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#cannot handle it. in fact? i refuse to handle it
lovezbrownies · 11 hours
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Hello??? I just found your blog and omfg your writing is DELECTABLE 💖 I especially love Red ❤️‍🔥 you don’t have to but if you don’t mind could you share some more info about him? Like maybe some head cannons, please?? It’s up to you though!! Love your work!!!! Have a nice day/night, cheers!
Thank you!!! leajdsjhj, super glad you enjoyed Red, honestly I loved writing down his story :3 I'll probably add more to his character later on! keep in mind he isn't as twisted in this as he was in his intro post but i will write something like sometime in the future.
Yandere!Boss headcanons.
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Masterlist
Red Ludenhart x Reader
Warnings: Obsessive behaviour, murder, torture, suggestive at the very end, but cute overall :3
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
~Red is very romantic. You could go out for a coffee run and somehow come back to your apartment covered in roses, balloons, 15 different gifts, and a very horny Red. You really won’t see the end of it! He’s obsessed with you and he will let you and the entire world know. With Red’s income this man can easily rent out an entire restaurant just to have a nice private extravagant dinner with his loved one. Although he is a tad bit crazy if he finds out you’re uncomfortable with him doing that he would bend over backwards just to find out what your preferences are. Red wants you to love him as much as he loves you, so why would he ever try to make you uncomfortable? You make his life better so he’ll make yours perfect.
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
~Red is also quite affectionate, an arm always around you, his face nuzzled somewhere on your body, kissing at any spot of skin he can find. He especially loves it when you just randomly go on his lap. Red loves it when you’re on his lap, he loves to completely wrap himself around you, cocooning his little butterfly. If he, for some reason, can’t touch you, rest assured he will grab at your shirt instead, his love and need for affection knows no bounds, really! If Red ever catches you wearing jeans oh lord you’d have to physically pull him away from you because he will put his hands on the back pockets of your jeans. Or he would grab your hand and put it in his own back pockets, he just finds the whole act so cute!
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~Red refuses to go to work if you’re not there. An investor wants to speak to him? Tell them to wait. There’s a storage issue? He’ll deal with it when you two get there. This man would not work without you there even if the Queen told him to. People have come to learn his schedule is your schedule, if they see you’re not there they won’t bother trying to find him. Even when he is there, he will most definitely neglect a lot of his duties in favor of you, pulling you away for an impromptu makeout session, just staring at you like a lovesick puppy; fair warning he will get upset if anyone dares to interrupt his precious time with you.
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
~You should be careful if you do go out with him  however, because if Red catches anyone trying to make a move on you he goes absolutely ballistic. While he knows you’re smart enough not to cheat on him, others aren’t. Red cannot handle the fact that other people can perceive how attractive you are, and what’s worse is when they act on their feelings. Red has a tactic for these parasites. Act like it’s okay, get to know the freak, then pay good money to have them kidnapped and tortured for a very long time. He even pays extra for a recording of it! Of course Red has all these recordings well hidden from you and checks you’re nowhere nearby before watching them.
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
~Red values family. While he understands if you have a complicated relationship with your family he hopes you can still get along with his. Red’s family is incredibly important to him, some parts of his childhood weren’t the best due to his biological parents, he was thankfully adopted by his new dad, Grim Ludenhart, and given the best childhood possible. Red would let you choose when to meet all of his family, but meeting his biological younger sibling is something you will not be able to skip on. Red values Siolis’ opinion quite a bit– so if they end up not liking you it will hurt him. While it won’t deter him from pursuing a relationship with you, this drift between the two most important people of his life will cause him a great deal of pain. But thankfully Red’s father, Siolis, and the rest of the family did end up approving of your relationship, welcoming you in with open arms.
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
~Speaking of families, Red is amazing with children. But does it mean he wants any? No, not necessarily. If you do end up asking him for kids he will gladly provide two, preferably adopting. No more, no less. Red would be a phenomenal father, loving his kids equally and ensuring that anything they want they get. He will keep his job hidden from them up until they are teenagers, by then Red isn’t that worried of the influence his job might have on his kids. Red will buy a big enough house with a huge backyard right before you have kids. This man refuses to skimp out on them, just like his father.
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
~Oh boy how excited Red gets in the bedroom. This man is NOT vanilla at all, introducing all types of freaky shit into the bedroom, with your consent of course. Red adores the act. And not in a kinky way at all, he loves how close you two become when you do the deed, how intertwined you are, how you desperately grab at him, how you look just as you’re about to let go, how even after multiple rounds you somehow manage to turn him on once again, causing him to become rock solid before he can even pull out fully. Also want to mention Red definitely has some form of food or mouth kink. This man loves shotgun kisses, the way you cough it up causes his dick to dig straight into your back. He loves to do this with any substance really, if it went from his mouth to yours, or better yet your mouth to his expect a complete mess in his pants.
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
~Point is, this man is so loving. While also kind freaky :3.
Lil quick drawing I made of him :3
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27 notes · View notes
navree · 2 years
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hm.
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hm.
68 notes · View notes
2boldlyqueer · 1 year
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Ignore this if you don't care about my life but I'm gonna lose it on my fucking grandmother one of these days I swear to God. We live together because we're both disabled and can't survive alone but she's such a fucking asshole I'd rather take my chances on the goddamn fucking street sometimes
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msgexymunson · 1 year
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Rumour
Description: you share with Eddie, your older neighbour, the rumours you've heard about him. They might not be all fictitious...
Warnings: smutty smutty smut smut, lotta angst, tiny fluff. NSFW, Minors DNI I will whack you with a dinner plate, Eddie is mid 30s, tattoo artist, dom, reader uses sher/her pronouns, sub, fem! Oral receiving, praise kink, potential for Sir kink, a tiny bit of penis handling, p in v unprotected sex (wrap it folks) genital and tongue piercings.
A/N: well, this thought gripped to the inside of my thighs and refused to let go. I had to share it with you before I started humping my furniture. Have fun. Again I'm English so I try with the Americanisms, anything I got wrong soz babe. BTW ST 4pt2 never happened soz babycakes ❤ Reblogs are what keep me alive FR. They keep Tumblr alive (and my own heart beating)! If you want more smut reblog my stuff. I'll love you forever, promise.❤
Masterlist Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
5.2k words
Walking back to your ground floor apartment after your shift, your feet aching, you spot your neighbour sitting on a lawn chair in the courtyard smoking a cigarette. Your incredibly hot, older neighbour. Mr Munson.
The neighbour that sends shivers up your spine at the mere mention of him. The neighbour that you think about at night when you're in bed, all alone.
No doubt about it, he looked both hot and intimidating. Not that you would care to admit but that was entirely your type. Mid thirties, broad shouldered, and appeared to be as confident as a wolf, and about as self assured. He reminded you of one; gruff looking, proud, stalking around, making you feel like prey.
He looked particularly jaw dropping tonight in a black button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up; part of his muscular arms were on display, covered in countless tattoos. You've heard that he works in one of the tattoo shops down town. In fact you've heard a lot about him, but that was one rumour that you actually believed.
Elbows resting on his knees, his messy hair fell in waves just brushing his shoulders, full lips taking a drag on a rolled cigarette. Peeking out of his shirt collar, between the waves of hair, you can see a skull like tattoo on the side of his neck.
Is that new? Oh God, he's so hot. Okay just walk past, act normal.
You saunter past him with as much confidence as you could muster.
"Hey Mr Munson." You nod in his direction, trying to stop your voice quaking, fumbling for your keys.
"Hey sweet thing. You good?"
Jesus, does he really need to call me that?
The nickname travels to the pit of your stomach making you squirm hotly.
"Yeah sir, just a long shift at the bar. Idiots tonight, you know?"
Mr Munson shifts in his chair taking a sudden breath in.
"Shit sweetheart, sorry to hear that. Wanna talk about it?"
Well, it couldn't hurt, right?
You flop down in the chair bedside him, gesturing for a drag on his cigarette.
"Can I?"
He smiles wickedly and puts his roll up to your mouth. The roughness of his fingertips brushes on your lips making you clench, almost rucking your hips up, albeit briefly. You hope he doesn't notice. Of course he does.
Taking half a hit you realise that it's not a fucking cigarette, it's a blunt. It's not like you'd never tried anything like that but it was  certainly not what you were expecting. The heavy, sweet, herb feeling lays on your tongue. Eyes wide you breathe out, coughing slightly much to his amusement.
He holds it out at you so you can take a proper hit. Sucking at the blunt so you can take it all in, your lips brush against his calloused hands, adorned with rings.
Breathing out, you gaze at him. His smile splits his face wide open, thick tongue rolling to a point, licking across his upper lip in a teasing manner. You cannot help but focus on the tongue stud pierced right through the middle of the muscle, a long stainless steel bar penetrating his whole tongue. You had certainly never noticed it before. It's presence made you wet, sticking between your thighs at the sheer thought of what he could do with it.
"Something on your mind pretty girl?" A cocky side grin plastered across his handsome features.
Shit, I was totally staring.
Blushing, you look away and try to change the subject.
"You know, you should really warn a girl before she takes a hit of a blunt."
He laughs deep in his throat. "I thought you knew! So, why was today so terrible?"
"Just customers thinking that I'm nice to them because I want them, not because it's literally my fuckin' job. Couple dudes tried to hit on me, one of them grabbed my ass." You sigh into the night air.
"Shit, I hope you taught him a lesson."
"Of course, hit him on the head with my tray."
He laughs out loud at that, throwing his head back. You gawp at his neck, sexy stubble running down past his Adam's apple. Turning his head towards you, he flashes his teeth.
"Didn't know you had it in you. Good girl."
Holy shit.
Your whole lower body clenches at his words of praise as you take in a shaky breath. The apples of your cheeks are on fire. Mr Munson gives you a knowing look, eyes glittering darkly.
You stand up on slightly unsure legs.
"Okay I'm- I'm gonna have a shower. See you around Mr Munson."
You fumble for your keys. Turning to your door you hear a gravelly voice behind you.
"Eddie. Call me Eddie."
********************
A few nights later and your surrounded by the rough brick interior of the bar, busy wiping down sticky tables. There's only half an hour until closing; half an hour and you can go home and rest. It's pretty empty tonight, just three regulars dotted around in the semi dark, nursing their drinks.
You haven't been able to get your latest encounter with Mr Munson, sorry, Eddie, off your mind. You liked to think you were a strong independent woman. You were 22 after all; having had to live on your own since you were 18, life hadn't exactly been kind. You had to be strong to survive. So why exactly was it that a few moments with Eddie had turned you into a blushing, giggling school girl? He had disarmed you with a few words and a rough grin and now you couldn't stop thinking of him. All he had done was call you a good girl and you turned into one. A simpering mess.
Doing a final sweep for glasses, you make your way back behind the bar just as the door opens and a brisk breeze blows in.
Oh fuck its him.
You see his broad frame silhouetted in the doorway for a moment, leather jacket hanging open. His wild mane is in a low messy bun for once, tendrils of loose hair moving in the wind. He stalks over to you and you feel your breath hitch in your throat. Dark eyes finding yours, he leans against the bar on one elbow, towering over you.
Plastering your customer service mask across your face; social armour to hide the nerves, you smile at him.
"Well good evening sir, what can I get ya?"
He grins at you devilishly, biting his lip, like he wants to devour you whole.
"What did I tell you? Call me Eddie."
"Sorry Eddie."
"Good girl. I'll have a bourbon, please."
Only just realising your mouth is hanging open, you slam it shut, cheeks burning. He looks at you smugly, like he's just proven a theory. Your body goes on autopilot, grabbing a glass, adding ice, measuring bourbon.
When you hand his drink over he slides over a twenty dollar bill.
"Keep the change."
You blink at him. "I couldn't, it's too much-"
"Then have a drink on me. I just finished a piece and got paid today. I'm celebrating."
You wouldn't usually, but you're on your own and it's nearly closing. Fuck it.
You pour yourself a bourbon, adding a dash of soda water to yours and take a sip. Eddie beams at you.
"Well thank you." You smile back at him, losing yourself in those dark brown eyes of his, watching the way the skin crinkles at the corners when he grins.
