#gloing pains

[fullplate]

need me a haunted mound junkie pal

[akwardlyuncool]

Class Favorites: Rooting For “Everybody” Black! Year 4

Bringing it back for the 4th year, we got a mini playlist featuring all the Black artists/bands that made it to the full end of the year list. Like always this is just a sampler plate, take what I offer you and use it to go get more. Join the vibe movement, cause there's something for everyone!

Disclaimer: We rooting for Blu Ivy here, cause Yoncé on some quiet ish and she needs to do better with the kind of platform she got and Blu is just a kid. Also yes there are couple repeats from last year because I was going through it in 2023 and was playing the same stuff and honestly anything that just felt safe, over and over again. Sorry not sorry.

_________________________________________________________________________

This year includes the songs you'll see in the official 2023 playlist, as well as a new-to-me song by the artist or band that I want to get into in 2024. (Also not in any specific order other than artist next to artist.)

31 - Soul Glo

32 - Soul Glo

Buckle Bunny - Tanner Adell

I Hate Texas - Tanner Adell

Roll The Dice - Fluorescents

Sober Lullabies - Fluorescents

Brown Skin Girl - Blue Ivy, SAINt JHN, Beyoncé & Wizkid

My Power - Nija, Beyoncé, Busiswa, Yemi Alade, Tierra Whack, Moonchild Sanelly and DJ Lag

Stupidfreak (Audiotree Live Version) - Juice

Heartbreak In A Box - Juice

What's The Move ft T-Pain - Watsky

A Change Is Gone Come (Cover) - T-Pain

Snake Eyes - Disperser CA

None Taken - Disperser CA

Anxiety - Meg Thee Stallion

Cobra (Rock Remix) ft. Spiritbox - Meg Thee Stallion

Spotify Link

[awesomepaste]

“We just want you to focus on getting better”

But the thing is, there is no better. That’s the thing with chronic illness, ain’t it?

[coye]

Those "TikTok girls" you're constantly drooling over and saying things like "I looked at myself and sighed" about? They're just average-looking girls, plain and simple. It's all the filters, makeup, hair, gym routines, surgery, confidence, and styling that makes them so attractive. And you know what that means? It means you're average looking too, and you can achieve that same level of appearance if you just put in the effort. So stop putting down your own looks in comparison. We're all just a bunch of average looking people using the same damn techniques to try and look our best.

I'm sick of this mentality where people act like these social media stars are these unattainable goddesses that mere mortals like us could never measure up to. They're regular people, same as us, who've learned how to work the system. And you can do it too, if you really want to. It's all about having the right mindset. Instead of feeling sorry for yourself, embrace the fact that you're mid average and use that as motivation to level up your game. Put in the time and effort to find the right hairstyle, makeup, clothes, and confidence. Because at the end of the day, we're all playing by the same rules here. So stop putting these TikTok girls on a pedestal, and stop being hard on yourself. You've got just as much potential to look and feel your best. It's just a matter of putting in the work.

[ladywhistlewrites]

Hiiiiiii can I request a wife x Anthony bridgerton story where they are newly married and back from their honeymoon so Anthony works a lot where reader nearly never sees him so when she goes to talk to him he snaps at her and takes his stress out on her and reader gives him the silent treatment until she feels like it’s enough. Pls make him work for her forgiveness 😭😭😭😭😭

hii thanks for sending an ask!!🩷 hope you like it :))

Anthony Bridgerton x wife! reader

***

The morning sun casts a golden glow through the windows of your shared home, a beacon of warmth and new beginnings. You and Anthony have just returned from your honeymoon, the memories and whispered promises still fresh in your minds. Every corner of your home feels infused with the love and joy of your new life together, a life that seems to stretch out before you with infinite possibilities.

The first few days are blissful. You and Anthony spend lazy mornings entwined in each other’s arms, sharing laughter over breakfast, and planning your future with excitement. His touch, his voice, everything about him fills you with an overwhelming sense of contentment. You are his, and he is yours.

But as the days turn into weeks, you notice a change. Anthony, ever the diligent worker, begins to spend more time in his study, pouring over documents and attending meetings. At first, you understand. You admire his dedication and are proud of his accomplishments. Yet, gradually, his presence becomes a rarity. He leaves early and returns late, often slipping into bed after you’ve fallen asleep and rising before you awaken.

One evening, after another long day of waiting for him, you decide to confront him. The house is quiet, the only sound the ticking of the clock in the hallway. You find him in his study, hunched over his desk, the dim light casting shadows on his face.

“Anthony,” you call softly, stepping into the room. He doesn’t look up, his attention firmly on the papers before him. You take a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “We need to talk.”

He finally glances up, his expression a mix of exhaustion and impatience. “What is it, my love? I’m very busy.”

The endearment feels hollow, and your heart aches. “I know you’re busy, but I miss you. We barely even spend time together . It feels like you’ve forgotten about me, about us.” you murmur

He sighs, rubbing his temples. “I haven’t forgotten. I’m doing this for us, for our future. Can’t you understand that?” he says with venom in his mouth.

“I understand, but what good is the future if we’re not happy now?” The words tumble out, your voice rising with emotion. “You’re consumed by your work, Anthony. You’re neglecting our marriage.”

His eyes flash with irritation, and before you can react, he snaps. “Just mind your own business, will you? I’m doing what needs to be done.” he spats.

You stand there, stunned and hurt, his harsh words cutting deeper than you’d imagined possible. Without another word, you turn and leave, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the silent house.

In the days that follow, the pain of his outburst lingers. You decide to give him the silent treatment, unable to bear the thought of speaking to him. You avoid him, your interactions reduced to strained silences and cold civility. He tries to reach out, but you turn away, your hurt and pride keeping you at a distance.

Anthony, realizing his mistake, begins to make amends. Each morning, you find fresh flowers on your bedside table, their vibrant colors a stark contrast to the dull ache in your heart. He sends you beautiful gowns, their fine fabrics a reminder of his thoughtfulness. Every day, he apologizes, his voice earnest and filled with regret.

“I’m sorry, my love,” he says repeatedly. “Please forgive me.”

A week passes, and you find yourself missing him more than you can bear. The sight of the flowers, the sound of his apologies, all begin to chip away at your resolve. One evening, as the sun sets and the house is bathed in the soft glow of twilight, you find him in his study once more.“Anthony,” you say quietly. He looks up, hope flickering in his eyes. “I forgive you. But you must promise me, promise me that you will never speak to me like that again.”

He pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he might never let go. “I’ve missed you too, more than you can imagine.”

You stand there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, the world outside fading away. In that moment, you know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, you will face them together, bound by love and the promise of a future filled with happiness.

[aboutchriss]

Bed bugs

Pairing: Idol! Chan x fem! reader

Genre: smut, fluff, maybe crack idk

Warnings: slight choking (just a hand on the neck, nothing more) (f! receiving), dry humping, oral sex (m! receiving), make-out session, cuddles, mention of Chan's room.

Author notes: when I first started writing "Physiotherapy and Coconut Oil" back at the beginning of October, I was convinced to write it as fluff, mainly because I can't write smut; after a couple of weeks, I left it in my drafts, and leave it there till the first two weeks of December, I was under heavy medication bc I had a painful surgery on my foot, and the only thing that helped to go through insomnia caused by the pain was writing that story, I wrote and wrote day and night, and it helped so so much, that's why I was shocked when @ardef38 asked for a pt 2, so here you go love, I hope you like it.

(Kinda proof read, it’s 1:40 am as I’m ’reading’ this so, be patient I’ll correct any mistakes later)

Fun fact: I do really ride motorcycles since I was 17 (and yes I may be reckless).

Word count: +4k (I got carried away I’m sorry)

Thank you so much, I really, really appreciate all the feedback, I love you all.🩷

Sincerely Glo

As always, requests are open!

-✉️

I'm so insecure about my English. As I said, it's not my first language, and I'm always scared to make mistakes or stuff like that. So, if you find mistakes, please let me know. I'll be thankful, and my English will improve!

-✉️

You can read part one here

"Stop moving. I'm trying to sleep."

he mumbles on your back

"I can't, I'm sorry."

You mumble

"Why? What is happening, baby?"

he asks, hugging you tighter

"Uhm, I'm sorry my insomnia is bothering me, I-i don't know why."

"What can I do for you? A cup of tea? cuddles?"

he asks

"I don't know either, honestly, usually I stay in bed and stare at the ceiling."

"It's a common thing?"

he whispers, almost like he doesn't want to be heard by someone

"What? That I can't sleep? Oh yeah, definitely.”

you say, turning yourself towards him

"Mh"

"You should be tired, you know that? after a full day of work and after what we did."

he says

"I know, Channie, but my brain can't shut down."

"I have an idea."

he says, hugging you tighter, your head on his chest with his hand between your hair

"What?"

you ask, looking at him

"Shhhh, just close your eyes and relax, okay?"

"Mh, okay. I doubt that whatever you're about to do, you'll make me fall asleep."

"Shshhh"

close your eyes

go to sleep

know my love is all around

dream in peace

when you wake

you will know I'm still with you

He repeats the verse over and over until you don't hear him anymore.

You know that you fall asleep because of his voice and the lullaby that he was singing, and the way he was stroking your hair gently, but mostly because he's warm; one time, someone said that he's like the feeling of walking in a warm room after spending the whole day out in the cold. It's true he really is like that domestic feeling.

"Good morning, ray of sunshine. How did you sleep?"

he asks you when you walk into your kitchen

"Oh, good morning. I thought you were already gone and good. I don't know which magic you've put in your cuddles and voice, but I haven’t slept like this in months."

you say

"Gone? No, I had to make you breakfast since I've slept over and used your bathroom to shower. I also used your body wash. Now I know why you smell so good."

he says while working on something at the stove

"That's why the bottle is half empty."

you giggle, hugging him from behind

"I'm sorry. I'll rebuy it for you."

he says

"Ya, it's okay, you don't have to. you smell like me now,"

"Yep, and trust me, I love it."

he says

"Yeah?"

"Mhmm"

"Aaah, you're warm, Channie it's freezing today even if it's mid-summer."

you say, hugging him from behind

"It has rained all night, we didn't notice because we were...umh...busy."

he says, turning towards you

"Busy...yeah...Chan, oh my god, it was...did I do these?"

you ask, touching his neck and chest

"No, no, it was a bed bug."

"Ehi -you slap his chest- I-god, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too. we got carried away, didn't we?"

he says, touching your neck and making you shiver

"Definitely, but I'm going to be honest I don't mind it and I don’t regret it.”

you say, smiling and kissing him on his naked chest

"Chan...-you say, sniffing around- something is burning."

"NO THE PANCAKES!"

he quickly turns towards the stove, swearing and mumbling against the burnt cakes

"Fuck, i-i wanted to make you breakfast."

he pouts, looking at the burnt pancakes

"It's okay, Channie -you giggle- thing like this happens when you're distracted."

"So you're saying that is your fault?"

he asks, looking at you, one of his dimples popping out

"Yeah, definitely."

you laugh

"Okay, put something on. I'll buy you breakfast."

"No."

you say

"Yes."

he says

"No."

"Yes."

"I said no."

"And I said yes."

"Channie, you don't have to"

"But I want to"

he says

"But-ugh, what if people see us around."

you say

"You're part of the staff, and we can go to the JYP cafeteria, the one inside the building."

"Mh, okay, but with one condition."

"Which one?"

he asks

a smirk appears on your face

"I don't like that smile."

he says

"I'll take you to the building with my motorcycle."

"You-you can ride?"

he asks

"yeah, I thought you liked it when I did it on your-"

"Shsh, don't-shut up, okay, okay."

he says, covering your mouth with one of his hands

"You're not reckless, aren't you?"

he asks with a worried tone

"Me? Reckless? absolutely not."

you smile

"That smile...I don't trust you."

