#It would have dealt with half the problems I listed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

grugruel · 7 months

Text

Big Iron

Pairings:

bounty hunter!Arthur Morgan x outlaw!f!reader

NSFW/MDNI

Masterlist

Summary: She's escaped a robbery, and bounty hunters have been sent out after her. They'd made no problem so far– that said, the notorious Arthur Morgan set upon her trail.

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: Arthur Morgan, pinv sex, rough sex, soft sex ish, lap/bulge-riding, praise, petnames (girl, sweetheart, ma'am), creampie, overstimulation.

AN: 3rd person pov, trying it out. Not yet proofread!

A campfire blazed in the night, casting a warm glow over the small, temporary hideout.

Smoldering flakes of ash rose skyward in tired swirls, and the woman's face lit up, sizzling embers of spent coal entrancing her.

The fires of a bright building shouldered It's way into her mind, stealing precious space from all else.

Money was all she had needed. But the simple, well practiced heist escalated. Attempted arson had suddenly been added to her list of offences, robbery another one among them. Which she could admit to, and proudly so.

Trees around her rustled, and she leaned back against the rockwall. An overhanging cliff sheltering her.

Guard lowered, at last. She let herself slide down the wall until she felt the ground beneath her thighs. Then dove deeper into the memory.

But the fire. . . Now the fire was not her fault.

Not only was the law after her, but they'd also sent out money hungry bounty hunters aswell. She'd already tied two of them down yesterday, big brutish men they were. All muscle and no brains. Still, they proved to be quite the nuisance. But they wouldn't be a problem anymore unless they died of starvation, which would indeed be u fortunate.

She gritted her teeth at the memory, her eyes interanally. She doubted it, seeing as they were curently tied to the fence of the sheriff's office.

Which left only one real threat.

One man, one singular man; a notorious outlaw himself. He was the sheriff's most resent hire. Big, deadly, tall and muscled. From long days of hard work killing and robbing she imagined.

She'd actually seen him in person once, and she could admit, he looked dangerous, and devilishly handsome. The rumors had been right about that, she was only hoping that his volatile reputation along with the Van Der Lind gang's would turn out to be folly.

She shivered at the thought, shaking her to the very bones. If it were from the thought of him or the cool of the night, she did not know. She closed her arms around herself, stroking them for warmth as she pushed the unpleasant thoughts away, her gaze snapping to the treeline beyond.

Back to reality, and suddenly accutely aware of the black darkness that lingered between the thick stems beyond. Her vision was good, and she was quite hidden after all. No one would be sneaking up on her.

"Ma'am."

From the shadows, a man appeared at the edge of the campfires domain, vaguely illuminated by its warmth. Broad and tall in frame, the deep night clung to his back. His sudden prescence was the only evidence of his arrival, he'd made no sound nor been seen before he'd needed to be.

Her eyes snapped in his direction, widening with recognition, the eerie sense divulged itself to her body. Like poison, it spread quickly, crawling into every blood vessel and turning them ice-cold along its journey.

"Mister," she greeted, doing her damndest to stay calm.

His hat covered his eyes, but the smile he dealt was unmistakable. 'There's quite the bounty on you, girl.' The drawl of his accent sunk into her skin like the warmth of the fire.

"There's no doubtin' that," she nodded in admittal, slowly moving away from him, "Although im only worth half of it, I assure you."

She moved slowly, eyes meeting his as they poked out beneath his hat. He tilted his head to face hers, regarding her silently. Eyes flickering over her, the way her hair fell over her shoulders, and how her blouse revealed the hills of her chest. ". . . 'S that so?. . ." He took a step closer, the rope in his hands now excruciatingly evident to her.

She got to her feet in one swift motion, hesitantly gesturing for him to stay calm. "Mister, I'm not a murderer. The sheriff framed me." She took a few steps to the left, placing the fire between them.

The man chuckled. "I belive ya' ma'am." His hands pulled on the lasso, adjusting its length. Gripping it roughly from time to time, trigger fingers readying themselves for any sudden movement. "But the law can be a crooked thing sometimes." His eyes narrowed in on her, then shrugged nonchalantly. "But, a bounty 's still a bounty girl."

The birds sang above them, and the world blurred around her, her knees suddenly weak. Unfortunately for her, he would be there to catch her in a sense too literal for her liking.

"And I can say the same for myself ma'am, I'm a bad man. . ." His voice imposed, yet, the gravely tone vibrated perfectly well in her ears.

Gulping her nervousity, she assessed her options. . . And then ran.

Trees rushed past in peripheral whirls as she made her way along the cliff wall. Rope flexed behind her, threads wringing against eachother as it was swung and thrown with a woosh.

The air caressed her cheeks, pulling tears from her eyes and whistling in her ears. She gave it all she had, but it wasn't enough to stop the lasso from capturing her with deadly accuracy. It fell over her shoulders and tightened around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides.

The rope pulled taunt–and the world stopped moving for a short second, with a yank, her body whipped forward, and her feet was swept from under her–then, just as suddenly, it sped up again.

Like a tree cut down for its timber, she fell. The ground rushed up to greet her face as she stumbled to the ground with a hard thud. She panted, smelling the earth and feeling the wet grass tickle her face as she struggled against her entanglement; wriggling and thrashing like a stranded fish.

Well-used leather chaps groaned behind her as he stalked closer, winding the rope up with friction she was sure could start a fire, her stumache churned the thought.

The woman rolled onto her back to get a better layout of the situation–and there he stood. Just by her feet, he loomed over her. With his back to the fire, it cast a back-lit glow around him, framing the big man as he filled her sight. Fear and desire fought for the helm, conflicting her mind terribly.

He crouched down, bending over her as he circled the rope around her waist, foirtyfying her restraints and securing his valuable bounty tightly.

He grabbed the lasso and pulled her up diagonally. It pinched her midriff painfully and pulled her body flush against his, just so he could level her head with his. ". . . And I've done bad things," he whispered, lips brushing against her ear. A dull pulse appeared where there ought to be no pulse. She screwed her eyes shut, and lust for this man was the last thing she should be feeling. But oh. . . How his breath raised goosebumps and spread like a wildfire over her skin.

He straightened his legs and stood back, pulling her with him while keeping their bodies close together.

Her breath fanned over his lips as they stood a mere inch apart, one bound and the other free. A smirk made its way onto his lips, his hands sliding along the tied rope around her abdomen until they were at her waist. And in one strong motion–he threw her over his shoulder.

She yelped in surprise. "You brute!" Kicking wildy in hopes of getting free. But one of his arms circled around her legs and gripped the back of her thigh to keep them still, while he laid the other on the small of her back to stop her from falling. "You keep your hands to yourself Mister!" She shouted, struggling against his bullish strength.

"Yes, ma'am." He assured as he began walking, not paying her futile thrashing much mind. "That's not the kind of bad man I am."

She cleared her throat and huffed, expecting more of a reaction. She didn't quite know what to do in this situation, she hadn't planned this far ahead. She didn't think she'd ever be properly cought. "Well, good," she said curtly, calming herself.

Being a nuisance and making this whole situation worse would be a bad idea, and she hadn't made any progress thus far, seeing as his grip was solid steel. So she'd have to settle her mind with the feeling of his strong back beneath her instead. In fact, she was reveling in the feeling of his hand on her thigh.

He stomped out the campfire before moving to where he'd hidden his horse. "Sittin' or layin'?" He asked, being nice enough to hand her to option of sharing his saddle or to be stored over his horses ass.

She huffed, "what a gentleman. Take a guess Mister," she muttered.

He nodded, "Sittin' with me it is." His hands moved to her waist, and easily transfered her from his shoulder and onto the saddle. She scoffed for the sake of scoffing, eyes narrowing as she looked down on him, and if it had the power to, her look could certainly have killed him. "Quite presumtions of you."

With a low chuckle and a shake of his head, he gripped the saddle before climbing on. Placing his hands on either side of it, one hand on the pommel and the other on the cantel. Which just so happened to be between her thighs, and just behind her ass. Almost grazing her on both sides as he braced himself against the saddle, eyes meeting hers with a satisfied smirk, "Much more attitude from ya' girl and I'll have to take meassures."

Shock sprung itself on her, feeling dizzy all over again. The knuckle of his thumb was an inch away from brushing against her cunt. Her eyes widened at the fact, and the implications his words carried. Her loins burned, but she simply cleared her throat and neutralised her expression, "Id like to see you try." And faced away from him, turning her nose upward.

He climbed onto the horse, placing himself close intil her back and leaned over her shoulder. "I will if you'd let me, respectfully, ma'am," he whispered in her ear and then spurred his horse. Shivers shook her at that, her entire body vibrating with a dull sense of need.

They rode silently for a long while, and she wanted to sass him, she wanted it terribly. But was both afraid and hoping he'd take action, just as he'd stated.

The miles wound on, oh it felt never ending. Especially with the man behind her, rutting his hips against her with every step of the horse. He was a blessing against the cold, but pure torture as his heat soaked into all the wrong spots of her body.

Finally, it came time to rest. They'd ridden nonstop from the early morning of her capture to the next night. If that weren't enough, a heatwave had been raging for the entirety of the day as well, and the setting of the sun had barely made a difference.

He set her on the ground, binding her feet and hands before starting on the camp. Making quick work of the fire and tent as she sat down on a rock, silently watching the man work, and very much enjoying the show.

His skin was slick with sweat, much like herself. The cool light of the moon and the warmth of the fire made him glisten in every sense of the word, and oh, the way he toiled away.

He'd removed his vest and chaps as he got to work, respectively rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, which now stuck to his skin. A nuisance for him to be sure, but a dream for her, she could practically see the muscles of his chest rippling.

A drop of sweat trickled down her temple, tickling her skin and drawing focus away from the view. Her eyes widened as she realised how she stared at the stranger and shook her head, attempting to clear it.

Goodness, focus. She needed to hatch a plan.

Running would do her no good, he would be too fast. He wouldn't accept bribes either and was very hard to persuade. No attempts had been successful so far.

At that thought, unavoidably, abashedly her eyes snapped back to him as he pulled his shirt off and reached for a new one in his saddlebag. She clenched her jaw to keep it from falling, his strong chest was adorned by hair, trailing down his abdomen and disappearing under, the waist of his pants.

She swallowed. In that exact moment, she wanted nothing more than to see where that trail ended.

Her jaw began aching, she fought to tear her eyes away from him. Managing to direct her gaze to the ground instead, a d impatiently waited for him to put a fresh shirt on.

After a short while, she dared look up again. He'd pulled a log to opposite side of the fire and sat down, a cigarette had been placed between his lips, and was currently being inhaled with fervor. Tilting his head back, he released the cloud of smoke with a sigh.

Her eyes followed his movements intently, studying them as she hoped that perhaps he'd notice her and offer one–

"Want one, girl?" He nodded toward her, gesturing with the match box.

"I do, yes," she answered expectantly, holding her hands out for him to untie.

But to her surprise, he scoffed, then stod and walked around the fire. He crouched onto one knee in front of her, his arm bracing on top of the other. "You'll have to do better than that," he said.

He plucked the cigarette from his lips and offered it to her, holding it an inch from her mouth. She hesitated, observing him with disdain. "Go on," he nodded.

Reluctantly, she followed his orders, but met his eyes to make sure he knew how unhappy she was about it, and then leaned in.

Closing her lips around the cigarette, she could feel the dampness where his own lips had been moments before, and sucked the toxic smoke into her lungs, as if it were air.

She swore she saw something glint in his eyes, studying her pouting lips. And a plan struck her suddenly, but–

"Good girl," he hummed.

Again, shock gripped her. The praise rose right to her head, sending waves of heat cascading through her body. Then she coughed, the smoke settling wrong in her airways. She pulled back, letting him retrieve his cigarette while she worked to regain her composure. "You alright there, sweetheart?" He asked with a grin and patted her back before replacing the cig between his lips.

"Just fine, mister," she hissed, still reeling. "You got anything stronger? Whiskey, bourbon?"

He nodded and pulled out an old bottle of bourbon from his bag, "Could you?" She held her hands out to him again.

He studied her, stroking his stubbled jaw in thought. "Got somethin' for me, then?"

Insinuations led her down a path of filthy thoughts, but she instead opted for a simple, "Please?" Instead, attempting it cheapishly.

His hands slipped down to his hip, pulling the knife from its hilt. "That's more like it," he mumbeled with his cigarette clad lips.

And cut the rope around her hands and feet, stopping at the rope around her waist and met her eyes. "Try anythin'. . ." He raised his eyebrows and lowered his voice to a mocking tone. ". . . Run, hurt me, trick me." His eyes narrowed, the corner of his lip tugging. "And there'll be a steep price to be paid."

Swallowing, she nodded enthusiastically, "I just wan't a sliver of freedom before im locked up, you could understand that."

He nodded. "S'pose so. . ." And began untying. "The difference is, girl–" The lasso loosened and slid down her sides. "–that I'd never get caught." He gathered it and pulled it over her body, his fingers accidentally brushing against her hips, the sides of her breasts.

Her breath hitched, and their eyes met. Her skin tingled desperately as fluttering wingbeats set off in her stumache. Such a small thing, building into such a big reaction.

He cleared his throat, handing her the bottle as he threw the rope into the fire and put the lasso bag in his saddlebag. Finally replacing himself on another log, not as far away from her this time. He leaned back against the tree behind it and spread his legs wide. His bulge was enough to make her salivate. "It's not easy, you know, for a woman like me, when there's men like you, Mr Morgan."

Arthur quriked an eyebrow in question. "You know me?"

"I know of you," she corrected, taking a big swig of the fluid, then handed it back to him for him to do the same.

He nodded silently, a sigh escaping under his breath. "All bad I hope." He took another swallow, not to bothered by her statement. Probably used to hearing it by now.

She shook her head, taking the bottle and another gulp. "Many of the ladies say you're handsome."

At this, he looked up at her, chuckling. "Well, I don't know 'bout that."

"It's true. . ." Antoher sip, followed by a hiccup. "They say you can be quite the gentleman too."

His eyes bore into hers, his tone serious but expression joking as he humored her. "Depends on the lady." He reached for the bottle, and she stood up to give it to him. Walking closer, she handed it over, fingers brushing against each other in the motion.

His eyes met hers, and she brushed her hand under his chin. "You know what else they say, Mr Morgan?"

"No . . . What do they say about me, sweetheart?" A smirk made its way onto his lips. The liquor seamingly starting to affect the pair of them.

"That you're good in bed. . ." he stepped between his thighs, her hand falling from his chin to his neck, scratching at the nape gently.

He hummed appreciatively, then took another sip of the bourbon and set the bottle aside. His hands reached for her, coming to a rest on either side of her thighs, pulling her closer to him, squeezing them at his pleasure. "They're only rumours girl." He tilted his head backward, resting it against the tree to get a better look at her, eyes fastening on her lips.

With her other hand, she hiked her skirt up, revealing her thighs as she stepped over his legs. One at a time, then slowly sank down on his lap, while his hands automatically slid to her hips.

She placed herself on top of his bulge. He grunted from the pressure. The pulse within her began strumming at her nerves, turning them jittery.

"See, I doubt that, Mr Morgan." She whispered. "Women do not lie to eachother of such things." His bulge beneath her grew harder, luring a hidden smile from her. It took strength to will it from her lips and only reach her eyes. "They say you're rough, or gentle. Dependin' on your mood." As she said that, she could've sworn she detected the faintest red creep up his cheeks. Arthur Morgan, blushing? Now, she couldnt help herself and the smile reached her lips.

The man cleared his throat, acting as if it had never happened. "That's told of me in everythin' I do." He smirked, the grip on her hips hardening, knuckles turning white.

"But you're always sweet 'n caring." She continued, her own words were building the lust within her, making the pulse ever stronger. It grew harder to focus. She needed to release some of the pressure building inside her. Evaluating the consequences, and deaming them minor in conparison to her needs, she rocked her hips downward–grinding into his bulge.

Simultaneously, she whimpered and he hissed. She leaned against him, her lips brushing against his ear as shenuzzled his cheek. "Apparently, It's also true what they say 'bout ridin' cowboys-"

"Girl," he interrupted with a chuckle. "Dont think I dont know what you're doin'. . ." He breathed. "Seducin' me." With the tight grip on her hips, he rocked her hips against him, the rough fabric of his pants grinding against her core.

With a gasp, one of her hands shot out to burry itself in his hair. She leaned into him, the other hand grabbing his shirt for support as she rested her head against his shoulder. He nuzzled his cheek against hers, returning the gesture and muttered. "You use your sweet talkin', then get me drunk 'n run off, that your plan?"

Her eyebrows furrowed, hips grinding down harder, her ruts becoming more frantic, needy. She screwed her eyes shut from the copious amounts of pleasure washing over her. All she could do to answer him was hum in admittal as she strained hard to focus.

He chuckled. "Easy girl. . ." His voice commanding, low and raspy as he slowed her hips, but keeps the pace hard. "Use your words." He ordered, loving the way she fell apart for him.

She nodded hastily, hoping it'd be enough satisfy his request. But he pinched her hip through the fabric of her skirt, and her eyebrows furrowed in pain. However, not having the energy to even make a sound. Her thoughts were a blur, she couldn't tell what to keep hidden anymore. "Yes– yes. . ." She moaned, the coil inside her tightening impossibly hard.

"Thought so," he breathed, the words curt on his tongue, but lust evident in his voice. Suddenly, his hands left her hips, snd one arm snaked around her waist, his hand placing itself at the small of her back to push her against him.

Then he stood, drawing a whine from her. She did not quite understand what was going on as the loss of movement gradually undid all the progress she'd made. "Mr Morgan?" She inquired, hesitantly wrapping her legs around his hips.

He walked them toward the tent. "Arthur," he corrected, carrying her with ease. Pushing the tent flap to the side, he kneeled, bending over her as he placed her on the ground.

