#What a pair of ordinals

[allekha]

Let's start over again....

Congrats to Amber on her bronze medal comeback from 11th place!

Bonus:

[saintmuses]

❝𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙝 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣❞

Pairing:

Soft!Dark!Thomas Shelby x Ada’s BSF!Reader

Summary:

Ada’s best friend had been much of a family. When she was requested for her hand in marriage to another, perhaps she was too much of a family.

Warning(s): slightly Dub-con. Inappropriate touching. Possessive!Thomas. Implied Jealousy. Threat. Controlling. Minors, dni! Note: this is a mini series, so there will be three parts.

Word Count: 963

She had remembered the feeling the first time she had met Thomas Shelby. He was a kind of person who laughed with a twinkle in his eyes.

She was seventeen when she became Ada’s first friend in Birmingham, and she had only got to meet him for a few months before he enlisted for the Great War. After he came back, his pale blue eyes cascaded in ice, and he didn’t laugh or smile anymore. However, he became more receptive towards her, always having eyes on her as if she was a member of his family or Peaky Blinders.

Ada’s painted lips grew taut as she looked at her apologetically. “Oh, about that…” she trailed off with a sigh as a response to her impending marriage proposal with the man she had been going steady with for a while now.

“What is it, Ada?”

“You would need to consult with Tommy about that. Although I don’t think you should…” Ada trailed off, realizing she had said too much.

Her eyes narrowed at the Shelby sister, catching onto what she was not saying. “And why not?”

Ada hesitated, “I’ve heard that Edward already asked for your hand, but evidently Tommy did not give his blessing.”

Her blood ran cold at the implication of not being able to marry Edward. “Why do I need to ask Tommy for permission to walk down the aisle?” She questioned, fiddling with the hem of her coat. “I’m not really a part of this family.”

“Well, Tommy already considered you as a part of the Shelby family, otherwise he would not let you attend the meetings.” Ada pointed out, flicking off an invisible lint off her coat.

“You mean to tell me that I have to consult with Tommy with any decisions I make regarding my future?” She enunciated each word slowly, but with tension filled with anger. Ada’s gaze turned sympathetic.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, you are not the only one.”

“No,” she said sharply as she fumed internally. Her eyes flashed in irritation. “Because he has already gotten involved with making decisions for my future that has nothing to do with the business of the Shelby family.”

Slamming the doors open with a soft bang, she stormed into his office without glancing at Lizzie who was about to greet her.

“Thomas!” She shouted, gritting her teeth.

He barely looked up from his paperwork that was scattered around on his ordinate desk. “Y/N,” he said simply, placing his pen aside.

She heard Lizzie closing the doors behind her so no one else could interrupt them.

“I heard you received a visitor recently,” she prodded angrily, eyebrows raising to prompt him to speak.

He heaved a sigh which bristled her, and she crossed her arms when he ran his hands down his face before rubbing his eyes as if he just received a headache.

I swear this man-

His words interrupted her internal tirade. “He asked me for your hand in marriage,” he said calmly, intertwining his fingers on top of the desk. “And I said no.”

���And why not?”

He pushed himself out of the chair, grabbing a decanter to pour himself a fresh drink of Irish whiskey. “Because it does not benefit the family if you were to marry a man like him.” Her eye twitched slightly when she heard the glass met wood as he placed the tumbler back on the desk.

“A man like-“ she cut herself off, trying again before anger got the best of her. “He’s respectable, he has wealth which he would be able to provide support for his and my future family, and-“

“And I said no, Y/N.” He said sharply, interrupting her which effectively caused her to close her mouth. His words were stern as he stared down at her with icy blue eyes. 

She looked at him in disbelief, a sense of chill ran through her veins when things did not connect, fitted like pieces of a puzzle. “You can’t make choices for me.”

His lips quirked slightly, “you’ll find that I can.”

Her eyebrows slowly furrowed as she stared up at him, observing his expression. 

Before she could lunge out of the armchair, away from the office, and away from him, he had already anticipated her move, reaching for her.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, dragging her to him, gripping her tightly with a clenched jaw and unbridle danger lurking in his strict gaze.

“Careful, sweetheart.” He warned her softly; However, his tone gave away to the threat that was simmering underneath the surface. 

Her bottom lip trembling as she peered up at him with glistening eyes. “Why would you do that?” She asked quietly, voice shaking inaudibly. “Why would you get involved with my life when it doesn’t even benefit you to begin with?” 

He didn’t say anything yet as his thumb teased the waistband of her skirt before his fingers lightly skimming down between her thighs, brushing her cunt over the thin opaque material and her underwear. 

She was shocked by how reactive her body was to his ghostly touch. She shook her head, looking pleadingly into his cold eyes for some sense of mercy.

He tilted his head before he pressed down hard on her clit through multiple layers of fabrics. She gasped, her entire body jerking at the unfamiliar combination of pleasure and a twinge of pain that seemed to render her immobile, not without a shudder.

He then leaned his head forward, closing the distance between their faces. He lightly brushed his lips against hers, barely touching. “Because if you were going to marry anyone, it would be me.” He murmured, his voice was dangerous as he stared deeply into her eyes before releasing her, stepping away from her presence.

act II | ❝𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙮𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙮 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙣❞

[drabblesandimagines]

Trunk

Leon Kennedy x female reader (BSAA) for this request Fluffy, bit of mild spice, bit of blood, mention of panic attack, swears

It was meant to be straightforward surveillance ahead of the main op. Monitor the drop – the metal suitcase fitted with a tracking chip and three fake virus vials – note any observations about the pick-up, then inform the rest of the Wolf Hound Squad who would track the co-ordinates to find the terrorists’ base of operations.

You had pouted a little at being sidelined from the main action, but Chris needed someone stealthy to keep an eye over the drop and, with a squeeze to your shoulder, your track record meant you were the prime candidate.

You’d set yourself up in the eaves of the abandoned warehouse that served as the drop-off point, armed with a pair of binoculars, an ear piece and a couple of guns, as always, for if anything went south...

..which it did the moment you detected movement from the south-east corner. It took a few attempts to get them in focus, but your heart sank when you recognized the figure – one Leon S Kennedy of the DSO rolling between abandoned shipping containers, honing in on the one you’d placed the metal suitcase in a few hours previously.

What the hell is he doing here?

You press down on your earpiece and it beeps once, opening the line to transmit. “Alpha to Lupe. Got a problem. Over.”

Silence.

“Alpha to Lupe. Got a problem. Over.”

Nothing – again. Maybe your current position has poor signal, but there’s no time to troubleshoot when squealing tyres echo around the structure, alerting you to the two black cars swerving in and heading to the shipping container in question.

The cars stop, their engines remaining idle and five well-built and well-dressed men depart – three from one, two from another.

Through your binoculars, you see Leon head straight for them, gun raised.

Shit.

--

You are jolted back into consciousness when your crown smacks on something hard, before being ricocheted back down to your nose cracking against something firm, groaning as you come to.

“Finally awake, sleeping beauty?”

The voice is familiar and rumbles through your chest with the horrible realization that you’re lying on top of someone. You try and scoot back, whacking your head again and a sinking feeling as you feel plastic digging into your wrists, keeping them bound behind you.

It all comes flooding back.

Numerous gunshots go off as you slide down the ladder back to the ground floor, half expecting to find Leon bleeding out or even dead on the concrete. Instead, he’s being heaved up by his armpits, unconscious, and pushed into the trunk of one of the cars, half in, half out as one of the heavy-set men commences a search, confiscating a multitude of weapons with a scoff.

You can’t see any other bodies, which is strange. Is Kennedy getting slow in his old age?

At the other car, a man with a blonde pony-tail is bent down, talking through the window to someone you can’t see. “Go on ahead with the package.”

The driver seems to protest, but ponytail shakes his head.

“We’ll take the rat elsewhere, have some fun… We’ll join you back at base after. Go.” He thumps the top of the car with his fist to emphasize his point.

The idling car now hits the gas with gusto, the tyres burning against the concrete before it skids out of sight.

The heavy-set man seems to have concluded his search of the unconscious agent by then, finishing with what looks to be Leon’s phone. He considers it for a moment before he drops it to the floor and grinds it into the concrete with the heel of his shoe, the screen splintering and plastic cracking under his weight.

He then leans into the trunk before holding Leon’s arms behind his back and securing his wrists with what looks like a zip tie, before heaving up his legs and giving his ankles the same treatment.

You grit your teeth as you think – you don’t have much time. They’re not taking Leon to the HQ, so it’s not like you can catch up and let the rest of the squad know they’ve got a hostage.

The other car’s gone, one of the guys is distracted, if you just-

“Well, well…” There’s a gun pressed to the small of your back and your stomach sinks. You’d thought the two remaining were the ones you had in your eyesight, assuming three others had got back into the other car, but one seems to have been prowling. Fuck, you’re better than this usually. Are you and Kennedy both having an off day?

A thick forearm wraps around your throat in a headlock.

“Drop the gun.”

Before you can even think of how to get out of the hold, a knee is forced between your thighs, weakening your stance and preventing any sort of retaliation you might be able to achieve with your legs. The forearm tenses and cuts off all air, the order repeated and it is not until your grip on your gun goes limp, letting it drop to the floor that it relaxes, leaving you gasping for breath.

“We’ve already caught ourselves a rat this evening, suppose it makes sense we catch a mouse next.”

You try and throw your head back in desperation - if you break his nose he’ll definitely let go, but there’s not enough room and the arm around your throat squeezes again, but this time there is no relief, only a smug whisper in your ear.

“Sweet dreams, little mouse.”

 Everything went black.

You squint in the dark of what you assume is the car trunk – an eerie red glow emitting from the corners which you presume are the taillights – and your eyes slowly begin to adjust to find two icy blue ones staring up at you under familiar bangs. “Leon?” Your voice is a little hoarse, but it’s better than being dead.

“One and only. Gotta say, this is a surprise. Been a while.”

You try and roll off his chest entirely but it’s awkward and cramped. The trunk is not large enough to be accommodating two adults, let alone one as muscular as Leon. You manage to shift most of your weight off him, though your legs are somewhat still entangled, ankles crisscrossed together with the same zip tie treatment. You cough, trying to relieve the tightness in your throat. “What are you doing here? This is a BSAA op.”

“DSO had intel of a terrorist cell being supplied with virus samples.” He tries to shuffle back a little, take in your face after you lying atop of him unconscious for however long.

“It’s a fake – it’s our drop.”

“What?”

“I was doing surveillance to confirm they accepted the suitcase with the tracker – the rest of the pack is gonna intercept their base once co-ordinates are confirmed.”

You see him raise his eyebrow in the dim light. “Pack? Redfield still going by that wolf crap?”

 “Oh, because birds are so cool, right?” You retort, though you’re more annoyed at your situation than him.

“How’d they get you?”

“Does it matter?” You avoid the question, not wanting to tell him the real reason you’d got caught was because you’d been concerned seeing him being shoved into the trunk.

“We’ve gotta get out of these restraints. I can try and…” You trail off, your breath catching in your throat. You pull fruitlessly at the plastic holding your wrists, ignoring the sharp pain, and try and bring your knees up to your chest.

“Already tried, there’s not enough space.” Leon interjects. “Maybe if I was here solo…”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you mean to sound sarcastic, but with how you’re breathing it sounds more like a genuine apology. “I just thought it looked so fun when I saw you being kidnapped so I had to join in, you know?”

You’re breathing too heavy now, but it’s not getting down into your lungs. You’re not sure if it’s because your windpipe was crushed earlier, or that you’re on your side in an awkward position, or the fact that you’re stuffed in the trunk of a car with potentially limited oxygen.