"Not my business, Channie."

10 minutes later, you are in the elevator, and funny to say, but both of you choose a black hoodie (mostly because you have to cover your hickeys and not to catch a cold since the air is fresher)

"You copied my outfit."

you say, looking at him

"Do it look like I'm wearing Doc Martens and leggings?"

he asks, looking at you

"No, even if you would look good in leggings, but your outfit is total black, just like mine."

"I always dress like this."

“I aLwAyS dReSs LiKe ThIs”

You mock him

“It’s true, my whole wardrobe is black.”

"Yeah, but you still copied my outfit."

you smile, walking outside the elevator, Chan being by your side

"Jagiya.."

he says

"Mh?"

you say, not paying attention to the feeling that you felt in your stomach after that nickname

"I'm scared."

he says, looking at his feet

"About..?"

you say opening your garage door

"I've never been on a motorcycle."

he says shyly

"It's okay, Channie. There is a first time for everything. I'm going to explain everything, okay?"

"You-fuck, you can drive this thing?"

he asks

"Yeah, she's my baby."

"Baby? it's huge, how can you manage to drive this?"

you shrug your shoulders, looking at him

"I just do it, just trust me okay?"

"I do trust you."

he says

"Yeah?"

you ask, looking at him, and he simply nods

"Okay, big boy, put this on."

you say, giving him one of your motorcycle jackets

"I hope it fits; one of my friends gifted it to me, but she took three sizes bigger than mine, and I couldn't return it."

"It's a little bit tight on my shoulders."

he says, closing the zip

"It fits perfectly; you have protections, so it has to be tight."

you say, zipping your protective jacket

"It's weird. I'm not used to tight things."

he says, putting his backpack on his shoulders again

"Now, move, I have to take the motorcycle out of the garage. Can you grab the two helmets there? and when you're out, close the door, please."

you say, pointing at a wood cabinet. You press the clutch and move backward with the motorcycle; when the bike is in the correct position, you press down the stand.

"Okay, give me these."

you say, taking the helmets from his hands

"I'm going to put the helmets on you, okay, and I'll explain everything."

you say, putting the helmet on him. You do the same with yours

"Does it feel loose?"

you ask

"No, it's perfect."

you can see him smiling even if half of his face is covered

"And now -you press the inter-phone button- can you hear me?"

"Oh yeah, it's like you're inside my head."

he giggles

you turn on your bike, leaving her roar

"Damn, it's loud."

he giggles

"Okay, so -you say, straddling the motorcycle pushing the stand up with your foot- use that thing to get on and sit here."

you say, patting on the small sitting place for him

"Are you sure you can-?"

he asks

"Yes, trust me, Chan, I've been riding since I was 17."

you smile at him

he sits behind you, getting more comfortable once the bike is stable

"See? You won't fall; both of my feet are on the ground."

"Keep your feet there when we're on the road, don't put them on the ground at a red light or a stop sign. You have to put your arms around me tight or on the tank, especially when I brake; you'll feel it, so don't worry. When we take a turn, you have to follow me with your body. You're basically my shadow, or even better, my backpack, so follow every movement I make, okay?"

you say

"Yep"

"Now, arms around me."

you say, waiting for his arms

"Hold on tight."

you say before pressing the clutch with your left and putting the first gear with your left foot

"Here we goooo."

you say

"Oh my god, we're moving, ahah wow."

"Hold on tight, Channie."

you say, patting on his hands

"That's-wow, oh my god."

"You want me to go faster?"

you say once you're on the road

"Fuck yes"

he says

and you do as he said. You accelerate and shift gear; the sun has been out for hours, so the road is dry now.

"How does it feel?"

you ask him

"It's like, I don't know how to explain it."

"Freedom?"

you suggest

"Yeah, yes, that's the right word."

he says

"That's why you do it? I mean, that's why you drive?"

you hear his voice through the inter-phone, and you simply nod.

"Can you go faster? I wanna feel free."

he says

"Of course."

you giggle, and you shift once again the gear, the two of you speeding in the streets of Seoul, zig-zagging between the buses, cars, and taxis

"Oh my gooood, too fast, too fast"

he almost screams

"Ahahah, just hold onto me, and you'll be fine, Channie. Trust me."

the grip of his arms around your waist getting tighter

"You're crazy."

he says

"I know"

"And reckless, and oh my god, I want to do this every day."

he says

"I know -you laugh- should I pick you up tomorrow?"

"Oh, I—I'm not that brave. God, you have a big pair of balls to drive a thing like this. I could never."

"Oh, you could, and you would look so hot in one of these, with a compression shirt on-ush what a vision."

you say

"Are you fantasizing about me?"

he asks

"I mean, yeah, you as a biker? damn, Christopher, I would be on my knees."

you say, teasing him

"You were on your knees for me yesterday, and definitely, I'm not a biker."

he says, teasing you back

"I- you- uh- I hate you."

you say

"Yeah, yeah, it was clear with all the 'oh, ah' that you were whimpering against my ear last night."

he says, placing one of his hands on your thighs

"Oh-you-shut up"

you say, glad that he can't see the color of your cheeks

"Here we are person that I absolutely hate, and it's banned from my house."

you say braking and turning off the motorcycle once you're in the proper park

"Oh c'mon, I was joking -he says, taking off his helmet- I'll never mention cute whimpers again."

he pouts

"Shhh, are you crazy talking about this here?"

"Right, 'm sorry, where do I put this?"

he asks, lifting his helmet

"Oh, just bring it with you."

you say

"So...umh, breakfast?"

he asks, breaking the silence between the two of you

"Yeah, breakfast."

you sigh, looking at him, his hair messed up because of the helmet

"Ladies first"

he says, opening the front door of the building for you

"Oh, what a gentleman."

you say, walking toward the elevator, bowing to the person who just stepped out of the elevator

"Yeah, gentleman."

he mumbles, pressing the number three, and once the elevator doors closed, you talk

"What you're mumbling about?"

you look at him

"Nothing"

"Chan, c'mon, you can't do this after what we did."

"I'm -he sighs- I let you go first to look at your ass in those stupid leggings, so I'm not a gentleman."

he crosses his arms

"Oh, well, I'll make sure to put them more often."

you say, shrugging your shoulders

"You're not mad?"

he asks

"that you look at my ass when you can? No. You literally saw me naked, so that's nothing of this -you point at your whole body- that you haven't seen."

"Mh, good to know."

he smirks, and once the lift doors open, he goes

"Ladies first, of course."

he winks at you and you can do nothing but laugh at him.

after a couple of minutes of indecision, his indecision actually, he brings to the table two tall cups of cappuccino and a piece of cake for him

"You sure that you don't want a bite?"

he asks, offering you a piece of pie

"Hundred percent Chan"

you smile at him

"Do you have to work today?"

he asks

"Uhm... no, I don't think so, actually. I'm here just for breakfast—you giggle—why?"

"I have to meet with Han and Binnie for some fixes on a new song and do the usual Sunday live, so...would you mind coming with me?"

"I- you- you want me in your studio?"

"Yes"

"The one where no one is allowed?"

"Mhmm"

he nods, sipping on his cappuccino

"The one where the darker aura Christopher works?"

"Yes, that one."

"Mh, okay, if you... don't mind having me there."

you shrug your shoulders

"I don't mind it. You have a relaxing effect on me."

he says

"Interesting"

you say, sipping on your coffee

"The boys are already there. Should we go?"

"I follow you, mister dark aura."

"Oh, shut up."

he says, looking at you

"Hello everyone"

he says, entering in the studio

"Hi Hyung"

the bandmates say at the same time

"Oh, y/n? Hi, what are you doing here?"

"I-uh, I saw him in the middle of the street, he was like an abandoned puppy."

"Hey"

he says, sitting down in his working chair

"So I offered him a ride on my motorbike, and to pay me back, he offered me breakfast."

you laugh nervously

"You ride a motorcycle?"

changbin asks

"Yes? why does everybody find this weird."

you say

"I don't know, you don't look like someone who rides a motorcycle."

Binnie says

"But I am."

you laugh, sitting on the couch in the studio

The three men start working on the new song. You're not paying too much attention because

1. you're too distracted by the way Chan gets so severe when he's at work, so bossy but at the same time gentle with his members

2. you're working too, on your phone, but you're working, planning all the appointments with the members and the artists of JYP

"Oh, looks like someone had fun last night."

you hear Han's voice, and you're head snaps toward his direction so fast that you hear a crack in your neck

"Yeah, you weren't home last night. Where were you last night, Chan?"

Changbin says

then you notice that Chan took off his hoodie, revealing all the hickeys and bite marks on his neck

"What?"

he asks, looking at them

"Your neck Chan, what the fuck? What did you do?"

Han asks

"Uh, bed bugs."

he says, typing and clicking on his computer, not paying too much attention to them

"Yeah, a big one."

Han says

"One with human teeth"

Changbin laughs

"Oh shut up, the two of you."

Chan says, his cheeks turning pink

"Who is she?"

asks the two gossipy men

"No one, it was a bed bug."

he says once again

"Do you know anything about this?"

Changbin asks, and both of them turn toward you

"Uh, bed bugs are big these days."

you shrug your shoulders

"Mh, yeah."

they look at each other with a smirk

after a couple of minutes, they stopped asking about his marks and focused again on their work, recording some chorus, laughing when someone went out of tune, and listening over and over again at the song till it was perfect

"Aaaaand we're done."

Chan says, stretching up his arms in the air and clapping at the work of 3racha

"Aaaagh, I'm hungry."

Changbin says

"Me too."

Han says

"Hyung, y/n wanna join us for lunch?"

"Oh no, I must go now, maybe next time."

you smile at them

"I have to do the live so."

chan says

"Oh, okay."

they say

"Bye Hyung, Y/N see you on Tuesday."

Han says

"Bye guys, see you."

you smile

"Hyung, see you at the dorm and make sure to eat, or you get nervous, little bed bug…See you on Tuesday."

Binnie says, smiling at you and closing the door behind his back

"HOW THE FUCK DID HE?"

you say, covering your face with your hands

"He's not stupid."

Chan says

"But don't worry, they won't spill anything to anyone, that's for sure."

he gets up from his chair, locks the door of the studio, and walks toward you

"Ugh, are you sure?"

you ask, your voice muffled by your hands

"Yes, I trust them with my whole life. They're nosy, I know, but we have a rule: what happens or what we say in the studio stays in the studio."

He says, sitting next to you.

"Are you sure? I- I loved hat we did, and I love our bond, but I don't want to lose my job, Chan, I've worked so hard to be here, and I don't want to ruin everything because I had sex with you."

you say, looking at him

"Ouch"

he says

"No, no, I don't want you to think that I'm using you because I'm not okay? I loved our friendship way before what happened last night."

"I get what you're saying, y/n, don't worry, it's just that you're...I don't know…after what we did, I don't know what are we? friends? Best friends? friends with benefits?"

he looks at you

"Friends with..."

"Benefits, you know, two friends that have sex occasionally but remain friends."

"Yeah, Chan, I know what friends with benefits are."

"So?"

"What?"

you ask

"Friends with benefits? it will be our dirty little secret."

he says

"Mh, friends with benefits"

you nod

"Let's start this thing from now, yeah?"

he says, pulling your face towards him

"Yes, fuck yes."

you say, breaking the distance between the two of you, kissing his plumped lips again

"The door is locked, and we have about thirty minutes."

he says between the kisses

"Ugh, not enough time."

you say, pulling back from him

"We can go back to my place after the live, yeah?"

he nods, kissing your lips again, more roughly this time. You shift your position, straddling him, your legs on the side of his thighs

"It's not-that simple to- touch you with these stupid- mhpf yoga pants."

he says, kissing your lips

"You said that you loved them."

you say

"Yeah, and now I hate them; I can't touch you properly, which frustrates me."

