#Really anyone who stumbles upon this post should go check it out

[hippityhoppityicantrhymegoaway]

Oh god I’m dying right now

So my friend sent me this song called “Crazier Best Friends” and I was listening to it and um despite the fact that literally no one is going to read this there’s these few lyrics that go, “Ashley has a tendency to fall for bad guys, Caroline, she likes em sweet and Zoe likes when they lie, Victoria has some daddy issues, she likes em older kinda mean with tattoos” and because I have been going on a Lunar Chronicles spree ever since I finished Winter, I for some reason have matched the characters to said lyrics. So um yeah. Here.

“Cress she has a tendency to fall for bad guys, Winter yeah she likes em sweet, and Kai he likes when they lie, Scarlet has some daddy issues she likes em older, kinda mean with tattoos.”

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Emotionally Stabled

Fandom: My Lady Jane Pairing: Jane x Guildford Rating: E Word Count: 3144

Summary: Jane goes to have it out with her husband. To have something out. There's definitely a reason she hunted him down, but, stumbling upon him bathing, she can't quite remember what it was. Or; Guildford and Jane get a little more time in the stables before the sun rises.

When Jane sags against the post, she feels herself, for once, about as useless as a wife is meant to be. She feels stupefied. If her husband didn’t have water in his ears, he’d probably hear the dumb, animal thud of her lousy, shameless heart. But he’s wet. Soaked. Hair plastered to his head as he lifts his arms again to slick it back. The movement sets off a cascade of tensing muscle: his hands spread on his glossy hair, his firm-looking arms, the jumping landscape of his upper back, the shivery twitch of his tapering lower back. Guildford shifts his weight and Jane feels faint at the sight of the squeeze of muscle in his backside. She absentmindedly runs a fingertip below her lower lip, checking for drool.

She was in bed with this man. Next to him. She rubbed her legs vigorously against his, pretending to fuck. She wonders how on earth anyone believed them. Who, really, could writhe between the sheets with Guildford Dudley without making a sound? Jane’s nearly moaning where she stands, hypnotized by the shine of moonlight on his naked body.

Though she knows, distantly, that she came to the stables with something to say, it’s eluding her. She wonders if, when she does speak, she should remain limp by this post or go towards him. Probably the latter, but she has little faith that her legs won’t wobble in the attempt. Maybe if she’d had a few minutes to actually lie down. Properly lie down, because she has been horizontal rather a lot today, considering how much has happened. She collapsed during the ceremony, was restrained on a table for a dubious medical examination, participated in the aforementioned fake fuck, and yet none of these things were restful. None of them provided the strength she didn’t realize she would need for accidentally walking in on her starkers new husband.

If only that damn dressing room’d had a chair.

That was it! That was her complaint: he left her shut inside the dressing room! Swine! But Jane’s ire can only put up a half-hearted fight against the paralyzing murk of her lust. Her eyes continue to rove over Guildford as he turns partway towards her and she nearly gets a glimpse of… But no, not quite.

What’s he done to require bathing anyway? Were those brief minutes in bed with her enough to befoul his person? Is he trying to wash the whole horrid day from his skin? Again, she is deeply offended, even if it doesn’t show on her slack-jawed face. It isn’t her fault that they’re married. She had the least say of anyone. Maybe she was naïve to think that, once they were alone, the alliance they forged beneath the sheet would continue to flourish. That they could endure this thing together without one of them running away and getting dirty or sweaty or... something… and leaving the other one trapped!

No. This is just too… Jane has to put her foot down. Her foot in its fine, thin slipper. Her foot at the end of her weak-kneed leg.

She shouts at him as she stumbles inelegantly forward, berates him for his neglect, calls him names. At least, she’s pretty sure she does. She kind of loses focus; after turning towards her, he reaches for a cloth with which he presumably intends to cover the parts of himself she’s just been exposed to for the first time, but before he can secure it around his hips, he’s shouting back at her, the cloth clenched in his fist.

Jane’s never been yelled at by a naked man before. She tries to keep as tight a hold of her point as Guildford has on that cloth (and a ridiculously small cloth anyway, even if he had gotten it wrapped about him—bloody short-sighted to bring something that small to dry himself with—if he’s going to wash up in the stable, he could at least come prepared), but it’s a challenge.

Her distraction makes her more generous in their shouting match than she means to be; she lets him get away with interrupting her, lets her voice trail off so his can rise above it. The most she can really trust herself to do is fix an annoyed expression on her face.

Even that might be failing.

Her gaze keeps dropping from his contemptuous eyes to more welcoming sights. Somehow, she’s tottered near enough to see the individual, gleaming tracks of water droplets as they navigate the planes of his torso. They disappear into damp curls, hair so dark it might be black, and glisten. The contrast against his member is mesmerizing. His angry words are blunted by the heavy breathing coming from her mouth.

Too late, Jane realizes he’s trailed off. Her gaze snaps up to find Guildford watching her, watching him. Time to say something biting to regain the upper hand.

“You learned Latin in a ditch and you bathe in a barn?”

Perfect.

But he’s just staring at her steadily. He starts to cover himself at last and her gaze immediately drops to follow the motion. This makes the expression on his face—when she forces herself again to look up there instead of lower down—a rather smug one.

“I didn’t think you wanted to—”

“I don’t.”

Guildford’s continued grin says he doesn’t buy her adamant denial. Yeah, neither would she. The heat is absolutely radiating from her cheeks. He does her the conceited kindness of holding the cloth in front of his hips to block a select piece of her view, likely knowing it only makes her want to look more.

“The marriage was arranged,” he says with a calmness she couldn’t possibly muster.

“I know.”

“You tried to feign the Affliction to get out of our wedding.”

“I remember.”

“After we got through the bedding ceremony, I pretty much thought that was going to be it.”

“So did I,” Jane admits.

Guildford’s mouth falls open in apparent surprise—at her honesty? At the fact that this might be the first time she’s actually agreed with him?

“I came here to shout at you,” she feels the need to say.

He gives her a gentle smile that catches her further off guard.

“You’ve done that.”

But you’re not leaving, is implied.

Jane seems as incapable of retreat now as she was of standing upright on her own a few minutes ago. Actually, her unreliable feet trip towards him a few more steps. She remembers the days when it was her head that guided her feet, not the opposite.

Really, it should be Guildford with the advantage, despite his nudity. He’s larger than she is, visibly stronger than she is (Look at his face, she reminds herself), and these are his stables, at his home. Why, then, does her nearness seem to make him nervous? He’s a rake! Shouldn’t that make him invulnerable to one inexperienced young woman? But Jane sees Guildford swallow, and observes the way his eyes are now having trouble staying trained above her shoulders. She’s still in a state of undress, dressed for bed beneath her flowing robe—bed bed, not sleep, displaying a length of leg meant to incite a specific reaction. The kind of reaction that gets a marriage consummated. The kind of reaction that might be occurring behind that little cloth if the odd manner in which Guildford’s now holding it slightly away from his body means anything.

He clears his throat like he’s trying to regain command of himself, and possibly of her too, but it’s no good. She’s seen through him. What decides it for her—what makes Jane brave—is the glint of Guildford’s wedding ring. If they can fake it together, maybe they can do it for real together too. Holding his eye, she slips the robe from her shoulders. It lands on dirt and straw. She doesn’t care. She’s once again the most naked she’s ever been before this man, and he’s more naked still. His fortune, her rank, none of it matters. Jane may be the King’s cousin, but she’s also just a girl, standing in front of a boy, trying to communicate with her eyes how badly she needs him to fuck her.

“Unless you want that to be it,” she just barely gets out, close to a whisper.

Just as soft, he says, “I don’t want that to be it,” and it’s possible angels sing.

She goes to him, and he receives her, damp hand on the back of her nightdress to clutch her close. Her chest heaves as they pass a handful of seconds motionless in one another’s arms. Then they kiss, harder than she expects. Jane is grateful they didn’t do this in front of their wedding guests after all because she whimpers. Loudly. Thankfully, Guildford reacts by whipping the cloth to the ground so he can gather her close with both hands.

Jane’s eyes fly open; she can feel him. There! Poking against her with only her dress in the way, stuck to his skin and steadily moistening. As far as anybody knows, she’s felt this and more already, but she hasn’t, and it’s new, and she’s still staring wide-eyed at the face of the most desirable man she’s ever met (not that she gets out much) when his brow furrows as he kisses her. And that might be the most attractive thing he’s done yet: want her back.

Slinging an arm around the back of his neck, she steps out of her slippers, almost sliding on the wet dirt. Jane digs her toes in. This is the water that ran down his body while she spied on him. It’s touched more of her husband than she has, though she plans to rectify that. Her other hand goes to his backside. She squeezes her eyes shut to savour it. She might squeeze her fingers a little too.

Guildford huffs against her lips, his hands groping over her hips to pluck at the white fabric that’s plastered to her skin. Jane experiences a fairly significant case of nerves as he draws the garment over her head, but he greets her bared body with a look of unmistakable admiration, and she is reassured. His hands return to her hips, then one lifts to hover at her center. His raised eyebrows ask the question, a dip of her chin gives the answer, then he’s cupping her there.

He tries to start kissing her again as his fingers begin their exploration, but standing on slippery ground with her legs apart while her husband traces lightly across her engorged clitoris is already a lot to ask, and she has trouble concentrating on making her mouth respond.

Guildford notices and asks, “Would you prefer a bed?”

Jane’s hands smooth over his shoulders as she replies, “Not that one.” She means the one all those people stood around, laughing and gawking, cheering and too drunk to doubt their weak pantomime. She’s not eager to return to that bedchamber, where they would never really have privacy, since a servant could stroll right in, or someone like Guildford’s repellant brother could listen at the door. At the moment, she’s not sure she’ll ever be able to associate that room with much besides stress and humiliation. Even the crackling inferno of lust she feels for her husband might not be enough to smoke those bad feelings out. That can’t be the first place she ever takes Guildford inside her. It just can’t. She’d do it anywhere else. She’d do it on—

“The floor!”

Guildford looks at her doubtfully.

“You realize,” he says, “that would mean you could never make another joke about ditch Latin or barn bathing? You’ll always be the girl unvirgined in the dirt.”

Jane glances around them.

“There’s also straw,” she points out.

She just wants him to say yes. To say anything affirmative, or suggest a better option. It’ll have to be close by though, because the thought of putting her nightdress back on after Guildford peeled it away so sexily makes Jane feel profoundly awkward. Despite her mother’s assumptions, she isn’t clueless about sex. Not the mechanics anyway, nor the multitude of ways it can affect a woman—ways that require herbal treatment. But the rest of it is something of a mystery. The romance, she supposes. Of course, Jane knows romance doesn’t always have to be part of it, but she’d like it to be, here, with her wet, beautiful husband.

“Could we make a compromise and say… your robe?” Guildford nods at where she dropped it, steps away.

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind—” she begins, trying for blasé.

But he says, “I would,” with a tenderness that prevents her from going on.

Instead, Jane goes to the robe and gives it a flick to spread it out flat. She sits. He crouches. When she parts her knees and eases onto her back, he stretches over her. It’s cool on the ground, but soft on the robe. Guildford stares down at her as his hand strokes up the nape of her neck, fingers burrowing into her hair. With this hold on her, he starts to kiss her again, and this time, all her attention is on kissing him back.

His skin is still wet, but that isn’t why Jane shivers. Once she has her hands on his chest, her thighs instinctually closing around his hips, Guildford sneaks a hand down to continue what he barely began while they were standing. Her next response is a broken gasp into his mouth. She feels his smile as he repositions his lips on her throat, and she doesn’t mind it. His touch between her legs is careful but not hesitant. She supposes she is being quite encouraging. After the initial gasp, she offers him a bouquet of sounds: of relief, of surprise, of need. His fingers manipulate her with the same accuracy and self-assurance she saw him demonstrate throwing knives. The thighs that clamped around him now fall apart again just as naturally. It’s something visceral, something to spur him on when the words won’t come.

He nips lightly at a straining muscle in her neck—another new sensation for her, and a reach towards control for him as his fingertips glide lower. She wonders which of them the circles he draws around her entrance is meant to tease. His breath is humid on her neck as he works a finger inside of her. Jane makes a noise she’s terrified is too grunt-y, but he seems to like it, judging by how he tilts his hips to press his hot erection against her thigh. Guildford crooks his finger and rocks his hips at the same time and, ah, she understands where his mind has gone.

Then, there isn’t much more thinking, only movement, the increasing pace of his finger—then pair of fingers—to match the hungry roll of her hips. She can hardly lie still when he starts driving his fingers in and out of her body, that little scoop against her front wall when he’s deep. She’s not the only one losing herself; Guildford abandons her neck for her breasts, sucking and biting until her hips leave the ground. In a haze, she watches him: his bowed head, the shifting muscle in his shoulder, the sheen that isn’t water on her thigh where he rubs himself.

When the pleasure peaks, he removes his fingers to keep massaging her on the outside, his member replacing them in a jerky advance that prolongs her bliss and seems to nearly kill him. That’s what his face says when Jane forces her eyes open (when did she close them?) to observe the unfurling course of events. With weird delight, she finds herself being as tender with him as he was with her, meeting his rakish reputation with sweetness. She caresses the face he’s lifted from her breast, running a finger over his lower lip. He groans, eyelids flickering. She tightens her other arm around him—not to restrain his thrusting, but to luxuriate in the feeling of all those parts of his body that captivated her under the stream of water working in concert at a different task.

Jane can tell Guildford’s getting close to achieving the same feeling he just gave her. She anticipates a grunt of some kind followed by him collapsing on top of her. He shocks her by withdrawing instead, reaching for his manhood, pumping the ruddy length in his fist with an aggression that elicits a moan from her. Once more, he watches her watching him. He opens his mouth and seems about to say her name when—

She’s startled again when the spatter hits her skin, and then her husband’s collapsing on top of her. There, she thinks, rolling her eyes and patting him on the back. I know something of the world.

When Guildford raises his head to meet her eyes with his dazed ones, he asks, “Was that alright?”

Begrudgingly, she finds it endearing. She brushes his hair back from his face, touching him like a wife might in a marriage where they wanted it, wanted this, wanted each other.

“It wasn’t nearly as bad as I imagined it would be,” Jane allows.

“Bad?” Guildford stiffens and pushes up, frowning. “You were imagining it would be bad? That’s why you stood there staring at me for ages before you collected your wits enough to announce yourself?”

“You knew I was there?!”

“I have excellent hearing.”

She’s irritated and muddled and embarrassed. Somehow, she feels tricked, though she’s the one who was spying on him.

In response to his superior look, Jane sputters, “Why didn’t you say something?”

“I figured you were concentrating and didn’t want to interrupt your fantasies of… disappointment.” He’s smirking. “They must have been thorough.”

She turns her face pointedly away from his amusement, but Guildford chases her mouth. The second he kisses her and she’s powerless to do anything but return it, her rickety lies fall through completely.

“Fine,” she says, while he hovers over her, “I enjoyed it.”

“Effusive praise.”

“I might be more loquacious if I couldn’t feel your seed drying on my stomach.”

“Oh.”

Impressively recovered, Guildford springs to his feet and offers Jane a hand, bringing her up after him.

“I know just the thing,” he says.

She takes a few unsteady steps (oh, she is feeling what just happened between them), then realizes his plan. Her husband douses her before she can wriggle from his grasp, tossing the pot back into the trough of water with a laugh. Gasping, Jane casts a glance around for that wretched cloth, but can’t spot it. She has nothing but vengeance in mind when she decides to press herself against him to wipe the water away.

Only vengeance.

That’s all.

[changbunnies]

Sugar (18+)

♡ Pairing: Cowboy/Outlaw!Changbin x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: wild west au, cowboy/outlaw au, porn with plot

♡ Word Count: 7.5k (i got carried away lmao)

♡ Summary: Despite how terrible of an idea it is, Y/N can't seem to stop herself from continuously going back to the outlaw she let defile her. This is a sequel, and you can read part 1 here !

♡ Warnings: changbin is still mean and condescending in a "nice" sort of way. not as dubcon as part 1 but it is still a major theme, references to guns and gun fights+ bounty hunters + death + murder, discussions about morality + having a morally gray sense of right and wrong, discussions on purity and being impure / tainted / a "whore" (remember that this is a historical setting, and those views don't hold up! your worth as a person is not measured by purity and sex), their relationship is probs toxic lmao

♡ Smut Warnings: references to part 1 and other past dubcon situations, petnames (darlin, sugar, sweetheart, good girl, baby. reader is also refered to as a toy but not outwardly called one), power play, oral (f+m receiving), fingering (f receiving), orgasm denial, dacryphilia, unprotected piv, creampie

♡ Notes: a sequel to Outlaw that no one asked for but i was compelled to write :') as usual, if you’re interested you can check out my fic rec and feedback blog @stray-dreams !

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

no first paragraph before read more because it goes straight into a dubcon discussion and i don't want anyone who would be bothered to accidentally see it! <3 just click the read more and enjoy !

You really should know better. You should know it’s a bad idea to keep going back to the outlaw who violated you, who treated you like a toy, who’s sense of morality was gray at best and entirely nonexistent at worst. How foolish must you be to continually make the same mistake over and over again? To return to the man who treats you as an object suited to his needs and entertainment?