He sticks the ball of his tongue piercing out, rolling it between his lips as he stares at you. It seems like a subconscious movement, you're not sure he's aware that he's doing it.
"Why do you have that?" You blurt out, word vomit pouring off your tongue.
"Have what, pretty girl?" You're staring at his mouth, and he understands, sticking his tongue out at you.
"Thith?" He lisps at you, still poking his tongue out. Giggling, you nod.
His hand drops to the bar, thumb reaching out, stroking back and forth over the knuckles on the back of your hand. An involuntary shiver creeps down your spine at the touch of his rough skin.
"Oh, sweet thing. I think you know exactly what it's for."
His eyes are deep pools, inviting you in. Your thighs clench at his words, biting your lip.
"Oh."
He smirks at you, humming. You pull your hand away, looking at the time.
"Er, just a sec."
You move away slightly and shout out last call. Two of the patrons leave; the other walks over to the bar, slight stagger to his step. Serving him a final Scotch, he pounds it back and walks outside.
It's just you and Eddie. All alone.
"I've got to, um, finish closing up."
"I'll give you a ride if you'll have another drink with me."
You open your mouth. Then close it.
He pouts at you, looking at you with big doe eyes. "Please?"
Well fuck.
"Okay, just let me finish up."
You collect the rest of the glasses, wipe down the last of the sides and sort the nights takings, getting it all in the small safe in the back room.
After locking the front door you return, hang your bar apron up and pour the drinks. Eddie gestures for you to join him on the bar stool next to his. You perch on it lightly; he reaches for his wallet but you wave it away.
"No, I've already done the takings, this ones on me. For the ride, you know."
He shrugs, returning the wallet to his back pocket.
"So" you say, taking a sip of your drink, "you said you finished a piece. You're a tattoo artist, right?"
"Yep, that's right."
"Thought so, I heard a rumour."
"Rumour, eh? What else you heard?" Eyes glittering, he took a mouthful of bourbon.
You giggle "Hmm, well, I heard you were some Satanic cult leader in high school-"
He waved that off, "oh that's so old. If playing D&D is satanic then I'm the devil himself." He sticks his tongue out again, creating little horns with his fingers on his forehead.
You laugh at that, starting to finally feel at ease in his company. The bourbon helped.
"Someone said you sacrificed a goat in the woods once."
He nearly spits his drink at that one. "Now that's more like it, even I've not heard that one. Got any more?"
You blush, realising you've only heard one more.
"I heard you had... other piercings." You mumble, not wanting to say it too loud despite the lack of company.
"What other piercings?" He eyes never leave yours as he finishes his drink.
You're sure it's not normal to have so much blood in your cheeks. You can hear the blood swooshing in your ears. Finishing your own drink for courage, you gaze down at your hands in your lap.
"I heard you have a pierced..."
"Dick?" He ducks his head, trying to catch your eye again, cheeky smile on his face.
"Yeah." Your whole body feels hot and small under his gaze.
He just smirks at you and shrugs.
Is that a no? A yes? Now I'm dying to know!
He winks at your obvious frustration and says "come on I'll take you home."
********************
The ride home in Eddie's Mustang is uneventful. A little small talk is shared, but mostly you're staring out the window, trying to catch glimpses of him when he wasn't looking, eyes wandering to his crotch.
Pretty soon he was dropping you off at your front door, hand leaning on the door frame, crowding into your personal space. Just breathing the same air as him felt suffocating in the best way.
"Well, goodnight then sweet thing." He winks at you, glancing at your lips. For a split second you think he's going to kiss you, but he breaks away and turns to leave.
"Do you wanna come in?" Shit did I just say that out loud?
"You sure?"
You nod and he throws you a wolfish grin. You've never felt so much like a lamb in your entire life. You may as well baa at this point.
You lead him into your tiny apartment, gesturing for him to take a seat on the couch, turning on a couple of dim lamps as you go. He flops down, manspreading, large hand resting on his knee.
"You want another drink? I've got bourbon but no ice I'm afraid."
"Sure thing sweets." He responds whilst slipping his jacket off, placing it on a nearby chair.
"You mind if I smoke? Just a cigarette, promise."
You smile at the reference, "sure, there's an ashtray just there."
He pulls out a pre rolled smoke, lighting it and taking a few drags.
When you've poured the drinks you make your way to the other side of the couch, placing the glasses on the coffee table. He offers his cigarette to you. As you nod, he shifts closer, holding it to your lips. You take a couple of drags, relishing the feel of his fingers on your mouth. Every time your skin touches his it sends a flutter through your nerves.
You watch him take a sip of his drink, seeing him press that perfect bottom lip to the glass. He drinks and puts the glass down. Not even looking your way, he says "something you wanna share, pretty girl?"
"Do you? Is it?" You say doltishly. Well done, real eloquent.
"You really wanna know, huh?"
"Yes!" You say loudly, bourbon well and truly in the drivers seat for that one.
He laughs and looks at you dead in the eye, another chance to make you squirm.
"Yes."
Gaping at him for a few seconds, your brain and mouth finally connect.
"Do you- did it hurt? What's it look like? What kinda-"
Stopping you mid babble with a wave of his hand, he simply asks, "you wanna see it?"
Brain short circuiting, you merely stare at him dumbfounded. You nod, curiosity well and truly getting the best of you.
He stands up and undoes his belt, sound echoing through the apartment. Your gaze is fixated on his large hands as they deftly unbutton his jeans. A glimpse of a tattoo teases you on his lower abdomen. His happy trail is peeking out, leading to the large thatch of hair that snakes down to his manhood. You swallow hard.
He slowly pulls his boxers down and you scoot closer to have a look. It emerges from the fabric, to your surprise half hard.
You gape at it. You've seen dicks before. A handful. And they are just that, a handful. This is more than a handful. You think you'd struggle to get your hand around his. The girth of it was truly intimidating. It certainly looked long too, and that was at half mast.
The end of it was pink and rounded, and the piercing went through the slit at the top, down to the underside of the tip. The piercing was thicker than you imagined, a curved bar with thick steel balls on either end. You never thought you would be into this sort of thing, but just looking at it made you think about what it felt like. What it tasted like. You wet your lips and continue to stare.
On instinct, your hand reaches out. You only notice when it meets the roughness of his jeans, touching ever so closely to his exposed member.
You look up at Eddie's face. He's looking right back at you sinfully.
"Did it hurt?"
"Not as much as you'd think. Ached like a bitch the first time I got a boner though."
You giggle, staring at it again.
"Can I touch it?" What the hell. It just slipped out, unbidden. You see his dick twitch at the thought.
Eddie chuckles darkly. "Did you seriously just ask if you-"
"Sorry that was dumb of me-"
"Sure you can sweet thing."
Before your mind can even comprehend what's happening, your hand shoots forward with sudden bravery, reaching out to hold it. You inspect the tip, looking at the piercing, feeling his hardness grow under your delicate touch. Inquisitively you rub the jewellery with your thumb, inadvertently smoothing the pad of your thumb over his tip in the process. Eddie hisses through his teeth.
"I'm sorry, did that hurt?"
"No," Eddie manages through gritted teeth, "just felt really fuckin' good."
Oh.
You back off, moving your hands from his piercing and placing them in your lap. He tucks himself away again, doing up his jeans, subconsciously palming his length.
"Well? What do you think?" He sits on the couch next to you, denim clad knee touching yours.
"It's really big Eddie."
He laughs, throwing his arm over the back of the sofa.
"You talkin' about the piercing or my dick?"
"Both." You couldn't help it. It had to be said. It was true. You knock your drink back, feeling entirely too sober for this conversation.
Eddie's mouth splits into a lazy smug smile. Finishing his own drink, he turns to you, eyes roaming over your body.
"So, do I get a turn now sweet thing?"
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "At what?"
Well, you got to touch me. Can I touch you?"
Your eyes widen at his brazen attitude, but you'd be lying if you said this wasn't the reason you had invited him in in the first place. The very air around you feels heavy, hot with anticipation.
"Ok."
You stand up shakily, mirroring his movements from earlier, unsure hands unbuttoning your jeans. Eddie's eyes travel down to your core, predatory gaze shamelessly wandering over you. Your jeans are a little big, slipping straight to your ankles when they're undone. You kick them off and away. Standing there in your tank top and tiny white panties you've never felt so exposed in your life.
Eddie stands up for a second looking down at you, eyes shining with mischief. He winks, and drops to his knees between the couch and the coffee table, grabbing your hips and pulling you to face him.
Sizeable hands hovering over the hem of your underwear, he looks up at you. "Can I? Can I take these off?"
You nod, cheeks flaring with heat.
Eddie licks his lips, eyes never leaving your cunt. "I'm gonna need you to say it, sweet thing."
"Y-yes Eddie." You manage to stumble out.
"Atta girl."
He peels them off. They stick for a moment between your thighs, slick and heat pouring from your core. The tops of your thighs are already damp with expectancy. Your muscles clench, pressing together with angst. Eddie pries your thighs apart slightly, thumbs massaging calming circles into the flesh.
Eddie presses a kiss to your mound, stubble scratching the delicate skin ever so slightly.
"Eddie what are you doing?"
"You said I can touch you."
"Yeah, so why-"
Eddie's tongue pushes between your folds firmly, tongue bar flicking right over your clit.
The noise you make is nearly inhuman, breath knocked out of your lungs in shock. Your legs buckle at the knees, ass falling to the carpet. He takes the opportunity to wedge his head between your legs, your thighs pushed as wide as far as the narrow space allowed, stuck between the sofa and the table.
His stubble is burning the insides of your thighs, roughly rubbing against your soft skin. Eddie licks into you, pushing his tongue inside your hole. You feel the warm wetness of his thick tongue and the foreign bump of hard steel forcing shockwaves of pleasure into you. The moan he rips from you reverberates in your chest, full of want.
Eddie groans into you, tongue making it's way to your clit, running in dizzying circles. The feeling is almost too much as you buck up into him, writhing your back on the carpet.
"Oh my God, Eddie!"
You can practically feel him smirking against your dripping pussy, getting his large hands underneath your ass so he can push his face into you even further. His tongue is everywhere, eating you out messily, hungry for you. The occasional rub of steel sends your senses into overload, hips rutting shamelessly into his face.
He moves one hand from underneath you and pushes two fingers deep onto your cunt. You're on the verge of screaming, tears gathering in your eyes, overwhelmed with pleasure. The pressure of your desire collects in the pit of your stomach.
His fingers make you feel so full, reaching somewhere you've never been able to touch on your own. The rough sure movements of his hand so close to sending you over the edge, pussy grateful to have something to clench around.
"Eddie! Holy fuck." You cry out, an unsolicited tear spilling from your eye.
Eddie's mouth unlatches from your heat briefly.
"You gonna come, pretty girl? Come on, soak my face, that's my girl." And he's diving straight back in, tongue movements unmatched, strong fingers fucking into you. Desperate, filthy noises pour from your throat at the sudden onslaught.
Tensing up, you feel the unimaginable tight hot ball of desire suddenly drop. The feeling ignites through you like wildfire, coalescing into a burning, broken scream of his name.
Once you've chased your release as far as it could possibly take you, your back finally touches the floor again. Eddie moves away from you, sitting up, gazing at your fucked out form. Panting, flushing, sweating, you manage to look at him.
Eddie looks wild, feral, hair a mess, face covered and dripping with your slick. You can even see a wet shiny patch on his forehead. You giggle, dopey in your post orgasm haze.
"What? Have I got something on my face?" Eddie stares at you unblinking. You laugh loudly at that, pointing to where it was on his forehead. He laughs back and pulls his t shirt off, wiping his sticky face all over it before tossing it onto the sofa.
Your eyes go wide at the sight of him shirtless. Taunt, muscular frame, dark patch of hair covering his chest, matching the rough hair of his happy trail. He is littered with tattoos, some dark and bold, others lighter and faded. There's small patches of alabaster skin here and there. He's glistening, clearly having worked up a slight sweat just from the force of which he'd eaten you out. Muscles shining, catching the dim light.
He catches your lust filled stare and leans over you, caging your head with his strong arms.
