attack, "How do you remember everything I say?!"

           "Maybe you should be careful who you're around when you get drunk after work." Crumbs chuckled. "Luckily it was only us 'cause all your friends are coupled up, except for you."

           "You're not either." he pouted.

           "By choice." She tossed her hair over her shoulder. "I'm perfectly content being single."

           Jin scoffed.

           "But someone looks like he's developed a crush on his client." She playfully gasped. "How tragic."

           "Shut up." Jin shook his head. "It's not a crush. I just have a soft spot for her. She's been through a lot."

           "Whatever you say, Boss." Crumbs smirked.

           "It's NOT." Jin argued.

           "Why're you such a baby?" she retorted. "And what're you going to do without an umbrella, Mr. Smooth?"

           Jin pulled out his cell phone. "I'm going to call Jackson."

           "Ugh." Crumbs groaned. "Please wait until I get out of here."

           "Don't take it personally." Jin laughed. "He professed his love for me after seeing me naked one time. I'm sure your cooking skills amazed him into proposing."

           "Every single time?" She shook her head. "And you gave him my number! I don't appreciate that!"

           "I swear I didn't! He took it from my phone!" Jin responded.

           She huffed.

           "You want a ride home? Jackson said he'll drive us." Jin grinned.

           Crumbs contemplated.

           "You know you're going to give in. You don't pass up a free ride home ever." Jin pointed out.

           She sighed, "You're right. Fine. But I'm sitting in the back."

           Jin giggled, "I promise, he's harmless."

           You sat in the subway, grinning widely at your stroke of luck. Although it wasn't much, you confirmed that the attractive baker knew you existed and even trusted you enough to lend you his umbrella. Holding the bag to your chest, you inhaled to try to hold in the butterflies fluttering around your stomach. But instead, it rumbled, signaling that it was hungry after your long day. You received odd looks from the other passengers. Looking down, you reached into the bag to quell your hunger so as not to disturb anyone with your noisy stomach anymore.

           You smiled at the pastry you held, remembering your encounter with Kim Taehyung, the fantastic vet, and the man who had given up this exact pastry because you clumsily dropped yours. You had taken initiative to see him again, only to find that he was one of the head surgeons of the animal hospital now, so it was rare for him to just take check-up appointments. But you had caught glimpse of him in passing, and he was even more shockingly gorgeous than you remembered. His hair was slightly longer than when you first had bumped into him, and since he had just gotten out of the surgery room, it had been swept up to reveal his forehead.

           But sadly, you hadn't been able to see him since. You would often wonder how he was doing and if you would be able to run into him coincidentally again.

           "Um are you just going to smile at that, or are you going to eat it?" One of the passengers spoke up.

           You turned red as people chuckled at the person's comment, and at your odd behavior. Squishing your body as small as possible, you started eating your pastry, extremely embarrassed.

           "Hey!" Jin kissed you as you entered Club Masquerade.

           You smiled as your hands slotted into his. "Hey."

           "As requested, the room is set up as a casual living room." Jin bowed as he gestured for her to enter the room.

           "You never disappoint me, Jin." You grinned.

           "Only the best for you, of course." he chuckled. "So I see you had a good day since you aren't whining as soon as you come in."

           You pushed him playfully. "I don't always come in here whining."

           Jin gave you a knowing look, and you conceded. "Fine. I often do."

           "I'll take it." He settled beside you. "Since you're in a good mood, what would you like to do?"

           You hugged him and lay your head on his broad chest. "Just...maybe stay like this."

           Jin's lips curled up as he rubbed your back. It always amazed you how he had come to know and understand you so well.

           "Jin?"

           "Hm?"

           "Do you think some people are meant to be alone?"

           He hummed, "I think some people choose to be alone, because it's not something they prioritize or want in life. I don't think anyone is meant to be alone. People are social creatures after all."

           "I hope you're right." You nuzzled closer to him. "Why aren't you taken yet? I feel like girls would fall at your feet."

           Jin chuckled. "I guess the right one hasn't come along for me either. Plus I haven't really been looking."

           "Oh? Why not?" You glanced up curiously.

           "Mmm I don't know. I guess I've always had the mentality of 'if it happens, it happens'?" he shrugged.