Fuck.

“Hey.” Leon’s voice sounds foggy.

You shuffle as best you can, hoping a change in position might open up your airways, but it feels like as if the trunk is closing in around you.

“Hey. You good?”

“I…”

“You need to breathe deeper than that, okay?”

Deep down, in your logical mind, you know you do, but in the panic it’s just not happening, and your breaths grow only shallower. Your throat is too tight, the zip tie around your wrist and ankles is too tight, the space in here is too tight. Leon tenses his forearms behind his back for the umpteenth time, willing the plastic to break as he sees you falling further and further into distress. His words aren't getting through and he can't really touch you either, can't grab your hand or your shoulder and try and ground you for a moment to catch your breath. “I’m so sorry.” Leon throws his head forward and kisses you – not square on the lips, more at the corner of your open mouth, messy and awkward - but it’s enough to knock you out of hyperventilating as your scalp tingles.

“Breathe.” He orders, pulling back.

“You just-”

“Breathe. There’s plenty of oxygen in here – it’s not airtight. Breathe.”

You close your eyes and mouth and take a deep inhale through your nose, spluttering a little as you try to hold it. It takes a few cycles, Leon keeping silent as you gather your bearings, but eventually it steadies.

“Sorry.” You mumble, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry – I shouldn’t have kissed you, I just couldn’t think of how else to divert your focus.”

“No, it’s okay. Definitely worked.”

There’s an awkward silence before Leon shuffles ever so slightly.

“Promise you won’t tell Redfield? I’d rather not have my neck snapped.”

“Why would he do that?”

“You... You two aren’t a thing?”

“No.” Your brow furrows. “He’s my captain. My life’s already complicated enough fighting bioweapons without throwing in dating my superior.”

“Oh. I thought…” He shrugs as best as he can before you can see the infamous cocky grin. “Well, how about you and I grab dinner after this?”

“If there is an after this.” You try and swallow down the anxious feeling that’s crawling up from your stomach once more. “Being moved to a second location against your will is nev- Ugh!”

The car drives over a pothole but, thankfully, your head doesn’t collide with the top of the trunk. Leon groans as the impact threw him over onto his front before he mutters under his breath and starts to grind his hips.

“Holy shit.”

“What?”

“I think they missed a weapon.”

“Really?” Your voice perks up. “What?”

“A knife.”

“How’d they miss a knife?”

“Is that a complaint?” Leon scoffs.

“No, just seems a bit amateur hour. Can you reach it?”

“Not a chance, but, er…”, he clears his throat, “you might. We’re gonna have to try and adjust positions first, I’ll need your back to my chest.”

“Okay. Erm…” You scooch yourself forward with your hip and heel of your boot - easier said than done as the trunk grows narrower the further you go down, your knees bunching up towards your chest. “Like that?”

“Gimme a sec.” He responds through gritted teeth, trying to roll over again. Whatever make car this is, it’s not American – the trunk space is abysmal. Eventually, he manages it, shuffling himself forward until your fingers are pressed up against what feels like his chest.

“Hey!” He snaps with a poorly concealed laugh as your fingers twitch against the fabric. “That tickles.”

“Sorry – reflex. Where is it?”

“Well, put simply, my crotch.”

You give yourself a moment to let the words sink in.

“You keep a knife in your crotch? How have you not cut off your-?”

“It’s more a scalpel than a knife,” he cuts you off. “And it’s hidden away in the lining – in-built sheath – near the fly. Think you can find it?”

You close your eyes tight, thinking it might help you focus. Your thumb brushes up against something firm and you feel Leon tense behind you.

“Is that…?”

 “My jockstrap, thank you.” He clears his throat again. “Higher than that and more to the left.”

You try to follow his instructions, but it’s impossible to go any higher, unable to bend your elbows. “I don’t think I can. Can you shuffle down any?”

“Er…” He tries, shifting down an inch or so, his knees pressing into the back of yours in a spoon, his breath tickling your ear as he settles back down. “There. Bit to the left again.”

You close your eyes again, feeling the zip with your thumb and head to the left until you feel what feels like a thin tube.

“That?”

“Yep. Now, just try and bring it up and out. The blade’s at the bottom.”

That’s easier said than done as you press your thumbs either side of it and feel it move ever so slightly up. It’s a slow and steady process, not helped with the fact of how sweaty your palms are now getting with Leon pressed right up against you. “I think it’s nearly there. If the blade’s at the bottom, can you shuffle back? I don’t wanna slice you open.”

“You got a good grip?”

You swear you can hear the grin in his voice with that one.

“As good as I ever will.”

He scoots back a little, not as far as possible, but enough room so you can pull the scalpel implement up and twirl it around carefully in your grip so you can start to saw against the zip-tie.

“Got it.”

“Does it feel like it’s working?”

“Yeah. Just kinda awkwa-" There’s a stinging pain in your palm as the knife slices through and you hiss.

“What?”

“Got my palm.”

“Bad?”

“Had worse.” You bite your lip at the pain then, eyes squeezed shut again, trying to visualize what might be going on behind your back. Your movements are miniscule, a concern that that if you went any faster you’d slip in your enthusiasm and stab Leon.

It feels like hours when you finally feel the tension give and your wrists are free of the horrid plastic.  

“Got it. Just…” Mindful of your bleeding palm, you roll over with your good hand and lean up, pushing Leon face down so you can set to work on his wrists. It only takes a few confident saws, despite how slick your palm is with blood, before the agent groans and pulls his arms in front of him.

You pull your knees up to your chest and quickly slice through the restraints around your ankles, before handing the scalpel to Leon to do the same. His fingers pinch your other wrist instead, bringing your bleeding palm up close to his face to analyze in the dim light.

“Shit, that’s deep.”

“It’s fine,” you try and shake off his hold, but his grip remains firm.

“That’ll be the blood loss talking. Hold on.” He pulls up his shirt with his free hand and rips at the hem with his teeth, tearing off a rough strip, before he begins to wrap it around your palm in an attempt to stem the bleeding.

“There.” He announces, tying it off with a tight knot. “Not ideal, but it’ll have to do for now.”

“Thanks.” You cradle it back against your stomach and hand him over the blade so he can finally cut through the zip-tie around his ankles. It seems just in time too, as the car begins to slow.

“How do you want to play this?”

“You sit tight, I deal with whoever opens the trunk… then we go for dinner.”

“You know I am not a sit tight kinda gal, right?”

“We’ve only got one knife.”

“One scalpel.” You correct.

“Exactly.” The car stops.

“Roll over, face the back.” He orders, taking control. “I’ll go the other way – they won’t be able to see our hands. When they lean in to haul me out…”

The dulled sound of the car doors opening leaves you with no choice but to turn away as instructed and your hand brushes up against Leon’s as you tuck them back behind your back. With the hand that’s not holding the scalpel, he grabs hold of your uninjured hand and squeezes your fingers in reassurance.

The trunk opens.

Leon is peering through his lashes, bangs over his eyes, as his captor comes into view, gun raised. He nudges Leon’s shoulder with the barrel, watching the agent’s head lull back before holstering his weapon and preparing to heave Leon out of the trunk.

And that’s when he takes his chance, scalpel in hand, straight into the jugular, his other hand nabbing the gun out of the holster as he twists himself up and out of the trunk before the man can hit the ground.

Before you can get up to join him, he slams the trunk back down. You curse, hearing back and forth gunshots before the trunk opens again a few minutes later, Leon stood there with an apologetic smile.

“Coast is clear. We’re down at the docks – I can’t believe I let myself get caught by these amateurs.”

“Well, I can’t believe you shut the trunk on me!” You shuffle forward using your good hand, relieved to be sitting upright at last, legs dangling out from the trunk.

“I’m sorry - I know most guys bring their dates flowers,” he pulls another confiscated gun out of his back pocket – must be his prize from the other guy – and offers it out to you, “but something tells me you’d accept this instead?”

You take it with a smirk and a retort too good to pass up on. “You’re really gunning for this dinner date, huh, Kennedy?”

He leans forward and pushes you back into the trunk with a kiss.

--

This is so, so silly but I had fun x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

[hotmencore]

“𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐟, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ” 𝐋𝐍𝟒

Pairing: Lando Norris x girlfriend!reader (she/her)

Summary: Lando makes the silly mistake of thinking he can teach his girlfriend how to play golf.

Warnings: None, pure fluff

Word count: 600+

A/N: I know nothing about golf

Likes and reblogs are much appreciated! Copying and reposts are not! My fics are only posted on tumblr, under this account, @hotmencore

"Okay baby, hold it here with your left hand," Lando guides you, taking a hold of your hand and placing it on the end of the golf club, "and put your right hand here" placing it slightly beneath your left.

"Now just move slightly this way" Lando softly mumbles, placing his hands on your hips to move you round in the right direction to successfully hit the ball.

"Okay, now swing the club backwards, and swing forward to hit the ball" Lando once again guides, stepping backwards in order to let you do so.

You do as your boyfriend says, swinging back, and swinging forwards, the end of the club aiming for the golf ball perched on the tee in the ground. But seeing that you've never played before, your co-ordination isn't the greatest, and your club flies straight past the ball and tee.

Your hands shoot up to your face in embarrassment, as Lando hides a chuckle.

"Landooo, I don't want to do thisss, I suck" you puff out, already irritated by your pure incompetence of the sport Lando so willingly plays 24/7.

"It's fine, baby, its your first time playing, don't worry" Lando reassures as he walks over to you, a smile still lingering on his face. He pulls your hands away from your face, club still in your hand, and guides you back into the position you were in before-hand. This time around, his body stays flush to yours from behind you, and his hands linger on your own, now fully instructing you on how to swing.

"Just relax baby" he says quietly into your ear, as you take a small breath and untense your arms and shoulders.

Lando leads you, and in one smooth movement, swings with force, hitting the ball off the tee and simultaneously out of view.

You look back at Lando over your shoulder, and smile at your, technically his, successful hit.

"There you go, you don't totally suck after all" Lando grins, earning a chuckle from you, and in return a soft kiss on the lips from your boyfriend.

You both carry on down the course closer to the cup, as Lando proceeds to help you with your swings each time. Lando eventually pots his ball, and gives you the chance to do the same as yours is only a few feet off the cup. But this time, he lets you do it on your own.

"Remember what i told you, and you'll get it in, i'm positive" Lando says from beside you, as you stand in the position he had taught you formerly.

You coordinate the ball and the cup, and swing ever so slightly, tapping the golf ball with the end of the club. The ball rolls slowly, you and Lando both following it with anticipation in your eyes, and stand in silence as you both watch it roll past the cup.

You look up at Lando, and this time chuckle as you spot the hidden smile playing at his lips. He also joins in with the laughter as he saunters over to you, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you flush to him.

"Dont worry about it baby, you suck at golf, but I still love you" Lando says with a big grin, leaning in to kiss you, this time passionately, as his hand tightens around your waist, one moving up to softly caress your back. Your hand lets go of the club as they travel to wrap around his shoulders, deepening the kiss as your bodies collide even more.

After a few minutes of you too simply living in the moment, you both grab all of Lando's equipment, and drive back to the club in the buggy.

"You should try things I enjoy, like painting or something" you suggest, looking up at Lando.

"Nah, i'm alright" he replies, keeping his eyes focused on the course in front of him.

You wait for a few seconds, and as you thought, he looked down at you with a smile, "I'm joking love, anything i'm doing spent with you is heaven" he says, wrapping an arm around your shoudler pulling you close, momentarily looking and leaning towards you to kiss you on the cheek.