He says, pulling you closer to him. You can feel his bulge against your clit

"It's okay, we don't need to take our pants off."

you say, smiling at him

"What- why? c'mon, I wanna see that pretty pussy of yours."

he says, frustrated, leaving his head against the headrest of the couch

"Mh, not now."

you say, starting to grind on his hard bulge

"Oh shit, what- do it again, please,"

he says, placing his hands on your hips, guiding you back and forth against him. You kiss gently his neck, trying not to bite him or suck his soft skin because his neck is already a mess.

"You- god"

he tries to say, one of his hands traveling around your body, grabbing one of your breasts under the hoodie

"Uh? you're not wearing a bra?"

he says

"Nope, free the nipples, Christopher."

You laugh while looking at him, poor guy, he looks desperate

"Fuck, full access all this time? Why didn’t you tell me? God, y/n, you're going to drive me crazy."

he says, kissing your lips. You laugh in his lips and keep grinding on his hard cock

"Please take your hoodie off, I want- at least I want to see your boobs."

"Uhm, so needy, aren't you?"

you ask, and he simply nods

you take off your hoodie, shivering, not because you're cold, no it's way too hot in the room, but because of the way that he looks at you; it looks like he wants you to eat you alive, literally. He licks his lips, looking at your boobs at then looking at your face, his eyes jumping between your two twins and your eyes

"What?"

you ask, looking at him, moving a clump of hair from his face

"I want to suck them."

he simply says

"Then do it. Don't be shy, Christopher."

"Oh, don't call me like that."

he says, looking at you, his eyes darkened

"I know that you like it, just admitted."

you whisper to his ear

"Mphf, if you don't stop grinding on me, I'll cum in my pants."

he says

"And? there's no shame in cumming in your pants, I love to see you so desp-shit"

you say, trying to find any other word to say, but your brain is short-circuiting, his tongue is moving around one of your breasts, sucking on the nipple, while with one hand, he pays attention to the other one

"I wanna live here."

he says, sucking and biting your nipple

"Mhpf, in the studio?"

you tease him even if you know what he meant

"Mh -he breaks off the contact between his mouth and your breast- between your boobs, I want to live here, they're-fuck, they're like a warm marshmallows."

you laugh

"I'm dead serious, y/n"

he looks at you so seriously that you have to cover your mouth not to laugh. You kiss his lips, making him smile

"You're going to be late, so let me do something for you, yeah?"

you say, shifting position and getting on your knees in front of him

"Oh fuck"

he says, pulling his pants down, revealing his hard dick

"You're going to drive me crazy, you know that?"

he says, caressing your face

"That's the point, Christopher."

you say, kissing one of his naked thighs

"Please, jagiya, please."

he says in a desperate tone. That nickname again, heavy like a rock on your chest, just friends with benefits, correct?

So you do what a good friend would do, you take his boner with your hands, stroking him up and down a couple of times, licking the tip, focusing on that particular sensitive part, making him whimper.

You take all of him in your mouth, breathing through your nose; you look up at him, his head on the headrest, his eyes closed, enjoying every moment, one of his hands in your hair, scratching your scalp gently.

You keep working with your mouth and tongue, adding once again your dominant hand, just because you can't take all of him in your mouth.

"Jagi...fuck."

"Uh, language, please."

you say, taking him out of your mouth without stopping working with your hand.

"How am I supposed not to say bad words when you're on your knees sucking me off?"

he asks, looking down at you

"You're dramatic."

you say, retaking him in your mouth, you know that he's about to cum because he's throbbing in your mouth

"Baby, i'm-i'm about to."

he can't even finish the sentence that a load of fluid goes into your mouth, you swallow it all the way.

You clean the corner of your mouth with your fingers and stay on your knees, looking up at him with a stupid smile on your face.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

He says, pulling his pants up

“I’m not looking at you in any particular way.”

“Yes, you are, come here.”

He says, patting the place next to him

“Thank you”

He says when you sit next to him

“You don’t have to thank me, Channie.”

“I have to, I told you that you have a relaxing effect on me. And I’m talking generally, not when we...do other stuff, you know, even when we do them, but..."

“I get what you’re saying, Channie.”

You giggle

“Aagh, come here.”

He says, placing a hand on your neck and pulling towards him

“No, wait, I’ve just…”

“I don’t care, y/n, just kiss me, please.”

You sigh, and you kiss his lips, it’s a quick kiss, almost as if you did it every day

“You’re going to be late.”

You say, touching his forehead with yours

“I know, but I have to do it, it’s a safe space for me, and stays.”

“I know”

You say, pecking his lips once again

“I’m in my studio, I wait for you there, okay?”

You say, putting your hoodie on

“Mh, okay, thank you y/n, really.”

He says, kissing your cheek

“That’s what a good friend would do.”

You smile at him

“Yeah, good friend.”

He echos you

“Bye, bed bug.”

He says when you unlock the door

“Bye, Channie -you giggle at the nickname- don’t forget to put your hoodie on.”

“I won’t, thank you.”

He says, smiling, dimples on full display

Good friends, right?

A friend that has marked you all over your body

A friend you would go to live with just to have breakfast ready every morning

A friend that makes you feel butterflies,

A friend that fucks you till your brain short-circuit

A friend who makes you fall asleep while singing and cuddling

Maybe he’s more than “A friend”

A/N: me after writing this 🏃🏻‍♀️💨

Tag list: @paboswriting (because of the mention of biker Chan, we have an obsession about him)

[rafesaddiction]

With a firm hand – Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: You've been a brat and Rafe teaches you a lesson.

Warnings: mdni! – smut, manhandling, spanking, fingering, dubcon, oral (Rafe receiving), rough sex, sorta daddy kink, mean!rafe, dom!rafe

Word count: 2.3k

You've been a brat and you know it. No need to give him that look. And those pouty lips won't do you any good either.

“Come here,” he says, his voice firm.

You hesitate, bite your lips. You stand there, wearing his hoodie, skimming your ass, and only your panties underneath. Your hands fidgeting with the hoodie's hem, as if you're trying to hide something from him, while you're pressing your legs together. You can't hide anything from him.

“Don't make me repeat myself.” Rafe sits on the edge of the bed, wearing a white collared shirt and dark pants. He slowly rolls up his sleeves and your eyes are drawn to his muscular forearms and the veins on them.

“But I said I'm sorry. That should count for something, right?” You can't help it, the words just come out though you know you should regret them. You press your lips together, but you cannot help that cocky little smile, you cannot help yourself.

But Rafe has enough of your teasing and your disobeying.

He gets up, you mutter a curse, try to walk backwards, but he his quicker than you. He grabs you and drags you back to the bed. You try to free yourself, but his grip is so firm, his hands on you are so strong, all your little struggling and protests are futile and he just puts you over his knee, face down, as he sits down on the bed himself. And he holds you down. Holds you in positions, just like he wants to have you. The oversized hoodie is shoved up your back by his large hand. You feel the touch of his rough fingers on your skin and shiver. A big hand is placed on your ass and you flinch and make the most embarrassing sound.

He chuckles. A low dark chuckle.

You try and crane your head to look at him, try to lift your body up, but he presses it down again and you exhale in exasperation.

“You gonna behave now?” He asks and you bite your tongue to not talk back, but can't help scoffing.

His hand slowly caresses over your butt, still clothed, but you can feel that touch so intensely, it makes you shiver. Goosebumps crawling over your skin.

His fingers tuck under the waistband at your back, touch your bare skin. You try and wriggle, still wanting to escape, but his other arm pushes you down again.

You tense up as you can feel how he slowly pulls down your underwear, the back of his fingers ever so lightly brushing your bare ass in that movement.

You feel the cool air on your naked skin, but those goosebumps aren't from being cold.

Then you feel nothing. You close your eyes, expecting the worst, but nothing happens.

You hear him hum above you. Again, you try to look up, but he holds you in place.

Nothing happens for a while. You feel your head's getting dizzy from being upside down, your legs are heavy and you feel a little tingling between your legs. You press them together, as tight as you can in your exposed and helpless position.

Nothing happens and you wonder if maybe Rafe has made up his mind, maybe he won't do it after all, maybe he will just let you go. – Would you really want that?

You don't have time to wonder about that, as his hand comes down on your ass and his palm leaves a stinging pain, shooting through your body.

You can't help but cry out, mostly in surprise. And your body convulses, but Rafe just holds you firmer, and another slap lands on your butt cheek.

You press your lips tightly together, try not to make a sound. You don't want to give him that satisfaction – which of course is stupid, he can clearly see how your body reacts. But you try to keep quiet, so only your little whimpers can be heard, his breathing, and the hard slapping of his palm on your naked ass.

He doesn't make you count, so you have no idea when he will stop.

Just one quick smack after the other. Your skin is glowing. You're panting.

When he hits your ass again, especially hard, you don't just feel that piercing pain on your skin, you can feel it crawling between your legs. Another kind of aching. You ache to be touched there. By him.

But you won't tell him that.

But you're unable to keep quiet any longer. You can't help and whimper and whine, when his palm hits so hard, you're sure it will leave marks for days.

You taste something salty in your mouth and realize that you have started crying.

“Please,” you whine.

“Please what?” His tone his harsh and mocking. His hand hits harder. You moan in pain.

“Please –” you try again, but can't say another syllable as his hand starts kneading your ass cheeks, grabbing and kneading your sore flesh.

Your breathing hitches, then you start panting.

“Now what's this?”

You freeze as his fingers dig between your legs.

“Looks like you like this.”

Rough fingers explore your sensitive parts and you make the most embarrassing sounds.

“No, I don't”, you say and you feel your already flushed face is even turning redder, which Rafe luckily can't see.

Involuntarily you moan and your legs start shaking as he roughly plays with your tender spot.

But as soon as you are beginning to relax and give in to this other sensation, he withdraws his hand, only to slap your ass again, and again, and again.

There's no more holding back in your cries now.

And when his palm slowly caresses over your heated skin, your whole body trembles and you start whimpering.

The sensations he's giving you are so confusing for your body and your mind. You know it's a punishment and his hard slaps hurts, he doesn't really hold back and you can feel his strength every time his palm hits your already bruised ass. But your skin is also buzzing and burning with need, aching for every hard and soft touch he gives you.

“Please – ” You try again, begging, crying.

Two fingers push inside you and you gasp for air. At once your walls tightly clasp around the digits, holding them in a tight grip, for just a moment, before Rafe starts fingerfucking you hard and deep.

These are just two fingers, but his fingers are long and thick and he uses so much force when he fucks you with them, you already feel full. Your moaning comes out uncontrollably.

“Rafe,” as you say his name, it's more like a prayer than anything else.

You can hear him growling in answer, and that sound sends new waves of sensations through your body.

You no longer feel the burning pain of his hard slaps, you just feel your aching need for him.

Suddenly he lets go of you and you're about to whine a complaint when he moves you from his thigh and pushes you down on your knees between his legs in front of him.

You gaze up at him with teary eyes and flushed cheeks, your heels digging into your sore ass cheeks, as he quickly opens his pants' zipper and your eyes take in the sight of his hard cock in front of you. You gasp as you see how hard and huge he is. It's always both terrifying and so alluring. You lick your lips.

“Come on, open your mouth.”

You move your head forward, your hands resting on his muscular thighs. You open your mouth, let your pink tongue stick out and gaze up at him again.