           You sighed. "Lucky. I have the mentality that if I don't do something, it's never going to happen."

           Jin nodded, "I guess there are some things that won't happen unless you make it happen and grab hold of it."

           "But sadly, sometimes people take advantage of your obvious interest." You frowned.

           "Hey, you're a courageous woman. Take pride in that." Jin complimented.

           "I don't know about that..." you mumbled.

           Jin clicked his tongue. "What did I say about taking compliments?"

           You smiled, "Thank you."

           Jin nodded in approval. "Better. Not many people can take the leap like you do. So even if you failed a few times, at least you tried and took the risk. You'd be surprised how many people are stuck in 'what ifs'."

           You lifted your head up to stare at him. "I never thought of it like that."

           "Aren't I great?" he teased.

           You smacked his chest. "You, sir, need to wait for compliments instead of giving them to yourself."

           "It's my charm." Jin grinned.

           "That's true." You straddled him and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Are you stuck in a 'what if' now?"

           "Mmm..." Jin leaned forward. "I'm wondering 'what if I wanted to kiss you right now? Would you kiss me back?'"

           "That's not even a what if." You chuckled as you captured his lips with yours. "It's a certainty."

           Jin grinned as he unbuttoned your shirt slowly. "And what if I wanted to make you feel even better than you do right now?"

           "I would welcome that openly." You whispered as you helped him undress you.

           Jin peppered kisses throughout your entire body, not sparing any part of your skin from his large, plump lips. Jin was the one person who had always been there for you, even when you had bared your soul, when you were at your most vulnerable. His touch was always careful and tender, and for the moment, you deluded yourself into believing he loved you. You knew he cared for you deeply, that you two had developed a bond, but another part of you wondered how much of it was his job and how much of it was real.

           But you let yourself fall into the delusion, because it was so much better than the reality that awaited you outside of Club Masquerade.

           So you reveled in the way his hands roamed your body, the way with each thrust, both of you would moan with pleasure, perfectly in sync, perfectly connected. You pulled him deeper into you, wanting him to fill you up, and he obliged, pushing in as much as your walls allowed him to and with a little more force; his lips never leaving yours unless it was to gasp, groan, or moan. When you came, your entire body was filled with immense jitters-- butterflies-- your heart soared, and your mind was blank from all thoughts except for how fantastic you were feeling. It was absolute bliss.

           And it was always bittersweet parting from him, from your little haven away from the cruel world. But it also made you wonder how long you would be content with this transient type of relationship. As constant as Jin was, you knew he wasn't yours.

           "Bundle up. It's chilly now." Jin tightened your scarf around your neck.

           "Thanks." You smiled as you pushed out your lips. Jin chuckled and knowingly gave you a chaste kiss to bid you goodbye.

           "Get home safely." he waved.

           You stole another kiss from him before scurrying out the door.

           You shivered as you felt the brisk night air. Dogs were heard barking in the distance and your mind was whisked back once again to thoughts of Taehyung. Even though you only spoke to him briefly, something in your heart stirred in that moment in time. You snorted. There you go again, falling for someone you hardly knew. Would he even remember you? Would he even want to see you again? You exhaled as you pulled your jacket closed.

           A gust of wind knocked your hair into your face and you flailed around trying to regain your vision. Once you were free from your entangled hair, you realized you were standing in front of a building by Club Masquerade you had always passed but never took a good look at. You moved closer curiously at the bright neon sign, and the seemingly packed venue, wondering what it was exactly.

           Suddenly, you stopped in your tracks and whipped your head towards the window as you spotted a familiar figure pass by. Rubbing your eyes, you prayed you weren't hallucinating. You gasped as Jungkook came into view as well, both of them carrying trays of drinks and laughing at something. Pressing your face closer to the window, it became more evident that the person who had caught your eye was, in fact, Kim Taehyung.

           You had found him.

.

.

.

PART 2 

[sambukasam]

F is for Femdom

Summary: You fuck Sam

Pairing: Sub!Sam x Dom!Reader

Warnings: dom/sub, pegging, anal fingering, face sitting

Word Count: 1087

A/N: this is my first time writing the reader as the dominant one, so i hope this turned out okay :-)

ABC’s of Sex Masterlist ↔︎ Normal Masterlist

"You got yourself stretched for me, baby boy?" You asked as you stepped into the room and close the door behind you. Your strap on was already on you. You had been wanting to fuck him all day and you didn't want to waste any more time than you needed to.