[taylorswiftstyle]

The Eras Tour | 1989 section | Version 7

Roberto Cavalli custom Christian Louboutin custom

One of the signature elements of the Eras Tour costuming has been balancing visually referencing eras past, but refreshing them for the modern day. Her co-ordinating tops and skirts worn for the 1989 section are a great example. The previous quad of beaded ensembles (pink, gree[eeeee]n, orange, and blue) all featured colours and coordination that embodied the polish and shine of the original 1989 era but in a new, fitted skirt silhouette.

With the European leg of the tour, Taylor introduced a new series of 1989 costumes by Fausto Puglisi for Roberto Cavalli that are a shift from the original design concept.

From the ombre shading, the skater skirt fit, the incorporation of the Cavalli big cat emblem at the bust, and the two tone element. To me it all falls much closer to the original costuming of the 1989 Tour with bralettes and metallic skater skirts by Jessica Jones. Many of the new outfits debuted in Paris seem to have undergone what I call a 'makeunder' to more closely resemble their original, canonical tour ensembles and not the refreshed 'Taylor Versions’ we’ve seen thus far on the Eras Tour in 2023/24.

While Taylor also has the opportunity to mix/match these coloured sets to create endless new pairing possibilities, based on the sketches my thought is that these two-tone sets were created with the intention of being mismatched, right down to the coordinating Louboutins. And on that note, there is one very famous New Yorker known for mismatching her Louboutins which, if intentional, would be an apt 1989 era reference: the one and only Carrie Bradshaw.

Photo by Kevin Mazur/TAS24 via Getty Images

[joonsytip]

The Selfish Dilemma || Jeonghan [Teaser]

Pairings: Jeonghan x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Co-workers to Lovers au, IT Co-ordinator!Jeonghan au, Team Lead!Reader au, Unrequited au (at first), Office au

Synopsis: It was love at first sight ever since you laid eyes on Jeonghan. To him, you are the annoying co-worker who keeps asking him out. No one is new to your courting agenda which only pisses off Jeonghan but what happens when you stop, all at once....

Warnings: pinning, unrequited at first, lots of office jargons (coz I'm myself an IT employee lol), redemption, scrooge Jeonghan turning puppy Jeonghan later, suggestive, eventual smut breeding kink, overstimulation, cunnilingus (more to be added)

Dropping early next month. It will be a two part series!

Banner credits to my baby @hoeforhao <3

A/N: To be added to the taglist please send an ask or comment under this announcement post.

MINORS DNI!

A/N2: Get ready to get some major second lead syndrome, guesses about who's gonna he be are welcomed!

Please heart, comment and reblog if it piques your interest, would really help to keep me going <3

Main story out now, checkout here!

[SVT Main Masterlist] [SVT Flick - Fics Masterlist]

Teaser under the cut!

"How do you always manage to look so gorgeous?", you ask him giddily knowing very well that you won't be getting a response from him.

The security at the check smiles when you direct your requesting gaze at her. She let's you pass by and you're doing large strides in your heels.

"Here..", you are handing him the beverage cup, "Have a great day, Han!", you wish him and he doesn't even bat an eyelash as he saunters over to avail the elevator.

You stand there watching him as your lips curl up because your gazes meet for the first time before the elevator door closes.

When you had switched to the current company you're working for two years ago as a Senior Developer you had never thought in your wildest dreams that you'd be turning into a lovesick puppy for the technical analyst of the team you had just gotten assigned to.

Everyone seemed nice when they greeted you with enthusiasm except one. Yoon Jeonghan was stoic throughout and for you, that heart within your chest thumped vigorously, eyes glued to him and the surroundings seemed to freeze.

Love at first sight was just a funny concept until Jeonghan made you experience it in practical.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

[parkerpeter24]

Sending in req, wedding anniversary w/ peter can be smut or not but a lot of fluff <3

OKAY I LOVE THE IDEA thanks so much for sending this in 🤍 i tried my best idk why my writing feels a bit rusty and this isn’t that long 🥸🤧 also i accidentally made this pre-wedding anniversary 😭

pairing ➳ peter parker x reader

requests are open

masterlist

the remnants of last night flooded your mind, leaving a wide smile covering your face as soon as you woke up. peter’s arm were wrapped firmly around you but he shuffled when he heard the change in your pattern of breathing.

you turned around in his arms and he pulled you closer, “g’morning, boyfriend. happy anniversary.”

you watched with partly closed eyelids as peter’s eyebrows furrowed, lips downturned, “i’m your fiancé!”

“right. i know.” you chuckled as he nudged his nose against yours. peter, your boyfriend since four years, had finally proposed to you one night before your anniversary, and despite him being the worst at secret-keeping, this one was exceptionally well kept. but knowing peter, you would have expected something like that from him anyway.

“why’d you say boyfriend?” he asked.

“you know, it was fun being your girlfriend. it’s like an end of an era.” you shrugged, getting up finally to start the day.

peter shook his head, “happy anniversary, fiancé.”

the two of you made breakfast together, stealing kisses every once in a while as you worked around the kitchen in co-ordination. peter cut up some strawberries while you baked pancakes.

“we should run to the grocery store later.” you stated as the two of you sat down at the dining table, besides instead of sitting across each other.

“why?” peter asked.

“there’s basically nothing left in the fridge.” you said before dipping your spoon in the nutella jar and pulling out a flood of the chocolate spread, covering your pancake in it.

“whoa! easy there, willy wonka.” peter teased, making you laugh.

“it’s alright. not like i’ve gotta maintain a figure, i got a boyfriend.”

peter’s face, once more turned sour with distaste. not from your pancakes but from what you’d just said, “i’m your fiancé.”

“yes, i’ve got a fiancé.” you gave him a grin before taking a bite from your stack of pancakes.

the two of you took a trip down to the grocery store around noon. peter gathered all the items from your list while you were busy exploring the snacks section, finally deciding on a few packs of readymade popcorn for your movie night later and some reese’s peanut butter cups.

on your way out from the store, you stumbled into your neighbour, mj. she noticed the ring immediately and her eyes widened in excitement.

peter realised you two hadn’t told anyone about your engagement. peter noticed the look of confusion over your face as mj congratulated you.

the brunette took your hand in his, pulling it up to your eye level so you could see the beautiful ring sitting on your ring finger, “fiancé.” he mouthed to you.

“oh! thanks a lot, mj.” you smiled at the kind girl.

you were sitting on the couch, legs stretched to rest over the coffee table as you waited for peter to bring the snacks out. the first scene of the movie you two had mutually agreed upon– after a long, long conversation over how star wars is better than rom coms– was paused over the screen as you tapped away on your mobile phone.

you were talking to gwen, telling her the whole thing since she wanted every little detail about how peter proposed to you. you sent her the last text as peter settled beside you, leaving against your shoulder, “watcha doin’?”

“nothing, just telling gwen about my fiancé.” you emphasized on the word.

“finally!” peter cheered, making you laugh as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

the two of you cuddled on the couch as you started ‘the proposal’.

not to your surprise, peter was straddling your hips as the end credits rolled. his hands, warm under your t-shirt, travelled up, pulling the fabric along with them.

your tongue worked its way past your lover’s lips, exploring his mouth. your hand travelled to the nape of his neck, playing with the soft curls as he pulled away for breath. his lips attached to your jaw, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake, then over your neck. you felt him gently bite the skin over your sensitive spot, making you gasp, “peter! no teasing.”

peter pulled away to look you in the eye, giving you a smug look “what? i just wanna make sweet love to my girlfriend.”

“fiancé!” you scolded before sealing the gap between you two once more.

[starstruckwillows]

— fashion obsessed s/o ♡

requested by @juneberrie <3

includes: annabeth chase, frank zhang, hazel levesque, jason grace, leo valdez, percy jackson, piper mclean — gn!reader

annabeth chase 🏢

has never given fashion much thought really, but the more she sees you pouring over magazines and sketches, the more she sees how it could be interesting. it’ll probably never be a priority to her, but she thinks it’s cool, and you two can side-by-side sketch dresses and buildings. she may even ask for design opinion, as you have a trained eye for colour, style and proportion, particularly on her more modern designs. if your clothes ever get mixed up, she’ll easily separate them by what’s a variety of colour, and style, and what’s navy tank tops and denim shorts.

frank zhang 🐻

fascination. genuine fascination. he never had time to pay attention to fashion or trends or anything like that, and camp jupiter didn’t boast it’s colour co-ordination skills all that much. he’s surprised he has any clothes that aren’t armour. but as you grow closer, he might take peeks at your bookmarked magazines to see what sort of thing you find fashionable, and put in an order. he won’t tell you, he’s too shy, but will wait for you to notice his new jumper or jeans or trainers. it’s few and far between times that he is able to scrap enough money together for them, so you make sure to notice any changes and compliment them.

hazel levesque 💎

it’s a shock for her to switch time periods and see the evolution of clothing. sometimes modern fashion will make her blush and stutter and turn her head. but seeing your passion for it has her coming around on the concept. i think hazel’s love language is gift giving, and i can see her grabbing you fashion related posters, magazines, sketchpads, or even items of clothing when she’s returning from a quest.

jason grace ☁️

he was so young when he joined lupa and later camp jupiter, that he honestly remembers very little about fashion. maybe a flash memory of his mother’s hollywood style, but that’s it. to have a partner who becomes genuinely excited by clothes is something he may never feel, but he’s happy if you’re happy, and he’ll readily offer any opinions you ask him for on outfits. except the boy doesn’t have the most advanced sense of co-ordination and style effect, so it’ll mostly be “i think you look great”, “they’re both beautiful”, etc. at least he means it. also - matching clothes. not full outfits, but a jumper, a pair of custom converse, or something more subtle like a bracelet.

leo valdez 🪛

leo likes to create things, and ‘things’ isn’t limited by much. he’s constantly finding your sketches and adding things to them such as fire-proof thread, concealments for daggers and other assorted weaponry. every design you come up with, he’s turned it into a full suit of stylish armour. he loves your clothes and shoes and will make a mess if you ask him to go get something from your wardrobe.

percy jackson 🐳

indulges you if you want to talk about it - it’s not something he thinks about much before meeting you, but ever since, he’ll pass clothing stores and think of you, and pick up fashion-related items as he goes. he opens his drawers and thinks of you. he now looks at the tattered shoes he’s worn for four years and thinks maybe it’s time to upgrade. accidentally and with no thought at all, percy has a decent sense of style. he will also let you dress him up to your heart’s content.

piper mclean 🤎

fashion and style goes against a lot of what piper lived her life by. she doesn’t hate it, but she was surrounded by it too much. but upon meeting you, and discovering archetypes of street fashion, and a wider variety of styles, she finds it’s actually fun and starts to love it. she will never follow a trend of fashion, but she doesn’t mind if you do. she’s the most supportive girlfriend ever, and will happily watch/listen while you engage with your interests. will also let you customise her clothes - e.g embroidered jeans, painted shoes, etc.

🏷️ — none yet

[creativenicocorner]

I don't have the words to acutely explain this desire.

But I would love to watch Laios Touden and Carrot Ironfoundersson interact.

There's something about them... you know?

LIKE????

Okay goofs aside, beyond Laios having carrots in his armor.

There's something about the pair of them. Their steadfastness, the earnestness, the 'is actually cleverer than they seem', the carrying acute amount of knowledge about what interests them (Laios: monsters. Carrot: rules and ordinances of Ankh-Morpork and Dwarf bread) the KINDNESS. OUGH

I could mention a very specific something else, but I don't want to spoil anime only watchers and those who have yet to read any Discworld book featuring Carrot (the watch series). If you know you know ;) 👑

I can't be alone in thinking this!! In seeing this!!

