#JUST.... how perfectly it describes his anger in a way

[ahogedetective]

which rage language are you?

men, raise the drawbridge

when you're angry, all your defenses go up. the unfortunate person or thing that managed to piss you off is suddenly talking to a wall. On the inside, you're screaming and crying and cussing them out, but somehow you can't express it. you're blank. emotionless. to anyone's knowledge, you could be zoning out of a lecture. because of this, it's hard to express how you're feeling when the person asks for your thoughts. you've choked your feelings down, and they won't come back up.

Tagged by: @ultlie and @belovedblossoms THANK YOU LOVELIES!!! 💖💖💖

Tagging: @somemindsatwork @shackld @oopsiliedagain @eternalbxtterfly @rosanimemuses @hxpelessnurse @not-bcring @from-across-the-stars and everyone else who would like to do this!

[azrielsdove]

Only You: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Knife-play, Blood, 18+

***

You stumbled down the halls, the bottle of alcohol in your hand sloshing around. You hummed to yourself as you took another deep drink. “Stupid,” you cursed, chiding yourself. You pushed further down the hallway, aiming for the stairs to the training ring. You slowly made your way up them, sticking the bottle into the sand after taking a final swig. “Idiot,” you muttered, tripping over your feet on the way to the weapons. You picked up two daggers, relishing in the feel of the smooth hilts against your hands. These will do.

You moved over to the throwing board, imagining your own face on it. “He will never want you,” you sneered, a taunt to yourself. You threw the first knife, landing it in the perfect middle despite your drunken state. “Ridiculous,” you said as the next blade embedded itself into the wood. You walked up to it, pulling the daggers out with a little more force than required. You were seething with embarrassment and anger at yourself, the sobering feelings ruining the perfectly drunken state you had created.

You continued throwing and retrieving the daggers for a while, letting the cool night air clear your head. Your anger leaked out with every “thunk” in the wood, the blades allowing you to channel your emotions. You plucked them out of the board once more, walking back to your spot as your mind replayed the events of the night.

You had made a fool of yourself at dinner. You knew it had pissed him off, the point of your game. You smiled at the thought, throwing a dagger again. You were fed up with his little act about Elain. While nothing had ever happened between the two of you, he was yours. Or at least, he used to be.

You had hit your tipping point tonight, watching him so delicately help her. Delicate, as if. That was not a word you typically used to describe him. The second dagger flew from your hand, landing perfectly with its sister. You paced over to them again, the repetitive act soothing your hurt. You spun the blade in your hand, feeling the cool metal against your skin. It took all of your self control to not squeeze your fingers around it.

Truth be told, it was his own fault you acted like you did. If he had just pulled his head out of his ass, (or Elain’s ass, whichever you prefer), he would have seen the frustration he was causing you. You wouldn’t have had to make a scene just to get his attention. A smile ghosted on your lips as recalled the red in his face at your words. You raised your hand to throw the dagger again, heart stopping when a cold fist wrapped around your wrist.

“Playing with yourself, are we?”

You knew he intended the double meaning in his words, that he wanted your cheeks to flush. You turned your head towards him, a sickly sweet smile on your face.

“Azriel. What a pleasure.”

He scoffed, the hold he had on you tightening. “What kind of game are you playing, hmm?” He leaned down, his breath ghosting over your ear. “If you wanted me to fuck you that bad, you could’ve just asked.”

Your blood ran cold at his words, at his tone. You had never heard that deep rasp of his voice before. You hated the fire it ignited in you. “You think rather highly of yourself.”

His nose traced along your neck, inhaling deeply. “Do I? Your scent tells me otherwise.”

You ignored the heat pooling in your core, his hard body pressed against your back. “I know how to appreciate an attractive male. It’s unfortunate that body is attached to you.” You shot back, twisting to face him. He held strong to your wrist, a darkness in his eyes you’d never seen.

“What was it you said at dinner? To ‘just screw her already and get over it?’.” He stepped closer to you, chest pressed against yours. “Did you mean her, or were you talking about yourself?”

Your breath hitched at his words, at the way he was looking at you. His gaze was roaming over your body, like you were a dessert he was barely holding himself back from. “Don’t be stupid. Why would I want you?” You knew your words were a lie, and by the look on his face he knew it too.

His other hand slid down to grab your other wrist, slipping both of the daggers out of your grasp. He pressed the flat of one of them under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “I’m tired of this attitude.” He snarled, the cool metal sending a chill through you.

In a flash of silver he had sliced the other dagger down the front of your dinner dress, the fabric falling away from your body. He traced the blade down your chest, your stomach, catching on the waistband of your underwear. Your body was burning under the cold daggers, mind clouded by desire.

“Not so snarky now, are we?” He teased, dragging the blade under your chin down to cut the center of your bra. His shadows swirled up, sliding the destroyed garment off of your shoulders. He hummed in appreciation, using the dagger to circle just outside of your nipples. Your breathing was heavy, an incessant need tugging in your mind.

The dagger on your underwear moved to the sides of the lace, a quick slice happening on both of your hips. You gasped as you felt the blade dig ever so slightly on your left side, drawing blood. The lace fell to the ground, leaving you fully exposed to the Shadowsinger. He ran a thumb over your hip, slowly bringing it up to his mouth. You could’ve finished then, watching him suck your blood off his finger, eyes locked onto yours. “Az,” you murmured, transfixed on his actions.

“I like you like this. Letting me do whatever I want to you.” He brought one of the blades up to your lips, nicking the skin on your bottom one. You felt the blood trickle down your chin, eyes wide with desire. He leaned closer to you, dropping one dagger on the ground to cup your chin with his hand. “So obedient.” He hummed, tongue darting out to lick over your bleeding lip. You couldn’t help the light moan at the feeling of him licking up the blood that had fallen, an act that shouldn’t be as sexy as it was.

Your eyes fluttered closed as he sucked on your bottom lip, tongue running over the wound he had made. You felt his shadows wrap around your thighs, your arms, your stomach. You felt them nudge your legs apart, pressing you closer to him. You needed him to touch you, to kiss you. You tried to move your mouth down just enough so he could, a sharp bite on your lip stopping your actions. “Don’t be greedy now. Not when i’ve waited so long to have you like this.”

His words were accompanied with a harsh slap in between your legs from the flat of the blade. He held the cold metal against your heat, enjoying the desperate moan that fell from you. He trailed the dagger down, circling the soft skin on your inner thigh. You hissed when he dug the tip into you, the pain and pleasure overwhelming. He dropped the dagger with the other when he was done, pushing your head down to force you to look.

You took in the crude “A” on your thigh, inches away from your center. He had marked you. His fingers were tracing the initial now, spreading the blood around like it was paint. He trailed those fingers up your body, bringing your face back up to his. “Beautiful.” He sighed, looking at you like he could see what no one else could.

“Azriel,” you said, “please.” He smiled, one arm wrapping around your waist and holding you close.

“Please what?”

“Touch me.”

You had hardly finished speaking the words when one of his shadows swirled up, vibrating and circling against your clit. You gave a shout, knees buckling. You dug your nails into the shirt he wore, holding yourself up as his shadow worked you. He watched you as you gave into the pleasure it was giving you, observing the way your eyes rolled back in your head at the sensation. “Az,” you breathed, wanting him to touch you.

“Not yet, pet. Let my shadow undo you for me.” He stroked his hand down the side of your face gently, almost lovingly. The shadow working you increased the vibrating and circling, your back arching into him. Your legs were shaking and you were already embarrassingly close to falling over the edge. Azriel held your head up so he could watch the pleasure take over your features, reveling in the sight he finally got to take in.

You gave a loud, gasping moan as his shadow pushed you over the edge, working you harshly through your orgasm. Your nails dug into his shirt so hard it tore, not that you noticed. The shadow didn’t let up as it pushed you through, a silent scream on your lips. “Az, Az, Az” You gasped out, his name a beg.

“It wants you to go again. Can you do that for me?” He asked, lips close to your ear. You shook against him, the pleasure too much. “Let it take care of you.” He whispered, pressing a kiss just under your ear. Your mind was blank with pleasure as the shadow worked you towards another orgasm, not giving you a break after the first one.

“Az, I cant, I cant-“ You breathed out, words cut off by a scream as your second orgasm washed over you. He let out an approving hum, calling his shadows away from you. You collapsed against him, gasping for air. He pulled you into his arms, carrying you to the edge of the training ring. He propped you up on one of the low stone walls lining the edge, one arm tight around you. You looked behind you just a hair, dizzy from how far away the bottom of the mountain was.

“I’m going to fuck you here, and you’re going to scream for me. I want my name to echo around the mountains around us. Do you understand?” His words brought your attention back up to him, breath catching at the hardness he ground against you. “Answer me,” he growled out, kissing and sucking down your neck.

“Y-yes. I understand,” you moaned out, lost in the bliss from his lips.

“Good,” he said, finally pressing his mouth to yours. The kiss was harsh, punishing. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, licking and sucking every inch of it. His hand fell down to circle your abused clit, a whimper coming out of you. “Be a good girl for me, give us another one, yea?” He asked, kissing you between each word. You nodded against his touch, words failing you. He dragged one finger down to your opening, thumb moving to continue the assault on your clit. He pushed ever so gently into you, exploring the area.

“Az,” you moaned out, “please don’t tease.” He laughed but obliged, pushing his finger deep inside of you. Your head rolled back at the feeling, how good just one of his fingers felt inside you. Azriel groaned at how wet you were for him, how welcoming you felt. He slid another finger in, curling them perfectly inside. You moaned his name, encouraging his actions. He kissed you again, swallowing the moans coming from you. His fingers sped up, hitting you in a way that made you know you were seconds from another orgasm.

His thumb gave another circle, his fingers thrusting and curling inside you, his lips working yours to the point of bruising. You cried out against him, body tensing as your third orgasm washed over you. This one was even more intense than the first two, breathing stopping as the pleasure took control. He continued his movements through it, only stopping once your body relaxed back into his. “Such a perfect girl for me, aren’t you?” He said appreciatively, undoing the lacing on his pants.

Your jaw dropped as he pulled himself out, the length and girth like nothing you’ve seen before. He pumped himself a few times, thumb spreading the bead of precum on his tip. Your mouth watered, imagining how he would taste. He caught your thoughts, a low chuckle rumbling through his chest. “Next time,” he promised, lining himself up with you. “I need to be inside you now.”

You brought your eyes back up to him, tangling your arms around his neck. The arm around your waist tightened, pressing your body against his. He slid himself through your slick one, two, three times before slowly pushing in. The first inch of him had your eyes rolling back in your head, the pleasure already more than you had ever experienced. He pushed in inch by inch, stretching you in ways you didn’t know were possible. You arched against him, breath catching when he bottomed out. The two of you sat still for a moment, letting you adjust to his size.

“Azriel,” you breathed, “Move.”

He pulled nearly all the way out before thrusting fully back into you, your head falling back with a scream. He kissed and sucked the exposed skin of your throat, hand gripping onto your hair. He groaned against your skin, the sound adding another layer of pleasure to you. You weren’t going to last long after three orgasms, body screaming for him to give you another.

You forced the feeling down, wanting to finish with him. You brought your head down to his, pulling him close for a kiss. You relished in the way he moaned your name against your lips, lost in the pleasure of you. “That’s it,” you hummed, reaching a hand out to stroke his wing lightly. He growled at the feeling, thrusts coming harder and sloppier.

“I won’t last long if you keep that up,” he warned, soft moans interrupting his words as you ran your fingers over the most sensitive parts of his wings.

“Good,” you breathed out, arching your hips up to meet his. “I want you to cum in me.”

He let out a delicious groan at your words, his lips capturing yours again. The hand on your waist was digging into your skin so hard you hoped there’d be bruises tomorrow, a reminder of his desire. You felt that familiar tightening in your abdomen again, preparing for your fourth orgasm to take you. You pushed into each thrust he grave, fingers working his wings until he shook against you.

He roared into your mouth, thrusting as deep as possible inside you when he came. You allowed your own release as he pulsed inside of you, screaming his name just how he wanted. He rode you through the end of your orgasm, never wanting those screams to stop.

He slowed as the pleasure ebbed away, standing still against you. He kissed your swollen lips sweetly, a hand coming up to brush the tears of pleasure away. “It’s always been you,” he whispered, a new vulnerability in his eyes. “I never wanted anyone else. I’ve only ever dreamed of this with you.”

You were overwhelmed with emotion at his words, unable to believe the male you had wanted for so long felt the same way. “I just assumed…” you trailed off, leaving the implication of your words in the air. He nodded, pulling out of you slowly. You whined at the loss of him as he tucked himself back in his pants, pulling his torn shirt off to wrap around your bare body. He cradled you into his arms, carrying you back inside.

“I know. I did too good a job at hiding it.” He said, pushing the door open to his room. He laid you on his bed, moving to draw a warm bath for your sore body. He came back, pulling you into his arms again. “I thought you didn’t feel the same, until you yelled at me tonight. I saw the look in your eye, the same jealousy I had felt every time you laughed too hard with Cass or blushed at Rhys’ words.” He placed you into the warm water, an appreciative moan coming from you as it soothed your body. He pulled his clothes off, sliding into the warmth behind you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, the other wetting your hair so he could wash it. “I realized you felt the same, and that I was a fool for letting this go on so long.” He massaged a sweet smelling shampoo into your hair, your eyes falling closed at the sensation.

“I saw you up there, throwing those daggers in that tight little dress. Any restraint I had snapped.” He explained, soothing fingers running through your hair. “I wasn’t too harsh, was I?” He asked, the hand on your waist falling to brush the “A” he carved onto your thigh.

“No,” you shook your head, “never too harsh.” You had enjoyed every second of his control over you, mind already beginning to dream of the next time. Azriel sensed the thought on you, laughing lowly as he rinsed your hair.

“My insatiable girl.” He mused, massaging the conditioner a little too sensually into your hair. You rolled your eyes at him, but couldn’t help the smile that clung to your lips. “You’re mine now, yea?” He asked, his breath tickling the back of your neck. You nodded, leaning further into his touch. He leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear.

“If you ever allude to me wanting someone else, i’ll fuck you right in front of them.”

***

pleaseee let me know your thoughts on this one!!!! <3

[ohtobeleah]

California Fornication //

Three — ‘Start Pretending’

Summary: Bob Floyd finds you and Hangman in a compromising position. There’s a lot more than meets the eye as to why Rooster chose his wife over you. He just hasn’t told you.

Warnings: Mentions of cheating. Love Triangle x2. Bradley Bradshaw x F!reader. Jake Seresin xF!reader. Question ing Morality. Angst. Abusive of power in a relationship. Domestic abuse. SMUT!

Word Count: 2.9k

Author Note: First upload after my wedding. Had this idea swimming around in my brain all week.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Siren!” 

It was all too much for your brain to comprehend. The man you’d been dating, the man you had begun to see a future with, the man who made you forget about all the boys who came before, was married. Bradley Bradshaw was a married man. 

“Y/n—“ Bradley called after you as you made your way back to your car. Of all the days you could have parked closer, today was the day you decided to park all the way in the back row of the lot. “Would you just stop for five seconds so I can explain!” 

You couldn’t begin to explain the way you felt. Betrayed, heartbroken, angry, used. Nothing really did the trick when trying to find the right adjective that perfectly described the sick bottomless pit your stomach had become as you scurried back to your car with Rooster hot on your tail. “Y/n! Please just let me explain!” Bradley begged as he caught up to you. His boots were heavy on the ground as he gripped at your wrist—turning you back to face him as he pleaded with you. “Please, just listen.” 

“You know when would have been a perfect time to explain your situation, Rooster?” You hissed as you ripped your wrist from his grasp. “At the bar! The night we met!” It was damn near impossible to believe that the fact Bradley was married had never been discussed or even be divulged to you. By anyone. “Right now? I don’t wanna know, because I’m about three seconds away from getting in my car and running you down!” It’s the anger in your voice that frightens Rooster the most before he’s standing there, watching you walk away. 

“We’re getting a divorce!” He shouts after you, jogging to catch up to you as you keep putting one foot in front of the other. “I don’t know what she’s doing here baby, you have to believe me.” It sounds as sincere as he can make it sound. “I never wanted you to find out like this, please—“ You pause in your stride, trying your best to keep the tears that had formed in your lower lash line from streaming down your cheeks. It’s to no avail though—they fall freely before the man who’d stolen your heart. “I swear to you, she’s nothing to me anymore.” Bradley’s voice softens as he steps a little closer all the while you step back. Keeping your distance. “I was going to tell you about it all.” He admitted through tears of his own. “About her. But it still hurts to think about it and when I’m with you Siren?” Bradley paused to soak in the way your eyes mimicked his own heartbreak. “It doesn't hurt.” 

“I need to get home—“ You needed time to process the earth shattering news. “Please just let me go home, Rooster, before I have an aneurysm.” 

“It doesn't hurt when I’m with you!” Bradley needed you to hear him out, so he kept talking as you walked away. He watched you dump your duffel into the backseat of your car as he spoke. “I mean it Siren, I don’t love her, I’m with you now and if I’m being perfectly honest here I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

Bradley blocked you from opening your driver's side door. He said not a single word as he pulled you into him for a desperate kiss. Full of passion and love. Your lips melted with his as you tried to will yourself to be strong. But the tears kept falling. 

“I need you to hear me out about this alright?” He whispered as he let your forehead rest against yours. “I promise I had every intention of telling you the truth. I told everyone not to so that I could tell you myself—I just didn’t know how and before I knew it we were official and the longer I waited the more scared I got about losing you.” 

“You really mean it when you say you were getting a divorce?” You asked through wet lashes. Not sure of what to believe. 

“I do.” Bradley confirmed before he was once again pulling you in for a kiss so passion filled it took the breath right out of your lungs. “I don’t settle for women who sleep with my best friend.” 

“She cheated on you?” Your heart broke for the man who was currently blocking your driver's door as his arms draped over your shoulders. 

“Walked in on them in the middle of it too.” You could see the memory playing out across Roosters eyes before he shook the memory from his mind. “I can’t go back to her, not when I’ve got you. So please, stay, hear me out Siren.” You let Bradley’s plea linger in the atmosphere around you before you reached up to kiss him once more for good measure. 

“If you really want me to listen and you really want to lay all this out on the table—I’ll be at the Hard Deck tonight for two for one night at seven o’clock .” You explained. “I’ll book a table on the dining side, and I’ll listen.” 

“I’ll be there.” Bradley smiled against your neck as he drew you in for a hug. “I’ll tell Katie to leave, I’ll tell her it’s over, completely, and I’ll be there.” Bradley Bradshaw had said that his marriage was over with enough conviction in his voice that he actually had you believing it. But as it turned out? You ended up sitting alone in a booth at the Hard Deck for two hours. And when Bradley did eventually show? He came hand in hand with his wife. 

“She looks so heartbroken.” Phoenix whispered to Bob as they watched you stand from the now empty booth they’d seen you sitting alone at for the past two hours. They’d tried their best to sit with you, but you insisted you were fine. 

You’d seen Bradley walk in, and within a millisecond your heart shattered into a million pieces. It was all the explanation you needed, seeing Rooster with his wife. Things were over between you. He’d chosen her. Why? Why her? 

“We should—“

“We should really stay out of whatever mess this is Nix.” Bob sighed as he watched you push past the crowd and exit from the same door Rooster and his estranged wife had just come through. “Something tells me this is gonna get messy and I can’t afford to be picking and choosing sides when I entrust my life to you guys for work.” 

“He’s an idiot—“ Phoenix shook her head as she took a sip of her beer, eyeing off the woman who’d destroyed her own marriage and a friendship that she once thought was unbreakable. “For going back to her.” 