"Yes mistress," he grinned up at you from where he was kneeling on the floor. You carded a hand through his hair before grabbing a fistful and pulling his head up slightly.

"Up on the bed for me. Lie on your stomach," you ordered.

He immediately was clambering onto the bed, a mess of jerky limbs as he moved eagerly to please you. You gave him a bit of time to get comfortable before you climbed onto the bed and straddled his thighs. Your hands reached for his ass, grabbing handfuls of the pert cheeks and slowly pulling them apart to catch a glimpse of his winking hole.

He flinched at the sudden cold air on one of his most sensitive spots, and you ignored him as you let go of his ass and instead pushed a finger into his lubed up hole. He swallowed it up easily, showing you that he was able to take your fake cock.

The bottle of lube was sitting patiently at the foot of the bed and you grabbed it drizzling some onto your dildo. You formed a fist and thrusted into it a few times to spread the lube around. Then you squirted a dollop directly onto Sam's asshole, giggling when he jumped at the sudden cold. You slid three of your fingers into his hole, spreading the lube. You massaged the excess to the puckered skin on the outside and then you were sure he was ready for you.

You climbed off of his legs before slapping a hand gently against the inside of his thigh. He understood what it meant without you needing to open your mouth, and he spread his legs wide for you. You smiled proudly and kneeled in between them.

You nudged the blunt head of the cock to his hole, before asking him what colour he was.

"Green, mistress," he said straight away. You had to resist the urge to chuckle at the desperation in his voice. Looks like he was craving this just as much as you were, you thought.

You slipped the head in and paused for a moment, giving him the chance to adjust to the intrusion. He bucked his hips back at you to show he was ready, and the dildo slid into him another inch or two. You steadily pushed the whole thing in and leaned over Sam's back, peppering kisses to his shoulders as that was all you could reach while you were balls deep in him.

"Please, mistress," he panted out, squirming to try and make the toy hit his prostate.

"Please what?" You chuckled, going back up to kneeling up.

"Please fuck me!" He cried out.

Who could say no to a request like that? You pulled out slowly, enjoying the way his hole fluttered around the cock, looking like it was trying to clench tightly and keep it inside. You quickly rammed into him, angling your hips to push it into his prostate.

"Oh God," he whimpered. His hands were fisting the sheets so hard they began coming off the corners, and this only served to encourage you to move faster.  "Fuck!"

The cry let you know that you had found his prostate, and you kept slamming into it at the same angle.

The harness of the strap on was rubbing against your clit, spreading your wetness with each thrust. You were sure by the end of this you would have the bed soaked.

"You close, baby boy?" You asked. Your hair was starting to stick to your sweaty forehead from the effort of keeping up a regular pace while drilling into the spot that made him see stars and scream.

"Yes, mistress!" He practically yelled, beginning to hump into the duvet. "Wanna make you feel good when I'm done."

"That was the plan," you chuckled; and you decided to let him get away with the grinding, finding his desperation to come so that he could pleasure you endearingly hot.

"Please, can I come mistress!" He screamed out, hips stilling.

"Let go, baby boy," you whispered into his ear, thrusting to help him ride the wave of his orgasm.

When he began whimpering from the over stimulation you stopped, pulling slowly out of his used hole and stepping out of the straps that were tying the fake dick to your body.

He rolled onto his stomach and smiled up at you, his eyes dopey from the bliss of getting to come. There was cum splattered on his front, and you dragged your fingers through it before feeding them into his mouth. He sucked them obediently, cleaning them off.

"Mistress, please can I make you feel good now?"

You smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips before crawling up his body. You hovered over his face, not pressing down to where he could reach you with his mouth. He whined, high pitched in his throat at your teasing as he craved the taste of your pussy. He eyes the soaked folds and how your thighs were drenched, licking his lips and fighting the urge to lean up and lick you.