[cc--2224]

Second Impressions

Pairing: Crosshair x GN! Reader

Summary: You expected the worst when the Bad Batch were assigned to be your bodyguards, but first impressions aren't always everything. It doesn't take long for you to get close to them, well, most of them.

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, mentions of broken bones/injuries

Notes: Can be seen as platonic or romantic, however you'd like! Also, softer than normal Crosshair because I'm into that

Word Count: ~2.5k

Taglist: None, let me know if you'd like to be added!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

You didn't have a chance to react to the nearby explosion before you felt something collide with you. It felt like durasteel barreling into you, you felt a sharp pain and then a weight on top of you before it went quiet. Your eyes were glued shut, fearing what you might see if you opened them.

It was supposed to be a normal day, or at least as normal as it could be. You had been traveling with Clone Force 99 on a series of expeditions, with them acting as somewhat of your bodyguards while you conducted your research on different planets. 

They hadn't really been keen on the assignment at the start, deeming it "too boring to just go around looking at plants" and "not a job worthy of their skills" as you had heard them say. In all fairness, you weren't sold on the idea either, but your protests had fallen on deaf ears. The war had become too dangerous for you to venture out on your own, and nearly every other unit was too preoccupied fighting that war to assist you. 

As your research continued, however, you got used to them, even growing to like them. They were much different than any other clones you had worked with, each of them had enhanced abilities, and incredibly different personalities. Over time, you had begun to consider them your friends. 

Wrecker became willing to help you with the heavy lifting that your job entailed, bringing the larger samples you had to gather back to the ship. Hunter's astute senses started to come in handy when you were tasked to locate rare vegetation that no one seemed to be able to pinpoint the location of. Tech was always okay with having his brain picked whenever you had questions or needed someone to bounce ideas off of. And then there was Crosshair. His sharp eyes, always watching from a distance, never getting too close to you. His tongue was just as sharp as his eye, and the few times he did speak to you, it was never to exchange pleasantries or words of comfort. You were positive that if the others had considered you a friend, Crosshair most certainly did not. 

Your first impression of him left much to be desired, as much as you tried to befriend him.

You learned early on that it was best to let him do his own thing, although there was a part of you that was almost upset by that. You had heard him on more than one occasion joking with the others, and you had tried to use that as an opportunity to speak to him, figuring the other times he was just in a bad mood and now it had been lifted, but when you'd open your mouth, he would close back up. You wished that you could have gotten to know him as well as you had his brothers, but his boundaries were set and you did your best to respect them.

When your research brought you to Felucia, you were slightly apprehensive to go there. You had heard of recent skirmishes between the Republic forces and the Separatists, but decided you would be far enough away from any outposts to get in and out without issue. 

The ship landed about a klick away from the co-ordinates your supervisor had sent you, and when you exited the ship, the dense forest seemed empty. Feeling a false sense of security, you insisted on going to find the fungi you were sampling on your own. The others didn't see any problem with that, so they accepted the idea, but only if you remembered to comm them if there was danger. Their terms seemed reasonable enough, so you agreed and made your way into the forest.

You hadn't been gone long before there was unrest in the Marauder.

"Was it really a wise decision to let them go on their own?" Crosshair asked with his teeth grinding against a toothpick. 

"They'll be fine, there's hardly ever any conflict around here, and definitely not this deep in the forest." Hunter tried, unsuccessfully, to reassure him. 

"If you are so worried about their wellbeing, why did you not go with them?" Tech glanced over at him before looking back to the control panel he had begun fiddling with.

"Yeah, Cross, you like them or something?" Wrecker joined in with more of a teasing tone than his brothers had.

Crosshair simply scowled at all of them in reply before standing from his chair. 

"I'm going to take a look around."

No one said anything else while he made his way outside, but they each exchanged their own secret looks.

His eyes scanned the area, but found no trace of you aside from your footprints in the mud, and thankfully no sign of any danger. But just as he was about to walk to the other side of the ship, he heard the sound of distant blaster fire coming from the direction in which you had taken off. 

Without thinking, he started off into the forest, following your footprints as best as he could. Through the trees, he could see a tank crushing the trees in its path and a patrol of droids following it.

"Kriff." He muttered under his breath as he tried to find your trail again. 

You had gotten lost in your work, you didn't really know where you were relative to any occupied villages on the planet, and you didn't know how long it was taking you to retrieve the samples you were instructed to obtain. Until you had heard blaster fire, you weren't even aware there could be anyone this far out. It sounded far away, so you thought you could finish what you were doing before going back to the ship. The return fire sounded much closer, and this worried you. You sighed and reached for your blaster in case things went awry, but found the holster empty.

This seemed like the kind of danger the others would have expected you to comm about, and just as you were bringing your commlink up to speak, you saw a flash coming toward you, and that's when you felt something colliding with you.

It was dark.

Death? Is that what this was? 

No, your eyes were closed, that's why it was dark. Death wouldn't hurt this much. You were suddenly very aware of a pain radiating from your side into your chest.

But you couldn't find the will to open your eyes, when you did eventually try, your vision was blurry and you were forced to shut them again.

You felt a weight on top of you, halting your movement and shallowing your breath. The nearby conflict you heard, and now the ringing in your ears meant there must have been some kind of explosion. You tried to piece together what just happened, but with limited movement and blurred vision, that task was proving difficult. You must have been lucky enough to miss the explosion, but unlucky enough to be in the range of flying debris, and you couldn't bring your comm up to call for help.

You figured that if death didn't find you already, it soon would.

As you resigned yourself to your fate, you heard a muffled voice, it didn't sound like a battle, it just sounded like one almost desperate voice, you thought you heard it say your name but you couldn't be sure. 

The weight lifted from your chest and you heard the muted sounds of blaster fire before it was silent again. In the silence, you felt your head being lifted slowly from the ground, almost like you were being cradled.

"Please..." The voice returned, becoming more clear. "Wake up." 

Your eyebrows furrowed and a groan sounded from your throat. Slowly, your eyes opened, you had to blink a couple times before you could clearly see the figure holding you.

"Cross..hair?" 

He sighed in relief. "You're okay."

"Y-Yeah but.. what happened?" You tried to sit up on your own, but his hand was still firm on your back, stabilizing you. You felt the sharp pain in your side and your chest more furiously as you breathed in, and you winced in response. "I feel like I was hit by a railspeeder." 

"No, luckily just plastoid." He looked over you, trying to assess any injuries, but he almost looked guilty when he met your eye. "...Sorry." 

You looked at him with a confused expression.

"There was a clanker patrol in the area, must have been targeting a nearby village, but a tank fired this way. I tackled you out of the way, I guess doing so injured you."

You looked down at his chestplate, and pieced together that the impact you felt, as well as the weight on top of you, it had been him. 

"Can you stand?" He asked, standing up slowly and offering you a hand to help you up.

You took it but when you tried standing, the pain you felt in your side became worse, shooting in different directions across your torso and bringing tears to your eyes. 

He stopped trying to help you up and in a swift movement, he carefully scooped you off the ground. 

"We'll take a look at that when we get back to the ship." He said and started walking back.

It took a few moments to feel comfortable, both with your injuries and with his demeanour. He had never expressed interest in being near you, and now he was willingly carrying you back to the ship.

As if he could feel your stare, his eyes darted over to meet yours. "What is it?"

"Why are you being so nice to me?" You asked quietly, still looking at his face intently, like you were trying to draw out his usual annoyed expression.

"What do you mean?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I mean... you never even talk to me. And now you apparently saved my life."

He looked ahead with a stern expression. 

"We were hired as your bodyguards." He reminded you.

"I didn't even know you were there."

"I was wor- …I disagreed that it was safe for you to go out by yourself, and then I heard the blasters, so I came to find you." He paused, considering your earlier words and how he acted toward you prior to this.

In truth, he had seen how close you had gotten to Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech and he didn't feel you had a place for him. He tried to be content to watch from afar as he always had, it was what he was made for after all. Keeping his distance was his role in every mission they took, and he was certain this mission would be no different. But watching from afar, observing the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about your research, your smile that grew when you'd talk to his brothers, everything about your interactions with them planted a bitter, jealous seed inside of him. Knowing they could talk to you so freely, that they could draw those smiles from you, a smile that he wished he could see up close. And knowing that he could too, if he hadn't pushed you away anytime you tried to get near him. He was petulant in the way he craved your affection, while also refusing to get close to you, to let you in, but he'd never admit that to himself much less to you.

"As for not talking to you," He continued, "I'm just… not talkative."

"You're talking now." You countered, and you were met with a slight smirk. "I always assumed you just hated me or something."

He didn't answer for a long time after that. You were nearly at the Marauder when he finally spoke again.

"I never hated you. It just takes time for me to get used to people. I like you." His eyes widened just slightly enough that you notice. "I mean, I like having you around."

You could feel yourself blushing. You tried shifting to bring your face closer to his, but you were unable to without causing yourself more pain. He noticed your movement and stopped for a moment so you could readjust yourself in his arms.

"Crosshair, can you.. come closer for a second." 

He glanced down at you before obliging, bringing his head down so he was level with you. You slowly moved your head toward his and kissed his cheek. 

"Thank you… for saving me."

He snapped his head back and you smiled slightly when you saw the tips of his ears reddening. He didn't say anything, but he gave you an acknowledging nod.

When you finally returned to the ship, Crosshair laid you down gently on your bunk as your injuries were scanned and treated as best as they could be, unfortunately bacta patches wouldn't do much for broken ribs, but bedrest would.

Crosshair kept you company as much as he could while you healed. His visits were often silent, there were many times where he just stood and watched over you. It was awkward at first, but you started to understand that was how he'd feel he was keeping you safe. Although, sometimes he would attempt to get to know you, he's sit at the end of your bunk asking you questions about your research. A topic that would always send you into a verbal frenzy for which he wouldn't accept any apology. On occasion he would also allow you to ask him questions about himself, but there was never any consistency to how much or how little he would tell you. You knew he was trying to open up to you in his own way, and this led you to reconsider how you first felt about him. You wished you hadn't jumped to conclusions about him, but at the same time you were glad that he was willingly opening himself up to you rather than you breaking a boundary by mistake. You began to feel closer to him the more time you spent with him, and you slowly began to understand that he considered you a friend long before the events on Felucia, even though he never made it clear. 

Everything about him felt different now. His discerning eye always watching, somehow always being able to read you with ease regardless of what you did and didn't tell him. His sharp wit always countering your own. You learned that he was never one to exchange pleasantries or offer words of comfort, but you didn't hold it against him as you once had. Even after you had healed, he was more open to speaking with you, when you heard him joking with his brothers, he no longer closed himself off when you approached. Instead, he'd usually make a small joke at your expense. 

Your second impression of Crosshair was much better than the first, now that you understood him more than you thought you had early on.

While you hoped you wouldn't have to deal with a couple broken ribs and bedrest again any time soon, it wasn't the worst thing to happen to you. Although getting even closer to Crosshair without having to go through all of that again would be much more ideal.

[naisilla]

The Emperor's New Muse Part .1

Odyssey Kayn x Reader

content: female reader, non-con, forced blowjob, forced doggy style.

Thunderous marching reverberated through the ship's interior as the sling troopers advanced. In their grasp, you struggled, digging your heels in, violently thrashing. With gritted teeth, you lashed out at the two soldiers who gripped your upper arms like a vice.

Your voice snapped at your captors as you hissed out threats, graphic descriptions of what you promised to make of them ejected from your lips. They cut you off abruptly by throwing your body to the floor. More cusses came from you after your face collided with the hard floor when your eyes snapped to the pair of boots ahead of you.