“Love makes you do crazy things—“ Bob replied as he caught Rooster looking around the Hard Deck while Katie spoke with Fanboy. He was looking for you. “Crazy, stupid things.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Oh my god—!” Jake Seresin couldn’t have been buried any deeper inside you if he tried. “Fucking hell you’re so tight.” He moaned into the juncture of your neck as he bucked his hips into you. The two of you had switched positions—you were now the one sitting on the bathroom countertop with your legs wrapped around Jake's waist. “Why’d Bradshaw let you go huh? Tightest little pussy I’ve ever been up in.” It felt so wrong but oh so right at the same time—like you were made for him and only him. 

“Did you say that to Rooster's wife too?” You teased as Jake sucked perfect pressure against your pulse point. The two of you could be compromised by anyone at any moment. The unisex bathroom the pair of you were in was one of two. 

“Oh you’ve got a mean streak don’t you?” Jake smirked as his hand moved from your hip to your throat. Applying a little pressure. “And no, his dirty little mistress is a better fuck.” It sent shivers down your exposed spine. “Wanna get outta here? Come back to mine?” 

“Not until you finish what you started here first.” You could feel it coming, swirling around your core, the build up of pressure so intense it was damn near electric. “I’m so close—“ 

“Oh don’t you worry a pretty little hair on that head of yours, Siren.” Jake snarled as he picked up and pace and pulled your hair back just enough to expose your neck for him to mark up. “I’m gonna get you exactly where you wanna go.” He was so cocky, so sure of himself it was almost infuriating. “Touch yourself for me.” But yet here you were, doing exactly as you were told as Jake fucked deep into you with everything he had. Throbbing inside your velvet walls. “That’s it Siren, look at you.” He teased as you moaned and whimpered for more. “Tell me what you want—“

“I wanna cum!” You cried as Jake chuckled with a devilish smirk that made your core ignite with lust and need. “Please—“ 

“I ain’t stopping you darlin.” Jake kissed your lips harshly to stop the drool that was nearly dripping out of you. “You wanna cum all over my dick then go ahead and do it, I’m sure Rooster won’t mind.” Oh but he would mind, that you both knew. Which is what made this all the more exhilarating. “Or maybe he’ll try to kill me.”

“Oh fuck!!” You were so close, your high was right there. “Jake! Fuck yes I’m gonna cum—“ He was right behind you, fucking into your until he was nearly seeing stars. “Don’t stop!” 

“Ohhh god I’m right with you—“ Through a mix of moans and grunts and a need to get each other off, neither you nor Jake heard the knob of the bathroom door creek open to reveal an unsuspecting Robert Floyd. He stood there dumbfounded and shocked to no end, watching as your eyes rolled into the back of your head as it hit the mirror behind you. Your chest was perky and exposed. Jake's face was buried in your chest and he hooked his arms around the small of your waist and spilled his load inside you. Stilling with a grunt of pure ecstasy as he came with you. “Fuck.” 

“Are you kidding me?” Bob thought he was speechless, but as it turned out he had a thing or two to say. Jake turned his head in the direction of where Bob's voice had come from as he entered the bathroom and locked the door behind himself. “Are you certifiably insane!?” 

“What can I say Floyd.” Jake smirked as he pulled out of you and stuffed himself back into his jeans. You hopped down on the counter, leaking with Jake's load, searching for your clothes behind him. Completely mortified that Bob had seen you so exposed. “Bradshaw has an exquisite taste in women.”

“I really did feel bad for you, you know.” Bob did his best to ignore Jake's comment as he turned his attention to where you were getting dressed. “We all did, because we should have told you.” He tried to hold his tongue as he bit the inside of his cheeks. But it was coming out regardless. Bob needed to say it. “But you know what Jake did and yet here you are, so don’t come crawling to anybody for sympathy when Rooster finds out about this.” 

“Last time I checked Bob—“ Jake puffed his chest a little as he took a step closer to where Bob stood. “Roosters happily married, so Siren here is free to fuck whoever she damn pleases.” Jake reminded the usually meek WSO. “But if you wanna be the one to tell Bradley about this then by all means, have at it.” Jake paused as the two men came face to face, toe to toe. “But make sure you’re ready to duck the second you taddle, he puts his weight behind those punches, and I don’t think those weak ass glasses would withstand a shot like that.” 

“Jake—“ You broke the tension with a gentle hand to the small of Jake's waist. “Let’s just get out of here yeah?” You reminded him softly as Bob held his stare. Disappointed beyond belief that you would go anywhere near Jake Seresin. “Let’s just go.” 

“Don’t let Penny hear you disrespect a lady like that.” Jake smirked to himself as he fixed his shirt. “She might just make you pay for a round.” Jake reached for your hand as he opened the Bathroom door. “Good to see you again Bob.” It wasn’t long after Jake had the final word that he was pulling you out of the bathroom, past the rest of the Daggers who didn’t know what to think seeing the two of you rush out of the Hard Deck together and out into the carpark. 

“You didn’t have to stand up for me like that, you know.” You broke to silence as Jake opened up the passenger side door of his Ford F150, offering you a hand up that you so graciously accepted. “I can look after myself.” 

“It’s nothing—“ Jake insisted as he leaned in to kiss you, soaking up the fact all eyes were on the pair of you through the window. From Phoenix to Coyote who all knew this was going to end as badly as it did the last time. “Us dirty mistresses gotta stick together.” 

You hardly knew this man yet he was so endearing. The thought of getting to know Jake made you crave his attention all that much more. But you knew what this was—a fling, a rebound, a wrong turn if you will. Because Jake loved Katie and you were still pretty positive that you loved Bradley. 

“To the dirty mistress' clubhouse.” You smiled as Jake beamed at you. “Hope you have a nice bedroom.” 

 ***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“No no no no I don’t think you understand what I’m saying to you Kate.” Bradley hissed as he paced back and forth in his living room. His handles fell to his hips in frustration and he burnt track marks into his carpet. “It’s over, we’re done, I don’t love you enough to want to put the work in!” It was all falling on deaf ears, Bradley’s pleas, his feelings. “I can’t be with someone who broke my heart the way you did.” All Bradley had ever wanted was what his parents had. 

“You want to file for divorce Rooster, that’s fine.” Katie Beadshaw had another name before she met Rooster. Her maiden name was Katherine Ferguson. To those in uniform ‘Ferguson’ carried a title like no other and right now, it was Katie’s only okay to keep her husband in a marriage she ruined. “But just take a look at these first.” Katie pulled a handful of papers from her purse. They held a weight like no other. A power Bradley couldn’t fight. 

“What are these?” Rooster snatched the slightly crumpled papers from his wife’s hand. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he saw what they were. “You’re kidding right? You can’t be serious! This is insane!!” 

“Signed by daddy dearest himself.” Katie smirked as she stepped closer to Bradley, just so she could walk her fingers up his heaving chest. “I’m sure Siren would be thrilled to be presented with dishonorable discharge papers signed by the chief of Navy himself.” Bradley never thought the woman he married could be so cold, so cruel, so dangerous. “But hey, go ahead and divorce me, because I’d love to watch her world burn down to the ground and take you for every cent you’re worth.” Katie snickered all the while Bradley tore the papers up. “S’okay, they weren’t the real ones honey.” 

“You vicious little bitch.” Bradley spat as he stepped away and ran his hand frustratedly through his sandy locks. “What do you want from me! You slept with my best friend! You broke my fucking heart Kate and now you’re blackmailing the me!? Threatening the girl who actually gives enough of a shit about me? For what huh?” Rooster felt like he couldn’t breathe, he was meant ro be with you at the Hard Deck, explaining everything—how exactly was he supposed to explain this. 

“I want you back.” Katie cooed and all Bradley did was scoff. “You aren’t going to tell her about any of this either.” He followed through. “Because if you do I’ll make sure her career ends before she even knows what it’s like to be loved by you.” 

“I DON'T LOVE YOU!” Bradley shouted, he couldn’t have been more clear if he tried to be before Katie’s open palm made a stinging connection against his cheek. He stood there in shock, never once had Bradley ever hit a woman but fuck this would definitely be the closest he’d gotten. 

“Well you better start pretending!” Katie hissed. “Because I’m not going anywhere.” Within a second of her fit of rage and need for utter control, Katie was smiling, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to the same cheek she’d just slapped. 

“Dinner at the Hard Deck baby, my treat.” Not sure what to do, Bradley nodded silently as he swallowed a heavy lump in his throat. Realising that he’d just found himself in a webb his wife had spun to keep him, and realising soon after that he’d just lost the best thing that has ever happened to him. 

You. 

Because there wasn’t a chance in hell you’d ever forgive him, or believe him now. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

[mr-bas00nist]

I’m not sure wether or not your requests are open, I couldn't find a post containing much information, but I have a good idea! Or, at least what i think is a good idea... Okay so hear me out, slashers x blind s/o, and like the slashers get upset if people dump palets or stuff on you during a chase. (Silent hill)

Taking a leap here, assuming you want pyramid head in this with the Silent Hill in parenthesis and I’m gonna assume your requesting killer reader. I’ve gotchu 😏

Contains: Pyramid Head, Danny Johnson, Micheal Myers, Amanda Young and Carmina Mora because she’s my main. Usual dbd and blood stuff.

The Artist (Carmina Mora)

-Carmina is a sweetheart to you, always has been

-She makes artwork for you with chunky paint so you can feel and imagine the patterns

-At first she was skeptical and a bit angry at the entity for bringing in a blind killer

-I mean for gods sake, you can’t see blood pools or scratch marks!

-But as she watches you, she realizes just how lethal you are

-you have incredible hearing and over senses that you don’t even need to see

-When you came out of a match one day you rubbed your head with a groan

-That new survivor Ripley slammed the hell out of you with a pallet

-Carmina walked over to you concerned as she observed your state

-You reassured her you were fine but she was furious

-How dare she! You didn’t deserve that!

-next match she made sure to mori the hell out of Ripley

-The crows needed to eat after all

The Ghostface (Danny Johnson)

-Danny at first couldn’t decide whether to make fun of you or not

-he also was angry at the entity for bringing in a blind killer but he didn’t care in the way Carmina did

-He always kept a close eye on every killer just to see if he had any competition

-he was a bit aggravated that he began watching you expecting nothing much

-oh was he surprised when he saw how you functioned

-all your senses were heightened and in tune with everything around you

-you were a great listener and that intrigued him

-one day he began listening to you and talking with you

-he actually liked you

-you listened to him ramble for hours and could recite anything he could say

-one day after a particularly rough trial you were snarling in anger

-Danny notices this and quickly came over to check on you

-Fucking David and his stupid insults all match

-he pissed you off so bad you lost sight of the gene and everything else

-but don’t worry, Danny will make sure to gut him just for you and describe every photo of his corpse in grave detail

The Executioner (Pyramid Head)

-Pyramid could sense your power so he never underestimated you

-He always watched you outside of trials

-you guys grew closer just relishing in each other comfort

-when you’d talk he’d listen and when you weren’t talking you two would just sit in silence

-When you came out of a match with shakier breathing than usual he could sense immediately what happened

-entitled survivors annoying you, he’ll take care of it, he is the executioner after all

The Pig (Amanda Young)

-Amanda’s intrigued by you

-she’s actually the first to address you

-you two hit it off immediately

-unlike Danny though your the one who talks more and she listens

-She’ll listen to you ramble while she tweaks her bear traps for each match letting out soft hums and nods to make sure you knew she was listening

-Amanda actually developed the habit of helping you out with little things

-she knew you were perfectly capable of doing everything but she wanted to just feel like she was helping

-When you came back from a trial with a lot more blood then usual she didn’t say anything

-she took your coat and outerwear and just simply cleaned it for you

-it’s the least she could do for you since you helped her with her loneliness

A/N: Sorry I’ve been gone for so long! Life’s been busy!

[punkeropercyjackson]

Stephanie Brown:

Is poor

Has an abusive dad who was also a supervillain and that led to her becoming a superhero to spoil his plans but she focused a lot on helping out other less fortunate people in addition to fighting crime

Did badly often in school despite her extreme intellegence

Has anger issues and violent tendencies that manifest in her getting extra brutal in fights and being lowkey mean in general but she almost entierly directs it to people who deserve it

Is emotionally intense with ways of showing friendship that her classmates found offputting and that led to her being isolated from them and having almost no friends

Listens to Metallica

Took Tim Drake on a date to a shitty basement party with a bunch of alt teens

Was willing to kill at 14,including her own dad and only changed that because Bruce Wayne convinced her too

Loved Cassandra Cain romantically in a gritty dark future Batman run,has been Batwoman in two which is a mantle that has been held exclusively by a Kate Kane who is a butch lesbian and has shown multiple hints of being bi in the main timelines

Yelled and screamed at and even assaulted grown ass adults in her teen years for treating her badly with no fear and this stays into her adulthood

Grew up to be a Team Mom by at least her Batgirl days and the targets of her mothering were a biracial boy(Damian Wayne),two darkskin black girls(Nell Little and Tiffany Fox),a japanese girl(Maps Mizoguchi)and MANY other unnamed kids we see her being implied to care for

Presents super femininely but in a way that most guys in-universe find bad instead of attractive and she dosen't care about this because she dosen't want normies

Is a literature nerd,an artist,a gamer,a pianist AND a gymnist

Makes her own superhero gear

Uses optimism for a better world and trauma fueled spite as her motivation for heroism

Got treated like shit by almost everyone as a kid but we see this explicitly in her hero days with how much Bruce puts her down because she wasn't good enough for him

Does activism even outside of hero work

Is canonically pastel punk and accidentally autistic-coded and genuinely a real weirdgirl,not a fucking 'basic white girl' or a queen bee just because she's blonde and blue eyed and it's worth noting she's also been described as flat-chested as a jab but it not working because she loves her looks perfectly and that she's never shown any particular liking for being blonde and seeing as she got her hair from her dad,this is completely valid

She's Stephanie Brown,not Stacie White.Stop.Making.Her.Only.Trait.Her.Gender.Babygirl deserves better

[ssinboo]

Couture Kisses

summary: You've been in love with your best friend, Kim Seungmin since forever!

or

in reply to this lovely ask!

pairing: Fashion student!Kim Seungmin x Fashion student!F!Reader

word count: 4k (25~ minute read)

warnings: weight insecurities and mentions of body image issues that aren't resolved, author has very limited knowledge of fashion, making out, oral (f rec.), unprotected sex

a/n: This ask has been marinating in my inbox since june ... OTL I apologise it takes me absolutely forever to write TT I couldn't bring myself to write him as exactly asked, so this is very vanilla!

An entire collection by the end of winter. 

That’s your final project for fashion school.

Needless to say, you were panicking, hard. 

Not that you didn’t have plenty of sketches to pick and choose from, but it being your final assignment it had to be special. Twelve pieces, all able to stand on their own and at least one that you would model on your own and steal the show. 

Even though you tried to shimmy your way from the spotlight and just stand backstage, your professor was very insistent on you modelling at least one of your pieces. 

You absolutely dreaded the stage and the attention. 

Shy by nature, is how you were described by those close to you. And growing up larger than everyone around you took a toll on your self-esteem. 

Your sister was more than up for the modelling, she loved you and of course, loved all your work. Always your number 2 supporter.

Who was number 1? Oh, well, none other than Mr. Kim Seungmin. 

Unfairly handsome, Seungmin stood at a gorgeous 178cm with jet black hair and flowy bangs dyed a platinum blond. He had the most gorgeous almond eyes, which would adorably cross anytime he was a bit too tired. His nose was button shaped and a deep bridge that only accentuated his gorgeous eyes and the faintest little bump along its length. And his lips, gosh, his lips, you could go on and on about his perfectly shaped cupid’s bow or his exquisitely plump lower lip. (which only made his lip ring phase harder on your mental sanity). 

Not that you had a crush on your best friend or anything, of course not!

On other news, Seungmin was a lot less worried about this final assignment, given that you actually agree to his maniacal request: model for his collection. All because you had asked him to model yours.

There were models available, of course, but you could also bring your own and being able to take multiple measures, and do as many fittings as you wished helped ease your anxiety. 

“Come on, don’t be such a meanie!” You whine as he once again insists on this deranged idea.

“It’s only fair, we model for each other. Also, I introduced you to my friends so you could use them as your guinea pigs, you owe me one.” 

“That’s… different,” You shrug. You were grateful for his friends’ willingness to help and the sheer quantity of them was a perk. But you would not get up on that runaway, no way!

“No, it’s not.” 

“You know it is! You’re gorgeous… And I–”

“You what?” He interrupts with a thorny rasp. 

You jump at his sudden jab, suddenly self-conscious about your self-consciousness. 

“You know… I’m gonna make your clothes look ugly.”

Seungmin runs his tongue along his metal-clad teeth and slaps his hand over the cafeteria table.

“You’re gonna walk for me or I won’t do it for you. Don’t think of contacting me until you’re ready to give me the ultimatum.”

Harsh, yes. But he cared about you, more than he cared about anyone or anything, ever. You were the most gorgeous, caring, funny, intelligent, charismatic and talented person and his eyes. And everytime you put yourself down, it took every inch of restraint in his body to not grab your shoulders and yell just how much he loved you. 

Although, he regretted his words as soon as they left his lips. As soon as the anger subsided, he was ready to call you and take it all back. But you came running to your shared apartment, ready to apologise and agree. 

He was your bestest friend in the whole universe, you would do anything for Kim Seungmin. And it was about time you started doing it.

And all was forgotten by the time sketchbooks were splattered across the dining table and you exchanged ideas back and forth over chinese takeout. 

You were crazy about holidays and especially valentine’s day. It was only fair for your final assignment to reflect that. You had plenty of lovely sketches that were fitting for your early february deadline. But you racked your brain over the clothes that would fit Seungmin. 

Just what could possibly do his indescribable beauty justice? Any of your designs felt unbecoming of him. 

It’s when you’re splayed out on your sofa during your weekly movie night, watching Pride & Prejudice for the thousandth time over, that you get an idea. 

An idea so great you’re jumping and throwing the blanket over your half-asleep best friend. 

Seungmin, the poor fella, thinks something might’ve happened. So he waddles into your bedroom, blanket wrapped around his shoulders. 

You’re scrambling around for paper and pencils. 

“What’s up?” He asks, voice drenched in sleep. Had you not been entranced by your sudden burst of imagination, you certainly would’ve melted at just how adorable he looked.

“I’ve got your outfit,” is all the context you give him. 

“What?” He leans against the doorframe, fighting against his sleepy eyelids. 

“Mr. Darcy! How could I have not thought of it before! It was right underneath my nose!” You’re gesturing and your thoughts run all over the place, but you’ve got the brightest smile across your lips. 

And he stands there, watching you try and bring your vision to life, mumbles and grumbles coming out every now and then. Though his love-stricken smile is invisible to you.

Fabric shopping was always fun, especially when your best-friend tagged along. Seungmin had been keeping his inspiration a secret so far, despite your attempts, he was good at being quiet when he wished so. 

You looked at different textures and colours all day, leaving behind a good chunk of your savings at the chain store. But all for a good cause. 

There was plenty of cheaper fabric for mockups at home, so that’s where you started out. Since you didn’t want to bother Seungmin, his fit should be the last one – also, part of you was terrified of his look and how intricate it would be. 

You were still in the warm-toned shades of autumn by the time you had your collection ready for next february. 

All you needed were his measurements to get started on your Mr Darcy modern valentine’s day sort of look. It sounded strange to say out-loud, but the sketches looked great. 

Seungmin comes out of his room in a tight tank-top and loose boxer shorts and you gulp, tightening your fingers around your measuring tape, this would be the longest day of your life. 

Here he stands, in the middle of your room, surrounded by the fabrics you insisted he picked, with his arms stretched out and his chest available to you. 

Starting off easy, you run the tape from his shoulder to his wrists, fingernails lightly grazing his bare skin. His eyes don’t leave yours for a single second, especially when you’re standing so absurdly close. 

And when you have to basically almost wrap your arms around his chest to reach behind for the tape, he feels the odd urge to hug you and not let go.

You hugged often, of course, you did. You were best friends. 

However, standing in your strawberry lotion scented bedroom in summer pjs, feeling weirdly warm for the current temperature outside, Seungmin feels his skin burn every time your fingers meet his body. 