Yes, you really should know better. And yet, here you are again, with the object of your fury and desire standing before you with that signature smirk and amused glint in his eye. Because despite everything, you find yourself addicted to him. You seek him out, again and again, unable to resist no matter how much the rational part of your brain screams at you not to. 

The first time you met him again following that fateful first encounter was by coincidence. Changbin had strolled into your town as the sun hung low in the horizon, tying his horse to one of the many hitching posts outside your family’s saloon before entering. You didn’t notice him right away, much too busy serving drinks to the men on the opposite end of the bar from where he sat, but once your gaze finally reached his.. 

You froze completely, eyes wide and breath halted. His brow raised when yours eyes met, a delighted glint in his eye as his famous smirk overtook his features. Your mind and heart were racing, grappling between what you should do and how you will look if you make a scene out of him being here. He didn’t intend to stumble upon you here when deciding to settle in town for the night, but by God, was he glad this was the place he chose. 

He had noticed you first evidently, and was just waiting for the moment when you’d notice him too. And it was amusing seeing you so disconcerted by his presence, your strong persona faltering the minute he entered your space.

He knew where your safe space was now, knew where you called home and where to come find you if he ever so chose to. You, the timid rabbit ensnared in a trap, and Changbin, the deadly hawk ready to devour.

You had to get it together, had to proceed as normal if you didn’t want someone else taking notice of your odd behavior and asking questions. If you were in your right mind, you could probably think of an appropriate excuse to why you were pushed off kilter, but Changbin left you anything but in your right mind. 

“What can I get you tonight, sir?” You said after taking a brief moment to steady yourself. The entire exchange of looks the two of you shared likely lasted mere seconds in reality, but it felt like an eternity. He smiled, a mischievous one that did your racing heart no favors, before he answered, “A bourbon, if ya please.” 

The night continued as normal for a time following that, with Changbin acting as a surprisingly well behaved bar patron. Though, the only reason he was well behaved was because his eyes were fixed on you. He watched in delight as you wrangled in rowdy patrons and ducked advances from drunken men left and right.

It was fun for him; watching you in your element like that, navigating the clamorous saloon with ease and redirecting trouble with a well practiced stern sweetness. Even your rejections to your patrons were sweet, almost sickeningly so; batted eyelashes, rehearsed apologies and excuses, with empty promises of a ‘next time.’ 

Eventually it came time for the saloon to close, with locals shuffling through the streets back to their homes while guests from out of town had to decide whether or not they’d be paying for a room to sleep off the drink in. And it’s during that time that Changbin finally caught you alone, the door to one of the saloon’s secluded storage cupboards left ajar after you entered the room. 

You were just following your nightly routine, checking what stock you had left and taking note of what you’d need to get more of before the week’s end, when you heard the subtle squeak of boots behind you. “Hey there, darlin’,” he smiled as he closed the door behind himself, stepping closer to you after the lock clicked. 

“Changbin–” your voice came out in a stern whisper, unconsciously taking a step back as he moved closer, though there wasn’t far for you to go in the small space, “Get out.”

“Now, now,” he tuts, feigning disappoint as he takes another step forward, further closing the gap between you, “is that any way to treat a payin’ guest?”

“Regardless of that, you still aren’t allowed in here,” you scowled, but his grin didn’t falter; if anything, it grew larger, gratified by the brave front you were putting on. If it were with anyone else, your bravery wouldn’t be a front at all, because you certainly are a brave woman– just not with Changbin.

With him, you’re weak, your spark diminishing the instant his eyes fall on you. And you’ll fight it, of course you will, but when all is said and done, you will give in. Because that’s just the effect he has on you. 

“If you’d rather we do this out in the hall, I’m fine with that,” he challenged you, knowing very well that’s the last thing you’d want. His hand reached up to your neck, pushing your hair behind your shoulder and exposing your neck. “It’s a shame the marks have faded,” he said, voice low as his fingers traced your skin, “what do ya say we bring ‘em back, hmm?” 

“Absolutely not,” you hissed, your hands landing on his shoulders as you tried to push him away from you. He stood firm despite your pushing, letting out a low chuckle as his fingers moved from your neck to your shoulder, and down the length of your torso. And to be fair, you weren’t actually using your full strength; you were holding back, and he could tell.

He’s familiar with how a woman who's desperate to get away will react– screaming, hitting, clawing; none of which is what you’re doing. And maybe that would make sense if you were the sort of person who’s fight or flight instinct was to freeze instead, but you're not. You’re brave, you fight, you don’t let men get the better of you.

So why is it that when it’s Changbin putting you in this situation, you easily relinquish control? Why were your attempts to put up a fight so feeble, as if you want to let him overpower you? The answer to that question is clear– the biting words and scornful looks doing little to hide the glimmer that hides underneath.

You want him. And if you weren’t ready to admit that to yourself yet, he’d help you see it. 

He brought his face close to yours, foreheads just barely touching, the scent of bourbon strong on his breath. The saloon had grown quiet with the closing of the bar and guests retiring to their rooms, and it made you wonder if Changbin could hear how hard your heart was beating. Your eyes were looking to the side, avoiding his piercing gaze. 

Eyes that looked straight through you, eyes that uncovered your deepest, darkest desires with ease, eyes that left no room for secrets or lies. Those were the kind of eyes Changbin had, and he used the power they held to his advantage with you. You can’t hide from him; his eyes strip you bare, leaving you as transparent as glass. 

Whether you admitted to your desires or not, he’d be the winner. If you gave in right away, confess that he filled you with an impulsive need you previously thought impossible, he’d take pride in the fact that he made you that way. And if you fought, if you denied and rejected, you’d grant him satisfaction when you inevitably crumbled to his touch. Either option left you the loser, because he knows he’s right, and there’s no escaping it. 

A one-sided stalemate, where the victor was already predetermined. Your fate unavoidable, Changbin’s hold on your senses undeniable. He has you, and that's why you couldn't look at him. Because no matter how hard you denied it, the truth would be apparent. Much to your dismay, he sees you for who you are– try as you might, there would be no hiding it. 

“Look at me, sugar,” he said as his hand hiked up your dress. He wanted to see the expression you held, wanted to see how far your self determination had fallen. Whether it was a look of submission this early on, or a look of pure contempt, it wouldn’t matter; because either way, there’s fun for him to have with you. 

“What do you want from me?” you asked with eyes squeezed shut, voice beginning to tremble as his hand rubbed between your thighs. You’re not even sure why you asked, entirely; you knew this was nothing but a game for him, an addictive cat and mouse. He’s in it for the pleasure, for the thrill of making you crumble to his whims– it was as simple and clear as that. 

“Oh, darlin,” he cooed as he leaned his head further down, lips brushing against your ear, “you already know what I want.” Fuck. He could see goosebumps erupting on your skin, noticed the way you instinctively tried to close your legs together, though his hand instantly stopped the act from happening. Fun, he thought. Toying with you is so fun.

“I want you,” Changbin continued, bringing his other hand to your face and forcing you to look back at him. “I want you pinned down underneath me. I want to hold you by the throat while I fuck you. I want to watch you become stupid from my cock.”

Oh, God. Your face was on fire, heart bursting out of your chest, hopelessly ensnared by him; caught in a trap you had no hope of escaping from unscathed. 

“I’m not going to let you do that,” you managed to say without stuttering, a feeble attempt to stand your ground, though the proverbial floor to stand on no longer existed. But with his hand nestled between your legs, you couldn’t hide the way your body reacted to his words; couldn’t hide the way arousal pooled in your underwear. Once again, your body has betrayed you. 

“Is that right?” he grinned as he spoke, the amusement in his voice clear. He knew you’d let him have you, but the fact that you were denying it makes things much more exciting. “I don’t think that’s true, sugar,” Changbin said, now directly rubbing over your soaked underwear, “I think you’ll let me do anything I want.. I think ya want me just as bad as I want you.” 

He was right, of course. Maybe you’d hide it for a time, but you won’t be able to resist for long. He’s frustratingly smug and assured, but it’s not without reason. Your self respect, your dignity, your purity– what had become of it? In blatant terms, it’d been ruined– forever marred by his touch, the damage to your body and mind irreparable.

And whatever you could reclaim from what was left has been forever tarnished by your own actions. Tainted by your desire for the man in front of you, your thirst forever unquenchable, the very sanctity of your being in the hands of a criminal. 

And in the end, he fucked you right there, in the small, tucked away storage cupboard, with your back against the wall, and legs around his waist. His strength held you up, his arms hooked under your own and supporting all of your weight, your desperate noises muffled only by clamping your hands over your mouth.

He made regular visits to the town after that, becoming a loyal regular of the saloon, charming staff and other patrons alike with his wit and allure. It was infuriating watching him play the role of a simple wanderer looking for work, his true nature and motives known only to you.

No one else seemed to know what lied underneath the charming front. The worst kind of man, a manipulator through and through, a deviant who beckoned you to his room in the late hours of the night, the proprietor to a secret affair not yet uncovered by those around you. 

However, he couldn’t hide his identity forever; his past actions eventually caught up to him when a gang of bounty hunters began to sweep the area with wanted posters in hand, eager to collect the reward for the head of Seo Changbin. He left town in a blaze of smoke and gunfire, shooting back at anyone who dared follow him.

You were relieved at first, knowing that Changbin couldn’t return without instigating a fierce gun fight for his life. But as the weeks passed, a gnawing feeling began to eat away at your chest. The bounty hunters moved on, carried by the promise of wealth further west, and yet Changbin hadn’t returned to town. And that was a good thing– or at least, it was supposed to be. 

Did you.. miss him? No, that was impossible. Completely unfeasible, utterly out of the realm of possibility. That’s what you told yourself, but the gnawing feeling didn’t recede in the slightest; if anything, it grew stronger with each passing day.

Did you really want to see Changbin again? No, it had to be the hormones talking– surely you weren’t actually hoping to see him again. He twisted your beliefs and made you confused, that’s all; you could recover from this with time. 

But you’d been thinking a lot lately about what made Changbin different from the bounty hunters that hunted him, and you came to the conclusion that they weren’t much different in the end; they went wherever money and women called to them, a penchant for violence ingrained in the very essence of their actions.

The only difference between them and Changbin was that he didn’t live under false pretenses or a faux sense of morality; he knew exactly who he was, and he didn’t pretend to be anything different in front of you. 

And can you call a bounty hunter morally superior when at the end of the day they are still taking a life in exchange for money? Can you really say that one sin justifies another? Is it okay to kill someone if that person was in the wrong first? You didn’t think about these things until you met Changbin, and if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know where you stood anymore on whether or not someone like him deserved to die. 

You found yourself questioning the people you used to applaud, and wondering if you were really as good of a person as you thought you were. Maybe these complicated feelings always lied within you, and all it took to bring them out was meeting the right person.

No, it was all Changbin’s fault that you’ve begun to feel this way. He warped your thoughts and desires, he made you doubt what you once held firm to, he’s bad for you.

But even so, knowing he’s bad for you, knowing that he makes you act irrationally, knowing that he triggers your deepest impulses, you are here again. Back in the place you first met him, the place you once called home, surrounded by the ghosts of your past, of the person you were before you met him. 

“So we meet again, darlin’,” he said when your figure first emerged in his doorway, tense frame instantly relaxing when met with the sight of you, hand falling from its readied position on his gun holster.

You are no threat to him, hungry for his touch as you are. Any threat from you would ring hollow, because for better or worse, he knows you. And you're certainly capable of a lot of things, but fighting against your basest desires doesn’t seem to be one of them. 

You stepped inside fully, trying to have a nonchalant air about you, though you’re sure Changbin was able to see through it. He always reads you easily, always takes notice of even the most minute of changes in your body language. You’re sure that even now, he can sense the subtle shy anxiety that wells under the surface. But regardless, you’re here now, having come too far to retreat at the last minute. 

And you know that he knows what it is you want, knows why you are here, but should you still be honest? Debase yourself by admitting your most carnal of desires? But at this point, what were you if not tarnished?

Your worth can’t go any lower than it already has– you were already brought to your lowest point, so what was the harm in indulgence? If you were already ruined, why shouldn’t you disregard all you’ve ever been taught, all you ever thought you knew, and let him devastate you? 

But no, you can’t do that. It would be too easy, and if there’s anything you’ve learned about Changbin, it’s that he doesn’t like easy. He wants you to stand your ground, he wants you to argue and fight against everything he says and does. He wants your eyes angry, for your voice to tremble with indignation, because it’ll make it that much better when he dismantles you. 

He wants to be the object of your ire, for your resentment to build to the point of eruption, only for it to be eclipsed by how good it feels when he fucks you. Whether or not you truly hate him is up for debate at this point, and ultimately doesn’t matter much. What does matter is the fun you grant him, the cat and mouse game culminating into a moment that can only be described as pure bliss.

“I know, I know. Ya want me to fuck you, don’t ya darlin’?” He smiles as he says it, anticipating what your reaction will ultimately be. A glare maybe, with your face hot and red, or mousy as you finally admit openly how bad you want him.

While the looks of animosity are his favorite, he likes the shy looks too; the timid expression on your face when he catches you off guard, a quick glimmer of embarrassment or sheepishness before you can conjure your antipathy to replace it. 

“No. I want to fuck you. And you’ll let me,” you say, hoping to come across as confident and stern, “You’ll do whatever I want you to do.”

“Oh? Is that right?” Changbin lets out a laugh, head tilting as he grants you another amused look. That’s certainly a surprise, but he’s not opposed to it. He can easily do that– give you a taste of control, that is. It’s an interesting proposition; a fun one. 

He can let you believe you’re the one in charge, that you have the power to make the rules and that he’ll follow them. And maybe he will follow them– to an extent, of course.

He’ll give you his ‘yes, ma’am’s’ and ‘whatever ya say, darlin’ ‘s, play the role of the obedient man cursed to follow your whims, hit you with tongue-in-cheek remarks and let you ‘tame’ him with harsh looks and biting words when he steps out of line. All so that in the end, when he easily takes all the control away from you, it’ll be that much sweeter. 

It’s a fun game you’re offering him, so he’ll play the hell out of it. “Sure, sweetheart. You’ve been a good girl for me, I can give ya a reward,” Changbin smirks as he says it, clearly not taking you seriously in the slightest. But that’s okay, because you didn’t expect him to; you knew any attempt to wrestle control would be met with an amused smirk, you knew that none of your harsh words would do anything but fuel his delight. 

The reason you’re doing this isn’t to try and gain some sense of control that you know you won’t be granted, and you don’t intend to make him genuinely submit to you; it’s just part of the game between you, and you’re doing your part to make it the most enjoyable it can be. Because if you’re addicted to Changbin, if you can’t escape the way his touch makes you feel, if you can’t get past the need and craving for him, then you need to make him just as addicted to you. 

Just as your thoughts are consumed by him, you want his to be consumed by you. Think of only you, crave only you, make it so that no one else in the world can compare. You want to be the first person, the only person, he goes to when he wants to fuck. You want to be the drug in his veins, you want to eat away at his self-control the same way he eats away at yours. 

Changbin could easily fight against your touches, stand firm in place and overpower you if he so chooses, but he’s letting you push him to his knees. “Oh, this is what you want?” he asks with his usual smirk, his hands already moving under your dress to squeeze at your thighs. “Ya could’ve just asked, sweetheart. I’ll do it if you ask me nicely.” 

You roll your eyes, letting a scoff escape your lips. The only way he’d listen to a request from you is if he relentlessly teased and embarrassed you first. You can easily picture the way he’d grin at you, and the condescending tone and words he’d use to make your fists tremble and skin flush. Yes, even if you asked nicely, begged sweetly, or even desperately, he’d use it to ruin you. 

“I’m not asking,” you say as you pull your dress up and over your head, tossing it to the floor beside you, because if Changbin is going to be between your legs, you want a full view of it. Rather than act though, he stays completely still, looking up at you with a lifted brow and not at all subtle smirk, as if to challenge you. A look that says ‘aren’t you going to make me?’ 

You bring your hand to his hair, tugging roughly as you pull him closer to your center, commanding him to get started. “So pushy, are you always this needy?” he teases with a laugh, but adheres to your demand nonetheless, wasting no time in letting his tongue out to lap at you, his hands now squeezing your thighs rougher than before. 

Your previous affairs were a secret you held close to your chest, as you knew you’d be branded a “whore” if it was known you’ve had sex whilst unwed. That being said, you’d only done the act with those you had serious interest in. Sweet men, who treated you like an angel, with the utmost care and consideration. Careful touches and soft kisses that were carried through all interactions with you. 

When they ate you out, they did so sweetly, with slow kitten licks and gentle caresses to your thighs. And it was nice, you even thought you liked it at the time, but you know that’s not what you want now. Everything about Changbin is different from every other man you’ve been with, and you want this moment to be different too. You want him to devour you, to make a mess of you, to make you feel a pleasure so foreign and intense that it consumes you. 

And that’s exactly what he grants you– a pleasure so explosive you have to bite your lip to hold back the noises that threaten to leave you. The drag of his tongue can only be described as euphoric, and when his lips wrap around your clit and suck, you can’t help but let out a loud, shuddering gasp. You want to keep watching him, but you can’t– your eyes refuse to stay open, the pleasure much too intense to do anything else.