Looking up your eyes met with a single cold blue stare as his left eye was concealed with a golden eye patch that branched across the sharp features of his face. Immediately you recognize who this imposing man is. The blue hair cut into an edgy mohawk and the golden robotic arm that always gripped that mysterious glowing scythe. The Supreme Ordinal Kayn.

Any shock that you expressed vanished as your lip curled in a snarl, but before a creative insult could come out, the ordinal's boot came down onto your head, pressing it firmly as a warning. The troopers are watching this snicker. "That rebel has quite the silver tongue," one of them comments, making you growl in response, the chucking escalates.

The pressured weight on your head shifts as the ordinal kneels before you, grabbing your face and roughly turning it to look at him. A deep ''hmm" vibrates in his throat as he inspects you closely. His single blue-eye flicks up addressing his sling troopers. "A Rebel you say?"

One of the troopers pipe up "This one was caught trying to tamper with our fleet ships at the last dock."

"Yeh, little shit crawled into the system and sliced up the engine room," says another one. Kayn looks at you with a raised brow.

"You're a mechanic? You understand the elite design of our locus armada fleet ships?" You scoff and roll your eyes.

"I don't, I was just blasting everything until it turned off" Kayn's face scrunched in annoyance.

"I see" he drops your head and straightens himself to his feet, walking past the troopers. "Lock her up, I can't be bothered wasting my time on petty nuisances" He turns his back to you and continues walking off indifferently to your presence.

A hot flush boils within you, and your teeth and wrists clench simultaneously. How dare you be written off as a pest by this bastard! You were his sworn enemy, THE enemy of the Demaxian empire. They may not know who you are but you know them. They had taken your home planet from your people and had drained it of all its ora leaving a lifeless uninhabitable system behind in their greedy pursuit.

You remember the day when the serene sky darkened with the looming shadows of a fleet. When the Demaxians landed an instant struggle ensued as the village you lived in was raided and ravaged by troops. Anyone who resisted was executed immediately and those who remained were either left behind on the dying planet or taken in by force. You never saw your family again, which filled you with bitter hatred towards King Jarvan IV and his empire.

In retaliation, you dedicated your life to vengeance. You had joined a growing rebel group becoming a menace to the empire. You would sneak into capital cities to graffiti the suburbs and protest loudly in the streets. Unfortunately, it seemed that the people of the capitol didn't care much for the opinion of a lower-class citizen. They didn't have to suffer having their planet overthrown by the empire, they lived comfortably in their wealthy establishments and benefitted from having their cities powered by the ora they drained from your land.

You had all this rage, a desire to be known to the empire for that hatred. You wished to tear down Demaxia from its golden pedestal of ora, to drag it and all of its selfish people into hell. To be caught then mindlessly thrown into the prisons like some petty fellon? How demeaning.

As you were being taken away by the guards, you let out a sharp scream and managed to break free. You quickly rushed towards Kayn, moving swiftly and lightly on the balls of your feet, pumping your legs, and launching yourself upwards to attack him. However, even with Kayn's back turned towards you, He swiftly swished his coat and maneuvered himself out of your range.

He swiftly spins his scythe, the blunt handle of it knocking your airborne body off and slamming you into the ground with a painful crack. Your entire body aches as you cough, the wind completely knocked out of you. You spit blood from your mouth as you scramble to collect your composure. You glance around and see the other troopers holding back their laughter.

You lunge towards the demaxian again, the soldiers attempting to restrain you before Kayn. Although Kayn refused to acknowledge you he was impressed by your display of determination. The ordinal scowled while gripping his scythe tightly as if struggling to contain his frustration. "You may be skilled, but that doesn't excuse your lack of respe-" You cut off Kayn with a swift kick to his gut, he hunches over briefly before lashing out a flurry of swings from his scythe each slash you manage to dodge and counter, edging closer to him between each of his misses until you edge close enough to launch another hit hooking into his jaw.

Kayn's demeanor becomes more agitated as he realizes he's been outclassed in the battle. However, you watch as the Demaxian's eyes light up with interest as he smiles slyly and laughs. "You have guts, it's rare for someone of your status to fight back like that." He steps back cracking his neck with his scythe now lowered to his side. "Tell you what, if you can beat me in this duel I'll let you go. Then you'll be free to live this encounter and go back to being a menace to our glorious empire. If you lose however.... let's just say your sentence will be much more severe."

The ordinal inhales deeply and resumes a broad stance standing confidently before you beconing you with his hand in a taunt. "You will not be granted freedom unless you prove yourself worthy of it. So fight me."

The troopers cheer on encouraging the ordinal to put you in your place, but to their surprise you don't back down from the fight. You manage to hold your own against the demaxian, the troopers' eyes widening as you throw punch after punch.

The fight is fast and brutal. Both of you trade blow after blow as your bodies move effortlessly, dancing and flowing together with incredible agility. You dodge and duck beneath his swings while you deliver your own quick attacks in return. The soldiers spectating are captivated by the sight of the fight, some even cheering you both on as the two of you push each other further and further.

You may have been unarmed but Kayn was still unable to land a hit good enough to take you down, merely cutting you lightly while you miraculously used your body as your weapon. Your swift movements are a blur to the soldiers, who barely manage to track the two of you.

You land a series of solid punches to Kayn's body before he retaliates and delivers a kick to your side, pushing you back. You're able to move out of the way of his scythe as it flies past your head, the demaxian's face remains unfazed even though you landed some powerful hits on him.

"A lower class nobody shouldn't have such power" The Ordinal seethes through clenched teeth, his face twists in rage as he realizes you have successfully fought him to a stalemate. You can see the furious fire in his eyes as he stares at you menacingly.

"A rebel...someone like you, you have no right to be this good," the demaxian snarls, "what a shame, you could have been a fine soldier if you had been born into the proper blood," the demaxian chuckles.

Your own face creases with fury. "I take pride in not being of such filthy heritage"

The demaxian laughs loudly and gives you a look of disdain. "Oh? And just what are you prideful of? A species that could never create something so glorious as the Locus Armada? A race that could never harness an element that grants such limitless possibilities?"

He gives you a mocking salute as he speaks, "I can understand why you became a rebel. It must be exhausting being inadequate."

Fed up with his obnoxiousness, you interrupt his insults, swinging your leg behind Kayn's knees in a sweeping motion, causing his legs to buckle. As he stumbles, you aim a well-delivered strike to his groin, forcing him to recoil with a grunt. You top off the combo by bringing your elbow down onto his shoulder.

A satisfied smirk beams down onto the ordinal who was still recovering below you. "Your "glorious" bloodline is full of fat selfish pigs. All you do is swarm and colonize your military is rightly named the locus armada because that perfectly describes your kind as the pest you all are".

Suddenly your nerves are set on fire and your body twitches and spasms erratically as a powerful current of electricity jolt through your body. You drop to the floor feeling all of your strength instantly drained and your blurry vision spots the guards had stepped in with one of them holding a tazer.

Kayn grabs your dazed body and presses you against his chest, he stares into your eyes intently with a powerful gaze, his blue-eye boring right through your spirit. Your hearing is muffled as the insides of your ears ring but you can make out the ordinal's voice commanding his guards to be dismissed before blacking out.

Your eyes snap open as the past events rush back, instinctively you try to get up but are immediately halted finding your hands bound in cuffs. Glaring at them your first move is to try crushing your wrists free through the hole, too tight. Grunting you attempt to bash them against the wall before Kayns mocking voice rings "ah ah ah I wouldn't do that if I were you" He walks over towards you tapping the cuffs with a cunning smirk "Military cuffs, GPS, vital tracking and a shocking protocol" You grumble and glare up at the Ordinal before looking at your surroundings. You expected crumbly, rusted floors, sterile flickering lights and heavy-duty bars. But instead, you found yourself in a luxurious suite. A massive bed made with silky fabrics set in a spacious room of black gold and blue... Demaxian colours.

You squint your eyes and look up at the Ordinal guardedly. "Why did you bring me here? You get lost in your oversized cruise ship?" Kayn remains silent glaring down at you. You looked so pathetic on your knees before him and yet you stared back defiantly, the distain you had for him coming out like potent venom.

The ordinal doesn't respond to your provocation, instead he continues to stare at you with an amused look. The opulent room around you is a contrast to the harsh life you have lived on the streets. The silken furniture, the lavish bed, the spacious room would make any homeless individual feel uncomfortable in its presence.

There is a strange silence between the two of you as you remain on your knees, staring intensely at the demaxian with a hostile glare. His eyes bore into yours for what feels like ages before he finally speak.

"I wouldn't speak so proudly if I were you," the ordinal hisses, "you are a traitor to this empire, a lowborn pest. I could have your head for a pillow, yet you dare to act with such attitude before me?"

The room is silent as the two of you lock eyes, your resentment towards him clear as day. "So what now? Are you going to just kill me?" you ask, your voice full of contempt. The ordinal only shakes his head leaning over you so you have to crane your neck to remain eye contact. "No Im going to remind you exactly where you stand in this chain of command" Kayns says as one of his arms pulls up the fabric of his uniform that drapes over his pants chuckling. "You were naive to think I'd actually set you free from my grasp after all the little stunts you pulled" he clicks his tongue and shakes his head dismissively "no no no imprisonment or death is too good for you, I plan on breaking you another way."

Your eyes narrow as his hand goes to unzip the fly of his pants as he watches your reaction with an amused smirk. "I'm going to teach you to respect this empire" his other arm, the golden robotic one, grabs the back of your head gripping at your hair controlling it to become level with his hips as he looks at you expectantly.

You resist his hold as you jerk your head trying to break free of his grasp when another electric shock reverberates through you eminating from your wrists. A single glare from kayn reminds you that this shock was merely a warning for any more defiance. The ordinals cock now prods your lips promptly.

With a growl you releuctantly submit and begin to tentatively part your lips open, yet Kayn impatiently thrusts his long cock in, instantly hitting the back of your throat. You retch and pull back on instinct but the grip on your hair becomes more severe and you are force to take in more as kayns grip pulls you until your face is flush against his groin his neatly trimmed blue hair brushing your nose.

You can feel the Ordinals cock curve to penetrate your throat cutting off your air, you try to scream intent on cussing him out but the garbled noise that emits from you only makes Kayn throw his head back and moan. His hips begin to thrust each time his cock is crushed down your throat, tears prick your eyes as you helplessly choke.

You can feel your face burn red from the humiliation and lack of air, your head was caving in on itself with pressure, your pulse began to thrum. Panic was sinking in and you felt like you needed to retaliate so you bit down.

Instantly Kayn pulls himself out of your throat and you gasp for air barely getting a sputter before an iron grip is on your throat continuing to suffocate you. "Insolent brat! You'll pay for that!" Suddenly Kayn grabs you and throws you onto the bed, you bounce on the mattress and try to scramble but the Ordinal was fast to pin you down from under him. He grabs your cuffed wrists and pulls them behind your head forcing you into an inconvenient position with his other hand he takes his scythe and uses it to slice off your clothes now leaving you bare beneath him.

You could feel Kayns evil grin behind you as he positioned himself at your entrance, your hands and knees trembled and you mindlessly began to beg for him to stop between little sobs. Kayn leaned forward pressing his broad chest against your back and his laughter vibrated through you. "Not so high and mighty now are you little brat?" his tone was sickeningly sweet and condescending, his warm breath ticking your ear. Finally he pushes in his long length reaching deep within you. Kayn shudders at how you tightly clenched at him, the raw sensation driving him to thrust fast slamming his hips into yours.