"So, you wanna know why I've got the other piercing?" Sinful smirk turning his mouth up at the corners.
You crash your lips into his, throwing your arms around his neck. Desperate hands snake into his hair as you open your mouth to deepen the kiss. Eddie's kisses are messy but skilful, one hand moulding to the back of your head, pushing you towards him almost painfully. The need for each other is tangible, bodies colliding, rolling into one another. He sits up, pulling you along with him by the waist, tongue continuously dipping into your mouth. Finally, you break from the kiss just to breathe. It's like all the air has been sucked from the room and all you can breathe is Eddie.
He's kissing along your jaw line, down your neck; yearning, robust kisses. Heaving breaths are coming from each of you.
"Bedroom?' Eddie manages between heavy panting and pecks.
You gesture to the hall and he wastes no time in standing up, pulling you along with him, eliciting a surprised squeal from you. You wrap your legs around his waist, firm hands holding you steady, as he attempts to navigate your hallway whilst still kissing you.
Nearly tripping on your discarded jeans, he slams your back into the wall. You couldn't care less, tongue invading his mouth, pressing your naked heat against his solid bulge. His groans are so low they're almost growls, bearish and dominant. He takes the opportunity to press your form against the wall so he can pull your tank top over your head, eyes rolling back at your braless chest.
Finally, he carries you through your bedroom door, dropping you onto the bed. Unbuckling his belt and exposing himself to you for the second time today, this time he's taking his clothes off completely, standing in front of you naked in all his glory. Further tattoos cover his hairy legs, you see his thick thighs flexing. He gives you a ravening look; predacious in its delivery, with a smile that belies the lust in his eyes.
Quivering before him, he roughly widens your legs and slots his hips in between. You feel the hard shaft of his dick pressing against your slick folds, whimpering at the contact.
Hovering over you, one of his hands engulfs the side of your face, stroking down to your chin, holding you there. You stare at him open mouthed, consumed by the feeling of him rubbing up and down your wet pussy.
"You sure you want this, sweet thing?"
"Yes, Eddie please." Your voice doesn't sound like you, its smaller, meek. Your eyes plead with him.
Leaning in to you further, his hot breath whispers, deep voice on the shell of your ear. "Are you sure you can take it? Can you be a good girl for me?"
You moan loudly at him, small hands clasping at his biceps in desperation.
"Yes, please Eddie, I'll be so good for you!" You writhe underneath him.
He chuckles, biting his lip. "I knew you were into that. You got a condom?"
"No I'm on the pill, I need you, please."
"Holy shit." Eddie wastes no more time, rubbing his cock up against your entrance, strange feeling of the piercing hard against your slippery cunt.
He starts to push into you and your mouth falls open, no sound coming out. You grip his shoulders hard, trying so hard to take him. The stretch is intense. He's looking at you with concern, softer than he's ever looked at you.
"You gotta relax, my good girl, or its gonna hurt."
You nod, pupils blown, trying so hard not to clench around him. He bottoms out, the final push making you whimper.
Stroking your face, he gives you a moment to adjust.
"So fuckin' beautiful like this."
Your cheeks burn at the praise, lips enveloping his in a soft kiss.
He moves, pulling out almost all the way before pushing back in. Your eyes roll back at the feeling, a loud whine escaping from your lips. The burning feeling has been replaced with pure ecstasy. You're sure you can feel the steel of the piercing hitting that spot inside you.
Thrusting into you slowly a couple of times, you already feel pressure in your stomach, knots tied tight and begging to be released. The sensation tightens further, shoots of it flying down your legs and up your spine. You clench around him hard, moaning.
"Fuck Eddie I'm gonna cum, fuck." You pant out, eyes wide.
"Already? Shit you're gonna give me an ego."
"You already- oh God, fuck- you already have one."
He laughs loud and thrusts into you harder. Instantly you release, the ropes holding your stomach snapping. You come with a high pitched squeal of his name. You hear your wetness before you can feel it, a squelching noise resonating with each drive into your sopping cunt.
"Oh fuck, sweet thing, you squirted. Soaked me. You're- perfect" he groans. You keen at the praise.
Getting on his knees he pulls you bodily into him, slamming into you harder, hands digging at the flesh of your hips. You've never felt so full in your life, his cock piercing nudging your g spot with each thrust.
Eddie's grunting with effort, hair completely loose now, wild around his shoulders. Your fingernails bite into his flexing muscles leaving crescent moons in their wake.
"Shit, sweet thing, oh fuck."
Eddie pushes himself forcefully back on top of you, folding you in half, knees pressed against your stomach.
"Oh Eddie!"  It's just so overwhelming. You're full to the brim with him, satisfaction coating your insides, eyelids coated with emotion. Tears spring out the corners of your eyes, running down your temples. You're trembling, inundated with emotion and sensation.
"Hey, hey, you ok?" He slows.
"Yes fuck please Eddie don't fucking stop!"
Grinning wickedly he thrusts into you without restraint, slamming his hip bones into the flesh of your thighs, cock breaching you like nothing ever before.
Clamping down around him, your third orgasm is an ocean; wave after wave of sinful pleasure washing over the very fabric of your being, stripping you back to your bare components and leaving you breathless, sweating, and as exposed as a raw nerve. You babble, and cry, and whine his name, eyes tight shut, utterly taken by the moment.
Eddie's plunges into you start to falter. Feeling him twitching, becoming impossibly harder inside you he comes, spilling his seed deep into your cunt. The warm, rushing feeling just expands the length of your own release, waves finally ebbing and retreating.
Eddie pulls out from you, leaving you feeling emptier than ever before. He lies on his side next to you, thumb approaching to rub a stray tear from your cheek. You're both perspiring; glowing forms gasping for air.
Finally catching some semblance of breath, he strokes your cheek again, wide grin dissipating on his face.
"You ok pretty girl?"
"Yeah you could say that." You huffed a laugh, still trying to focus on how he'd made you feel.
"But you cried?" Its a question, but he looks concerned, hands attempting to comfort you.
"It was just, so much. Too good, you know." Taking in his smirk you say "don't you let that go to your head!"
"Bit fuckin' late for that" he laughs. "C'mere."
He gathers you up in his strong arms, holding you close, and kisses you on the forehead. The affection honestly takes you by surprise, expecting him to have bolted by this point, having got what he wanted.
"Can I level with you?"
Oh shit here we go.
"I've wanted to do that since you moved in." He grins at you.
"Oh, really?" You look up at him, surprised that he'd been feeling the same as you. "Well, same. You're really hot."
He laughs and strokes your back.
"You working tomorrow?"
"No, why? Are you?"
"No. I wanna take you out somewhere, if you want." He almost looks embarrassed. Almost.
"Are you asking me out on a date Mr Munson?" You smirk at him in disbelief.
"I mean, yeah, if you wanna. Unless you just wanted this to be a one time thing, I get it, I can just leave." There's a quaver to his voice. A weakness your not used to hearing.
You stare up at him. Cocky, confident Eddie Munson, was about as unsure as you were. You giggle.
"I'd love to go on a date with you." Smiling, you attempt to hide it into his inked chest.
"So, wanna take a shower?"
"Well" you say, leaning up on your elbow, "we could. Or..."
"Or what, sweet thing?" He rubs your arm, furrowing his brow.
"Or, we could do that again."
Tag list (please reblog this fic if you want to stay in the tags ILY ❤)
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cyjammy · 3 months
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Vox and Alastor’s Dynamic is so FUN
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Hazbin Hotel Season 1 Episode 2 Spoilers ahead!
I have to talk about Vox and Alastor’s “rivalry”. I love how Alastor just couldn’t care less, he’s witty, he’s emotionless and that makes him all the more powerful.
Well, not emotionless since he does express outward disgust towards anything digital, but the fact he can keep himself composed because he knows he is the shit and that’s what makes him my absolute favorite.
That showed through in the pilot and the show didn’t fail to deliver. I love how he’s handled. Viv’s characterization is wonderful.
Most fics I have read with Alastor have shown him as vunerable despite the story never alluding to that and it’s such a breath of fresh air to have canon content of Alastor being his authentic self.
My god do I love a character that’s strong and not swayed by emotion, but they can be handled well too. I.E. VOX oh my god. Every fanon had him pegged down as the victim to Val’s wrath, but he’s the mastermind behind the scenes. A complete subversion of everyone’s expectations. And that’s for another post I’m about to go crazy on, but I digress.
Vox is a man up in his ivory electronic tower with villainous intentions, but he falls short because of emotion!
Handling Velvet’s demands to get Val together? A quick pep talk with himself and he’s got it.
Addressing unforeseen circumstances with concerned sinners? Easy.
But Alastor?
He sees RED. He let Valentino have it when he even thought about going on a rampage over a sinner under his thumb.
When it comes to Alastor, Vox goes on a hate campaign and makes a fool of himself.
Meanwhile, Alastor was minding his business, and Vox couldn’t deal with that.
So much so he causes a blackout in the Wrath ring!
Why? Because of his rejection sensitivity.
He is this all powerful overlord with companions in his rule and when he asks someone of similar station to become his equal he gets rejected.
It’s unheard of for him. He cannot fathom it.
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Because that makes Alastor a factor he cannot control.
Val says that Alastor “almost beat him”. Val may not have witnessed that fight and Vox spun it around to claim he came out on top.
But if he did, he definitely wouldn’t let Alastor get away.
Valentino and Vox have known each other for a long time, as shown in a photo in the background in the episode.
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So either this spat began before they had met and Vox lied or Valentino witnessed it. I'm excited to see which way that goes.
In terms of influence, Alastor seems to win that battle. Vox is in charge of electrical currents and anything in the digital space.
Alastor is so far removed from that Vox has no influence over him. He refuses to be involved with new technology.
But with Vox having an army of sinners under his wing through subliminal messaging, he had security and power.
With Alastor’s return he brings CHARISMA and he’s doing it SO FUCKING WELL.
This is not a battle, it’s a slaughter, and Alastor is WINNING. With television there are so many ways to captivate a viewer but with radio all the host has is their voice and personality. It all has to be shown in a medium that doesn’t have many options for uniqueness.
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Alastor defends himself with grace. He throws out compliments to his fellow overlords while still having it be a slight to the man who began the fight.
THE Vs ARE PREENING AT HIS PRAISE. THIS MAN IS GOATED.
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It's night and day, but that's probably because Valentino and Velvet are tired of Vox's shit. I love this parallel so much!
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Vox needed to be the person he was with Valentino at all times if this is a battle he wants to win, but he’s so bitter he will never see that.
He’s stubborn and that’s his main flaw.
And I fucking love it.
Alastor knows what he’s thinking and how to avoid it.
Always a step ahead. And their duet showcases that perfectly.
Alastor uses his opponent’s power against them, seeing the slanderous TV campaign and immediately going on air.
He does that in the pilot as well and seeing that this has become a habit for him is so fun to see.
Alastor is not to be messed with and I feel like people decided to gloss over that. But it’s so in your face you cannot deny it.
Alastor is TERRIFYING with a chilling deposition that will give you nightmares if you dare cross him.
Give him the respect he fucking deserves.
And the music and the visuals of the song — A whole fucking masterpiece.
I’m in love with their dynamic so far and I can’t wait to see where it goes.
So far Vox is the obsessed fanatic that couldn’t handle rejection.
There has to be more than that.
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thebleedingeffect · 2 years
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Ohhhhhh who wants to hear me complain about work
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qqueenofhades · 4 months
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Hi! This question has been noodling in my head for a few weeks, and I’ve been really curious to hear your opinion. I’ve appreciated your very thoughtful commentary on the ways the online left in particular have hurt the real and concerted efforts that have been made to navigate through the Gaza war in support of Palestine. I’ve seen a lot of outrage online about Biden bypassing congress in order to make another emergency weapons sale to Israel, which does indeed read as counter to helping to the Palestinians facing endless and indiscriminate violence. I understand that you might not want to answer this ask, because the work that you already do in your life offline and the work that you do here on tumblr to respond to and explain these issues is exhausting enough. Thanks so much for your time and your thoughtful contributions! It’s always really helped me remember to slow down and think critically about the media I consume.