Seungmin is so beautifully proportionate, you think. Studying his slender arms and long legs, his torso, just perfectly built. In every way, he was destined to be the main character of a timeless romance. 

This is way past your normal antics of going all obsessed with the bodies that would fit your designs. Thinking about making the outfit Seungmin would wear for all to see. 

It’s like he would carry a piece of you. 

You’re chewing at your lower lip, revising all numbers and doing the maths in your head to gauge out how much of each fabric you’ve got left and how much you’ll need. 

“You got it?” He asks, startling you away from your thoughts. 

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Great. Your turn now,” He smiles, stretching out his hand for your sparkly, strawberry-scented pen and notepad. 

So came the dreaded day he would take your measurements.

You haven’t done your own sizing in over a year now, an irrational fear of the tape finds you each time you think about it. 

And part of you is totally ready to call the whole thing off and just beg Seungmin to please find someone else. 

But he gives you no window of space to talk, pushing you to stand in the middle of the room and pulling your arms in the right position.

And you feel extremely exposed. 

You’re so entangled in your spiral of self-hatred, you completely miss the sweat that threatens to pool at his forehead, or how often he’s gulped in the past five minutes. 

Though he constantly craved close proximity to you, this time might be enough to kill him. 

Your chest has always been the bane of his existence. Squishy, soft skin always pressing up against body whenever you hugged him happily, practically pouring out of any piece of clothing with a tighter fit. Rubbing around his arm when you’re walking hand-in-hand at the shopping centre. 

And he feels horrid for being such a pervert, he does. 

You’re his loving, kind, best-friend and he’s always ogling your body with his dirty male mind. 

God, your waist. Abundant flesh folded over in adorable rolls, so perfectly shaped for his hands and his hands only. He imagined himself grabbing handfuls of your ass, running his hands all over your hips and waist.

Your thighs, so full and creamy; in particular when you wear the one summer dress your sister gave you on your last birthday. That dress drives him absolutely crazy. Floral linen with a wrap-around layered cut that leaves his mind running around thoughts of undoing those flimsy ties and finding that gorgeous body you’re so intent on hiding. 

“Minnie?” You ask, a bucket of hot water over his flames. 

Your voice is so soft, dripping in affection as always. 

“Have you got it?”

He gulps, immediately shying away from your body lest he be corrupted by any evil thoughts. 

“Y-Yeah.” 

“Are you alright?”

Seungmin nods. 

“It’s bad isn’t it?” You scratch at your nape, eyes avoiding his.

“Wha- What?”

“My measurements,” You shrug. 

“No– No. Absolutely not, you’re fine, you’re perfect. It’s just– I’ve been rethinking my collection lately– Nothing to do with you,” He loses track of his words, rambling on and on while your love-stricken heart hangs hopelessly onto the word ‘perfect’.

“Well,” You fidget with the hem of your pyjama shirt, eyes slowly prodding at his reaction, “Anything I can help with?”

Seungmin finally smiles and your heart blooms in warmth, “Not yet, but there will be.” 

And so on, your days are consumed with the mindless routine of class and working on your project. 

Work went great with Seungmin’s friends, they were all so friendly and outgoing, you felt right at home. And everything looked perfect. Just missing one final look. 

Though Seungmin was more than willing to do as many fittings as you’d like, you both scheduled a double try-on day. Which would also be the first time you’d see his design. 

You keep fidgeting with your fingers, anxiety gnawing at your brain with every passing second. He’d locked himself in his room for ‘last-minute corrections’ and you were almost going crazy.

An hour later, Seungmin finally emerges from his room, a plastic cover draped over his design, keeping you from peeking. 

“So?!” You inquire, he keeps avoiding your eyes, for some reason. 

“I’m ready,” He nods and so do you. 

“Rock, paper, scissors, loser goes first?” You ask.

“Please,” he nods fervently and you smile nervously. 

So you stand before him.

He calls it out. Rock. Paper. Scissors. Shoot.

You put out Scissors.

And he put out Rock.

You go first.

Shit. 

Seungmin seems all too relieved, still psyching himself up to show his design. 

You pull your creation from the plastic covering and hand it to him. A creamy white button-up with flowy sleeves, a velvet crimson coat with embroidered details following its length and black leather trousers in a high-waisted cut. 

“Good luck, I guess,” You joke and he laughs.

“No need for it. It’s gonna be the best,"he says. 

Though when he finds himself changing into the set in the privacy of his bedroom, Seungmin is astonished, admiring every single detail you’ve poured into it. His fingers caress the handmade lacy collar, feeling the hours spent in every thread and stitch. 

And it fits his body perfectly; white linen drapes across his chest, hugging his pecs but flowing down freely down his torso. 

“You ready?” He calls out and you gnaw at your fingers in anxiety. 

“Yeah.”

Seungmin pads through the hallway, eyes scanning the living room until they meet yours. You smile, eyes glistening in adoration, taking in this moment as if it would end too soon.

“Wow.”

He smiles, “I know, it’s amazing… You’re amazing.” 

“No– It’s– You look so… Handsome,” It wasn’t uncommon for you to compliment each other, but this once felt too intimate. 

Seungmin blushes, scratching at his neck. 

“So… My turn, I guess?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Oh, how you dreaded this moment, not that you doubted his abilities but with your luck, you’d ruin his hard work with your subpar looks.

Seungmin hands you an opaque plastic cover, he notices your hesitation, but gives up on saying anything lest you actually give up. 

He plops onto the sofa as you leave for your room, chewing on his own lips. He hoped this dress could convey everything he felt for you, even if a little bit. 

It takes you excruciating 5 minutes to finally come back into the living room. 

Seungmin stands up, letting the cushion he’d held fall to the ground and match his jaw.

His work, – an asymmetrical white dress with a poofy skirt and a translucent layer of tulle decorated with snowflake shaped beads over its length – hugs your body perfectly.

You look absolutely ethereal standing before him with a shy smile, wearing the clothes he made with his own hands, every stitch done with thoughts of you. 

“You’re breathtaking,” 

You laugh quietly, “The dress is doing most of the work. It’s beautiful, Minnie, I don’t have any words–”

“No– You’re… Gorgeous.”

He’s serious, dead serious. 

And you’re stuck in a staring contest, standing five feet apart in your living room, time comes to a standstill. 

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“You’re lying.”

“I wouldn't– Not to you.” 

You study his expression, searching for any, absolutely any sign of jest, but he’s serious. He truly thinks you’re… pretty?

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Yes,” Seungmin takes a step forward, “The prettiest.”

“Since when?”

“Since forever…” 

You want to believe his words, Gosh, you do. But it’s hard, it’s hard to believe anyone would look at you and think anything even remotely positive. 

“Minnie– Seungmin, please,” You breathe out, “Please, tell me you’re not joking about this– I won’t forgive you.”

“Every day and night I think of you and I can’t take my mind off how you manage to steal my breath away every damn time.”

Your heart skips a beat or ten; he steps forward and you wish to close the space between you for once but your body doesn’t move. 

You can’t take this, not if he isn’t serious, no. You would never recover from something like this. 

“Say something, please,” He pleads. 

“I think I’m in love with you.” 

Seungmin freezes.

And you curse at yourself, there, you’ve done it now. You’ve gone ahead and ruined everything.

But he lets out a sigh of relief and his hands find your jaw, pulling you toward his body at once. 

Your fingers run up the soft fabric, gripping at the freshly overlocked edges, his pale skin teasingly on display through a tiny heart-shaped window which would later be adorned with blood-red rhinestones, though some had already been placed. 

And your breath gets caught on your throat, threatened with the lull of proximity and his minty breath fanning on your lips. Nails digging into the velvet fabric of the overcoat, your eyes are stuck to his enticing chest. 

He smells of baby powder, chalk, and of the blueberry-scented shampoo you bought on sale last month. And you let his perfume lure your stupid heart into an erratic rhythm. Let the heat of his body find your own, setting your cheeks on fire. 

When your lips meet his, it’s as if a current runs through your bloodstream, awakening every cell and fibre in your body to the taste of the man you love. 

“I’ve waited for this for forever, it seems–” He whispers against your kiss-reddened lips. 

His fingers are tangled in your hair and his lips crash against yours once again. He’s forceful, desperate. All-consuming and ravenous. 

You can only melt into his touch and seep into his body, hoping to become one and never be apart ever again. Oh no, you couldn’t stand another day away from his gorgeous lips now you’ve had a taste. 

You wrap your arms around his neck and let him guide you, taking the smallest of steps back until your legs meet the sofa and you both fall down with a loud ‘poof’.

His hands cup your cheeks, tongue ravishing your mouth with relentless want, he drinks every moan and sigh before it even makes it past your lips. You’ve barely made out for five minutes and you can feel the volume of his hard-on poking at your hip bone. 

Oh, it’s an incomparable rush of dopamine to affect someone so much. 

Seungmin kisses at your lips, cheeks and jaw, nipping and sucking at your skin until he leaves behind his mark; his claim on you. His teeth graze along your skin, erupting goosebumps over its path.

“Don’t– Don’t want to ruin your dress–” You sigh, willing yourself to push him away. 

He smiles against your collarbones.

“Wanna take it off, then?”

An indescribable heat flushes your body.

“Seungmin!!!” You yell. 

“What? Take it off…” His hand reaches for the hem of the dress, toying with the soft tulle. 

“No-!” 

“Let me see your body, hm?” He hums, puppy-eyed and all.

“It’s–” You look away. You could barely fathom the idea of standing naked before anyone let alone the guy you’ve loved for ages. 

Seungmin licks his lips, “Look, I’ve– I’ve been dreaming of this– You, under me…” His fingers ghost against your bare thigh. “I– I… You have no idea what you do to me, now, do you?”

You shake your head.

He reaches for your hand and then places it above the leather-clad bulge that rages in his trousers. As soon as your hand barely grazes the fabric, Seungmin gulps. 

You’re overtaken with a desire to pleasure him.

You’re rid of the dress, – even with your pleas to treasure it, Seungmin throws it aside, eager to feel you bare. 

You attempt to cover your modesty, but he solves that issue by pinning your hands atop your head. As he truly sees your body for the first time, you watch his eyes glisten in true adoration, a dark hint of lust behind them. Your skin burns hot under his attention.

“You’ll be the death of me, y’know…” He jokes, but there’s a hint of truth, his heart pounds against his ribcage. 

He peppers kisses along your chest, tongue licking at your skin, watching you squirm and sigh at his every touch, how your nipples stand hardened and kiss-bitten. Trailing down your stomach, he makes sure to nip at the abundant flesh, to marvel at how plump and absolutely perfect you are. 

Oh, and he mumbles at every move just how ethereal you are.

His lips graze your inner thighs, licking at your skin but not where you need him the most. Every time he breathes against your aching pussy, you practically jump. 

Though he planned to tease you endlessly, Seungmin can barely hold back his wish to do nothing but lose himself between your gorgeous thighs. 

He licks a long, torturous strip along your core.

You squeal. 

But despite your squealing and squirming, Seungmin’s got a strong grip on your hips and he is making sure your pussy is all his for the tasting. And he finds it, he might be the one most affected, after all.

You taste absolutely divine, liquid euphoria flowing through his lips and eager tongue. He eats you out like the world is ending; as if this is all a dream and he will wake up alone and hot in his bedroom. 

And you moan his name with each syllable sounding more tempting than the last. 

Only once you come on his tongue, does he rest; but not for long, no. 

If it were up to him, he would get a couple orgasms out of you, lay in between your legs for hours. 

Seungmin leans back on his knees, admiring just how absolutely fucked-out you look with messy hair and heaving chest. And you look up at him with glossy, swollen lips and teary eyes. He can’t resist you, after all.

He kisses you again and again, fingers fidgeting with his trousers; Goddammit, why didn’t you put a zipper in this finger? Historical accuracy be damned when you want to fuck someone!

After his trousers are off, you urge him to lose the shirt as well and he complies. Seungmin is gorgeous; milky, unblemished skin with a slender build. 

“Look at you, so perfect– So eager– Just for me–” He breathes out, tip teasingly rubbing along your dripping core. 

You mewl, hands reaching out for him.

“Come on, baby, tell me– Tell me what you want.”

“I– I want you… I want you to fuck me.”

He curses a thousand bad words under his breath. 

When he finally slips it in, his fingers dig into your love handles, leaving behind tiny crescent moon shaped marks. You arch into him and he holds you firmly, arms wrapped around your body. 

He manoeuvres your legs over his thighs for a better angle and you feel him reach the deepest parts of your body. And you sigh, letting yourself feel full, stretched beyond bliss. 

It’s only when he notices with a devilish smirk how you’ve started to grind against his hips that he starts to move.

You are bathed in pleasure and lust.

His hands run up and down your leg, worshipping your thighs and your stomach that jiggles with every powerful thrust of his hips. Oh, and your tits, how hypnotic is it that they bounce up and down?

You moan his name over and over, mind hazy with pleasure and he lavishes in that feeling. Of rendering you cockdrunk, providing you with inconceivable bliss.

Seungmin pounds into you relentlessly, skin slapping sounds an obscene symphony that fills your ears, only accompanied by the breathy moans; Oh, the sweetest of sounds were the way he sang your name.

You clench around him, greedy and lovestruck. 

“Minnie– I’m gonna–”

“Shit– Come on, baby. Let go–” He groans out, hand reaching to rub your clit. 

Your second orgasm crashes into your body with an unstoppable explosion. You squirm and Seungmin leans forward to capture your lips in kiss, to drink your most euphoric moans. 

Hands wrapped around his back, you pull him flush to your heaving chest, letting the pleasure find your fuzzy brain. 

When he finally reaches his own climax, he pulls out, painting your skin with translucent ropes of white. Draping over your stomach pale strings of his seed, a claim. 

You’re smiling when his eyes meet yours and he is filled with immense relief; That’s you’re happy and well. 

He lays by your side, pulling you on top of him with a smile that mirrors yours. 

You lay on his chest, drawing figure eights along his soft skin to the stable sound of his heartbeat. Your own heart is draped in joy beyond comprehension. 

“I think the clothes look great,” Seungmin jokes.

You laugh. “Yeah, I think they do.”

[athenaistired]

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂❞

— 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐭.𝟑 //

ᴘʟᴏᴛ: ᴅᴏɴɴᴀ ʜᴀᴅ ʟᴏꜱᴛ ʜᴇʀ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ, ʜᴇʀ ꜰᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴡ ꜱʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴛ ɢᴏ ᴏꜰꜰ ʜᴇʀ ᴋɪɴᴅɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴɪᴛʏ.

art credit & word count: 2634

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ (ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ꜱᴘᴏɪʟᴇʀꜱ): ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴇꜱ, ʜᴏꜱᴘɪᴛᴀʟɪᴢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ɴᴏɴ-ᴄᴏɴꜱᴇɴꜱᴜᴀʟ ᴀʙᴏʀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ ᴘʟᴏᴛᴛɪɴɢ, ᴅᴇᴘʀᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ, ɢʀɪᴇꜰ, ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ʙᴜʟʟʏɪɴɢ

— 𝑴𝒀 𝑳𝑼𝑺𝑻𝑭𝑼𝑳 𝑯𝑼𝑺𝑩𝑨𝑵𝑫 !3!

Donna woke up to the sunlight forcing its way through her eyelids. She was in an unfamiliar bed, with Diluc gone from her side, and with a strange string attached to her arm. Her memory was still hazy; the only thing that she could recall was that she was speaking to you about Diluc, but somehow she ended up here.

“You’re awake.” An unfamiliar man in a black suit was sitting in front of her bed on a chair, he seemed to be reading a book in another language with a drawing of a human’s head on the cover, “I’m Sebastian, personal doctor working for Master Y/N in case of emergencies. Just call me by my name. How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay. Just a bit sore all over..” Donna mumbled back, to which the man nodded, “And.. My stomach kind of hurts..”

“That’s expected.” He reached for the paper laying by her nightstand, “You’ve been here for 32 hours, in and out of consciousness. Your medical record is missing information about your allergies, but considering that you and Master Y/N were having tea together, I’d say that you had quite an aggressive reaction towards some type of fruit which was used to make the blend.”

The moment he explained what had occurred hours prior — memories came rushing back in Donna’s mind, and she instantly felt more awake than ever.

“So.. It wasn’t poison?” She asked with hesitance, and the man almost dropped the mug which he was holding in his other hand.

“What kind of person do you think Master Y/N is to poison someone in a broad daylight, in their own home, with this many people around? Of course this was an accident.” The doctor scoffed and got up, “Anyways, leave whenever you feel like it. You seem more than fine to me.” He quickly detached the IV drip out of her hand, and bandaged up her elbow, “Try not to put any unnecessary strain on this arm.”

“A-Alright..”

Donna had actually never seen one of the proper doctors before in her life. Her family were strong believers in Herbology and Barbados’ will, so she wasn’t exactly sure why the doctor had concluded she was allergic to some fruit. Her whole life she tended to the gardens, sold massive varieties of flowers, and even once was a waitress at the bar with all kinds of drinks. Something didn’t seem to perfectly match what Sebastian had described, but maybe she just had to ask you what the two of you had that day to get to the bottom of this situation.

“Donna! Are you alright?!”

Suddenly, the doors bursted open with Diluc rushing inside. He looked even worse than last time she saw him. He was beginning to smell, his hair was forming mats and shining with grease, and his eyes were puffed and red; huge eye-bags forming above his cheeks.

“H-honey.. What has happened to you?” The woman gasped in shock at the appearance of her lover. He seemed to be taken with surprise by her reaction, and took a few steps back to stare at himself in the mirror.

The man froze.

Slowly, he reached to cup his own face as if he couldn’t recognize it.

“That dammed Y/N..” He mumbled to himself, “I am actually falling apart..” He whispered, while crouching down to take a seat on the ground. Now, Donna was more than worried. She got up from her bed and hugged her lover in a tight embrace, “Did they do something to you?” He pulled away to look deep into the woman’s eyes, “Did they hurt you?”

“I..” The brunette wasn’t sure what to say. Was she poised? Was this intentional? Accidental? Were you naturally hostile or angered by the circumstances? She had no clue. “I don’t know. Sebastian told me that I had an intense allergic reaction to something and that Y/N called in the medics to save me.”

“Oh.” Diluc blinked in surprise, “T-that’s confusing me even more now..”

“I know..” The woman sighed, “I know.”

-

You sat at the edge of your bed, as Marie kneeled before you with your right hand in her skillful palms. Your feet were soaking in a warm tub with rose petals floating above the water’s surface, and the maid gently trimmed your cuticles and the length of your nails to perfection. The two of you sat in silence throughout the whole procedure, as you stared at the flickering flame of a candle on your nightstand.

“What do you think, Marie? What are they going to do next?” You asked her a question, and she didn’t even bat an eye before answering to you.

“They are going to try to murder you, my Master.”

You didn’t expect such conclusion. Truly, your death seemed to be an only out for Diluc’s desperate cry for freedom. The moment he’d sign a contract provided by you — his life would be over. Staying in the same mansion with you would also ensure his and Donna’s suffering until their last breaths. But in order for him to be back in control of his future — he would need to erase you. You let out a bitter laugh, however, Marie’s expression remained as stoic as always.

“What do you think I should do?” You questioned further. You watched her grab a warm cloth, and rub your palms in gentle motion, as if trying to cleanse you of your sins.

“I am a mere servant, my Master.” She reminded you.

For a second, you saw red. Without a thought you slapped her hands away from yours’ and grabbed at her chin — forcing her to look you in the eyes. She didn’t tremble, she didn’t fight, she just froze. Your anger vanished, and slowly you melted into a fake smile. Your thumb hovered over her bottom lip, and you brought her closer to yourself, until you both could feel each others’ breaths.

“You’re my servant, Marie. I don’t keep fools around me, do I?” You then let go off her, making her lose her balance for a second, but she quickly gathered herself and bowed her head in submission, “Now, speak.” She rose her gaze, and you encouraged her once again with a raised brow.