Swallowing your sobs you grit your teeth and scrunch your eyes tight bowing your head, you refused to beg, begging for mercy would get you nowhere. Demaxians never took pity, the Ordinal was just as cruel and greedy as the troops that invaded your planet. So you would not cry, you would not submit and you would stay strong through all of this.

Part 2 out now

[goodmorgan]

Perfect Strangers

Chapter 5: A Hand to Hold

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x f!Reader

Series Summary: When a stranger appears at your homestead to steal from you, you set out to help him instead. What follows is a reckless relationship with potentially dangerous outcomes.

Previous Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4)

Chapter Summary: Arthur returns earlier than expected to put you at ease.

Word Count: 4.8K

Tags: 18+. MDNI. NSFW. Smut, Porn With Plot, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Masturbation, Vaginal Fingering, Mentions of Guns, Knives and Drinking, Playful Banter, Scared Reader, Protective Arthur Morgan, Lots of Fluff and Comfort

Taglist: @how-the-heck-would-i-know

AO3 Link

The nighttime was never frightening before you met Arthur Morgan, probably because it never differed from the day. You were just as lonesome regardless of where the sun was, used to the tranquil solitude of your own company, your own heartbeat your only companion. But at least you were used to it, an easy living without any surprises made for a peaceful reality. You could always rely on the kindness of predictability.

But then Arthur walked into your yard and into your life. He left your house a few hours ago and suddenly the night is terrifying. Not just because last night's home invasion left your sense of security shattered, but because a night without him is now unbearably bleak. Being alone now feels strange, wrong even.

Arthur left late in the afternoon after getting some much-needed sleep by your side. You woke him gently with a kiss on his lips, his eyes widened in amazement before he realized where he was, deepening the kiss when he was aware of who you were. You said goodbye with a long-held embrace before he rode out of view from the yard where you met. His words lingered behind: "I'll come check on you soon."

The barrel of your shotgun now rests against the headboard of your bed, easy within reach, readied for the worst. You suspect it'll be there for the foreseeable future, at least until you go to bed one day and you don't feel fear anymore. You huddle the quilt close to your chest, waiting for sleep to come. It miraculously arrives when the sun is rising and you realize you've survived a night by yourself. The only thing keeping you sane is the pretend comfort of his arms.

The day goes by quickly since you wake up around noon and you spend the day idling, without the will to do much of anything. You're getting scared of the night again as you stand on your porch, the orange in the sky hastily slipping away from your grasp.

When you hear the sound of a horse on the road you surprisingly don't feel fear nor do you reach for the gun by your side. You know in your bones it's him, galloping gently so as not to startle you. When your eyes meet, you finally find the safety you so desperately need.

You both stare at each other until his horse finally slows.

"Hey." You feel yourself smile a little, a strange feeling on such an odd day.

"Hey." The brim of Arthur's hat tilts downwards.

"You're back early." You didn't expect him today, or the next few days for that matter. He said he had work waiting for him.

"Thought I'd come see you. See how you've been."

"I'm fine. No forced entries today."

He looks at you somberly, trying to figure out what lies behind your jest. "I'll take Titus to the stable. Be right back."

"You're staying the night?"

He brings his horse to a trot as he moves to head out back. "Yeah."

His answer is enough to make you sigh of relief. You're gonna survive another night after all.

You're still in the same place when he comes back, leaning on your porch rail as you watch him, his feet heavy on the wooden floor, making yours tremble as he comes closer. He places one of his hands next to yours as he assumes the same position you're in and you both look out yonder as you welcome back the night.

The last glow of the afternoon sun makes his eyes glimmer as he looks at the horizon. "You had any trouble?"

"No. Quiet as usual." It would've been an ordinary day if you hadn't been plagued with restlessness and insecurity.

"Good." He exhales. "That's good." He turns to look at you over his shoulder. "You eat today?"

It takes you a while for you to think about his question and you realize you honestly don't know. You don't feel any hunger at least.

Your lack of answer prompts Arthur to take your hand in his, forcing you to face him. "Come on. Let's get you something."

He squeezes your hand as he motions to lead you inside but instead, you tug him back and he stops in his tracks, looking down at you with vivid concern. You don't waste time until you throw your arms around him. He doesn't miss a beat until he does the same, finally giving you the hug you so desperately needed.

"Thank you for coming," you tell him as you take a deep breath, smelling the tobacco on his shirt.

"Of course." He places a small peck on your earlobe as he gently caresses your shoulders. You sink aimlessly into him and he lets you for quite some time.

You don't know how long you've been embracing him until he nudges you lightly. "Let's get inside, darling. It's getting cold." You raise your head to see it's now completely dark outside. You don't protest as you feel him parting from you, returning his hand to yours as he leads you inside.

It's embarrassing that you haven't even bothered to light a fire today, so Arthur heads to your hearth to start one while you fix up something for dinner. You still have plenty of bean cans Arthur got you, so you make the best of it as you heat them up in the fire. The bean stew is not much of a meal but neither of you expresses disappointment. You offer him some biscuits for consolation as he tells you about the escaped convict caught nearby, the cause of all the trouble two nights ago. It seems he tried to murder two farmers east of Emerald Ranch before robbing a wagon on his way to Valentine.

"I reckon they should hang him for what he did rather than send him to Sisika. He'll just try to escape again. No point in sending him east." He takes a few bites of a biscuit and you can tell he's not a fan of something so sweet. Your apple pie was more to his liking.

"Well, the further away he is from here the better. Dead or alive." Half of a biscuit lies on your plate and you're trying to decide if you have the appetite to finish it. You don't.

"Yes. That's true." He sips some of the wine you had in one of your cupboards. All the whiskey you had for him was drunk by the soldiers when they ransacked your home. He's not drinking much today, but you make up for his restraint as you serve yourself another glass. You can tell he's noticing your attempts to drown your sorrow.

When the conversation halts, you busy yourself with cleaning the dishes as always. Arthur tries to help but there's not much to do today on account of your plain meal. He settles by the fire when he unoccupies himself until you join him on your sofa with a clumsy thud. You're not even down when he stretches his arm over the back of the davenport, inviting you into his embrace again. You succumb to the openness of his warmth as you feel him breathing under you, both of you staring at the flames as they dance lively for you.

He lowers his arm onto your shoulder, giving you a few brushes before he speaks. "What happened wasn't right. It's ok to be scared, you know?" You feel him swallow before he speaks his next words. "Happens to the best of us."

You turn your head over his chest so you can look up at him, wrapping your arms around his frame for stability. "You get scared too? A big man like you?"

"Sometimes." He begins to run his fingers through your hair, tucking it behind your ear. "When others are in danger, I worry about them." His thumb traces the ridge of your ear. "I worried about you," he admits. "I'm glad you're ok."

You hum in appreciation as you begin to trace your fingers over the exposed chest hairs of his open collar as they twinkle by the fire. "What happens now?"

He ponders his answer as if trying to decide whether to tell you the truth. "It fades. Slowly. Then it goes away."

"How long will that take?"

"As long as it needs to, I guess." You must look dismayed by his answer as he stumbles to be more encouraging, squeezing your shoulder assuringly. "You're strong. It would be worse if you weren't. You just gotta be tough a while longer. One day you'll wake up and it won't hurt no more. Not like it does now."

"It's funny. It doesn't hurt as much since you arrived."

He moves his hand to caress the back of your head. "Maybe it's the food in your belly."

"No. It's you. I'm sure." You pat his chest convincingly.

"Well, you need to take better care of yourself. At least when I'm not here."

Your heart leaps as he tells you he plans to come back to you. "And when you are?"

"Well, then, I'm here." He takes a convinced breath. "I've got ya."

You'd never imagined that three little words could set your heart aflutter and you wonder if he can feel it in your chest as you move up against him to reach his plump lips, kissing him deeply as you tug at his bottom lip. He supports your back with his hands as he leans into you, breathing you in as you move against him, tightening your grip on his neck.

It's not a lustful kiss, but it's not a restrained one either, as you try to walk the line between affection, gratitude, and discretion. You don't want it to come off as suggestive. A night of unbridled passion is the last thing on your mind after such a distressing few days.

You break off the kiss and you return your head to the side of his chest. You see the firewood flames burning in his eyes, still looking at you with unashamed intensity. Perhaps the kiss was provocative after all and he expects something in return for his comforting words.

You unlatch your hand from his neck before you trail it down his abdomen, gently brushing over his shirt. You lower your palm further until you grab his belt buckle suggestively.

He quickly answers your silent query. "I ain't come here for that, darling."

You exhale of relief as you turn away to look at the fire, returning your hand to aimlessly graze his warm inviting chest as he continues to console you. You stay like that long enough to see the embers start to die down, at which point both of you are feeling the tender nudge of sleep.

You barely exchange words as you prepare for bed. Arthur removes his gun belt and places it on a hook on your wall before placing a pistol on the nightstand closest to where he usually sleeps. You lean your shotgun against your headboard like you did the night before. He helps you remove your dress with a fast swoop before you crawl on the mattress in your chemise, watching him undress until he's down to his underpants.

Arthur heads to his side, folding the quilt back to slide in next to you. When he readjusts his pillow so it lies higher against the headboard, a glint of metal catches his eye. You watch as he removes the large knife you hid on that side of the bed in case you needed to protect yourself.

He grins at you once he realizes he has an opportunity to tease you, maybe bring a smile to your worried face. “This a present for me?” He places it on the nightstand, now humorously crowded with weapons. “I usually prefer flowers, missy.”

Your lips stretch in amusement. "The knife seemed more your style."

Arthur climbs on the bed and leans down towards you on a bent elbow. "Well, I'm afraid I can't accept it." He kisses your temple softly. "I was hoping for something less sharp." He pecks other parts of your face except for your lips.

"What?" Your tone is cheeky as you play along and catch up to his ploy. "Surely not my tongue, then."

He tries to contain a chuckle but fails as he grins like you, both reveling in the spontaneous joy of the moment as his lips meet the tip of your nose. "I was thinking of something warmer." They reach a crease above your smile. "Something softer."

When he raises his lips again, you tilt your mouth towards them without making contact. "Something closer?"

You feel his hot breath on your lips. "Something like that." He takes a deep look into your eyes as he tries to contain himself, caressing your cheek with an impatient thumb.

When he finally gives in, it's a lot gentler than you expect. You still see him close his eyes in pleasure as he gets his gift, taking your warm soft lips as if he’s never had them before. He kneads into them slowly and gently with such care it feels like you’re discovering tenderness for the first time.

You’re quick to get hungry for more, grabbing his shoulders to make him close in on you, his arms soon caging you beneath him. Your breasts rub lazily against his broad chest as his whole frame leans into you, now tingling with pure delight. He feels your lips begging for more, your tongue seeking hurried entrance into his mouth. When he allows it, you both mewl at the intensity it sends over you as it cascades into aimless shooting stars across your bodies.

When the kiss ends, overwhelmed with exhilaration, wide smiles return to your faces and you're quick to continue to joke. "I told you it was sharp. Should’ve kept the knife.”

Arthur laughs unabashedly, his chest vibrating against yours as you see the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen in a man. You’re thankful it lasts so long because you get to notice every little detail. The round reddish form of his cheeks visible through his beard. The old white scars well hidden on his stubbled chin. The soft wrinkles drawn around his mouth and glittering eyes. His damp lips stretched so wide they might split. The pearly white teeth so visible they might blind you. The joy on his face so infectious it fills every crevice in your soul.