He can tell you’re close when your thighs start twitching, quick breathy pants and whines leaving you freely. And that’s when he gets an evil idea– an idea that will make you desperate and whiny, one that will rip any semblance of control out from your hands and place it back into his. A strong suck on your clit, a few quick flicks of his tongue, your body trembling as your mind screams close, close, close–

And in an instant the feeling is gone, all the built up pleasure receding into nothing. A frustrated whine leaves your lips, looking down to see Changbin staring back at you with that stupid fucking smile he has every time he successfully drives you crazy. “F-Fuck, you fucking asshole, you–” you prattle off insults, though the act does nothing but add to the satisfaction he feels; this is exactly the reaction he was hoping for. 

You move your hand to the back of his head, pushing him back to where you want him and demanding that he keep going. And to your surprise, he does, though not without a muffled snicker first. And if your mind wasn’t so clouded by the desire to cum, you might have realized what his intentions were by going back in without a fight, but you didn’t have the mental capacity for that any longer. All you knew is that you wanted, needed, to release all over his tongue. 

Changbin goes through the same motions as before, expertly building you up to your release, getting you so, so close, before pulling away again right before you can. Another frustrated, high pitched whine leaves you, hips stuttering in an effort to feel something, anything to bring your release to you. You look down at him again, eyes glossy from the tears welling in them, and fuck, that look really does it for him. The pretty look of aggravation mixed with desperation makes his cock impossibly hard. 

You try to push him to your pussy again, but this time he resists, staying firmly in place and watching the way your expression twists into one of near anguish with an amused satisfaction. “Changbin–” your voice doesn’t come out anywhere near as stern and commanding as you wish it to; instead, his name leaves you as an urgent, desperate mewl.

“Aww, poor thing. Ya gonna cry?” he mocks you, head tilted and an infuriating grin plastered on his face. Fuck. You knew it wouldn’t be long until Changbin flipped the script and put you back at his mercy, but this soon?

And he didn’t know whether you were genuinely vying for control or not, if you went into this with the intent to fight until the bitter end or if you were resolved to relinquish it after some time; what he did know is that he loved seeing you like this. Broken almost, resolve crumbled like a sand castle hit by a wave, so weak and ruined, all because of him. 

“Want me to keep going?” he asks in a tone that is almost sickeningly sweet, another twisted smile of satisfaction on his face. You nod frantically, a shameless display of your need, and he smirks, answering your reaction with a condescending, “Why should I?” Another whine, hot tears rolling down your cheeks as indignation and desperation eat away at you. 

Changbin coos when he sees the tears fall, another “poor thing” leaving him. Funny how he’s the one on his knees, yet is the one entirely in control. You beg wantonly now, countless utterances of “please” and “I need it”, all sense of restraint and shame seeming to have evaporated the moment your tears began to fall. The display makes his cock throb in his trousers, erotic beyond words, utterly enthralling and so pretty. 

“Shh, that’s enough darlin’,” he says as he takes one of your legs and guides it over his shoulder, fully ready to support your weight and keep you standing for what he plans to do next.

You keen when his tongue finally makes contact with you again, body shuddering as your head lolls back. One arm snakes around the leg not propped up on him, squeezing at the flesh within his reach, while the other moves between your thighs, fingers prodding at your entrance for just a moment before sliding easily inside. 

He gives you no time to adjust to the thickness of his fingers, setting a fast pace with them from the very start. Your eyes roll back, a cacophony of lewd noises filling the space as your high quickly builds back up for the third time.

Between the earlier denied orgasms, the relentless pace he’s setting now with his fingers and the way his lips feel wrapped around your clit, you’re already dangerously close. Your fingers tangle in his hair, both as a means to ground yourself and to keep him as close to you as possible; and it only takes a few more thrusts of his fingers and flicks of his tongue to send you over the edge.

You cum hard, Changbin’s body and hold on your leg being the only thing keeping you upright as the waves of pleasure course through you. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your entire body shaking, with the only noise you’re capable of making being sharp gasps as your release spills on his tongue and fingers. 

You sink to the floor when he moves back and lets you go, legs akin to jello and no longer able to support your weight after having what was easily the most intense orgasm of your life. Your eyes are still closed, breathing labored as you try to bring your mind back down to earth. Changbin meanwhile rises to his feet, being the one to look down at you now. 

It’s a pretty sight; your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, tear stains on your cheeks and body flushed. But it could still be prettier, and he knows exactly how he wants to achieve that look. “Open your eyes, sweetheart,” you hear Changbin’s voice call to you from above, and when you do you’re met with quite the sight. 

His cock is in one of his hands, trousers having fallen to the floor around his ankles. You must have been too lost in your haze to hear him unzip his pants, or to hear the sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor. You look up at his face next, taking in the expectant gaze he’s shooting at you. 

You’re half tempted to say no, to make a big show out of protesting and coax him to put you back in your place, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want his cock in your mouth right now. It’s not often you’re granted the pleasure of sucking him off, as he usually he goes straight into fucking you after he’s done with his merciless teasing– so you’ll play the good girl role, just this once.

You shift to be fully on your knees, opening your mouth wide for him and letting your hands rest on his thighs. He brings a hand to the back of your head, pushing you the rest of the way when you hesitate, ensuring you take the entirety of his length in your mouth in one go. You gag when the tip touches your throat, but Changbin’s hand holds you in place, preventing you from instinctively retreating. 

The way you're looking up at him through your lashes, eyes glossy with fresh, unshed tears and nose touching his pubic bone– it’s enough to drive him wild. But he won’t lose it just yet; he’ll grant you a small kindness by giving you a few moments to adjust, to familiarize yourself with the feeling of his cock down your throat and learn how to breathe through it. He can’t let his favorite toy completely suffocate on him, after all. 

He sets a brutal pace once he’s sure you’re adjusted, sparing your poor throat no mercy. You can barely even hear the low groans he lets out over the salacious sounds leaving your mouth and throat. It’s a struggle not to choke and sputter every time he thrusts back into your mouth, and each failed attempt causes the tears on your lashes to spill over. 

The saliva that has pooled in your mouth escapes out of the sides, sliding down your chin and dripping onto your chest. You can’t help but squirm as he holds your head in place, your nails digging into his thighs as you try your hardest to ignore the growing ache in your jaw and effectively breathe through your nose. You can feel his cock twitch against your tongue as his pace becomes the slightest bit more sporadic, and for a moment you think he intends to cum down your throat, but he doesn’t. 

He pulls out instead, a subtle smirk on his face as he watches you take big, gulping breaths to allow air back into your lungs. You wipe your face clean with the back of your hand before you look up at him, knowing he’s far from done with you. He takes you in his arms, helping you rise to your feet (though you doubt he’s helping you due to any sort of caring, and is only doing it to get you where he wants you faster.)

“Come with me, darlin’,” he says as he leads you to the bed with him, paying no mind to the unsteadiness in your legs as you try to keep up with his pace. Changbin sits first, pulling you onto his lap immediately after. You already know what he wants, but you can’t– your knees ache from the time spent on the hard floor, and the usual strength in your legs has all but evaporated.

“Bin–” you start to whine, complaints lingering on your lips, but he tuts before you can even begin to speak them. “What’s wrong, sugar? Didn’t ya say you wanted to fuck me?”

Fucking asshole, throwing your words back at you and looking at you with that devilish smile. He should know you weren’t even that serious about it! He’s just being cruel. “I can’t, I–”

“You can,” he interrupts, guiding you to align yourself with him, “You will.” His hands are holding your hips, another expectant look on his face as he waits for you to sink down on him. “You’re so fucking mean–” you cry, body trembling as you lower yourself onto his cock. He just grins, knowing very well that if you truly hated how mean he was, you wouldn’t have crawled your way back to him. 

Your pace isn’t all that fast given the ache in your knees, but contrary to what you’d expect, Changbin doesn’t scold you. Instead, he cups your face under the chin, directing you to look at him. “So sweet, aren’t ya sugar?” he smiles, thumb rubbing your cheek while his other hand stays firmly on your hip, “such a brat sometimes, but you do whatever you're told in the end, don’t ya? Such a good girl when ya want to be, huh?” 

You should be ashamed of the way his words fill your stomach with butterflies, but you truly can’t help it. He knows what he’s doing too; knows how to drive you absolutely crazy, knows how to be mean in just the right way, so that when a praise hits your ears it affects you all the more. 

However, despite your best effort, you can’t get your legs to cooperate with you any further. Your legs feel so heavy, and having your hands firmly placed on Changbin’s chest for support does nothing to ease the unsteady trembling. It’s a subtle sort of humiliation– making you do something he knows is near impossible in your current state.

The tears are welling in your eyes again and threatening to spill, frustration in your gut and exhaustion completely taking over your body. Your legs throb from the exertion and fatigue, your energy beyond spent, you can’t keep going. Your pace slows to a near stop, and you look at him pleadingly, teary eyed and pouty, a silent beg for his help. 

He knew you wouldn’t be able to do it for long, but he made you do it anyway, because this is what he really wanted. He wanted to watch you turn into a pathetic, whining mess, he wanted to relish the look of anguish on your face. He has to be cruel to you, because the end result is always so addicting. 

“Tell me what you need, baby. Need my help? Need me to fuck you?” he smiles sweetly as he asks, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. You nod quickly, leaning into his touch that shouldn’t at all be comforting but somehow is in your near-delirious state. “Use your voice, sweetheart. I gotta hear you say it.”

God, he loves when you get to this point– where all anger and shame has been replaced by the overwhelming desire and need you feel for him. You’re babbling out pleas over and over, and he takes a moment to savor the sound of it before shushing you. “Hush now, darlin’, I’ll give ya what you want.” 

He flips your positions easily, you landing on your back against the mattress and Changbin now hovering over you. You stare up at him as he sinks back into you, the sight of him making your heart race. It’s infuriating how handsome he is, especially in moments like this, where sweat lingers on his brow and his jaw clenches. 

Changbin is good at acting unaffected by you, always able to make it seem like he’s not at all enthralled or addicted, always making your need for him appear one-sided. But the truth is he needs you just as bad as you need him, because in you he has finally found his perfect match. You wanted him to crave you solely, to look for you and only you, not knowing that he already was. 

He didn’t seek you out all those times after your lucky re-encounter because it was easy or convenient; it’s because it was you, specifically. He’s no stranger to brothels and bordellos, nor to the coy advances of working women. There are countless women in the world, countless establishments he could spend his coin at to satiate himself, but they weren’t you. All he wants and all he needs, the very picture of perfection, you. 

He leans down, capturing your lips in a sensual kiss as he starts to thrust in earnest, and the act makes your stomach twist. He’s kissed you before of course, but only ever with the intent to tease or humiliate you, and never while his cock was inside you. And you don’t know why, but it feels good. He can tell you like it too, by the way you clench around him, and from the way a pleasured noise he’s never heard before leaves your throat. 

He keeps his lips attached to yours, tongues sloppily rubbing together. His fingers dig into your hips as he fucks into you, his tight hold leaving indentations behind in your skin. Changbin curses under his breath when he pulls away, both of your highs quickly approaching. You’re squeezing him so tight, and the feeling of your nails digging into his skin is intoxicating. 

“Fuck, ‘m so close-” he groans, pace quickly becoming more sporadic. And this is normally the point he’d pull out, letting his cum spill between your thighs or onto your chest and stomach, but.. He looks at you, and all he can think about is how you’re his. He wants no one else to have you, no one else to touch you, no one to even look at you the way he does. 

So instead, he pulls you in even closer, your chest firmly pressed into his as he presses his lips to your ear. “Gonna cum in you darlin’. You’d like that, right? Want me to fill you up?” You gasp at his words, one that transitions into a moan as your arms and legs wrap snuggly around him. It’s a bad fucking idea, but you want it so bad. 

Whatever the consequences are, you’re too far gone to care about them. You want him to claim you in all ways; his teeth, his nails, his cum– it didn’t matter, so long as you were his in the end. “Y-Yes, please, I want it,” your answer comes out between shuddering inhales, desperate and eager for Changbin to release inside you. 

It only takes a few more thrusts for him to spill inside you, the sensation of his cum shooting in you both foreign but good beyond what you ever could’ve imagined. His hips don’t stop moving even as he cums, and the continued thrusts paired with the feeling of being filled up for the first time sends you over the edge too, body convulsing in his hold as pure pleasure fills your senses. 

You’re both breathless when you finally come down from your high, body going limp as you release Changbin from your hold. He pulls out slowly, and fuck, the sight of his cum dripping out of your hole is utterly intoxicating; he’s definitely going to become addicted to it. He lies next to you when he’s done admiring the view, looking at your face next with a subtle smile.

“What do ya think about being my lady? Hmm, baby?” he asks as he pulls you in, pressing your body into his as his arm wraps around your waist. You blink as you process it, a sort of warmth overtaking your body as the question settles in you.

“...Are you serious?” you can’t help but ask, unsure if this is going to transition into some sort of tease if you say yes, or if the question is genuine. 

“Dead serious, darlin’,” Changbin answers easily, his smile the most earnest you’ve ever seen it to be. Not at all condescending, no trace of a humiliating remark waiting to be said; he’s simply asking you a question, with nothing more beyond it.

And he wouldn’t say it’s love that drives him to make you his, because genuine love is a foreign thing to a man like him, but this is likely the closest he’ll ever get. He just wants to know you’ll always be there, that you’d follow him anywhere he goes, that no matter where life takes the two of you, you’ll belong to him and he’ll belong to you. 

And fuck, it’s a really bad idea. You really, really shouldn’t– you should know better. So why are you entertaining the idea? Why does the thought of spending your days with someone so objectively terrible make you so happy?

He’s really fucking ruined you, it seems. He’s a terrible man who does terrible things, he’s a criminal, he’s a manipulator– your immediate answer should be a resounding “no.” But the truth of the matter is that Changbin makes you feel like no one else; infuriated but desired, broken but simultaneously put together.

You’ve come to enjoy the dynamic you have with him; you now understand the fun in the back and forth, the pleasure to be had in the banter and fight, how impossible it is to let someone who matches your energy go. And a life with him would surely be a life of turmoil, of danger and of risk, but it would also be one of pleasure and unforeseen excitement.

Your life was good before meeting him, but it was also dull and predictable. You were likely to spend your whole life in the same place, forever at the beck and call of your parents, or a man that while sweet, wouldn’t excite or please you the way Changbin does. If you say yes, your life will change forever. 

No, that’s not quite true; your life already has been forever altered by meeting him. You’re already his, and this is nothing more than a formality. Because why else would you be here right now, if you weren’t already his? For better or worse, you belong to him, body and soul, and you’ve come to realize that nothing will change it.

“Teach me how to use a gun and I’m all yours,” you finally say, and Changbin laughs, clearly pleased with the answer you came to. “You got it, darlin’. Just promise ya won’t shoot me by the time we’re done.” 

“No promises. I’d be careful if I were you,” you smile, tone light and playful. “Is that a threat, sugar?” he meets your smile with one of his own, tilting his head to the side as he always does when he’s amused.

“Sure is. Don’t pretend you don’t deserve it,” you answer, and he laughs again, pulling you into a kiss afterwards. Body to body, limbs tangled together as you smile at each other, he thinks about what a perfect partner in crime you’ll be from here on out.

[marengogo]

if said content was from someone whose account name was related to thinking my best friend and i were romantically involved, i'd check out the account before reposting (even if the content i was planning on reposting didn't have anything to do with said shipping thoughts)

i don't blame th, but i do wish he checked the account 😞

TW: mention of triggering words/actions such as “rape” but not the actual action.

Hi Anon,I hope you can forgive me for using your post to address a topic I've been meaning to discuss. The following has absolutely nothing like for real 💜🙏🏾 against you, but it kinda sets the perfect scenario, so imma take advantage it. BUT imma offer you a jikook hug in exchange, hope you can accept this for your very honest and not blaming frustration 🥹🫰🏾💜

So the topic is: SHIPPING.

Remember that chapter 2 blog which I promised, but NEVER delivered? 🤡🤡🤡 Yeah, so,shipping was going to be one of the many subsections of that blog, which to be honest with you, is sitting unfinished in my draft, and most likely will stay like that … BUT, luckily for me not sure for y’all 😬😬 today serves itself as a perfect day to actually give it an applicable context. Through today's familiar mayhem, I read a post which I think will give the perfect context to the topic of shipping. It is a post from @akookminsupporter, the following one:

I actually happen to agree with this 100%, because I do agree that we don’t want the people we stan to directly, or indirectly, endorse problematic situations, particularly those that are recognised as such universally. For example:

GENOCIDE a UNIVERSALLY KNOWN ISSUE and NOT DEBATABLE PROBLEM

RAPE a UNIVERSALLY KNOWN ISSUE and NOT DEBATABLE PROBLEM 

RACIAL SLURS a UNIVERSALLY KNOWN ISSUE and NOT DEBATABLE PROBLEM 

You get my point.

Now when it comes to shipping, it is WITHOUT A DOUBT one of the greatest plights within our fandom in particular, but in reality it is an issue in kpop and other music genres as a whole. Yet, the reality is that shipping is indeed a traditional tool REALLY HATE CALLING IT THAT BUT … that is almost always used as a means to a common and popular end. So the questions are: 

Do fans within the kpop fandom consider it an issue? Yes and No. 

Do people outside the kpop fandom consider it an issue? … Do they even know about it, or about it being a serious issue, within its perimeter?

Do the idols consider it an issue? … Yes? and No?