“I believe for there to be two options.” Marie began her speech, and took your feet out the tub to place them on her thighs and wipe them dry, “You get rid of Master Diluc and send Mistress Donna back to Mondstat. Nobody would believe her that it was you who hurt Master Diluc, but even if they would, a single mention of his crimes across the world and that it was all done in self-defense would guarantee your innocence.”

She was finally done taking care of you, and proceeded to reach for freshly the ironed socks by her side.

“And second?”

“You get rid of Mistress Donna, and make Master Diluc fall into the deepest depths of despair, so that he won’t have anyone else to turn to for comfort — but you.” Marie buckled up your shoes, and stood up, instantly straightening her back, “The choice lies in whether you prefer to execute quick revenge and forget, or, to keep a hold of your revenge until your last breath.”

You laughed at her words.

“Do you believe for revenge to be a waste of time?”

“Many people who consider themselves above others would say that, but I solely believe that your decision is absolute, my Master. I believe a yearn for revenge made you into a person who you are today, and Master..” Marie locked her hands together by her chest, “You are an entity beyond my comprehension.”

“You flatter me, Marie.”

Looking at her, you saw emotions which Diluc had never expressed towards you. Yes, he loved you. But young love comes and goes. Meanwhile every single one of your servants in this house, were undoubtedly loyal to you. There was no hesitation that every single maid, butler, cook, and even the recently hired doctor would die for you. Kill for you. Live for you.

Diluc was never any of those things.

“I think I made my decision.”

You’ve made that decision long time ago, and there was no reason to back out on it now. Even if Diluc would put you in the casket, you would crawl out with a knife in your hand to continue to haunt him. You weren’t sure where this obsession was coming from. Perhaps it was boredom. Maybe, you were just that evil and prideful. Or even..

It was just fun.

-

Donna decided to finally leave Master Y/N house and go for a walk. They have been living in the mansion for a month now, and each day was worse than the previous one. She tried to make it work. She followed all lessons which you signed her up for, she learned the etiquette, she put herself on a diet, did her hair to the best of her ability, but one thing for sure — each day was more miserable than the other.

The moment that the sun would rise, she would feel the dread wash over her. Even when you weren’t at the mansion your spirit and your presence were felt everywhere. Your mere gaze was driving her insane, even giving her nightmares. She had a dream, where you were smirking at her with a maniacal glare in your eyes whilst holding a blade to her throat. Then, there were visions of you poisoning her, assassinating her, or hanging her off the ceiling.

Donna’s thoughts were getting darker and darker. From a light and careless girl, she has become something else entirely.

Perhaps, being with Diluc was the biggest mistake of her life.

As she finally stepped through the gates of Mondstat — the whispers began. Nobody in this city knew what you were truly like. How terrifying, how cruel, how manipulative. They all saw you from the best angle, meanwhile, Donna was seen from her worst.

“Homewrecker..”

“Slut!”

“Whore!”

“To get together with a married man, no shame at all!”

“How can she even bear to come back here..”

Even though they were mere whispers, their voices seemed to be louder than her own thoughts. She had to bite down on her bottom lip to keep herself away from shedding tears. Her life had become so terrible. Although she was outside, it felt like the curtains were still drawn. She couldn’t see the sunlight as bright as it used to be. A part of her was still locked away in that mansion — forever caged.

She felt her heart rase, her breathing picking up — she was panicking. There were so many people, and they all hated her. Yes, she did a bad thing, but did she really deserve all of this? Were her good deeds before this now completely forgotten? Where did all of her friends go when she needed them the most?

She had no one.

She was so alone.

“Is Sister Barbara around?” Donna asked as she had finally reached the church. Her feet felt sore, and the base of her spine was aching.

“One second.” One of the nuns had ran off to get her. As Donna waited she took a seat and looked around the church. Perhaps, she should beg, no, plead Barbados for His guidance. For His help. For His involvement.

“She’s here.”

“Donna! I haven’t seen you in a while.” If there were someone who hadn’t changed their attitude towards her — it was all the nuns, especially Sister Barbara. Maybe she was just very good at hiding her real thoughts, but Donna preferred to indulge herself in a more positive light.

“Hi, Sister Barbara.” The brunette murmured shyly, “I sent you a letter a week ago..” She reminded the other, and at first Barbara seemed confused, until she remembered.

“Ah, yes, yes!” The young girl continuously nodded her head, “Let’s head to a more private room.” She gestured for Donna to follow her out the church, and into the next building.

Barbara wasn’t the only doctor in Mondstat, in fact, she wasn’t even an actual licensed professional how Sebastian was. However, people with healing hydro abilities were granted permission to accept patients and examine them if required. Donna didn’t trust Sebastian, so, she sent a letter ahead explaining her symptoms to the blonde girl and arranged time and date of their meeting.

Barbara made the woman lay down on the examination table, as she checked what worried her most. She applied pressure on different parts of her body, especially her stomach. Then, a frown covered her face and she spread out her palms across Donna’s stomach — hydro particles suddenly formed in the air and circled around each one of her fingers — until they had vanished. It seemed that the blonde had come to her conclusion, but was hesitating to speak.

“Donna..”

“What? What is it?” The brunette was already imaging the worst. Was she dying? She must be dying! “What’s wrong with me?” The longer she wasn’t hearing an answer, the more panicked she got.

“You’ve had a miscarriage.”

What.

“I.. I was pregnant?” Donna stared, and Barbara nodded, “What do you mean I had a miscarriage?” She breathed out a pained laugh, “I didn’t bleed or anything.. I..” And then — it hit her. She understood what happened. You didn’t poison her that day. Your intent wasn’t her assassination, but rather.. “N-no way..”

She was drowning.

Her lungs were getting filled with the sea of sorrow.

“NOOOOOooooOOoOOOooOOooo!” A howling, blood-curdling cry was heard echoing through the halls of the hospital. Her tears were running down her cheeks like a river, and Barbara’s comforting embrace felt like the last hold on her humanity.

That day Donna hadn’t just lost her past, but she also lost her future.

-

Donna came back home only a week later. She might have not even known her child, but the grief was weighting down at her heart. She always wanted to be a mother, and from a young age she was told to be infertile. She never said anything to Diluc about it, because the topic was never brought up. But now, she was finding out that her miracle baby was forcefully taken out of her. She felt violated, torn, and broken. Every part of her soul had shattered like glass with pieces scattered so far apart that they’ll never be fixed back together.

“Donna.. Finally.”

Diluc was hugging her, but she couldn’t even feel it. Her body just froze, meanwhile, her gaze and mind were elsewhere. She couldn’t stop thinking about her lost child. Was it a girl, a boy, or twins? Were they going to have her brown her or their father’s crimson locks? What about their eyes, their height, their smiles? Were they going to grow up to be strong and powerful, or would they prefer a more standard and quiet life? Why did this happen to her? Why wasn’t she given a chance?

If only you had asked her to decide between her child and Diluc, she would have chosen her child in a heartbeat.

“Where have you been?” The man whispered into her ear, and she felt his tears falling onto her shoulder and soaking through her shirt. She hadn’t cried since that day. She hadn’t even said a word. Her whole world was stuck in that one moment, unable to move on, “What happened to you, my beautiful?” Diluc was playing with the locks of her hair, just how he used to.

He hadn’t changed, but she was now a different person. She was in grief. He was in despair.

“Can we kill them?”

Diluc instantly pulled away, and stared at Donna’s empty eyes. He blinked once, twice, but still couldn’t believe his ears.

“K-kill who?”

“Master Y/N. I want to take their life.“

FINAL CHAPTER !

[pervysenpaix]

Friends ... Have you ever thought about TechSupport!Kirishima, that's too fucking hot to be a computer nerd? Like you were completely taken aback when you saw his massive cock muscles. And like-wouldn't it be even crazier if y/n was kinda idk .... pervy 🥴

Masterlist

18+NSFW|MDNI tw!AgedUp, dubcon?, pervyfem!reader, use of "spunk"😍, pussy drunk Kirishima, breeding, overstimulation, spitting, Kiri is a good boy

Imagine spending hours researching and compiling data for a report that’s due in the morning and just when you’re about to submit it into the database, the screen goes blank. You’ve literally been staring at a screen for hours. Crunching numbers and gathering evidence just for all your hard work to disappear.

What do you even feel in this moment? Nausea? Dread? Disappointment?

Anger.

Pure unadulterated anger that has you screaming at your monitor and throwing your stapler against the wall—which leaves at not-so-subtle hole that would definitely be coming out of your paycheck.

If I even still have a job in the morning.

Irritation bubbles underneath your skin in a way that has you fidgeting in your seat. Manicured fingers tap against the mahogany wood of your desk and the foot of your Louboutin pump digs into the carpet. Being the youngest executive at such an elite firm led to an overwhelming amount of pressure. Not to mention being the only woman on the board—that presented difficulties in itself. It’s like your male peers were just waiting for you to fuck up. Just prove yourself as the incompetent bimbo that’s no more than in office eye candy. Fuck—they were gonna have a field day with this.

You stared at the blank screen in utter defeat, thinking of how you’ll walk out of the boardroom carrying a box filled with office supplies and snacks in a dignified manner. Then, it hit you—a potential solution to your problem. The computer nerds in the IT department!

You nearly broke a nail lunging for your cellphone and placing the emergency order. The disinterested voice claiming to send someone “soon” had you a bit worried, but to your surprise there was a knock on your door five minutes later.

“Come in!” You chirped hopefully, praying that this scrawny little—

Wait a minute.

Is there a football tryout or something that you didn’t know about ?

“Hi there, I’m Kirishima. Nice to meet you. I hear you’re having some trouble with your laptop?”

Your jaw hit the floor when the 6’6 giant crouched over the threshold and into your office because there’s no way that this big brute of a man was some tech savant.

Well—brute might not be the right word. This guy had the sunniest disposition. Bright red hair pulled into a low ponytail. Radiant ruby eyes with flecks of blue that shimmered against the fluorescent lights. A gentle voice that was deep yet calming. And his smile–sharp pointy teeth that were perfectly aligned and sparkling white, framed by the plushest set of pink lips that you’ve ever seen. So, brute might not be the best word to describe this guy. At least not from the neck up. But from the neck down…

Well, that was a different story.

The man was MASSIVE. Everything about him was big. And I do mean everything. That thin light blue polo and tight khaki slacks held little to the imagination. The fabric was stretched so tight over the expanse of muscle it looked as if it was painted on. To make matters worse, you could make out the faintest lines of black ink peaking underneath his sleeve and slightly above his collar hinting at some ornate chest plate that made him impossibly more desirable.

“You work in IT?” Kirishima winced at the accusatory tone and scratched the back of his head. “Heh-yeah. I know I’m a little young. I just started today but I promise I can get the job done!” He chuckled nervously, completely oblivious to the fact that you weren’t confused by his age. Hell—he looked to be about the same age of you and you’d never discriminate on someone based on their age. Or anything at all for that matter. It just that—he’s so hot.

Oh fuck, well now I’m no better than the assholes I work with.

“No. No. I was just a little taken aback is all.” You threw your hands up and smiled, which made him visibly relax, “I’m sure you’ll do fine. I’m kind of counting on it”. Kirishima nodded with a bright smile plastered on his face and headed towards your workstation.

The redhead had the issue resolved in a matter of minutes. Saving you from corporate humiliation and help wanted ads. You were so happy you could kiss him—which is exactly what you said and turned him into a flustered mess. “I- Me- No- that’s just my job!” His voice cracked and he flushed a deeper shade of red that crawled up his neck and covered his cheeks and ears. He was so embarrassed. Is blushing considered manly? But what man in their right mind wouldn’t get nervous around such a gorgeous woman.

Everything about you was perfect. First and foremost, you were this powerful exec who had to be some sort of genius because there’s no way that you were older than him. Then all the other stuff. Beautiful face. Angelic voice. Sweet laugh. Kind smile. A plush body that looked so soft—

“Kirishima?” your bubbly voice yanked him from his brief, and slightly inappropriate, departure from reality. It’s not okay for him to think of his higher ups like that. No matter how sweet your perfume smells or how tiny you are compared to him. He just got this job and there’s no way he could fuck it up by being unprofessional. So, he cleared his throat and said his goodbyes. Hoping to keep his interactions with you to a minimum, lest he be tempted…

But you had other plans.

You see it’s hard being a successful businesswoman and finding a guy that checks all your boxes. The guys you worked with were all arrogant assholes who made jokes about you being their housewife. But Kirishima was so different! He revered you and always treated you with the upmost respect. A perfect gentleman that never stepped out of line no matter how hard you pushed him.

All those urgent calls that you sent in requesting him specifically because “he was such a good worker”. When actually all you wanted was to watch his red brows furrow when he scratched his head trying to figure out how you managed to get 17 different malware prompts that each lead to some dead end. Little did he know, you asked your best friend Mina to send some codes your way that would give you a chance to ogle the redhead cutie. Pushing up against him while you peered over his shoulder and pretended to be interested in how he was fixing something you’d purposely broken.

It was fun too.

He always got so nervous and flustered. He’d avert his eyes and not so discreetly adjust himself when your soft breasts pushed against his skin. Sometimes he’d audibly gulp when you’d run your French tipped nails down his toned arm. His attraction was obvious, but he never made any moves. So, one day you decided to take matters into your own hands.

“Wow—I’ve never seen anything like this. Your motherboard is completely fried. We might need to get you a whole new set up”. A theatrical gasp sounded from your chest. “Oh no, That’s awful!” You exclaimed, as if you didn’t disassemble the whole thing and drench it in iced coffee before you called him over. “Yeah—he shook his head, “but it’s not too big of a deal. I’ll just run over to the tech department grab everything”. You hummed, biting your lip, and chewing on the tip of a pen in a way that shouldn’t have made his pants tight. God—he hoped you didn’t notice, but of course you did.

“Hey, Kirishima… Why don’t I come with you? I can help you carry everything”. His eyes widened comically, completely taken aback at the thought of your tiny self lifting more than a finger. “Oh no! It’s fine. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt”. You pouted, fingers twirling around a tendril of hair and took a step closer to him, so that the two of you were standing chest to chest. “Well at least let me keep you company”.

The wet squelching of your sopping cunt reverberated off the walls lewdly paired by your sultry moans and Kirishima’s muffled grunts. Saliva spilled between your fingers from where your hand was pressed against his mouth that hung open in ecstasy. Big hands found purchase on the globes of your ass, not so much guiding—more like holding on for dear life while rode his dick. Bodies pressed together like the pieces of a puzzle in the cramped space of the equipment room.

Vermillion stands fell freely against his tanned skin and clung to the sweat beading against his flesh. Slowly—you whined your waist, drawing circles against the meaty cock that was bruising your cervix. A shudder ran down the redhead’s spine and his hips spasmed up into your heat, making your core clench around him. Slick saturated his thighs, pooling in the tufts of curly black pubes nestled above his engorged balls.

Leaning back slightly—you rolled your hips at a new angle that pushed and pulled Kirishima’s dick simultaneously. He whimpered loudly against your hand. Too pussy drunk to care about getting caught fucking his superior in the middle of the day. “Shh-“ you cooed, tightening the hand against his mouth. “You have to be quiet, baby. You can be a good boy for me, yeah?”. He nodded immediately, fighting the intense urge to scream your name because he was so willing to prove his obedience. Be your good boy. You chuckled, cunt spasming at the desperation in his red eyes. You’d never felt so desired. The way Kirishima gazed upon your face made you feel like some masterfully crafted work of art. It was like you were the only girl in the world. The only thing that mattered to him was your beautiful face and angelic cunt, milking his balls dry and bouncing on his dick to the point of overstimulation.

Tears fell from his eyes and his heart beat in time with each wet slap of your cunt. Even though your pussy was so filled with spunk that it dribbled down your legs—you never stopped bouncing. Cupping his balls with your free hand to squeeze him dry. You moved your hand just in time to hear his pornographic moan as his hips stuttered, shooting blanks into your gushy center.

He looked so pretty. Eyes rolled to the back of his head and mouth hung open with drool on the sides. Never one to miss out on a great opportunity—you leaned forward and slowly dribbled saliva down his throat, which he swallowed hungrily. It was enough to send you tumbling over the edge. Moaning and whispering words of praise while Kirishima whined and whimpered your name.

You clung to one another for what felt like hours before the red head broke the silence by clearing his throat.

“So umm—would you like to maybe go on a date?”

Taglist| @xogabbiexo, @yo-nn, @plussizeficchick, @bookwormsenpai,@tenyaiidasslut, @dabilovesme, @erenyeagerswhore, @tsukihime25, @nasty-quillz, @namjoonswifeyy, @7inaa, @m00nchildthings, @blkchxrryblyss, @38riku

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[mvltisstuff]

hi!! so i have this idea and i think you’d be perfect to execute it. if you wouldn’t mind-

could you do a possible buck one-shot where maybe the reader is there when buck gets struck by lightening? just full of angst and sadness and maybe the reader has to be held back by eddie or hen or something and it’s like the world stopped for reader and just some sad stuff.

thank you so so much!! <33

bad omens - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

gif from @tvuniverse

a/n: hey there ;)) i’m so happy you trusted me with your lovely idea, i hope you love it!

lightning never scared y/n. she always saw them as innocent storms, one in a million chances. a rumble of thunder was just a bowling ball, and lightning was just someone turning a light on in heaven. she was never fearful of seeing lightning brighten up the sky, until it threatened to take down her sun.

one in a million chance to be struck by lightning, and the love of her life was the one. she didn’t know who to hate. herself for letting buck go up there. mother nature for letting this happen. buck for his bravery and skill. she hated how the one in a million chance left her sweaty hand grasping bucks on the bed, seeing the tube lay in his throat and his chest mechanically rise. she hated how the day old, damp uniform she was clad in felt on her body. she hated the way bucks closed eyes might never open again to show off his blues. there wasn’t a part of it she didn’t hate.

she was so happy that day, everything had gone perfectly fine. she loved days like this, but the night quickly turned to the worst day of her life.

staring at bucks dangling body from the ladder. trying not to smell the burning mark that the strike left over the area. her feet moved faster than her mind, instantly running to buck as he hung lifelessly from a rope. it felt like a dream, a nightmare. as if there were a demon chasing her, and she couldn’t run away, she just had to face it. henrietta and chimney’s arms were locked on each of y/n’s, pulling her body weight back so she couldn’t run.

the raw screams of eddie yelling for his best friend echoed in the dim hospital room. the earth had halted on its axis, leaving y/n upside down in the middle of the world, holding the hand of hers.

he was rolled away so fast into the hospital doors, not even giving her a chance to land the last kiss on his head. not giving her a chance to say what could’ve been goodbye. the people around her became non-existent. she stood behind, watching from the sliding doors of the hospital.

“come on, buck, hang on buddy!” chimney says.

“do more!” eddie yells back to the nurses and paramedics.

y/n didn’t say a word. not a single sentence could describe the chains wrapped around her heart. nothing could break her free from the prison she was being held in. her team looked at her standing behind, just watching her hands fall to her sides. her lips were parted, with short breaths leaving her mouth. her face was beet red from the anger, confusion, and the pure horror.

she refused to leave as she watched over bucks body like a hawk. she refused to pay attention to maddies sobs as chimney tells her what happened to her baby brother. she wants to scream, she want to bawl her eyes out in agony, but she can’t.

“y/n,” hen says, stepping into the room first to try and snap y/n out of her mind. “i brought you clothes. you should change, you’ll get sick in that cold, wet stuff.”

“thank you,” she murmurs. “i’ll stay here.”

“y/n, sweetie-“

“don’t. i want to stay right here. i’m not going anywhere.” hen wanted to object, but she knew that no one was moving y/n until she was ready.

chimney and maddie came in next, maddies heart physically breaking at the look on y/n’s face as she sat next to buck and his unchanging position. chimney tried to coerce her into changing, or even eating.