With one hand he grabs his thick shaft and positions the wet tip of his cock at your lips. You open up wider. Tasting the bitterness on your tongue you shiver and you feel that throbbing need between your own legs. Your lips close around the head, it's so thick, your mouth is stretching painfully. You still look up at Rafe, look into his face, see that hunger and lust and something darker in his eyes. You want to please him, you want to give him something back, and you just want to feel him inside you. You take in more of him, feel his tip pressing against the roof of your mouth. You start sucking and hear him groan. And suddenly his hand grips your hair at the back of your head. The grip so firm, your scalp starts burning. New tears are running down your cheeks. You try to blink them away. Try to focus and move your head, to get more of him inside your mouth. But he his so big and you start choking and try to pull back. He holds you in place.

“Not such a big mouth after all, hm?” You look up and see a devilish grin on his handsome face.

“Now let me help you,” his jaws clench, a frown appears on his forehead, the grip at your hair becomes firmer and suddenly he pushes your face down, so his hard length thrusts inside your mouth.

You make a muffled sound, surprised and in pain. It's too much and you can't breathe. You try to push yourself up, your fingers clawing into his thighs, but to no avail. He holds your face down, your mouth filled by his big cock, making you choke on it, spit leaving your mouth, dripping over your chin and onto him. When you think you can't take anymore, he pulls your head up, your jaws begin to relax, for a second – before he pushes you down again, thrusting deeper into your mouth that is clenching around his thick cock. His tip hits the back of your throat and your heavy gagging creates some sucking motion. He uses your mouth, forcing your head to bob up and down, taking your mouth for his pleasure, fucking your throat. And you're nothing but his fuck toy. And that throbbing between your legs becomes unbearable as he takes your mouth hard and relentlessly. Whining sounds mix with your gagging and sobbing noises.

He suddenly pulls you off of him and you start coughing heavily. He grabs your chin and makes you look at him. From the corner of your eyes you can see his erection, all covered in your spit, standing there, menacingly.

“You wanna say something?”

You sit on the floor in front of him, trying to catch your breath. The hoodie you're still wearing is clinging to your body, covered in sweat. You feel like your skin is burning. You feel like you're burning.

He leans down, arms on his knees, tilts his head to the side, licks his lips, and looks at you, with those piercing blue eyes, waiting for you to speak.

“Please –” You try again, your voice a whimpering sound.

He lifts his eyebrows, expectantly.

“Please, daddy.” You gaze at him with pleading eyes and his expression changes. It is as if that word has unlocked something.

He looks pleased for a moment and than more hungry than ever.

He grabs you, lifts you up and tosses you with your back on the bed. You gasp in surprise. Your whole body is vibrating with expectation, your heart is racing. And then he is on top of you. He got rid of his clothes and is kneeling between your spread legs, he lifts them on his shoulders and he looks into your eyes as he thrusts into you.

You scream as his hard cock fills your tightness. You turn your head away try to bury your face, try to muffle your screams, but he grabs your jaw and forces you to look at him, see his face contort, see his muscles tense, see the sweat on his forehead as he pushes his full length into you, so incredibly deep, so mercilessly hard, you think you might be split in two and you want it. You want all of it, you want all of him.

“Yes, please, daddy,” you manage to mutter between his relentless thrusts that make your body tremble beneath him. And that word, even though it seems hardly possible, makes him go harder still. He uses you without restraint, fucks you like some wild beast, ruining you forever, making you his. Forever his.

You can't count your orgasms. The first one might have been, when he finally pushed his massive cock completely into you, filling you so perfectly. That pain unlike anything else. Your screams become hoarse moans and whimpers as he takes you as he wants to. You forget your own will, it's only his will that matters and he may use you in any way he wants.

When you feel his hot seed inside you, your body convulses in response, as if trying to get more and more, deeper and deeper, until he spills the very last drop deep inside you.

Rafe pulls out and rolls off you, lying on his back next to you, breathing hard.

He pulls you close, so your head rests on his heaving chest.

He lifts your chin and you look at him, your eyes red and still brimming with tears. His thumb strokes under your eye and he smiles at you.

“You're such a mess.”

His hand caresses over your back.

“And not so bratty anymore, hm?”

His hand slaps your sore ass and you flinch in pain and pout and look at him, and he just chuckles and looks so incredibly beautiful, you feel that fluttering sensation in your belly. Maybe it's love or maybe that's him, or rather what he left there inside you.

[samodivaa]

Soul-debasing Interrogation

Winter Soldier x Agent!Reader

Both his mentality and body can withstand anything—to err is...human—you are the human in this situation.

Warnings - smut, rough sex, choking

Words - 2900

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His face is a reflection of the past, of what is left of his life before, but his humanity has long forgotten where it belongs. You are now looking at something resembling a semi-death state, you can’t even comprehend the present condition of his soul, the mental pain or unbearably oppressive suffering he has been put through—a living creature, somewhat both broken and whole at the same time.

His eyelids slowly open, dark orbs focusing on the floor as he lets out a loud groan. He has the violent urge to move, but behind his back, both hands are bound with rope designed to eat away at the skin when he moves, even slightly. His ankles are as well bound to the legs of the chair—he makes an internal scoff at his current state.

“Here we go” you are already standing in between of his wide spread legs, grabbing his chin in a painful hold, waiting to speak when his glossy eyes are fully focused on yours “Try not to let this room scare you.”

A slumbering rage is stirring, rippling just beneath the surface. You are on the borderline, caught between the tides of fear and fury—him looking at you without blinking dismembers you mentally, but at the same time convinces him of the necessity to fight your fear.

It’s been days and nothing works, he seems unbreakable.

“Talk”

his jaw between your fingertips, grip still painfully tight, fingers turning white.

You are so sweet with your business-like tone—just imagine ripping out the tongue, so you could never speak again.

You study his features for a moment longer before letting go of his chin to slap his face hard, frowning in a sign of dissatisfaction.

“I said talk!“

„Ты так красива, что я забыл что хотел сказать тебе“ (You are so beautiful that I forgot what I wanted to tell you)

He finally says after a dramatic pause, his voice carrying its mocking undertones.

„You sick son of a bitch!“

You slap him again, he doesn’t show any reaction.

„White clothes, белый как снег?” (white as snow)

You put your hands on his knees and bent down, to whisper in his ear.

„I will fucking kill you”

A thin line closes around his throat and goes through, slowly cutting into his skin while cutting off oxygen. It is more painful than lethal, but more erotic than painful. After this, his head flies back, manicured fingers whirling around his hair, the little hairs on the back of his neck prickling. A groan escapes his dry lips, one that he doesn’t realize he’d been holding.

You drop the thin plastic line and place one nail under his chin, moving slowly, fascinated, nova-flare blue eyes blazing into your own.

„Will you talk now?“

he just sighs, shifting uncomfortably.

„Fuck…“

you whisper, a hint of exasperation and affront in your tone. You almost laugh, guilt twines with another failed attempt of getting any information out of him—you looks down at his trousers, then your eyes widen

„You are enjoying this”

In a full-fledged case of desire, Soldat is able to form both mental and physical representation of the thing he wants now and you don’t plan on initiating action to diminish his state.

Winter snorts at your words and looks at you with a smirk. He is obsessed with the situation, fascinated by you, infatuated with you. He hungers for your taste, your smell, the feel of your skin touching his. He is burning with desire, but keeps quiet about it—that’s his punishment he brings on himself, but there is no way he is begging his enemy—even in this state.

“Yes, I am” he says, with a venomous sneer “My eyes are up here, darling” he breathes.

That uncomfortable feeling is spreading over you as your eyes lift up to his lips, watching them part, taking deep breaths, the longing for him grows especially strong. You stand as though hesitating, suddenly the blood rushes to your head and sends a glow to your cheeks.

You are unable to endure his persistent stare, but you raise your downcast eyes and you finally smirk triumphantly at him as you struggle to breathe, suddenly straddling his thighs, loosening all of the ropes.

Winter watches with growing interest as you lean down, tucking a strand of his dark hair behind his ear.

Soldat’s eyes are the interpreter of the animal lust beneath, there is an unhealthy sallowness in the color of his orbits, he doesn’t even blink—his body is tense, a steel trap just waiting to be sprung open, but you don’t know that.

Your greedy lips are on his skin, devouring everything you can—licking, sucking, and kissing, not holding back your throaty moans. You drag your lips up his throat, along his jaw, back toward his mouth.

Eyes meet again.

The smirk on his face has disappeared and leaves an intensity behind in his eyes, narrowing into a glare. He is a silent fury who no torment could tame—but the finest fury is the most controlled, there is a murderous look in his eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

you cry, face white and distorted, with a wan smile.

He laughs spitefully “It's either kiss you or kill you, that's how I see it”

His soul is overflowing but with mingled feelings, no single sensation stands out distinctly, but there is a need in his heart and his body. He grabs you by the hips and gets up with an unexpected growl. Sexual perversions mix with lust and adrenaline as his mind sees in scattered images of varying vulgarity, dropping you slowly on the cold floor.

The moment your feet touch the ground, you want to scream, but you are cut off with a rough kiss on your lips. He grinds his pelvis into you, so you can feel his hard length against your lower belly, and grips your ass through the flimsy pants.

“I will fuck you” he croons his plans into your ear, and then places a cold palm around your neck “But you need to beg me”

Dominance. Control.

Winter has lost control over everything, even the places in his head… it's paralyzing…of course he has an obsession about female obedience—his human fingers start teasing the crotch of your panties.

You gasp into his mouth, and the opening of your lips let his tongue slide through.

Your arms come up around his neck and he pulls you against him, hands flatten against your back…and you are up on the tips of your toes, kissing him as fiercely as he is kissing you.

He pulls away from you briefly to say gruffly “Come on, I want to hear it” his soul, overflowing with rapture, yearns for your pleas, skin, touch “I know you want me” he whispers with implicit faith in his words.

A whirl of the most fantastic notions takes possession of his brain when your eyes meet again—he clings to you more tightly, knotting his hands in your hair, wordlessy begging, hands sliding down to your waist.

He raises the metal hand to his mouth, sucking on his fingers before the slightly damp digits are sliding into your panties and teasing your aroused folds and you exhale sharply, turning into a whining mewl as he circles your clit with ease.

“Say it”

he chuckles ruthlessly as the other hand bruises the skin on your waist, while his thumb circles down under your clit, closer to your entrance, fluids start to leak out. Your eyes meet again and something dangerous sparks, you suddenly feel your legs growing weak under you.

“Please-” you whisper, trembling with need and delight.

Winter almost stops when he hears you, his own breathing hitches a bit. He is watching you with an icy expression, voice falls to a whisper, as though he’s talking to himself

“Keep begging” a dark edge creeps into his tone.

“Please, don’t stop”

You shamelessly lift your leg up, placing it across his lower back and he swipes his thumb over your now throbbing clit before using two fingers to spread your lips apart. You never felt such stretching. It is cold and uncomfortable, but he forces his fingers inside as far as he can. He nibbles at your earlobe, loving the sharp intake of your breath, your skin breaks out into a pale sweat as he eases into a slow rhythm, curling his fingers inside, fracking, until your body twitches and walls clench around his fingers.

“Need me more” He pistons in and out of you as you clench around his fingers “Beg me more”

Every synapse in your brain short out—the gut-wrenching terror you feel, with a balance of sweet pleasure slide into mindlessness—

“Please, I need more, I need you-” you are cut off with an involuntary moan of rapturous pleasure, you are so close.

Those who constantly hunger for control outside of self are undoubtedly starved for peace inside of self—it doesn’t fucking matter, does it?

You’re powerless, weightless…utterly at his mercy and that’s what makes you cum—his gaze as he is staring at you, time stops. Those eyes are piercing yours, this is what makes you cum, he looks at you like he owns you.

The orgasm has gutted your vocal chords, and all you manage is a small gasp, he rasps something in your ear as he mouths against the skin of your neck, but you are too lost to hear it.