In its entirety, as all the questions don’t actually have a universally unanimous answer, SHIPPING in general, as of 17 January 2024, can’t be considered a universally known and agreeable issue. BUT, in the case of kpop, the situation is much worse. To begin with, we are unable to definitively agree on whether, or not, shipping is actually an issue to begin with, or not; be it the idol or the shipper. Nobody, in their right mind, is out there making jokes about, for example, genocide. If they are, they will righteously face big ass consequences by almost ANYONE who stumbles upon said comment/s. Shipping, on the other hand, the only people who would care, are the people within said field/environment. But, as I am a very integral part of this fandom, I know that, for us, it has become quite a nerve wracking issue, so let’s go a bit deeper.

Let’s go with the generally known concept within kpop that a debuting band is very likely to engage in fanservice and, consequently, form ships. The idols know, the fans know. Then, let’s give it 4 years? More or less many bands decided that “you know what? I don’t need to do this anymore” and as a consequence, some have tried to address this subject, and some just pretend to not know anymore. No matter the choice, the fact still remains that their related shippers were created, toxic or not, and 9 out of 10 cases; they ain’t going nowhere.

In the case of BTS, it is actually very funny because the only person who has allegedly tried to address this, is the one person who is constantly under fire for “feeding his shippers”. What is even funnier, to me at least, is that none of his 6 members actually came out to back him up, the day he challenged his viewers regarding shipping, at least not that I recall, if you know of any members that was actually supporting Tae, please let me know. So, if none of my bandmates seem to find it an imminent problem because let’s be honest, they had to deal with far bigger shit, apparently, and the company seems to not find it a panic-worth problem, apparently, then, if I were Tae, I’d be initially hella frustrated, but eventually I’d be like: FUCK IT. Which is the mentality I honestly think they all end up applying, in the kpop world.

So, what EXACTLY IS considered shipping? 

Repeatedly mentioning the name of a shipped/rival member? Posting pictures with a shipped/rival member? Touching a shipped/rival member? Spending time with shipped/rival member? Standing next to a shipped/rival member? Etc. Just so you know, If any, or all, of these qualify with shipping, then maknae line is UNIVERSALLY within our fandom FUCKED, and yes, only them, because, let’s be real, not many care about the shipping involving the hyung line, even though they do engage in the same type of behaviour … except for Yoongi, he is kinda in the middle, like some sort of collateral damage. 

So then what should we do? Should we completely ban shipping? Should shipping be banned maybe 4 years after the debut of all groups? Or should shipping have regulations, some kind of universal judge that presides and guides shipping behaviour? Should shipping fanfictions be abolished? Should unit names be restricted to the sole use of members? Should members cut out time in their life to make sure that they are aware of shipping and their consequences? Soooooo many questions, and probably tooooooo many answers, but the one fact still remains that MOST LIKELY these are all issues for those consuming the provided “shipping content” but not for those providing said “shipping content”, because for example:

And here I will be applying the parent/guardian/teacher/authority figure test, as in , for the next set of examples would any of the aforementioned figures be alarmed? Following are my test results  on whose problem it is, between the fandom and its idol.

A JM fan-dedicated birthday party, being crashed by rival shippers: Shippers problems. JM’s mail being stolen: Park Jimin problem, because tbh it could have been anyone, not necessarily a shipper.

JK having to look at a poster saying that he is in love with Tae at the airport: Shippers problems. JK having an actual stalker: Jeon Jungkook problem, because tbh it could have been anyone, not necessarily a shipper.

Tae posting a picture with an shipped/rival member: Shippers problems. Tae finding a girl in his private lift with a marriage certificate: Kim Taehuing problem, because tbh it could have been anyone, not necessarily a shipper.

And don’t get me wrong: name dragging, defaming, lying,character bashing, graphic obscenity, etc, they are all very painful issues to witness, and endure, but it always mainly occurs within the kpop environment. When articles write about perhaps a lazy member, when other fandoms drag our favs to pieces, in the end, when the global announcements are made, none of those descriptive, obscene qualities follow. Grammy nominated BTS, is just Grammy nominated BTS, not paving crew Grammy nominated BTS, or “worst fandom” fuck y’all possessing Grammy nominated BTS. ‘Namean?

Furthermore, the truth probably is that, at the level of BTS, the artist DOESN’T HAVE TO SEE ANY OF THAT BULLSHIT, which is why it ultimately ends up being an “US” issue. Even when toxic shippers reach higher entities, like the company, government offices etc, the second these entities see that it is about a ship, after I am hoping due diligence, they are dismissed, pronto. And so, reiterating, we are left with the bulk of it all 🤡🤡🤡.

So if, taking today as an example, Tae sees a post ABOUT HIMSELF not even his ship, just himself, by one of his shippers, we can assume that he has a pretty good idea about what might be on their page, which to be very honest, I won’t blame him for not wanting to check, but obviously, given all that we’ve been discussing, the idol themself is probably made to not have to think about it at all, as it is considered accepted, not acceptable, behaviour.  ALSO they would leave any related, and/or possible issues, to a designated team, which will assess if there is or not a real threat. Because historically, thus far at least, if there were any life-threatening hazards the company seems to take it VERY SERIOUSLY and any other threat is also dealt with accordingly. 

But what if, for example, by not checking the shipper’s page, Tae had allowed a human trafficking account to prolifer?! … let’s not 🧢:

TODAY, nobody was angry because of the fact that him not checking the page meant that he could have missed a potential infringement of human rights.

AND If they were a  human trafficking page, why is IG allowing them a platform and not quickly doing something about it?

In addition to the fact that, it is a real thing that, CURRENTLY, the accounts that are most likely to post about Tae aren't OT7s nor his biased fans (they may not be that fast or have the numbers) not even tae solos (for lack of numbers or different immediate priorities, such as streaming) but, you guessed it, taekook shippers. Hence, his algorithm will reflect accordingly. 

I mean, are we to tell JM to stop affectionately hug his members? Do we dare telling jk to stop liking shipping tiktoks or mention members' names? ….

All that just to say that @ejassy, in reality and effectively, by reposting said story, Tae wasn't actually endorsing shipping, because shipping in SK, differently from smoking or doing drugs, is generally not frowned upon. It is not an action or message that needs any kind of endorings, because within the kpop world, those who use it as a tool do not consider it a problem, hence, it is very openly accepted as a part of the culture they willingly, or not, help create. 

“But so-and-so gets dragged viciously, and disgustingly, everyday” I know. They probably know as well, but I’ve already discussed their responsible personnel. As for us, we know what to do, report report report! . I mean, I’m sure that they have a PR team that tells them about the good trends or good SM news, achievements, etc. “So what? .. we fans are stuck with toxic shippers and our favs not acknowledging or doing anything about it?” … 🤡🤡🤡

I don’t know.

We mostly all know about shipping culture’s systematic past, we know about its problematic present. In all honesty, it feels a bit like a lost battle but recently Kpop fans were able to make it known that, for example, for good reasons, they are against Starbucks. And it very effectively got to their idols, because said fans were united and in agreement. But within the shipping world, they all hate the other shipper and at the same time they kinda don't want to stop their own shipping, because they are really not against it, in fact, perhaps, they’d like some boundaries set, but who is to decide said boundaries? OR should shipping be considered a universal issue? … I think shipping has actually become an issue, particularly when regarding the queer community, BUT, what do I know, right? So, what's the solution ....

Y’all tell me.

Always respectfully yours,

Marengo.

PS - Once again, thank you Anon, now I'm off to bed 😴😴😴

[whatiwishfanfiction]

Chapter Five is up!

Preview:

It’s rare that a fantasy comes true just as you’re fantasizing about it, but that’s just what happened when Once-ler’s wagon rolled over the next hill. Not only did the scene happen to be extraordinary, but it came at such a coincidental time of desperate wishfulness that Once-ler was ripped straight from his daydreams and his eyes filled with tears immediately.

PEACE! FREEDOM! INSPIRATION! it screamed all at once.

Such a heavy feeling of serenity and joy descended upon his soul that he knew immediately he was where he was meant to be. It took less than a second to decide this was home, and he would never change his mind for the rest of his days. A smile spread across his face, the kind that was so big it hurt.

The valley he overlooked was a forest, but not like the forest at home. He’d never dreamed a forest could be so different. Where the one behind his farm was small, dry, and gray, the one below stretched beyond the horizon, filled with the brightest green grass and dark blue water full of lily pads, duckweed, and cattails.

Wispy trees and bushes bloomed with pink, yellow, and orange silken foliage that filled his nose with sugary sweetness. Instead of being empty and boring, as if animals would rather be anywhere less desolate, it buzzed with bees, butterflies, frogs, and fish he could see even from his vantage atop the highest hill. A sense of adventure and endless discovery pierced his heart as Once-ler's wagon rolled deeper down into Heaven.

So this was how forests were supposed to be. Every choice he’d made up to that point had been right after all, if it had led him to this. When the wagon reached the bottom of the hill, the yodels died on his lips, and he threw his guitar in the back. “Come on, Melvin,” he said, leading the mule along. The forest only became more interesting from there.

Ho-li-ah Ho-le-rah-hi-hi-ah Ho-le-rah-cuckoo Fol-de-rol, laddie right Toor-a-lie-addy

“Wait, who’s singing? Oh, wow!” Once-ler stood in awe as he watched a trio of fat yellow and orange fish dancing atop a rock, using their fins as legs. They held hands, spinning with their eyes closed, occasionally kicking out their fins or breaking away to do an Irish jig.

“Bizarre,” he said, checking over his shoulder just in case it was some kind of trick. “Does anyone else even know this exists?”

A yellow butterfly soared past with wings the size of book pages. The dark spots on its wings looked like a cow's. It landed on a flower where a frog strolled by on its hind legs and started milking it into an acorn cap.

"Oh my goodness!" Once-ler hopped up and down. "I think I just stumbled upon a completely undiscovered habitat!" After his life at home, he'd begun to think there was no such thing as anything new or exciting.

"Magnificent," he said, tears filling his eyes as a swarm of orange swans flew over his head under sun-tinted clouds. They soared, then dipped, taking a dive alongside a waterfall that roared ominously.

~*~

Follow me for the rest of the rewrite! (I'm going to post new chapters every week).

I can't wait to get to the part about the Lorax. I'm going to write him so much differently than the movie that made him a useless smart aleck. I always thought he should be more mysterious and fae-like. Gonna try to make it like something Tolkien or Holly Black would write. This story is really fun to write!

[eyrina-avatar]

Just read your shifting post. And I feel like I struggle with lucid dreaming now that my frontal lobe developed. It sucks. Do you have any advice for newbies who are attempting to shift? It’s all very new to me! Thank you in advance🫡😚💙

Hello! First of all, I want to say that I think I've stumbled upon your acc somewhere else and I thought you were a shifter because of the oc as your pfp... I guess I was right hehe🤭

also, do you mean that you wanted to use the lucid dreaming method to shift, because ofc shifting is not a lucid dream but ld can be used to shift

anyways, I think the best thing to do is to keep a positive mindset no matter what and to think of it as easy and simple, don't try to overcomplicate it

Here is a post I made when someone else asked me how do I shift:

| post | (it has some methods in there)

Anyways this response is extremely long, hopefully it's helpful:

Now as for lucid dreaming(ld), there are many ways to do it:

one. wbtb method

-set an alarm for 4-5 hrs for after when you fall asleep and then sleep. when the alarm wakes you up, get out of bed and do something (go to the bathroom, maybe do a reality check, practice what you're going to do in your ld/ how you're going to shift etc, just try to wake yourself up a bit for 5-10 minutes. You can even think about lucid dreaming or whatever. If you have a hard time falling back asleep then stay up for just 5 minutes. Or if you have a really hard time, then just stay in bed awake for those 5 minutes. Anyways, go back to bed lay down and start affirming "I'm aware I'm dreaming" over and over again until you fall asleep. From there you'll either get right into the lucid dream while still awake, you'll feel like you're getting sucked into the dream and feel your mind zooming in and out until you're in the dream straight from the awake stage and so ofc you'll be lucid. OR you'll fall asleep and your dream will be lucid. If not try again next time (but I've had good success with this method.

two. supplements

-for legal purposes, i'm not responsible or advising anyone to take any sort of medicine.

Use galantamine(I got mine from amazon). Take the recommended amount which is like 4-5mg. How to use: go to bed and set an alarm for your REM stage(4-5hrs) fall asleep, wake up with the alarm, take the galantamine and immediately try to fall asleep as fast as you can before it starts taking effect and prevents you from falling asleep which is the main problem I have from it since I had insomnia for a while so the extra boost from galantamine didn't help my sleeping problem. It's best to have the galantamine somewhere next to your bed with a glass of water. wake up, drink it and fall back asleep as fast as you can and your dream should be lucid. Only use the galantamine once a week or at least 5 days of spacing between uses so the effects don't ware off.

three. lay down, close your eyes and start moving them left and right for about 10-15 minutes until you feel like you're ready(don't move during this process so make sure you choose a comfortable position. This will trick your body into thinking that you're in REM stage. You can probably fall asleep from there(which will most likely give you a lucid dream or you continue on. When you feel like it's enough, try opening your eyes and you'll feel your body go stiff and like you can't move: sleep paralysis. From sleep paralysis, just affirm that you're in your dr or try to visualize it while affirming. You should shift quickly.

four. subliminals

use lucid dream subliminals 2-3x a day while doing anything (or at night before sleeping- it doesn't matter when you listen to it) and then at night your dream should be lucid.

top subliminals on youtube that work well:

a. lucid dream . -by V1PER

b. 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒·˚ ༘improved perilously forced lucid dreaming subliminal (LISTEN ONCE) -by kiraミズキ's domain

you can listen to it more than once

c. ❝Dreaming°// Lucid Dream Package [sᴜʙʟɪᴍɪɴᴀʟ] by Enchanted Workshop

d. ♡ Lucid Dreaming Listen Once Noonchi Subliminals by シ Jay's Nirvana ヅ (the original uploader deleted their channel but this subliminal still works)

⎯⎯⎯

Using subliminals are really easy, use it, don't doubt it and don't waiver and be like "omg when are results gonna come....is this working...I don't think it's working...I don't have results" blah blah blah because then it won't work since you're repeating that and your mind will believe those doubts since the mind is stronger than any subliminal. Just listen 2-3x and don't worry or stress about it. Best to just assume it's working and that you have results and you should be good to go.

You can also use shifting subliminals as well

As for techniques, I already gave you a link earlier on in this post but you can also use the julia method, sunni method, raven method, 5 senses method. Or you can just lay down, relax and calm down then start visualizing that you're in your dr (1st person pov ofc) and think about how things look like in front of you, some noises you might hear, some things you might smell, how the round under you feels like etc and then start affirming that you're in your dr while continue to visualize. That has honestly gotten me pretty close plenty of times.

Sorry this was so long (I know all of my shifting posts are😅). If you want any shifting sub recommendations just lmk or if you have any more questions, just hmu in my inbox or whatever❤️

.ೃ࿐୨⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯୧

[therulerofdreamland]

Hello everybody or anyone reading this particular post, Triple D here! I haven’t really had time & motivation to continue the Deltarune “Side Chapter” Concept. I felt like the Sir-ment post was lazy entirely with the little art pieces, concept art, doodles, etc. that were lacking in that post & how I typed in the post I wasn’t really proud of particularly. I really want to do more concepts with “The Beak” & Sir-ment when I get the chance & motivation too! After I get used to drawing & getting more concepts done with Beak & Sirment, I want to work on the other two guardsmen out of the four that will be in this “Side Chapter” concept for Deltarune.

Other than that, I was recently invited to a stream by a really cool person by the name of Pommpeii. It was a really fun night because I got to know more people, laugh, & have fun. The stream was compiled into an amazing video, I recommend you go check it out! “The Beak” makes a heavy appearance, when I pitch an idea where “The Beak” should be cloned to clean the streets up & make it to everyone’s heart! <3

Check it out here -> https://youtu.be/RiJEHF6J5Zw?si=VIjp0l17GAxL62zo

That’s all I wanted to talk about in this quick little update, thank you so much for reading! For anyone who is new & just stumbled upon this post, I recommend you give a little read to the Deltarune “Side Chapter” Concept with all my fun little characters I used to draw when I started doing art!

-> https://www.tumblr.com/therulerofdreamland/756418773379137536/deltarune-side-chapter-concept-the-beak

[meraki-yao]

Thank you for acknowledging the post!

And I just wanted to clarify that I DO see the racism towards Taylor. I don't want it to seem that I ignore it. And I'm sorry if I did. I was just wanting to explain that, IN THIS CASE with Nick and all that stuff they say about him not liking RWRB, what does racism have to to do with it (and yes, you said it on your post, so thank you.) And it's ok that you posted it. It's just, they've used that defense so much, that I just associate it with them (like a Pavlov thing???) and it becomes annoying (???; Pulling the racism card when there isn't). Like, defend against the racism when IT IS about racism, not when people are simple trying to defend the allegations (from stupid people) that 'Nick hates RWRB'. And I admit, I was angry when I wrote the post, so I wasn't completely thinking about racism. And I just didn't want you to get the 'they're being racist towards Taylor' accusations because I know you're not and I love your posts!

I typed a lot, so... the point that I'm trying to make is that I'm sorry if I gave off the impression that Taylor doesn't go through racism. He does, sadly. 😡

And also,🤭, the twitter account user (njwoman on tumblr), took of the pinned post claiming to support both of them. Like, finally realizing your own hypocrisy? I had to go back a couple of times to check to see it it was true. Anyway, enough of that.