"Arthur," she smiled, worry seeping out of her as she realised he was making them more comfortable.

His knees slid apart, hooking her legs upon them as they spread. Her hands shot up in response, grabbing onto the collar of his shirt to pull him closer, close enough for his lips to hover over hers. Their eyes met. "Please. . ." She whimpered, one hand sliding downward. ". . .Please." She said again, fingertips trailing down his abdomen, suddenly grabbing hold of his bulge with a firm hand, his member rock hard. "Outlaw or gentleman?" She asked, smiling a wicked smile.

A grutn escaped him while his lips brushed over hers. "Neither." And grabs her wrist, pulling her hand away from his crotch and catching the other in the same motion. His free hand reached over her head, and the hauntingly familiar groaning of strong rope sounded above her. She shook her head, "Arthur, please. . ." Panic moved into her voice, the repeated words carrying a completely different meaning this time.

He held both wrists with one hand and tied them together with the other, the rope stinging her skin. She cried out unhappily.

But he chuckled, in a matter of factly kind of way. Stroking the burn gently as ge corrected her, "Should've behaved." And when done, he sat back. Observing her as she laid tied up, legs spread in front of him, and circled around his hips. Much to his dismay, he wouldn't be enjoying the sight as much as he wanted to. "It's late."

"Arthur. . ." She pleads, attempting to appeal to him, one last time.

He turns his head just enough to see her in his peripheral. "Get some sleep. You got a long day ahead of you tomorrow." He flashed his eyebrows smugly. "Night, sweetheart." Then exited the tent without another word.

She huffed, unbelievable.

Sweetheart. . . But how could she be annoyed when he called her such a thing. She dreamed herself away, with imagines of a shirtless Arthur Morgan and the feeling of him inside her. But she'd not given up, make no mistake, he would fall asleep and she would leave. . .

The night carried on and the temperature finally began dropping, a shiver shook her pleasantly. It was a welcome change. Her body strained as she raised her neck to get a look of the outside. Through the flap she saw Arthur, sitting, snoring, hat covering his face as he leaned back against the tree he'd previously been sitting on.

Now, she needed to get rid of her restraints. Rolling over, she crawled toward the opening, her eyes never leaving Mr Morgans sheathed knife.

The fire had been reduced to embers at this point. Crackling and sizzling lowly as the cool moisture in the air riddled the grass with dewdrops, dampening her hands and skirt as she approached her goal. She sat on her knees, then moved to grab the knife carefully, gnelty sliding it out. The sound of it unlatching nearly had her yelp.

No movement in Arthur.

Shallow breaths, she exhales. Relief flooding through her begoee she began working the knife against her entangled wrists with her fingertips. Carefully regarding the vicious man for any signs of waking. But her thoughts slid, perhaps, if he caught her, he would be kind. Or would he be angry? She could truly not decide werther which reaction she'd most prefer–

The rope snapped, and exhilaration filled her. Gaze snapping between her free hands and the hunter, imagining her prospects. She stood quietly, holding her skirt tightly around her to keep the fabrics from rustling. Slowly, knife still in hand, she backed away. On careful tiptoed steps she faded into the night, the fire dwindling in the distance.

The darkness made it hard for her to see much of anything, at its height the tree-crowns silhouette were visible against the blue summer sky. Branches moved, leaves swished in the gentle wind. She grew paranoid, head snapping in every direction, reacting to every little noise around–

A branch broke behind her, she jumped, turning around so fast she almost ripped– a Buck. She froze, a god damned buck? She had expected it ro be Arthur, but she seemed to have ogtten the better of him. The animal looked at her, ears twitching as it chewed on grass– suddenly hopping away. She sighed and turned back.

Only to collide with something hard. Her thoughts raced, she knew, she knew. She looked up, eyes tracing along his body until they met his, half hidden under his hat. Reflexes prepared her to run, but before she had as much as taken a step back, a hand grabbed her wrist and yanked her back to him. Again, she thumped into his strong chest. Held against him with the familiar iron grip, she fought, as usual; but to no avail, as usual. He snaked an arm around her waist to hinder her from breaking free, yet she kicked and punched violently with her free limbs. But it made no dent in the man. He couldn't even spare her a reaction as he half carried, half dragged her back into the low light of the burnt out fire. He spun her around and pushed her up against the cliff wall, grabbing the wrist closest to him and pinning it above her head. 'I warned you, girl.' He snarled, the look in his eyes doing just as good a of job pinning her to the wall as his hands. He reaches for the second–

When something sharp digs into the soft flesh of his throat, he froze. His chest was the only thing moving between the two of them, heaving breaths of annoyance.

'Thrid times the charm.' She smirked.

He raised his eyebrows and chuckled, 'That so?' His voice mocking, and before she could comprehend what had happened, he'd captured both wrists with one hand and slammed them above her head and into the wall. And the knife had appeared in his free hand, she noticed this because it was now held against her own throat. 'Repeat that for me girl.'

Her lips struck a thin line as she attempted a neutral expression, although fuming on the inside. She shrugged her shoulders, 'No.' Was all she said, but stubborn in tone.

He nodded, looking her up and down, studying the buttons on her blouse. 'Ought to teach you a lesson sweetheart.'

She cleared her throat, deciding that to act nonchalant was her best option. 'Yeah? What ya' gunna do, huh? Ravage me?' She asked half joking, but still hoping there'd be some truth to it.

At this, the corner of his mouth turned up, a wicked grin developing on his lips. 'I just might.' He breathed, tracing the tip of the knife downward, along her collarbone and then along the front of her blouse, coming to a stop at the first button. She gulped, feeling the knife poke through the thin fabric against her chest, making goosebumps run amock in reaction and the pulse reheating in her core. He leaned forward, pushing his body against hers until there was no room left between them, his head hovering just above the crook of her neck. 'May I do with you as I please?'

This was it, the sweet balance between a hardened outlaw and a tender gentleman. 'Yes– yes, Arthur please.' Her voice near a cry, it took everything in her to control her tone–

Her blouse ripped, from top to bottom he cut it open, and she wasn't wearing a brasier. Her chest laid bare before him, and he groaned happily at the sight.

With her go-ahead he wasted no time, he let go of her hands and cut her skirt too. Cutting a slit as far as he reached with the knife then threw it to the side, and the tore the rest. She gasped, every nerve in her body on edge. In an instant, his lips were upon hers. Hungry, hungry lips devouvered her as hands roamed her body, groping and grabbing wherever they got purchase. Her own hands greedily searching for a steady hold in his hair, she grabbed a fistful and pulled gently. He moaned at the feeling, such a beautiful sound. His hands slid over her breasts, squeezing them, then pushed the remains of her blouse off of her shoulders.

Except for her undergarments, she stood completley exposed for him. She could practically feel him salivating when he cupped her clothed mound, and finding her clit with expertise and rub it through the fabric.

She tore herself free from his kisses, she had to breathe. A deep gasp brought oxygen to ger lungs once again, allowing her to whimperand moan in equal measure as he worked her clit. The pressure made her knees week, she wriggled, attempting to rut against his hand. But she was too unsteady to make progress. Noticing her difficulties, his other hand slid behind her back and held her steady. Allowing her to chase her pleasure. And left with no lips to kiss, he latched onto her neck instead, to suck at her sweet spot.

She hummed appreciatively, unable to keep a big smile from her lips as pulses of pleasure washed through her. She slid her hands from his hair and unbuttoned his shirt, running her fingers along his strong chest and abdomen, gingerly feeling all of him as her hands worked themselves lower. Finally unbuttoning his pants. She did no longer have to wonder were his happy trail dissapeared too, she bit her lip. He was huge. She stuck her hand into his pants and stroked him eagerly. 'Need ya' Arthur, please.' She panted.

He let out a strained grunt against her shoulder, and his hand left her clit. She whined, but didn't have to stay displeased for long.

Both his hands slid down her sides, and she tried to breathe steadily, but it proved hard. The feeling of his calloused hands on her skin was too heavenly. Suddenly, he lifted her. Pinning her against the cliff wall with his arms and the weight of his body, allowing her to wrap her arms and legs around him. She hadn't known, but he had wordlessly obided her request. He pulled her garments to the side, and line himself up with her entrance. 'Sure about this?' He asked, a final reassurance.

'Yes.' She purred, no hesitation in her answer.

And so he pushed inside her, the sheer size of him was making her want to scream–

'Good girl.' He moaned, and directed his eyes to hers. She repressed a moan, biting her lip hard to hinder it as heat flashed through her. It was two words, yet she could've come undone from them alone, when said by him alone.

He gazed upon her softly, one of his hands left her thigh to gently stroke a strand of hair from her face. She smiled, and so did he. He was just giving her time to adjust, but her heart soared at the simple gesture.

God how could she feel so strongly for a stranger?

Her hands retangled in his hair as Arthur slid out of her, she furrowed her brows– but in a rough, quick thrust. He shoved himself back inside of her, filling her to the brim. He set a cruelly pleasurable, unrelenting pace. Any trace of gentleness gone.

She felt the pressure tightening within her, building snd building until she was on the verge of coming once again. Her hands sunk to his back, clawing and scratching because she did not know what else to do, he was too much, too good, too big. He overstimulated her with his mere prescence. And he knew when her walls tightened around him, adding extra pressure onto his already throbbing member. 'You close girl?' He grunted, his gruff voice breathed against her ear and his hand squeezing her thigh roughly beneath her. God it was sublime.

'Mhm. . . So- close.' She murmurs, her words coming out jagged as her body rocks with Arthurs thrusts. Pushed closer to her release with each thrust, once again, she shut her eyes and spots speckled her eyelids. Breathing turns frantic, she could no longer tell who was who as they mixed, moans and curses spilling from them both.

With a flash of pleasure, searing hot it soured through her, making her whimper uncontrollably. His thrusts slow, holding her securely, caressing her face and kissing her lips as she rides out her high. 'You're alright girl.' He breathes reassuringly, 'Well done Sweetheart.'

Overstimulated tears roll from her eyes, 'Oh Arthur, you sweet, sweet man.' She sighs happily, and he comes a mere second later. His seed filling her and oozing out.

They'd clean themselves tomorrow, since tiredness plagued them currently. He backed away from the wall and she clung to him, desperatley not wanting to part with him.

He carried her back to the tent, this time not bothering to tie her up as they laid down facing eachother. Arthur, grabbed her chin between his index and forefinger. Studying her thuroughly before they finally succumbed to sleep. She could escape if she wanted to, he wouldn't stop her this time. Her plan had worked, they both knew it. But they felt something else too, and they both knew it.

Hooded eyes blinked, blushing at Arthurs intent eyes and searching gaze. Her eyelids weighed down by exhaustion, It'd been a long few days, and before she knew it–

The light dawns, rays of dusty sunlight shone through the flap of their tent as the morning wakes. Bringing warmer tempratures and calm birdsong.

He opens his eyes, and immediately meet hers. She'd just been admiring him. 'Surprised?' She asked, biting her lip and stopping herself from reaching out to touch him.

He smiles, 'Naw, I was hopin' I'd wake up to you girl.'

#arthur murgan #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan imagine #rdr2 #rdr2 smut #rdr2 arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 smut #rdr2 fanfic #rdr smut #red dead redemption #arthur morgan fanfic

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sailor-aviator · 4 months

Text

Fool's Fare: Chapter Ten

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Content Warning: ASSAULT, ATTEMPTED SA, feelings of jealousy, reader avoiding her problems, smut (pain kink, fingering, dry humping, p in v, dirty talk, slight breeding kink), arguing, descriptions of blood, violence, misplaced rage, idiots in love. I think that's it, but PLEASE let me know if I missed something!

Word Count: Just under 5.7k

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

You always thought monsters were found solely in the spoken words of stories passed from person to person in low lights, in hushed whispers, in frantic glances.

They were the things that parents warned their children about, their gnashing teeth and glowing eyes hunting them in the dark, reminding them to stay close, to stay mindful, to stay safe.

You didn’t believe in monsters. You hadn’t since you were little, but now you wondered if monsters weren’t the creatures that roamed the nights, preying on children and unsuspecting folks as they traversed the shadows. Perhaps they were the unsuspecting victims of circumstance, the victims of choices made and consequences dealt with no care for the intentions behind them.

Did any one person ever intend to become a monster? To become the thing that parents warned their children about? Were they born or were they made? Was a monster capable of being a good person? Or did the title bar one from redemption? Were they even capable of love?

Captain Jake Seresin was a good man, of this you were sure and certain. You saw the way he treated the men of his crew with respect and fairness no matter how far down the totem pole they were. You saw how he smiled at the children in the different port town, green eyes twinkling as he waved at the babies and ruffled the hair of the small children that greeted him. You saw the way he closed his eyes in the setting sun, the sea breeze ruffling his golden locks, the smile that lay in a shadow on his lips as he savored the moment.

You watched him in those moments, wondering how anyone could think him a monster. You were no stranger to his harder moments or his rougher actions, but you supposed you had your fair share of the same. Despite seeing the uglier side of him, if you could even call it that, you still found yourself drawn to the rugged captain all the same. Your eyes would wander toward him before you even had the chance to realize what you were doing, green eyes meeting yours and snapping you out of your reverie as heat would rise to your cheeks. It was a wonder the roof of your cabin had no holes in it from the way you lay awake at night, staring daggers into the worn wood as your mind raced with thoughts of the captain, of what would happen should you either fail or succeed in having the curse lifted.

It had been two weeks since the events on the isle, and the captain had yet to lay a finger on you, as promised. On more than one occasion you had waited with bated breath as he would reach for you, only to huff quietly in disappointment as he would stop and let his fingers drop back to his sides. You found you missed his touch, the constant reassurance it brought to you that you were safe under the watchful eyes of your captain.

Truly, you found that you missed having him around you so constantly. You missed the late night filled with quiet laughter and the shared tales of growing up in your different parts of the world. The way his fingers would play with the ends of your hair or smooth over your cheeks as he studied you while you told your stories. Or the way his emerald eyes would light up with joy as he recounted a story of he and Javy back in the days before he took command of the Hangman. You missed him.

Of course, the captain was sure to keep up with your sword lessons, and you were proud to say that his hits were growing fewer and farther in between. You had yet to best him, but you caught the flashes of pride that danced in his eyes every time you came close.

You once again found yourself perched in a chair inside a busy tavern, the other ladies bustling around the room with drinks and ample cleavage on display for wandering eyes of men. You saw several members of your own crew casting longing glances at the ladies, and you suspected several of the newer members would try their hands at sating the undeterrable desire that coursed their veins.

You let out a long, labored sigh as you rested your chin on your fist, eyes scanning the room with disinterest as the men spoke around you. Natasha sat across the room, a gaggle of men surrounding her as she regaled them with titillating tales of her adventures and coy flirtations disguised as teasing japes. You wondered if you could ever find yourself feeling so carefree, envying her ability to forget the current circumstances as the deadline to end the curse drew nearer with each passing day.

The tension from your group of friends was palpable as they watched the blond captain oversee the signing of the poor, new souls sign away their lives to one of servitude. Javy stood at his side, arms crossed with a stoic expression on his face, but the way he would glance over towards Natasha just a few tables over was not lost to your watchful eye.

A pretty red head sauntered over towards where your captain sat, a lascivious smile curled on her painted lips as her eyes wandered over Jake’s form draped across the wooden chair. A manicured hand came up to rest on his shoulder, dipping down towards the open V of his cotton shirt as she leaned down to whisper something in his ear. His hand reached up to hers, taking it, and you felt the ugly twist of heat curl in your chest as your cheeks warmed. You stood abruptly, chair scraping against the stone floor as the others cast wary glances your way.

“I need some air,” you muttered, already moving towards the exit, shoving past the several large bodies, drunkenly swaying as they blocked your escape route. If the others called after you, you didn’t hear them over the noise of the tavern and the blood rushing in your ears. He would touch her, but not you? His touch you had to beg for, seeking it out yourself because he refused to touch you for some stupid sense of honor and valiance, and yet he gave it freely to the first woman who came in his sights.

The night air was cool on your skin as you finally managed to break through the crowd. You paused only for a brief moment before you pushed forward, determined to put some distance between yourself and the stifling air of merriment.

You had made it only a few yards before you heard your name ring out in the quiet streets, the familiar timbre causing your heart to clench in mixture of anguish and anger as your thoughts swirled inside your head. He had deprived you of his comfort for weeks, had kept you at bay and away from him for so long, and now he suddenly wanted you?

You ignored him as you sped up your pace, hearing the sound of his footsteps pick up as well. You rounded a corner, pushing yourself back against the entryway of one of the buildings and out of the dim light cast by the streetlamps. You waited with bated breath as the footsteps rounded the corner, a flash of blond jogging past your hiding place before coming to a slow stop once he realized you were nowhere in sight.

“Guppy?” He called, uncertainty laced in his voice. You stayed silent, still, as he glanced around the buildings lining the street. You shifted in the shadows, pressing yourself as far back as you could as you watched him. He let out a deep sigh, hunching over as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Guppy, please,” he said again, twisting as he inspected the shadows. “Can we talk?”

You didn’t want to talk, not with him. At least, not in that moment. No, you wanted him to feel as helpless as you had for two weeks, reaching out only to be ignored. You wouldn’t forgive him so easily.

You needed a moment to breathe, to think. You had been afforded so little time to yourself, constantly bombarded with tasks on the ship in between your sword lessons and chatter with your friends. You hadn’t allowed yourself a moment to process the events of the isle and the information you gathered after, and you found your frustrations and feelings from the past two weeks boiling to the surface.

Jake let out a curse under his breath as he paused in his turning. You watched as his teeth worried on his bottom lip, indecision clear on his face before stalking off in the opposite direction. You waited a few moments, making sure he was gone before slipping out from the shadows, scanning the street for signs of anyone. Seeing signs of no one, you looked back one last time in the direction the captain had disappeared in before turning towards the harbor.