When you could see he was close to cracking, you leaned down onto his mouth. "You can use your hands," is all you could say before he was eagerly devouring you. His hands reached up to cup your ass, using their grip to grind you down onto his waiting tongue. You rolled your hips while his tongue traced you from your clit to your asshole and back again, savouring the heady smell of you. He began thrusting his tongue in and out of your throbbing cunt, and it didn't take you long to come after the constant rubbing of the strap.

He licked you through it, cleaning you up when you finished. You rolled off of him with a huff and landed beside him on the bed. He turned his head and grinned over at you. It was a calm one, one that only you ever got to see while the two of you basked in the afterglow. The smile told you that everything was okay. Instead of choosing to return it, you grabbed his jaw and pulled his mouth to yours.

He rolled onto you, slipping in between your already spreading legs. His hands grabbed yours and pinned them to the pillow over your head.

"My turn?"

[artificialqueens]

Sink me in the river at dawn, part 0/8: Aaron - (Alaska!centric) chykopon

“ If I die young bury me in satin Lay me down on a bed of roses Sink me in the river at dawn Send me away with the words of a love song ”

A/N: first of all, a huge thanks goes to Marble, who kindly beta’ed this first part and gave me lots of great suggestions! Second: the title is a quote from “If I die young” by The Band Perry, which had been the constant background music during my writing. The story is a 9-parts-fics, each one about a different character and their relationship with Justin, because first of all this is a story about human behaviour, human feelings, empathy and friendship. Please, read the trigger warnings! I don’t want somebody to feel discomfort or uneasiness reading this story… Flashback dialogues are in italic, and flashback scenes are divided from the rest of the story by horizontal lines.

Justin was lazily reading a book, making himself comfortable on the couch, while the buzzing sound of LA’s streets was rumbling in his ears. There was nothing special in the usual cacophonous noises outside the hospital he had grown used to, even the constant and repeated “beep” which filled the room had become customary to the point he didn’t even mind it anymore. He had fallen asleep, rocking himself in that sound as if it was his own personal lullaby, so many times he didn’t remember the last time he found himself suffocating in the odd feeling that silence brought.

Things were going as typically as usual, just the way Justin had grown accustomed to in the last seven months. But something that day was thickening the air, a feeling of eeriness filled the room and he was trying so hard to ignore it that  he was feeling an unsettling kind of dizziness rising from his feet to his head.

Someone knocked on the doorframe. He turned his head to look at Aaron, who was smiling from the entrance.

“Hey—” a feeble greeting.

Aaron, who would usually stand there across the corridor in all of his quirky and overwhelming glory, was now smiling sheepishly in  his direction; in his eyes, Justin saw his own reflection: the scruff beard none of them had taken care of for too long, glimpse of greyness growing through their hair as days continued to pass by as the weight of age started to push on their shoulders.

The blonde was wearing a dark, long sleeve shirt, so unusual for him, but it seemed like the perfect delineation of their shared mood; so casual and polished from the outside, as if they both were trying too hard to disguise what they were thinking. But unlike Aaron, Justin couldn’t hide neither the huge bags under his swollen eyes, or his wasted appearance, paler than he had ever been.

Aaron’s blond hair was like a punch in the eye, violently clashing with the aseptic walls of the room. Hospitals were so fucking sterile. With all their whiteness, and anonymous appearances, Justin always felt as if he was emptied of all his strength, allowing discomfort to make its way to his mind, making him sick.

“Hey…” he replied to the man he once called his soulmate.

Aaron had flowers in his hands. Another day. Another gift. Justin made a great effort to motion his lips to something that vaguely resembled a smile; he was grateful, he was. But he felt as if it was one of those thoughts you had in your mind, because the world taught you it was the right thing to do. He didn’t remember the last time he had actually felt something genuine.  Something for real.

Aaron reached him and made himself a space on the couch beside the one Justin occupied, fumbling with the little pot he was still carrying. He seemed so fragile in that moment, unsure if he was supposed to look Justin in the eyes or not, and Lasky could almost hear Aaron’s loud thoughts rumbling in his head as he seemed to be wisely choosing his words. Justin felt pity towards him, and a sardonic smile urged to emerge upon his face. How ironic. It seemed so odd how in all the years they had shared together, that was the first time Justin could see him as he really was.