You don't have to posts this, I just wanted to let you know what a difference your post made. To the twitter account user (obviously; if they even saw it too, or was it just a coincidence?) and to me (and hopefully to other people too). It made me feel... it just calmed my mind.😌 It's great when there's people in the fandom who can THINK. (And sorry to making this like a big deal, like I know they're celebrities in Hollywood but... the hate they both get -two kind-hearted, talented human beings- is crazy!! And when they get compared to each other...?!?!? WHY?!?! Stupid!!!! *SIGHS* I really am a sensitive person...)

I should've have put this on the main post, but again, I was angry and it was late at night for me, LOVE TAYLOR, NICK, AND RWRB. BOTH perfectly casted!!! BOTH talented!!! And BOTH will have a GREAT future!!!

Oh you're welcome! Really glad I could help 😊

Also to clarify I didn't think you were ignoring actual racism, I just wanted to clarify that on my part. Like you said, racist should be called out, but that doesn't apply to this situation.

Also about the account, turns out they follow me before, but after i got your ask, i checked their tumblr account, realized the same attitude was there and blocked them. So whatever change of heart was definitely not because of what i wrote.

Also don't apologize for typing too much, god knows i type a hell lot.. And thank you for enjoying my posts!

And again, I'm really glad I could help.

This is advice that goes to anyone who stumbles upon arguments like these: your best defence, both against them, and to protect yourself, is logic. Everything I said in the aforementioned ask is based on logic and evidence. They only have emotionally charged, biased speculations. Their arguments can be broken down so easily.

Unfortunately this is the way things tend to be in this industry, especially for queer productions for some reason. All we can do is keep enjoying and creating the happiness that the movie and the people involved brings.

Also, that last paragraph? HELL YEAH

[danpuff-ao3]

violent ask game... 8, 10 and 12 pls? :)

Also... don't be scared, fandom is not half as violent as people imply... most of the time :)

Hello there! Thanks for these! 😄

8.) common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

Hmmm! My mind sort of immediately jumps to anti-shipping 😂 That's the biggest thing I would say is common to see that I would also call wrong. The only thing people's reading/writing preferences tell you is that they enjoy reading or writing that thing. That's it. No one's a bad person for reading/writing content that makes you uncomfortable.

10.) worst part of fanon

Gosh. Partly I think confusing fanon for canon but, specifically, when people are wrong and want to argue about it. Now I will admit I'm a big lover of "Snape as Draco's godfather." I know some people don't like it, and I understand why they don't, but I will eat it up like candy! However: I know it's not canon. Also: I'm not gonna fight anyone about it. AND: on the off chance I did spout nonsense and found out I was wrong, I wouldn't double down. I'd go fact check myself and be like "oops my bad, you right." It's bad enough when people wanna get up in arms over fandom of all things, but it's worse when you're doing it when you're WRONG.

12.) the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

SNAPE. SNAPE. SEV-ER-US SNAPE.

This feels weird because I'm obviously in the Snapedom and am surrounded by much Snape love, but...I feel like he's a character people either love or hate with very little in between.

I stumble upon Snaters in the wild and get my feelings hurt because Severus Snape was my first love. (I read the books when I was like 7 and it was love at first sight, okay?) (And I turn 31 on Monday, if that tells you anything.)

Reddit post: "List of Reasons Snape is the WORST" me: yeah I know, don't you see why I love him??

For me it's sort of twofold. The best reason I can probably sell people with is that he's a complex character. The complexity gets lost a bit when people are so hellbent on painting the portrait of a "tragic hero" or a "terrible villain." Our man has layers, okay? Like an onion.

Is he nasty and rude and cruel? Yep. Is he also intelligent and passionate and devoted? Also yep. Did he do some really fucked up shit? Yep. Did he also do some really good deeds? Also yep. This man runs the dang spectrum! Join some blood supremacists? Yikes. Die in the war effort to save the world? Okay that part I don't want to talk about, I'm still not over it.

He had horrible, terrible things happen to him. He grew up in poverty. He was in a neglectful, if not abusive environment. He was bullied in school, and sexually assaulted. But he wasn't a "good" victim, see. He wasn't a sweet lil fella. He wasn't fragile; he was sharp. And he wasn't exactly likable; which made all attacks on him seemingly "excusable." So yeah, we can see why he went down a dark path. It's not okay by any means, but surely one can understand it.

And when it came down to it, he changed his mind. A lot of people nowadays can't do that. It's hard to change your ways, and say "hey I was wrong, I'm turning away from this now." But he did. And he put himself in danger to spy on Voldemort. And yeah, this very traumatized dude went on to traumatize other people. Hurt people hurt people, as they say. But he tried. He gave so much of his time and his life to righting his wrongs.

His life was spent in suffering. All the abuse he endured. The disdain. Then his own self-hatred when he realized where he went wrong. And those wounds never healed. He was forever haunted by his pain, and by his mistakes.

Which sort of leads me to my second point: he's not perfect. He's not an easy person to love. But he's so terribly human. He's just a man who was put through the crucible time and again. He wasn't perfect. He never became this handsome, flawless gentleman. There is so much to him! There is enough to judge and hate, sure, but there's also plenty to love. And this is such a strong case of....people aren't all good or bad. His good and his bad are both so clear! And I can't get enough of it, I stg. I love this man. Truly just adore him.

[yippie-ki-yay]

Writing for My Faves

This has been sitting in my doc since the last time I posted, though I thought it would be a good way to get back into things!

These are just some random headcanons for my favorite characters in the series! Not really cohesive and more so just me rambling. Hope you enjoy!!

[DEIMOS]

Yeah y’all saw this one coming

So!! Dei was kind of the character that got me into MadCom, or at least he’s the one who’s caught my interest the most when I watched the episodes and got into the fandom side of things. 

I even have a little crochet doll of him, but that’s besides the point-

Onto the headcanons!!

I imagine Deimos to find some comfort with things pertaining to fire. This kind of ties in with his pyrokinesis, but it’s less ‘setting things on fire’ (not that he hasn’t done that before) and more him finding a sense of peace in how the flames move. 

Picks things up extremely fast! While he’s mainly focused his skills on guns and tech, those aren’t the only things he’s good at. Kind of has a ‘jack of all trades’ approach to a lot of things.

The most energetic of the group! Even if he can be a little shit sometimes, Deimos makes a point to keep the team’s morale up. 

Is definitely the type to check on the others every now and then, but keeps his own issues buried deep. A bad habit from his time in the Agency. 

Speaking of the Agency!! Deimos has a bit of a tendency to get nightmares due to some specific events. It’s easy to tell if he’s had one depending on his body language the night of/morning after. 

[AGENT TORTURE]

Was he only in one episode? Yes. Will I still die for the man? Yes

Like a lot of the other characters in the series I like, it’s hard to pinpoint why he caught my eye. Maybe it’s the fandom side of things??

Whatever the reason, big man definitely has a spot on this list. 

He’s not much of a talker. It’s mainly due to the giant nails stuck through his head, but Torture mainly communicates through growls, grunts, hums, and maybe the occasional word if none of the above gets the message across. 

Easily irritated. Save for a few special people, if you piss him off you’re likely not going to be leaving the area alive. 

Would probably prefer to leave the Agency, though due to his power and subsequent usefulness to them that likely isn’t going to happen anytime soon. 

The only way to stop him from rampaging (other than completely evacuating the building) is to ‘calm him down’. This normally means trying (and usually failing) to sedate him, but there are other means of bringing him back from those fits of rage! 

I’m not sure why, but I also kinda get the vibe that Torture likes to stargaze. They stand out a lot more that far into the desert, and he likely doesn’t get to see them, much less outside in general, so it’s always nice to be able to do it when he gets the chance. 

All in all he’s not as bad as the name would lead you to believe, but there’s also a very good reason as to why he’s called something like that. 

[DIRECTOR PHOBOS]

Funnily enough I didn’t start off being down bad for Phobos, in fact the whole god complex thing kind of annoyed me, but I stumbled upon a certain series that changed my opinion on the dude. (Link the ‘player’ series here!!!)

I guess the idea of someone so powerful being so weak over another person just gets me. 

I don’t think this one’s really a headcanon, but Phobos definitely has a god complex. 

Really doesn’t like letting go of power or being perceived as weak. Doesn’t tolerate anyone badmouthing him - any infractions on this are met with violent, if not lethal means of punishment. 

While he’d never outright admit it, there’s definitely the possibility that he holds a soft spot for some of the crew that works under him. 

Going off of the above point, that can either be a good or bad thing! While he won’t actively go out of his way just to look for mess ups, should anything bigger than a small mistake be uncovered? The repercussions would likely be worse than if you were on the same level as the rest. 

Basically he won’t seek to punish you as often or for the little things, but Phobos also holds you to a higher standard than the rest. 

[SKINNER M.D.]

Back at it again with the Skinner content-

I really don’t know what it is about him, but after seeing what little fanart there is of him and just seeing how fucking adorable he is, Skinner quickly made it onto this list. 

Again, still haven’t played through the mode he shows up in, but I’m getting there!!

He’s honestly such a sweetie. Skinner’s exceptionally careful both in his work and in general life. Because of his size some degree of caution is needed, but it’s almost unbelievable how conscientious he can be. 

While he’s normally a little silly, Skinner is dead serious when it comes to his job. That humor comes back after all is said and done, but he’s extremely focused while he’s working. 

100% has a little jar of lollipops/other candy in his office. Even if you don’t take one he’s going to offer every single time. 

Where does he get them? No one knows. 

A little bit of a neat freak. It comes with the territory, being a doctor (or as close as you can get) and all, he doesn’t want to risk anyone ending back up in his office due to infection or bad practice. 

A complete and utter worrywart. Even if you get something as simple as a tiny scrape/bruise/cut it’s getting treated. No arguments >:(

[sutcliffe-v]

| Admin Info

Blogs

; @poohwhin — personal

; @deux-ombre — art

; @sakamaki-richter — canon

; @deciipula — other oc blog

Admin Aesthetic

Name

; venwhin | whin | literally whatever idgaf SKSK

Age

; 19 ( i have the mental and emotional capacity of a toddler)

Gender/Pronouns

; Nonbinary ( i’m just vibing so perceive me however. or don’t perceive me at all actually ) | They/Them

Occupation

; failing artist | professional screamer | ceo of creating things then abandoning them halfway through

Other Facts

; i am mentally ill and anxious. if that shows through text™️ i apologise SKSK.

; social cues aren’t my strong suit so pls tell me if i say/interpret smth wrong or smth you don’t understand!

; i’m broke™️

; if i say i’m going to do something there’s a chance it won’t be done for a solid year.

; i suck at this art thing but if you’ve been here long enough you might see some improvement.

; i’m actually out of it or delirious during most conversations so i may or may not start spewing shit that doesn’t make sense sksk.

; don’t trust anything i say after 10pm, if you’re flabbergasted that’s on you /j

; i’m a pro at making up words on the spot, some of which may be jarring. (rip to people who talk to me regularly)

Boundaries (pls read!!)

; i’m currently not roleplaying with this character. as much as i would love to keep up with threads, and develop relationships with characters, i simply cannot right now. (wanting to focus more on his canon content.)

; i may sometimes keep up crack threads with friends, or you may see me send in silly starters to others; this is nothing against anyone else, but i’ve likely talked about these scenarios with them in private beforehand, and just felt like seeing the in-character reaction. while this may seem exclusionary, or may ‘picking favourites’, trust that i love each and every admin and character that interacts with me.

↳ to build off this: there is a chance that i will hold up a few threads for the holidays, or at least give one response to people for holidays and events, as a treat for the occasions!

; this is a problem i’ve had in the past with toning down my character for fear that he may have been ‘too boring’ or perhaps ‘too rude’ for some (i suppose its affected how some relationships develop, but i won’t worry about it that much now); however i should say that virek is not a nice character. he isn’t of course the same level of fucked up as the diaboys (at least i don’t think(?) idk they have a few centuries of atrocities on him), but he’s certainly up there in terms of fucked up

; while all of my posts are tagged accordingly in the off chance that those under 18 stumble upon here, i run my blog as if it is 18+ (i’ve really only kept the 17+ tag for the few exceptions) . which means that there will be mature content here; that isn’t exclusive to NSFW, but includes darker content and serious topics as well. (i mean this /is/ a dl blog, so i’d hope you understand what you’re getting into)

; PLS READ THIS ONE ITS VERY IMPORTANT: okay i say very important but it’s just something that happens a lot sksk. for ask games, i try to give people at least two days to send in their ask, before i stop accepting (just to make sure that the game was seen.) i would like to say to pay attention to the tags on each post! i’ve recently started tagging ask games with ‘last one’ or some rendition of that. if you see that tag, i’d like to ask that you don’t send one in. this may seem rude, and limiting, but it honestly just kind of ruins my workflow when i mentally check something off as done, only to receive a few more. but i usually take a while to answer things, so please please please pay attention to tags!!

; something that’s more non-serious i guess, even though i’m not rp-ing, i love love talking about how relationships could potentially develop/sillier and smaller scenarios with characters. and that’s something you’ll see me implement a lot of my blog (through art or writing). a lot of the scenarios you’ll see me portray are likely things that me and other admins have talked and joked about in conversation. so never be afraid to reach out!! (even if i do suck at conversation SKSKS)

Other Other Things to Note

; i’m notoriously all over the place, so i’ll do my best to keep my blog organised.

; i’ll usually try to use ‘(( ))’ on this blog whenever i’m talking in the tags. (i don’t do that on my other blogs though, SKSKSK)

; i yell™️. no speak only yell.

[amporella]

I stumbled upon your account and I've fallen in love 😭 style genuinely fuels the blood that runs thkigh my veins and it made me so giddily happy scrolling through your board! Thank you for being awesome, I am bowing,,,

Also! So sorry if this has already been asked, but do you have any style fic recs ? I like to think everyone in the style fandom collectively stares at their open Hollycomb ao3 tab upon being asked this question HAHA but aside from Hollycomb since you've already highlighted your favs from her, are there any others?

AHH thank you so much!!!! This is so sweet augh <3 style fuels the blood that runs through my veins too and trust me when I say I will NEVER stop posting them!!

This is a really good question, and unfortunately, I haven't been reading a ton of fics recently, but I reached out to some friends and got some fics you might want to check out! Some are my own additions, some are those of my friends - and fair warning that I haven't read all of the ones I'm recommending here, but I trust their judgement.

Fic Name (with link) - Author - Rating

Alla Breve - Julads - E - I feel like I've already recommended this one here, but honestly, anyone who sees this should just go read it again. I'm usually put off by some of the tropes found within it, but I loved it so much despite that - it's heartbreakingly tender, sad, and should be required reading for all stankys.

Red String - The Pink Striper - M - I have actually not read this fic, believe it or not, but I was told that it's extremely formative and was basically a stanky touchstone. It's unfinished, but worth the read!!

Visions of Gideon - apollos - T - So sweet and tender and such a good Stan exploration. I'm really trying to rec only one work per author here, but Shirtless and Fat and Crying in Hell (G) is also a great one - really, apollos has a ton of great fics. Read them!!

dirt wizard - applecrumbledore - M - I know it's orphaned, but this is the author, trust me. One of the first style fics I ever read, and even though I know it's been recommended literally a billion times, really just think it's so good. Seven Days of Alien Summer also probably doesn't even need to be recommended as it is such a classic, but it's also extremely good.

like a couple of cosmonauts - tullievolf - E - Ugh, this fic is so good, and while it's still in progress, the penultimate chapter is up! This is really the Post-Covid fic that every stanky adorer needs in their life, honestly? To be fair, I haven't read a ton of PC works, but tullievolf does them justice more than any other one that I've read.

Significant Growth - kasen - E - Extremely tender with extremely good dialogue, and blessed with art by sn33z3s. I haven't read kasen's longer work Final Thread, but I've heard it's very good too!!

Always Starting Over - DaftKneazleHairedMuppet (or lyingmakesyousterile, on tumblr) - E - I'm betaing this fic, and it's been SUCH a pleasure to read; only the first chapter is out so far, but I highly recommend getting into it early!! I promise you won't be disappointed.

Tumblr Prompts - intergalacticattempt (or south-park-meta, on tumblr) - T - south-park-meta obviously has wonderful meta on here, but their fics are really amazing too, and unfortunately easy to miss out on. Please read them!!! They obviously know the characters EXTREMELY well.

A Bowl of Oyster Crackers - heelbruiser (or traitor-boyfriend, on tumblr) - NR - Another one that I haven't read, but fully plan to at some point; and really, if you've read traitor-boyfriend's meta for long enough, you know that you can trust this fic to be good.

There are SO many more amazing stanky fics out there, and it's a shame they aren't coming to the top of my head right now - but I feel like I don't need to tell you how much I love the works of the big three if you're looking for something to read (or reread), and honestly just scrolling through the ao3 stanky tag can find you some gems . Thank you so much for the ask!!