Because you have asked this thoughtfully and in good faith, I will return the favor and give you a careful and extensive answer to the best of my ability. However, obligatory top-of-post disclaimer that I will disable reblogs at the first hint of any wankery in the notes and I will not answer any follow-ups or secondary asks at this time (unless I decide to do so, but I engage with this topic sparingly, judiciously, and only in small doses, so don't count on it).
First, let me say that the moment, I disagree with substantial portions of how Biden is handling the two main foreign-policy crises (Ukraine and Gaza). In regard to Ukraine, I think he's backed off, taken his foot off the gas, and otherwise given Republicans ammunition to keep delaying or watering down a new aid bill, is refusing to disburse military aid packages from the $4 billion of funding remaining that was previously approved by Congress, hasn't sent long-range ATACMS and other critical military hardware that might bring the war to an end sooner, and is not (as of the moment, though recent reporting suggests this might change) pushing hard enough for frozen Russian assets to be transferred to Ukraine for military and/or humanitarian financial assistance. However, I am also aware (unlike, it seems, much of the left-leaning internet) that I am basing these judgments only on my personal impressions, on what is reported (or not reported) in the media (which has plenty of its own problems) and otherwise what is formed in my role as an ordinary American citizen without any kind of special, classified, high-level, or government access. I know nothing more than any of you, and I also know that a lot of what goes on behind closed doors does not appear on Political Twitter and/or the Washington Post or the Guardian or Daily Kos or whatever other aggregate sources of information I or any left-leaning person typically consumes. So it's highly possible (and this is my cautious academic instinct speaking) that I do not, in fact, have a full picture of events. There are also contributing factors that Biden cannot simply handwave aside, even if he did, say, dip back into the $4 billion pot in the meantime. Congress will need to pass a new funding bill for Ukraine aid and the MAGA Republicans have been enthusiastically blocking it to the point where Putin's cronies on Russian state TV praise them effusively for it. We all know about the Republicans and Russia's mutual love affair. So.
The same goes for Gaza, and even more because we have already had reporting about how the Biden administration is walking a behind-the-scenes tightrope in a number of seemingly impossible tasks: keeping the war from spreading to a larger theater, pressuring Netanyahu to dial down, y'know, the rampant genocide (when Netanyahu notoriously doesn't like Biden, was very close with Trump, and would be happy to keep the war going in order to boost Trump's chances of being re-elected and save Netanyahu himself from his own criminal prosecutions), and pursuing a complex policy toward the state of Israel that does not follow the antisemitic Western Online Left's fever dream of "Israel suddenly disappears overnight and falls into the ocean and all Jews die or disappear." We have had multiple credibly sourced reports about this. Blinken is back in the Middle East right now trying to keep the war from spreading. The US under Biden has criticized Israel's essentially empty policy document for post-war Gaza as not being remotely feasible (because it's so vague) and gone so far as to voice support for a two-state solution with Palestinian self-determination (which is itself quite radically different from previous administrations). However, they have also vetoed UN ceasefire resolutions and other essentially meaningless political theater (the UN as a whole has been ruthlessly exposed in the last few years for being completely useless) that are easy to gin up outrage about, and that's what the internet focuses on, rather than any of the other complicated actions taking place.
All of this is to say that no, in fact, I don't blindly support everything the Biden administration is doing in regard to either Ukraine or Israel right now, but I actually have a sense of real-world perspective about it and understand that there are certain immutable realities that we are working with and which will not be erased by some absolute jackasses yelling at Biden in a historically black church at the commemoration of an anti-black terrorist attack. Likewise, as I've said it before and I'll say it again, and as plenty of other people have noticed and pointed out, the Western left is using this as an orgy of pseudo-revolutionary fervor that focuses on using Hamas as a proxy for their own fantasies of violent uprising against their own governments. Because while yes, anti-zionism and antisemitism are two distinct things and represent different aims and goals, it's become more or less irrelevant in allegedly pro-Palestine Western leftist spaces. It's just increasingly rabid, accelerationist, and nihilistic antisemitism all the time, or the obvious usage of "Zionist" to mean "Jew." It's not good. There is no concept of actual restorative justice for Palestinians or other people, such as Ukrainians, Syrians, Uyghurs, Taiwanese, etc, either undergoing genocide or facing the threat of it, because Western leftists have latched onto this cause solely as a stick to beat the Democratic Party with and have no actual moral interest or concern in stopping genocide elsewhere in the world or repudiating it as a method overall. They just want the state of Israel (which they characterize as a "proxy state for white western colonialism" despite the many, many things historically, religiously, and politically wrong with that statement, because it means it now Contains the Right Buzzwords to Oppose It) to be destroyed altogether in the name of "opposing colonialism," but it really seems to be all about opposing Jews. Hmm.
Simply put, Biden is not ever going to pursue a policy of "let's totally abandon Israel tomorrow, never sell it any weapons or allow it to defend its own civilians, and agree that Hamas is actually a good representation or advocate for the Palestinian people" in the way a number of Western Online Leftists seem to think he should do. There is still the fact that Israeli civilians do exist and that Hamas has continued to launch missiles at them daily, inconvenient as that fact might be for the Hamas fanboys (and fangirls) who now populate much of what passes for Western leftist discourse spaces. (Either that or they don't care, because in their view, Israeli civilians are fully acceptable collateral damage by virtue of simply living in Israel in the first place, which -- yikes. Fucking yikes. That is all.) The number of people professing to be lifelong leftists who are Just Shocked at all the antisemitism, or thinking that any and all antisemitism is just artificially introduced into leftist spaces by bad-faith right-wing/Nazi psyops either has not spent any actual time around leftists, or (more likely) simply does not listen to what they openly say. The antisemitism is virulent, constant, and only getting worse. On the most basic level, regardless of the other difficulties around the founding of Israel as a state in 1948 and the fact that doing so on some of the most bitterly religiously, politically, ethnically, and culturally contested territory in the world for over two thousand years was always going to be a massive clusterfuck, the fact of its immediate post-Holocaust creation simply cannot be ignored the way many Online Leftists do. Israel exists because of the worst antisemitic mass murder in recorded history (and that's a high bar). That fact must be incorporated into any actual discussions about its right either to exist or to protect its own civilians. But this gets turned into "Israel exists only as a puppet state of white western colonialists" which is just bad on so, so many levels.
The collective Western Online Leftist feeling seems to be that Hamas are innocent and wronged freedom fighters who are begging for a ceasefire and the cruel Israelis aren't granting them one. This is not true. Hamas has rejected multiple ceasefire opportunities, and continued to launch missiles and retaliatory attacks, because they are terrorists and they do not want or represent any serious opportunity to negotiate in the framework of western liberal democracy. They are treated as helpless woobified blorbos by much of the Western leftist-leaning internet. They are not. In that case, Biden bypassing Congress to sell Israel weapons (which was just something like 100 million of artillery shells, which is not nothing but still not a huge systematic thing like, say, Reagan's Iran-Contra scandal) is not great. I do not support anything Israel is doing to Gaza. It is abhorrent. However, there are reasons for Biden to provide some limited amount of weapons to Israel without congressional approval that do not automatically and mindlessly equate to BIDEN SUPPORTS TOTAL GENOCIDE IN GAZA!!!!!!1 Especially when as I've said, the Online Leftists only care about stopping genocide when it fits their political self-righteousness, and absolutely not at all the rest of the time.
This is representative of the fact that Western Online Leftism has now completed its all-out descent into blind Noam Chomskyism. Chomsky has never met a "leftist" or "anti-Western" genocide he couldn't deny, excuse, or openly cheerlead (going all the way back to the 1970s and Pol Pot/the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia and going up to the minute with Russia/Ukraine and Israel/Palestine). Noam Chomsky is the leftist Henry Kissinger. His ethics and morals are equally abhorrent, he's just as willing to justify total genocide in the name of advancing his preferred political ideology, and while there were (justifiably) celebrations and gloating memes across Tumblr when Kissinger finally bit the dust, Chomsky's beliefs are replicated with slavish adoration in many other Tumblr spaces and spread in some form or another to the rest of the website, which now takes them as leftist gospel (and let's not even talk about Twitter). This represents my absolute frustration with the fact that Western Online Leftism has devolved to such a degraded, mindless, useless, and malevolent level that "cheerlead for any anti-western/Leftist TM terrorist group or state" is taken to be the be-all and end-all of their moral philosophy. Someone remarked that ISIS peaked too early; if they were still at the height of their powers today, they would have a legion of devoted white so-called progressive Twitter users shilling earnestly and angrily for them, and Christ, isn't that the fucking truth.
I know we live in a hard, frightening, complex, and difficult world, and it's hard to sort out what our moral responsibility and action should be at any given time, especially since the answer is always so frustratingly partial and incomplete. Nobody of basic good sense and decency wants to see Gaza leveled while the Israeli state continues to apply a number of violently cruel collective punishments even outside the actual daily bombing of civilians. But for the love of god, let's get rid of the idea that the continued mindless violence doesn't benefit Hamas (because it does; unsurprisingly, sympathy for their cause has soared in Gaza) as much as it does Israel, or that Hamas is some kind of benevolent peacemaker that is being thwarted by the cruel imperialist US/West. And going back to the incident that prompted you to send me this ask: white leftists have often and repeatedly demonstrated their withering disdain for black people, Democratic voters, "mainstream" Americans, and anyone else doesn't buy into the twisted tankie fantasy land where getting rid of Biden would somehow be a massive coup for social justice (by getting Trump, now openly announcing at every turn that he will be a dictator, back into office! Very praxis, much justice. Wow.)
In short: if you, a white person, stand up in Mother Emanuel AME -- one of the most sacred sites for Black churchgoers, who are indeed often heavily Democratic voters -- in the middle of a remembrance service for victims of white supremacist terrorism, after the Black pastor has asked you not to protest inside the church out of respect for the Black community coming together to relive its trauma -- just so you can heckle Biden and feel good about yourself, then Jesus Christ. You don't care about restorative justice for people of color, or literally any justice at all, much less "stopping genocide." You just want to use them as props for your Chomsky cosplay revolutionary fantasies and your sense of self-righteous superiority over literally everyone else, regardless of the real-world consequences. So I have no hesitation whatsoever in telling those people to get fucked. Often and repeatedly.
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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year
Note
Just hear me out,
Wild west outlaw König.
That's all ,please and thank you❤️
P.s I love love love your work and you inspire me so much more than words can express,so thank you so much
Wild West Outlaw König Headcanons
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Warnings: Outlaw König, König Kills People, Obsessive König, König (DEEP) in Love, Looting, Kidnapping, Implied Smut, Non-Explicit Descriptions of Smut, Dominant König, Submissive König, Mention of Ghost, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Petnames, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You.
A/N: Thank you so much for your kind words, my lovely ! Your kind words have touched my heart, and I hope your creative endeavours flourish <3
Man owns a pair of handcuffs and KNOWS how to use them.
Let’s work on the assumption that he kidnapped you.
Perhaps you were already partially romantically involved but your family would never let you marry someone like König, so he stages a robbery and takes you as part of the ransom.
One he has no intention of accepting any payment for because he’s never letting you go.
König’s monstrous proportions make it easy for him to physically overpower aggressors – other bandits, outlaws, authority figures.
However, he does pose something of a hazard to himself because there’s (much) more of him to hit.
Luckily, he’s straight out of a situation the minute it gets sticky – as if he just disappears into thin air.
Just one of the reasons why he’s called the Phantom Outlaw.
Not to be confused with Ghost, who is also an outlaw but never leaves a trace (or a witness), making his reputation far more ghoulish than König’s.
Though, König does excel in the fear factor, his sheer size and notoriety – his trenchcoat and mask the very visage of Death – forcing everyone who sees him to relinquish their goods in exchange for their lives.
Speaking of, König’s ability to swing thousands in cash makes for a happy home life, given how he spends much of his fortune on you.
Clothes, jewels, literature, instruments, automobiles: you name it, you’ve got at least a treasure trove of each.
Even if you try to resist these gifts, König refuses to let up.