He didn’t smile, though. It was oddly funny how he was supposed to be the one in need, but the one craving to be comforted in that moment seemed to be Aaron.

“How’s life?” Justin asked after few moments of complete silence, crossing his legs and pursing his lips. Memories of that same days almost a year before reappeared in his mind, when the one grabbing his shoulders was Aaron, and the one crying was Justin himself.

Aaron opened his mouth, but instead of saying something, he chuckled with a bittersweet expression upon his face, “It’s… ok”.

Justin found himself disgusted by the sickening shrewdness Aaron was serving him; he knew too well he was avoiding the answer, probably because he thought it would be so fucking disrespectful to shove his happiness down Justin’s throat in that moment. But Lasky had always imagined that Aaron would be the only one to not treat him differently, to not treat him with pity. Justin thought that he at least deserved a bit of honesty in exchange for what he had made him bear with for too long.

“You don’t have to be gentle with me,” Justin spoke, drawling his words in a muffled murmur. “It’s quite disgusting seeing you act all sensitive towards me, when you’ve always been a straightforward bitch”.

Aaron opened his mouth, but he closed it again almost straight away, biting his lips, “I know,” he sighed, feeling the weight of Justin’s thinned gaze upon himself. “It’s going well—I wasn’t expecting married life to be… like this, actually,” the trace of a slight smile was painting his lips.

Justin slowly turned to match his eyes, and forcing himself into a sympathetic grin, he spoke again “Like what?”

He wanted to sound more bitter than he actually seemed, but the truth was that despites all of his anger – assuming he was still capable of actually feel something – he couldn’t bring himself to act out of malice towards Aaron. In the end, he didn’t really remember how ‘married life’ was supposed to be.

All the time shared with his husband seemed so distant in that exact moment, that Justin struggled to remember even the last thing they talked about…

Aaron chuckled, “Like, it’s the same as usual, but with more sex and less booze.”

Glimpses of his last year with the love of his life took Justin aback, as if he was still standing there, reaching for his hand like the first time they entered their shared flat… Justin echoed him in a mild laughter: it was like a conditioned reflex, as though he had grown so accustomed to shield himself with sarcasm that he didn’t remember how it was to really laugh sincerely. A nurse glanced them both, and gestured towards them in a movement of the hand that clearly was demanding to both of them to keep quiet.

They hushed in a moment, both with a rascal smile bending their mouths as if they were still in their 20’s and had just done another one of their pranks. Justin couldn’t discern what he was supposed to feel right now, but it seemed like something completely right in that exact moment, as if those gestures, reminding him of too many years before, were the only anchor to keep him tightly attached to reality.

But Aaron’s smile dropped just a moment after, all while he was lowering his glance again, “I’m sorry, Justin”.

“For what?” asked the lanky man dryly, abruptly dragged out from the delusional bubble of joy.

Aaron seemed unconvinced of what he was about to say, but he kept talking, “For all… this”.

Justin didn’t even blink, he just stared at the white wall as if it was the most interesting thing in the world; everything was so wrong. He would’ve probably shouted at Aaron, he would’ve probably done so many different things, if he hadn’t been dried up from all energy. He didn’t even have the strength to be angry anymore.

Aaron knew Justin was trying too hard to avoid looking at that bed, at that body, pale and motionless, with their eyes shut, tubes in their nostrils, in front of them… He knew, because he knew Justin better. And he couldn’t even begin to imagine what he had been through during all these months, but he could clearly figure out how many sleepless nights had he spent, looking at that chest, rising and falling at the same pace of the machine the man in the bedwas attached to. Aaron could depict, as if it was happening in front of his own eyes, how many times Justin had been crying, crouched on that same spot on the couch, trying to muffle his sobs in the shadow of the night. He felt sick when he looked at the bed from the corner of his eye, and felt the urge to think of something to distract himself.

“You don’t have to be sorry, for once it’s something you don’t have anything to do with…”

Aaron really wanted to reply with something, to shout that somehow he had something to do with this situation, because he cared, he fucking cared for Justin—but he kept quiet. Being the quick-witted and sensitive guy he was, he understood that it was totally uncalled for. His time had passed far long ago, and the only person who could really comfort Justin – his anchor, his safe place – was now lying there, wrapped in those white sheets.