[unoriginalmess]

Untitled Feralnette Fic Ch. 1

Hiya there anyone who happens upon this first chapter of this fic. I would like to start out by saying that this is my first fanfic ever. I've been wanting to write a fic for the miraculous fandom for a while but I haven't had any inspiration until I stumbled upon this glorious AU created by @bigfatbreak. I highly suggest checking out all of their posts about this au because they are hilarious and genius and about 100 other amazing adjectives that could be used to describe them and their posts. Anyways enough with my rant and let's get on with the fic. ⚠️Slight angst⚠️ ⚠️Swearing⚠️

--------

When Marinette got home after her and Luka's breakup, all she could do was cry. She wanted to be with him, but her Ladybug duties came first. If lying is a deal breaker for him, then maybe it was best that they ended it now while their relationship was still in its early stages. Still, she couldn't help but feel the loss of her first relationship. She ended up crying for a whole entire day. She just hoped that Hawkmoth(or Shadowmoth or whatever the fuck he wanted to be referred to as this week) wasn't feeling particularly akuma-y today, because she didn't know if she could bottle up all these feelings, even though the world is relying on her ability to do so.

Ugggghhh!! It has been exhausting having to be "happy and perfect Marinette" and "happy and perfect Ladybug" All. The. Time. She's also pretty sure that Hawkmoth had discovered the similarities in her personality as Marinette to Ladybug, and that's why she's been targeted by multiple akumas lately. She has had to have her emotions under control even more than usual. If only there was a way to get Hawkmoth to stop targeting her. Maybe she should just not give a fuck anymore. Haha as if! It couldn't be that easy! Could it?

The more she thinks about it the more it starts to make sense. If she just let herself go completely crazy as Marinette, she would be killing like 10 birds with one stone. She would get hawkmoth off of her trail, she wouldn't have to deal with having to hide her emotions all of the time, she wouldn't have to deal with the added stress of maintaining her perfect persona, she wouldn't have to deal with the stress of Lila's lies taking her friends away if she didn't have friends in the first place, and so much more stress would be taken off of her plate! It was perfect! It might hurt a little at first, but it's for the best in the end. She spent that night planning out her outfit for tomorrow, doing her homework, and going to sleep knowing that, in the morning, François Dupont isn't gonna know what hit them.

....

Adrien Agreste had been having a rough week. He had been abandoned on patrol by ladybug, been broken up with by his girlfriend, and was feeling completely and utterly alone. He knows that his lady has been feeling overwhelmed by her guardian duties lately, and that he 100% deserved that verbal lasting that kagami had given him but he couldn't help but feel this way. He was also feeling guilty about lying to kagami and leading her on for so long. After she broke up with him he took some time to assess his feelings for her and realized that he had more of an admiration for her than an infatuation. He definitely didn't feel the same way about her that she felt about him. She told him that she LOVED HIM, and he was so distracted (blinded) by ladybug that he didn't even process her confession. So, he was looking forward to Sunday morning. He cleared his schedule and on that beautiful Sunday morning, he did what he is only allowed to do on very rare occasions: sleep in. Or at least... thats what he had planned on doing.

When Nathalie had knocked on his door that morning Adrien was not in a good mood. He vaguely heard her say something about father wanting him downstairs in some amount of time for something involving a business partners child and some other robotic sounding words that his half asleep brain couldn't process completely.

"I have a cleared schedule this morning, Nathalie. What could father possibly want me for that is more important than my precious sleep?" He asked snappily.

"Your father wants you downstairs to welcome the new guest that will be living in the house for the rest of the school year. You have 15 minutes to make yourself look presentable and I suggest leaving the attitude upstairs," she half informed/half reprimanded him. As she walked away, Adrien reluctantly rose from his nice warm bed and went to go get ready with only one thought racing through his mind: Who could possibly be staying with them?

....

Felix Culpa was not looking forward to living at the Agreste mansion for the rest of the school year, but for their parents' sake they would do what they had to. It wasn't all for their parents either, they were also concerned about the strange "dissapearance" of Emilie (who was his aunt in all ways except blood relation) and about the treatment of Adrien since said "disappearance".

You see, Felix Culpa is the heir to the Culpa Fabric Empire. The Culpas have been the sole fabric supplier of the Agreste brand since the very beginning. Felix's mom Diana was best friends with Emilie since their college days. Diana and Emilie made the deal with the two brands because as best friends who are both involved in the same industry, it just made sense to have a business relationship with each other. Diana never really cared for Gabriel as a person, but she could tell that he loved Emilie more than anyone else in the world so she could tolerate him for the sake of her best friend.

When Emilie went missing, Diana was absolutely devastated and tried anything she could to find her. She invested in missing person ads as large as billboards, organized search teams, tried to aid the police in their search for her in any way she could, but there was no leads, no legitimate calls to the number on the billboards, and the search team came up empty handed. While she was doing all of this to try to find her, she couldn't help but be furious over the fact that Gabriel was doing nothing to help in the search. All he did was hole himself up in his oversized mansion and call it a day.

The last straw for Diana was when Gabriel tried to use the "grieving my wife" excuse to try to abuse their business arrangement. That day, she told him that the Culpa brand would no longer be associated with the Agreste brand and that after the new collection is released, he would need to find a new fabric supplier. She knew that the Agreste brand would take a huge hit from having sub-par fabric, but she never thought that Gabriel would try to make up for that fact by using Adrien as a walking mannequin and locking him up in the desolate prison that he calls a home. As soon as she realized that he was doing this she scrambled to find a solution.

That is how Felix ended up here, standing in front of the mansion they would be living in for the next 9 months in exchange for Gabriel getting back into the Culpa brand's good graces. Don't get them wrong, they were excited about being able to be in Paris, home of the most innovative fashion pieces in the world, and about being able to see their honorary cousin Adrien (who wasn't half bad to be around despite him having no backbone whatsoever when it came to anything involving his father) but dealing with Mr. Agreste was definitely one of the low points of this arrangement.

They decided to just get it over with and knocked on the door. It was opened by the man that their cousin affectionately referred to as Gorilla. They nodded a thank you to the man, remembering that he was a man of few words, and proceeded to the bottom of the staircase. Mr. Agreste stood at the top with a very tired looking Adrien a few steps down. Felix wasn't even slightly surprised that this is where he chooses to welcome his guests, looking down on people must give him some sort of power trip or something. It's almost as if he heard the phrase "It's over, Anakin, I have the high ground," and made that his own personal motto. Whatever, let him have the feeling of false power if he wanted it, Felix knows that they have all the power in this situation and they're sure that Gabriel knows it as well.

"Hello Felix," Mr. Agreste greeted them with the same amount of warmth in his voice as liquid nitrogen, "while you are staying in this house you will abide by my rules. Adrien will inform you of them and show you to your room. You will attend school with him in the morning and I'm sure that you already know that you must represent not only the Culpa brand, but also the Agreste as well. I will be in my office working, do not disturb me. Contact Nathalie with any questions that cannot be answered by Adrien." He finished his spiel and left to what Felix assumed was his office space.

"Hello Felix!" Adrien greeted him with as much enthusiasm as he could muster in his sleepy state. "Come with me and I'll show you to your room."

Adrien led Felix to their room and listed all of the rules of the household that they were expected to follow. And... wow. Felix could not believe that their cousin had to live like this. The only social interaction this kid gets is at school and fencing? Pre-approved outings only with people determined socially acceptable by Gabriel? And if he gets even one "B" he isn't even going to be allowed to go to school at all? Felix knew that the living situation was bad for Adrien but know the only question running through their head was: What did they get themselves into??

--------

And... thats it for chapter 1! Mostly background info at this point, but next chapter will be the class' reaction to feralnette and felinette meeting for the first time. I just want to say thanks again to @bigfatbreak for giving me the inspiration to write a fic for the first time ever. Feel free to leave constructive criticism, I'm always looking to improve, especially at writing since this is my first time posting anything I've written online, so I want to get better so that I can make better content for you guys, gals, and non-binary pals. If anyone wants to be tagged just let me know and I'll make a tag list for ya. :)

[tobesoalive]

r u mine? (Jake Kiszka x reader)

hey guys...so this was fun to write, thank you to the kind anon who requested it! I currently have some fun (and steamy) Josh stuff in the works right now, but still feel free to send in requests! I might slow down a little with posting since my classes started, but I promise to get to every request! Enjoy my first Jake piece!

Warnings: SMUT(oral f-recieving, fingering, penetrative sex)

Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you headed down the hallway backstage, about to go out and face the crowd of thousands of fans. No you weren't a huge famous musician or anything, just their photographer. Basically the same thing right?

For the past three weeks you had been enjoying life on the road, it had always been your dream to be a concert photographer, and your work had caught the attention of a little band called Greta Van Fleet. Well, not exactly little. Their fan base grew everyday and now they were doing yet another headlining tour that they asked you to document. Over the past few months you had been in contact with the guys and their management, and you guys hit it off instantly, they brought you under their wing as if you were part of the family.

You basically were all one big family, you had gotten extremely close to the boys. Josh, Sam and Danny were like your brothers, and Jake...he was a little different.

Brother would be an odd way to describe him, seeing as you had a bit of a crush on him. Nothing super serious, you just thought he was a cool guy who also happened to be really fucking hot. You thought he might have a little something for you too, he was always asking you how you liked the show, and when he’d catch you editing the photos you took he’d sit himself right next to you and ask if you’d show him what you were working on. He was constantly complimenting your work, but that would mostly be in private, when he’d seek you out if he couldn’t sleep. You surely weren’t complaining, you enjoyed his company. You just wish he would say something, or even better, make a move. You could be taking his actions the wrong way, he does have tons of women who want him all around the country, maybe he does just think of you as a sister. Whatever thoughts you had about Jake you’d just push to the back of your mind, you had a job to do, and your work was more important than getting laid.

You went in front of the barricade and took some photos of the crowd and talked to fans. They liked to ask you questions about the guys and what it was like touring with them. You always tried to make them feel special by saying how thankful the guys were, which wasn’t a lie, to have such amazing fans.

All of a sudden you heard some of the fans start screaming wildly. They were chanting Jake’s name, and you turned your head only to briefly meet his eyes from the side of the stage where he was standing. Within a second he was gone, most likely rushing backstage to avoid any further commotion from the audience.

What was that all about? You thought to yourself. Did he sneak over there to just look at me? Maybe he wanted to talk or something. That can happen later, it was only a few minutes until the show started, so you wanted to snap a few more shots of the crowd before running all over during the show to catch the right angles.

During the show you had a great time, as per usual. You loved being right up front, taking photos of the guys doing what they loved. You went backstage to get some photos from the wings. Jake was about to do his signature move, playing his guitar behind his head, and you were ready to capture the moment. Right as you snapped the photo, Jake turned and winked at you, arms thrown behind his head, somehow managing to play the notes of “Highway Tune” whilst flirting with you.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, and you felt an intense need for him. Quickly you ran back out to the front of the stage to capture a few more moments before the show was over.

“God fucking dammit, I’m in deep” you muttered to yourself, before heading to the green room to congratulate the guys on the awesome show. You slipped through the crew heading on stage to clean up the equipment, turning a corner and bumping directly into Jake.

“Oh sorry! Great job out there tonight!” you say, trying your best not to blush. What was wrong with you, it was like you were a school girl or something.

“Thanks y/n! Did you get some good shots?”

“No, I made sure to get really shitty photos, especially of you”

“Are you being sarcastic?! Now that is something new!” he teased you.

“I just know how much you enjoy my sense of humor! I like to give back to the fans y’know” you quip back, causing him to break out into a smile.

“Hey the guys and quite a bit of the crew is gonna head out and probably find a bar or something once we’re done cleaning up. You wanna join?”

“Thanks for the offer, but I might just keep it lowkey tonight, I’d prefer to edit the photos tonight so I can explore whatever city we’re going to tomorrow.”

“Totally understandable, well I’ll catch you later!”

“Yeah for sure!” you say as you go off to find the rest of the guys.

After about a half hour of chatting and checking in with the rest of your tour mates, you decided it was time to change into your pajamas and spend the rest of the night staring at your computer screen, trying to edit as many photos as you can before inevitably passing out.

Getting onto the bus you shared with some other crew members, you kicked your Vans off before checking to see if anyone else was around. Seems like they all were opting to go out after the show, which meant you got the whole place to yourself. You traded out your concert outfit for a pair of shorts and a hoodie, getting prepared for your lengthy editing session.

You made yourself at home on the couch towards the front of the bus, turning on your speaker and playing music as loud as you wanted, getting straight to work.

It had felt like only a minute when you heard a knock on the door, but after checking your clock you realized an hour had already gone by. You peeked out the window only to see Jake’s figure standing there.

“Jacob! What’s up? I thought you were going to the bar?” you said as you opened the door to let him in.

“That show wore me out”

“Yeah you did amazing, I mean like you usually do” you say, stumbling over your words and internally punching yourself. God you were not smooth at all.

“Seems like we are some of the very few who decided to stay back, I was getting lonely in that tour bus.”

“Well you’re always welcome here, I was just doing some editing.”

“Wow you’re a pretty big nerd aren’t you? You know you should take a break every once and a while, I feel like you’re constantly working.”

“Well it’s not that hard when you love your job” you tell him.

“I guess that's true, can I see what you’re working on?”

“Yeah of course” you say while making your way back to the couch, Jake plopping down next to you.

“Damn that’s fucking awesome” he remarks, looking at the image on your screen. It’s the one of him playing the guitar behind his head, and winking right at you.

“I know! Thanks for being such a good model” you tell him with a small laugh.

“The guys and management are really impressed with your work. We’ve already been talking about having you come on the European leg of the tour with us.”

“Are you for real?!” you ask in awe, giddy with excitement. You absolutely loved this job and the people, and the thought that you could travel the world to do it was a dream come true.

“Yeah, don’t tell anyone though, I don’t want to get my ass beat for it.”

“Oh my god Jake I could literally kiss you!” you exclaimed, before you had even realized what you said.

You tried your best to play it off before your thoughts were interrupted by Jake’s voice.

“I wish you would”

“Huh” you stop for a second before turning to face him.

“Listen y/n, I think you’re really cool, and you also happen to be really hot. Sorry, maybe I was interpreting things wrong. I just thought if you felt the same it might be fun. It doesn’t have to be anything serious, I just get lonely on the road and -”

Before he could say another word, you took it upon yourself to answer his question, leaning in to capture his lips in a soft kiss. You pull back and look him in the eyes, closing your laptop and setting it on the counter.

“God I’m glad you finally said something, I think everyone was starting to sense the sexual tension” you grin at him.

“Well all I could think about on stage was fucking your brains out, so sorry if I’m not too great at hiding it” he says before grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you in for another kiss, to which you open your mouth to let his tongue slip in.

You move yourself so that you’re straddling his lap, your lips moving perfectly in rhythm as Arctic Monkeys played softly in the background.

“Wow it seems like you were almost expecting this to happen” he teases you.

“Shut up and fuck me Kiszka” you say before he flips you so you’re now beneath him.  

His fingers find their way under your shirt, reaching up to cup your breast. He pinched your nipple before quickly tugging at the hem of your sweatshirt.

“Can this come off?” he breathed into your mouth.

“Yes please” you said before he pulled it off you, exposing your bare chest to him. You felt very self conscious, it had been a little while since you had gotten naked with anyone.

“Hey don’t be shy, you’re gorgeous” he said before connecting your lips once more before he stood up to remove his shirt and shorts, leaving him in a pair of boxer briefs. You tried your best to not look at his growing bulge, but it was hard to resist.

Suddenly he was kneeling on the ground, body in between your spread legs.

“Jake you really don’t have to” “Oh trust me, I want to, '' he says before running his fingers up and down over your clothed core, moving his fingers to the waistband of your shorts, pulling your panties down with them.

“God you’re so fucking sexy” he mutters before expertly pressing the pad of his thumb onto your clit, his other hand pushing on your thigh to keep your legs spread.

“Fuck, Jake, I need more” you groan, your arousal now dripping between your folds.

“Don’t worry baby girl, I’ve got you”

Those words alone probably could have made you cum, but then Jake entered a finger into you, causing your hands to tangle in his long hair, slightly pulling.

“Goddamn babe you’re tight” he said, looking at you in awe before adding another finger and leaning down to toy your clit with the tip of his tongue. His fingers were pumping in and out of you at a steady rhythm, and every so often he’d curl them to perfectly hit your g-spot.

“Jake you need to stop or else I’m gonna cum” you say as you pull his head back, looking him in the eyes.

“That’s okay” he reassures you.

“No, when I cum I want it to be around you” you say.

“Fucking hell y/n” he groans out in a raspy voice.

You get up and kiss him before pushing him down on the couch, his erection straining against the fabric of his boxers. You tug at the waistband, and he lifts his hips up to assist you. You took a moment to admire his length before wrapping your hand around it. He was a couple inches above average, with a nice girth to him. His head tipped back in bliss as you continued to give him a few more strokes before positioning yourself above him, running his tip back and forth across your slit. Slowly, you sank yourself down onto him, taking as much of him in as you could.

“Fuck fuck fuck Jake, you’re really fucking big” you breath out, only able to fit about half of him in you at this angle.

“Just do what you can baby” he says before softly pressing a kiss on your forehead, telling you that it was okay.

You started moving yourself up and down on him as best you could, starting to adjust more to his size. The stretch burned but slowly started turning more pleasurable.

After a few minutes your legs were starting to hurt and his length slipped out of you.

“Will you fuck me from behind?” you blurt out, sweat running between the valley of your breasts.

“I’d be honored” Jake responds, offering a smile before getting up.

He moves you so that your hands are on the back of the couch, holding you steady and your knees rest on the edge of the sofa, sticking your ass out towards Jake. You can hear him move behind you, hands finding their way to your ass, before you feel him run his tip up and down your slit once again.

“Ready?” he asks.