“Can’t have my precious little Engel going without, can I ?”
So, in return, you typically handle all the chores, though König insists you don’t have to.
“It’s not like we can hire a maid to do it for us, can we ?” you tell him. “Especially not when there’s a handsome bounty on that even more handsome head of yours.”
Said bounty is what makes it difficult for the two of you to stay in one place for too long.
And whenever you move, you always try to make the house a safe space for König.
Blankets in his favourite chair, his favourite meal on the table for him whenever you know he’s going to have a rough day, a bit of fun before bed, etc.
You can tell whenever he feels really comfortable, because he takes up three quarters of the bed, just sprawled out like a rapidly growing infection.
And you always fit neatly against his side. Or on his chest.
König calls you his “Little bunny” (or “Bun-Bun”) because of how small you look when you’re nuzzled into his chest.
He never takes you, or anything you do, for granted.
You don’t know this (so keep this a secret between you and I) but König watches you when you sleep. More than you’d think.
Truth be told, the outlaw life terrifies him.
Sure, he has the swagger and the notoriety to make off with thousands in gold, jewels, and lavish material items, but, really, his greatest, most prized treasure is you.
There is only one of you. You cannot be bought, or replicated, or found in the wild like an ore of purest diamond.
Simply put, König’s success is entirely down to the fact that he can’t be caught lacking.
If he ever was to, he knows he’d lose you. Whether you’re taken by a stray bullet in a shoot-out or your town’s rangers come to tear you from his cold, lifeless grip, König takes every precaution to circumvent these tragedies by remaining the fastest hand in the west. And the most ruthless.
Even for an outlaw, his kill count is exceedingly high.
And it’s no coincidence that the numbers began to climb after he met you. Fell in love with you.
People who he’s seen giving you lecherous stares, or those he can sense have poor intentions, he’s taken them out the back and absolved the world of their presence.
And, at the end of every excursion, every execution, every haul, the weight of the world falls from König’s shoulders as he comes back to you.
He takes his mask down around you, hangs his hat upon the coat rack. You’re the only person who he shows his face to.
But, whenever you can tell a fragment of the day resides pinned in his mind, shrapnel of his self-inflicted lifestyle, you make sure to service him before bed.
How he likes to be serviced can change on a day-to-day basis. He’s not fussy.
The only thing that changes is whether he wants to be handled by you or if he wants to slam you into the pillows.
Possessive sex <333.
“Tell me you love me,” he rasps into your ear, pinning you to the mattress with his body, making escape an impossibility to you. “Tell me I’m the only one that will ever have you like this,”
As stated previously; he has a pair of handcuffs and knows how to use them.
Or, if they’re too far out of reach and he needs you bound now, he’ll use rope. Or even just his hands.
Eye contact. The whole time.
It’s as if a different person inhabits him when he gets like this; something dark and jagged, no mere demon, possesses his form. And, by extension, yours.
König’s not stopping until you’re full, he’s empty, and he’s confident you’re not leaving the house for the next few days.
But, when König is feeling fragile, he lets you take the lead.
Just lies back while you’re on top of him, calling him your “Good boy”, “my Prince”, “my protector,” – anything that reaffirms that he holds a great deal of importance in your life.
More often than not, he ends up with tears in his eyes.
Nobody has ever been so gentle and loving towards him as you have. And coupled with how you’re taking him slowly, taking the time to make sure you’re hitting all bases and he’s thoroughly loved, sends him over the edge.
Kiss his tears away and his soul leaves his body.
It’s times like these that, more than anything, König wants a simple life. A paroxysmal desire to lead an ordinary existence where the two of you can live together happily, without the threat of being chased out of town every few months.
And, maybe, one day, even have a family together.
Until then, König will continue to dream, to give you a lifestyle of sapphires and gold and every delicacy the human mind can conjure.
And whenever he looks at you before he leaves, he sees his good luck charm, the light at the end of his tunnel. And, most importantly, the embodiment of love itself.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
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tifaisms · 4 months
Text
RWBY and Trauma
So, i want to talk a little bit about RWBY. Specifically, with regards to its thematic storytelling. I think I made a post about this a few days ago but im gonna make a longer one here.
RWBY tackles a lot of themes in its storytelling. Death, grief, fear, trust, etc. to name a few.
One of the bigger themes is "keep moving forward", which was also Monty's motto. It is exemplified through the characters, both heroes and villains, and how they handle trauma and suffering.
The villains have pretty much all suffered. Salem, Cinder, Hazel, Mercury, Emerald, Roman, Neo, even Watts, all suffered. They experienced trauma, and hardship, and it shaped them.
The big difference between them and team RWBY is that they cannot move forward. Where team RWBY learn to grow and change. Salem couldn't accept loss, and grief, and instead turned those emotions to anger, same with Hazel, Adam, Neo, they all refused to move beyond their trauma. Yang put it pretty well in V8 - all this death and destruction because something bad happened to you once upon a time?
Trauma is inevitable. But the difference between the heroes and the villains is how their trauma impacts them going forward. And not just in a "the villains react negatively and the heroes don't" because Ruby reacted poorly, as did Blake, and Weiss in the early volumes. Qrow drinks to deal with it, and Ozpin let the betrayal he experienced define him.
The difference here is that the heroes try to grow and stop making their suffering everyone else's problem. You cannot use your trauma to justify lashing out at the world and other people. I think Kratos in God of War put it quite well - "Do not be sorry. Be better." You can't hurt people because you are traumatised, because all that does is traumatise everyone else. It isn't a justification for lashing out. Salem was traumatised, and she murdered so many people, and traumatised a bunch of other people, who will only continue that cycle.
It is worth noting that some of the antagonists do grow and change and become better. Ilia, Emerald, Hazel, and Neo are the big examples. They were all hurt by the world, and they turned to anger and violence. But Ilia is convinced by Blake that it isn't what she wants, and Blake is right. So Ilia turns away from that path. Hazel and Emerald both change and grow, and whilst Hazel gets the noble sacrifice, Emerald has to make amends for hurting people by being and doing better, and trying to make a positive impact on the world. And Neo had an entire arc culminating in her seeking revenge, and getting it, and realising that it was a hollow victory that left her with nothing but directionless grief and anger. When she had nothing to pursue, she was forced to confront the fact that she was just running from her actual feelings and lashing out. In the end, she chooses to go to the tree willingly, which is essentially willingly giving in to change and growth, because that's what the tree does.
The central conflict of the show is essentially that everyone has suffered, and experienced trauma. But it is the hero's ability and desire to grow beyond it and be better, so that they stop hurting the people around them, that sets them apart from the villains, who refuse to keep moving forward and instead just let their suffering infect everyone else, perpetuating an endless cycle of violence and conflict.
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lynnlovesthestars · 6 months
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Hi! I’m new to your blog and have been loving all of your works!
If you’re comfortable with it, I was wondering how you think Astarion would react/feel about a virgin tav/reader who went through SA when they were younger, and wish to wait until they are both completely ready and comfortable with being intimate?
Hii, I can definitely do it, though i will merge it with another ask I received- asking to write hcs about Astarion learning Tav is a survivor.
I will say, making it with the hc has been a little easier on me, usually when i write about SA i spend an insane amount of time making sure i'm comfortable and you (readers) are as well, and i hesitate a lot before publishing it *(queue up scars and blood, that I wrote on an impulse after a nightmare, and it took me a solid week before publishing it)*
ANYWAYS.
ofc I hope this will be of comfort to you, and it won't trigger you.. sometimes all we want is to find solace into our favourite characters, so i wish tonight this will in a way comfort you...
and if anyone needs to vent, or talk, feel free to hit up my dm's, they are a safe space for anyone and i'll always offer up comfort.. we don't need to struggle alone, and sometimes being heard is what we need to make a new step forward<3
As always, my little stars, excercise kindness! we don't know who's gonna pass by this, and we don't know how hard it can be for them.
This being said, I hope you'll like it!
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Headcanon: Astarion learning Tav is a survivor.
Pairing: Astarion x reader. Warnings: mentions of past trauma and SA. wc: 1.7k
-He starts suspecting something about it around the time of the tiefling party. He had offered to sneak out while everyone was asleep to "enjoy yourselves", but you refused right away. He definitely picked up some involuntary movement you did that told him there was more to the "I'm not ready". You probably flinched or jerked away, usually it would go unnoticed, but Astarion could recognize the subtle harshness hidden behind your reaction.
-He doesn't want to pry into it, as much as he needed to know as much as possible about you- he says for the sake of his undead skin- he wasn't entirely confident you trusted him enough to share your past. Also he wasn't sure he could handle someone confiding in him, but he would never admit it. At the end of the day, all he knew about social interaction were faint memories of his magistrate life, or means to survival. He simply wasn't sure he could have the empathy to deal with someone else's emotions, both in good and in bad.
-When you meet the gur, and you start peering into his past, he can't hide the very obvious rock in the shoe, Cazador and his spawn life, and it is because of the gur that you actually open up to him. When he starts going deeper and deeper into Cazador's orders to him and his repulsion towards sex, you do feel like you can share something so intimate, that's been heavy on you, well since it happened. 
-The first time you mention it though, you are very blunt.
-"And honestly I don't know anything else besides disgust for it" He'd admit as he bit the inside of his cheek.
"I'm sorry, Astarion" You'd start, you wanted to hold his hand to comfort him, cause that kind of pain you knew. "I understand how you feel though. If you need—" He cut you short, anger was bubbling quickly in his stomach. You swore his face almost reddened in anger as he raised his voice.
"No, you don't" He was one sound shirt from hissing at you. "You cannot understand what it feels like" He'd sneer at you. "No one can understand what it feels like to be stripped of your bodily autonomy". In a way the harshness in his voice was like a slap to your face, cause you did in fact know. From the other, you didn't expect your brain to beeline directly towards that sealed drawer in your brain where you tried to hide the haunting memory. 
“I went through it myself, you shithead” You got up, uncaring of whatever reaction he could have in that moment, and you just left.
-He was taken aback, on different levels, both because of your sudden shift in mood, because of the blunt reveal, and deep down because he was sorry, though again he’d never admit it out loud.
-You ignored him for the rest of the day, avoiding his stare and disappearing in your tent right after you were done setting camp, and that unsettled him so much that he was weighing the possibility of apologizing cause, of course, he didn’t know.
-You skipped dinner, and even when everyone else was asleep, you didn’t come out from your tent to take your usual nightly walk. The pang of guilt was becoming more like a stab as he saw the light in your tent still burning, and the faint shadow of you moving around restless.
-He prepared a peace offering, a bowl of the leftover stew, as he had to muster the guts to apologize. 
-”Sorry, I was an asshole earlier, I brought you food” He blurted out right after he knocked on the wooden support of the tent, and he was surprised when you still let him in.
-Initially it was awkward, cause you were eating and not saying anything, but after a while he mustered up the courage to offer his shoulder to you. “If you even wish to talk” He’d say.
-You told him a bit of what happened, without going too much into detail, since you were still shaken from the memories that resurfaced.
-Since then he started to learn your boundaries: how to catch your attention without startling you, what were triggering topics for you, how you liked physical touch, and how it triggered you as well.
-In a way he becomes very protective of you, especially if you open up more often about your trauma, and you can see it.
-He made sure everyone respected your boundaries, whether it was Gale with his weave thing pulling you too close, or a stranger breathing on your neck, he was always ready to remind them of their place. 
-”Don’t you see our dear captain doesn't want to be that close?!” “Keep your hands to yourself, they don't like being grabbed by the wrists” “Get away from her, before I stab you” 
-He noticed how you always double checked the perimeter of the camp before the sun would set, and before getting in your tent you’d always look around in the distance, trying to spot if something was out of place. So he joined you in your routine, helping you check around and make sure you were ready in case anything could have happened.
-As you get closer, and you both open up more to each other, he even suggests he moves his tent closer to yours. “I can keep an eye around” Was his explanation, when he first brought it up. 
-And it helped so much with your sleep, you felt a little safer.
-If you didn’t feel safe at night, he’d suggest putting your tents together into one. Maybe it was a way to keep you closer, or he needed reassurance, but he made sure you knew you could place your bedroll anywhere as far or as close to him as you liked.