“Do you want me to go?”

Justin stood silent for a while until a loud sigh burst from his lips, while he was pinching the bridge of his nose, “No.” He fumbled on his spot on the couch, “I’m just really tired.”

Aaron nodded silently.

“Stay,” Justin spoke again, without even looking at him. “Just, please…” He searched for Aaron’s hand on the couch, and the other man caressed him tenderly on his palm with his fingertips. “Shut up for once, Aaron.”

The blonde smiled with a bittersweet expression, he didn’t have to search for something on Justin’s face, he could read how much he needed it by the sound of his cracked voice, hoarse by the growing lack of sleep and the many cigarettes he had been smoking during the last few days.

They stood there in complete silence for a while; just their hands lightly touching, Justin crouched on his spot, Aaron looking at him with worry and sympathy. They hadn’t been like this for a long time, and now it seemed so familiar that Aaron realized how wrong he had been to think he wasn’t still used to that kind of intimacy.

He knew Justin wasn’t the type to appear so fragile in front of others, that’s why he convinced himself the most helpful thing he could do, would simply be there for him, bearing a bit of the other man’s pain on his behalf. Because Justin wouldn’t talk about what he was or wasn’t feeling, nor he would deliberately search for comfort; he was stubborn, and too introvert to just  be outspoken about how much he was suffering… but Aaron knew. And Justin deserved at least to be respected in his silent try to not drown in all that shit.

“Mr. Sanderson?”

The first one to raise his head was Aaron, looking kind of confused towards the nurse: a black man with a too kind pair of eyes to work in the intensive care unit.

“It’s Honard,” Justin said slowly, his eyes still shut. “I’m… I’m Mr. Sanderson’s husband, I– I kept my last name.”

Justin then opened his eyes and smiled kindly towards the nurse’s sheepish look, he must be new had been his first thought; Aaron was taken aback by the gestures, the way Justin had always had to disguise what he was really thinking brought back to him memories he thought he had by far already forgotten.

Aaron watched them exit the room, an odd feeling of complete discomfort aching in his chest, before turning his head towards the bed in front of him; the constant beeping sound made him feel uneasy, and he wondered how Justin had been bearing all of this shit until that moment.

“Please,” Aaron joined his hands for the first time in years. “I know we’re not the best of friends, but please, Matthew…”

He was looking at those closed eyes, his glance was outlining that jaw line now covered in a beard scruff which hadn’t been taken care of in a while.

“Wake up.”

He looked at the clock – 8 hours – and closed his eyes, his face deformed in a painful expression, and for the first time in ages, Aaron prayed, memories he hoped to have buried in the past year still resurfacing in his mind…

  “He’s my fucking husband!” Aaron was grabbing Justin by the shoulders, trying to calm him, all while the other man was punching and scratching him in a desperate attempt to free himself, “Let me see him! Let me fucking see him!”

The nurse was staring at them with a mortified and shocked look, gasping, overwhelmed by the lanky man reaction, “Sir”, Aaron remembered how he had looked the surgeon in the eyes, but the only thing  he could focus on was the blood stain on his scrub; the woman probably didn’t even notice it, but the blonde couldn’t take away his glance… “Sir, please, if you don’t calm down, I have to call the security”.

Aaron couldn’t feel the pain Justin’s nails were inflicting on him, scratching his bare arms in the desperate try of freeing himself from that tightening hold. He wasn’t even rationalizing what was happening in that exact moment: his ears were full of Justin’s desperate cries, tears flowing like a river from the brown-haired man’s eyes, his mouth open with barely discernible sounds – screams – bursting from his lips. Aaron’s first thought was that he had never seen him like that.

Never. He had already heard Justin’s loud screams, when back then they were fighting and throwing bottles at each other; he had already seen Justin’s tears, when back then they broke up and they were both devastated, the world coming undone in their hands. But Aaron hadn’t ever seen him like that.

As if he could crash himself in thousands of pieces on the floor at any moment, his beautiful face now deformed in what Aaron knew was pain in its purest and most terrific form.