“y/n/n, you should eat something, it’s not good to let yourself fall away. he’d want you to take care of yourself.”

“he’d want me here with him. im not that hungry anyway,” she tells him, not being sure if she’d be able to keep anything down.

it was eventually bobby who made his way in, noticing y/n’s hair collect frizz and her eyelids darken.

“im not going anywhere, cap.”

“im not asking you to go anywhere.” bobby speaks, a calming aura leaving his words. she only looks up for a moment, and looking back down to buck. “im going to pray, if you’d like to join me.”

bobby began saying his prayers, and y/n hoped to any god listening that they’d listen. she wasn’t ever the religious type, but faith was all she needed, and unfortunately all she was left with.

the hours ticked by, on and on, until the doctors decided buck was ready. that is, to live or die. they said that he would be dead if he didn’t take a breath on his own when he was no longer intubated. a part of y/n wanted to put it off. if that tube was removed and he didn’t do what he needed, she’ll have lost him forever from the electricity in the sky. he’d become one with the thing that killed him. at least now she could hold his hand and believe that maybe he’d come back.

as bucks mother and father watched over him, and maddie stood in the corner, fearful to watch his brother swing on the lines of death and life, y/n remained in the warm but uncomfortable chair she had been in for too long, barely ever being able to stand. no one had ever seen her so low, horrified that she wouldn’t make it out without buck.

“are you ready?” the doctor questions, asking the family if they want to possible take the life from buck in this moment.

his parents nod, looking over to maddie as her brows scrunch together, but also complying. all four of them look over to y/n, seeing her eyes locked on bucks shut ones. “not really, but go ahead.”

the tube was taken out painfully slow, the room so quiet that the beeping of his heart monitor felt like fireworks. the air was thick and eerie, almost ready to accept buck into the darkness.

what y/n would never know, is that buck watched from the other room. he saw her falling apart, and ignored his other form. if he gave up, he’d be giving up on her. she’s been there for him through everything, and he has never once seen her look so alone, even surrounded by all these supportive people. he didn’t even want to her his alter speak any more, as he grabbed his sledgehammer and shattered the glass separating him from the rest of his life.

his chest rose quickly and tall, the sharp air entering his nose as y/n could only graze the skin on his hand. each breath from buck came one by one after, a perfect rhythm that she could find herself falling asleep to as she lays on his chest.

each breath he took left a crack in her heart, another water droplet in her eye ready to fall.

“i have high hopes for him, everyone.” the doctor smiles, looking at y/n as they all look between her and buck.

she cries. she cries more than she ever has before, soaking the blanket besides buck more than the rain on the day he was almost taken. her chest heaves, her breathing worse than the ill man in front of her. the wet streams fall down her cheeks and pool on her neck, sniffling in to keep her completely from falling apart.

buck spends the next strenuous hours waking up from his coma, knowing what waits for him when he rouses. she still remains, wanting to be there for him when he regains consciousness. she wants her hand to be on his, and his eyes to meet hers. his soft lids and long lashes flutter, revealing his tired, bright blue eyes to the world that has tried to hard to ruin it. he’s met with the universe in front of him, the small curl on y/n’s lips and the beauty she carries around with her.

“nice of you to join us,” she smiles, her voice cracking from exhaustion. he looks less tired, almost transferring energy to her. “i missed you.” understatement.

“i knew you’d be waiting for me. never had doubts about that.”

“if you ever try to leave me again, i’ll kill you myself.”

“i am never leaving someone like you.” the couple just smiles back at the other, his hand cupping the side of her cheek. “come kiss me.”

she obliges, standing up from her chair and letting him pull her closer. her lips press against his, letting themselves fall into the foreign grasp of the other. he lets his hands wander over her body, running them all over the places he loves more than anything. he finally brings himself to pull away and look at her face, the need for cleanliness and sleep written all over it.

“now, go take care of yourself, please. i’m not going anywhere.”

[venussaidso]

Rahu Dominant Themes — 𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 (part 2 of) 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟕

warning ⚠️: suicide, death, movie spoilers!

All the Rahu nakshatras are ruled by deities related to the weather. Rudra (Ardra), being god of roaring storms. Vayu (Swati), being god of wind. Varuna (Shatabhisha), being god of the seas & sky. This validating the volatile nature of these nakshatras, explaining why they get a reputation of being unstable and emotional in tropical astrology being cast as water signs.

The story of Vayu's son being struck by Indra's weapon and Vayu wishing to cause harm to all his subjects shows the intensity of Swati. Lord Vayu lives inside all creatures. So when his son was severely injured, his rage grew as no one batted an eye, his fury making all worlds start to feel like hell. Creating unhappiness in all lives. Even the gods were miserable, constantly hoping for some sliver of contentment back. Swati is where desire is born from a state of misery and lack. Vayu's rage translated in everybody's affliction. Their punishment being in a cycle of desiring and suffering. Being that Rahu is constantly dissatisfied, chasing things he might never attain, or attaining desired things which never fulfill the heart, we see how it's perfectly expressed with Vayu through Swati. And Vayu himself, representing the rage of injustice in the world and causing obstruction through Swati as I briefly touched on in the first post.

About justice and morality, which I see in the other nakshatras. In relation to Rudra's story: Lord Brahma, the Creator of all creations, was harassing his own daughter (who he created directly from his semen), Saraswati, continuously pushing his sexual advances on her even as she ran away. He sprouted five heads in search for her when she disappeared from his sight. And immediately, Lord Rudra cut off the root of his heads. He condemned him for his incestuous actions and decided that there will be no proper way for anyone to worship him as he is unholy. Brahma was ostracized. Ever since that incident, Brahma has been reciting the four Vedas as a way to repent. Rudra being righteous in the story, cutting what is so clearly wrong and sinful. From that, we can see how this manifests through Ardra as I touched on in the first post.

Then Lord Varuna, ruling over Shatabhisha, is the guardian of moral law. He punishes sinners by binding them with his famous noose which is in the form of a snake. His name can be derived from the Sanskrit root which means 'to surround' or 'to bind'. This referencing the rivers and ocean surrounding the world which are ruled by him and him binding sinners in justice. Varuna plays a crucial role in framing your principles, values and beliefs & religiously operating from them.

Despite these deities literally being deities and natives with these nakshatras just being human, we can still see how there can be righteousness expressed through them in many ways. And fighting/advocating for what's right in a sinful society. A lot of advocates I found have other recurring nakshatras such as Uttara/Purva Ashada, Uttara/Purva Bhadrapada, Revati, Hasta, and Ketu nakshatras. And among the list are also Rahu nakshatras or Rahu influence.

Some examples above of important activist figures who fought societal inequities and inhuman laws in history with Rahu nakshatra/prominent Rahu influence.

Endless desire being birthed from dissatisfaction is a theme also found in Ardra. And that is because of Rudra. Rudra was created from between Brahma's eyebrows as a result of his anger which was triggered by his ignorant passion. The Bhagavad-gītā scriptures describe the essence of Rudra in such a way: Krodha (fury/rage) is the product of kāma (desire/lust), which is the result of ignorant and egocentric passion. It is when the desiring is unsatisfied that rage is born. This causes one to become enslaved by their senses, the material world, and their desires. Such themes manifest through Ardra, which forms a powerful axis with Mula. Mula which kills all desire and ego as it recognizes it as the root of all evil. Mula, who is ruled by the deity Nirrti, who is also known as the ferocious Goddess Kali - slayer of men! Kali grants liberation by removing the illusion of the ego. Emphasizing that we are the eternal I AM and not the body. Goddess Kali is a manifestation of Rudra/Shiva. Though, they oppose one another. Both being ferocious, they are still at two opposite ends of the spectrum. Rudra's rage being driven by desire and the ignorant ego, Kali's rage destroying desire and ego. The two deities ruling the two nakshatras which are at opposite axis of each other, being perfectly paired with the representative shadow planets Rahu and Ketu, which is so fitting.

The most perfect media story that represent these respective energies is the Turkish drama called Aşk-ı Memnu. In which the female lead is played by a Mula Moon and the male lead is played by an Ardra Moon (with a Swati Sun). And the Latin telenovela version of it, Pasión Prohibida, in which the female lead is also played by Mula Moon and the male lead is played by an Ardra Moon again!

The male character in this forbidden love story starts to lust after his uncle's newly wife and eventually she ends up desiring him as well. They both give into their desire and start to have a secret affair which leads to them falling for each other. Their sinful/lustful relationship leads them to misery. The male character, being Ardra, ends up feeling wrongful and rejects her when she proposes them to run away together. She even plans on divorcing his uncle in order to be with him, but now he's choosing to run on a false/illusory moral compass "doing the right thing" (yet he's still hiding the truth from his uncle). Her, being Mula, acknowledges they're in love and is willing to expose everything for them to be together (Ketu being unrealistic and irrational). She realizes her attempts at convincing him are futile, and she ends up killing herself on the day of his wedding to another woman and their affair gets exposed to everyone. She did this knowing it will bring him his very own death. He dies too, figuratively. On the finale, both soap operas show how he is left with absolutely nothing in the world. This being the works of Kali through Mula, killing him and draining him of everything. Because it all started with the Ardra character, he initiated the affair and pushed his lustful advances on her. Rudra, desiring and lusting, only creating his own downfall. So perfectly shown in these soap operas.

Now, Rudra can be the destroyer of desires as well. As he creates misery, he can destroy it. He is the Destroyer, and he acts as a healer. Rudra literally means "one who destroys all problems from their roots", which emphasizes the power of self-liberation. Emphasizing the self-power Rudra holds! And just like Vayu was the bringer of unhappiness, he is also the ones who breathes life and happiness into all living things as well. This shows the dualistic nature in Swati and Ardra, and the power these nakshatras holds.

There seems to be an understanding in self-creation and manifestation in all three of the nakshatras. Vayu is the breather of life and happiness, but also the bringer of misery and death. Rudra is the creator and destroyer of illusions. Varuna being the king of the universe. It's very interesting to find manifestation themes in films that have some Rahu and Rahu nakshatras roles playing around them. Such as the film 13 Going On 30.

13-year-old Jenna, played by Christa B. Allen who has Moon conjunct Rahu, wishes on her birthday to be a successful, beautiful, charismatic 30-year-old version of herself.

And her wish comes true as she wakes up as her desired version, played by Ardra Ascendent Jennifer Garner.

And the film 16 Wishes directed by Swati Sun, Peter DeLuise. A teenage girl has created a list of things she wishes to happen on her 16th birthday and everything manifests exactly the way she wanted.

Both stories show the dissatisfaction experienced by the main characters with their manifested desires, which perfectly shows the nature of Rahu. After getting everything they wished for, they still want to go back to the way things used to be before.

Interestingly, the theme of 'trapped in a movie' is something that I found related with Rahu influence. For example, the film The Final Girls is about a young girl, who just lost her mom, getting teleported into a movie starring her mother. The actress playing the young girl is Taissa Farmiga, who has her Moon Rashi Lord in Swati and her Atmakaraka planet in Shatabhisha. And the film is made by Todd Strauss-Schulson who is an Ardra Sun and Swati Moon.

Also, The Truman Show, starring Swati ASC Jim Carrey, who plays a insurance salesman who is oblivious to the fact that his entire life is a TV show watched by the entire world, that everybody around him is an actor — everything around him is a fake simulation.

Then, there these two kdramas, titled "W" and "Extraordinary You". In W, a young woman teleports into a famous web comicbook which was written by her father and meets the main character whom she falls in love with, later realizing that she was the one who created him from a childhood drawing (which her father took inspiration from). He comes to the truth of his nature as a 2D-character and decides to take control of his own destiny from the writer. He is played by Lee Jong-Suk, who is a Shatabhisha Moon. And his love interest who indirectly created him is played by Han Hyo-Joo who is a Shatabhisha Sun.

Then, in Extraordinary You, a high school student realizes on her own that her reality is not real. And she then discovers that she is not only in a comicbook, but she is a background character in which her doomed destiny is decided by the writer. She attempts to change that, wanting to fulfill her desires (Rahu) and dreams of love. She is played by Kim Hye-yoon, who is a Swati Moon. And another character who comes to the realization of the unreality of things (and that he never had a choice in his identity) is played by Lee Jae-wook, who is also a Swati Moon.

Rahu is very much material-world-based, as everything that drives it is purely based on ego and all things of the five senses. It's outwardly chasing, engaging with the world purely on changing it, and attaining desires. Rahu represents the modern-world. Hustle culture, hook-up culture, productivity, transactional relationships, to-do lists, politics, activism etc. All these things that are a part of the human ego's world. It feels real because it's all happening to your ego. But Ketu kills the ego, thus killing the illusions (the world surrounding the ego), and Rahu drives the ego, thus upholding the illusion around it. I mention this very obvious observation as a way to connect all the mentioned films above.

Although it'd be very fitting for Ketu to be the one who awakens you first from the illusions, it is actually Rahu. The films 13 Going On 30 and 16 Wishes showcasing one's attainment of their desires being very unfulfilling and even wanting things to go back to normal - thus appreciating the things you took for granted. It could even go so far as to deciding to walk a spiritual path from all the resulted emptiness from material things. Then that's where Ketu 'welcomes' you.

The very unreality of the world we live in is incredibly Rahuvian, especially the discovery that you were 'never really human' but merely a character. This theme, from a Ketu perspective, suggests that you are Consciousness, and you fooled yourself into believing you were a mere human because of how the world (Rahu) appeared to be so real to your human mind. So "you got lost in the sauce". And the identity you think you are is as unreal as the world, it's all an illusion. Ketu challenges, "If not the body, if not the thoughts, if not the story you've been told, if not the emotions, who am I?" Rahu cannot answer. Rahu can only showcase the unreality of things, such as the Rahu-influenced kdramas I mentioned above; "W" and "Extraordinary You". It is Rahu that causes illusions, and waits for you to break the illusions.

One theme I found interesting and noteworthy which has Rahu/Ketu influence is body swapping. Popular films I found carrying this concept of people's 'souls' switching bodies have an underlying message of understanding someone else by literally walking in their shoes. And also valuing the life you had before, being grateful for what you took for granted, and having a better understanding of other people. The understanding that no one's life, no matter how flashy and stunning it seems, is really perfect or worthy to put on a pedestal. This understanding being mostly showcased in films such as 'The Change-Up' and 'Freaky Friday'.

In Change-Up, two best friends have polarizing lifestyles. One is a busy lawyer who is a responsible father and husband. And the other is an actor who is still a free, bachelor playboy. Both desire each other's lives and a body swap happens, which has them realizing how challenging it is to be each other. Now they want to revert back to their original lives, now valuing what they took for granted. It stars Ryan Reynolds, Swati Moon, and Jason Bateman who has Mars in Swati. In Freaky Friday, a mother and daughter who don't understand each other at all end up body swapping and they learn things they never knew from experiencing each other's lives, which heals their relationship. The film stars Lindsey Lohan who is an Ardra Sun and Jamie Lee Curtis who is Mula ASC.

Then the two films you see on the left are about two pretty teenage girls swapping bodies with unattractive looking, greasy criminals (one a robber, another a murderer). Comedies showing how ludicrous it is for greasy looking, middle-aged, white men to have the soul of a teenage girl, though the movies do show the beautiful bond between friends who can recognize each other even if they were in another body. This likely playing into 7th house and 11th house themes as Hot Chick stars Swati/Libra natives, Rob Schneider & Rachel McAdams. And Freaky starring Shatabhisha/Aquarius natives, Vince Vaughen and Kathryn Newton. (As shown in the visual)

Here are more examples of body swapping movies/tv shows shown above: "Alchemy of Souls (season one)", "Mr Queen", "It's A Boy Girl Thing", "Dating The Enemy", "Secret Garden".

Thank you so much for ending here! Now, onto preparing the next post like this about ketu 🫠 byeeeee.

[magicpotatothoughts]

SVSSS | The absolute GENIUS meanings behind the name Shen Yuan 沈垣

Ok so most of us already know the meaning of SY 'cause it's in the appendix of the official translation books but I was today years old when I realised just how much meaning MXTX embedded into this name. *spoilers ahead*

Level 1 Meta

Official translation of the word Yuan垣 means wall. But not just any wall, a wall that surrounds something else. It would be specifically used to describe city wall 城垣 or garden fence 花垣 would use this character. This is incredibly fitting for Shen Yuan because his whole story arc is his battle between his logical conscience for survival and his compassionate gut instinct to protect LBH, in other words, to surround and to shield LBH from harm. But this wall of protection functioned against Bingqiu psychologically because SY kept on making decisions without talking to LBH and decided a lot of things on his own. SVSSS is a novel about achieving that balance, to allow both partners to take agency and face life side by side.

Level 2 Meta

Normally, surnames don't have any meaning. Shen沈 is largely used as a name for things/people buttttttt it can also mean liquid or to pour. Guess what, Luo Binghe 洛冰河 means Luo frozen river. So it could be interpreted that Shen Yuan's entire job in the novel is to make LBH achieve his final crybaby form by getting the frozen river Luo to melt, to "pour".

Also, SY made himself melt as well in a way, his internalized homophobia potential toxic masculinity as well as his need to maintain a cool composure were also things he needed to overcome. We finally see him cry for real in the 3rd book, right after LBH scolds him out of anger and worry. Our protagonist learns to break his own walls down and show emotionally vulnerable parts of himself to LBH.

Level 3 Meta

Chinese characters are made up of radicals, meaning more complicated looking characters are made up of simpler characters (radicals) that give clues to their meaning and pronunciation.

Shen沈 is made up of the radicals:

氵 [ shuǐ ] water 💦

冘 [ yín ] can mean to move on OR doubtful of something/someone

The water radical氵💦 occurs in all three characters in Luo Binghe 洛冰河. This can mean that Shen has influence on Luo Binghe's development and overall life. It also reaffirms their compatibility as as couple. I mean let’s be honest, SQQ cries inwardly and LBH cries outwardly, they are both crybabies.

yín冘 perfect describes the base functionality of SY's character; he has a strong survival instinct but is also extremely doubtful of everyone's intentions, especially LBH's.

Yuan垣 is made up of the radicals:

土 [ tǔ ] soil, earth; items made of earth 🌎

亘 [ gèn ] to extend across (dimension/space), through; from 🚀

I find it so fucking funny that MXTX took the tǔ土 soil radical seriously and literally just had SY zombie-himself out of the dirt after 5 years. But it's also really poetic that it once again goes perfectly with LBH's name; the river and earth go hand-in-hand. no wonder LBH asked for Shizun's hand in marriage. 😳😳😳

gèn亘 perfectly describes SY as a transmigrator, someone who travelled across dimension and space. But also SY is really the ultimate sightseer of SVSSS, casually crossing between the human realm and demon realm while also going on road trips with SQH. It's honestly so fucking mint. But I'm here to point out to you how Xin Mo 心魔 LBH's sword (heart demon) is how LBH travels across dimension/space for the majority of the book.

Ultimately, Yuan垣 highlights the importance of finding a home in the people you love. Bingqiu both enjoy that sightseeing lifestyle but the book constantly has important relationship developments, smexy times and domestic Bingqiu set in the Bamboo House. Ultimately, no matter how far you travel, run or chase, you cannot get away from your problems. You need to extend and make effort in understanding and communicating with your SO 🚀 and work on feeling grounded 🌎 in your relationship together.