-Eventually as your bond would deepen and deepen, and you’d grow fond of each other, you found yourselves rediscovering your touch together. It started with your fingers tapping on his arm as you were walking, or a strand of your hair being pulled behind your ear. Some nights you’d sit close in your tent, and would hold hands, caress each other’s cheeks, and slowly even reach out for a kiss or two.
-It was a slow process, where you really got to know each other like no one else ever did. You could read each other like a book, yet you never shied away from asking each other for consent for anything.
-”Can I hold your hand” “Can I kiss your cheek” “Can I rest my head on your chest”
-The thing you both struggled with the most, was falling asleep holding each other. You’d panic very quickly when you would feel your chest becoming tighter. He’d move away as quickly as possible, and give you the space you needed.
-When he confesses he has been falling for you, it’s time to approach the very delicate topic of sex. You opened up about the fact that you wanted to wait ‘till you were ready, and he agreed without hesitation. Of course because he understood where you came from, he never asked for any help either, if he’d feel like he needed some release, he’d disappear for a bit and deal with it himself, without making you feel like a burden.
“I just want to make sure we are on the same page on this” You’d say as you crossed your arms, almost as if you wanted to fold yourself in and away. “If you want to have sex, I can’t right now” You’d start saying, but stop on your tracks for a second. “Wait, not that I can’t. I don’t want to have sex at the moment” You’d correct yourself, confident in your statement, he wasn’t even thinking about it, though he respected completely.
“I get it, and it’s okay my love” He’d say, patting your shoulder, and wondering whether he wanted to hold your hand or kiss it, he wanted to let you know he truly understood. “I don’t want to either” He smiled, and in that moment it was like both you two finally breathed. You’d reach for his hand to hold it in yours.
“It’s not because of you though” You wanted to explain to him, you were so close it was something you were ready to share, especially since you were slowly walking towards a different level of intimacy together, he had to know. “I want to do it when we are both ready” 
“I understand, my sweet, there’s no need for explanations” He’d smile again, one of his fangs slightly poked out against his lip. “You said you don’t want sex yet, so it’s no” 
“I’m a virgin” You’d blurt out, and that was something he didn’t entirely expect.
“Oh” He’d say at first, but as he noticed your cheeks slowly warming up, he pulled you closer to him, his forehead against yours. “It’s okay, I don’t care about it” He’d exhale. “As long as it’s you, I don’t care about anything” 
-When you reach Baldur’s Gate and finally you settle in the elfsong tavern, you made sure you always had a corner of time dedicated to helping each other relearn touch. 
-You'd lay next to each other in different levels of nakedness depending on how you felt at the moment, and you'd spend your time tracing each other's features. Whenever you'd feel comfortable enough to venture into a new thing, he'd ask for permission. 
-"Would you feel comfortable if I touched your hips?" "Can I trace your scars with my fingers?” “May I pull you closer?”
-You didn't fight time, you didn't rush towards sex. It came slowly and it was a process full of ups and downs. Some attempts ended up with you both sobbing, too overwhelmed. Other's ended up with panic attacks. Eventually though, after a lot of work together, you reached a point where you'd be able to make love.
-it was a very soft moment between you two. It involved a lot of comforting, kisses and patience, but it was something so profound, it wasn't only about shared pleasure, but it was about connecting your bodies and your souls. In a way it was like a wedding for you two it was the peak of trust you could have with each other. 
-He'd whisper so many times how proud he was of you, how much he loved you, and how glad he was that you were the one that would spend their life with him.
-Tears eventually arrived, they were the tears of two souls that finally had reclaimed a bit of their freedom. It was the cries of someone that was finally healing. 
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holylulusworld · 9 months
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Pick you up
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Summary: Daddy comes to save the day.
Pairing: Biker!Ari Levinson x fem!Reader
Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers
Warnings: angst, bitchy girls, heavy daddy kink, caregiver Ari, sexual harassment (not Ari), implied violence, hurt & comfort (kinda), fluff, comforting, protective Ari
Read the prequel here: Let you down
Pick you up masterlist
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“Daddy, please come pick me up. They are all so mean to me,” you sniff on the phone. “I don’t want to stay here. I thought this is going to be fun, but it’s not.”
The girls from your workplace watch you on the phone. They roll their eyes and huff.
“She calls her daddy to pick her up. We were right. She’s not mature enough for our little club. I don’t know what a girl like her wants in New York.”
You hang up and sigh. The plan to spend the weekend with the people you’re working with went down the drain the moment they started to talk low about your outfit, your make-up (or rather the lack of it), and the fact that you don’t want to talk about yourself with people you barely know.
Ignoring your nagging colleagues, you walk out of the living room to grab your bag and jacket. You will wait outside for your daddy to pick you up.
You exhale sharply when one of them follows you outside. “You didn’t have to call your daddy. How old are you, twelve?”
“Just leave me alone,” you shoulder your bag and grab the door handle. “I’ll be waiting outside. I want nothing to do with you and the others.”
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It doesn’t take more than ten minutes before you see his bike. Your heart flutters when your daddy brings the motorcycle to a complete stop. He plants both feet firmly on the ground, making you shiver as you stare at his long legs.
You wring your hands as he kicks the kickstand down with his left foot and leans the bike on it. 
“Fuck, daddy,” you press your thighs together, adding pressure to your tingling clit.
Ari swings his right foot over the motorcycle to get off it. He takes off his helmet and grins when his eyes land on you.
Eyes glued to Ari; you swallow thickly as he shakes his head to tame his mane.
“That’s…her … daddy?” Your colleagues gathered outside to get a look at your father. Or so they thought. They didn’t know you called your daddy, not your father. “He looks too young for being her father.”
“You are telling me!” Suzanne, the leader of the little group harassing you sneers. “That guy is not her father.”
“He’s so tall and handsome,” Caroline says. “No wonder she didn’t want to play with one of the guys. She’s got a hunk at home.”
“A daddy,” Suzanne grunts. “I knew something is off with that bitch.”
While your colleagues watch you and Ari, he worriedly calls your name.
“Y/N, what happened,” Ari asks, furrowing his brows as you run toward him to bury your face in his chest. “Baby kitten. Do I need to break bones or faces?”
“They wanted to play truth or dare, and spin the bottle,” you begin. “I agreed, because why not?”
“Okay.” Ari hums. “Go ahead. Daddy is here now.”
“Uh-I didn’t know there will be guys too, I swear.” You feel Ari stiffen. A deep rumble emits from his chest, and you know, someone is in trouble. You only hope it isn’t you. “I didn’t want to spin the bottle anymore because they changed the rules.”
“What rules? Tell me about it, princess,” you relax and take a deep breath. Ari always makes you feel safe and calm.
“They said we need to choose truth or dare. I chose dare, and suddenly the guys from the company were there too. They wanted to play too and Suzanne said I must kiss one of them.”
“I’ll kill them,” he growls. No one touches you but him. “No one forces my girl to kiss them.”
“I refused and chose truth instead. I said that I cannot kiss someone else because I got my boyfriend at home. They laughed, but agreed,” You sniffle. “They wanted me to tell them about the last time we had sex. I refused and they made fun of me. Calling me an uptight virgin.”
“It’s alright, I’m here now. Even if you were a virgin, it wouldn’t be a reason to make fun of you. They are awful people,” Ari softly speaks to you. You’re already worked up and he doesn’t want to risk you starting to hyperventilate. “No one is going to hurt you.”
“That’s not all.” You whimper now. “The game continued. The guys joined us. After a few rounds, the bottle landed on me. One of them chose dare and they…they wanted me to…”
“Baby, what happened?”
“They wanted me to ride one of the guys’ thighs. I told them that I got a boyfriend and won’t cheat on him. At first, I thought it was a joke. But they tried to push me onto that guy. I cried and grabbed my phone.”
“And then you called me,” Ari concludes as you slowly nod against him. “Good girl. You knew daddy always comes to your aid. Let me just kill them for you.”
“Please don’t leave me alone. Please,” you sniffle. “I don’t want to be alone with them ever again.”
“Princess, come with me.” Ari takes your bag out of your hands. He wraps one arm around your shoulders to guide you away from your colleague’s house and toward the street.
“Where are we going…?” you gasp as you see the whole club waiting for you and Ari.
You forgot that they wanted to go for a ride. Guilt washes over you. It was Ari’s day off and he wanted to spend it with his friends. Now you messed this up too.
Steve, the boss of the club gets off his bike. He nods at Ari as your boyfriend points at you. “Steve will take care of you for a moment. You like Steve right? He’s a good man and will protect you. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” you whimper.
“I’ve got her, Ari. Do what you must do,” Steve’s features soften when you watch Ari leave your side. “He’ll be right back, Y/N. Don’t worry. Ari was out of his mind when he heard you cry on the phone.”
“Maybe we should help him?” Bucky, another member of the club asks. He sneaked around the area and heard every word. “I wouldn’t mind roughing those douchebags up. Break a bone or two.”
“Buck, that’s Ari’s job,” Steve warns. “If he needs our help, we will help. Give him a moment…”
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Meanwhile, at the house, Ari barks at the women harassing you. “My girl loves her job and won’t quit because of you. If you ever make her life harder or just look at her the wrong way, we all will pay you a visit.”
“We…we didn’t…” Suzanne stammers. She never got yelled at by a tall guy like Ari before and is close to wetting herself.
“I know what you did,” Ari snaps at her. “Who is the guy putting his hands on my girl? Who wanted to force her to ride his thigh?”
“Uh-it’s him!” The other men point at the man wanting you to ride him. “He said that he wants her before we started the game. We didn’t have anything to do with it. It was all Suzanne and him.”
“You—” Ari cracks his neck. “Well, then. Let me show you what happens when you harass a woman.”
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“Ari. Daddy,” you run toward Ari the moment you see him. “What happened?” You look at his bloody knuckles. “You’re hurt.”
“Did you give it to them good?” Bucky smirks. “I can help. Let me break a few bones.”
“Buck, stop. I know you are antsy since your girl left, but we’ve got no time to start a fight,” Steve grunts. “Let’s bring Y/N home. She had a rough day.”
Ari carefully guides you toward his bikes. He softly speaks your name and caresses your back. “I’ll bring you home now, princess.”
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After a short ride back home you are in Ari’s arms. He whispers soothing words and nuzzles his face in your neck.
You’re lying on a soft mattress, hidden under the pillowfort you and Ari built for days like these. Days in which the world gets too much for you.
“You’re safe with me, princess. Always.”
“I know,” you mumble sleepily. “My protector…”
>> Prequel
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Tags in reblog.
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scribbledghost · 7 months
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Note: A request from @0runforyourlife0! Sorry this took me so long lol. Hope you enjoy!
It's not exactly a secret that yautja are hardy creatures.
Being an interpreter, you probably know that fact better than most.
The amount of abuse their bodies can take is a point of pride to them, made evident by their love of the hunt and how proudly they wear the ensuing scars.
However, you are human. Not yautja. And your body is nowhere near as capable of handling what theirs are.
So when you fall ill, your body's first instinct is to scream at you for rest.
But you're stubborn. Proud. And you don't want to seem weak.
So you try to push through it.
Of course, the yautja around you can spot your rising body temperature and how you stumble every so often.
They ask if you're alright, if you need medical attention. You deny them, and they don't press the issue further.
Up until one of them finds you unconscious on the floor, that is.
It kind of freaks them out, tbh. They can tell your body is warm (far too warm), so they know you're not dead, but they also know something is seriously wrong.
Immediately, they rush you to a healer who is better equipped to handle the situation.
He stays with you, chittering with the healer to see what needs to be done for you to recover.
And whatever needs to be done, will be done. He'll make sure of it.
I do not care how many times you tell him you're feeling better and can go back to work, you're staying put until you get cleared by someone else.
Despite appearances, yautja are also big on taking care of yourself when you need to.
After all, a hunter cannot be at peak condition if they refuse to acknowledge when they are sick, hurt, hungry, or thirsty.
So you sort of get a crash-course on how yautja view illness recovery.