You are pushed against the wall, he tilts his head back and lowers his lips to yours and they get bitten to the point of bleeding. Winter feels a metallic taste on his tongue as he pulls back to admire his work, licking his lips, smiling disgustingly.

The sharp taste of blood only whetting his appetite. Winter wraps long slender fingers, around your throat, squeezing slightly and the feeling is too cold for it to be a human hand. His mouth is so close to your ear it makes your hair stand on end as he presses his hips against you, licking along the shell of your ear.

It is arousing, but dangerous—very dangerous.

Your other hand trails down his abdomen to his belt, and a finger dips in before you retrieve it—teasing him, the other hand still rubbing small circles on the tip. He shifts closer so his hardness presses against your hand unwillingly to your plans.

His right hand digs fingers into the flesh of your waist, the grip turning bruising and hard as before—the metal one now resting on the wall close to your head—as a warning, a reminder of the power he holds.

„Don’t you dare stop“ he whispers, the bite of his threat lost somewhere in his need for you to touch.

You need moments to unbuckle his pants, and Winter continues to trail your skin with kisses and whines when a hand slides into his boxers, the other holding closely to take the large cock in your small hands, covering it as much as you can.

You look down at his slick cock and nearly gag at the idea of just having it in your mouth, you want to be on his knees for him.

Drops of pre-cum drop to the floor.

Winter clenches his metal fist, trying to resist the urge to moan loudly, closing his lips he inhales through his nose, face contorting with openly weeping pleasure. He groans in reply, unable to fight your gentle touch, trying to fuck himself against the grip of your hands, too small to cover his whole length, throbbing with delight of that thought, orgasm begins to creep up on him.

You can’t help, but hang your jaw in bewilderment at the sight before—he is falling apart from the need to come, all he can do is tighten the grip against your waist—to urge you to please him.

He lets a choked moan escape his lips as you start to move your hands up and down, languidly stroking at his cock—his metal fingers whirling naturally around your neck, squeezing, not enough to break it, whines and whimpers escaping him as if he has no control over them any longer.

You observe every reaction and sound with wide lips and sultry eyes—heavy breathing from both of you as the pleasure hadn’t stopped yet—mesmerized yet almost confused as you’d never seen a killer be so needy for an orgasm, but you don’t dare comment.

“Don’t slow down”

He breaths out, eyebrows furrowing, his eyes shut, only grunts fill the cold air.

He opens his eyes, glossy and unfocused, and his face is deeply flushed—he is faced with your eyes stained with tears as you struggle to breathe—you nearly lose consciousness, how fragile your body is and how strong his is.

He chuckles at the sight—lust twisting his features, the grip around your neck finally loosens, the rush of blood and oxygen to the brain results in an explosion of dopamine, followed by erratic breathing.

He uses the moment to prise his tongue into your open mouth, forcing himself into you. You try to push and trash, but he holds you firm against the wall, his tongue sweeping over your lips, against your teeth, claiming you—leaking your tears.

Tasting the life he can easily take away from you.

You wiggles slightly, when he rips off your pants off, those piercing blue eyes trying to get a glimpse of your nakedness as his cock is still out, his fist tightening around the base, stroking slowly as his eyes drift south—dragging his metal finger slowly through your slit, the other hand once again moves on the waist in the same place—it hurts, bruises already forming from his tight hold.

It is obvious that Winter is not human, his body, his dick is too big to be human. You shiver at the sight of his length, hard and needy. His eyes are completely blue, with no pupil or white, two seas full of desire—he will drown you in them.

Soldat lifts your leg to gain a better angle to your hole. Your lips are slick and swollen, but the opening is stretching tight around his cock, trying to enter you completely, you cry out, your back arching at the pain. You freeze, blood running cold as he slaps you hard across the face.

The dark-haired man stares back with ill-concealed suspicion.

He is big, wide and fills you deliciously—every time you assume that he's fully sheathed, he pushes in a bit more and makes you moan loudly.

You buckle your hips as best you can despite his rough movements, meeting him thrust for thrust, desperate to feel him buried inside of you.

He is rough with you, not taking his time, not easing you into it.

“Please, slow down, it is too much-”

“Shut up and take it”

he trembles at the way you say beg, because of him, his mind was a blank canvas accosted by nothing—now, it is all about you, about pleasure.

And you tremble like a downy rabbit caught in the clutches of a wolf—he seizes you as boldly as if you are his prey. He thrust with force, you don’t even have time to adjust, he is too eager.

You moan both from pleasure and pain—It's so tight, squeezing the life out of his cock and he loves the idea of hurting you, it is too erotic not to think about it. He fucks you with lazy, slow thrusts, just enjoying the sensations of sex.

“You are taking me so good” he pants against your throat

he enjoys the suction feeling onto his cock, pummeling your cunt ruthlessly, hitting over the tender spot and you groan, loudly. Your throat feels raw from all the moans.

You exist there, whimpering, taking a fortifying breath, feeling the approach of your own orgasm, compressed by him as he ravages you, marks you.

Hard, long, deep trust that forces moans out of both of you.

You immediately bite your lip, panting, stopping yourself from moaning more, but your spine bends back and your body stretches taut, insides clenching and spamming around his cock—the sound that escapes your lips is so unearthly that it drives him to the edge.

He slams into you as his cock explodes in an endless amount of cum, overflowing out of you, dripping on the floor. He groans as he continues to slam into you, even as you feel overly sensitive as your own orgasm reaches its peak.

He leans down, far enough that the dark ends of his hair brushes feather-light against your face, his metal hand is around your throat, squeezing tightly—you lose consciousness, thinking that he is killing you, but you just pass out.

Sex is another practiced art to him. Each move is calculated. His brain is programmed to perform, his body seducing his prey with ease, noting each response of his target.

Fear and seduction, repulsion and attraction—that's how corruption is spread, turning squalor and nastiness into thrill, seduces the target into his own web—and leaves with the corpse on his hands.

What a devilish creature, master of the art of Death and Seduction, all its nuance, all its depth and complexity—but he spared your life?

[bsydelver]

Can u do a Fluff story of Tamaki amajiki crushing on a goth/alternative reader

Part 1 depending on how well this actually does.

———>part 2

@wolvwa helped with this because I can’t write fluff for the life of me.

Note: YESSS, I have never wrote fluff; I only have written aus/general story. THIS IS REALLY EXCITING SO HERE WE GO— THIS WILL BE A CHAPTER OF TAMAKI JUST ADMIRING THE READER.

warnings: English isn’t my first language, writer has never written fluff 🙏, Reader has piercings, Nejire wingman (not really, she just tries to help Tamaki get out of his bubble when it comes to talking to you)

Summary: just read because this is left on a cliffhanger.

SEMI-PROLOGUE

You have been friends with the big three for how long now? All you could remember from the start of your friendship that, surprisingly, Tamaki was the one who even got you into their group in the first place- you were closer to Nejire at first for the most part though due to your shared interests and her fascination with your quirk and unique appearance. People could tell you were ‘different’ in terms of appearance, music taste and lots of other things but in your opinion: you never felt out of place with the group and they always find a way to include you into anything.

Whilst you were in your train of thoughts, you got cut off by Nejire calling for you, with Tamaki as her company, a smile came across your face and you noticed Tamaki doing a half smile as well, “It’s a day off today, do you wanna hang out at my dorm? Mirio said he’d be coming later,” Nejire’s personality could never make you decline her requests but with Tamaki accompanying her: there wasn’t a universe where you’d be refusing to hang out with them. Nejire didn’t let a second pass by after you had agreed and she practically pulled you to her dorm.

Silence filled the room as Nejire scrambled through her stuff looking for anything that could entertain you guys. You couldn’t help but notice the indigo haired-boy staring at you from the corner of your age, you couldn’t say you weren’t enjoying it but you thought that maybe he wanted to talk so you turned your head out of the blue which made Tamaki look down visibly flustered. The sound of a person rummaging through years worth of stuff stopped as Nejire approached you, “I couldn’t really find anything,” that was a strange occurance if you were being fully honest: Nejire always had something for you guys to do, wether it was repetitive or random, there was always something; you thought maybe Nejire just needed an excuse to do something but as you examined her face in an attempt to predict what she was trying to do, you noticed her and the Indigo-colored pair of eyes exchanging stairs that contrasted in expressions but still hinted towards something which you just shrugged off.

Nejire started to slowly get closer to you which wasn’t new, she always did that when she was about to analyse someone’s whole face so you didn’t back away, “Me and Tamaki always thought your piercings were really cool,” hearing Nejire say that made you flattered and you looked to Tamaki to confirm only to see his face buried in his hands which made you slightly smirk, “Did this one hurt?” Nejire pointed at the spider bites piercing you had, “well it d-” before you could answer you were interrupted by another one of her questions, “In fact, did all of them hurt?”

“Well it depends on your pain tolerance and the loca-” you were once again interrupted but this time not by Nejire but by a curious Tamaki, “How did you know which one you would look good with?..” Tamaki wasn’t holding eye contact with you as he asked, he was actually looking down at the floor more than anything, you couldn’t tell what the question exactly implied as it could’ve been many things but you didn’t want to make the environment awkward, “I would try filters or have my friends’ insights on them!” Tamaki looked amazed and it was a cute sight if you were being honest, his eyes had a shine in them that glowed when he opened them more and this moment was one of the times he was opening his eyes more, “Wait you have friends as cool as you?!” Nejire said in a tone filled with excitement, “You think I’m cool?” you raised your eyebrows and you weren’t asking this as a normal question, it was more friendly-teasing; “Actually, it isn’t only me— Tamaki was just tell-” Nejire’s quote-on-quote exposé was fortunately, for Tamaki , cut off by the creak of the door opening, “MIRIO!”

[chiriwritesstuff]

Hometown Glory; Chapter 2 Sneak Peek (Pt. 2)

Series Masterlist │ Read Chapter 1 Here!

Do we want a little flashback? I finally have a chance to sit and write after the chaos that was the last few weeks, I hope you all enjoy this little sneaky peek! Chapter 2 is dropping soon!

Your eyes remain fixed on the glossy surface of Nana's casket, the black reflection staring back at you like a mirror of your own conflicted thoughts and feelings. It's as if you're trying to find solace in the emptiness, to drown out the chaos of emotions swirling inside you with the deafening silence of grief. His voice breaks through the stillness, soft and hesitant, a stark contrast to the storm raging within you. You can hear the awkwardness in his tone, the uncertainty in his words, as if he's treading on fragile ground, unsure of where to step next. "I heard you graduated last fall," he begins, his voice so soft it's almost a whisper. You nod in response to his question, your gaze still fixed on the casket, the weight of his presence beside you almost suffocating in its intensity. You can feel the tension between you, thick and palpable, like a barrier separating you from the rest of the world. "And you started law school," he continues, his voice betraying a hint of eagerness, a flicker of hope. "I heard about it from Pop—" "I'm surprised you're even here," you say before you can fully process how harsh and how bitter you must sound, like someone who bets on losing dogs, like someone who— "Yeah, well, I got on the red-eye from Tampa after I got the call," he replies, and you swear you can feel his heavy gaze trained on the side of your face, his eyes pleading, begging. "Look, Glo, Bel—" But before you can fully process his words, before you can respond to the flood of conflicting emotions threatening to overwhelm you, he reaches out to you, his hand closing around your wrist with a firm but gentle grip. His touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, sparking memories of a time when his touch meant safety, comfort, home. But now, it feels like a betrayal, a reminder of everything that's gone wrong between you, everything that's been left unsaid and unresolved. “I wanted to see you,” he whispers, a slight heave in his chest. “Fuck, Glory, it’s been five fucking years—” And at that moment, you're torn between the desire to push him away, to protect yourself from the pain he represents, and the longing in your heart that yearns for connection, for closure, for something more than this endless cycle of hurt and regret. “Are we really going to do this now?! Right here, in front of—” “Yes, Glo. Right here, right now, right in front of this entire fucking town,” he replies harshly as you strain against his grasp, your strength no match to his. “You wouldn’t see me otherwise, god knows how much I’ve tried… please, Bella—” “Don’t you fucking dare! Don’t you fucking dare call me that, Francisco—” “Oh, so it’s like that, then?" he exclaims, his face a mask of stunned hurt, the weight of his words heavy with disbelief. "You disappear without a word, not even a goodbye, and we’re back to square one? Francisco?! Seriously, Bella?! Thirteen years of friendship—" “Well, that’s your name, right?” You spit, your eyes darting around your surroundings as you try to hide your distress. “I remember a time when you would call me Frankie, but that was before you decided that you were too good for this town and everyone who gave a damn about you!” “Well, that’s something a friend would call you, right?” you retort, your voice laced with venom, your eyes finally meeting his gaze. "What would your girlfriend think, Francisco? Did you bring her along for the ride, to my grandmother's fucking funeral?" A throat clears from behind you, and a light tap on your shoulder makes you turn, only to see a figure you never wanted to face again. "Fiancée, actually," Chelsea corrects, her smirk betraying her satisfaction as she steps closer, pulling you into a hug. "I am so sorry for your loss," she whispers against your ear, her fingernails digging into your skin. "Oh, Glory," she coos, "I missed you."