You nod in response and instantly feel him push his way into you, letting you adjust for a second before pushing the rest of his length in you.

“Oh my fucking god Jake” you say as you bury your head in the couch cushions, his dick hitting a spot in you that you didn’t even know was there.

“Oh god you’re doing so good baby girl, taking all of my cock.” he says as he begins to pump in and out of you, starting off slow but gradually picking up the pace.

It feels amazing, better than you had imagined. You wanted him to stay in you forever, make you see stars all the time. Within a minute you were contracting around him, nearing your edge.

“Jake I’m almost there, please faster”

“Me too baby, me too” he says as he starts thrusting even faster than before, wrapping his arm around you to toy with your clit.

All it takes is a few more pumps and you can feel him explode inside you, groaning your name loudly and leaning over your back, but still circling your clit with his fingers. It’s enough to bring you to your peak, walls contracting around him, burying your head in your arms. Once you’ve both come down you stay in that position for a minute, before he pulls out of you and collapses on the couch, pulling you into his chest.

“That was way better than I imagined” he breathes out, hand stroking your hair.

“Oh so you’ve thought about this before? That's embarrassing” you say in a sarcastic tone.

“Hey I’m sure you aren’t so innocent yourself” he says smiling down at you.

“We should probably get dressed, I’m sure your brothers and the other goons will be stumbling in anytime now.” you tell him as you get up and search for your clothes.

“You’re probably right. Hey, let's do this again sometime” he says, cheeks going red.

“Hmm...I’ll see if I can fit you into my schedule” you respond, giving him a quick wink.

These next few months surely were going to be an adventure, and you didn’t want to miss a second.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 328: Pandora’s Box of Discourse

Previously on BnHA: DEKU TOOK A BATH.

Today on BnHA: 

Also Naomasa grew a beard. Goddamn. 

please let this be a cool chapter that plays nice with my ADHD lol

(ETA: lol I feel guilty because a lot of people hated this chapter, but I’m just happy there was a lot of stuff to make fun of, and also that I have another week to work on my backlog of meta posts since the kids were MIA.)

around one month ago?? ah, okay, so we’re gonna find out what was in that Tartarus security file huh

I love that they just randomly set the place on fire

was it necessary to do this in order to escape? no. was it a good idea to set the island they were occupying on fire while they were in the midst of still occupying it? uh. was it cinematic as fuck? fuck yeah

wow it’s a pervert!!

that’s so great that the villains set loose this fine fellow who I’m sure is definitely not a serial rapist. truly the LoV is so noble and misunderstood. they’re just trying to free society from its chains people

oh my god??!

SHANKED!!! oh my god I cheered for Stain before I realized what I was doing. time to have an identity crisis I guess

so he’s all “hey what’s going on.” which, while a respectable question, is something I personally would have waited to ask until I had put a bit of distance between myself and the fiery murder island. but that’s just my personal preference

Stain you really are tenacious I’ll give you that

“what’s the point of escaping prison if you’re not gonna be smart about it” well shit. anyways yeah you’re dead right, society is in the process of collapsing and the outside world is in total chaos, good call there

oh shit

I mean it’s not like we really expecting anything otherwise, but still. fucking brutal. I feel like these guys’ fates were decided the minute that one guy called AFO “scum” back in chapter 94. AFO is unmatched at getting long-term revenge

??

ahh, was it the security footage??

fdsdfk he’s still alive??

and he’s immediately launching into an inappropriately theatrical monologue even as the darkness closes in on him fdlfksjdlk. you know, was it ever confirmed that the other guy back in chapter 297 was Seiji’s dad? I’m just saying

very impressed that he’s still coherent enough to weigh the pros and cons before making the decision to gamble on giving this info to Stain, who at the very least has his own moral code and isn’t allied with AFO. it was definitely still a risk, but as we now know it was also the right call

what a weird alliance. so Stain tells him that he’ll give it to a just person, and the guy is all,

okay for real though I’m gonna need someone to run a DNA test on this guy. maybe it was some kind of cuckold situation?? the other guy had the family resemblance, but this guy absolutely 100% raised Shishikura Seiji and you are not going to convince me otherwise

anyway, so Stain is all,

PRISON GUARD: “???? ??????? what the hell. what the fuck does that fucking mean. I’m dying here, jesus christ, whatever man fuck you”

(ETA: I kind of feel like this might have been Stain’s last appearance in the manga, given all the fanfare. there’s not really much else he can do for the story at this point, and he seems to have gotten all the character development Horikoshi was planning on giving him. so if this really is it, hasta la vista and good riddance I guess.)

DWLFDKSLDK MEANWHILE, OUTSIDE

(ETA: I feel like this is meant to be evocative of that Sermon on the Mount painting, but in a really fucked up way lol.)

if it were me stumbling upon this scene I would just shake my head and walk right back into the flaming building. not getting involved in that mess. sorry not sorry. I’ll take my chances with the fire, especially given that it’s half-assed neutered BnHA fire lol

blah blah blah and so he decided to pass the info on to All Might -- HOT DAMN, HOLY SHIT

NAOMASA HOLY SHIT. THE APOCALYPSE LOOKS GOOD ON YOU, BOY

“I really like that facial scruff thing Aizawa’s got going on, I think I’m gonna get in on that” yes sir. “also thinking of ditching the tie in favor of the bulletproof vest look. also thinking of getting totally fucking jacked.” good lord. except I’m pretty sure that’s just body armor, but also I don’t care. anyway I should probably stop staring and actually read the fucking speech bubbles here lol

“All Might first handed this information over to Nao, and then went to see Deku, and then came back to Nao” thanks for that tidy little summary Horikoshi. we are capable of piecing events together in sequential order, I just want you to know that. but thank you

“so has Deku finally gotten a bath? also, sucks that Stain saved the day, but what are you gonna do” Nao I missed you so fucking much and didn’t even realize. how am I just now realizing that you are the perfect man

for a second I was gonna ask why Tartarus’s security systems would be cut off from the outside world, and then I remembered that’s a basic security control, and then I actually got impressed by how sensible that is. like, it’s been a while since I could genuinely say that the good guys (excluding class 1-A) did something smart. not that it helped them much in the end, but still

anyway so they’re talking about how AFO was able to coordinate the attack by communicating between his horcrux self on the outside and his ugly peanut-faced self on the inside

huh

okay you have my attention. I am taking notes here lol please continue

ah okay so he says that prior to Jakku, the transfer of information between him and his Vestige self was only one-way. but post-Jakku when Deku was in the hospital, he was able to tell what was happening inside the OFA Radical Lisa Frank Dead People Book Club Realm when he touched him. I feel like we established that before, actually. but he didn’t talk about how it actually felt, though

boy we already know this lol. yes AFO can talk with his horcrux self. and he can also communicate with his little bro in OFA too, let’s talk about that sometime why don’t we. what exactly does that imply, based on the rules we’ve established here

my god I cannot get over Naomasa and his fucking facial hair

no wonder All Might was in such a hurry to leave Deku and get back here

like I have no idea what this radio waves nonsense is but my god, people

that jawline. also so it’s a quirk, I see. except last I checked Deku didn’t have a radio waves quirk, so that doesn’t really explain his connection to AFO. but whatever, hopefully we’re at least getting closer to some kind of reveal here

(ETA: since I sometimes forget that other people’s lives don’t revolve around my theory posts, here are the two relevant links if you by chance want to know my thoughts about this.

Hagakure is still The U.A. Traitor™ regardless of whether Deku is passing information on to AFO through his psychic link, which he almost certainly is.

speaking of said psychic link, Deku is a horcrux.

just posting these now, because whenever trippy OFA stuff happens I tend to get an influx of theory asks. so hopefully this will be a bit of a time saver lol.)

-- wait, what

THAT’S what the recording was??!? holy SHIT. I genuinely was not expecting that. y’all wiretapped his fucking telepathy. fucking quirks, man. wild

AND THEY USED THAT POWER TO DETERMINE WHAT WE ALREADY KNEW, HUZZAH. GOOD SHOW

-- oh shit wait lol, except I forgot we’re not talking about 38 days from the present, we’re talking about 38 days from the date the conversation was recorded. heh. um

yeah that’s the face I would make too if All Fucking Might just casually told me we had eight days left until the end times

oh, pardon me. three fucking days

r.i.p. anyone who thought we were going to have another band arc sob. I sure hope Deku is enjoying that nap

(ETA: I realize people were hoping for a longer rest period here, but given that the man warned us all the way back in chapter 306 that we were entering the final act, you can’t really blame him too much when that turns out to be true. anyway but I do recognize that we’ve reached the point in the story where this kind of discourse is going to become a weekly occurrence, simply because there’s no possible way for Horikoshi’s actual endgame to line up perfectly with the variable headcanons of millions of fans, all of whom have wildly differing and in many cases contradictory expectations which can’t possibly all be fulfilled. anyway, so I’m already bracing myself for that lol. this coming year is going to be a wild ride.)

damn, U.A. out here looking like the motherfucking United Nations

-- is this U.A.?? I actually just realized, U.A. is four interconnected buildings, not two. wait holy shit is this Shiketsu?

wait holy SHIT

based on the overwhelmingly powerful vibes of bureaucratic incompetence, I’m thinking this really is the (future) U.N., or whatever organization it is that deals with international hero stuff

“just let them handle it themselves I’m sure they’ll be fine” yeah okay, thanks guys. appreciate it

wait oh shit did he say that it’s not just Japan?

soooo, what you’re telling me is that AFO is this close to bringing about the end of not just Japan, but the entire world, and you guys don’t think it’s a good idea to help the Japanese heroes stop him? so, genuine follow-up question: are you guys already planning your rich people exodus into space a la Wall-E, and that’s why you don’t give a fuck?? like, what??

omg international heroes

these guys are from World Hoodie Mission, right? is this Horikoshi’s way of reminding me to buy tickets

(ETA: and it worked too lol.)

WHO??? WHAT???

don’t tell me you’re introducing yet another badass new female character for me to fall in love with only to watch as you dismember them and/or blow them up, Horikoshi. I’m getting tired of playing this game my dude. don’t lie and tell me this time will be different. we’re not doing this again goddammit

noooooooooooooooooooo

god fucking dammit lmao. [sighs and rips the previous paragraph into shreds]

on behalf of Americans I apologize for our superheroes always being Like This

I also apologize because I love her already and I’m gonna be shameless about it. so fucking shameless you guys

is her fucking hair red white and blue. it is, isn’t it

this is the volume cliffhanger, 100% lol. it will take every ounce of Horikoshi’s willpower not to put her on the volume cover. he’ll have to settle for the spine or the inner cover this time because Deku VS his class 1-a superpals takes precedence. but it will be a close thing let me tell you

tbh it’s that smile that does it for me. she’s definitely All Might’s protege. get out there and show them how it’s done girl. and maybe call Salaam and BRD and see if you can’t convince them to play hooky from their governments as well. why not. world’s ending in three days you guys. “sorry, I’m busy this weekend” ain’t gonna cut it lol

so while I am not fully caught up with Vigilantes, I have read far enough to know that there’s an American hero named Captain Celebrity whose superpower from what I recall is being a humongous douchebag. and while I haven’t read far enough to know what happens to this guy, I can’t say I’m very disappointed to learn that he’s no longer the number one hero in the U.S. (actually, didn’t they kick him out and that’s why he moved to Japan to begin with?). anyway, so my thanks to Horikoshi for having a marginally higher opinion of Americans than Furuhashi, even though we have definitely not done anything to warrant said opinion lately, and you may have inadvertently opened the door to a pandora’s box of discourse lmao

(ETA: lol I went into the tags and they don’t disappoint. “why is she dressed like a flag” because she’s an homage to Captain America and Major Victory and literally every other character on this list. again, I apologize for fictional American superheroes being Like This. “oh boy another thicc waifu to make the fanboys happy” look, tumblr fandom never seems to have a problem thirsting over Dabi or Tomura or Aizawa or Nao, lol, I’m just saying. “where is Captain Celebrity” idk, probably murdered by the exploding bee cartel, let’s just be grateful for our good fortune and try not to Beetlejuice the man.)

anyway, so let’s see if Horikoshi’s recent character development with regards to making Mineta not terrible anymore will apply to other aspects of his writing as well. I know I was making light of discourse just now, but I do think the complaints about him introducing yet another new character at the 11th hour to be cannon fodder in the final battle are absolutely valid. and again, it wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t keep maiming/killing off his female characters one by one instead of developing them and letting them kick ass long-term. but that said, I will never complain about Horikoshi adding another female character to the series, regardless of how clumsy the attempt may be. go ahead and pander away, just give us more girl power lol

anyway so we’ll see how it goes, but I think I’m gonna be optimistic and let myself hope once again, even though I’m probably gonna regret it lol. it is what it is. she is standing on an airplane just chilling for fuck’s sake. I’m only human. anyway fingers crossed

[get-shiggy-with-it]

collab masterlist

✧ pairing: villain!hawks x afab!reader

✧ word count: 5k

✧ warnings: this is like all smut, angst, ambiguous but happy ending, unhealthy relationships, mentions of transactional sex, reader has a healing quirk but it's really just for poetic purposes, reader has a vagina, no other gendered parts, oral sex (reader receiving), vague metaphorical drug reference, mentions of blood, mentions of wounds, mating press, soft sex (?), sorta, slight potential could be read as dubcon but they're both into it

✧ summary: for years you've stitched hawks back together when the world has torn him to shreds—and he always pays you back, though you can't help but start want more than he can give you.

✧ a/n: hey y'all this months theme was villain/hero swap with a shared opener! please go check out all the other wonderful works in this collab, there are so many talented writers/artists involved!! credit to @/lady-bakuhoe for the amazing intro. also bonus points if you catch the old aesthetic tumblr post references.

Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.

Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary.

One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.

***

You can only touch him when he’s dying.

That fact is made even more horrifically apparent as he stumbles through your open window—and how long has it been since you’ve slept with it closed?—dripping with blood and panting from his flight.

The T.V. blares in the background, filling your tiny apartment with incessant ramblings that only grow louder by the day, and you already know what they’re going to say before they say it. Because you see him, before the reporters stumble upon heroes in the wreckage—you see what they do to him before they’re warning the public of dangerous villains loose in the streets.

They spout off about failing heroes but you think they’ve done a pretty damn good butchers job. Red feathers matted together, sticky and brown, fall in tufts from his back. You burn with shameful jealousy at the thought of those who would call themselves heroes having laid hands on what is yours.

He isn’t really yours and you know that, though you often wish you could be a bit more delusional. It might not hurt so much then.

They call him a villain. They call him a threat to society.

But even faced with the truth spilling from him and onto your creaking floors, it is easy to forget what a ruthless predator the man before you becomes when he leaves these four walls.

Especially as he falls forward on heavy feet straight into your arms, outstretched and waiting. There are stains on your shirt but you’ve known the secret for getting blood out of clothing for years now. Cold water for the fabric, warm to wash away the grime on his lovely skin.

“Gonna need you to fix me up again, sweetheart,” Hawks mumbles into your shoulder where his forehead rests.

His breathing is even more ragged now, not just from the flight.

“I know,” you reply and your hands shake when they find the gaping wound at his side—wide and deeper than the ones before. “I know. Can you walk?”

He doesn’t respond but that mop of golden hair shifts a bit as he slings an arm over your shoulder and rests his weight. You don’t need to direct him to your bedroom. This is an old game you’re playing and he knows the steps.

So do you.

Though, you’re never sure if it's dread that fills you and makes your stomach knot and your knees weak. Or if it’s that awful, momentary rush of excitement at the prospect of being able to run your fingers over him, bare and giving you free reign.

As long as he’s bleeding out on your floor.

Then you can feel him.

When he’s dying and needs you.

Needs you to fix him.

But won’t ever let you close enough to finish the job the way you want to.

You comfort yourself in with the knowledge that at least he lets you this close. At least those thin, silver-skin scars are the unmistakable mark of your healing hands. At least you’ll always haunt him like the red feather down that sticks to your pillows or between your floorboards.

So you strip him carefully and try not to let his sculpted chest distract you from the work. Hawks is silent, such a model patient as always. Only grunting when your fingers move to knit together the ragged edges of his flesh.

This will leave a nasty mark, you know it already. But you can’t find it in yourself to mourn the loss of that lovely skin.

It will only make it harder for him to forget you.

You’re knelt beside him, laid out on a towel you keep at the edge of the bed. Blood will soak through to the sheets regardless, but you try your best. He takes a sharp breath, white teeth catching the back of his hand between them to stifle groans.

You wish there was more pleasure to it. That he was biting back moans for you instead of trying not to scream as his flesh pulsed and grew hot while it was rebuilt under your fingertips. So you indulge, pretend your hands are elsewhere, roaming his perfect waistline and pulling whimpers from him.

Your dangerous, villainous, predator Hawks sprawled on his back, wings spread and cumming onto his chest under you.

The sounds above you change, and you know it hurts—must be excruciating as bone is set back into place—but you chose to believe it’s because he’s trying to keep himself from screaming your name as he reaches his release.

Hawks, you’d croon to him—Hawks because you don’t know his real name. Don’t know who he was before he started this underground life of crime on the fringes of a society that called him a monster and then turned him into one.

He isn’t a monster in your bed, though he may cry like one.