It's speedy - the tech is immaculate on that front - but you're still not going anywhere until the healer comes by and says you're good to go.
Also don't be surprised if the yautja who cared for you sort of... keeps an eye on you for a while.
Probably turns into somewhat of a "you reluctantly now have a bodyguard" situation, except he's protecting you from yourself lol
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cheesit-notes · 9 months
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Simon Riley + Hand Kisses
tags: kissing obviously, ptsd for simon basically, gn!reader, overthinking simon, simon getting violent at one point, a/n: sorry i was gone for a week! i want to say i worked on stuff but ive been busy with things and this was the only thing i did. im not all that happy with the time to result ratio of this tbh but i love the idea of Simonand hand kisses so enjoy!
Ghost who cannot stand any and all kinds of intimate touches. he doesn’t like intimate touches. no, actually, he loathes those touches. it reminds him of a time he’d really rather forget. there’s no way to really kiss him without having to slowly practice. underneath the mask, he’s nothing more than the emotionally scarred, vulnerable Simon Riley who went through far too much for any human.
the first time both of you technically kissed, you had asked if you could kiss him, he said yes because you looked like you wanted it so badly. the two of you stood awkwardly in his barracks. he’s wondering if he should’ve changed clothes earlier, he just got back and was still in his uniform, probably smelled fowl, but you didn’t say a word. ah, he thought he could handle it. he really did. but to kiss was a lot easier said than done. and he’ll never fully forgive himself for shoving you away slamming you against the wall, and he was choking you. he didn’t actually hit you, you tell him that everyday, but the fact he fully intended to hit you for the moment scared him. plagued with the thought that he truly was no different from his father; he could barely look at you for the weeks following that, much less talk to you. no, he refused to do so much as to stand near you; petrified he wouldn’t snap out of it in time, terrified he’d hurt you.
months later, he asked if it’s alright to try again. the kissing thing, you know? it was months after the previous attempt, you and Simon had already reconciled, as much as possible anyways, so the question left you a little confused. you were happy to, but only if he was really ready. and he said he was, he swore it. although.. looking at you, thinking back about the previous attempt, made him anxious. but he already said he would. so he should? he should stick to his words, right? youd probably think hes a coward. god, a man shouldnt be a coward. and he cant be a coward. and all these thoughts ran through his mind. he doesnt realize he’s zoned out and that you’re staring at him with a concerned look on your face. its not until you decide to speak does he snap back.
“are you sure you want to do this?”
he’s not even sure what to respond. what did he want?  he’s only really thought about what you wanted. it’s not like his wants really mattered in his eyes.
“you know, we don’t have to do this. we can still have a perfectly fine relationship without–”
“no! absolutely, no, we.. we have to kiss.”
he insisted, almost yelling like he’s afraid he wouldn’t be heard. and that you’d leave him because you’d think he couldn’t kiss you, because he couldn't give you of a normal relationship. and you deserved it. you deserved a normal relationship with someone who could give you what you wanted. and god, he wishes he were normal.
anyone could tell he was agitated. honestly, it isn’t easy for you. you could tell he wouldn’t handle it well if you kissed him directly. but if you didn’t then he’d isolate himself, thoughts spiralling like a roller coaster in his mind, and you couldn’t be sure when or where the ride ended. so, grab his hands, hold them in yours, and plant a gentle kiss on each. you hold his hands, looking into his eyes, and for what felt like hours, the two of you stayed put like that. until Simon told you to leave.
it caught you off guard, you’re a little taken back. but respecting his wishes, you leave the room. not even a minute after you leave, Simon slumps against the wall, he can’t stop the hot, burning tears from falling. maybe it was how soft your lips felt against his caloused hands or how careful you were with him, how you knew that he likely wouldn’t react well to either choice and yet you made the perfect one.
Simon Riley who sometimes holds your hand, silently hoping you’d kiss his hand again. he likes it when you give each knuckle a peck. if you bent down on one knee, you’d look like a knight kissing the princess’ hand, and Johnny would say this whenever he saw the chance. Simon Riley who still isn’t ready to kiss you directly, but he’s slowly working on it. Simon Riley who will probably learn to like different types of kisses, but right now, he's smitten over you and your hand kisses that make him feel oh so loved.
next time he holds your hand, give him a kiss, will you?
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kiame-sama · 5 months
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Hello! I love your “28 years” series in your blog! Is it alright for me to ask for head cannons about the reader’s reaction when she found out about what happened to Killua?(Like Illumi making him fail the hunter exam, and being in isolation) Thank you! (/^▽^)/
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- She knows Silva does torture training with the kids, but she is furious and appalled to know her son was put in isolation and needlessly whipped. That is not torture training, that is flat out pointless abuse. (She thinks torture training is abuse as well, but this crossed beyond every other line too). Of course, she only learns all of this after Killua leaves with Gon, and boy howdy is there zero rest for anyone.
- It starts with her refusing to play videogames with Milluki- as they can often play games remotely together- because of Milluki's behavior towards Killua while he was in isolation. The fact his mother refuses to play videogames with him actually bothers him and he knows no amount of demanding or pleading with his father will help him. Silva already doesn't like the fact that she can play games remotely yet still multiplay with Milluki, so he sure as hell isn't going to make his darling wife continue playing games with Milluki if she doesn't want to.
- Illumi is next on the chopping block and when I say he cannot handle his mother yelling at him, I mean it. Illumi adores his mother and will do anything for her, so when she raises her voice at him for intentionally making Killua fail, he is going to react as if his world is falling apart. The last thing Illumi wants is to upset his mother, so her harsh words and anger with him will burn like a branding iron would to someone without torture training.
- The only person who could ever make both Illumi and Milluki apologize to Killua, it is their mother. Silva avoids blame in this regard because he didn't tell Milluki or Illumi to act against Killua, and he is thrilled that his wife is angry with the two attention-stealing offspring because it means more focus is on him. He is already receiving extra affection because he let her say goodbye to Killua and talk to Gon. The added fact that she is angry with her sons just makes it even sweeter to Silva.
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buckyalpine · 1 year
Note
always you’s angst only ending … feed us a tiny lil drabble of maybe bucky not stopping until he and bruce and maybe even shuri (cause bby’s the smartest) find a way to bring her back?
like he enters the portal, scoops up her body, and kisses her back to life. then throws her over his shoulder, locks her in his bedroom, and makes love to her for like a week straight.
“she’s barely been back for a month- AND SHE’S ALREADY PREGNANT?!”
- ur local angst slut who’s actually hella sensitive and cannot handle this shit, gossip girl 💋
Always you angst alternative ending 
18+
Okay YES, if your a pure angst fiend, you may ignore this but I'm here to mend hearts from the sadness that was this fic.
Warnings: Angst, FLUFFFFFFF, Smuuuttttt, happy ending 
5 years later
Bucky refused to accept you being gone. He tried to heal, going to therapy, grief counselling, medication, writing letters, everything under the fucking sun to help him come to terms with the fact that he’d never see you again. 
It was impossible.
It ate him alive.
He was physically stronger, pouring all his time into the gym to find a way to numb the pain but he was more mentally fucked than ever.
It had been 5 years, nearly 6 and the raw pain he felt was still fresh. Every night, he'd wake up searching for you. He couldn't let go, holding onto the pieces you had left behind. He wrote to you as often as he could, keeping a locked diary of things he wanted to tell you, letters he knew no one would see but what else could he do when he wanted to talk to you so badly but you weren’t there. 
That didn’t stop him from finding a way to pour his heart and soul somewhere. 
_________________________________
Happy Birthday babygirl,  I wish I could wake you up with kisses today, tell you how special the world is with you in it, make you pancakes, feed you in bed because I know you’ll cuddle up in the sheets until noon. Buy you a pretty dress, take you out, maybe even go dancing, even if its just me and you and Steve’s playlist of songs from the 40′s. I’d hold you close to me all night until your feet were sore or until Tony told us to turn the cheesy music off. 
I know he secretly ships us (Peter taught me that word) 
If it were up to Stark, he’d throw you the biggest birthday party ever; that wouldn’t stop me from trying to sneak you away for some more birthday kisses. birthday cuddles. Birthday sex...is a new song Sam introduced me to. 
I wanted to do so much with you today sweet girl. Show you how much I love you on your special day. I should have shown you before it was too late. I regret it every single day. I’d give anything for just another day, just so you’d know. 
It was always you. 
Steve brought you some flowers today, Sam brought some balloons. I hope you see them from wherever you are. It’s not the same without you here angel.
We miss you baby. 
I miss you. 
Till we meet again,  JBB 
_________________________________
Hi Baby, I know it’s not a special occasion, I have no real reason to write today. I missed you though. I wanted to tell you about how I jumped out of a plane today and all I could think of is how much you would have laughed because I didn’t use a parachute. You’re laugh is the sweetest sound in the world and I’d give anything to hear it just one more time.
Sam recorded it all, you would have been the first person he showed the footage to. I’d probably ignore you both and then you’d probably tease me about being grumpy and I’d want a kiss to feel better. And a hug. Maybe some cuddles. Please? 
Also you’d be proud of me today, Red Wing broke and it wasn’t my fault. Promise. I even apologized to Sam after but he doesn’t think I’m being sincere. And I’m not because red wing is a little shit. So is Sam. 
I miss you sweets. I wish you were here. It hurts. Everything hurts. 
I hope we meet again. I’ll never let you go. 
Yours, JBB
_________________________________
My y/n,
I’m sorry. I should have told you. I regret it everyday. I’ll never stop trying to find a way to get you back. 
I love you,
JBB
_________________________________
It’s been almost 6 years. It still hurts.
Till we meet again, JBB
_________________________________
I can’t anymore. I need you back. 
JBB
_________________________________
There were some days where Bucky was able to focus, writing as much as he could, spilling all of his feelings onto the paper, a tiny part of him hoping that one day he’d be able to give you all his letters so you’d know you were all he could think of. 
Then there were the days where sobs tore through his body, his breathing labored, only managing to scribble three words before crumbling into a dark abyss. Bucky wracked his brain every single day; if you were able to go back once, there had to be a way to get you back again. Bruce and Tony had spent countless hours in the lab trying to find a way to reopen the portal but nothing led to you. 
*****
Bucky stared at his burner, pressing call and ending it before it could go through multiple times before finally letting it ring. There was only one other person he could turn to. He knew he wasn’t going to be immediately welcomed back into Wakanda but this wasn’t just about him. Everyone wanted you back. Nothing was the same without you there. If there was a 1% chance to get you back, he had to try. His chest felt tight as the jet landed in a secluded area having arranged a private meeting with Shuri, the one person he trusted with his life. 
"I-I have a favor to ask" Bucky's eyes were already pleading with her, his heart racing as he approached her, ready to fall on his knees. 
"Anything Sergeant Barnes" Shuri smiled, sensing he was there for something urgent, nodding for him to continue. There was zero hesitation as she immediately agreed to come back with him to try and get you back, bringing her own lab equipment with her so she could work with Bruce. After filtering through a number of timelines and timestamps, she’d managed to pinpoint the portal to find you but it wasn’t without its consequences. 
“You understand you may not return” Shuri whispered as Bucky threw on his tactical gear, insisting on getting you all on his own while rest of the team watched in pin drop silence, reluctantly letting him go alone “And y/n...we can get her back but there's a chance she may not...” 
She squeezed his hand before he stepped onto the platform, not wanting to finish the sentence but he already understood. He knew it was possible he’d find you again but it didn’t mean he’d find you alive. 
“Then at least I get to say goodbye” He gave her a strained smile; he had to bring you home one way or another. If this was how he had to go, he would run happily to his death; he’d be at peace knowing he died trying to find you. With the push of a button, he was instantly thrown into a warp, transported to where you had last been with Nat. Everything came to a halt as he found himself at an abandoned hydra base, the cold nipping his skin. Bucky blinked, his vision focusing on the fuzzy figure laying on the ground, his feet moving before he could process anything. 
There was no one else around. 
It was you. 
His doll. 
His y/n.
He sprinted to you, tears clouding his vision as he approached you, dropping to his knees, both fear and hope fighting for dominance. He found you. You were there. But would he ever actually get you back? Were you even breathing? 