You managed to make it back to the ship before the tears started leaking past your carefully constructed wall of feigned indifference. It was quiet, the entire crew having decided to try and find some sense of normalcy at the tavern, and you were thankful for that serendipitous turn of events as you padded across the deck towards the stairs to the galley.

The ship swayed in the tide, causing you to be somewhat unsteady on your feet as you stumbled towards the kitchen. The ale felt sour in your belly, and you were sure some food would help settle it before you retired for the evening to wallow in your feelings.

A part of you knew you were being unreasonable in how you were handling the situation, and as you scrounged up some bread, you huffed at your own unwillingness to address the issue.

You would never move past this rough spot unless you sat down to have a conversation with the captain. Two weeks had allowed the wounds to fester, and avoiding the situation would only make it worse.

You had just found the last of the cheese, making a mental note to pick some up at the market tomorrow before departure when the creak of one of the floorboards caused you to pause. Letting out a sigh, you turned around towards the entrance to the kitchen. It was the captain you had expected to see, so it surprised you to see one of the crew members bracing himself against the frame of the doorway, dark eyes fixed on where you stood. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought him drunk or ill with the way his skin shone with sweat, the paleness of him showing in stark contrast to the shadows of the room. The bags under his eyes caused him to have a skeletal appearance, and the hair on the back of your neck stood at attention as the two of you stared at one another.

“Evening,” you offered, wincing at how small your voice sounded. “Can I help you?”

The man said nothing, thin lips turning downwards as he cocked his head to the side. He took a slow, heavy step forward, and your eyes immediately darted towards the knife that lay on the edge of the counter. It wouldn’t kill him or cause much harm by any means, but it might slow him down enough for you to escape should you need to.

“Are you hungry?” You asked him, inching slowly towards the knife so as not to cause suspicion. “I can make you something if you like.”

“You know we’re always hungry,” he sneered, looking at you with disdain. “Haven’t had a sated belly in months. Haven’t had a drink that’s not left me more parched than before either. And women…”

He paused, eyes raking over your still form, and your heart pounded in your chest. The night was still fairly early, and you would be surprised if anyone made their way back to the ship anytime soon.

“We all know that you’re the only source of relief on this ship,” he continued, eyes growing impossibly darker as he took another step towards you. “You’re always surrounded by that lot, though. None of us can get close to you. Tha’s why when I saw you leave, I knew I had to take my chance.”

You felt your fingers twitch as you glanced back over at the knife, taking a small step sideways as he took another haggard step forward.

“Chance at what?” You asked him, voice barely above a whisper, and you cursed yourself for how shaky it sounded. The man stopped, standing slightly straighter as his cold, black eyes fixated on you.

“Relief,” he uttered, the word barely passing his lips before he lunged for you. You were faster, barely, as you scrambled for the knife. You gripped the handle in your hand, whirling around just as the man’s body crashed into yours. You let out a grunt as you stumbled, nearly falling to the ground, but managing to catch yourself on the counter. Fury coursed through your veins as the man’s hot breath washed over your face, his eyes blazing but almost unseeing as he reached for you. You brought your hand up, slashing at his face with the knife.

He let out a howl of pain as he clutched his now bleeding eye, falling to his knees as the thick, red liquid oozed out between his fingers, and you took the moment to scramble away from him, hissing as your hip collided with the edge of the counter. Your eyes fixed on the dinner bell hanging just by the stairs of the galley. You glanced back for half a second to see the man staggering to his feet, hand still gripping his skull as he fixed a murderous glare on you. You sucked in a breath as you bolted from the kitchen, the bell growing closer and closer as you willed your feet to move faster.

Your fingers wrapped around the rope attached to the bell and you pulled frantically, the loud clanging of the metal echoing through the room and up the stairs onto the deck. You hoped that it was loud enough for someone to hear and investigate.

Your thoughts were cut short as a hand yanked you backwards by your hair, a hiss of pain leaving your lips as your hands clawed at the ones just out of reach behind you.

“You miserable, little cunt,” the man growled, slamming you into the wood of the entrance, “I coulda been nice to ya, but now? Now I’m going to make sure it hurts.”

Your cheek ached from the force of the impact, the rough wood scratching your skin and adding to the sensation as you struggled to break free of his hold.

“Stop your squirmin’,” he muttered, hand wrapped around both of your wrists as he gripped your shoulder with the other to pull you back away from the wall. You took that moment to bring your foot back as hard as possible, heel meeting something solid in the process. The man let out a grunt of pain before his hand moved from your shoulder to grip your chin, pulling it back at an awkward angle to look at you.

“Now listen here-”

You didn’t let him finish, instead opening your mouth and biting down as hard as you could onto his fingers. He let out a pained yell as your mouth flooded with the taste of iron. He snatched his hand back, his other letting go of your wrists. You took the opportunity to flee, feet thudding up the steps to the deck. You turned your head to glance back over your shoulder, but before you could get a gauge on how far away the man was, you ran into a solid wall of muscle.

You let out a grunt as you stumbled back, nearly falling down the stairs before an hand reached out to grab your hip and steady you. You reeled back, eyes locking onto brilliant green, and your body sagged in relief.

“Guppy?” Jake frowned, eyes scanning you head to toe. You were sure you looked a sight in that moment. The throbbing in your cheek was pounding, the skin there sticky with what you were sure was blood. Your wrists and shoulders ached from where the man had twisted them back.

At that moment, thundering footsteps sounded behind you, and your heart jumped in panic as you twisted around in Jake’s hold. The man’s murderous gaze landed on you, his lips curled in a sneer before dropping at the sight of the captain behind you. His skin paled as Jake’s hold on you tightened, and you felt the familiar sting of tears behind your eyes.

“What happened?” Jake barked, and the man in front of you flinched at the tone. Neither of you said a word as you stared at one another, daring the other to speak first.

Footsteps sounded on the gangway, and you turned to see a small group making their way onto the deck, headed by Javy. The quarter master stopped short as he saw the scene in front of him, his usual stoicism slipping into a look of shock before they schooled once more. He pushed his shoulders back and made quick strides to stand next to the two of you.

“Captain,” he said, arching a brow at the man behind you. “What seems to be the problem here?”

“I was wondering that myself,” Jake growled, the tension rolling off of him in waves. A beat of silence passed before Javy let out a drawn-out sigh.

“Thomas,” he snapped, drawing the man’s attention. “Get your ass down in the galley. I’ll be dealing with you in a moment.”

The quarter master’s tone left no room for argument and the man, Thomas, cast one last glance in your direction before retreating back down the steps.

“Reuben. Mickey,” Javy barked out. Both men hurried to follow Thomas down the steps without another word, giving you curious looks as they walked by. The quarter master turned to look at the captain, lips pressed tightly together as he glanced down at you.

“You might want to get her cleaned up,” he said quietly. Jake said nothing. He guided you towards the cabin, his touch surprisingly gentle as your feet stumbled beneath you. You felt the first wave of exhaustion hit you then, sagging further into Jake’s side as he led you past the door and down the hall to his cabin.

The room was just as you remembered, not having seen it in the weeks since the captain started pushing you away. The man in question led you further into the room before guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed. Your mind was foggy, but you were vaguely aware of Jake moving. The sound of water being poured from a pitcher and into a bowl filled the room, and the blond kneeled before you with a cloth in hand. He took one of your hands in his, stroking the back of it with his thumb gently.

“Guppy?” He murmured, eyes searching your face. “You still with me?”

“Yeah,” you croaked quietly. Jake gave you a comforting smile that seemed strained more than anything else. He looked away to mess with the bowl to his side, wringing the cloth of the water it had soaked up before turning back to you.

“You had me worried there for a second,” he said finally, dabbing at the scratches on your cheek. “I couldn’t find you after you left the tavern, and then I heard the bell on the ship, which I thought was odd for this time of night. I go to investigate and you run right into me with one of my crew hot on your tail.”

You said nothing, eyelids drooping as you fought the urge to sleep that was quickly taking over. Jake worked methodically, dabbing gently at your cheek and wiping away the blood that stained your skin.

“You should get some rest,” he told you, dropping the cloth back into the bowl and moving to stand. You watched him, taking note of the way his brow furrowed and his lips pulled down into a frown. He set the bowl on one of the tables littering the wall before turning back to you.

“You must be exhausted after today,” he continued, making his way back over to you. He brushed the hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear before cupping your cheek gently. He bent down to press a kiss to your forehead, pulling away slightly, but still lingering.

“I mean it,” he chided, hands pushing you and guiding you to lay back, “you need to get some rest. We’ll talk later, alright?”

You nodded, eyes already falling closed as he retreated.

You awoke with a start, sweat clinging to your forehead as you bolted upright. The lingering feeling of being chased hung in the air as your chest rose and fell with every pant of air. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but the sun looked to be well in the sky from where you sat on the bed. It was at that moment that the door to the cabin swung open.

Jake stood in the doorway, a look of concern on his flushed face, as if he had been running.

“What is it?” He asked, breathless. “What’s wrong?”

You stared at him dumbly. “What?”

“I heard screaming,” he replied, brow furrowing as he inched into the room, the door closing behind him. “I thought something was wrong.”

You continued to stare at him as he padded closer, studying you.

“How’re you doing?” He asked finally, softly. The events of the night before rushed back to you. The feeling of helplessness, the pain, the fear. You thought about what Thomas had said to you, about wanting to feel relief, and a wave of anger crashed into you so suddenly that you were on your feet before you knew it. You stomped over to Jake, shoving at his chest. The captain was taken aback, stumbling backwards in his surprise.

“Hey!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up to defend against the blows of your fists against his chest. You ignored his outcry, swinging your hands blindly in front of you.

“Guppy, stop,” Jake said, scrambling to grab your wrists and stop you. You bared your teeth, rage pulsing through you much like it had last night.

“Dammit, stop!” He snapped, finally getting ahold of your wrists, stopping your tirade. The two of you stared at each other, panting from the exertion. Jakes eyes bored into yours, searching for what, you didn’t know. You yanked your hands free of his, pursing your lips in a tight frown as you studied him back. A warmth blossomed in your lower stomach, and your breaths grew labored for a different reason. Jake’s expression morphed into one of confusion, which didn’t last long as you leaned up to kiss him.

He let out a noise of quiet surprise before returning the kiss with enthusiasm. One hand moved to grip your waist, pulling you closer as the other snaked up to cup the back of your neck. Your arms wrapped around his neck, caution thrown to the wind as you moved your lips against his. Jake licked into your mouth, drawing out an embarrassingly loud noise from you. You felt the smirk against your lips, and a twinge of annoyance fluttered through the surface.

You pulled back, breathing heavy before pushing against Jake’s chest to dislodge yourself from his embrace. He gave you a puzzled look as you spun him around, pushing him down onto the edge of the bed. You hoisted your skirts up around you before settling down on his lap, once again attaching your lips to his. He let out a grunt that quickly dissolved into a moan as you began to rock against him, the hardness of him pressing into you through his trousers.

His hands settled on your hips, guiding you over him as his mouth devoured yours in a kiss that was more tongue and teeth than anything else. Your hands roamed his figure, up the span of his torso, over his shoulders, and into his hair. Your fingers entwined with his golden locks, scratching at his scalp and eliciting a drawn out grown from the man beneath you.

You clutched at his hair, yanking his head back harshly. Jake let out a hiss as his eyes focused on you. Green was swallowed up by the blacks of his pupils, and a look of pure lust adorned his face as you held him still.

“It’s your fault,” you spat, hovering your lips just over his. His brow furrowed once more.

“What?”

“He wouldn’t have gone after me if you hadn’t been avoiding me for weeks,” you continued, grinding down on the bulge in Jake’s pants. He gave a wanton moan as his eyes fluttered closed.

“Nothing to say?” You breathed, a moan escaping your lips as pleasure coursed through you.

“It wouldn’t have-fuck!” He groaned, “it wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t run from me.”

You let out a growl before yanking his head to the side, running your nose along his neck. You sank your teeth into the meat of his shoulder, drawing out a pathetic whimper as his grip on you tightened, the muscles in his neck straining as he fought for control.

You let out a startled yelp as you were flipped onto your back, Jake’s hands scrambling to untie the strings of your shirt, baring your chest to him. The cool air caused your nipples to start pebbling, your chest heaving as you gazed up at him.

Jake lowered his mouth down to capture one nipple between his lips, laving it with attention as a hand reached up to grope the other. Your back arched as you threw your head back in bliss, hands curling in the soft locks of your lover once more. Jake nipped and sucked at the skin of your breast before shifting his attention to the other, and you glanced down to find him already looking at you. A smirk ghosted on his lips as he trailed a hand down under your skirts.

His fingers brushed your lower lips, sending a shiver up your spine that left you wanting more.

“Look at you,” he cooed, running his hand up and down your slit, your wetness coating him as you moaned. “Already so wet for me. You get off acting like such a wild thing all the time?”

His thumb circled your clit, and you let out a high-pitched whine as you arched into his touch. The smirk was full-blown now as you clung to him.

“Don’t you worry, pretty girl,” he murmured, cradling the back of your neck to bring your forehead to rest against his. His nose nuzzled yours as your breaths came out in quick pants. “I’ll take good care of you.”

Slowly, he pressed a finger into your entrance, your walls gripping the digit tightly, and he let out a breath.

“Fuck, so tight,” he muttered more to himself than to you. You clung to him, fingertips digging into his shoulders as he slowly pumped in and out of you, adding a second finger before long.

“Such pretty noises you make for me,” he cooed once more, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before drawing back. You tried to chase after him, but he moved just out of reach with a chuckle. “You’re squeezin’ me so hard, darlin’. You gonna let go for me?”

You let out another whimper, the coil in your belly curling tight as you scrunched your eyes closed, and you fought to hold it off just a little longer. Jake tutted, moving the hand on your neck to grip your chin firmly. Your eyes fluttered open to meet his disapproving gaze.

“Don’t you go holding back on me,” he growled, speeding up the motion of his fingers, paying special attention to your clit. “Your pleasure is mine. Now give. It. To. Me.”

With a final thrust, the coil sprang, pleasure coursing through your veins as you let out a keening moan. Jake leaned forward, swallowing your pleasure with a debauched kiss that left your head reeling for air. He pulled away, and you gasped for air, sucking in lungfuls as you came down from your high.

Jake littered soft kisses along your neck leading down to your shoulders, and a new wave of need filled you. You ran a hand through his hair, the other reaching between the two of you to pull at the laces of his britches.

“Jake,” you breathed, looking at him through your lashes. “Need you.”

Jake pulled back with a huff of a laugh as he looked down at you, hands moving to help release him from his pants.

“Not even going to wait for us to undress?” He teased, sucking in a breath as your hand wrapped around his length.

“Need you now,” you insisted, stroking him. He let out a groan, shifting back on his haunches as you released him, spreading your legs with a whine. Jake hesitated, and you pouted up at him.

“What is it?” You asked, leaning up slightly to get a better look at him.

“It’s just,” he paused, pressing his lips together and turning his gaze away from you. “I need to know if this is real. If this is more than just anger, and adrenaline, and any feelings you’re having about the deadline coming up.”

You stared at him for a moment, processing his words. You sat up, taking his hand in yours and squeezing gently.

“You don’t have to worry about any of that,” you whispered. Jake looked back at you, eyes searching once more, and you gave him a soft smile that you hoped eased his worries.

“Kiss me,” you said. Jake returned your smile, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your lips. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him with you as you laid back. The kiss morphed into one that was more debauched, quiet moans falling past your lips as Jake trailed his own down your neck.

You reached down to grip him once more, spreading your legs and aligning him with your entrance. Jake wasted no time, leaning back to watch you as he pushed inside of you slowly. You let out a gasp, hands clutching at his arms as he filled you, the slight burn pushing the air from your lungs.

“Taking me so well, sugar,” he crooned, running his knuckles along your cheek. “So warm and wet for me, fuck. Could stay inside of you forever.”

His words had you clenching around him, and he let out a strangled moan.

“You keep doin’ that, and I’m not gonna last long, darlin’,” he chuckled.

“Need you to move,” you whimpered. “Need you to fuck me.”

Jake didn’t respond, instead leaning down to capture your lips in another kiss as he pulled his hips back, only to push them forward once more. He soon found a rhythm, and the sound of skin slapping and the cacophony of noises from the two of you soon filled the room.

“Feel so good,” he muttered in between kisses along your skin. Your nails dug into his shoulders now, legs wrapped around his waist, urging him on. “Never felt something this good, shit. Never wanna leave. Never want anyone else, just you. Squeezin’ me so hard, yeah. Just like that. I’m not gonna last much longer, darlin’, you just feel too good.”

“Need it,” you choked out, the coil inside of you on the brink of bursting once more. “Need to feel you.”

“Fuck, sugar,” he groaned, hips moving faster and losing their rhythm. “Want me to fill you up? Is that what you want?”

You nodded, moans escaping your lips left and right as you teetered on the edge.

“Dirty girl,” he huffed with a laugh. “Feel you clenchin’ around me. Don’t you worry, I’ll give it to you. Keep you nice and full, and then you’ll swell with me. You like the sound of that? Like the idea of me marking you from the inside out?”

Your hips bucked up to meet his, desperately chasing your release, and Jake obliged by slipping a hand between the two of you to toy with your clit.

“Need to feel you come around me, pretty girl. Then I’ll give you what you want,” he cooed. “Come for me.”

His words were all it took to send you over the precipice. Your moan caught in your throat, and your back arched as you came hard around him. Jake’s pace picked up before his hips stuttered, a moan leaving his lips as warmth flooded inside of you. He gave a few more shallow thrusts before stilling. His breath fanned across your neck, your fingers running through his hair.

Jake shifted off of you, pulling out of you with a quiet hiss as he shuffled to lay next to you. His hand gripped your waist, pulling you close with a sigh. You nuzzled into him, resting your head against the pillows as you held the captain in your arms, his head resting on your chest. Neither of you said anything for a long moment, just basking in the afterglow of your coupling.