Cry as you mold his flesh and try not to look him in the face. Try to pretend they are an overflow of some better emotion. And when those summer wheat field eyes roll back in his head and those horrible pretty noises stop, you push past the growing ache in your limbs until the skin under your palms is smooth and no longer leaking thick, red blood.

And you do your best to resist the itch to feel more of him while he can’t stop you. Even with your fingers numb from overexertion, you can’t help but fall back on your heels and long for the feeling of his cheek in your hand, or his chest on your face.

But your part of the transaction is done.

And your permission doesn’t extend past these limits.

And it pains you to wish harm on him.

But it hurts even more when he does not need you.

So you sit and hate yourself and hope that those heroes with their disgusting philosophies get their shit together just a bit more. So you won’t lose your purpose. So he’ll keep coming through your window, permanently open through rainstorms and snow and spring heat.

Hawks’ breath evens slowly, and you stay still as a watched painting—no shifting eyes or moving limbs.

You crave these times like water or warm food—constant and instinctively.

And this is the only time you’ll ever have them, hands so filled with pinpricks of fried nerves that you can barely feel the soft, relaxed muscle beneath them.

What a tragedy.

What an injustice—

You can only touch him when he’s dying.

***

“Hmm,” he groans, sitting up and wincing as the new flesh protests under his movements.

“You should rest for a bit longer.”

Hawks looks at you, stretched next to him on the mattress—a purposeful few inches of space left between your bodies. It’s both selfish and practical advice.

But he isn’t here for that kind of help.

“You know I can’t just be sittin’ on my ass,” he quips, flashing you that eyes closed, wide smirk that sets your heart hammering in your chest. “Can’t have anyone tracing me back here.”

“Normally I’d agree,” you don’t find it in yourself to give the words any bite, “but you were just actively bleeding out a few minutes ago.”

“Sure, but that was a few minutes ago,” he winks and you can already feel the bed shifting as he moves to settle himself over your hips, one toned thigh on either side to bracket you against the bed. “Now, let me pay you back for all that hard work, yeah sweetheart?”

You wish the way he peered up through those long lashes, gold eyes honed in on you like a piece of meat on a hook, didn’t make your face burn this much.

It doesn’t mean anything to him.

Because this arrangement really is transactional—so you have to get something out of it too. At least, that’s what he tells himself, you think. He doesn’t know that those scant few moments you hold his life between your fingers is more than enough payment.

It’s been this way since the very first time you stumbled across him, half dead in an alley. But then you think it might have just been a ‘heat of the moment’ sort of thing that had just stuck.

You heal him and he makes you writhe on the sheets with his tongue and his hands, until you're fucked into unconscious bliss and he can slip away without your prying eyes watching him go.

But you still aren’t allowed to touch Hawks, even when he reaches into those deep parts of you and molds them to fit only him.

“You don’t—” you start to protest, partly because you want to believe you don’t want it and partly because you want to hear him insist that he does.

“Shh,” Hawks presses a calloused finger to your mouth and it takes every ounce of strength not to suck it past your lips. “I don’t like leaving my debts unpaid.”

That’s the end of your determination for the night. So you try to relax into his touch as slides your bottoms off and tosses them to the floor. Try not to clench up under those fingers that spread your legs. He doesn’t like it when you squirm away, when you flinch from his hands.

You want to think it’s because he hopes you aren’t afraid of him—of what he is—like the rest are, and not because he wants to get it over with as quickly as possible.

You want to.

But he’s so hard to read, and your mind is not often a kind place.

“Mm, god I’m always so hungry after you patch me up baby,” Hawks licks his lips as he stares down at you. “You won’t mind if I eat you right?”

You cringe at how fast your head shakes.

“Mm, course you wouldn’t.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice, and he’s right though you resent it a bit that he’s got you pegged so easily.

But you’re weak, you’re no villain, you’re no hero.

And so you’ll never be able to resist him. But, damn, did you wish you had a name to cry out. Then at the very least, you could keep a part of him with you too. Then you’d have some to moan on the nights he goes uninjured and you have to bring yourself to lonely release, only thinking of him.

Of those wings spread above you like a burning, red sunset, obscuring the rest of the world from view with his blinding light.

“Hawks…” you hiss instead as he shifts your legs over his shoulders and lays his tender chest on the sheets. “Please.”

“Yeah, yeah, what’s it gonna be tonight then?” he asks, breath ghosting over the damp folds between your thighs.

“Thought you said you were gonna use your tongue,” you whine, impatient now for any scrap of attention he’s willing to give.

“If that’s what you want,” he presses a kiss into the crease of your leg and hip, nipping the delicate skin so you whine again. “It’s whatever you want, you know that.”

It isn’t though.

It’s not whatever you want.

You can pick the position, you can ask for his mouth or his fingers, but even then, they won’t go past your neck. Your hands must stay firmly knotted in the comforter and away from him while he works. Cause he is working. This is part of the job to him, it's only in your fantasies that he’s doing it simply for the hell of it.

Hawks nudges your embarrassingly soaked slit with his nose and hums at you, “So is that what you want? Want me to eat your pretty pussy, yeah?”

“Yes—ngh,” you don’t get much in past the confirmation.

He’s a busy man.

He doesn’t have time for your stupid, romantic day dreams.

So he dives right in, and it’s enthusiastic enough that you can convince yourself he simply wants you that badly.

Hawks tongue licks a long strip from your hole to your clit and sucks the little bud past his plush lips. They’re a lovely, soft pink against your skin and they make a mess of you in seconds. He starts up an even rhythm, drawing circles into the nerves that sing and have heat building up in you only seconds after he’s started.

You hate that you love how well he knows your body.

You hate that you only know his when it’s shutting down.

“You taste so good, you know that?” he mumbles, lapping at you and kneading your thighs. “Could live down here just drinking you every fucking day.”

He doesn’t always talk like that but you’re happy he is now. It distracts you from the deep, ingrained urge to yank him by the hair and taste yourself on his lips.

“Makes me wish I’d let those damn heroes get hits in more often,” he’s back to panting and you keen at the sound. “Want my fingers too?”

“Fuck yes,” you don’t even bother hiding the desperation anymore.

He deserves the boost to his ego. You’d shower him with praise if he’d let you, bathe him in warm words and press them into his skin with your tongue.

But he doesn’t let you.

Hawks’ hand on your thigh trails slowly against the sensitive skin until he’s pulling back to run his fingers through your folds to ease the stretch a bit as he pushes two inside. He knows you can take what he gives to you, knows you love the way he fills you up.

Your tingling hands ache to grab his head and force his lips back as he sits for a moment, eyes glued on the space where his fingers disappear into your body. He groans low at the wet sounds your bodies make at their joining. Your legs shake where they rest on him, the one other point of contact he’s allowed. Those deadly soft feathers brush your calves as he curls his fingers up and waits expectantly for the strangled cry he pulls from you.

“There it is,” his voice is so much lower when he speaks now. “Can’t exactly show you the real ones, but how ‘bout you let me make you see some stars, huh?”

He asks so much of you. So much. So often.

In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever actively asked him for a thing he hadn’t already offered in the few years you’d known him. Hawks does it all—the taking and the giving and the demanding.

And you’re simply along for the ride, holding on for dear life lest he drop you, let you plummet like rock to the barren ground.

Still, you are mortal and you crave and you will take what you can get.

“Mhm,” you whimper when his deft fingers increase their pace, not thrusting but grinding mercilessly into that delicious spot inside.

“You wanna cum now, sweet thing?”

Then, true to his villainous nature, Hawks latches his lips back onto your clit, wracking your body with waves of truly sinful pleasure. His tongue draws quick, perfect circles across the bud just how you like. You’ll never know why it feels so much better when it’s him touching you.

How he knows exactly what you want.

Most of it.

Then his other hand is reaching around your hip, thumb taking over to press down where his tongue had been. Panting for the third time, his gorgeous head rests on your thigh and he stares dead on into your eyes. That predator yellow gaze pins you to the pillows better than any hand could and he licks across his lips while you watch, moaning as he tastes you there.

You groan deep and unabashedly at the sight.

“What is it?” he’s teasing you, unable to keep that part of his cruelty hidden even now. “What do you want?”

You shake your head and wish you could turn away, flop against the mattress and writhe but you can’t. You just can’t give up this moment that’s etching itself into your retinas—like you’re staring head on at an eclipse, celestial and short-lived.

“Tell me,” Hawks whispers, nipping at your thigh and working his fingers harder on you. “Whatever you want, you’ll get it.”

And maybe it’s the sudden heat of the room, or the little breeze from his wings spreading defensively to block you from view of his nonexistent audience—the outside world maybe? To keep you, this secret indulgence, hidden from their prying hands. Or quite possibly it’s just your own weakness at the feet of years and years of loving—because you do, you love him, it’s clear by now that’s what this is—this man whose name you don’t know and whose eyes never seem to leave you even when he’s gone.

Maybe you simply crack under the pressure of keeping this awful, looming silence for too long.

You feel your lips split at the seams and it all comes rushing out in a polluted flood—a stagnant river of secrets.

“Let me touch you,” you gasp and close your eyes then just so you won’t have to see that grin slip from his beautiful face. “Please Hawks, let me touch you. I can’t do it anymore, just—I need to kiss you, I need more.”

All this time he hadn’t let up on pulling pleasure from your skin, but he stops now, bringing your release to a screaming halt.

The quiet that follows—devoid of fast breaths and wet slapping—is suffocating.

You wish you regretted the outburst, the waste of years worth of work to keep him coming back.

But you don’t.

Of course you will in a minute, when he slips away and doesn’t return.

But now it just feels as though that boulder of secrecy has been lifted off your chest and you can finally take in lungfuls of sweet, unhindered night air.

It’s only after that dreadful minute has passed and there are still hands on you—buried in you—that you dare to open your eyes again.

Hawks is staring blankly, an expression you’ve never seen before, so stark from the usual quirk of his lips and tilt of his chin. Blank, but calculating. You can see the gears clanking as his thoughts rush a mile a minute, faster than he’d ever dream of soaring over the city skyline.

He blinks once, twice, then again and you can see the redness blooming at the corners as his eyes grow glassy between each flutter of lashes. And then, as though moving through honey, he draws back from you, only to crawl up your body until your noses touch.

You hold your breath, lip caught between your teeth, but his slicked thumb comes up to pull it out of your gnawing reach. He strokes across the puffy skin, never meeting your gaze, until he slowly, slowly leans down.

It’s not really a kiss, more of an accidental brush, so little of your lips touch you could easily have imagined it. When he speaks again, you can feel him forming the words against you.

“I—” he starts and licks his lips and yours and you don’t think it’s an accident, “I can’t.”

It isn’t what you want him to say, but it’s better than a silent loss .

You know truth when you hear it.

“I know.”

And you do, you do know, you’ve always known. He’s darker when he’s not with you. You’ve seen the carnage he leaves behind broadcasted on screens, but it’s never stopped the ache before.

He can’t keep you the way you want, can’t have things that get in the way.

You can only touch him when he’s dying. You can heal him, reform his flesh and bone—pull him back from the brink—but you’ll never feel his chest against yours or his hair slipping through your fingers or have all of him buried inside you. He’ll never love you like you want him to.

It doesn’t stop you from wishing.

And apparently, it doesn’t stop Hawks from kissing you anyway.

“I can’t,” he repeats and it sounds so broken you almost think that wound has reopened and he’s going to start slipping away again.

But the only thing that slips is his tongue past your lips and tangling with your own.

And then the levee breaks.

It’s a sudden torrent of hands and legs knotting together like the torn edges of too many injuries. Hawks covers every available part of you like an addict seeking his fix. It’s breathless and uncoordinated but you��ve never felt more alive, alight, aflame.

He presses his lips to yours again, pulling away and then diving back in. Frantic hands pull you off the mattress until your back is against the headboard and he’s straddling your lap. You take the opportunity to sink your fingers into that goldenrod hair and it’s just as silky as you’d imagined it to be.

Hawks moans into your mouth, kissing you wildly, like the beast he is with teeth clacking and your tongue sucked between his lips.

“I can’t,” he keeps mumbling, between groans and hips grinding and hands grabbing, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t— “

You wonder then which one of you he’s trying to convince.

But you don’t ask, just let your hands wander to the delicious curve of his ass on your thighs and squeeze, rolling his bulge against you. His fingers push and proud, ghosting across your chest and stopping to pinch your nipple. He drinks down the whimpers you let out, letting his lips wander your jaw and throat, sucking bruises—leaving his own scars on you—as he goes. He pushes you back down to the pillows so his lips can continue their work, latching onto the quickly hardening bud and suckling lightly. His groan sends little shockwaves through you and he looks up with brows furrowed like he’s in pain with how good it all feels.

“I’m sorry,” he says and it’s so soft you barely hear it between licks at your chest.

“No,” you finally find it in you to respond, shaking your head and pulling him back to your lips.

“I’m sorry,” he says again while you nip at his earlobe and down his jaw, tight pants yielding under your hands as they’re tugged away so he’s just as bare as you.

“No,” you shake your head and any response dies on his tongue as you dig your fingers into the feathers at the base of his wings and pull him forward.

Hawks lets out a choked gasp as his length, bare, hard, and leaking glides across your cunt. Any other time, you’d have liked to savor this moment. Get on your knees and worship his pretty cock—and you know it's pretty, just from your short glimpse. He’s long and perfectly thick, just how you dreamed he would be. The cute tuft of blond curls at his base is course in the best way as you trail your fingers through it to take him in your palm.

“Ahh,” he keens, arching above you with his head thrown back as you stroke him for the first time.

It’s been so long, you're not sure how you ever resisted this before. Not with how heavy and warm he is in your fist.

“Hawks,” you moan, sucking at the dip in his collarbone and moving to bite at his nipple. “Hawks, please.”

“I—” you think he might protest but you flick your thumb over the tip and it pours precum to help the slide of your fingers.

He’s already got those powerful arms hooked under your knees, all he has to do is lean forward and sink into that tight, awaiting heat, and he knows it. You can see the resolve cracking.

“Hawks,” you beg again. Because you are begging, that’s what this is.

And he looks at you, drool slipping from the corner of his mouth and brows all bunched up with his head shaking.

“Hawks.”

His hands grip the underside of your thighs and knock your hand from his dick.

“Hawks.”

His forehead comes down to rest against yours, eyes squeezed shut and red at the edges. You feel the sting at the corners as if they were your own.

“Hawks.”

You can only touch him when he’s dying.

Is he dying now?

Are you killing him?

“Hawks.”

His breath hitches, whatever he might have said is long gone when the head of his cock catches against your entrance.

“Hawks—”

He sinks in to the hilt all at once and the last utterance of his name is a yelp. Your walls clamp down hard around the intrusion, so much bigger than his fingers, so hot and long and thick as he pulses inside you.

There are no words after that.

No names, no refusals, just his face pressed up on yours as he pushes your thighs to your chest and rolls his hips, fucking you evenly into the mattress.

Not soft or slow or overly rough.

Though it is all of those things at once as well.

Hawks has always been full of contradictions. It makes sense that this is too.

Both your eyes stay open, lips brushing and sharing breath as he slips a hand back down to your clit and starts those perfect circles up again.

He doesn’t ask you questions now. Just stares in your eyes and sinks his cock into your over and over until you feel fuller, more complete than you ever have in the whole of your life.

There’s no warning leading up to the end. You feel the crest approaching, the coil waiting to snap low in your belly and you don’t dare take your eyes off his face. You need to commit the entirety of this moment to memory. Just in case.

Just in case it never happens again.

Or worse, it happens over and over until it doesn’t.

Until you run out of chances to touch him.

Until he comes to you too far gone.

“Oh fuck,” he mutters and that’s all the warning you get.

All the warning you have the strength to listen to as you tumble over the edge, waves of rolling pleasure burning under your skin. You clench hard around his cock as his hips stutter in their pace, thrusting unevenly as you gush and he spills rope after rope of hot release deep into you.

And you’d been wrong before, because this was full. This was whole, your stilling bodies pressed together at every point with his cock still hard and twitching as your walls milked him of cum that warmed you from the inside out.

This is what you would die for.

***

Later when you stumble into unwilling wakefulness, there are hands tucking a thin sheet over your bare skin.

Hawks has pulled himself from you after resting like you’d told him he should. He’s dressing, though not hurriedly, and you can’t find it in your jelly bones to move or stop him.

You’re both silent, even when he looks down to find your eyes alert and raking over him—costume donned and wings prepared for flight.

His face is drawn in a way that might have been resentment. Maybe towards you for breaking his resolve, maybe at himself for indulging in what he cannot have.

I can’t.

You hear the words as clear as though he’d just said them.

I can’t.

Can’t have you. Can’t forget his purpose. Can’t have gentle things.

Hawks is a villain, first and foremost, above all else and that includes you.

So you don’t move to stop him as he walks softly through your door. You just watch as he makes his way to the open window and perches on the ledge. He does look back, only briefly, to see you draped across the sheets, head resting on your arm and staring at him as he leaves you.

The ghost of that cheeky grin crawls its way onto his face before he tips backwards off the landing and into the night sky. He winks once before the indigo of the night swallows him like the maw of a leviathan. The city has teeth and it will chew him up and spit him back out into your arms soon enough.

So you’re content to wait.

You know this isn’t the last time. That he’ll come back to you as he’s always done. And offer you more and more of himself each time.

Because you can only touch him when he’s dying.

And this world is nothing if not determined to kill him.

So you can keep your purpose.

And by extension, you can keep him.