“Y/n?” Bucky cradled you to him, scooping you in his arms and chasing the portal that had already began to close. He held your face to his neck, his metal hand protecting your head, holding you securely against his body as you both fleshed back to the present. 
The team gasped as he appeared on the platform again with you safely tucked in his arms. They didn’t dare move, everyone holding their breaths while Bucky laid you down with you still in his arms, his hand softly stroking your cheek. 
“Y/n? Doll?” His heart was beating erratically, your skin was warm, a glimmer of hope burning stronger as he gently shook you, pressing his cool metal hand against your face. “Please” 
“C’mon doll, come back to me baby, I have so much I need to tell you” He pleaded, his warm breath fanning against your face, tears brimming his eyes. Tony and Steve itched to whisk you off to the medbay while Sam silently shook his head, wanting to give Bucky an extra minute, hoping you’d be able to wake up in the super soldiers arms where you belonged. 
“Baby, wake up sweets” Bucky couldn't help himself, pressing his lips softly to your forehead, trailing feather light kisses down your face while cuddling you. “C’mon I l-love you” His voice cracked, his lips finally pressing against yours. They were still soft, warm, you had to wake up, you had to-
Your lips stirred, your eyes cracking open, taking your first breath as your eyes focused on Bucky. 
“Sweetheart?” Bucky's eyes grew wide, unsure if he was dreaming or not, scrambling to hug you closer, cupping your face gently.  
“Bucky?” Your voice was a raspy whisper, leaning into his touch, feeling his tears fall onto your skin as he pulled you into his chest. 
“My doll” He let out a soft sob, cradling your head as you buried your face into his neck, moved to cling onto him, the last thing you remembered was darkness and now you were in his arms again surrounded by his warmth, his scent. Everyone stayed rooted in place, tears falling freely, dying to grab you, hug you, hold you again but they were not about to separate the two of you, not after how badly Bucky had yearned to get you back. 
“Bucky” You wept, your mind still piecing together how you were back but it didn’t matter, not when he was holding you again. 
“Hi baby” He whispered against your hair, wiping your tears with his thumb, cupping your face, kissing you all over before capturing your lips again, relishing in your touch, feeling your fingers card through his short locks. You lost yourselves in each other, the rest of the world no longer existing. 
“Okay white wolf, When do we get to say hi to our girl” Sam snorted, sniffling seeing you tucked in Bucky’s arms, the brunettes lips curved into a smile for the first time since you’d been gone. Bucky loosened his hold around you, helping you to your feet, giving you one more kiss before letting go. 
“Come here” Steve scooped you up immediately after, struggling not to squeeze you tight, “We missed you sweet heart, so much”
“Hasn’t been the same without you” Sam gave you a once over, determining you were well enough for a slightly bone crushing hug before having you grabbed away by Tony. Tony wasn’t able to say much, biting his bottom lip to keep it from trembling, hugging you the longest, reluctant to let you go. You were engulfed in Nat’s arms as she wept, squeezing you like her life depended on it. 
“You saved me” She whispered in your hair, her tears falling onto your skin, “Don’t ever do that again” She hissed sternly, grabbing your face to look at her, “Don’t ever ever do something like that again” 
“Give me my baby back” Bucky grabbed you, tossing you over his shoulder as soon as everyone had gotten their hugs and kisses, not interested in giving anyone a second longer when he needed you so badly. You squealed, giggling as he carried you straight down the hall towards his room without glancing back. As soon as he locked the door, his hands were all over you, holding you tightly to him. 
“Your baby?” You shyly whispered as he rested his forehead against yours, nodding and chasing your lips. 
“M’never letting you go again doll, never” He trailed kisses down your neck while unbuckling the straps of your gear letting it drop to the floor. “I want to love you, I want to hold you, I want to make love to you, I want it all with you” 
Bucky tore your clothes off, hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you over to the bathroom, turning the hot water on, hot water pouring over both if you. The steam made you woozy, your body turning into jelly under his touch as he massaged your muscles with delicate touches, his lips ghosting over every bruise and scar that had marked your skin. You let out a needy whimper, staying close to him, your butterflies erupting in your tummy every time he touched you. 
“Bucky please”
“I want to love you so badly baby, love you the way you deserve” Bucky willed himself not to take you right there, focused on rinsing off and grabbing a towel, carrying you over to his bed. He tossed to towel off, climbing on top of you, neither of you having the patience for a slow build or teasing. Your belly clenched feeling his hard length rut and rub against your bare cunt, your slick coating his cock. 
“I need you” He rasped while you whined, wrapping your legs around him, bucking your hips up. “You have no idea baby, God I need you” His eyes were pleading with you, his cock starting to leak feeling your arousal. 
“Wanna feel you Bucky” You spread your legs for him, your breath hitching feeling the tip of his cock rub through your folds before pressing into your entrance. 
“Gonna make love to you so good sweet girl” Bucky whispered as he started to push his cock in, his heart beating faster, cock growing harder feeling your heat pull him in deeper. He groaned, letting his body weight fall onto you as he started to thrust, pleasure consuming both of you immediately. 
“JAmessss” Your gasp melted into a moan, your head pressed against his pillow as he filled you, stretching you open, letting you feel every ridge and vein of his cock. “Stretching me to so good Buckyyy” 
“Yeah? You feel so good wrapped around me baby” He rasped, his orgasm already creeping down his spine as he pressed sloppy kisses all over your face, overwhelmed with emotion and the feeling of you under him. Your moans made him twitch, nearly growling when he felt your nails dig into his skin as he kissed your cervix with each roll of his hips. 
“I missed you so much baby, didn’t know what to do with myself, I-I couldn’t breathe without you, couldn’t live-” Bucky could feel tears brimming his eyes, struggling to keep them away, “Fuck I missed you so much, I felt like I was drowning every single day” 
You sniffled over his words, your heart connected with his, squeezing your thighs around his waist, desperate to keep every inch of his body pressed with yours. 
“It-it was always you” He kissed your forehead, as he kept you caged under him, moaning against your skin.
“I love you” you cupped his cheeks, brushing his tears away, his nose lightly bumping against yours. You pulled him down for a sweet kiss, only pulling away for air. All of it was so much all at once, the quietest cries and softest kisses, feeling every inch of each other, making up for lost time. Bucky pulled the covers over you both, wrapping you in a cocoon of warmth, hiding you from the rest of the world, savoring this moment with just the two of you, his sweet girl back in his arms again. 
He let his arms roam across your body, stroking your waist, your thighs, gently cupping your breasts, softly suckling your nipples, his body trembling as he tried to hold his climax off and make this moment last forever. 
“M’gonna marry you, you know that?” His hands came to lace with yours, pinning you against the bed, eyes locked with yours. His pace didn’t falter, thrusting into you, loving the way your pussy fluttered around his cock, rolling his hips so he could push into you deeper. “W-will you? Will you marry me babygirl” 
He knew you had just come back but he wanted nothing more, unable to stop the words from slipping out. You let your own tears fall down your cheeks, pulling him impossibly closer. 
“Yes” You whimpered, sniffling back sobs as he stroked your head, smiling against your lips. 
“Gonna make you my wife baby, marry you and take care of you until my last breath” He started to fuck you faster, panting, the muscles in his body tensing. 
“Tell me more Bucky, please?” You whined, your heart aching for more, everything you’d always wanted with the one person you’d always been in love with. 
“Oh baby, M’gonna get you pregnant sweet girl, have a family with you, everything with you, take care of your swollen belly, make love to you even when you’re full of me, show you how much I adore you princess” You gasped as he braced himself, his grunts growing louder, his body heat radiating off him, unable to stop the pleasure that was growing. 
“Tell me your mine baby” He whined, wrapping his arms around you while you threw your head back, your eyes rolling back at the feel of his pubic bone rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves with each thrust. 
“I’m yours Bucky” 
“Fuck don’t stop y/n, please, I need it” His voice was needy, desperately clinging onto your body, craving to hear nothing else. “Say it again doll”
“I’m yours Bucky, all yours soldier” You moaned louder, your legs shaking around him “I’m gonna cum” 
“Cum with me baby, same time, please” 
“BuckyBuckyBucky- You cried our, your walls staring to flutter, ready to fall off the edge with hi. 
“M’right here, I got you, togther, c’mon, cum with me princess” Bucky rolled his hips, pounding you into the mattress, biting down onto your neck as he felt your nails scratch down his back while white hot pleasure tore through you, your pussy milking his cock. 
“FUCK JAMES” Your body trembled as he fucked you through your high, burying his face into your neck, his lips brushing by your ear. 
“YES, Yes baby, my good girl, my sweet girl, s’perfect for me, yes, I’m gonna give you my cum, get you pregnant, have a baby with you, take care of you, love you, all of it with you baby, fuck- I LOVE YOU- UGGHHH- 
Bucky collapse on you, filling you with his cum until the bed was damp, his body jolting from sensitivity each time you fluttered around him while kissing his temple. He hardly moved, a steady stream of cum still pouring into you, staying connected to you the entire night, cuddling you next to him. 
“I finally have my baby back, my sweet sweet baby, she’s back” 
It has been nearly a week since you were back but you hadn’t left Bucky’s room once. You only took a few moments to eat and sleep, the rest of the time wrapped up in each other, connected in the most intimate way possible, while whispering sweet nothings, 
It was everything Bucky needed. Emotional. Warm. Soft. Loving. 
He couldn’t help the tears every time he was inside you, he finally had you back, wrapping his arms around you every time you made love, making sure you knew exactly how much he had always adored you. As much as he wanted to take you apart in every way imaginable, he couldn’t help but slip into missionary every single time, wanting to see your pretty face, feel your body, have your legs wrap around him as he came inside you. 
*****
You threw on your coat while Bucky slipped his arm around your waist while you both made your way down, passing through the living room on our way out. 
“Damn future Mrs. Barnes” Sam whistled, along with the rest of the team, everyone gathered for a night for a movie. “Where you off to?” 
“The three of us are going out for dinner” Bucky smiled with a child like grin, snickering to himself while the team looked at you with confusion. 
“Three?” Steve cocked his head, noting the way you shied into Bucky’s chest, giggling while he kissed your head, his hand slipping down to brush over your belly. “THREE?”
Steve’s eyes grew wide as he shot out of his seat, pointing at your tummy. “THREE” He whipped his head to Tony, Nat, Sam and Clint who slowly connected the dots. “THREE” 
“For fucks sake, it hasn’t even been a month Barnes” Tony snorted, while everyone pilled onto you both, a large mess of hugs and tears. 
“You didn’t waste any time, huh” Sam wiggling his eyebrows while Bucky wrapped his arms around you, his hands splayed on your tummy. 
“Never again” He whispered, tilting your chin to kiss you deeply, “Never ever again” 
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cupids-chamber · 1 year
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Since request are open how do you think the octatrio would handle trying to court someone who works at the Mostro Lounge and has a "i don't date people i work with" policy
GENDER NEUTRAL READER A/N: First thought "IM YOUR BOSS"-azul "EXACTLY"- yuu, anyways sorry for the short length, it's a crackfic basically.
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AZUL ASHENGROTTO, Well isn’t this fun.. and slightly ironic? Azul had the same mindset as you.. and yet poor Azul fell for someone that upheld his same mindset, it was odd and he couldn’t help but grow upset when you’d reject his attempts at courtship.. But knowing Azul he’ll try his very best to make a deal you could not refuse, after all he needs to reek the benefits.. (Benefits = your love, that is) 
JADE LEECH, he agrees with your mindset, and understands your reasons and why it is a good idea to not entangle your love life with your work life. HOWEVER, this six feet eel has fallen for you, and that fact cannot be changed, and as such Jade plans on pursuing you, and he plans on getting his ends worth, in such a scenario. 
FLOYD LEECH, Floyd can and will not give 3 shits about your mindset, he can and will court you.. and strike you with a sad eel face if you even bother rejecting him.. Which is a complete no go at this point, he wants your attention.. And he will receive it. He wants something? He will try his very best to gain it.. And after some convincing.. He’ll take you out on a date! 
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