“I love you.”

It was so quiet, you weren’t even sure you had heard it at first. Your fingers paused in his hair for a moment before continuing their path. Something swelled inside your chest, and you willed the tears to stay locked inside. What you were feeling would only serve to cause you more harm if everything went poorly, and still…

“I love you too.”

A/N: You all have the fact that I started watching Black Sails this weekend to thank for this. But seriously, I know I took an unexpected hiatus after everything that went on last month, and for a while there, I wasn't even sure about the future of this blog. Thank you all for sticking by me as I navigated what I was doing, and I hope to have more for you guys here soon!

As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. I no longer do taglists, so if you would like to be notified on when I post, please follow my sideblog ( @sailoraviator-library ) and turn on post notifications! You can find me and my works on AO3 under the username sailor_aviator. Until next time!

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orangecarton · 4 months

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Pt 2 Nordic Bunny x Reader WP (W.I.P.)

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Part one:

Here you are sitting in a sad break room chowing down on a bag of cool ranch doritos, because for some reason they didn't seem to have any other flavors. As you're munching Nordic Bunny tries to fit himself into one of the small break room chairs. They were obviously not meant for him but he seemed insistent on trying to sit there.

After a while he got himself awkwardly squished in the chair and triumphantly looks up to you.

"So huuuman, seeing as we are now friends AND hanging out. It is my right as your BESTEST BUDDY IN THE WHOLE UNIVERSE!!!... to be asking you some... bonding questions!"

He laughs off to the side and mumbles something about being so clever and tricking us into handing over our "planetary secrets", whatever that means.

"Oh yeah sure man, shoot." You reply between chews. Nordic Bunny grimaces then shakes his head.

"First question! What are Shred Force's weaknesess?"

You ponder that for a bit. No one really knew anything about the two rascals that called themselves "Shred Force". They kinda were just... there. Every now and then there would be some sort of monster and then they would show and blow up half of the city you lived in. But you really didn' know anything about what they dealt with and who they were, being more preoccupied with your own life and problems.

"Hmmm, I don't really know. I've never really interacted with them."

You shrugged, grabbing another chip from the bag.

"Wha- You gotta know SOMETHING! Ugh... Ahem, well then what, pray tell, is the weakness of EVERY SINGLE HUMAN? AND DON'T YOU DARE THINK OF LYING TO ME!!!"

"Uhhh... Well, everyone is kinda different so I wouldn't really be able to say..."

Nordic Bunny scowled at this. Trying to save face you make something up on the fly. Those improv classes you took during highschool better not fail you now.

"Buuut, most humans are weak tooooo-" You look around quickly looking for "HuManIty's gReatEst WeakNess".

"-uhhhhh ranch?"

"..."

"... Liste-"

"OF COURSE! IT ALL MAKES SENSE!!"

"Huh?"

"You humans have MOUNTAINS of that stuff! You just can't live without it! OH, how did I not see it before?!"

He abruptly stands up, knocking over his chair, and grabs you by your arm. Dragging you behind him once again.

"WE MUST PLAN FOR MY NEW BRILLIANT AND AWESOME SCHEME!"

"What scheme?"

"We will steal ALL THE RANCH FROM EARTH! AND THEN NO ONE WILL BE ABLE TO STOP US FROM TAKING OVER THAT HOPELESS PLANET!"

He laughs to himself, and you can't help but smile along with him. He has quite a nice laugh, in your opinion.

Walking back down the halls to his strange war room, the reality of your situation sinks in. You are stuck in space with a crazy 10ft tall guitar man who wants to take over the Earth... Hey, we'll at least you aren't hungry anymore!

You both make it back to the "war room". This time you get a good look around. It was filled with all sorts of tech, including a medium holo-Earth that Nordic Bunny seemed to gravitate towards. Towards the back end of the room was a huge window that made up most, if not all, of the wall. Around the sides were extra doors, lights, and tubes that you had no idea what they went to.

"Muahahahahaaa, oh yes I can see it now! We can even make little ranch stealing ROBOTS to do our bidding. AHahahahooo!"

He pulls you aside and starts rambling on and on about his plan, and you listen intensively. He just seems so passionate and creative! You can't help it!

A couple minutes later he calls over some of his minions to bring over blue print paper and a table. When they arrive they are heaving over a big metal table with some paper and pens on top. The two minions let it down with a bang and Nordic Bunny rushes over to it enthusiastically. They seem out of breath, how long have they been carrying that?

After they collect themselves one of them turns over and sees you. They turn back around and nudge their partner whispering to them, they both are now just staring and talking to each other.

Nordic Bunny takes notice of this and spins around, looking back and forth between his minions and you. You honestly could care less about what anyone thinks, but you don't really want to get caught up in whatever space drama is going on right now. So you're feeling, reasonably, a small bit uncomfortable at the moment.

"DON'T YOU TWO HAVE ANYTHING BETTER TO DO?!"

Before your eyes the two are blasted away by Nordic Bunny's hand and are now nothing but feathers.

"Wha- What the HELL?!"

You look incredulously at Nordic Bunny.

"Oh not to worry my dear compatriot! They are simply clones. Of MY design, might I add!"

He poses pridefully, looks back over to you then looks away awkwardly.

"Huh, uh cool."

Taking a breath in you walk over to the work bench he had been working at before to see unfinished sketches of what looks to be robot eels designed to steal... ranch. It does look super advanced though. At least more advanced than you could understand.

"Wow, you did all this?" You gesture to the blue prints and look up at Nordic Bunny.

"W- Why yes! I did!"

"Geez, this is some high level stuff. Super smart, and it looks so wicked!"

He appears to be taken aback by the compliment, donning a shocked expression on his face, then replacing it with a look of smug satisfaction.

"Of course it looks cool! Only the best made by yours truly!"

You snicker a bit at that and he grins then perks up. Grabbing you by the shoulders and pushing you towards the huge windows you saw before.

"AND! AND! The robots will be produced over there! In my very own factory!"

Your eyes widen at the sight before you. Through the windows you are greeted by a production line of sorts, all kinds of machinery moving rhythmically and in pace with each other. You squint and look past the factory and can somewhat make out... a city?

"Impresive!... right?"

You look over to the validation seeking guitar and nod, stars in your eyes.

"This is so freaking cool, dude."

You turn back towards the window to keep gawking at the machines. Unbeknownst to you, the overlord beside you doesn't look at his factory, but at his new partner in crime. With just the same amount of fascination.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

(TYSM FOR READING AND FOR ALL THE POSITIVE FEEDBACK FROM THE LAST POST)

(I will be crossposting this on ao3 here's a link:

(Here are some doodles B))

#nordic bunny #nordic bunny shred force #nordic bunny x reader #reader insert #shred force nordic bunny #shred force #sorry for the bad grammar #have a nice day

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sailorblossoms-snowbaz · 4 months

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Baz's raised eyebrow:

(yet another "Simon identifies as 'Baz-sexual' for very good reasons' post)

few things have annoyed me more with these books than when people do not take Simon's "I don't know anything about anything but maybe I'm just a Baz-sexual" comments seriously (dismissing it with a combination of not paying attention to what he's putting down and good old confirmation bias). He even says it in less "goofy" ways with lines such as "he's the only person I have ever wanted" (in the context of thinking about having sex) (note the emphasis on ever) (yes, it's one of the clues saying he didn't want to have it with Agatha, in case it's not clear)

"Like Baz has only ever wanted Simon, Simon has only ever wanted Baz," is necessary to bring up before I get to my point here. I have seen Simon being read as in love or attracted to Agatha ("he must have been or else how they had sex?"... I mean, Simon tells you why it happened without attraction, but even if he didn't, we could make an alphabetized list of reasons it can happen without it, the desire to fit in is no joke) or the idea of Simon liking all sorts of girls, including the girl he pointedly doesn't notice despite her being obvious to others, for the sake of drama and conflict. I have wondered if they don't believe the characters, or if they find the highlighted sentence here boring. "It's boring if the characters only want each other," "in real life people want multiple people" – indeed, but not everyone is wired the same (and why are we stuck on "real life" so much anyway in stories about half-dragon and vampire boys falling in love). But it's not like this sentence is without conflict. Note Baz's eyebrow...

In CO, when Simon says Trixie is cute, Baz's reaction is a boyish "I'm going to puke" comment, which is likely part of how he dealt with jealousy and thinking Simon was straight for years: masking his feelings with "harsh" or sort of "edgy" jokes (probably not the right words to use, but getting too hung up on precise wording is the reason I never finish these posts). In awtwb, Simon calls Pippa cute, and Baz raises an eyebrow...

By those reactions, we could say the idea of Simon calling someone cute because he finds them attractive crosses Baz's mind – or is something he feels in some way, even if the thought doesn't explicitly cross his mind. It's something the reader might assume as well... however, I don't think the way Simon uses cute – which can be used in many different situations – says anything about attraction for him. I mean, a gay man can see a girl being cute or gorgeous as well – Baz certainly does! (attraction is portrayed in these books as thoughts derailed, repetition, sentences being cut off, fixating in a detail no one else notices like they do – you see it with Baz and Simon, Agatha and Niamh, Shepard and Penny. Shep doesn't just call Penny cute – he loses his entire goddamn mind for a whole page about her cuteness and her knees. It's not just a passing comment).

I don't think those scenes when Simon says "cute" is highlighting something about him, other than the fact that he's able to note cuteness. I think it's saying more about Baz's insecurities (I know I once posted something long about it somewhere...) Baz brings attention to it in a way with his reactions... because he's bothered by it. It's something that's sort of hidden and sort of contained, but it's there.

Baz doesn't find himself desirable, partly because of his vampiric nature. But part of it is also about the complicated and messy fear that perhaps... Simon has a problem with being with a man (I know I have unpacked this in other posts, finding them though...). Perhaps "a girl would be better" (It's messier with boys than with girls, it's a thought that comes out before he catches himself with "I don't actually know anything about being with boys or girls".... "I don't know anything about being in a relationship," he says, while still being able to catch there was something wrong with Agatha and Simon's relationship when Simon talks about – because Simon will process things he would rather avoid when it's about opening up to Baz, he wants Baz to know things that would help Baz understand him better, even if he himself would rather not understand... still Baz can't let go of the programming of all those years believing in the golden couple – he has spent a longer time believing that than dating Simon, after all) (Agatha is alive and beautiful, the sort of beauty that's used to "embody" "desirability".... and Baz is "not alive"...) (as a side note, have you noticed the idea – or the actual action – of sex with Agatha is used both with Simon and Baz to indicate a lack of desire toward women?)...

While Simon thinks of Baz as the only person he has ever wanted – Baz is as desirable as it gets for him – Baz struggles with feeling desirable at all. Baz doubts and wonders and has to catch himself – even if he doesn't notice he's doing that. Even if he doesn't consciously think "a beautiful girl who is alive is more preferable than me, a gay male vampire." That is a far more interesting conflict than Baz having legit reasons to be jealous, I think. The fact that he has truly nothing to feel jealous about, and yet... he just can’t help it. It's hard to go against years of programming, of going against the idea that everything about yourself is undesirable and it's better to hide it – another way he matches with Simon. They also match in their insecurities, with small differences: Baz is so amazing and attractive while Simon doesn't feel like he's good enough for him, he can do better than him, etc... while Baz clearly only has eyes for Simon, Simon feels like Baz is merely stuck with him. And the conflict here is that you think "they need to TALK and voice their thoughts for the love of god, what do you mean Baz doesn't know Simon sees him as the love of all his lives??"... talking is not enough. That Simon and Baz only have eyes for each other is not without conflict. Sometimes we need to keep hearing some things, and even then... the fears and insecurities don't go away. Especially when we have spent a really long time believing ourselves to be unwanted, undesirable, something to be hidden. When we have been exposed to things that confirmed those beliefs for longer than we have been exposed to things that challenge them

#this is an old post (that was in my drafts)#i have been feeling like letting this blog go but I'm hauted by the 30+ posts in my drafts i never finished #snowbaz #long and barely comprehensible as always #i might have lost the point along the way #simon snow #baz pitch #simon snow trilogy #carry on #baz grimm pitch #baz x simon #awtwb #wayward son

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osamucide · 10 months

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plastic jesus

i don't care if it rains or freezes long as i got my plastic jesus sittin on the dashboard of my car!

wc: 1.5k

cw: gn! reader, dark era, alcohol, smoking, canon-typical violence, dazai-typical suicide mentions/attempts, language, fluff, crack?

reid: kind of chuuya's pov? he is so done with you both. bless his soul. you may also find this on my ao3 linked in my pinned. enjoy :)

. . . .ᐟ

The only other one to have been plucked up out of the dirt by the demon prodigy himself was that brat, Nakahara.

Okay, he wasn't that bad. He was a brat, yes, but you and Dazai certainly played your part in influencing him, and it wasn't like he'd ever take your place. Reason number one on a long list: the kid couldn't hold his liquor.

Teikyuu, some PM-adjacent bar, was your agreed-upon (by you and Dazai; Nakahara tagged along with only half of his own consent) haunt for the night. The interior was dark and decently crowded, dingy but cozy enough to be homely through the air of bar-typical disgust; a speaker pumped out bass from somewhere or another - it was reliable, wandering eyes minimal. When Dazai insisted on a fourth round of shots of American tequila, Nakahara laid his fiery head on the bar, groaning.

"What's wrong, Chibi-chan? Chibi-chan can't hang!" Dazai took every opportunity he could to taunt him. He reached across your lap to shove Nakahara's head upward, outward. "C'mon, Chibikko. You're a fuckin' bummer." Three more shot glasses, packets of salt, and lime slices were dealt in front of you.

Chuuya swatted him away, catching you in the crossfire. "Fuck off, dude, 'have s' much shit to do tomorrow." But shit to do would have to be done violently hungover, judging from the ginger's current state. You wedged yourself between the two before they could embarrass themselves.

"Chu-chan, you're whining," you chuckled, and his face grew as red as his hair.

"Am not! 'M not fucking whining," he insisted, but it sounded even whinier than before.

"Then do this shot with me." You nudged the little clear glass toward him while Osamu took up his own. Chuuya grumbled out a fine. There was one problem: Chuuya couldn't shoot his alcohol no matter how hard he tried, especially when he was already drunk. He didn't understand what the hell it was you two saw (or rather, tasted) in the rancid liquid that made you so eager to down it so cleanly. Regularly, his shots dribbled from the corners of his mouth onto his shirt, or he'd only get halfway through it, and he'd receive a firm reprimanding from one or both of you about wasting the precious substance. He preferred wine, or if he was in rare form cherry schnapps, but no one goes to the bar to drink wine! The two of you would never let him hear the end of it, so he drank the god damn tequila.

The three of you toasted to "your mom," having dedicated your previous three toasts to "this dick" (Osamu), "being enemies of the state" (you), and "how fucking much the two of you make me want to choke on my own vomit and die" (Chuuya). By the time you had downed yours, face clean and unmoved, Chuuya was still looking at his shot contemplatively.

"If you don't want it-"

He took it.

"'Atta boy, kid."

Both you and Osamu watched expectantly, enthusiastically for the recoil. Chuuya's face twisted up, and you poked the lime in his direction. When he coughed and looked toward you with teary eyes and a red nose, you and Osamu giggled like children.

"'S not-" He coughed a bit more. "'S not funny, assholes!"

But it was very funny to you, and the two of you only laughed harder as he hailed a cup of water. Amidst your fit, you nearly tipped your barstool backward - Chuuya might've moved to catch you if you weren't being so goddamn insufferable (and his head wasn't whirling), but his stomach barely had time to drop as Osamu was clumsily wrapping you, chair back and all, in his lanky arms, so short of breath from cracking up that he was almost wheezing. After you were upright again you continued to laugh for such a long time that Chuuya, in his disoriented and half-dissociated state, thought perhaps you'd both finally lost your god damn fucking minds. He was going to have to find his way home, hammered and alone, all because you and Osamu were flaming inebriated morons.

And then you got quiet. And Chuuya grew genuinely concerned, because the two of you were usually anything but (he'd learned that well enough from living sandwiched between both of your rooms in that crummy ass apartment building for the longest three-week period of his life). But you were just being even stupider now - foreheads pressed against one another as you calmed back into the steady drone of the bar music, whispering some things back and forth that he wasn't meant to hear.

Chuuya gagged audibly, and it had nothing to do with the taste in his mouth.

An hour and three shots later, you slipped your poor bartender a generous stack of bills and stumbled your way into the street. It was beyond Chuuya how you two seemed to be able to maintain a straight line as you walked - he trailed a bit behind you, feeling like the unfortunate lovechild of a pair of teen parents. You stopped to light up a cigarette (also an American brand) and he ran into you. He wanted to push back at the way you snorted, but he realized you were only doing so because he was toppling and you were holding him up. He bit back his bitching. You were stupid, sure, but he did let you drag him along after all, and his blood felt too hot and his mouth felt too sticky for him to send shots right now.

"You want a hit, Chu-chan?" But he waved you away because nicotine probably would've made him yark immediately.

Not once in Chuuya's short visceral life had he ever seen someone fluster Osamu Dazai until you, and vice versa. It made him nauseous to admit it was sort of cute, but even further, he'd never admit it made him nauseous because, truly, the two of you found joy in nauseating people with how in love you were. Though he'd never heard those words out of either of your mouths, it was excruciatingly obvious that you were two sides of the same coin. You looped your arm around his, Dazai took the other, and he trotted along in his stupor with your help, sandwiched in between you once again (and equally as annoyed about it as he was before). The smoke never left your fingers but Osamu hit it often, lifted to his lips above Chuuya's head. You guys talked about something, but he could barely keep up. He was fucking obliterated. All he knew was that your words joined seamlessly with Dazai's, your banter flowed like dual-colored beads being strung alternatingly down a cord, and the warmth between the two of you made him feel kind of soft. He knew that later in the early morning he'd be hunched over the toilet - he could picture it vividly, you would be pushing his hair back, Osamu would be calling him a pussy but rubbing his shoulder every so often, and it would be horribly gross and embarrassing and he'd feel like hot garbage - and yet, he'd undoubtedly still get the sense that he was sitting in the backseat of a honeymoon car.