Series Taglist:

@ashleyfilm / @danaispunk / @imdrinkingpedro / @yxtkiwiyxt / @lilyevanstan1325

@kungfucapslock / @critfailroll / @maried01 / @misstokyo7love / @missladym1981

@angelofsmalldeath-codeine / @brittmb115 / @readingiskeepingmegoing / @darkheartgatita / @jupiter-soups

@anoverwhelmingdin

[yona049]

𝕄𝕚𝕘𝕦𝕖𝕝 𝕆'𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

Part 5

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩🕸️𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪

Miguel was standing in the middle of Nueva York, wearing casual clothes, which he hadn't done for a long time.

The streets were lit with neon pink and blue lights along with small puddles of rain water on the ground.

He looked around confused until he heard a loud scream in the distance. His instincts kicked in and he shapes his hand, ready to shoot a web, but no webbing appeared.

Stunned for a second, he then started running towards the source scream.

"Lyla! Lyla?! Ugh!"

Unsure why his Artificial Intelligence wasn't responding, Miguel realized he was on his own.

Turning a corner, he almost slipped in a puddle before recovering and finally getting to the source of the scream.

Y/n, wearing a short red dress, was on the ground at the back of the alleyway. Miguel suddenly realized what he was reliving.

"M-mariposa... Y/N!"

He ran up to her and pulled her into his arms, her body limp and covered in blood.

"¡No otra vez! (Not again!) No! NO! C'mon baby! Talk to me!"

Her eyes slowly looked up and her hand moves to Miguel's cheek. He takes her hand and lifts it to his cheek letting tears form.

Y/n smiled before weakly whispering.

"Gabriella... Is she ok?"

Miguel nods quickly biting his lip trying to restrain his tears.

"Yes! Our daughter is safe at home."

Finally being sure her daughter was ok, she rubs Miguel's cheek with her thumb leaving a streek of blood behind.

"Te amo, Miguel." her hand falls with her last words.

"I love you too, Y/n!"

Miguel lets out a final scream of pain before someone abruptly shakes him awake.

"MIGUEL!"

Miguel's eyes fly open, and he's back in the Med bay holding Y/n's wrist. He was looking straight at Y/n who was sitting on his bed trying to wake him up.

Miguel had his hand clutched onto her wrist with his claws lodged into her skin.

Taking a few beats to breathe, they both collectively calm down.

"I'm sorry." Miguel says softly, apologizing.

"This might hurt a bit. "slowly he retracts his claws causing Y/n to whimper a little.

After his claws are fully gone he holds her wrist delicately watching the wounds.

"Why isn't it healing?" he questioned, looking at the masked Y/n.

Y/n pulls her wrist away and holds it to her chest.

"I haven't had serum in a while. I was waiting for you to wake up."

Miguel looks down at his body and traces over the bandages covering his shoulder and chest.

"I'm sorry, I know I messed up, I killed someone! I swear I'll answer for all of it, but I need to go home first! To Gabrion!"

Y/n stands up trying to exit the room quickly but Miguel stops her.

"Y/n wait!"

She stopped at the door, the sun set shining through the glass window of the building filling the room with its orange glow.

"That's your name, isn't it? You're my Y/n."

He slowly stood up off the bed with a little grunt looking at her with her back turned to him.

"Not exactly, Miguel. As much as I wish I was, as much as I wish you were my Miguel! I couldn't be that selfish. Your Y/n is-"

"... Gone." Miguel quips.

Finally she looks back at him still holding her wrist. Miguel walks closer to her and corners her against the door.

"My Y/n passed away a long time ago, and I know nothing could replace her, and I know that I couldn't replace your Miguel either but.."

Y/n holds her breath trying to hold back another stream of tears.

"I saw you die again, Miguel. You're exactly like him. I can't loose you again! I won't. So maybe I should just go back to my earth."

She looked down avoiding eye contact before dropping her mask.

Finally having her mask down, Miguel moves his hand under her chin and leaned down to look her in the eyes.

"You won't loose me, Mariposa. I won't loose you either. That night I let you go. I won't let you get hurt, not again."

Once she looked into his eyes letting the orange sunset reflect in her glossy eyes, Miguel couldn't hold back.

He leaned down and placed a delicate kiss onto her lips. A savory bittersweet kiss they both craved for years.

Y/n moved onto her toes leaning into the kiss. For a moment they forgot about every worry and every moral keeping them from each other.

Being sure she was ok with it, his hand drops from her chin and wraps around her waist, pulling her body against his.

Pulling back from the kiss with a small gasp for air, Y/n looks into Miguel's brown eyes. Her fingertips delicately trace over his cheeks before she finally cups them and pulls him back into a kiss.

Miguel pushes her body against the door lifting her body enough for her legs to wrap around him.

The make out was good until the door slides open without warning. Miguel falls forward ontop of Y/n using his hand to block her head from impact.

"Well, bet having a Spider sense would be really handy right about now!" Jess smirks looking down at Y/n and Miguel.

Y/n feels her face heat up and a blush spreads across her face.

Miguel gives an annoyed snarls and stands up before helping Y/n up too.

Not letting go of her hand they both walk back into the med bay. Y/n sits Miguel back down, but before she could turn back to Jess she feels Miguel put a small kiss onto her still bleeding wrist.

Jess rolls her eyes and grabs a bandage.

"I'll be outta your hair in a second, just came to check up on ya. And also give you some updates."

Jess uses some disinfectant on Y/n's wrist and then explains.

"Eddie Brock or Venom from Earth 132, Now dead, was part of a cannon event on his earth."

Jess wraps up Y/n's wrist, all the while Y/n looked down feeling guilty. Miguel watched her intently, before taking her hand.

"I'm assuming that Earth 132 is going to collapse soon?" Miguel asks.

Jess sighs and nods leaning against a cabinet.

"It's already in the process. I sent some spiders to try and save it, but right now. It's not looking good."

Y/n clenches her teeth and feels a ache in her heart.

"It's my fault, I killed him! I caused an entire earth to collapse!"

Jess looks at Y/n with a worried expression and walks to the door.

"Y/n, you weren't in the right headspace. For now, we'll try to contain it."

Jess left the room just as fast as she came in leaving Y/n to think.

Miguel pulled her into a hug, and placed a gentle kiss on her head.

"Y/n, I want you to go home, until I come and get you."

"What!"

"You need to think, and I need to fix this."

Y/n stands up, and takes Miguel's hands in hers.

"I can help! I can try to fix this!"

Miguel smiles and rubs her hands.

"Mariposa! I'll come get you soon. But go home, go to Gabrion. After I've fixed this! We can talk about us."

Miguel pushes a hair out of her face and places a small kiss on her knuckles.

"Ok." she whispers barely above a whisper.

"But pampering me with kisses will only work once!"

Her objection makes Miguel chuckle.

"Cariño, te he extrañado." (My darling, I've missed you.)

"What?"

"Nothing, Mariposa."

[iampowerhungry]

48HC Update!

Don't worry, I'll try keeping things short. So, following ahead from this post. I have managed to manifest all of them with the 3D having no choice but to catch up and reflect my 4D. Don't worry huns, I'll show off some pictures.

I swear to god, I really need to update those circles but they're already so pretty ugh.

Desired Appearance - I actually think I look a lot more like Kang Sujin and Seo Nari combined, my waist is snatched and my skin is clear fr fr. I gained weight as I intended and my stomach feels so tight, abs you know? I love having a toned body oh and bigger cherries, I have to buy some new bra size because the old ones don't fit anymore, fun.

Inhumane / Supernatural Beauty ability ( The biggest Glo - Up ) - Compliments, stares, people having a crush on me, and being everyone's crush.

Becoming the personification of 'The Art of Seduction'- Reading people became a lot easier, and persuading them too, I didn't even need to ask my dad twice to buy me Prada.

Desired weight - Coming close! My ideal weight is 57kg, and I have a bigger appetite.

Martial Arts Expert / Master / Peak Human Reflexes - My stamina is basically unlimited! No more leg pains after leg day.

Grades Revision ( Being highly respected as the top student ) - People always ask me when it comes down to the knowledge of everything, literally.

Enhanced soft skills ability, charisma, leadership, and empathy - I've always had it, and so many more people love me.

Being the Mysterious It Girl + Beauty & Brains - Not a surprise really, someone said reading me is basically like trying to read a new language entirely.

Trophies, Medallions, more gold medals. Specifically Olympics - a lot more competitions! I also won one of my competitions, first place!

SP ( Upcoming success story coming up that's for sure, and love - dovey love story behind that ) - Many of his friends like e, not sure how to take that but I'll take it and many of them ship us still haha. He's coming along soon, don't worry my doves.

Being able to manifest anything instantly through perfect sc (self-concept), literally, I already have perfect sc. - I literally got a smartwatch, Bakugo figurine, and a t-shirt I wanted by affirming once.

All my other notes app desires lmao - I'm very much indifferent to my sps or desired people, to be honest, I'm stuck with myself and I'm happy with that. I have a much closer relationship to my family and desired people.

Photographic Memory - Better memory! Still ongoing since I didn't focus on this too much, honestly I completely forgot about this.

Heal my Keratosis Pilaris ( Clear Perfect Skin) - It's basically clearing up!

That's all! I'm planning to do other challenges soon, I recommend doing this challenge, seriously, it's so good. And let's not forget a happy birthday to my beloved sister! @deusexmachinawitch, and a thank you to @zen-shu for creating this challenge. See you guys!

"Happy Birthday! @deusexmachinawitch"

[copias-sewer-rat]

Against the forces of Heaven and Hell, just us.

PART 1|PART 2|

Sometimes the friendships that you least expect to stick are the ones that stay with you the longest. It is up to you to keep them, cherish them, be sincere with your words and everything will be fine.

⸸tags: Good Omens AU, a tiny bit of angst, sexual innuendos and foul language, Copia shenaningans related to series and book Crowley. Around 5.6K words.

⸸ my masterlist ⸸ ⸸ read it on Ao3 ⸸ II. ME AND THE DEVIL

“But in the end it’s only a passing thing, this shadow; even darkness must pass.”

J.R.R. Tolkien. The Lord of the Rings.

----

Terzo Emeritus never wanted to be Papa. His father knew it and still, once his brother’s time was up as the head of the Satanic Church, Papa Nihil did not hesitate to give Terzo the position he knew he hated above all else. Being Papa had taken his two older brothers away and the youngest Emeritus did not want the same fate for himself, but he did not have a choice.