When he stops laughing, his smile is reduced but still as riveting, even as his lids begin to close heavy from fatigue. He places a few pecks on your lips before he slides back next to you, one of his legs still tangled between yours. He motions to slide his arm under you and you take the chance to turn to face him, resting your head on his large bicep, running your hand up and down his bare chest. When you raise a thigh over his hip, he ventures to hold it in his grasp, tracing gentle circles on your skin with his thumb. Your breathing steadies and synchronizes as you begin to lull each other to sleep.

You’re almost dozing off when you realize you’re now totally at ease. You've completely forgotten the burden of dread you've been dragging around the past few days, soothed by impromptu playfulness and passion. Arthur has delicately unwound you like a mechanical doll in his calloused deft hands.

You're still awake enough to hear his remaining mumbling thoughts. “You’re really something, you know that?” You feel his grip tighten around your thigh while his other hand rests assuringly against the small of your back.

You hide your eager smile against his flank, pretending to be settling into a more comfortable position. Somehow you summon the energy to defy your weariness. “Something warmer?” you suggest brazenly.

You feel him hum against you, treading his hand around your thigh, soon reaching your buttock tenderly. "Something softer too.”

His answer is enough to make you lift your head, placing it as close to his neck as possible. You lean your whole body against him, trying to leave no inch untouched. "Something closer?"

He croons again and you feel his lips tussle your hair as he kisses the top of your head. The hand on your back pushes you further into him as he welcomes your weight onto him.

As he buries himself underneath you, it becomes clear why he came back so soon after seeing you just yesterday. He craves sleeping next to you just as much as you.

He finally whispers his last remark before you drift off to sleep, soothed by the comfort of your cocoon. “Something like that.”

—

Arthur's ridiculously handsome face is what you see before you're barely even conscious as you wake. His head is placed neatly on his pillow as his eyes remain closed, his nose looming over his other striking features. Your eyes widen at the sight of his immaculate profile, soaking up the perfect view as you try your best not to move, set on not disturbing what looks like benevolent peace.

You take shallow breaths as you notice one of your arms is limp over his chest while one of your legs is jammed beneath one of his knees. To move an inch would entail waking him from his merited sleep, so you resign yourself to the slightly awkward position your body is in. You have no choice but to drink him in.

You're studying the length of his caramel-colored lashes that rest on his cheek when you see his rosy plump lips move, his eyes still closed. "You gonna pretend to be sleeping for much longer?"

You wonder what part of your body you moved. You could swear you were perfectly still. "Just as long as you."

Neither of you moves as you wait to see who will budge first. You see a brief twitch of hesitation flash across his mouth but he insists on faking sleep until you give up. You're no less stubborn than him so you keep still, wondering how long it'll take him to yield to impatience.

You bask in the stillness of the early morning, staring serenely at the illuminated face of your lover and realizing how much tranquility he brings you. Just a single night spent in his arms and it feels like all your troubles have melted away, left outside the repose of your secluded bedroom. You feel a quiet smile reach your lips as you find yourself in the middle of another humorous romp with Arthur. For the moment it's all that concerns you in this troubled world.

You keep up the mutual sham for several minutes before his patience finally runs out. "That's it, missy. You're done for."

You squeal in surprise as he suddenly jumps up, tossing the bed linens back, kneeling on the mattress while sliding his arms underneath your back and knees, picking you up from the bed with such force it feels like you've fallen off. Instead, you find yourself lifted, folded in his strong arms like you're made of paper, holding onto his shoulders to steady yourself. He bounces you a few times as you shriek with both glee and confusion.

He settles you with a charming grin on his face. "You awake yet?"

"Arthur!" is all you say in between giggles, entranced as this man treats you like his own rag doll, tossed around recklessly in his iron grip.

You're so dumbstruck you don't reply to his question so he jolts you again more forcefully as you feel your body hover briefly in the air. "I'm gonna keep doing this until you answer me, girl."

"Yes! I'm awake, Arthur!” You clinch his shoulders for mercy. “Put me down!"

He stops bouncing you as you see him chuckle, calming you down in his arms as he keeps holding you, enjoying the sight of your bemused expression. “Well, good morning then.”

He leans down his lips to kiss your temple as you try to catch your hurried breath, slowly loosening your grip on his shoulders. He rewards you by lowering his lips against yours, giving you a fiery kiss spurred on by the adrenaline still running through both your veins. As the kiss deepens, you involuntary clasps his shoulders again as you feel his hands tighten around your skin, holding you higher and closer to him, carrying you to new dizzying heights. He keeps holding you in his embrace as you continue to float in a euphoric state of refuge and delight.

As Arthur's tongue swirls around yours, you suddenly feel titillated with a sensation you haven't felt in days. Electricity ripples through your whole body, reaching its peak just below your waist as you turn hungry for the kind of touch you know only he can give you.

The feeling becomes more pronounced once he motions to lower you to your knees on the bed, searching for a better angle to sink into you. He grabs your hips tightly as he drags them against his own, your center settling at the top of one of his thighs. You find yourself grinding into him, clasping his shoulders to anchor yourself while his hands aid the movement of your thrusts.

When you decide to speak, his tongue leaves your mouth while you continue to straddle his thigh, looking him in the eye to tell him what you want. "Make me feel good, Arthur."

He kisses the side of your mouth tenderly in response. "You sure?" He knows you were in no mood for this last night.

You intensify the motion of your hips and the clutch of your hands. "Yeah. I'm sure."

He doesn't waste time as he reaches for your neck, planting a slobbering kiss there, grabbing your ass to support the movements against his thigh. You're now aching with full-blown desire as you try to get some friction against his leg, slightly grunting in frustration when it's not enough.

He notices your growing eagerness. "It's alright, missy. Let me take care of you." His hands reach under your chemise and grab the inside of your drawers before you feel them sliding down. You stop moving and lift your knees as Arthur takes them off, then raise your arms as he removes your chemise, thanking you with a rowdy peck on your lips.

Arthur’s hands return to your hips and you feel his fingertips running to the underside of your buttocks and squeezing, making you hum with urgency and expectation. You feel yourself getting wetter by the second, the burning in your core becoming impossible to ignore as he reaches around to the apex of your thighs. You grip his shoulders even harder now, mewling into his mouth to make him do something more.

Then you feel one of his fingers reach your folds, separating them before he reaches where your wetness gathers, earning a muffled grunt from him. He slathers your slick around your lips and two of his fingers and you feel your knees begin to shake on top of the mattress from anticipation. His free arm reaches around your back to steady you while his mouth slides down to the side of your neck, letting your mouth gasp directly into his ear. You’re much louder than either of you expect once his fingers finally reach your clit, now rubbed with soft circles that threaten to make you collapse. His hand on your waist keeps you from moving too much while your back begins to arch around his arm, keeping you in his tight brace.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Let me hear you.”

"Faster," you tell him between pants as you start approaching the point of no return.

Arthur picks up the pace, earning louder noises from you as his thumb reaches your clit. He slides his other fingers down to stimulate your entrance, building your arousal to a state of uncontrolled bliss. You're about to tell him to move them inside when he speaks, moving his head to look into your eyes. "It's all right, angel. I've got ya."

As he repeats the three little words he recited last night, the ones that echoed so deeply into you, you finally feel one of his fingers reach inside you, his touch soon finding the spot that makes you glimpse paradise. The simultaneous occurrence makes you sob with unrestrained melodic grunts. "That's it, missy. Keep singing for me, beautiful."

As your mouth hangs open, you feel compelled to keep your eyes on him, even as your head begins to tilt backward, your back sweaty against his bulky arm as you abandon any restraint in his embrace. He slips in another of his fingers, joining in the effort to prod against your wall at a keen pace. Your head falls further as you close your eyes but you feel his hand reach the back of your head, keeping you from dropping into the mattress. "I've got ya, darling. Don't worry." You open your eyes again, wishing to see him as your climax approaches. "Let go for me, missy." You're not sure how his fingers are working you so fast and precisely, but you feel yourself getting closer and closer to what you both want. "Let me feel you, sweetheart." You grunt uncontrollably as you begin to reach the unavoidable. "Show me what you've got."

The snap of the coil inside you comes fast and hard. Your walls flutter around his fingers while your back swerves wildly against his arm, his muscles flexed to keep you steady. A guttural sound leaves your lungs as you taste the sweetness of release, soon turning into oversensitivity as Arthur keeps writhing pleasure from you. You feel your knees quiver against the bed but he's quick to lower his hand to your hip, keeping you balanced as you come down from your high. Despite the overwhelming sensation of your orgasm, you never break eye contact with Arthur. You stare into his blissful reassuring eyes as they tell you he's got you over and over again without saying a word, all the while wringing from you the most depraved feelings of pleasure.

You feel obliged to tell him how much he means to you, how much you're willing to repay him for all his successful efforts in comforting you. You speak between shaky breaths. "You know I've got you too, right?"

His lips form a timid smile as his eyes sparkle even more. "I know, missy." He gives you an affectionate peck on your forehead as he gently removes his fingers from your core, wiping them down on the side of his bloomers. He lowers his arm to hook it under your thighs, laying you softly against the mattress so you can rest from your overexertion. He towers over you as his hands begin to soothe your forearms, caressing you until you even your breathing.

In your state of pure joy, you keep staring at his face, the one you've been carefully examining since you woke up. It's the face of a man that has purposely sought to spend last night and this morning with you and, if yesterday's talk is any indication, he might be spending some other ones too.

You trace your gaze down to his large chest, his soft belly, the patch of hair peeking from his bloomers. The fabric of his underpants is stretched thin as it barely manages to retain his fully hard cock, itching to break free from its enclosure. You were so enraptured in your own pleasure, you've neglected to help Arthur with his own. You decide to make amends as you greedily reach both your hands to his waistband, tugging at it as you threaten to pull it down. "It's your turn now."

He extends out his hands to grab both your wrists, stopping you before he gets some assurance from you. "You ready to go again?" His eyes glimmer with lust and expectation, hungry for an affirmative reply. Your chest swells at the possibility of him giving you more. The thought of thrusting around the hardness in front of you makes you blush, feeling a budding arousal again as you nod.

You whine for him to give you permission to release him. He lets go of one of your wrists from his grip, opening his palm up so he can give you a hand to hold, which you eagerly do. His other grip pushes your hand as you slide the undergarment down, finally freeing him fully.

"You gonna come for me again, angel?"

Your nod is anything if not enthusiastic. He lowers himself so his hips can meet yours, his length now sinfully close to your entrance. His breath is hot over your mouth as he leads the hand he's holding between your bodies, letting it go as he directs your fingers to encircle his pulsing member.

"That's my good girl."

From that moment on, you were his and only his. Even if you didn't know it yet.

—

A/N: Idk why but this one was a pain in the ass to write. Sorry it took so long! I tried to get some fluff in before things get more complicated…

[loveerran]

Could you elaborate on the JS sealing practices?

Great question! Thank you :)

What I am referring to (in this post) is the breadth and depth of the sealing power as envisioned and implemented by Joseph Smith and practiced in the early church. The original post speaks to how our family is more than just direct line descent or blood relations.

I've previously noted that 9 of Joseph's first 12 plural sealings were to women already legally married. Today, we regularly seal deceased women to more than one man (and deceased men to more than one woman) if they were married to more than one individual in mortality. We understand it will all be sorted out later.

But more interesting to many of us is the notion that sealings were performed for things other than marriages and the sealing of direct-line ancestors to direct-line progeny. Consider this account from the diary of John M. Bernhisel relating a sealing between friends and cousins, aunts and nephews and so on:

"The following named deceased persons were sealed to me on Oct 26th 1843, by President Joseph Smith: Maria Bernhisel, sister; Brother Samuel's wife, Catherine Kremer; Mary Shatto, (Aunt); Madalena Lupferd, (distant relative); Catherine Bernhisel, Aunt; Hannah Bower, Aunt; Elizabeth Sheively, Aunt; Hannah Bower, cousin; Maria Lawrence, (intimate friend); Sarah Crosby, intimate friend, /died May 11 1839/; Mary Ann Bloom, cousin."