He looked up at you once in the blur of the a.m. and took note of how rosily you glowed, and when he turned toward Dazai, it was like a mirror. Chuuya was aware of that list, too, and none of you were idiots - no matter how much Mori pushed it, no matter what Twin Dark even meant, you alone were the sole complement to Osamu, the dead ringer, the only one fully cognizant of and attuned to his turbulent unpredictability. Perhaps that was why you were heading toward the water with him now.

"You fuck!" one of you called; he wasn't sure which. Chuuya was too busy crumbling to the ground in a puddle of himself, sweaty and pinching your cigarette between his fingers. When had that gotten there?

And you chased Osamu off the rocks into the river, current unhurried, undemanding against both of your bodies when you fell in. Chuuya didn't think too much of it when you bobbed under, because he knew you'd come back up connected at the lips - no, ever since you, Dazai hadn't really wanted to kill himself. Not yet. He knew it that day you all went to get high at the beach when you asked him to jump in with you and he hesitated for the smallest second. Not human? Chuuya wanted to laugh. Dazai had suffered, yes, but Dazai had loved. That conceded dissent in that beat of silence was the most human thing one could hope to achieve, and god damn it, Dazai had done it, with everything he was, in the face of the human he loved the most. He'd jumped in with you anyway, but there was no intent to die.

Without fail, you both walked him back home, drenched.

#bsd dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #osamu dazai x reader #bsd osamu dazai #with love—reid

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blueywrites · 3 months

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JULY 1: firsts

rated: t. cw: language, drinking, references to foi word count: 1k

had an idea and just banged this out for @corrodedcoffinfest 🩵

the first time corroded coffin plays together - the current iteration of corroded coffin, anyway - is a goddamn hell of a mess.

they all share part of the blame, too; there's not one scapegoat to point the finger at. fuck-ups all around, eddie thinks, and somehow, the thought isn't bitter.

eddie's the oldest surviving member of corroded coffin. not 'cause the rest of the guys died, though in a way you could argue they did. died to the music; died to the dream when they moved up and along, leaving eddie behind. ronnie dealt the biggest blow with her departure less than a month ago, leaving her replacement - gareth - sweating behind her beat-up kit, trying to live up to that ecker magic.

the kid's the first fuck-up in the roster. he'd done just fine during practice, seemed to be comfortable with the material, even assured them he'd take over as their unofficial music director, the role ronnie always filled. it made sense for the drummer to fill that spot, though jeff offered to do it if the new guy wasn't up for it. that's it's own thing in and of itself, but we'll get to that. anyway, the kid insisted, shaking his fluffy mushroom mop out of his eyes and looking straight at eddie as he promised he had it, he could do it, no problem. didn't wanna let eddie down, maybe. had something to prove.

but when he walked out onto bev's rickety stage at the hideout, that bright-as-fuck beam from the one working spotlight hit him right in the face. the poor kid didn't have a chance after that. it was up to him to count them in, and all it took was three strikes for him to fumble his sticks, drop one with a discordant clatter to the plywood floor.

that was it. performance anxiety ate gareth up for the rest of the night, fucked him left and right - tempo, timing, consistency, it all went out the window.

so, yeah, drums are the backbone of a band, and gareth fucking up definitely struck a blow, but if the rest of the guys had been on, they probably would've been fine. thing is, though, that their bassist - eddie doesn't even wanna think his name, he's so fuckin' pissed at the bastard - just up and quit on them a day before the gig. for no reason, too; not like the others who'd been off to college, on to bigger and better shit. no, this guy just... wasn't feeling it anymore? eddie barely listened as he rattled off some vague explanation, pressing the plastic handset against his temple 'til it hurt so he wouldn't smash it back into the receiver and break wayne's kitchen phone. luckily, eddie thought of barry - a big dude from school he'd seen jamming in a friend of a friend's garage once - and after calling around to get his number, turns out barry was free and willing to help out.

and barry was a solid bassist, for sure. but his taste was less thrash metal, more hair metal, so he didn't have a whole lot of experience with corroded coffin's usual set list. and with only a day and a half max to prepare, it would take a certified savant to learn the parts well enough to compensate for the drums when gareth choked.

and remember how i said we'd come back to jeff? ah, jeff. the only member other than eddie who's been around the block with this band. nothing wrong with his playing whatsoever; jeff's always got his part locked down. but, see, his part is rhythm guitar, which is as much of a secondary instrument as you can get in metal where there aren't many instruments involved in the first place. and that night, corroded coffin didn't need a great rhythm guitarist; what they needed was a leader, a unifier. someone to light a fire under their asses and in their souls, someone to help gareth dig down deep and find his balls, someone to push barry to channel his inner steve harris and murder it on bass.

but jeff. oh, sweet jeff. jeff isn't that guy. he's the earnest guy, the kind guy, the shy guy who, when you get paired up with him for bio lab, offers to cut open the fetal pig for you even though he's queasy. but he isn't the fire starter. that's eddie, and it should've been eddie that night taking them all by the scruff of their necks and pressing their foreheads together with a hoarse shout that they're all "fuckin' metal."

except eddie was plagued by a wicked hangover that felt like satan was stomping on his gut and tea-bagging him at the same time. and should he have pulled an all-nighter the day before, drinking himself into a stupor and then passing out sprawled on the moldering couch outside the trailer, just so he could wake up damp and shivery and sick to his fucking stomach when it started raining less than four hours before they were set to take the stage?

well, no, he probably shouldn't have. but in his defense, his best friend didn't hug him when she left 'cause he fucked up their friendship, the girl he was into now hates him, and his son of a bitch father burned his house down, along with almost all his worldly possessions. so maybe we can cut eddie a little slack.

when all was said and done, corroded coffin limped through that set like a hound dog baying to be put down. was it the worst gig eddie's ever played? well, yeah, maybe it was, honestly.

but they can only go up from here, right?

and up they go. up, and up, and up - eddie, gareth, barry, and jeff. corroded coffin, those beautiful boys 🩵

#blueywrites #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #corroded coffin #corrodedcoffinfest #jeff stranger things #gareth stranger things #freak stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

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cookiesupplier · 7 months

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Every Rose Has Its Thorns - Part Twenty-Five

pairing: Ricky Olson x ofc x Chris 'Motionless' Cerulli

warnings/tropes: slow burn, soulmates, strangers to enemies to lovers, betrayal, angst, fluff, smut, language, panic attack, stalking, online bullying.

summary: In a world where soulmates inexplicably receive a tattoo that will match that of their soulmate the moment they turn eighteen years old, being famous and covered in very visible tattoos can make finding your true soulmate a questionable fate. For everyone involved.

author’s note: Unbeta'd, readers beware as always lol.

tags: @tearfallpixie @cncohshit @jordynyingling0219 @faceless-mirror @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @wild-child-7747 @witchyweeb34 @black-damask1999 @jilliemiw86 @ilovesamkiszka @lyschko666 @lacktoesandtoddlerants @bngurngheart @collapsedglasshouses @laurpartyprogram @sunsshinesunny @malerieee

Tag List is Open, please let me know if you would like to be added to it or in general.

Considering they had opted for the living room, they were just sitting around the coffee table when the food arrived, and dug into the boxes of Chinese, all of them passing the boxes back and forth in the end, trying a bit of each other's dishes, well, the vegan ones Chris could try anyway, Talia had chosen one herself, she was intrigued. He hadn’t talked her into it by any means, but some of the dishes sounded just as good as the meat options, when Ricky heard that he’d chuckled, only for Talia to roll her eyes and point out she didn’t think she could ever give up animal products entirely, sorry Chris. Now, they were talking about everything else under the sun, the week they had.. What they’d been doing.. Talia even was telling them about what Jordan and Kyle had been getting up to back home. Chris, he’d heard some of what she was saying as she was talking about her friends, about her week, from their afternoons having coffee with him, hearing about her exploring the town.. But Ricky hadn’t. It was good to see them talking, and getting to know each other.

They were all avoiding the elephant in the room.. Two elephants really if Chris was honest, Talia’s meltdown, and what was happening with Ricky’s video. Chris didn’t know if Talia had seen the video, he didn’t know if she’d been online at all since yesterday, and if he was honest, after the harassment in the first place, he wouldn’t blame her at all if the answer was a resounding no.

Glancing at Ricky, the fact that she hadn’t mentioned it, that she seemed calm, made him feel more and more certain, that he was right, no, she hadn’t been online at all, all day.

He couldn’t think about that now, not with her meltdown that morning. How she felt was entirely more important.

The real question was, which problem, was she willing to tackle first? The one with the entire world on her doorstep, or the personal one that was so heavy that had been on her doorstep, since she was eighteen years old.

Neither were excellent options. Sure the first one, they could be hopeful about, but Chris knew better, having dealt with the world of fandom, and seen the frenzy it could be whipped into, it could get nasty in a heartbeat, especially when soulmates were involved.

Chris was twirling his noodles around his fork, not only was it a fun way to eat them at home when you didn’t have to worry about being polite and neat, but he didn’t have the mental capacity tonight to focus on chopsticks, to poke at his noodles, so a fork it was. He glanced over as Talia put her dinner box, still half full, down on the table, rubbing her hands along her thighs, over her shorts,

“So, I suppose I should tell you about what this morning was about-”

“Jellybean you don’t-”

Talia pretty much cut him off with an audible sigh when she just looked at Chris as he started trying to comfort her and tell her she didn’t need to explain yet again, she knew it was coming, but she didn’t actually say anything. Instead, she smiled slightly, knowingly, as she glanced at Rick, and then seeing the guitarist blink at her like he’d been caught in the spotlight, swallowing his bite of food,

“What?”

“You told me off repeatedly this morning for making excuses for people. He might not be making an excuse, but he keeps telling me I don’t need to talk about my problems when I obviously have problems.. Hello..”

“Yeah, well, I happen to agree with Chris on this one. As much as I want to know whats wrong, talking about shit before you're ready, isn’t good. I think you know that already. Or were you not the one that taught Ava how to handle panic attacks?”

Talia’s breath caught in surprise when she heard that, just staring at Ricky for a moment as she tried to contemplate him even knowing that, glancing from him to Chris who shrugged and back to Rick,

“How did, how did you know about that?”

She watched as he frowned a little no idea what was going through his head, she had taught Ava about panic attacks sure, after her parents had died, she’d had something a bit like them, never diagnosed, but she had helped her learn how to calm herself down when she felt herself on the verge of a panic spiral so she could ground herself.

“Ava didn’t tell you?”

Talia shook her head slightly, Ava had talked to him about her panic attacks? She didn’t know that.. Not that she expected her to hide anything from the boys, but it was curious as to why it might have come up..

“I ah, while we were on tour, there was a moment I had an attack, not sure that it was panic, but it was something-”

“Rick-”

Talia reached for Chris’ hand without thinking when he went to comfort his friend, and Rick just shook his head,

“It’s alright Chris, there was nothing you could have done, nothing anyone could have done, I just, the guys were talking about soulmates, and kept talking about how we all had soulmates, and it kept feeling like constant pressure, the whole time we were on tour.”

“Yea, you know, none of us meant to make you feel like. I’m so sorry about that.”

Hearing Chris apologise, Talia’s heart clenched as she thought about how Ricky must have felt being stuck on that bus for two weeks, with no escape from the suffocating feeling of everything that had happening, no doubt thinking about it constantly, being reminded about it whether he liked it just seeing Ava, Vinny, every time soulmates were mentioned.

“Ricky I-”

“Seriously, Talia,”

Her eyes when wide looking over at Ricky, as he smiled softly, he didn’t snap, this time his tone actually sounded almost fond, and warm, and it surprised her,

“Are we really going to have this conversation again? No apologises for something that isn’t your fault, Sweetheart.”

Feeling Chris squeeze her hand gently, she looked over where he sat beside her, a warm smile on his face as he nodded ever so slightly towards her, only for her to look back towards Rick..

“Okay, so, sure, you both agree I need to stop apologising, I get it, but listen to this Richard Olson,”

“Oop, she full named you..”

“I’m in trouble.”

“I am allowed to feel bad that you were in that position because of the situation, I am allowed to feel horrible that you couldn’t get out of it knowing that Ava was stuck in her floofy soulmate bubble with Vinny.. And I’m allowed to be pissed.. At Grace for doing this to you.. Am I not?”

Watching his face, Talia had been sure he wanted to argue with her, as if he thought she blamed herself for the situation, and maybe she did, a little bit, if they hadn’t gone to the concert, he would have continued to live in ignorance, who knows when he would have discovered the truth. Vinny had known the truth, he had said as much.. He had been the one to really expose her, so Talia would like to think he would have exposed her before long anyway. It might have taken time, but it would have happened, and he’d have been alone

“Okay, yes, you are allowed all of those things, but my point still stands.”

Talia just smiled, shaking her head,

“I get it, but if you’re going to keep calling me on it, I’m going to start kicking you.”

Ricky sitting back in his chair shrugged and went back to eating another egg roll,

“I’ll invest in shin guards.”

Talia groaned with an eye roll when Chris just laughed.

Chris watched the two of them it felt so, refreshing, that they actually seemed to getting along now, enough that he was teasing her, even if she was groaning in frustration over his teasing.. But he saw that small smile on her lips and threw her head back when she did. He sighed, swallowing a little, letting her hand go so he could have some more of his noodle and twisted some more onto his fork and shove them into his mouth. It was nice when he could get vegan dishes alongside others at the same restaurants and didn’t have to go far out of his way. Before the band got bigger, it used to be harder, but, not to mention veganism, had grown more over time for various reasons.

Seeing the two of them together, he felt guilty, but there was a part of him that almost felt.. A little jealous. It was stupid, he knew, he didn’t feel this way with Justin and Laura, or Vinny and Ava, but seeing Ricky laugh with Talia now, it made him ache.. It was a twisted torment, wanting something he knew he couldn’t have.. Something that he was never going to have. No, no that wasn’t quite true either, when he looked at the pair of them, he yearned for, for.. God.. his why was his shoulder aching so much lately?

“Shit, Talia?”

Ricky gasped slightly, had just been laughing again, so he’d joked about getting a shin guard, and she’d made a remark about needing a different kind of guard instead. That's when they’d both started laughing, only for the next thing he knew, a surge to flare through his soulmate tattoo. A confused sound escaped him, as he dropped his now empty Chinese box on the table,

“Okay, so the joke was not that annoying, damn, why the upset Sweet?”

A soft wounded sound came from her as he glanced across the way, and he wondered what was wrong, noticing how she was rubbing her neck too, he couldn’t help but frown, what, what was wrong. Those eyes, those traitorously gorgeous eyes, traitorously so because there were moments he did think back to the party to watching her in the mirror just to see her eyes watching him.. And guilty he felt thinking about it, not to mention how tempted he felt thinking back on.. Not the time, Ricky, not the fucking time..

“I thought it was you?”

Her quiet voice brought him out of his mental scolding.. Wait, so, that little jolt to his tattoo wasn’t because she was annoyed at him, and he wasn’t annoyed at her..

“So now these things are just going to jolt us for no rhyme or reason? That makes no damn sense.”

At least before, he assumed that it was trying to send a message, trying to get them together.. Affecting him when he thought about her, when he was aroused by her, when she was aroused by.. Shit.. but this? This made no sense.. Rick saw Chris shifting next to Talia rubbing at his shoulder, frowning heavily like he was in pain,

“Are you alright, man?”

“Yeah, yeah, just, my shoulder’s been off the past few days.. I’m good, I’m good. So.. what’s going on, what was the joke?”

Ricky raised his eyebrow at that, glancing to Chris shoulder slightly, that, that was..

“Okay, no, no I really need to tell you guys about this, because if our tattoos are doing more than just being suped up on the soul bond, which was, admittedly, how I tried to think of it because I didn’t want to think of myself as going insane-”

“You weren’t going insane, I was going through it too.”

Talia rolled her eyes slightly at Rick interrupting her slightly, sure she knew that now, but she didn’t know that before, really wishing he wasn’t halfway across the room right now so she could slap his arm or something right now.. But, she had a feeling she knew exactly why he was over there. She knew from the moment he’d pulled away in the kitchen yesterday, just like she’d been itching to touch him the moment he walked in the door. The strangest part was.. It only eased when Chris had taken her hand, and right now, her fingers were twisted together in front of her, desperate to reach for him, for both of them.. What..

“I know that now Ricky, I didn’t know that then, and with what had happened..”

Swallowed,

“I told you how my dad tried to have me committed, right?”

While Rick nodded slightly, confirming he remembered, she expected Chris to be surprised, and when he reached for her hand, she realised Rick must have told him, glancing to Chris and seeing the look of understanding on his face,

“I’m sorry Talia, I told him this afternoon what you said to me yesterday, I suspected it might have to do with it, and I didn’t want you to be blindsided by Ava tonight. Our plan was actually to come to dinner to make sure she didn’t try to force you to talk about it if you didn’t want to yet.. Because she seemed hell-bent on it earlier.. So.. I told him, that way he’d know what I suspected and the stakes of what you could be dealing with.”

Talia’s eyes were tearing up as she looked at Ricky, how, for an asshole that had been doing nothing but thinking of himself..

“Oh shit, Chris, I can’t.. She, I’m making her cry..”

Ricky hated that he was on the other side of the room when Talia looked like she was about to start crying, he’d fucking upset her all over again. What the hell was wrong with him,

“Chris, man, can you..”