MXTX you freaking genius I-

[shigure]

thoughts on "writing oberon"

i don't think oberon is compelled to lie about everything intrinsically. if you ask him coffee or tea he can pick one. if you ask him what color the sky is he can tell you blue. if you ask him who won the superbowl, he's not googling it just to make sure he gets it wrong.

vocabulary for this post

vortigern: abyssal worm that destroys and loathes

faerie king: who he pretends to be

oberon: both/neither, just the fastest way to refer to the unit as a thinking being/practical reality

the nature of his lies comes from his existence as a walking contradiction. the faerie king is perfectly suited to faerie britain on the surface - he's friendly and silly and popular, and he enjoys playing pranks and entertaining people. he's never experienced any major loss like murian has, and he's as loyal to his wife as aurora is to melusine. the fairie king as presented by shakespeare doesn't have anything substantial going on between his ears. || the destroyer of faerie britain has always been disgusted by every part of it. he's keenly aware of how it was made; he's the will of britain trying to kill itself rather than limping along as this colossal parody propped up by moronic culture thieves. and just like the place itself, he's being paraded about as some kind of clown - hell, a cheater to boot. he's a walking insult to his own dignity, and he will only feel peace when it's all been blown to pieces.

this of course creates his cynicism. his experiences on the surface befriending the welsh forest faeries allowed him to feel real love for parts of this place, which heightened his disgust for all of it. surely he lamented in an irreconcilable way when barghest, the monster he created, [destroyed part of britain] and killed the friends he had made. and as his perspective becomes more disjointed in a way that can be understood, it all becomes even shakier when you add in that the faerie king is inherently unreliable, frankly just insubstantial - because any strong emotions the faerie king expresses are written to be ploys and no more, the being that is oberon-vortigern cannot voice sadness or anger, lest they be taken for the faerie king's crocodile tears. forget feeling responsible and conflicted, he can't even grieve because his strongest emotions are labelled tricks as soon as he shows them.

-

beyond that, it's really important to remember that oberon is an actor. he describes "the faerie king" as a character many times (titania too!), but you and he are not side characters - he calls the two of you spectators, i.e. not actively serving as characters at all. when he is participating, he plays a role. when he is with you, even though he as a person is still tricking you, he's not going out of his way to act like a silly faerie king and entertain you. it might be easier to understand this if you think about what he was pretending to be for you: a PHH faerie fitting in as a lostworld faerie. he's undercover, and even though the guy you talk to is still a faerie king, he's here with a more serious mission that differs from his public face.

him being an actor is crucial for how he was summoned in the first place. vortigern is a writhing mass of hatred for what britain has become. it can't love britain. it can't belong in britain. things that don't belong in faerie britain, like holmes and nemo, are weakened there. if it's going to enter britain, it needs a body that won't hate britain. it will hire itself as an actor to play "the faerie king," and read its lines dutifully. this isn't something vortigern manifested before doing and decided upon, it's something that had to happen as a premise of the summoning itself, to allow vortigern to manifest at all. for the duration of oberon's existence, from summoning til nonexistence, he is there as an actor. that includes while he's being vortigern. look at vortigern's sprite: do you see where his bug feet and bug hand connect to his body? not clearly, no! hell, his legs actually black out so we can't see whether the pants cover insect legs or turn into props. they appear to be melded to his clothes, but those aren't gloves and shoes. they're connected to his body, but they're something as removable as an actor's prosthetic.

all that is to say, [vortigern] [is an actor playing] [oberon] is a statement without removable parts. all that can happen is shifting the order into [oberon] [is an actor playing] [vortigern]. and just like the faerie king's love for the welsh forest faeries was just lines read off a script by vortigern, vortigern's vitriolic disgust for those same faeries is just lines read off a script by oberon. if the "actor" part was optional, vortigern's body would be a hell of a lot more fucked up.

-

i've previously likened oberon to an experience i have when i'm discussing something i dearly love with people who also love it, but i mention something i really hate about it. for me, this happens because i get nervous, but i end up panicking and trying to reassure my friends that i really do like the thing in question. so, i end up walking away feeling dissatisfied: i either didn't properly convey my unhappiness with That One Thing, or i did a disservice in expressing how much i love the overall product. when this happens, i feel i haven't done justice to myself.

i don't think oberon has self confidence issues (though obviously he does hate himself), so he's not going through it the way i am. but it's also true that when he's talking about things that really count, nothing he says can do justice to the multifaceted emotions he has about things. furthermore, the automatic devaluing of his most emphatic statements that comes from him being the faerie king is incredibly disheartening.

his options are either be noncommittal and insubstantial, or be sarcastic and dismissive. he's black and white in one, but not grey, instead a checkerboard. he's the ultimate "and" statement. to force an opinion out of him is to pin him to one side, but since the other side isn't less true, whatever he says becomes false. if you use a command spell to make him only speak the whole truth, he will fall silent.

i think that as you spend more time with him, a lot can be better conveyed without words. i think that if you make it clear you understand and believe the part of him that despises you, you can experience the equal part of him that is impressed by and maybe even grateful to you. i don't think it's impossible to understand him, and someone who understands him and still wants him is something he considers an unattainable dream.

[neet-elite]

Divine Intervention — (SDV) Elliott

Pairing: Elliott / F!Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 5,094 Warnings: Exhibitionism, public, handjob, miscommunication, love confession Synopsis: Between your pouting and huffing, he briefly wonders just how he found himself in such an unfortunate predicament. The way you look at him alone tells him that he’s done something wrong, but it’d be more upsetting to him if you weren’t so pretty while sulking.

Therein lies the main issue.

A/N: I haven't written for Elliott in over a year so please excuse any OOC moments! There's just something about put together men losing control that gets to me yknow? Happy new year Elliott Girlies :D!!

pinglist: @beet-roots / @birdielouwho / check my pinned to see how to get added!

Between your pouting and huffing, he briefly wonders just how he found himself in such an unfortunate predicament. The way you look at him alone tells him that he’s done something wrong, but it’d be more upsetting to him if you weren’t so pretty while sulking.

Therein lies the main issue.

For all intents and purposes, today is a good day. The sun is shining, you had accepted his invitation to take an afternoon walk together, and he was so sure that his efforts in courting you were bearing fruit. Thankfully, you had even taken his hand when he’d offered it to you; a grace he refuses to take lightly even when you’re scolding him. You were smiling, talking away about your life on the farm and such, and he was happy enough to listen to your sweet voice by your side like he usually does. A mimicked smile refused to leave his own face despite the obvious burn in his cheeks, lightly squeezing at your hand to remind you that he was still there. He was still listening. And, that he was enjoying spending his time with you. In his mind, there’s no other way to describe the afternoon as anything other than romantic.

And yet still, you scowl at him now. It truly concerns him how he finds you just so cute even when upset, like some immature schoolboy, but the sweat on his brow and the shake in his fingers urge him to console you instead of indulging in his perversion. Because it’s not anger that troubles you, but rather… Feelings of inadequacy, he’s sure. Your frown coils tight around his heart and conveys failure on his part. And he certainly can’t have that continue, not when you’ve provided him such a pleasant day! What a silly thought, he thinks, for you to think anything other than highly of yourself.

And perhaps more importantly: because you’re completely wrong.

“I mean, is it because I’m not pretty enough?”

He instinctively winces at your words, a full body recoil at the fact that you’d even think of such falsehoods, let alone believe them enough to express them verbally. The sentiment rings in his ears, repeated over and over again as he stops and stares at you dumbfounded. Not pretty enough. And said with such hurt too, as if the thought itself wounded you. He can’t help but blame himself, mentally scolding for letting this issue go unnoticed. Immediate heartache ails him most, a tightness in his chest that he can’t shake due to the thought that he made you feel that way, in spite of the work and effort he’s put into courting you. A true gentleman never leaves a lady feeling so worthless, and so he’s quick to force himself into action. That, and because if he doesn’t do something about the way you’re staring at him so cutely right now, then he’s liable to act out.

“What?” he asks stupidly, because for once he’s at a loss for words. A million thoughts rushing through his mind of how best to console you, to make you see the truth. You’d think for a writer he would be better with his words, carefully plucked from his mind to suit each occasion perfectly, but for a moment he appears stunned. Taken aback at the complete carelessness he’s apparently treated you with; and how he wants more than anything to make you feel better. You deserve only the best. “It’s— No. Absolutely not. I won’t have you saying such nasty comments about yourself.”

“Well? Is it true? Because you’ve neither confirmed nor denied—”

“Of course that isn’t the case!” he sighs heavily into his words, tone coming out all wrong and rushed in an effort to make you see the error of your thoughts, when what you actually deserve is the utmost kindness. The annoyance he feels about himself causes him to pinch at the bridge of his nose for a breather to calm down, you shouldn’t have to deal with his misgivings.

Inhale, exhale. No, that’s not the case at all. “Far from it, actually,” he elaborates, taking both your hands in his own for selfish stability and letting out a another shaky breath. It’s embarrassing, truthfully. The real reason behind why he’s taken so long to court you, why he’s still stuck in the hand holding stage; and he’d rather not fully elaborate in fear of scaring you off… But still he has to offer you some half-truths. Something to reassure your silly mind. It’s the least he could do. “You’re perhaps the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” He smiles, all warm and quiet. “I mean it.”

He tries his best to convey sincerity through his expression and tone of voice, but his efforts crumple the moment you look away from him. He thinks his heart actually falls when you sigh before speaking, too.

“I just— I thought we’d be further along by now, you know?” you pout, and he has to hold his breath to keep him from acting out.

Oh how he knows, however. How he wants to be further along in his relationship with you too; more than anything, really! But that’s exactly his issue. He wants. He yearns for far too much, to a downright disturbing degree, and it’s rather unbecoming of him, wouldn’t you agree?

Behind the shade of the trees and in the secrecy of the forest he levels with you, just a little. He doesn’t have the right words to appropriately describe his troubles honestly, and in fact he can’t. Not fully, for if he did then surely you’d turn away from him, and his heart hurts at even the thought. “Darling…” he sighs, soft and full of adoration, his hair obscuring you from his vision for just a moment before he tucks it behind an ear. Even during this tense exchange, he can’t help but to romanticise you, unable to view you as anything other than absolute perfection. He wants to help you see that too. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” he starts, and it’s genuine. Shown through the tender touch of his hand in your own, the way he stares down at you so lovingly. It’s the honest truth, or so he tells himself, swallowing the thick lump of half before speaking again. “However, I believe there may be something wrong with me.” He admits, and though that much is true, a pang of guilt still worms its way to his tummy as he intimately knows just how rotten he is deep down.

And he thinks you might know too from the confused look you adopt, one so cute that he wants to squeeze your hand tighter. Tighter still than his usual reassuring squeeze, like he simply cannot handle just how much love he holds for you that he has to edge on harm just to express himself thoroughly. But he refrains, just like how he always does, except this time it’s because he’s far too focused on the bite of your lip, and how he wants more than anything to kiss it better. The things you do to him, and your oblivious nature; he’s not quite sure how long he can keep this act up in spite of how hard he’s trying for you.

You hold his hand tighter instead and his body aches to relieve you of your worries, so much so that just watching you pout might be enough to convince him to spill his secrets, the ones he’s held close to his chest all this time. “What do you mean, Elly?” You ask so innocently that it deepens the conflict within him, and the affectionate pet name you’ve taken to calling him might be the final nail in the coffin of his resolve. You’re right, though you don’t know it. You deserve the whole truth, no matter how embarrassing it is for him to divulge. It’s the least he can offer you after such patience you’ve expressed in waiting for him. It’s silly how easily he falls for you, and then he thinks that this should be evidence enough of how wrong you are. But, the lady asks, and she shall receive an adequate response.

He takes a slow swallow and exhales steadily. He never wanted to admit such mortifying details to you ever, content with keeping his boyish nature tucked in his heart forever. But deep down in the pit of his stomach he always knew it’d eventually come to this; the lack of control he has regarding you. More than keeping his character intact, he cares about you and your comfort. And when he takes a selfless moment to think about it from your point of view he easily decides, because anything to make you happier is what he’d like to aim for; for the rest of his life.

“Okay.” He says peacefully, already accepting of his fate because the outcome is (hopefully) that you feel better. What’s a little embarrassment for a good lady, right? “Okay, I’ll tell you.” He’s continues, but he’s stalling, because despite his innocuous want to make you feel as wanted as he surely needs you, it’s difficult to openly admit to such degenerate behaviour as per his affliction. His frustration must be present on his face, because the back of your hand raises against his warming cheek to soothe, a light balm to his otherwise burning body. His burdened mind is unable to distinguish whether the source of his burns are self inflicted or because he loves you so much; not that it matters in the end, because both facts are true, and it’s what makes this discussion so difficult for him to begin with. He’d always like to be honest with you, no matter the topic, of course! But first and foremost he’d like to be a gentleman, and treat you with kindness. Sometimes kindness requires lying, right?

“Please.” You utter softly, and it’s only then that he realises he’s been making you wait. How unbecoming of him.

He lets go of your hand and takes a step back to properly regard you, hoping to make up for his shortcomings thus far. Though, he instantly regrets this decision as he sees the immediate hurt on your face, and all your expression does is urge him to go faster, spill the secret, forget the consequences! So, in a rush, he forces the words out his mouth. For better or for worse, you so easily convince him to forget his surroundings.

“I have an issue. An embarrassing one, at that…” He trails off into an awkward laugh, promptly followed by a clearing of his throat when he notices you just staring back at him. “Well, see— The problem I have is… It’s one of a certain… Vulgar nature, shall we say…”

He doesn’t dare look at you as the words fly out his mouth, taking to chewing on his bottom lip instead of gathering the courage to face you after his deplorable admittance. But the conflict within him tightens around his heart, and he finds himself struggling to deny you any longer.

The wide eyes that greet him as he looks up at you almost cause him to stop babbling, but he’s too deep now to go back. He’ll just have to continue his speech staring at his feet, cheeks red hot in the face of your understandable reaction. “Truth be told, I like you. Really like you. Almost unbearably so, if I’m honest.” Another bout of laughter spills from his bitten lips as he looks to the side, tension building in his body as anxiety takes hold of his lungs, making it harder for him to breathe. “And, well… I mean that in every respect. Not just… Romantically.”

It’s difficult to get the words out due to the amount of fear he feels in confessing such perverted thoughts to you, but he hammers on. It’s what you’ve asked for, and he’d like to give you everything. Rather than dancing around the subject, he figures he might as well offer you the whole truth now, it’s basically out already. “And, well, quite frankly, it’s difficult for me to be around you and to not want to take you where you stand—no matter where we are—which is why I’ve kept distance between us, love. I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable…”

Silence follows, and he can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not.

However, finally. Phew. His dirty little secret is now out in the open. He sighs into the relief and slowly meets your gaze again, hoping to find comfort in the form of your pretty smile, though what an immediate mistake that was. The soft expression of acceptance you wear warms his heart, and unfortunately, causes his dress pants to tighten too. A prime example of why he’s taken so long to court you, and he can’t help but catch the way your gaze drops ever so briefly. Awful, right?

“Elliott…” you match his sigh, taking a step forward to pull him into a gentle embrace by the trees, and he’s got no time to react beyond accommodating you. By all accounts he’s elated to have you respond so kindly to his perversion, could never have imagined a better response than your loving hug that he cautiously returns. But when his cock is slowly growing against your tummy, he’s only filled with more shame. Torn between pulling you closer to satisfy his selfish wants, and pushing you away to keep his gentleman appearance in check. You take the thinking out of the equation for him.

“It’s okay, I promise. I want you like that too.”

And oh how easily you admit that which he was so ashamed of, guilt ridden arms quickly wrapping around your back to pin you nice and snug against his body naturally, a physical representation of thanks. It’s crude for all the wrong reasons; not because his cock is quickly hardening against you and leaking all over his dress pants at just the thought of taking you, but because of how much love he feels radiating from your touch. The little reassuring pats against his shoulder, the way you gently move his hair from his face to get a better look at him, all the way down to the chaste—not for a lack of time, but of patience—kiss against his cheek. He needn’t have worried at all, had he?

In return, he strokes your hair. An action far too kind for the current setting, but he quickly learns that that’s what he likes about it. “Apologies, I’ve been rather inconsiderate,” he offers you, placing a similar kiss to your forehead. Soft and tender, just like you, an attempt to copy what he loves about you, and by extension: to reassure. “You see, it’s not a failing on your part. Never was, love.”

He feels you nuzzle into him in response and it feels like home, his arms wrapped loosely around your back, keeping you close enough to him for his chin to rest atop your head. You acceptance has warmed him up to the idea of honesty, actual honesty, and he takes the opportunity to indulge for your own sake. “I just cant help the abundance of inappropriate thoughts when I’m around you.”

You laugh, a light airy sound that forces a smile on his face in spite of the sheer embarrassment he’s enduring for you. He intrinsically knows it isn’t a berating laugh, but one of understanding. “Would you hate me if I said same?” you speak against his chest, and his heart hammers against your cheek.

Now it’s his turn to laugh, the slight jostling around together serving as a stark reminder of his lust, of which he does his best to ignore, but it’s growing increasingly difficult. And in size. “Would you hate me if I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind?”

This is what he loves. The small moments shared together in secrecy, privately doting and adoring on each other as if no one else existed in the world. It is also, quite shamefully, the source of his unbefitting ruminations. Several thoughts flit across his mind as you remain in his arms, none of which he has the strength to say out loud. The things he thinks to himself late at night, disgraceful fist wrapped around his cock early in the morning. He wants to drag his thumb across your lower lip and watch them part, move his thumb up to your tongue for him to play with while you pant against him. Maybe even grope at your chest until you beg for him to take you home. Also, he’d like to—

“Elliott?” You giggle, and he suddenly can’t remember what he was doing before now, but your pretty smile has him smitten regardless. He hums down at you in reply, still half daydreaming about all the newly uncontained thoughts, until you kindly clue him in. “You’re grinding against me.”

He’d be more panicked if not for the sultry tone your voice adopts, but still he stutters an apology out. It’s the right thing to do, even he can tell that through his lust addled mind. “Oh— S-Sorry, I didn’t realise I—”

“It’s okay, do you need some help?”

It’s difficult not to curse under the weight of your unbridled acceptance, your kind offer of help going straight to his cock as he soon considers his surroundings. It’s utterly embarrassing that he’s this easy for you, the mere thought of being intimate with you riling him up enough to be rock hard against you. “Out here?” he takes to whispering, though he’s not sure why. He hasn’t exactly hid his actions thus far from prying eyes, but the thought of having you be intimate with him in such an obscene way causes his mouth to dry. “Really, no, it’s okay. I can deal with this later—”

“Let me rephrase that. Let me help you, please?”

And what kind of a gentleman would he be if he were to deny such a pretty girls request?

It was foolish of him to ever worry about your lack of embrace for his more vulgar wants. Not once have you shown him any hint that you wouldn’t like this part of him, but rather he selfishly wants to treat you with so much care that it happened to damage you instead. Far be it for him not to learn, and right now he understands that if he were to decline you once again today would all be for nought. Not that he doesn’t want your help in the middle of a secluded forest, only that he’s happy that you want it too. He nods.

“And what do you have in mind, dear?” he lets you take the lead, fully entrusting himself to you to know the best course of action. It’s a little selfish, not only because he still cares deeply for not overstepping any boundaries, but also because he wants. Needs to give himself up like this as a show of devotion, because if left to his own devices then he’d have no self control. He wants it all, and here you are offering it up to him on a silver platter. It’s dangerous, and not just because of the open setting.

Part of him also wants to lean into the shameless behaviour you’re currently exhibiting too, present in the way your hand inches down his chest, lightly tickling down his tummy until you land on his very obviously hard cock. He wants to rock his hips into your touch, wrap an arm around your neck and tug you up into a heated kiss. But the other part of him begs to wait. Hold off and test the waters a little before revealing his true nature, and besides, it’s sexy getting to see you take the lead like this. Even if his head feels dizzy from the sudden action from relative nothing.

Instead, he merely cups your cheek. Softly stroking his thumb over it while you busy yourself with his pants. Never before has he been so excited to hear the unzip of his pants as he is now, and he smiles into the hooded gaze you offer him. “Be patient.” You remind him, and he has no issue with following that order; seeing as all he’s expressed is patience thus far. He has an idea of what you’d like to do anyway, given how your fingers gently pet at his clothed  tip, playing with the soaked through precum of his underwear as you have him pinned against a tree. It’s his fault for falling back there in the hug, to be fair. And, he can’t deny the twitch of his cock when you place a hand beside him for stability, effectively locking him in place before you. It’s hot being at your mercy, and he doesn’t think a first time could go better than this.