He wasn’t a bad Papa. His attractive appearance and charming personality had brought many new siblings of sin to the church. Nihil and Sister Imperator were delighted because of that. What they didn’t know, however, was that every night Terzo Emeritus cried himself to sleep, longing for the brotherly love that had been taken away from him so violently.

During his time as cardinale of the church, Terzo was instructed in every skill vital to the papacy. This instruction occurred in different seminars and monasteries all over the Italian country. However, he was naturally gifted in the ways of the satanic ruling, having observed his two brothers masterfully take care of the position while he was still a young boy who hugged their legs in fear. That mastery provided Terzo with more than enough room to practice his favourite hobby: fucking.

Terzo proudly had a long list of satisfied lovers under his belt. These lovers were the perfect distraction from his shitty life, the one that he hadn’t chosen for himself. Every time he fucked someone, the screams of his name in pleasure became the opium that kept him sedated from thinking about anything else, but all drugs have their downtime. Once the lover for the night was gone, Terzo was left on his own dark room, alone and afraid. The cold emptiness of the bed made Terzo’s bones ache and the hole on his heart got deeper and deeper. He thought of his brothers then. Were they so afraid and lonely as he was when they were Papas? And if that was the case, why did he never notice their pain? He could have helped, maybe if he did, they would still be right beside him and he wouldn’t be so terribly alone.

----

Rome, 1994, a calm and chilly October night. During one of his nightly hunts for a lover, Terzo’s steps led him to tavern, busy enough to find a fitting candidate to calm his mind for at least a few hours. The place was full enough to feel lively and cheerful, but not enough to feel drowned by the masses — not that Terzo cared much, he adored the masses—. He was hopping to become the center of attention the second he stepped in, the skull makeup that marked his position as the ‘highest’ member of the Satanic Church perfect and pristine. Despite that, there already was someone keeping everyone’s attentions. At the far corner of the bar there was a man dressed in what seemed to be a very expensive all-black Italian suit. His hair was pulled back with hair wax in a neat way, small sunglasses covering his gaze from the group of people that surrounded him. The first thought that came to Terzo’s mind about the stranger was that he was able to fully see everyone, but that nobody could truly see them. His second thought was that he wanted the earth to swallow him whole.

As if they had been reading Terzo’s thoughts, the stranger tilted their head upwards, looking directly at him. The people around were talking lively and didn’t even notice that their attention had shifted elsewhere. Furthermore, Terzo could have sworn that the stranger’s eyes glowed under their glasses. With a haste that was unlike him, Terzo approached the bartender, asking for a Bloody Mary, extra charged. He was going to need it. Sipping on his drink, Terzo started assessing his ground for the night, trying not to care about the stranger, who seemed to be back into the thrilling conversation with their many adoring fans.

There were a few people that caught Terzo’s attention: a tall dark man that looked like could crush him with his thighs, a couple of girls, probably best friends, who could be easily persuaded to corruption, but he finally decided on a lonely brunette that seemed to need the company that he could offer. So, with his characteristic charm he approached her.

“What is doing pretty little thing like you in a place like this all lonely? Please allow me to accompany you.” Terzo began. “Would you like another drink? My treat of course.” He continued, seeing that the lady was about to finish her rum and coke. The perfect excuse.

“Mmm, to be truthful, I am getting thirsty and this drink is all water by now. The company is just the cherry on top…” The girl teased, winking at Terzo. Bingo.

“I will be right back then. The same?” He asked and the girl nodded with a witty smile.

It took Terzo exactly a minute and twenty eight seconds to get the girl her drink, but when he got back the lady wasn’t alone, the stranger was talking to her, buttering her up. Terzo was furious, but he was also willing to prove that he was the better player.

“Hey, dolcezza (sweetness), here you go. A sweet drink for an even sweeter lady.” The stranger seemed to look at Terzo behind their glasses, brow raised.

“Were you with this man, cara?” The stranger asked.

“No, actually we just met. He offered to buy me a drink and to keep me company.” The lady explained.

“Ah, do you mind if I accompany you? It is quite lonely tonight for me as well…” Terzo was fuming at this point, but he was willing to accept the challenge. Whoever got the girl for the night would win and the other… well… would run away with their tail between their legs, lonely and humiliated.

“Of course, friend. No one wants to be alone on a night as beautiful as this.” Terzo spoke, an aggressive grin adorning his mouth, an acceptance of the challenge. The stranger nodded in appreciation.

“Grazie mille (thank you very much). Why don’t we introduce ourselves? That would warm us up a bit.” The stranger said, sipping on their red wine.

“I will start then!” The girl said. “My name is Aurora, but all my friends call me Ro.” The stranger smiled, delighted. Before he could say anything Terzo spoke.

“Ma chel bel nome! (It is a beautiful name!) It fits you perfectly.” The girl blushed a bit, a mixture of her growing intoxication and Terzo’s words. “My name is Terzo, Terzo Emeritus, but you can call me whatever you want, tessoro.” The stranger stiffened a bit to the mention of Terzo’s name, but he didn’t give a lot of importance to it. Maybe they knew who he was and that would give him the victory.

“And my name is Copia. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Copia took Ro’s hand and kissed it slightly. She giggled at the gesture. She was definitely enjoying the attention.

*cough* “Well, if we want to keep this moving, why don’t we play a little game?” Terzo suggested. “Two truths and a lie perhaps?” Ro put her hands together in excitement.

“Yes! I love that game! Whoever looses each round has to down their drink though! That makes it more interesting.” Ro proposed.

“Ah yes, it is as if you were reading my thoughts, cara.” Copia agreed.

“I will start then!” Ro stated. “One, I have broken almost every bone in my body… Two, I have never had a boyfriend… Three, I am not actually Italian!” Terzo blinked slowly, she was good.

“I will guess first, then.” Terzo spoke. “Mmm, it would be impossible for a beauty like you to have never had a boyfriend, but maybe you are a bit picky… You are definitely Italian, more specifically from Napoli, my ears do not lie about accents.” Terzo stopped, looking at Ro completely, from her very cute heels to the last hair on the top of her head, observing every part of her, making her blush again. “You are pretty fit, I assume that you practice some sport so you probably have broken a few bones, maybe most of them is a bit exaggerated but you can never know.” Terzo stopped again, pondering his options. “The lie is the bones one…” Terzo looked at Ro, tilting his head a bit, waiting for a response, turning then to Copia.

“I actually agree with him.” Copia said.

“Merda (shit).” Ro says, downing her almost full rum and coke. “That is going to hit hard later.” She laughed.

“As I have made all the effort, allow me to be next one.” Terzo said, Ro nodded and Copia extended his hand as if to say ‘go ahead’.

“Oh, let me get another drink first. You think about it!” Ro said, running towards the bar.

“You have a pretty good intuition… We will see if you are as good of a liar.” Copia teased, making Terzo close his fist in anger. He was having none of it, he was going to make them both tumble before him, drunk and pathetic.

After a couple of minutes, Ro came back, drink in hand, this time seemed to be a vodka lemon.

“Ready?” She asked.

“Of course. One, I am terribly good in bed. Two, I am the leader of the Satanic Church. Three, I have two brothers.” Ro laughed awkwardly, going a bit pale.

“I mean, it seems obvious, no? As extravagant as you look with that makeup, you cannot be the leader of the Satanic Church… that is the lie!” Ro responds, lightly hitting the table with her palm.

Inside, Terzo was laughing. He felt bold, powerful. He wanted to scare her a bit, but then, he looked at Copia. He was grinning, two shinning fangs poking from his painted upper lip. What froze Terzo in his spot was that he could actually see Copia’s eyes now, they were piercing his soul. One dark and the other white, just like his…

“You had two brothers, that is the lie.” Copia responded and Terzo went even whiter than he was with his makeup. Ro looked at both of them, blood rushing to her head.

As a response, Terzo drowned his Bloody Mary, which also made Ro down her drink, fear visible in her eyes.

“Okie dokie, my turn then.” Neither Terzo nor Ro moved, their drinks were empty, but it didn’t matter. “One, I own a 1968 Maserati Ghibli. Two, I have lots of friends. Three, I am a demon from Hell.” Ro didn’t even attempt to answer, she stood up from the table and left, stumbling into a few chairs on her way.

Copia was looking at Terzo, directly at him, he had taken his glasses off and now Terzo could see him.

“You are a demon… I am you don’t have many friends, that’s the lie…” Terzo said with a shaky voice.

“Correctto! (Correct!) Now I suppose I must down my drink.” Copia laughed, drinking the whole glass of red wine and subsequently savouring a few drops that had fallen on his chin. His tongue was long and a bit pointy, almost serpent-like.

Terzo said nothing, he had no words left. He knew of Hell, of course, he was its representative on Earth, but he never imagined to encounter a proper demon on Earth.

“You are a pretty interesting man, Terzo Emeritus. Even since you entered the tavern I could feel your presence amongst us, trying to hide in the darkness.” Copia spoke. “I know your soul is not tainted, even though you have been told so… but, I can feel the thunder that is breaking in your heart. I can see through the scars inside you…” His words sounded almost lyrical. Terzo Emeritus felt as if he was floating on a cloud, completely mesmerized by the demon in front of him.

“I-” He tried to say.

“Your brothers send their regards to you, Terzo. They miss you dearly.” Copia smiled.

“What- My brothers? What are you saying…” Copia rose from his seat.

“We will see each other again, do not worry, everything will be answered. Until then, enjoy…” Copia snapped his fingers but nothing happened. They took their exit, putting their glasses back on their face and smirking devilishly.

Terzo could not believe it. His brothers were…ok… in Hell but ok. Tears started forming in his eyes, there was no chance he would let them out though, not in public at least. He rose from his seat and as elegantly as he had entered, he exited.

“Hi! Sorry that I left so suddenly. I don’t know what came over me…” Aurora ambushed him at the door. “I know this is a bit sudden but I think you are pretty cute, could you perhaps show me those skills you were talking about earlier?” This definitely was Copia’s doing. There would be time for happy tears latter, now it was time for a celebratory fuck.

----

Maybe in you imagination Hell is like this awful place: torture, lava and heat everywhere… well, it is like that, don’t get me wrong, but it is more than that. Hell has changed plenty throughout the centuries, each time adapting to what Hell felt to humanity while period on Earth occurs. During the begging of the Industrialization, Hell looked more like a factory and in the last few decades it has turned its appearance into that of an office, one which you can never leave.

“I cannot believe that that fucking rat of a demon did it…” A bald man with skeleton makeup and horns shouted from the depths of a tiny office in Hell, watching static on an old television.

“He was our best chance fratello (brother), and he delivered.” A white haired man with wings and also skeleton makeup mumbled back.

“I just wasn’t sure about him, you know that you cannot trust their kind…”

“He has come a long way and now we are his equals, the least he could do was to hear us out.”

“Did you give him the scroll he wanted already?”

“Not until he puts us in contact with Terzo, like properly in contact.”

“Bene (good), we will make that old man regret his fucking decisions.”

----

30/8/2023

'Today Terzo Emeritus came to the store asking for Copia, again. As always, he was trying to flirt with me, saying how cute I looked with my reading glasses, how the light of the antique shop made my features even more beautiful. I cannot lie, I blushed a couple of times. On one of those times Copia came into the store, fists closed and steps heavy. He smiled at Terzo and asked him with a teethy smile to talk to him outside, to which Terzo agreed. He winked at me goodbye and I stayed inside organizing a new crate of antiques that had arrived just this morning. I don’t know what they talked about outside but when Copia entered again, this time alone, his cheeks were flushed and he had taken his glasses off. I greeted him with a smile but he just huffed and went to the kitchen. I worry about Copia, I don’t know if Terzo is the best company for him…'

You sigh. Terzo is a bit of a handful, but Copia seems like he always has a good time with him, so you at least tolerate him.