Seeing him already moving closer to her, his arms wrapped around her tiny frame and Ricky felt horrible that he fucked up, yet again as he watched the tears spill down her cheeks when she leaned into Chris as he leaned in and whispered to her. She nodded quickly, and he wished he could hear.. Holding on to the arms of the chair in the single-seater sofa he was in to stop himself from moving, his grip so tight his fingertips were turning white.. He didn’t want to make this worse for her. Fuck. When she leaned into Chris, pressing her face into his chest, Ricky just couldn’t stand it anymore. Practically vaulting himself from his chair,

“Rick, wa-”

However, Chris’ warning fell on deaf ears when he was already there, his hand running up her back,

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I shouldn’t have sa-”

Before he could even finish Talia had twisted between both of their arms to almost throw herself around him, her arms wrapping around his shoulder, her face nestled in the side of his neck, with muffled words he could barely hear… but he heard them, and he looked over to Chris with wide eyes when he realised that he’d read this entire situation wrong.. The smile slowly spread across the other man’s face.

“Thank-You.”

Diviers by @saradika-graphics

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number1aaronhater · 1 month

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ships in mystreet

First, this is not going to the regular Aphmau/Aaron slander that people give for ships in mystreet I'm going to me diving deep into my hatred of every single canon ship in mystreet.

First let's start with the infamous Aaronmau.

This ship has so many problems to the on and off romance in the earlier seasons, possessive and obsessive behavior from Aaron, and the devious age gap, it makes the ship something Jesson shouldn't have been romanticing. I get it's based off their real relationship but even Jess admits that the start of their relationship was not the best so why she would choose to not only add it to her story but also glamorise it to her fairly young fanbase is not okay. Yes it series technically started when they where adults but in a series that they made based on this they not only didn't just make it so they were in the same grade or something but they made it so she was a freshman and he was a SUPER SENIOR.

I can't get over why Jess thought it was a good ide to put it in her story. And not only did their relationship start very dubious it was also super toxic it glamorised Aaron's obsessive and stalker-ish behavior. Aaron obsessed over a 15-16 year old girl as a GROWN MAN IN COLLAGE.

in later season as their relationship becomes more stable, Aaron still shows some of this toxic behavior and then Jesson thought using the amnesia trope TWICE would make use feel for aphmau and Aaron it didn't. Aphmau's trauma was dealt with so poorly and this is coming from someone with C-ptsd. When they get engaged I felt more horrified then when I found out ein (Aphmau's half-brother) tried to make her his sex slave. The only reason I even kept watching was because I wanted to see ein because he was my favorite (before the whole sister debocal.) and for the other characters, Zane, Katelyn literally every other character but the main two were my favorites.

Anyway list post is getting far to long, sorry for any grammar mistakes.

#mystreet season 7 #aphmau #aphmau mystreet #aphmau rewrite #mystreet #rant #long reads #bad grammar

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general--winter · 2 months

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May I please request headcanons for Naoto, Yu, and Kanji reacting to their S/O having anger issues and snapping when a bully goes too far?

author's note: So, hi y'all! i've had quite a year, i'll make a post later. I wanted to clear out the one or two things I had already finished in my WIP folder, though, so this is my return for now.

rating: teen

fandom: persona 4

pairing: shirogane naoto x gn!reader, narukami yu x gn!reader, tatsumi kanji x gn!reader

word count: 1336

summary: you stand up to your bullies! wish i was this brave when i was in high school and college LOL

Naoto Shirogane

For months, Naoto has heard story upon story about how you have been putting up with crap from a group of people in your club. It’s all endless, from how they give you backhanded compliments about your skills to them “accidentally” giving you the broken equipment and watching you fail over and over again for their amusement.

Honestly, you weren’t even aware of half of the incidents being their fault, Naoto had to be the one to sneak into your club room to investigate and find that your stuff was being tampered with in the first place. She absolutely hated breaking the news to you, but she knew she had to tell you the truth. What wasn’t expected, however, was the pure rage that shot through your eyes. Naoto thought there might be sadness, maybe even tears if you were particularly emotionally vulnerable at that moment, but this was so unlike you. “Let me handle it,” is what you told her. She kept her eyes on you from then on.

Which is exactly why she caught the beginning of the incident the next day over lunch. A leader of your club struck up a conversation with you at your desk, and Naoto immediately noticed you were snippy with them. It wasn’t until they dealt a snide comment, however, that you slammed your hands on your desk, sending your empty bento flying to the floor and catching the attention of every student in the room.

What came out of your mouth next could be described by Naoto as… needlessly vulgar. You tore into the leader, listing off bullying incident after incident in cruel detail, as well as what it said about the leader and their deepest insecurities that they actually did those things. It wasn’t for a few moments until Naoto realized that she had helped you put that list together (...sans emotional damage, of course) herself if you ever decided you wanted to go to the principal with the information. Oh, dear, she would think. I really should put a stop to this.

While you were in the process of tearing the club member down with a snide smirk, talking about how “their efforts will only set their own club performance and university admissions back” and “if they wanted attention so badly, well now they’ve got it undivided from the entire room”, Naoto took a hold of your wrist and dragged you out of the room, gently sliding the door shut.

Your breathing haggard from anxiety, she would drag you to a barren corner and tentatively hug you for a long time before pulling back and placing her hands on your shoulders, suggesting with a sigh: “I’m proud of you for sticking up for yourself, but next time do not use my data for your vigilante justice? Please?”

Yu Narukami

The last week of school was rough for everyone, but particularly you. On top of winter semester finals, you had to deal with a… let’s say, cast of characters that leeched on to whatever insecurity you radiated and made it as much of their problem as it was yours. Underhanded compliments, disguising random rude gifts as acts of kindness… Yu especially hated it when they played you into thinking they were your close friends. Couldn’t you see that the Investigation Team was more supportive of you than they could ever be? Couldn’t you see that he was trying his best to lift you up when all they wanted to do was bring you down?

But Yu isn’t about forcing people into their decisions. As much as he has a soft spot for you, he’s going to let you figure this one out yourself, of course with his own support. More times than he could count, Yu listened to your suspicions with an open ear and a sympathetic face, always reminding you of your positive traits. It was the only thing he could think of that would help, but your sorrow turned to anger slowly. Almost too slow for him to notice.

He’ll be clued in real quickly, though, when he sees you flinging a tray of “food” at a group of people crowded around you on the school roof. He’ll be shocked - Yu’s never seen you get violent with anything but Shadows. He seriously thought you didn’t have a mean bone in your body. However, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit of pride for his partner standing up for themselves. Maybe, you could hold back on the string of curses that flow from your mouth, though!

After this event, when the bullies run off covered in whatever mystery substance they had placed in your lunch box, Yu is there to sit beside you as the weight of your actions hit you.

“I… I just threw that shit at them,” you murmured to yourself, barely registering Yu’s presence beside you.

“You stood up for yourself, he clarified, just sitting down to wrap an arm around your shoulders. “I’m proud of you.”

Kanji Tatsumi

Kanji has always wanted to handle the problem himself. Every time he finds you upset or you have yet another problem with a bully, he’s ready to throw his weight around to close their mouths for you. You always refuse though, with a level of grace that sends Kanji into a fit that he has to tamper down. He wished he could take away every single problem in your life, but he trusted you to do it in the way that was best for you. However, that smile on your face was always there when everyone shit on you. Gleaming, wide, mistakenly joyous. But it never reached your eyes. It wasn’t even like Kanji’s own situation. He chose to look and dress and act the way he does. But you were being bullied for something you couldn’t control. It drove him, for lack of a better term, damn crazy. Which is why he was giddy when he caught the scene in front of Yasogami after school that day.

A circle of students were gasping and egging on some sort of event happening in the middle. With his shoulder, Kanji easily wedged into the inner ring, though he seriously couldn’t believe what he was looking at when he got there. You were hammering your knee into the stomach of the ringleader of the group of bullies, propping up their body with a fist in their uniform collar to take more blows. In between the crowd's noises, you cried out, "This is what you get for every. Single. Terrible. Hurtful. Word!" Before he could think anything, he was pulling you off of the bully, arms hooked under your shoulders, feet dragging against the concrete and asphalt as Kanji once again split the crowd. This time, it was his mere presence that had people parting easier than Yaso-Inaba's fields of wild grass in a storm's wind.

You didn't struggle against him at all, your limbs just went limp while Kanji carry-dragged you down the pathway to the Samegawa Floodplain. Kanji was proud of you for standing up for yourself. That was the first thing he told you after he sat you on top of his jacket on one of the walkway's benches, misted from the afternoon rain sputter.

Despite his words, your thoughts swirled. What had you just done? You never thought of yourself as the type of person to just… snap in public like that, but it happened. The lid on your ugly thoughts and feelings came undone, and you'd let them loose. Kanji settled next to you, placing an incredibly stiff arm across your shoulders as you shoved your face into your hands. "I know I'm not—shit… the best person to be lecturin' on this, but," he started, his voice gruff and unsteady, "you stood up for yourself, right? Maybe starting a walloping like that in the school yard might not have been your best moment, but, what I'm trying to say is, y-you did good. In my book, at least."

#persona #persona 4 #persona 4 fanfiction #naoto shirogane #naoto shirogane x reader #yu narukami #yu narukami x reader #kanji tatsumu #kanji tatsumi x reader #gender neutral reader #request #headcanon #i had a huge crush on yu when i was a senior in high school and i think this shows here

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imogenkol · 8 months

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— WIP WEDNESDAY

tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @adelaidedrubman @florbelles @marivenah @simonxriley @voidika @kyber-infinitygems @inafieldofdaisies @socially-awkward-skeleton @aceghosts @carlosoliveiraa @risingsh0t @unholymilf @cassietrn @jackiesarch @gwynbleidd @shellibisshe @loriane-elmuerto @katsigian @statichvm @captastra @simplegenius042 @theelderhazelnut

It’s Wednesday my dudes. have a snippet of this OG thing I’ve been freshening up. I might post the rest of it within the next couple weeks, but for now enjoy the girls having a totally normal coffee date :)

“So, Jay,” Nadya said coyly, lifting her steaming mug of coffee up to her lips for a quick sip, “Is this a date?”

Jayde released an amused breath as she scanned the humble cafe before settling back on her with a crooked grin. “What else would it be?”

The irresistible warmth of her brown eyes reflected the string lights that hung in the window they sat by, adding a twinkle to her next lighthearted words. “Well, you did try to pass it off as a stakeout, but I’m not so sure it is.”

Nadya only teased to relieve some of the tension. They were on a stakeout. Jayde had received word of hunter activity a mere few towns away from The Lodge. Far too close for comfort. If it were up to her, Jayde would have come by herself and dealt with the situation before it got out of hand, but even she knew when to approach a problem a little more tactfully. Besides, she would draw too much attention on her own. Two young women enjoying coffee together? Couldn’t get more normal and inconspicuous than that.

Which was why the two of them had been there all morning, seated by the window with the best view of the main street. Though, Jayde also kept a very watchful eye on every customer that came and went. Anyone could be an enemy.

Nadya didn’t serve only as cover. Stakeouts could take days and Jayde could hardly stand being separated from her for hours. Surely it wasn’t so bad to utilize some of the downtime to enjoy her company.

“You caught me,” Jayde replied with a smooth sarcastic timbre, crossing her arms on the table and leaning in. “I made up the hunters so I could drag you to a random coffee shop an hour and a half away. Figured you were bored with the one at home.”

Nadya leaned in, too, and matched the wolf’s smirk. “You’re so romantic.”

Jayde eyed the display case of freshly made pastries and various other baked goods by the front counter, the scents of which were almost nauseatingly sweet, but no less enticing. “How about I buy you a piece of pie to make up for it?”

One of Nadya’s brows shot up in intrigue. “You really know your way to a woman’s heart, Jayde Thatcher.”

“Proud to say that I know yours very well,” she replied with a wink and got up.

Jayde made her way to the counter and returned the barista’s warm smile and greeting. She had learned enough not to have to rely on her heightened senses in order to tell if a stranger was genuine or not, but Jayde always found it more difficult to discern when it came to customer service workers. It impressed her. If Jayde had to deal with ill mannered stupidity every day for hours on end, she would not have the patience to maintain a happy-go-lucky act in the slightest.

The boy manning the espresso machine behind the woman taking her order didn’t seem to have that particular talent, either. He grumbled profanities under his breath and hit every visible button, but the machine only stuttered and grumbled in response.

Jayde ignored it and motioned to the display case as she fished a few bills out of her pocket. “I’ll take a slice of the pecan pie.”

The barista accepted the money, her grin still present even when another coworker groaned loudly as they swooped in to save the — no doubt expensive — espresso machine from further abuse. “We could warm it up for you, if you’d like?”

“Sure, sounds great,” Jayde answered, dropping her change in the tip jar and returning to her table.

“What’s the plan if we find hunters?” Nadya asked as soon as Jayde sat back down.

The blonde shrugged and took a swig from her mug. “Depends on how many there are. If it’s only a few, I can take care of it. If it turns out to be a big group, we’ll have to go back to The Lodge and figure out a plan to lead them away.”

The human’s expression grew a bit dark. “By take care of it, you mean…”

“Nadya, you know I can’t let hunters be this close to us.”

“I know,” she said quickly and gripped her mug in both hands. “And I know what these people do. I’m not trying to argue against it.”

“You don’t have to be involved,” Jayde assured her.

“I already am,” Nadya said quietly.

Jayde didn’t realize until that moment that Nadya was right. The concept hadn’t even crossed her mind. Killing hunters had become second nature to her after so many years of survival. Jayde hated them. She hated the constant threat they posed to her family. Wiping a hunter out of existence was just as easy as getting rid of any pest. But regardless of how she felt about it, the truth was it was still taking a life. Nadya preserved life. It went against her nature to cause harm. Jayde loved her for that. The fact that she unintentionally made her complicit felt like a worse offense than murder, and it hadn’t been the first time.

Jayde shook her head and stared down at the contents of her mug in shame. She felt so selfish for taking her human girlfriend on such an endeavor instead of Toby or even Skye. “Fuck, I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought you with me.”

“No, no,” Nadya said quickly and rested her hand on Jayde’s. “I chose to come. I want to help keep home safe – keep you safe, I just… I guess I’m still trying to accept everything that comes along with that.”

A very brief smile tugged at the corner of Jayde’s mouth. She appreciated the bravery it took for someone like her to be a part of this, but also understood the grim reality that Nadya must come to terms with about the life she now had to live. Half of Jayde was shocked it hadn’t scared the human away from her yet.

“I know,” Jayde said solemnly.

“Here’s your pie,” a young male voice interrupted.

Jayde looked up to see the boy who struggled with the espresso machine place a plate down between them, along with utensils and napkins. He seemed in better spirits now, but he still avoided their gazes with a reddish tint to his soft features. Jayde heard the thrum of his heartbeat and felt a small measure of pity for his embarrassment.

“Thank you,” Nadya said warmly with a grateful smile. The boy nodded and walked away. Then she addressed Jayde. “Let’s pause the morality talk for some pie, yeah?”

Jayde laughed at the lighthearted suggestion and the playful look on Nadya’s features as the girl dug in. “Pie beats morality every time.”

Nadya chuckled and shook her head, but still shrugged in agreement. She speared another bite onto her fork before she even finished chewing the first. “You want some of this? It’s pretty good.”

“Sure,” Jayde accepted and reached for her own fork.

As soon as her fingers made contact, a violent burst of white-hot pain assaulted her skin. It shocked her enough that she dropped the fork unceremoniously and sent it clattering against the ceramic plate and onto the wood table with a few loud clangs. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw startled heads snap in their direction from around the entire cafe. Nadya jumped a bit in surprise, too, and stared at Jayde in question.

The werewolf had about half a beat to understand and react. The fork was silver. It had been intentionally placed as a trap to expose her. There were no doubts within her mind. Somewhere in the shop, a hunter had their eyes on her.

Jayde would not give them the satisfaction. The encounter had to be on her terms. She needed to pretend the slip up had been a regular case of mundane clumsiness.

With a shake of her head and a light laugh, Jayde met Nadya’s confused gaze and forced herself to pick up the fork again.

Agony flared across her entire hand as if she had reached into a furnace to pull the utensil out. Jayde dealt with silver fairly often, but never so voluntarily. No matter how many times she endured direct contact, she just never got used to the unique burn of it. Seconds ticked by like minutes as it felt like her skin was being flayed off with a molten knife. It took all of her willpower to keep a calm expression.

“It’s okay,” she told Nadya quietly through clenched teeth, trying to keep her hand from trembling as she speared a bite of the pie. “It’s silver.”

Nadya’s eyes widened as she glanced down at her hand in alarm. “What are you –?”

“Relax,” Jayde instructed. She placed the bite in her mouth, careful not to come in direct contact with the silver more than she had to, and set the fork back down. The relief was so immense after she let go that she almost slumped in her chair with a heavy sigh. “What coffee shop has genuine silver utensils?”

Jayde saw Nadya’s swift thought process put it together in hardly a second. She put on a calm façade just as quickly and casually took another bite, though the sudden scent of her fear caused the wolf in Jayde to stir protectively. “What do we do?”

“Just finish our stuff,” Jayde answered plainly and tried to hide her injured hand. “Then we’ll take a walk and see if anyone follows us.”

“Your hand,” she said and reached across the table. Her fingers gently wrapped around Jayde’s wrist and subtly twisted her palm upwards to inspect the damage with a glance. In an effort to pass it off as flirtation, she caressed all the way up Jayde’s forearm and picked off a loose thread from her jacket. It wasn’t all an act. Jayde felt the underlying effects of her genuine comfort.

Jayde flashed an easygoing smile and shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

A quick grimace of concern came across Nadya’s face and Jayde guessed it wasn’t only for her hand. The stakeout suddenly became very real. Jayde’s own fear for her beloved human’s safety gripped her heart in a vice, but she pushed it aside in order to stay focused.