And patient he is, allowing you to have your fun playing with him without so much as a sigh. Really, it’s because he’s too focused on his thoughts, about just how much he simply adores the sight of you with your palm against his tip, determined not to fuck his hips forward in a searching for more. If he had his way, he’d have you stripped already. And though he technically has your blessing, he wouldn’t want to come across as some brute unable to keep his composure. No, for now, he exerts some more patience. Just like you asked. And he gets rewarded with your little fist wrapped around the base of his still clothed cock, allowing a shaky breath to escape his lips that immediately heats his face up.

He goes to hide his embarrassment by way of covering his face from view, but you so tenderly drag his arm back down to his side while still holding his cock. “Don’t hide, I’ve been waiting so long for this…” you beg, and he wishes you could understand just how much he needs you right now, because if you did, then you surely wouldn’t be tempting him this much. Precum continues to leak out and stain his underwear full of evidence that he wants you, dripping down his length as you give him an experimental tug. Maybe now you understand just how great his need is, because he bends almost completely over you from how good it feels to have your hands on him like this, how completely in love he is with you and the tender way you touch him, fist tight but oh so full of love. It’s difficult for him to even keep looking at you too, how pretty you are when in control like this, doing his best to keep a loving gaze on you but God it’s so hard; so troublesome when you look so cute while doing something so dirty, he can hardly keep up.

It’s all going to his head too, the public setting fresh in his mind as a gust of spring wind causes him to shiver. It doesn’t stop his cock from throbbing though, the warmth of your hand dipping under the waistband of his underwear to access his bare cock warms him enough. Dizzy with desire, he lets out a greedy groan.

“Careful.” He warns you, not sure what of, only that he already feels close to breaking point with his degeneracy and needs to let you know.

And all you give him is a sly smirk in return, pulling his underwear down to his knees before returning your attention to his cock.

Now that he’s practically laid bare before you, his worries seem as far away as possible. Literally forgotten about thanks to your soft touch, the glide of your fist up and down his ever needy cock with such ease due to the precum you’ve already coaxed out of him. Low moans of appreciation rumble in his chest, face scrunched up in an attempt to really lean into and feel how nice it is to finally have your hands on him. Just like you, he’s been biding his time. Perhaps even more so if he’s honest with himself, waiting to be able to feel you just like this. And it’s even better than he could imagine, his hips jutting forward just a little every time your thumb reaches his tip, every squeeze of your hand persuading more slick to bead out. For what he lacks in verbal communication, you make up for with your hands—as he so often forgets is conversational, too—in the form of a confession.

“I love you.” He suddenly gasps out, lost in his own thoughts as you fist his cock, the jerking motion clouding his judgement and causing him to spill even more secrets for you. He doesn’t even register the seriousness of his words until you say it back to him, all shy and quiet, but an unmistakable I love you too plays over again and again in his mind. In the haze your hands have him under, he can’t remember if he’s said it to you before; he must have in spite of his attempts to hold back, but to hear you return his affections so readily like that while getting him off where he stands proves to be a bit too much for him to handle. Proven by the way his cock twitches harsher in your hand, pulsing against your fingertips with great need for you as a sloppy sound fills the forest. Every pump of your fist causes his eyes to roll further back in his head, his back arching off the tree ever so slightly in an effort to feel more of you, to have more of his cock wrapped around your tight fist. It’s disgusting, stupidly obscene to have you jerk him off in the middle of the day, in the middle of the forest; and he regrets just how much he loves it. How it has his cock aching for you, red hot and leaking all over your knuckles as a whimper escapes him.

The sound is embarrassing and causes his hips to stutter into you, the little laughter you let out at his enjoyment only serving to turn him on some more, making him whine into your touch. He opts to bite on his knuckles to keep himself quiet enough, and he assumes you understand that the setting disallows him from voicing too much of his appreciation, and that he’s just as upset about it as your pout conveys. Because if he had his way, then he’d be doting till the sun came up about the sight before him, all sobs and begs included. Until you realised just how much he truly loves and adores you, and how you needn’t second guess yourself ever again. Make you feel as pretty as he thinks you are, wrapping a possessive arm around your waist to keep you as close as humanly possible to him as you get him off so sweetly, the face of innocence with his cock in your hand.

Your hum immediately draws his attention out of his self spoiling thoughts, but he struggles to focus on you fully. Vision glazed over with lust, jaw tight and teeth gritted. “You’re so pretty, Elliott.” You whisper, and there’s just something about being so soft and intimate in public that gets to him, y’know? Like, has him unable to stop himself from wrapping a hand tight around your wrist, the other remaining at the small of your back to give him more leverage to hump into. The tender nature of your actions causing him to dive deeper into his degeneracy, kind words matched with curses under his breath, weighty thrusts into your squeezing fist that has him gasping before you. It’s too much—

“I’m close—” he all but pants into the air, his body bent over you as his hips fuck into whatever they can, mostly your hand. It’s so wet and sloppy, so completely opposite to his usual appearance that he has no choice but to continue, biting down on his lip only to swallow the egregiously loud moans that want to escape, that want to praise you for making him feel so good with relatively little.

“It’s okay—” is all you manage to get out before he’s spilling, shooting his load and inadvertently staining your surely precious clothing, but he hasn’t the mind to apologise for it right now. Not as you continue to milk him through his orgasm, allow him to bury his face into your neck to gently nip at and hide his groans into. You have him shaking, trembling in your slowly loosening grip as the remainder of cum dribbles out of him, down onto the dirt below, and he heaves.

Big deep breaths, like he can’t believe what’s just happened, head woozy with a mix of things; but mostly love. So much love for you and your acceptance, and hope. “I—” He stops, having to still catch his breath after feeling so good, laughing lightly into the feeling of your barely there tugs, wincing when you eventually let go of his cock and clean yourself up as best as possible. He sends you an apologetic smile. “I hope you understand, now.” He finally gets out, sighing loudly and straightening his back. “Understand that it was never about you, love.”

“I think I get it now.” You smirk, and he too understands the hidden layer to your words. Grasped by excitement at the implication, like Pandora's box. Now you know his secret, and there’s no point in hiding any longer. He’s already looking forward to expressing this side of him again. “Thank you for telling me.”

He nods, returning back to his more gentleman like attitude, as opposed to the fiend you just saw. It takes him only a moment to tuck his cock back in, straightening out his outfit once more and clearing his throat when you’re seemingly sorted too.

“Shall we continue, then?” he asks abruptly, stretching his hand out for you to take, and he’s happy that you do so immediately; the same one that was just on his cock. He makes a note to remember this detail when he touches himself to the thought of today later tonight.

“I’d like that.” You smile up at him, and after taking a few steps forward together he bends down to whisper sweetly in your ear:

“Let’s find somewhere I can help you.”

[cowboyfromh3ll]

Heyyy there💖 First off i’d just like to say how obsessed i am with your fics🥹 they are perfect and you really nail the characters perfectly so here’s my request if you don’t mind:

Could i request an angsty fic with Arthur where he and the reader used to be together when they were teenagers and they joined the gang together but the reader left after a few years because she has such an innocent personality (kind of like Mary-Beth) and she just didn’t want to live in the gang with criminals so when she leaves she breaks Arthur’s heart. But they stumble into each other in Valentine (where she works as a waitress) when Arthur, Javier, Charles and Bill go to the saloon. At first their interaction goes very good until that fight breaks out where Arthur beats Tommy, after that the reader is in tears because she hates violence so she storms off behind the saloon but Arthur follows her and it’s there where they start arguing and throwing insults where the reader says that she left cause she didn’t wanna be associated with criminals so Arthur calls her naive and is extra mean to her because he can’t hold all his built up anger and judgment towards her decision to leave him anymore. When he returns to camp that night he can’t stop thinking about their heated interaction so he returns to Valentine to find her and apologise for his rough words.

Sorry for this extra long request but i just love how perfect and detailed your fics are so i knew you would be the best to turn to for this request😊🫶🏻

All We Ever Wanted Was Everything

(Arthur Morgan x Ex!Fem!Reader Angst/Fluff)

No smut sorry didn't feel like adding it, also thank u so much ur compliments mean so much to me 😭

Warnings: arguing, depictions of violence, blood

Intimacy is the art of licking wounds. And the way Arthur loved was akin to the way a dog nurses an open wound, laving tongue and bared teeth and all. The truth was, Arthur longed to be loved so much that it made him sick. The smallest gesture of affection would bring a lump to his throat, and when he would inevitably fall into his grave, it would seep with all the longing he’s ever done. But like a dog, he dangles on his leash; and his need grows teeth. There are teeth marks on everything Arthur has ever loved.

Valentine was bleak, but it still maintained that hustle and bustle of a well-oiled machine. The town saw the daily passage of horse drawn carriages and hard working folks. Though everyone seemed to be there unwillingly, as though they had nowhere else to go; as though this was the only option they had. Such was the case for Arthur. He found himself left with no choice but to acquaint himself with the people of Valentine as the gang moved further east. The main road down Valentine had taken on the pungent weight of horse manure and wet earth. Arthur’s heavy leather boots stomped through mud, leaving deep, smeared imprints that proved he had been there. They traced him all the way towards the saloon, where he so ungracefully tracked more mud up the wooden steps and inside the establishment. He heard Javier’s voice call out distantly from inside.

He pushed open the dusty wooden doors of the saloon, the hinges groaning and squeaking as it let in another customer (it seemed even the furniture was equally as weary as the townspeople). The poignant scent of sweat, body odor, and what could otherwise simply be described as testosterone hung lowly amidst herds of inebriated men. The low hum of chatter and the lively playing of piano was nearly drowned out by Javier’s obnoxious hollering. He eyed the ox skull hanging decoratively on the wooden pillar ahead of him, as well as the dull, peeling wallpaper. The place was kempt, but just barely. Similar to the town outside, with folks just as tired and hard working coming through here. He approached Javier and Charles at the bar, who were accompanied by two women. Even with their backs turned to him, Arthur could tell they were escorts. With one of them having an off the shoulder blouse, a beguiling attempt at appearing more enticing; her burnt orange hair tied lowly into a bun that rested just above a black choker. Her counterpart was of a darker complexion, and she sported a floral top with a singular black braid cascading down her right shoulder; they both wore long purple skirts. Arthur sneered. ‘Unbelievable’ he thought to himself.

“Oh, Arthur!” Javier looked surprised to see him, his enthusiasm suggesting ulterior motives. Javier was not yet reeling drunk, but he was working on it (Arthur could tell the moment he saw the group raising shots together when he walked in).

“Arthur, Arthur, come here, come here, come over here” Javier pulled Arthur in by his shoulder, the rest of the group turning to face him. Wordlessly, he looked at Charles and gave him a nod of acknowledgement.

“I want you to meet our new friends.” Javier added.

Arthur looked utterly unimpressed by Charles and Javier’s ‘friends’. Arthur stood to the side, eyeing the women up and down, the ginger one busty, exhibiting her cleavage almost proudly. He could tell the two men were here for a lay. Though perhaps, he supposed they were fulfilling their duty of acquainting themselves with the townspeople after all.

“Pleased to meet you.” Arthur greeted flatly, nodding his head.

“Well ain't you just the tough as teak mountain man.” One of the women teased coyly.

“Oh, you be quiet, Anastasia! Anyone can tell this one is a pussy cat!” The other one added.

Javier seemed to butt in overzealously.

“Exactly, yes he’s a pussy…cat. Ain't that so Arthur?” Javier seemed entranced by these women, his judgement clouded by lust. Arthur thought it only bothersome. Charles said nothing the whole time, but Arthur knew he was just as enraptured as Javier was; spanning one of his hands behind one of the women's backs.

“Whatever you say.” Arthur murmured. “How much you cost anyway?”

The women looked at him scornfully.

“Well ain’t that a nice way to talk to a lady?” One of them said sarcastically. Javier and Charles looked on awkwardly, unsure of how to aid the situation.

“Oh, I didn’t know I was talking to a lady.” Arthur put emphasis on lady, even stepping forward to punctuate his sarcasm. That seemed to be the last straw, as the two women excused themselves and walked elsewhere, their unwillingness to stick around any longer suggesting that years in their business had diminished their tolerance for such derision. Javier and Charles looked on in disappointment, watching as the objects of their desires made themselves scarce.

“Well, I must say, you got a fine way with the women amigo…” Javier sighed in defeat, retreating back to the bar and leaning his elbows on the counter.

“Yeah, a regular and dandy charmer.” Arthur humored. He picked up one of the abandoned shots of whisky on the counter, throwing back the liquid and letting it simmer its way down his gullet. He cleared his throat, not expecting it to be quite so potent. Valentine's saloon didn’t feel quite as dismal as Arthur had expected, despite its appearance. Valentine had its fair share of shady gray alleyways and sordid, dodgy customers ducking in and out of low dark doorways, but the bar seemed lively enough.

“Is there anything else I can get you boys?” A strangely familiar voice called out. It was soft, but very sharp. It cut through Arthur’s tedious judgment like a serrated knife through butter. Pleasantly easy, but jarring. Arthur looked up, blinking away disbelief, as he beheld what he thought might’ve been a mirage in the middle of this stalemate of a town.

Arthur’s eyes squinted as he studied your face, noting with fondness the familiar way your eyes looked at him with a deep seated compassion. Your hair seemed to float around you almost angelically, the wispy ends of your hair illuminated by the gentle lighting coming in from the saloon windows— making it appear as though you were materializing from a dream. But when the hardness of your silhouette came into focus, you proved to be very real. Your hands maintained the same gentleness they had years ago. Your skin had matured wonderfully into a sophisticated womanhood. You had matured wonderfully. Arthur could still see teeth marks all over you.

“(Name)?” Arthur whispered. He watched the way your face hardened with realization before melting into a warm smile.

“Arthur?” You breathed, tightening your fists and digging your nails into your palm as if it would wake you up from this dream-like sequence. Charles and Javier looked at each other knowingly, a silent agreement between the two of them to move away from the obviously intimate scene. Arthur barely took notice of their absence; he was too entranced by the sight before him.

“Oh my god…” Your disbelief turned into happiness, your gasps turning into airy laughs. “How long has it been?” You exclaimed, becoming suddenly very excited. Part of you wanted to jump over the counter and pat Arthur down, unable to fathom that this was really him. Out of some sort of second instinct, you placed your hand over his, as if touching him would ground you in reality. He flinched, but he did not move his hand away, rather, he felt a sprinkling of butterflies in his stomach. Unlike yours, his hands had a new roughness to them, decorated with scars and calluses. These hands held stories; memories.

“How have you been?” You asked, feeling the faint but familiar feeling of tears well up in your eyes. Arthur was bashful, you could tell from the way he was hiding his face with his hat, not quite capable of looking you in the eye again.

“I’ve been just fine.” He smiled politely and nodded, fully taking your hand into his and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. There was a shakiness in the way he did this; you felt his hands tremble softly. In another act of familiarity, you placed your other hand over his, cupping his own fully. There was a noticeable tension in you as you contemplated your next question.

“You still ride with…uh…” You did not complete your sentence. Both of you knew you didn’t need to. He nodded in response, his smile hardening.

“Yes, still do.”

“Well… it’s good to hear you’re doing good Arthur.” You smiled. The two of you exchanged committal half smiles, not yet letting go of one another’s hands. You seemed to study each other for a moment, and despite customers calling for you, Arthur did not want you to go. And you seemed in no hurry to go either.

You shook your head gently in contemplation.

“Arthur, I… I’ve missed—”

In the not so far off distance, you listened, then watched, as two men bumped into each other. Your stomach dropped in fear as you watched the bigger of the two head-butt the other man, knocking him into a table occupied by patrons. Your hands tightened around Arthur’s as you heard a bottle break, and in a split second, the hammer dropped; the entire bar dissolving into a brawl. All around you, fists began flying and chairs were picked up, as men knocked into eachothers and swung in their clumsy, drunken haze. The testosterone in this saloon alone was nearly tangible. You looked to your left and watched the few women there flee out the back door. With Arthur’s hand still in your own, you began walking towards the back, half expecting him to come along with you.

But to no one’s surprise, and to your disappointment, you watched as he turned his back and threw himself headfirst into the fight. As the only woman there now, you felt safest behind the bar. You feared that if you stepped out, you’d be caught in someone’s flurry of fighting. You backed into the mahogany cases of liquor behind you, feeling the way the bottles vibrated and shook with the far off slamming of bodies against the floor. Your eyes remained fixated on Arthur, and you felt your blood run cold when you saw a man come at him, putting his entire body weight into swinging at him.

His name caught in your throat, but it quickly died down when Arthur dodged the punch, stepping to the side before landing a flurry of punches to the man, kicking him away with his boot. You watched in morbid mesmerization as Arthur continued to fight the man, the fight bordering on unfair as Arthur easily out did the man with skill born of experience. His face was already beginning to bruise a nasty red and deep purple after each punch he took, but Arthur never faltered. Eventually, he knocked the man out cold against a chair, and relentlessly, Arthur moved onto the next. He headed to a group of three men this time, seemingly on his way to help his friend; the same man who started this entire fight.

Arthur’s determination seemed to be helping his friends out of losing fights; it appeared this was something he was used to. Like it was just another daily occurrence for him. But to you, this senseless fighting had no other meaning than to prove who could punch harder.

“What the hell is going on down here?!” Another burling man came stomping down the stairs, his ego just as big as he was, it seemed. Only a man with an inflated sense of self would insert himself into this mess, you thought. You ducked behind the counter, but peered over just enough so that you could see what was going on. You looked to your left, briefly, and saw another one of Arthur’s companions fighting a man. Another man pleaded with this “Tommy” to not involve himself. Your throat became dry as you saw him, with ease, knock back Arthur’s other friend.

Arthur tried to approach Tommy and Javier, but was promptly jumped by another man who wrapped his arm around his neck from behind. Arthur had to continually jab his elbow into the man in order to get him off, the struggle ensuing for excruciatingly long. As soon as Arthur threw him off, he made sure to turn around and land a punch in his jugular, knocking him out. Arthur’s fighting would’ve impressed you, if not for the fact you were terrified.

“Javier could use some help, Morgan!” Bill called out from across the bar.

You watched in terror as Arthur confidently, and calmly, sauntered up behind Tommy, who was ruthlessly slamming Javier into a table over and over, before landing a punch behind Tommy’s head. The impact barely seemed to phase Tommy, before he calmly turned around and punched Arthur across the jaw. The sound of fist meeting flesh made you squirm, especially when it was Arthur’s. You nearly shrieked as you watched Tommy grapple Arthur’s shoulders brutishly before throwing him over the same table. His body tumbled over the surface before landing on the floor with a grunt and a thud. To add insult to injury (and even more injury), Tommy walked around the table and picked Arthur up off the floor once again, before sending his body crashing through the saloon window.

“Oh my god!” You screamed, not caring for your own safety anymore as you followed the scene outside.

Arthur crashed through the glass, gaining new cuts and bruises as he rolled off the wooden porch and onto the mud. He skid across the earth, smothering his jacket and pants with filth. He stood wearily, taking notice of the crowd forming around them. Cold rain poured down on him, only making the surface beneath him even more slippery.

“Come on, pretty boy.” Tommy’s voice was gravelly as he marched down the wooden steps, a parallel to the way Arthur had marched up them earlier.

“Pretty boy? You’re kidding me. Pretty boy?” At this point, Arthur wasn’t sure why he was fighting. To not die, he supposed. He could’ve stepped away at an earlier point, but pride did not allow him to. Now he was stuck in this. The two sized each other up as they got into fighting stances, then Tommy stepped forward and grabbed Arthur’s neck, throwing him to the side.