A Gospel Topics essay notes early sealing practices may have been intended to extend family ties "both vertically, from parent to child, and horizontally, from one family to another".

Of additional interest is how proxy ordinances for the deceased, including proxy baptisms, could be performed by someone of any gender, prior to Brigham Young clarifying the same gender requirement in 1845. We also note non-related individuals were sealed by adoption to Joseph Smith, Brigham Young and other church leaders, including men sealed to men as father/son adoptive pairs.

Some believe our current evolution in practice aligns itself more closely to God's will and the original practice was at fault or incomplete. However, I give Joseph's expansive vision a lot of room. And the truth is that non-family, non-lineal sealings were performed by Joseph and others. Will those sealings be honored in the eternities, or will they be null and void? I have a hard time believing the latter. And what of OP's case for "the spinster aunt who had no kids but made sure that three of the six kids her sister abandoned survived into adulthood"? Church doctrine is big on adoption already, and I can only imagine that relationships like found family and adoption continue in the eternities.

To me, the sealing vision feels more expansive than our current understanding and practice may be.

[sysboxes]

Whats exactly...wrong? with the labrys flag, idk if its,my tumblr acting weird or what but im getting a "nothing found" page when i look for why its bad, My sincerest apologies if i come off as rude at all

It's always ok to ask and learn, anon!

I actually made an infographic a month or so ago, and I explained there why I don't like it.

But that being said!

The symbols being used are the Labrys axe and the Black triangle. The reasonings on their own make sense, with the triangle being used on lesbians, and the axe being the choice weapons of the Amazons, when paired they very much lose their meaning.

The black triangle was used on Romani women far more. The community still experiences the effects of the holocaust to this day while also having wiped out entire subgroups. People still regularly deny the Rroma being targeted in the holocaust, which only perpetuates the effects of it longer.

The labrys was used as a facist symbol, with one of the more well-known examples of it being Ordine Nuovo, which was a right-wing neo-nazi movement in the 1960s. Its flag was red with a white circle and black labrys in the center. This flag predates the Labrys

With this historical context, me having had family in the holocaust, and the fact that it's heavily used by TERFs, we won't be doing requests with the flag, I hope this helps!

[lovelovelovelovelove987654321]

i absolutely loved the neighbor Simon thing you wrote and would love to see it continued, if you’re comfortable of course!

PS this is my first ask to anyone like ever so sorry if it’s weird or wrong

Thank you for my first ask! I'm honored to be your first ask as well!

Neighbors

Part 1 Part 2

Proofread by the lovely @crashtestbunny and @talooolaaloolla

Tw: female reader

A few minutes later, Ghost thought he must be in heaven. If he was dreaming before, then what was this? He didn't know how it happened. Maybe there was some exchange, a few pleasantries? He felt like his brain was utterly scrambled.

You were standing in his kitchen, if one could really even call it that. A stained sink, cracked countertops, and rotting cabinets, along with a gas stove/oven set that almost certainly violated local safety ordinances. Somehow, it seemed better and worse with you there. Better, because it seemed like everything would be infinitely better near you. Worse, because he wished he lived in a perfectly maintained mansion so you wouldn't mind visiting. Staying or a few minutes, a few hours, a few lifetimes.

"Need any help unpacking? Cleaning?"

Your sweet voice shook him from his reverie, brought him back to the situation at hand: You being angelic and him dumbly holding the container of cookies, staring.

"Ah-" He paused. If he said yes, would you think he was telling you he only wanted you as a hire-on maid? No, that was stupid. Neighbors were just friendly. Normal people were friendly. If he said yes, maybe you'd stick around. Maybe he could make you smile brighter. He didn't think he was very funny, but the lads did. Soap. You'd like Soap, he could tell. Maybe he could introduce you two? He didn't really have friends to tell you about. Not that you'd asked about them. Not that you would.

"That'd be nice." He finally responded tonelessly.

"Great! I have cleaning supplies in my flat, I can go get them-" You paused suddenly and Ghost panicked. Had you seen a gun? An assassin? Were you okay? Had he done something wrong?

"-Unless you have some?" You finished.

"...No." He immediately wanted to beat himself up. He was too abrupt, too rude. He should be soft for you, gentle.

And cleaning supplies! Bloody supplies. Of course he should have some. He hated when things were dirty. Wasnt his barrack always spotless? But he hadnt been planning to be here much. Although, now that you were here, maybe he would take a little bit more leave.

Cleaning supplies. He didnt want to inconvinience you, he should have his own. He could go buy some tonight, maybe? Or this afternoon. Or right now. Or-

"I'll go get mine, then. That works better, even. I have very specific taste in scrubbing utensils." You winked at him, then, playfully, and there was laughter hidden just below the surface of your voice.

He could die a happy man right then and there. The wink was so familiar. So happy. He didn't deserve this, it should be ripped away from him. Except- except. Except he had to go buy cleaning products that matched yours so that he could have backups if you ran out. Except he needed to know your favorite color so he would know what new pair of bedsheets to buy. Except he needed to know your favorite food so that he could cook for you, maybe. Except he needed to know your favorite flower so he could give you some.

"Alrigh'" Was his only response. You smiled at him one last time before leaving the room, walking towards the door. He wanted to scream, cry, beg you to please never leave him, never turn your back to him. But you were just leaving to have a reason to come back. You'd be back.

You had to be.

[misosick]

dirty little secret - you're the only one who needs to know | bang chan

pairing: bang chan x reader, ??? x reader

genre: uni!au, predebut/idol!au, manager!reader, slow burn

chapter warnings: crying,

word count: 1.2k-ish

author notes: wow... only took me 2 years to finish this. thank u all for the love and support for this, epilogue coming soon w/ the sappy shit every writer does xoxo

taglist: @idunnomanmynamewastaken​ @freyaniobe​ @jellyglly @stepout-09-15​ @moremilkforkags (send me an ask if you would like to be added!)

Chan sits there in shock. The last time you called him Chris to his face was when you were shouting at him to get out of your house. Sure, you had written it on the note to him, but he couldn’t help but feel his heart jump as he hears it. Tears fill his eyes as he listens to you recall how he treated you when you started at the company, and he readies himself for the biggest heartbreak of his life. Except, it never came. A wave of relief washes over him, and Chan breaks down.

He didn’t deserve you, yet here you are, telling him that you still had feelings for him. Your arms open for him to fall into, and he falls into your shoulder as sobs wrack through his body. Your hand threads through his hair, comforting him in a way you had done back in Australia. The two of you sit there for what seems like hours, as Chan continues to thank you and apologise.

His breathing steadies, and he sits back up as you hand him a few tissues. You laugh a little at his puffy eyes and red nose, but he’s never looked so handsome.

“Thank you, y/n, seriously, thank you.” Chan smiles, sniffling a little. He knows he’s in for the ride of his life, but he’ll go to the moon and back if it means he has you by his side.

You aren’t easy on him. At all. Before you and Chris, the couple, there’s you and him, manager and artist – and the first awards show was mere weeks away. As much as you’d like to, there’s just no time to rebuild your relationship when there were new dance breaks to rehearse, stage mixes to be sent to the various events and stylists to co-ordinate stage outfits with. It’s the worst time to even be thinking about your relationship with Chris.

But, it’s perhaps the best time for Felix and Jisung to walk into your office, carrying a gift basket containing iced coffee, snacks and a folded piece of paper nestled in the front. The other boys didn’t know yet, but Jisung and Felix figured it out almost immediately after your conversation with Chris. You seemed happier to see the boys every day, he started working on more love songs in his free time – something must have gone right, right? At least they were kind enough to act as the secret messenger while you tested the waters.

“Oh, Y/N~! Your not-so-secret admirer has sent you a gift~!” Jisung waltzes over to your desk, setting down the gift basket as Felix places an energy drink right next to it (a personal gift from him). You laugh as you open the energy drink, taking a sip and sighing happily.

“Did he now? I wonder who it might be?” You take another sip and you motion them to sit down. Skimming over the note quickly, you smile to yourself as you move the basket to another part of your desk so you can lean over and talk to the two men sitting in your office. It’d become a habit for them to stay and gossip whenever they came by to drop off care packages from your not-yet boyfriend.

“I have a meeting with Minhye tomorrow confirming where I’m getting transferred, you know, conflict of interest and all,” you roll your eyes at your own comment. In all honesty, you were surprised the company didn’t fire you or put Chris on hiatus when you told them about your budding relationship – or the history behind it. You must have proven yourself enough for them to want to keep you on in some capacity, and you were grateful.

“We’ll still get to come see you, right?” Felix sat up, eyes wide in anticipation.

“Of course! I’m pretty sure I’ll be moving to Itzy’s management team, so I’ll still be around. Chris will still need his messengers.” You wink at the pair, laughing as they cringe at the thought of him spending hours on these gifts, stressing over the contents of the note when they know you’d be happy with just a ‘make sure you take a break’.

“When do we get to stop sneaking around, huh? I don’t know how much longer I can keep this a secret!” Jisung leaned back into the couch. You and Chris were having way too much fun at his expense.

“I mean… we could do it now? Tell the boys? I guess they deserve to know why their leader’s been so into love songs recently.” Felix and Jisung’s faces light up, and suddenly the phones were out to round everyone up for an impromptu meeting. Chris had mentioned telling them a couple of weeks ago; you told him you weren’t ready, and that you’d let him know when you were. But, you’d have to tell them why you were being transferred eventually.

The nine of you were sat in a circle in the middle of a practice room. Chris holds your hand in his lap, playing with your rings. Jisung and Felix trying to hold back their giggles, everyone else is quietly muttering to themselves. You turn to Chris, giving him a quick nod before taking a deep breath.

“Okay, so, I have some news to share. I am no longer going to be managing you guys.” The room falls silent. Jeongin’s eyes start to glaze over, Changbin’s sitting there in shock, Hyunjin and Minho let out a gasp.

“What?! Why? Did you resign?! Are you moving home?!?” Seungmin asks every single question the group had, and you can’t help but laugh as his frantic search for answers.

“No, Seungmin, oh my god, everyone chill out. I will be transferring to another group, not confirmed yet, but I’ll still be in the building.” The room erupts into laughter at the joke, instantly desolving the previous tension.

“So, if you aren’t leaving the company, why are you leaving us?” Jeongin’s voice wobbled a little, and you feel terrible. You’d grown close to him, viewing him as a younger brother of sorts, you reach over and grab his hand, squeezing it before Changbin wraps an arm around him.

“I… how do I explain this… I promise you I’m not going anywhere. You’ll see me just as much, if not more, isn’t that right, Chris?” You turn to him, smiling widely as everyone slowly realises the underlying context of what you’ve just said.

The once quiet practice room erupts into a sea of cheers, as you and Chris are all but tackled to the ground. You swear you see Hyunjin sigh and pull some notes out of his pocket to hand to Minho, who is busy dancing around celebrating his win.

“Noona! You worried me! I was gonna cry! You should’ve said the good news first!” Jeongin’s arms are wrapped tightly around your shoulders while Chris is inundated with taps on the shoulder and congratulatory messages. You can’t help but smile in relief. Felix and Jisung look just as relieved, happy to know they won’t be responsible for keeping your relationship with their leader a secret anymore. A soft kiss to the back on your hand reminds you that Chris was still next to you, and that everything was going to work out eventually.