The two of them continued on as if nothing was wrong, hoping to throw the hunters off. Jayde still felt a deep unease at the back of her mind that grew steadily by the minute. It told her they definitely hadn’t gone unnoticed or completely diffused suspicion. Eyes were on them and it took more than a little self control not to look.

Once they finished up, Jayde nodded and they casually headed towards the exit. Again, she felt those eyes on her back, scrutinizing their every movement. Her spine prickled.

She pulled Nadya close and instructed her quietly, “Do not leave my side unless I tell you to.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” the human replied and laced their fingers together.

#oc insp: Jayde Thatcher #oc insp: Nadya Bishop #ship insp: woven and thatched #Jayde is a take direct action kinda gal #and don’t worry. Nadya does eventually get to kill as a little trauma-I mean little treat.

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queenwendy · 28 days

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Sometimes I get morbidly curious and scroll through the terf tag (bad idea) and half the time it makes me sad but the other half it makes me laugh my ass off because like… they seem to think anybody can walk into a doctor’s office, declare “I am trans!” And just get sex reassignment surgery??? Like, what???? That isn’t how that works at all

I’m a trans woman in the western US, and I am lucky enough to have A) supportive family and B) really fucking good healthcare through my family. To be clear, if you do not have A and especially if you do not have B good fucking luck getting blockers, much less hormones or dear god surgery! It’s nigh impossible!

In early 2018 when I was almost 15, I came out to my parents. Immediately I was put in therapy (that had more to do with the depression and suicidal ideation I experienced while in the closet than being trans). While social transition (different name, different clothes) happened pretty quickly, it wasn’t until my mental health stuff was dealt with that my therapist and doctor, both on the trans youth specialist team, started talking HRT.

The first step was puberty blockers. To get that approved I not only needed parent permission and a ton of forms, I was all but required to bank sperm (as a 15 year old!) and I had to socially transition and meet a bunch of WPATH requirements (I actually like WPATH a lot, to be clear) and wait through a months long waiting list just to get an appointment with a psychiatrist, who then asked me a bunch of questions (he was nice, I do not remember the questions, this was years ago) to ensure I didn’t have some other problem. After passing that, I got a prescription for nogonadotropin as a puberty blocker.

From the time I first told doctors I was trans to the time I had my first blockers shot, a little over 6 months had passed. To be clear, in the US, that’s fast. In the UK? That’s impossibly fast.

It then took another 6 months of blood test, questioners, meetings with my doctor and my parents and my therapists before I was finally cleared for estradoil tablets. 1 mg/day. I got them nearly on the year to the day from when I came out. I was nearly 16

Again, that is crazy fast.

Within a year and a half my estradoil doseage had increased to 6mg/day and I was on 100mg/day of progesterone as well. Eventually that became 200mg/day. Years later I switched from estradoil tablets to estradoil shots.

The entire time I have seen the same therapist, not just for trans healthcare but also mental health stuff. I got SSRIs for anxiety, got an ADHD diagnosis, etc.

In fall of 2022 (I was 19), I reached out to my doctor to say I wanted bottom surgery. We had talked about doing it before, but I had always said “I don’t know if I’m ready.” I was unsure. And even though I could have gotten at least an orchiectomy after I turned 16 if I really wanted to (with parental permission and I am sure so much medical red tape I would have been an adult by the time it happened), I never wanted it. My doctors were surprised I wanted it, so were my folks.

I had to meet with my therapist several times, coordinate with a social worker, and get 2 or 3 letters of recommendation from doctors. Then I needed to unravel who and what my insurance cost and find surgeons I wanted to consult with. That took MONTHS. It wasn’t until fall of 2023, a full year later, that I was FINALLY was able to schedule with two of the three surgeons I wanted (we’ll get to that third one in a bit).

It is now the last days of august 2024. I had my first consultation, which was out of state, earlier this month. It went well. If I had scheduled a surgery date right then and there, there would have been a year long wait time. Which again, is a very very small wait time. I didn’t though, because I wanted to consult with other surgeons and I knew that would be smack in the middle of graduate school.

My second consultation (which, ugh, I need to do some phone calls for to figure out transportation!) is in a few months. The third one? I’m still on a waiting list to GET A CONSULTATION.

To be clear, neither my parents nor my doctors ever pressured me into anything. My folks were completely blindsided when I came out and had basically no idea how to proceed besides using a different name. My doctors always said “well, here’s your options and all the risks. You want that? Okay, think on it for a month and we’ll discuss next steps at our next appointment.” All of this was my choice. Mine. And they never tried to stop me either, just make sure I was being safe and following procedure.

Both my younger sister and my cousin on my mom’s side are trans as well. Considering we have several blood relatives on that side of the family who are also LGBTQ+ going back at least to the 1940s, assume there’s a genetic predisposition for it. Both my sister and my cousin have had a lot harder of a time getting HRT, even though my sister has the same insurance, same provider, same psychologist as me (idk what my cousin’s insurance situation is).

Odds are, I will have my graduate degree (environmental engineering) before I undergo surgery. Maybe even before I have a date for undergoing surgery. If all goes well, I graduate in may 2026. I’ve agreed with my girlfriend that once we graduate in 2026 if we’re still together I’ll feel comfortable getting engaged, so it’s very possible that I will be fucking married before I get SRS. Y’know, assuming it isn’t outlawed or anything.

When I was 14, I figured out I was a girl. Without talking to anybody, I knew I wanted a female body and that the puberty I was going through wasn’t right. Looking back, there were times I almost knew when I was 11, when I was 7, when I was only 3. At that age, I considered “surgery is something I might do when I’m older. I dunno. Right now I have crippling depression and cheat dysphoria, I really just want to be called the right name and pronouns and have HRT.”

I am now 21. I haven’t undergone any surgeries in that time, at all (except wisdom teeth removal ig. Does that count?). I have had one (1) SRS consultation, and the soonest I could get surgery is a year from now, but odds are it will be in two years. Maybe three even.

There is no epidemic of children being told they are trans and getting surgeries. That doesn’t fucking happen. If you’re really worried about kids getting unnecessary surgery look into the weird world of rich white girls getting facelifts and breast enlargement surgeries and stuff. At no doctor’s office in this country can you walk in with one set of genitals and walk out with another at the drop of a hat. There is a YEARS long medical process that happens before a consultation is even scheduled. And before that there is a trans person’s entire earlier life of doubt and questioning and fear and pain.

#trans #transgender #trans healthcare #transgender health #srs #hrt #vaginoplasty #terfs up up to their usual bullshit agian #tw: transphobia #tw: terf #tw: suicidality #just mentioned tho #those thoughts happened almost a decade ago now #wendy's posts

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carriehobbs · 8 days

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i would love to talk about juno 💕💕 !!

(these are probably not the best screenshots of juno but they are also my favourites. the first one because it shows the colour of her eyes and her little under-eye mole (the most important thing in the world) and the second one because i like how her armour looks and the shine on her hair)

juno is my other (and first) redemption durge! she's a wood half-elf ranger (hunter subclass, urban tracker/bounty hunter specs) who romanced gale! she fits very well into the selfless hero archetype she gets cast as during the adventure, but her only talking-to-people stat is intimidation, which i choose to represent as her having an off-putting and kind of threatening energy with strangers. anyone who knows her knows that she's a caring person, but she always reads as just a little bit dangerous to others. i miss playing her so much because she was completely unstoppable in combat (with 3 attacks (two main hand and one offhand that dealt almost as much damage), a cape that turns her invisible, 16m/approx 52 feet of movement speed, and an ac of 23).

juno's post-game breakdown (which is what i said i wanted to talk about the other day) is kind of a two-hander. firstly, it lets me play with one of my favourite tropes of all time: when an amnesiac character is immediately given a new (and often important) job upon entering a community, builds their entire identity around being the person who does that job, and then loses the ability to do the job (either permanently or temporarily). imagine that your entire sense of identity, self, value, purpose, etc., was all tied to one particular thing. the only person you have ever known yourself to be is the person who does this thing, but now you don't have that thing anymore. so who the fuck are you?

in juno's case, she doesn't remember her life leading the bhaalist cult. i know in act 3 you get some memories back, but i prefer to think of it more like she is able to remember some key details of her life that were previously lost to her and can remember some things that happened, but not everything, and that those memories don't really feel like they're hers. she knows objectively who she was and what she did, but it feels more like seeing someone else's memories rather than her own. she feels like her life started with the nautiloid crash.

this means that her entire life (that she remembers) involves solving everyone's problems, saving the day, and stopping the cult of the absolute. it's the only purpose she's ever had. it's the only context for her life that she's ever been given. she's always been needed. she doesn't see herself as "a person who happens to be doing this important quest" but as "the person who does this important quest", which is a subtle but significant difference.

and then she achieves her goal. she realizes her life's purpose. and she's still here, existing, except now she's directionless. she leaves one of the only cities she's ever known for a city she's only ever seen part of in one of gale's illusions. all of her friends (the only people she remembers being close to, the only family she remembers having) go their different directions and find new ways to give their lives meaning. and juno goes with gale to waterdeep.

and juno is genuinely thrilled to go to waterdeep and to marry gale. and at first things are going well, when they're in that honeymoon period as they first settle in. i think things start going south after gale starts working at blackstaff. because now she has empty hours to fill with her day while he's at work. she has no purpose anymore, she's in a brand new city, and her social circle has been reduced to her boyfriend, his mom, and his flying cat (who doesn't seem to like her that much). wedding planning can only occupy her so much. she doesn't even have a job to just fill her time. and given that the last two jobs listed on her resume are "ex-bhaalist cult leader" and "saviour of baldur's gate" and her professional skills are "murder", she's not exactly in a great position to get a job at waterdeep's fantasy walmart.

and, as much as i love gale, he gives me the impression of someone who can get a little too absorbed in their work. considering he's just returned from a year-long self-imposed seclusion followed by a quest to stop the illithid grand design, this is the first time he's been back in a wizardly and academic environment in a while. he's also not had a mortal partner for quite some time and thus not had to balance his professional life with his personal life the way he does now. so as much as he loves juno and wants to be a good partner to her, i don't think it's unrealistic to imagine him getting a little too caught up in his work and having some late nights at blackstaff.

which would be fine, except juno's now the partner who waits all day for him to come home, only for him to be late. which isn't a position she could ever be happy being in. she needs something to do, something to drive her. she's never been idle (or relaxed) before.

all of this (the directionlessness, the lack of purpose and meaning, the almost nonexistent social life, the idle time) is compounded by the second major component of juno's post-game breakdown: redemption durge kind of has harm ocd? it's not a perfect 1:1 representation of what ocd is like, but there are enough similarities that i had to stop as i was playing and go, "does durge have harm ocd? why did no one ever mention that durge kind of has harm ocd?"

(this entire description is going to be somewhat of an oversimplification of what ocd is like but) as redemption durge, you experience intense, ego-dystonic and unwanted thoughts (and sometimes images) that urge you to harm others throughout your daily life. furthermore, you literally have a guy (sceleritas fel) who follows you around, deliberately voicing these unwanted thoughts and trying to convince you that they are real and inevitable (a physical manifestation of intrusive thoughts). these thoughts may target the people or things you care about most, such as your friends or your partner. you may find yourself confessing these thoughts to people around you and seeking reassurance that these thoughts are not real, have not really happened, or that you are a good person.

the only place where this doesn't really fit is in the compulsions themselves: (again, this is an oversimplification, but) with ocd, your intrusive thoughts say "xyz thing is happening/is going to happen" and, in response, you perform a compulsion that ocd says will prevent the intrusive thought from coming true (ex. ocd tells you that, if you handle knives while cooking, you will use those knives to hurt someone in your home. the compulsion could be something like avoiding using knives or performing a particular ritual/habitual behaviour before or after you use knives. ocd tells you that in some way this repetitive, compulsive behaviour prevents your fear/intrusive thoughts (that you could hurt someone) from being realized). in the case of redemption durge, the compulsion kind of is the fear? you fear that you will hurt someone as a result of your urges, and so the compulsive behaviour that results is... for you to hurt people? it kind of falls apart here.

but after juno rejects bhaal and has her dark urges taken from her, there's so much space left over for actual ocd. a lot of her intrusive thoughts involve her urges coming back and causing her to hurt people. she avoids cooking (especially meats) because she fears working with meat will cause her urges to rise again (flesh is flesh, after all). she's terrified that she will kill gale without noticing it, particularly during the night (after all, she killed alfira in her sleep, and tried to kill gale in her sleep once), and so she compulsively checks on gale when he's home with her (things like leaving a room, having an intrusive thought about having killed him while she was in the room with him and having forgotten that she did it, and having to go back into the room she's just left to see that he's safe). things like that. and the thing about ocd is that it can get worse when you're idle, and so juno's empty time during the day exacerbates the symptoms of her ocd, making them much more acute.

but juno doesn't tell gale about these struggles (both to find a sense of purpose and a reason for her own existence after the defeat of the absolute and a resurgence of fears around her dark urges) because she doesn't want him to think she's not happy with him in waterdeep. she's decidedly not happy there (she's lonely, scared, aimless), but she wants to be happy there, and she hates the idea that she could ever make gale think she regrets coming to waterdeep with him or agreeing to marry him (which she doesn't, she does want those things, it's just hard right now). and she feels shame, too, i think, for struggling. everyone else seems to have settled so easily either back into their old lives or into new lives, and she seems to be the only one having trouble.

and so i think she kind of carries on with things getting progressively worse until everything becomes so unmanageable that it comes to a head. i don't know specifically the catalyst for it, but eventually juno has to tell gale about all of the things she's been struggling with. it's explosive, there are a lot of tears (and at least one wail about how tara doesn't even like her. juno has not been taking this well), and ultimately their relationship comes out stronger for having weathered this storm together. because now juno has expressed her needs and, while gale can't fix either of these problems for her, he can support her as her partner when he didn't know she needed his support before.

and eventually juno does find a new purpose: she decides to start doing whatever research she can into bhaal and bhaalspawn. she seeks to understand the information about herself and her legacy that she's been missing since the amnesia, and to be prepared in case bhaal or his other spawn rear their ugly heads again (and, though she and gale are not decided on if they want children, she has determined that she would not have biological children before she knows what happens to the children of bhaalspawn who have been disowned and stripped of their urges - she wouldn't want to pass her urges on, or give bhaal the chance to turn a child of hers into his new chosen).

but it makes the 6 month reunion in the epilogue very bittersweet for juno. though she's doing better by then than she was, she still feels delayed compared to everyone else, and she still feels a lot of shame and embarrassment over the ways she struggled to adjust to life after the absolute when everyone else seemed to manage so easily (especially since everyone keeps asking her what she's been doing and how she is). and just because she's doing better doesn't mean that the spectre of those hard times doesn't linger. at this point, she and gale aren't even married - the game gives you the option to reference your wedding day, but i never choose it because, in my mind, after juno has her big breakdown, she and gale decide to delay the wedding. they've not called off the engagement, but just decided to leave wedding planning until she's feeling better and more settled in their new lives together.

time (and a new direction) helps juno settle in waterdeep. eventually she and gale do marry and she gets used to the city and starts to make friends (and makes regular trips to see the other companions, no matter how far and wide they're spread now). she grows closer with gale's mother morena and finds more family in her. she and tara form an uneasy truce that grows into mutual respect and eventually affection (though juno knows her friendship with tara will never touch what tara has with gale). so, while things are rough for a while, they do get better :)

#tw for discussion of ocd #bg3 tag #other fun juno facts: she fucking hates elminster and mystra but takes it out on elminster bc he's not a goddess #juno's in waterdeep when gale's at work like 'hey tara play girlfriend by avril lavigne'#she also drives gale crazy because she is not at all interested in magic (outside of the fact that it's important to him) and openly admits #that she thinks that people should have stopped making spells after speak with animals (the only spell anyone ever needs)

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storiesbyjes2g · 11 months

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3.44 Get your girl

I pissed off rude girl, and that was fun. I saw an old man do a headstand, and that was amazing. To top off an already awesome day, not only did the old man join me for guided meditation but also so many sims wanted to join the class, I had to turn some away! I hated doing that, but it was such a good problem to have. Sims were finally recognizing the benefit of quieting their thoughts and practicing mindfulness, and I loved to see it. But as fate always had it, my good fortune ended. I had a room full of sims who paid me to teach them how to focus and quiet their minds, yet I could not focus. I tried everything, but I just could not get there. Something in my life must not have been in order. Meditation would have been the perfect time to figure it out, but I had a room full of sims waiting for my prompts to guide them. I never liked to half ass things, but I was unable to do my job so I reused the clouds prompt again to get me through class. When it was over, I went to the sauna to relax and figure out why I couldn't focus. At first, I thought maybe it was this business with Yasmine coming back to haunt me, but I had already squashed that. I combed over everything and still could not figure it out, so I stopped trying. Sometimes I stressed myself out trying to solve things when what I really needed to do was relax, so that was exactly what I did. I closed my eyes, leaned back, and emptied my mind. A while later, someone joined me in the sauna and then another, so I figured it was time to leave. As soon as I stood up, it hit me. I had unfinished business and left the spa immediately to make things right with Maira.

She answered the door with the blankest of expressions.

"Hey..." I said uncomfortably.

"What do you want, Luca?"

Ouch.

"Look...I'm sorry for popping up like this. I know it's late, but can we talk?"

She nodded, let me in, but stood at the door as if she were prepared to throw me out if I said the wrong thing.

"I feel like I upset you, and that was not my intention."

She gestured toward the couch, finally, and we sat. I was going to continue with my apology, but she interrupted me.

"When you said I was your friend... That night...the fire...I know you felt something. How could you not?"

So we were going there, huh? I tried to bury those feelings, but maybe I was ready to talk about it with her. I'd been confessing a lot of that deep, hidden stuff to myself lately. Maybe this won't be too hard.