“No, please, don’t call the security,” Karl, who had been gasping with a hand on his mouth besides them until that moment, chose to step in, watery eyes, searching for a reflection of sympathy onto the surgeon’s face. “We—we are gonna calm him down, but please…”

The surgeon nodded, echoed by the nurse on her side. Aaron thought that maybe they were used to it, that maybe Justin’s reaction was simply another check on their daily list, he thought that maybe tragedies happened more often than he had thought at first.

“Please…” Justin was loudly sobbing in his arms, his body slowly becoming a dead weight, which Aaron could barely handle, “Let me see him… please…” words were mixing with tears and moans, while Justin was sliding down Aaron’s arms onto the floor.

“Please—”

Karl gasped, and before he could start to cry, he covered his mouth, turning to the other side; he couldn’t handle that. He simply couldn’t. And neither could Aaron, but he knew he had to.

Justin buried his face onto the taller man’s chest, “Please—let me see him…” Aaron would have said something, but thoughts were crazily spinning in his mind, without him being able to grasp any. He forced himself to think straight, because he couldn’t stay there doing nothing, letting Justin melt through tears and sobs in his lap… but Aaron didn’t speak and the words died upon his lips.

  Justin was reading the papers on the counter, paying no real attention. He could see from the corner of his eye Aaron in Matt’s room; his hands touching the bridge of his nose, in what seemed like a prayer. He smiled, without knowing if it was due to disgust or a crooked kind of empathy.

It was the fourth time he had read the same line, and raising a hand to his forehead, he squinted out of tiredness; he didn’t remember when the last time he had had a good sleep was, but it didn’t matter, he would have plenty of time after that day to feel so fucking tired… He felt as if he should be crying, but even though he kept his glance on the papers, caressing words he had now grown accustomed to with his own eyes, he felt nothing. Emptiness. Complete and total emptiness.

He knew he was supposed to feel something. Pain, or maybe relief, or again something like discomfort, but Justin was simply catatonic, replaying lots of different and mixed up memories in his own head; some were happy, some were not, but he couldn’t bring himself to shed even a single tear.

He had cried for so long now, he felt like he had dried up.

“Please, Matthew… i need you”.

  A/N2: suggestions, feedbacks and criticisms are very welcomed! I know i have other stories i really need to finish first, before working on new projects, but this fic had bugged me for weeks, and i had to write it…

[worldsmostdangerous-archived]

𝔉𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯

Welp, it’s been one whole year since I started this blog and started rping. Although I’ve made four other blogs too in that time none of them got close to being as active as Dragon, mostly because only Dragon’s muse is constant for me. I have here most followers, most interactions and quite embarrassingly most posts, and you do not want to know how many of them are, really.

There have been some downs, I admit, but none of them were huge. I still crave for more interactions but I’m starting to realize that having someone like Dragon as a muse is limiting my chances for them immensely. Which sucks. It’s also because I’m slightly picky but shhh.

Despite everything I love this fandom, I love rping and I love the people I’ve met here. I was planning on doing this once I reached my 500 milestone but with how the things are going it’ll never happen. So instead of 500, I’m doing this at 380+. At first I’m giving few honourable mentions to some people who I’m significantly grateful to and then list some mutuals and people I just cannot forget and whom have made this year unbeliavable. Honestly when I joined the fandom I didn’t believe I’d stick out for this long and I hope I’ll never leave because this community is amazing. I love all my followers and mutuals and I thank you for sticking around~

Under the cut so I don’t clutter the dash.

@mindaxsassin​

REB. YOU FLUFFBALL YOU. You were the first real friend I made here. In fact, you were my first online friend. And you were the first to whom I properly talked?? AND Akita was the first proper relationship for my Dragon and I do not have the words to thank you for that. Our first thread is the first (and also remains the only *sweats*) long one that I actually got to finish. I was honestly relieved that someone cares about the revolutionaries and Dragon as much as I do?? Before joining the fandom I hadn’t really seen anyone else being as passionate about them as me and it deeply saddened me. You don’t know how much I appreciate meeting you. You REALLY need to properly come back to the fandom. Leave Naruto plzzzzzz we neeed youuuu. No, just kidding, but seriously. We need you. Dragon misses his niece though he won’t ever admit it.