You heard a cacophony of horrified screams, disapproving howls, and cheers for either Tommy or Arthur. You saw the rage sizzling in Arthur, and felt a combination of pity, horror, and disappointment. It’d been so many years since you last saw him, so many you had lost count, and this was the first time you had seen him since then. The only thing that had changed was how his eyes and hands had hardened. And suddenly, the calluses and cuts on his knuckles that you had seen earlier seemed to explain themselves.

For a moment, Tommy seemed to have gotten the upper hand on Arthur, and you feared the worst. You weren’t sure how far this would go, but your body flinched with each punch you saw Arthur tank. But against all odds, Arthur clambered on top of Tommy.

A smattering of blood and mud smeared all over Arthur’s face, he grunted with each brutal punch he landed onto Tommy’s head. He felt Tommy claw at the thick leather of his jacket, attempting to shove his face away, but Arthur persisted. Arthur got some sort of wretched exultation out of watching the way Tommy’s face turned into one of helplessness. His body thrashed and his limbs flailed as Arthur continued to strike his head, the skin breaking and bleeding from the repeated impact.

Arthur grit his teeth so hard he swore a tooth nearly cracked. He had tuned out the cheering surrounding him, an uninterrupted ringing replacing any other discernible sounds. The only thing he could focus on was the way he would slam his fist, over and over into Tommy’s head, as if in hypnosis. The man below him was a pitiful, bloody pulp; reaching his arms up as if he were begging for some unlikely act of mercy. But Arthur would punch again, and again, and again…

“Stop! Stop! Please!” You watched as Mr. Downes bravely stepped forward, pleading desperately with Arthur to stop. Arthur raised his fist, but did not connect it, instead looking at Mr. Downes. Arthur and Mr. Downes exchanged a few more words before Arthur pushed past him, covered in mud and all, limping away from the scene and pushing past people.

He caught sight of you looking on tearfully, and the gravity of what he had just done crashed down on him all at once when you turned your back and scurried down the alley besides the saloon. Arthur abandoned any resolve he had and followed you. You heard the rugged breathing and heavy footsteps behind you, which only terrified and spurred you on to run deeper into the alley. You turned the corner, back pressed against the rear wall of the saloon. You held your breath, and for a terrifying few seconds, heard the footsteps approaching. As if it were some sort of deliberate jump scare, you yelped when Arthur turned the corner and faced you. Normally you’d find the mud revolting, but now it served to scare you. It made Arthur seem all the more savage, traces of seething rage still present in his eyes. His hair was wild, face bruised and beaten; his blood mixed with mud and smeared his face in a grim unfamiliarity. He took a step towards you, and you flinched, trying to back away but you could not; you could only shuffle to the side.

At once, Arthur was overcome with an unfathomable sense of self hatred and disgust upon seeing the fear present in your face. He felt sickened with himself, and was given a moment of clarity as he looked down at his dirtied hands, his mud smeared clothes, his bruises and bleeding knuckles. Arthur saw his reflection in the window next to you, the person staring back at him unfamiliar, yet startlingly recognizable all the same.

“(Name)—”

“GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!”

Arthur’s eyes began stinging, a deep pang hitting his chest. His shoulders slumped and his body sagged, contracting your squared and tensed shoulders, your arms lifted and crossed over your chest protectively.

“You… You… I… I thought maybe you might’ve changed! But you proved me wrong.” You were sobbing at this point, and you weren’t sure whether you were trembling from your anger or fear. Probably both. Arthur could not find the words to respond.

“How dare you! Come into our town, into our businesses, and start a fight! And beat on us like you own the place! You beat that man half to death! WHAT FOR?” Your body buzzed in anxiety, unable to hold in any more of your anger as you shook.

“(Name), he was going to kill Javier back there if I didn’t—”

“You’re an animal!”

Arthur seemed to forget himself once more, feeling rage upon being called an animal. But perhaps it was more than just being insulted. Perhaps it was years of hurt and heartbreak behind his words.

“You don’t know what you’re saying. Listen to yourself—.” He spat through grit teeth.

“Oh I know!” You huffed, lowering your arms now. “Which is exactly why I left in the first place. Why I left you.”

You both felt that one, Arthur the most. The sting was reminiscent of being stabbed in the chest. He turned his sadness to anger, fueling the burning flame inside his chest. It kept him going.

“You left what we had, the good thing that we had, so that you could come and work at some dead end town? Is this really the life you want? Is your way of living any better than what we do?”

“I live a good honest life now!”

“You’re just a naive girl who doesn’t know that sometimes, this is all we got. Some of us don’t have the luxury of being able to just turn away and start anew. For some of us, we only have each other!”

You were enraged at this point, enough to let your guard down and walk up directly in front of him, sizing him up almost.

“I’d rather die working than live my life as a despicable criminal living with a lowdown gang constantly on the run. If that’s your idea of a life, then good god Mister Morgan, I pity you.” Your every word dripped with venom. And you made sure Arthur felt every bit of it, even going as far as to jab your finger in his chest.

“You’re a brat.” He growled. “You seem to forget where you come from. You were once a part of the gang, you went through exactly what I went through and you knew what it was like. And now you wanna act like you’re better than me? Like you’re above me?” He looked back down at you with malice, a hidden layer of hurt and sadness just beneath the surface. He looked somewhere between a kicked puppy and a crazed, rabid dog who’d been rolling in mud.

You said nothing in return, instead falling into some sort of stare off. He looked at you expectantly, but did not anticipate an answer. It was as if by looking into your eyes or expression, he could catch a slight change in your expression that indicated, just maybe, that you did not mean what you were saying. That this was all some adrenaline fueled attack on him after having watched him savagely beat a man. But even he could realize the irony in that line of thought.

But not once did your face soften, or look away from him in a show of discomfort or even intimidation. You stood your ground, heels firmly planted on the mud beneath you both.

Wordlessly, but with a grunt, Arthur moved past you, his arm brushing past and saturating some of your skin and clothes with mud. Arthur grumbled lowly to himself as every fiber in his body urged him to turn around and look at you one last time, to throw himself at your feet and ask if you really meant what you said, but his pride did not allow him.

Even as Dutch spoke to him at the front of the shop, his ears ringed and obstructed any other words from entering and being processed (He hadn’t even questioned Dutch’s sudden appearance with Trelawny). Arthur seemed to look past anyone who spoke to him, only nodding in response when they asked “are you listening?”. It was only when he was able to dunk himself in a nearby barrel of water, did the striking coldness snap him back to reality; the gritty veil over his consciousness being washed away.

The ride back towards camp was a gap in Arthur’s memory. He fell back into a pit of thought that tunneled his vision once again. He was all at once, keenly and uncomfortably aware of every sound and movement around him, but he could not be bothered to give it any thought. The shockwave of impact that traveled up through his body as he got off of his horse rather clumsily did not shake him from his pensive state. He wearily returned the greetings that people sent his way, not in the mood to entertain any sort of conversation with anyone. Arthur wanted nothing more now, than to rest his sore and aching muscles. He changed out of his caked, filthy clothes and changed into his union suit, the clean fabric feeling angelic in comparison to the squalid state of his clothes. His joints began to throb suddenly, as if the pain was triggered at once by laying on his cot, which suddenly seemed to sky rocket in comfortability. A deep ache settled into his side; the side he had landed on after being thrown.

His bed echoed his groan as he rested his weight on it, a large sigh leaving him as pain settled into every cell of his body. His exhaustion overtook him as he slid his eyes shut; his head hitting his pillow like there was a weight tied around his neck. Every bit of his being screamed for sleep, but his racing mind would not allow rest. He thought of you: the terrified look in your eyes after he followed you behind the saloon, the way you looked akin to a wild, injured animal backed up into a corner. He was sure he looked the same.

His bodily aches were accompanied by the pang in his chest as he remembered your heavy words. He squeezed his eyes in an attempt to prevent tears from surfacing, but the pressures in his nasal passages proved to be too much. He turned his back away from camp so that no one could see just how pathetic he looked.

The insults on him, his gang, his way of life. They were all too much to bear. He did not anticipate seeing you at all. He looked back regretfully on how the sweet encounter had turned so sour so quickly; part of him blamed Bill. He could at least find solace in the fact that you had missed him after all these years. As he did. Though he had had women since then, he never did quite forget about you. A boy never forgets his first love. And now that he was a man, those feelings amplified, and he knew it had been more than just puppy love. Part of him could not understand your rejection of the lifestyle. When you initially left the gang, and Arthur by proxy, you explained you could not withstand the violence and bloodshed, but that you respected and understood that this was his way of life, the only way of life he had known, even before he met you and joined the gang. But with the way he had heard you speak so lowly of the gang, he could not understand where all your compassion had gone, especially since you had been part of it.

Part of him still held onto a childlike sense of anger, feeling as though you wronged him in leaving him. But he could at least understand why you decided to up and leave. Perhaps his own judgment of your life had been harsh. You weren’t wrong in saying you lived an honest life, objectively it was better than his. You got to live freely without fear of the law, you made honest clean money, and as far as he knew, you only had yourself to support with the money you made. Arthur hadn’t even considered the possibility you were seeing someone, his stomach dropping at the thought. He was guilt ridden and anxious, nauseated by the thoughts. His temporary solution would be falling asleep to quell it.

When Arthur awoke, it was nighttime. The sun had set, the sky tinged with dark purple that faded into night. Most of the activity around camp had calmed, but many people were still awake. Arthur stood at once, bee lining towards his horse. He ignored any gang members that attempted to come forth and ask him if he was okay, where he was going. Wordlessly, he mounted his horse and spurred it on, riding back towards Valentine.

Perhaps it was unwise to go back into town so soon after raising hell there. But Arthur couldn’t care less. His objective at the moment was to see you. And he hoped to god you’d still be at the saloon. His heart thrummed in time with his horses running, and he began to pant as if he was the one doing the physical activity. Perhaps it was the anxiety that made him so short of breath.

He saw the promising glow of Valentine as he approached the small town, pulling on his horse's reins to try and slow down. His horse trotted down the streets of now dried earth, the prints of shoes and wheels having dried up into casts. He cringed internally when he saw the still broken window of the saloon, the glass having been cleaned up long ago. Luckily for him though, the lights of the saloon were on, and he heard the same lively piano from before. From the outside, it was almost as if nothing had ever happened, but he knew that as soon as he stepped inside, all heads would turn in his direction and stare him down. Arthur was used to looks, he would pay it no mind. But it was the thought of you sending him a disgusted look his way that had his head spinning in apprehensiveness.

Arthur was not a man who was scared of confrontation, and when it came to violence, he was best at letting his fists speak for him. But for more emotional matters, he sounded as eloquent as a child learning how to read for the first time. He would get stuck on using the right combination of words, and would opt towards not saying much at all. But this was something he wanted, and he knew that if was going to ask for your forgiveness, he’d have to put effort into sounding decent.

The hinges of the saloon doors creaked, and as Arthur expected, the volume level of the saloon lowered, the lively chatter dissolving into whispers and grumbles of threats. He looked over towards the bar to see if coming here had been worth his time. And there you were, standing in your confused, and frankly appalled, glory. You were wiping down a glass, continuing for a moment too long as you stared at him.

You had not expected to see him back here, grimacing at the tender purple skin of his cheek. Part of you felt pity, but it was replaced by indifference as you remembered he brought the injuries onto himself. As he began walking towards you, you slammed the glass down on the counter with a sigh and rolled your eyes. The sudden slam startling, but not fully waking, the passed out patron slumped against the counter.

“What are you doing here.” You asked, hand on your hip. It came out as less of a question and more as a statement professing your annoyance. Arthur leaned on the counter, moving his head to the side so he could look anywhere but at you as he attempted to find the right words to start off with. He opened and closed his mouth, and you were beginning to get impatient.

“I’m sorry…”

You were about to demand Arthur either leave or speak up, until you heard his meek apology. You felt your facial muscles relax from the scowl you had held for so long.

“What?” You asked in disbelief.

Arthur fidgeted where he stood, occupying himself by drumming his fingers along the counter. You lowered your arms to your side, fidgeting as well.

“I’m sorry too.”

A moment of awkward silence hung over the two of you before you grabbed his hand; bruised and callused, taken into soft and gentle. You pursed your lips in a half hearted smile before nodding your head towards the stairs. Before Arthur could even understand what you were implying, you were leading him past the bar counter and up the stairs towards a private room.

“What do we need this for? I just wanted to apologize…”

“I know. I just didn’t want my patrons hearing, y’know…” You laughed awkwardly. “A little privacy is nice, they don’t exactly keep their noses to themselves.” You fumbled with your keys, a sweat forming on the back of your neck as you struggled to jam the key into the lock before turning it. Arthur found it rather suggestive, but he decided to move along anyway. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t have the hots for you anymore.

The two of you stiffly scooted over towards the bed; first you, then him, the bed dipping significantly from his weight. The sudden dip caused you to bump into his arm, which neither of you wanted to acknowledge outright. Your thighs rubbed against each other, and at last, you were able to see side by side how much Arthur had grown since you last saw him. Seeing the way he dwarfed you tugged at your heart strings.

“Oh, Arthur… How I’ve missed you… I’m so sorry for saying all those nasty things. And I know it’s no excuse but I was scared and… I felt a little betrayed that you had gone off to fight instead of… coming with me.”

Arthur nodded as you spoke, processing each word.

“And I know I shouldn’t have expected that. They’re your gang afterall, they’re your family. And I don’t think you’re all lowdown, or any of those nasty things I said.” You were gripping Arthur’s arm by now, as if holding onto him at that moment might better help him understand and accept your apology.

“I know sweetheart, I know.” He began. “I’m a fool and fighting’s all I know. It’s all I’ve ever known. I ain’t the smartest… but…” Arthur seemed to lose his train of thought, physically pained by his own mental fumbling. “I’m just trying to say that I’m sorry. I especially don’t have any right to judge your lifestyle.”

It was your turn to nod, slowly breaking into a smile.

“I’m glad you came.”

“I wanted to see you.”

The two of you slowly began to intertwine hands, shyly at first, until you fully sent it and gripped his fully. You felt his arm go tense against you as he looked back and forth from where you two conjoined to your face. The tension in the air had a nostalgic feel to it. It brought you back to all those years ago when you and Arthur had first gotten together. You were so young then. Holding hands also allowed you to feel the size difference, causing the both of you to blush.

“You’ve uh… really grown.” You giggled together. “I mean, you always were much larger than me but my my…”

Arthur nodded, looking down at the noticeable differences between you.

“Yeah, I always did love giving you piggy back rides.” He added. The recalling of the juvenile memory had you laughing even more.

“Oh, how I missed those! And you were always so helpful. Could be really helpful to have you around the saloon, can intimidate some guys away like you did for me when we were younger.”

“Gladly will, sweetheart.”

As the laughter died down, you hesitantly leaned upwards, looking for a sign to stop on his face. Though with more hesitation, you abstained from kissing him.

That is, until he went ahead and did it himself. He let go of your hand so he could cup your face, using the other arm to wrap around your waist and hold you close, as though you might disappear if he didn’t. Your lips molded perfectly against one another. It felt like the reunion of lips that should’ve always been together. And even though you had attempted to peel away from Arthur for so long, the meeting was like two sides of a wound finally mending back together.

The muffled chatter of the downstairs saloon was drowned out by your and his heavy breathing. You pushed your own lips hard against his teeth, gripping the downy tuft of hair at the base of his neck. He was taken aback by your enthusiasm but returned it nonetheless. The men you had had in Arthur’s absence were insipid compared to his passionate kisses. The two of you idly palmed and groped each other, the same tenderness as when you two were younger, but with the renewed passion of lovers long separated, finally reuniting with a more carnal desire.

Memories come in waves, and tonight, you were drowning.

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PHEW this took me days, I can finally work on all my other requests. Thanks for being patient y'all

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All We Ever Wanted Was Everything - Bauhaus

[immediatebreakfast]

"Because your peasant is at heart a coward and a fool! Those flames only appear on one night; and on that night no man of this land will, if he can help it, stir without his doors. And, dear sir, even if he did he would not know what to do. Why, even the peasant that you tell me of who marked the place of the flame would not know where to look in daylight even for his own work. Even you would not, I dare be sworn, be able to find these places again?"

When Jonathan and Dracula were having the conversation about the strange phenomenons that happened during the travel, the Count answered. This whole response feels... Aggresive.

The way Dracula describes the people that he has been terrorizing for centuries as cowards, and fools. Even if said people have been succesful in protecting themselves, and their families with their methods. It feels like the Count is letting some anger go in the conversation, like he is telling Jonathan how those peasants are just delaying the inevitable.

But this paragraph has a purpose for the Count. Dracula asked Jonathan to his face if he knew, or remembered well enough of the travel path that they took in May 5 to escape when things get worse.

And Jonathan didn't notice! Because, thanks to Dracula's whole speech before the question, our good friend thinks of this question as part of the conversation about the myth of the blue flames, and not the Count practically asking him if he has means to escape.

It's so insidious, yet so perfectly timed that it's a good example of how the Count can gain Jonathan's trust so quickly, he presents himself as the perfect host, and the perfect companion for Jonathan who is so new in these lands.

[familyagrestefanblog]

Chat Noir in THAT moment of "Revolution"

May I say with every inch of my heart: fucking THANK YOU Adrien for speaking up to give the governmental and systemically oppressed civilans who think themselves the helpless victims of a normal but highly corrupted, extremely dangerous and selfish person in their mayor’s position an actual VOICE.

And he even did it in probably the savest and most orderly way as well, which ensured that Chloé can neither use the citizens’ reaction against the people themselves nor dismiss it overall because every other approach but EXACTLY what Adrien did here would have resulted in some variation of a chaotic sea of voices and opinions contradicting and clashing each other in various degrees of intensity, favoritism, audibility and spoken CONTENT, in an environment where people could have then freely spoken against and FOR Chloè too.

Ladybug and Chat Noir showing up in a political situation like THIS to get the people on their side to rise up against the corrupted mayor by taking full control of the whole situation should have been an almost IMPOSSIBLE feat to accomplish this quickly and smoothly in execution because a political scenario like this is a literal MINEFIELD as we saw at the end of the last episode. One wrong word and everything could have ended up in total madness that would have either taken a serious amout of time and effort to get back under control or outright through FORCE (or both)

But Adrien was just out here and did it in 5 seconds FLAT.

Thank you Adrien for taking the massive value of your status as Chat Noir into your own hands and acting as the politically most competent and most effective fucker in this entire mess of a situation (besides Lila but that’s a given) as Chloè’s true foil in this entire episode.

You know I would never use the word “perfect” to describe Adrien as a person but I’ve gotta be honest, the way so many massive delicate factors of how to approach not only a political conflict but a full on governmental escalation like this - were a whole sea of angered people have to be lead to speak as a unit - were immediately NAILED with this ONE perfectly timed and worded sentence and this ONE striking hand gesture was pretty fucking close to perfection. Ladybug and Mayor Chloé were having a hero-villain akuma pissing contest of moralities and Chat Noir just pulled all of that back into harsh reality with one swift action to actually give the power back to the people. Let’s fucking GO!

That was the most effective, competent, responsible and situation-appropriate (and that in corrupted POLITICS) leadership action being taken in the entire episode and it was done in 5 seconds flat by Chat Noir who eagerly wanted to intervene since right the beginning of the episode. No wasting time holding a speech, no unnecessary hero smack talk, no showmanship and no personal verbal morality battles. Just using his status to act as a leader for the civilian people so they can join him to act as one strong unit no matter their age, voice volume, body height, strength etc, 👏it 👏did👏 not👏 matter. 👏

(only people without arms would have been excluded, if you really wanna nit-pick)

He did everything so fucking RIGHT in that moment. Through providing them with a clear-cut language and morality standpoint from his part - without making it about himself-, an easy and situation-specific & very fast, universal and practical but also very impactful way to communicate their game-changing opinion for this ONE specific point he names very forthright and that calls the problem right out on it’s core, so Chloè and the people who support her have no wiggle room to shut it down or dismiss it through pocking holes by claiming people could have misinterpreted what he meant.

5 fucking seconds. PLEASE make it entire episodes!