"I did," I said. "But... Things have been really complicated for me...in that way."

"Complicated how?"

I took a deep breath.

"I like you, Maira. I do. But I..."

I felt things slowly going off the rails, and I hadn't even said anything yet, so I took a different approach, hoping things would flow better.

"You're beautiful..."

Her eyes opened wide in surprise.

"Me?"

It was my turn to be surprised.

"You're kidding, right?"

"What? I don't get too many compliments like that. Most guys I dealt with were fans of my ass."

I couldn't help it, but I let out a tiny chuckle. Maybe it was the way she said it.

"I, uhhh...I will admit to also being a fan, heh. But I'm not just talking about your face. You're beautiful inside, too. If someone were to hold a SimRay to my head and say I had to get married right away or I'd die, you would be one of the women at the top of my list."

"Aww! Really?"

"Yeah... I said it was complicated because I feel that way about you...and someone else, to be honest. But I'm still afraid to make a move. My parents have been divorced my whole life, basically. I didn't have many examples of healthy, thriving relationships growing up. I still don't. And even now, as an adult, I keep learning things about my parents that make me even less sure about if I'm cut out for this. I don't want to end up like them, so it's easier to keep everyone at a distance until I figure myself out. But that's gotten harder and harder to do the more I get to know you all. I don't want to mess up."

She sat there, still listening, so I went on.

"When I said you were my friend, I wasn't trying to say that's how I saw you and we had zero chance of anything else. I was simply stating you are my friend, and I would always be here for you."

She nodded slowly.

"I knew your parents were divorced, but I didn't know you were still being affected by it. I guess it all makes sense now."

"I'm sorry if it felt like I was leading you on, or whatever. That wasn't my intention. I've been thinking about things a lot lately and trying to remember my parents' problems had nothing to do with me and I don't have to do what they did. So I've decided to give dating a try. Heh, according to my Dad, you and I may have been doing that this whole time. I don't want to be scared anymore. But I also don't want anything serious right now. I do want to find someone I'd be willing to get serious with, so...yeah. I'm dating."

"That's very good to know," she said. "I kinda feel the same way. I wasn't upset because I thought we were going somewhere because I'm not looking for anything too serious right now, either. I was upset because I thought you friend zoned me, and it just made me think about all the other guys I'd dealt with. I thought you were different...someone I'd like to be with when I am ready. But in that moment, I thought you were just like everyone else, taking what they want and throwing me away when it was convenient for them. That upset me because I just want to meet a good guy for once. So...yeah...I'm sorry I thought you were a llama snot."

I hadn't heard llama snot since we were kids. It made me smile.

"I'm sorry you've met so many douche bags."

She shrugged.

"You win some, you lose some. Speaking of losing... If you like this other girl, I think you should go for it and forget about me."

My stomach rolled.

"What? No. I could never forget about you. You're one of my best friends!"

"I don't mean cut me out of your life. I just mean, if you're waffling between her and me, choose her."

A tiny part of me was relieved she had taken herself out of the proverbial race because, if it came down to Maira and Sophia, I honestly didn't know how I'd choose. But I still didn't want to lose her. True, we were just friends and could remain friends. But the part of me that wanted more than that was sad.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because, Luca! I know you say you're scared, and you think you're not ready, but you are! And you want it! I can see it in your eyes and in the way you behave. Just be with her. You'll be fine. I'm nowhere near ready for what you want, and I'm sorry if I lead you to believe I am. My family... I love them, but they are driving me nuts right now. My parents just had another baby, and my sister is pregnant again. And top it all off, my brother just got married."

"Who married him?" I asked in disgust.

She laughed because she knew I couldn't stand that guy.

"Malia."

My eyes widened that time.

"Malia Gallardo?"

The girl I used to like who liked my sister instead of me?

"Yep! They're ummm...they're interesting together... But anyway, with all these babies and marriages going on, everyone's looking at me like 'well???' and tapping on their fictitious watches. I just don't want any of that. At least not now. Maybe never! I don't know right now. But what I do know is I'm going at this much slower than you are, and I don't want to hold you back. So...go get your girl. And before you ask, yes we're still friends, yes, I want to see you from time to time, and yes, when you're ready, I'd like to meet her."

I didn't know what to say or even what to feel. What did she see in me that told her I was ready for a serious relationship? I wanted to see it too. I should have felt liberated, but I was still a little scared. Of what? I didn't know. Fear of the unknown, probably. I suppose that was healthy. Still, I wasn't prompted to go home and call Sophia.

#ISBI challenge #sims 4 story #sims 4 gameplay #adolting #adolting gen 3 #luca winston murillo #maira watson

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thecameronchronicles · 2 years

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Out of Excuses

TW: Smut. DarkRafe. Tension. Degrading language.

SUMMARY: Rafe is making his move on you tonight.

WORD COUNT: 2700

*Requested*

Out of Excuses

‘You two are so perfect for each other, I don’t know why you don’t just go for it’. You’d heard this line in such repetition that if you had been paid each time you were forced to endure it, you’d have your future kid’s college paid in full. And yet with each time it was left lingering within the air, the longing glance you made with Rafe somehow validated why it would never be the truth.

But the problem wasn’t unrequited passion or desire, even if either of you acted as such. Instead, it was your reservation and his understanding that even though you were closer than friends should be, you couldn’t be anymore different. Where you were goal oriented and organized, he was impulsive and insatiable-not to mention cruel to a specific group of people simply the product of an unkind life dealt in the roulette of life.

But it had been these reasons, among those of stubbornness and fear, that kept you apart from pursuing what could have been passion between you. And it was a list that continued to grow, even more so than when your father’s bad investment cost you the lifestyle you’d grown accustomed to in your more formative years. Because of this, your entire life had changed. School. Friends. Even your job felt the effect of this alteration, but there was a constant.

Rafe.

But he’d kept his distance, both intentional and otherwise, since your change of station. The only time you’d see him would be on those rare occasions where the ‘Kooks’ and ‘Pogues’ held functions together, often ending in some altercation involving him and JJ Maybank. But those glances had been enough for your heart to race with the familiarity of his focus as you’d always been able to converse through your gazes alone. Raised brows signaling humor and cocked smirks informing him of a joke you’d shared. But there was something different in his eyes tonight.

“Hey princess…” JJ addressed you, a recent acquaintance turned friend since your change of social status. Not as if he could ever replace the way you felt when you were with Rafe. But the platonic reliability of a joke aided in the sting of his distance.

Eventually, after a few hours of being entertained by the pogues signature party style, you said your farewells and began to walk home. With your change of address came a new route home, which also gave you a lot of time to think. About what you missed, what you wanted-who you wanted…

The sound of steps at your back made you roll your eyes as you turned, “JJ, I told you, I’m fine to walk-” You stilled, Rafe Cameron having stalked the shadows behind you.

“Hi…” You offered an uncertain nod, not exactly sure what you two were, but knew, irregardless, that it was complex.

“How are you?”

“I’m fine…” You dragged out, somewhat annoyed to entertain him as he moved the space in front of you until he was close enough for you to smell the alcohol from his breath and the echo of weed in his presence.

“I have a question for you…” You let out a sigh of exhaustion as he had a habit of making everything dramatic.

“Are you fucking him?”

“What?!”

“You let him fuck you?”

“Rafe!” He offered a shrug, truly unapologetic to his brazen curiosity.

“I know he wants to…” You shook your head in disbelief followed by humor that brought your lips into a smirk.

“Everybody wants to-” You interrupted him with a scoff.

“Tell that to half of the party who couldn’t stop staring at me despite the fact it’s been YEARS since I’ve even really seen them…You included, actually. You only look at me from across a party but never actually talk to me…and then you have the audacity to ask me if I’m sleeping with JJ?” To the clench of his jaw, you realized how this affected him, something you couldn’t help but relish in it against his usual content indifference.

“But even if I was, I don’t have to tell you anything-” You rolled your eyes, pulling yourself into a turn before he caught hold of your arm.

“I’m trying to look out for you…Like I always have-” You tried to pull away, a breath of disbelief showcasing your rejection of his words.

“How exactly did you do that, Rafe? Because you’re just like them…Snorting your first world problems away through your dad’s money and expecting the world to fall at your feet because you don’t ever have to worry about being ‘less than’ anyone! But if I want JJ or Pope or anyone else…That’s MY right to sleep with whoever-”

“Shut your mouth-” You narrowed your eyes as his grip tightened onto you.

“Rafe, you’re hurting me…”

“And what about me? Huh? Seeing you with them? With HIM? Of all people, a fucking pogue!”

“I’m a pogue now! Have been for a while, actually…Or did you forget that while you were getting too high to notice?! If I fuck anyone, I don’t owe you an explanation. In fact…maybe I’ll see what he’s up to, since you mentioned it…” Your attempts to escape were made in vain as he only pulled you tighter into his chest.

“The only one ‘fucking’ you…is me-” Before you could respond beyond your initial shock, his lips were suddenly against your own. The lips you’d only felt once before in a game of spin the bottle had now become well trained in contrast to your early adolescence. They no longer trembled in trepidation. Instead, they were feasting on your own, pulling them apart in the tease of his tongue, and holding you to him as if releasing you meant certain death.

“Fuck…” He breathed in finality, taking his forehead against yours. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long-”

“Rafe…” The sudden reality of what this would mean had pulled you to object. If not for the infantile politics of a ‘pogue’ being with a ‘kook’, then for the way he was destined to break your heart and you’d be desperate enough to let him just to be with him. It was this same desperation that tore down your defenses long enough for him to walk you off of the road’s shoulder and into the weak seclusion of nature outlining this specific stretch of thoroughfare.

Once again, his lips were passionate against your own, every angst-filled moment he hadn’t acted on this very thing having shown through in the way he’d breathe you in beneath him. His fingers were just as distressed, eating away into the curves he’d been taunted with since you’d grown into them. But quickly, these kisses and fondlings weren’t enough. He needed more. He needed to see more of you. For this, his lips descended down your jaw and to your throat as his hand wrapped the curve of your neck, stabilizing you, as his second hand prepared your breast for unveiling.

Your mouth parted to object before the sudden cold air of exposure exhilarated you into silence, quelled in continuation by the warmth of his mouth. Your eyes fell to him, observing the way he’d expertly seduced those hard nubs, almost sweetly, if not for the pull he made when teasing you with his teeth.

But once his eyes moved up to you, the preying frigidity he’d worn the entire night having darkened with lust, you were reminded of how this would end; Emotional carnage. Heartache. Devastation. All things that you couldn’t risk. And for that, you took your hands to his chest to try and push him away, but found him to capture your wrists and hold them over your head.

“No…”

“Rafe…please-” His hand suddenly wrapped around your neck.

“You’re done making excuses why we can’t do this…why I can’t have you.” Your eyes widened in fear to the unwavering devotion he had to satiate his own carnal appetite.

“I’m gonna make you come so fucking hard that you’ll never want anybody else to touch you-And even if you did, you’re gonna be so marked up by me nobody will want YOU-”

“RAFE-” You gasped into his hand as his second hand worked down to your shorts, pulling them open just enough to access your clit.

“Go on…lie to me and tell me you don’t want this-” The hand around your neck ascended to your jaw, a harsh grip stilling you in place.

“But I know the truth-” His middle finger now penetrated you, quickly followed by a second, as they curved in the successful search for your g-spot. Your hand moved to his wrist, wrapping in a tight hold as he continued to pump to and from you.

“Please Rafe…not like this…” He quickened his fingers, your mouth pulling open in slack.

“Like THIS then?”

“Stop…pl-stop…” You struggled to remain convicted in your words, your body betraying any attempt made.

“You are begging me to stop, yet riding my hand like a goddamn rodeo…” He breathed a breath of relief in knowing he wouldn’t have to force you to take him, as he would have you no matter the rejection, a dark thought you’d found exciting as you knew you’d never be the one to cross that line of friends to ‘more than’. And he hadn’t only crossed that line, he’d blurred it-obliterated it even, until all that remained was your need for him.

“Please…” You continued to whimper, his palm now pulling into your clitoral hood as your face contorted in pleasure.

“I’ve held back every time I see you, kept myself from bending you over the nearest surface and fucking you in front of everyone so they know you’re mine. But now that we’re alone-”

“We can’t-” He shook his head in a single flick before chuckling, his hand withdrawing from between your legs and collecting your neck, increasing the pressure as your eyes came to a reluctant close.

“Say it one more fucking time and see what happens…” Your hips were suddenly taken into a spin, your body pressed up against the trunk of this specific tree.

“But someone could see us-”

“Good.” He growled into your ear, taking all fabric away from your hips before lowering the same of his own. His secondary digits wrapped around your neck once more for a mix of dominance and stability while his more used hand fondled your breast from beneath your shirt, sending you to writhe as jolts of electricity shot through every nerve and gathered between your legs.

“I know you’re already as wet as a whore for me so I don’t even need you to…but I want to feel those lips wrapped around me…so suck…” He took his fingers at a tease on your bottom lip.

“Why are you shaking, sweetheart? I’m not even inside of you yet…” Before you could answer, he interjected once more.

“Are you scared?” You slowly nodded as he laughed behind you, his chest rising and falling at your back.

“Then listen to me and I won’t have to hurt you…”He leaned closer into you, “Because I could fucking kill you for even entertaining the idea of JJ-or anyone else touching you-fucking you-fucking what’s MINE.” You could only moan to his words as he breathed in approval of your submission.

“Now. Suck.” You obliged, treating his fingers as if it had been his cock, moaning against him until they were suddenly withdrawn.

“Take it, bitch…” With a groan, you were stuffed with his cock, those saturated fingers on a mission of torture and titilation against your clit.

“Rafe?”

“I’m not stopping…you ask again and I’ll leave your ass so raw you won’t be able to sit. Now shut the fuck up and let me enjoy this…” He groaned, trailing histouch from your breast to your clit, back across your stomach in a rough claw motion, and finalizing to your hair before he bent you further against the tree. His rough motions should have been anything but enjoyable, yet the way he held you, the desperation behind each penetration and relinquishment, brought you into feral pleas beneath him.

“Keep begging baby, fuck…” You spoke his name in continued gasps and groans, his tempo increasing once doing so, before a cruel slap to your ass made you leap forward, his fingers pulling you back into him with aggression. This specific pounding having created an echo all its own, erotic in the sound of skin to skin only interrupted by the guttural groans crafted beneath clenched teeth and parted lips.

“I always knew you were a fucking slut, but shit, you’re so tight like you’re a goddamn virgin!” He grunted into you.

“But you can do better…come on! COME ON!” He endorsed, your fingers coming behind you to his hips, nails drawing evidence of the sensations he caused having now lined his bare skin.

“Rafe!”

“Do you need me to slow down?” He asked as you slowly nodded, feeling him scoff before twisting lines of circular conception to your clit, pounding into even harder.

“That’s right, take all of me-FUCKING SHIT!” He cursed, allowing his neck to succumb to gravity as you clenched around him. “You don’t fucking come until I tell you-”

“Rafe-”

“I swear to God if you don’t listen, you’ll be so fucking sorry-” His thrusts were sloppy, approaching his release, as you trembled to fight your own.

“Do you have ANY idea how long I’ve wanted this?!” He growled.

“So you’re gonna come when I say-IF I say…IF I let you-”

“Rafe…Please…I can’t take it-”

“Oh YOU can’t? But you will-you’re going to fucking take it! Take it like the whore you were willing to be for HIM…We both know he can’t fuck you like this…right? Come on, say it-Fucking say it!” His hand around your throat made this difficult, but not impossible, as you nodded and answered in a weak agreement.

“AGAIN!”

“Only you!” You cried out as he suddenly unsheathed from you, turning you to face him, and forcing you onto your knees, fisting his cock before motioning for you to take over with a single nod.

“Taste how sweet you are on me…go on- '' You obliged, hungry for any release, even if it was his own. You took him in expert paces, tongue and hollowed cheeks, as he spoke your name in pained choruses.

“More- '' He growled as you pushed him further against your gag reflex, a smile spread across his face as you gasped and gagged against him, but always returned to continue your task.

“Oh fuck-I’m gonna come…you’re making me come-” You nodded, wrapping a hand to his base and squeezing what couldn’t reach beyond your tongue, before feeling him spill down your throat, his exhausted breath interrupted by these final thrusts before he took you against his lips.

“You drive me crazy-”

“Rafe…” You whined as he smirked.

“Want me to help you?” You nodded before feeling him lay you onto the ground, holding you firm with a hand wrapped around your neck.

“You have ten seconds or you don’t get to-” You parted your lips to object before feeling him between your legs with his tongue, edging you a handful of times before withdrawing.

“You made me lose count, so fucking sweet…YOU count. Now!”

“Ten…” You breathed as he returned to you.

“Faster, Rafe-please!” A cruel suck to your clit made you arch beneath him.

“COUNT!”

“NINE!” you cried out.

“E-eight!”You struggled, the feeling of his fingers inside of you curving back to your g-spot, leaving you breathless.

“Sss-se-seven!”

“Louder!”

“SIX! FIVE!” You obliged quickly as he grinned at you.

“Three-” He smirked.

“You missed one…Did my cock make you stupid, baby? Or are you THAT desperate to come?”

“I’m so close, Rafe!I can feel it! Please!” His grimace widened.

“Then come if you’re so desperate. Three seconds left-come on- Keeping counting-”

“Three!”

He moaned into you, those vibrations being the final pull you needed before you convulsed beneath him.

“Two-” You winced.

“One.” He finalized your interaction, wearing your slick with pride before taking note of you beneath the moonlight.

“Even more beautiful, all marked up by me…We’re gonna keep it that way…” He pulled you to your feet.

“Where are we going?”

“Back to the party so everyone knows how good you just got it-”

“Rafe-” He silenced you by a rough grip to your jaw and a passionate kiss turning French before parting.

“Not up for discussion. Let them see that after all this time, you’re finally mine.”

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