@alabasti​

RAYYYYYY. THANK YOU AGAIN FOR THE THEME IT’S SUPER PERF I CANNOT REPAY YOU IN ANY WAY *SOBS*. You are so precious Idk what to do. I love how we can talk so easily?? And we didn’t even really work for it, it just came naturally I have no idea what happened. We’re both so dedicated and passionate about our muses I just want to thank you for everything. And especially for making Iris. I’m still crying about that tbh. I had honestly thought that until Luffy’s mother gets revealed in canon I wouldn’t get the chance to write with one, especially not bond in such a deep and amazing level and boyyyyy was I wrong. And with the way the canon is going my Dragon is gonna go canon divergent anyway and honestly I’ll keep Iris no matter what. She’s too perf and so are you and you gotta know it.

@shiapolux​

Paula my sweet summer child and sinister AU Hell companion what am I gonna do with you. You’re more amazing and funny and witty than you can ever comprehend. Shia is such a well rounded and developed OC I cry. I admit at first when you followed me I saw no interaction material but I’m thousand times glad I rechecked because I was so wrong. I think it was something of a?? You posting something about someone being interested in interacting with Shia in revo verse maybe? And before that I hadn’t even really noticed that you could have one despite reading your bio at the time but?? I’m glad I noticed it in the end because without it we would have never started talking, not to mention our legacy the myth AU wouldn’t have been born. And that was only the start for now we have??? Ten?? AUs plus the canon verse that we neeeeeed to get going somehow, and I’m not sorry because mostly it’s my fault. Though you agree to them so welp, you reap what you sow. I’LL NEVER LET YOU LEAVE THE VOID THO.

@spottedsoftpaws​

Cid my dear dear partner-in-crime. I have dragged you to the AU Hell too. #NoRegrets. I had been stalking you from afar for months before that shipping meme you reblogged and ohman did that give birth to stuff. I had never really even considered this ship - okay I had, but that was like, days/weeks/Idr prior to the meme - but here we are, hardcore shipping these two. It’s funny tho because they prob never will really be together together but. We can always dream and we have other verses. In fact, we have 13 plus canon. (WHAT, WE HAVE MORE AUS THAN ME AND PAULA WTF). And I do not regret pulling Zuhal and Basma from gathering dust on your shelf either because they need love. I also love how we’re pulling polyships left and right with Paula. It’s also shocking how well our porn fit together. It was meant to be~ Seriously tho, you make the day always a little bit brighter and I thank you for that. Never change.

@sabakunoo​

Julieeeeeeee I have a confession to make. I have shipped CrocxDragon for two years. I was never awfully passionate about it though because I knew it wasn’t possible for real but when I began rping there was this smaaaall hope that maybe. It died down after a month and then I forgot about it altogether until that one damn meme reply you did. It actually really shocked me because I had no idea your Croc functioned like that. But I’m happy that it did. It’s weird though because I’m not gonna have a tag for these two because it’s not romantic. First one on the blog, tbh. Your headcanons about Crocodile and his relations to the Army opened my eyes and I’ve made them canon for my Dragon, just so you know~. You’re the best Crocodile I’ve seen and honestly it makes me slightly timid to reply to our threads because I just cannot write as well with as much knowledge as you do. *sweats* You’re a joy on the dash though so keep it up.

@saboners​

Cher you sweetie I cannot believe we don’t talk more. You are one of the most warmhearted people I’ve met and your asks are always more appreciated than you might realize because who wouldn’t love random asks. You’ve been following me since the very very very start and as such I’m eternally grateful to you. I must also thank you and credit you for the greatness that is Mr. Squawkers of which origin I specifically searched for this occasion. So if anyone is ever confused about the source of my crack tag, there it is in all its feathery glory. May the squawking never die. And may you never leave this fandom because we all love you.

@benn-beckman​, @scarlethaki​, @gratixsa​, @chillin-at-partys-bar​, @solxangelica, @devilslcg​, @1chijirexu​, @askku-chan​, @themostfreedom​, @sunawxni​, @thelithiumprojectlm​, @shukkou​, @kaizcku​, @thatchtheawesomecook​, @blackcxge​, @rubberbastard​, @beastyhound​, @notarealflamingo​, @armisxmultis​, @elusvepirate​, @venixvidivici​, @xredeyes​, @thorough-justice​.

Thank you all for the amazing year~