“Angel, what are you doing?” Copia pokes their head through the kitchen door.

“Oh, nothing special, just writing on my diary as always.”

“One day you need to let me read it. I am sure it is quite interesting…”

“Not really, but we spend a lot of time together. Most of the things I write about you already know…”

“Most!?” he says a bit offended “Is there something you are not telling me angioletto?” In a blink of an eye Copia is right in front of you, observing your every move, every flinch, every blush. The latter occurs, pupils dilating, one of the many perks (or curses) of your human disguise.

“Of course not! Why would there be?” You squeak. Copia looks at you with his lips and eyes squeezed, trying to discern if you are actually telling the truth.

“I know there is something that you are not telling me, I won’t force you to do so, however. Just know that I am always here to listen. I have pretty big ears just for that!” Copia mocks, putting his hands behind his pointy ears.

“What are you? The wolf from the stories? Will you try to eat me or something?” You say, and it sounds more flirtatious than expected. With regret, you back up instantly, waving your hands in a negative motion. Then, there is Copia. Their mouth is slightly open, blush adorning their cheeks, glasses slightly tilted and his white eye is visible, the pupil very much dilated. If you didn’t know better, you would said that he has suffered a short circuit.

It is even more evident when Copia vanishes in a cloud of smoke accompanied by a loud ‘poof’. You panic, he hasn’t done that for years. This will cost you an expensive dinner.

A light sound of steps echoes through the back of your store, getting more and more distant so you follow, you won’t let Copia escape that easy from you apology. The kitchen is empty so you try the storage room, the broom closet and lastly the upstairs bedroom. There, in a red scarf you use during mornings when it is chilly outside is a tiny brown rat with black spots on their eyes, tail, hands, feet and nose a light shade of pink, curled up in a ball. With all the gentleness you can master you pick up the cute rodent, cupping your hands as if they were a nest.

“Oh my dear! I am so sorry. It wasn’t my intention to make you transform. Please forgive me.” You weren’t quite sure what you had done for Copia to turn into a cute rodent after so long, but you knew it was quite embarrassing for him to do so. “Please turn back into your own self! I will do anything, I will even do the apology dance… please dear…” You murmur that last part, getting the little rodent close to your cheek, nudging at it lovingly. Its fur is soft and it smells like coffee. Copia probably had an espresso before coming to the store.

The rat that until then had been completely still rises to stay on two feet and smells your face, tickling it with its little whiskers.

“I’ll tell you what, if it makes you come back to normal sooner I will do the apology dance right now!” Placing the little rodent back to their self-made nest you back up, allowing them to see you fully and then you begin to dance:

“I am so sorry…” You sing while you swing your hands to the sides.

“I was in the wrong…” You continue putting one feet forward.

“It was a mistake…” Now the other feet.

“So now I dance…” You twirl.

“The apology dance.” And finish with a low bow.

Suddenly, from the red scarf appears cloud of smoke and a cross-legged demon seated on top, clapping.

“Truly beautiful. Each time you do it better angel. It wasn’t necessary for you to do the dance though, I just got a little flustered. Maybe I am under the weather or something.” The demon adverts their gaze as they speak. You smile candidly, you now that there is something else under those words, but if he doesn’t pressure you to show him your diary, you won’t tease him about this.

“Well, at least you are back to normal… Oh! I forgot to ask as you ran off so suddenly. What did Terzo want?” Copia exhales and comes down from the table where the red scarf laid, now a mess under the weight of his human bottom.

“You know that I have been helping Terzo and the band to prepare more music.” You nod. You hadn’t seen him much these last couple of weeks because he was very busy recording music with Terzo’s music group project, Ghost. “Well, the new record is almost done and after that there will be a new tour coming. He wanted to let me know that it will be happening sooner than expected, probably next month, so I will be leaving for a while.” Your expression changes then from that of a smile to a neutral expression.

It pained you immensely that Copia had to leave to tour again. You would be alone for months and it terrified you. Copia’s companionship had become your reality, your safe haven. Ever since he ‘took’ you from Heaven itself you two had been together, side by side, through the good times and the not-so-good ones. It was true that you both had your own hobbies and such, but you were always close, meeting for dinner or just to chat a couple times per day — and in the incredibly good days you would spend the entirety of the day together.— Copia touring was a completely different scenario. He would be gone for so long, he probably won’t have the time to call you much —it has happened before and he had to do the apology dance because you were worried sick constantly— and your intrusive thoughts would win again, making you cry like a toddler that has lost their parents at the mall.

It isn’t that you don’t trust him, well, you mostly do, but his nature is what worries you. According to Terzo, while on tour, Copia had the reputation of becoming some sort of sexual beast. Everyone wanted a piece of him and you were jealous. You had no reason to, of course, but you were. Thoughts of Copia sharing what you could not have with a random human that desired him was too much, but you never told or will tell him that. He is your friend and sometimes when you are not sure about your own purpose and everything is dark he is the light without whom you cannot see, he becomes your beacon of light, your anchor that grounds you to reality and without your anchor you fear you will sink sooner or later.

There is a realisation then, you have been quiet for a while and Copia is looking at you with worry but still waiting patiently for you to speak.

“I- It will be sad being here all alone again, I will miss you. Despite that, you have to go. You love being on the road with the band, you have said so many times. You will have the best of times!” A bitter smile adorns your lips and you advert your gaze. Copia keeps looking at you with worry, their glasses now on their hand.

“You could come with us… I am sure Terzo won’t mind and the ghouls want to meet you.” He whispers and it breaks your heart. ‘I wouldn’t be able to take it, dear. All those fans adoring you, begging for you to be with them and you complying to their most intimate desires… It would break me seeing it.’ You think, but instead you say:

“You know it is not for me dear, and I have things to do. There are still so many clues to find to the mystery to be solved. We are so close, I can feel it.”

“Angel, it has been like this for more than two thousand years… We know what is happening, there is a bet between Heaven and Hell. They are playing with humans for their own amusement… We know that.” You frown at Copia’s words.

“Dear…” You say very slowly and with a hint of anger. “We have talked about this before. There must be something that started this bet and if we find it maybe human will be free from their games, the bet will be over. However, if we don’t do anything humans will continue to be the pieces of this twisted game.” Copia crosses his arms.

“Frankly, I cannot even begging to comprehend why you still take Heaven’s side in all of this.” He says with a bit of poison on his tone and you scoff at his words.

“Do not change the subject!” You exclaim, your tone a louder than you expected. “I am still an angel. God must have some divine plan that will make sense in the end, she must have. I just don’t like how it is being done, I want to change it and you know that.” You explain but even you don’t believe your own words, they are simply an excuse for the pain you feel.

“You are so incredibly blind angel…” Copia says and the tears forming on your eyes are unavoidable so you turn your back on Copia so he doesn’t see how hurt you are. A gasp can be heard, Copia wants to say something but his breath halts for a second, leaving the room in complete silence. “Just… think about it, please.” Then Copia is gone.

If only he knew how much you thought about it.

----

“Is it really going to happen?” You beamed with excitement.

“Yes, any minute now. I was hopping to show you earlier, but there hasn’t been a good time for it. Despite that, we needed a break from the investigation so I made time for it.” Copia smiled, his cheeks red from the cold.

“Are you sure that you are ok? You seem to be handling the cold worse than me.” You grabbed Copia’s hands, trying to heat them with your own. Copia didn’t move for a second, his cheeks got even more red so you rubbed them with your own.

“I- I am okie dokie. Do not worry about me, angioletto.” He smiled at you, his eyes reflecting the light of the full moon, which was almost lost behind the very dark clouds that were covering the skies. “And more so, it needs to be cold for it to happen.”

You were so very excited. Snow was the first thing that Copia had taught you about Earth but you hadn’t been able to see it until now. You had been too busy investigating the locations of more scrolls, asking for help to translate them and trying not to get caught by Heaven and Hell —although the last one was the easiest to achieve. Your investigation had led you to Romania, a beautiful country with stunning buildings, charming nature and very friendly people. Copia had eventually found you there, same as all the previous times and you always fell into the same routine. He knew a lot about Earth and humans and you were really eager to listen. He had taught you about food, costumes, languages and such. Well, he didn’t actually teach you, he showed you. You thought you knew it all from the books you had read up in Heaven. The truth was that you didn’t know anything until Copia. He took you to eat, to public events, to social gatherings and markets. You didn’t remember ever having true fun until you met him.

“I actually wanted to also add to this little event with something of my own.” You rose your gaze, Copia had cut his hair a bit and was rocking a bit of a beard, but he was still the demon that you had grown so fond of. “We have known each other for a while now…”

“Around two hundred and fifty years or so.” You interrupted him and Copia laughed.

“Yes, I guess it has been a while…” He stopped for a moment, reminiscing about the time that you had known each other. “… and you really don’t know much about me.” You gave him a single nod. “Well, while we wait for the snow to fall I will entertain you with my story. W-well, i-if you want to hear it that is…” He stuttered as he enveloped your hand in his. “I would love to know more about you my dear, please, do tell me your story.” You said as Copia did gentle circles on the back of your hands.

“Si (yes), em, I am not exactly sure where to start if I am being honest…” He gave you a dry cackle.

“Maybe the beginning?” You teased and he laughed again.

“Vero, vero (true, true). You are completely right.” Copia smiled and then started his story.

“The first thing you must know is that I wasn’t always a demon. I imagine that you already knew that or you at least had thought about it. I wasn’t anybody important up there really, just an angel that helped with what they could. I was content, I really was, but inside of me there was something missing or better said, I felt like I lacked something essential to my very being. I didn’t know what it was. Then God created humans and everything began for me. I adored humans, I spent hours looking at Adam and Eve, observing their mundane lives in paradise. One day, they started something that intrigued me deeply. It is funny, I remember so vividly even today. You see, one afternoon Adam grabbed Eve by the hips and led her so as her back was pressed to the nearest tree, and then he started kissing her. When she jumped into him and he started thrusting into her I was completely hooked. It wasn’t only the nastiness of the act that entranced me, but also the feeling of closeness and love that they were sharing, pure and beautiful.” Copia stopped for a bit, gathering his thoughts. Your mind was racing at that point, you were so similar to Copia… it scared you so very much, but at the same time it made you feel like you belonged somewhere, with someone.

“I caught myself wanting to see them doing it more and more each time, their love and passion was contagious. I wanted to have that connection with someone. I know that angels aren’t supposed to have those sorts of feelings, it is not in us but I wanted it so badly that it intoxicated me to the point in which God found out about my lasciviousness. I was doomed, I felt that there was something wrong with me for wanting it and I fell. I wasn’t following God’s plans for me and she punished me for it. I was devastated but there was nothing I could do so I moved on. After a few years on Hell I was assigned to Earth… Hell itself isn’t the best place, I also felt like I didn’t belong there so maybe Earth would be the final destination, the place I could call home.” He stopped again to look at you. You smiled and he smiled back. It was ok for him to tell you all that, he knew, it was ok…

“I learned so much from humans, it felt like back when I was observing Adam and Eve. That curiosity gave me life, happiness and a a sense of purpose. One day, something happened to me, something I didn’t expect, I felt… infatuated… with someone. Her name was Sarah. She was one of the nicest humans I had met and to be completely fair the scriptures got our story all wrong. Sarah was engaged several times, but she wanted to be with me. I didn’t kill any of the suitors, I just nudged them away with some trickery. Well, then this guy came around, he was pain. Tobias or something I think his name was. He plotted alongside archangel Raphael to kick me out and bind me. In short, their plan worked, I was separated from Sarah and that is how I got to Egypt and how I met you in Alexandria. And that is mostly it, you know the rest.” As if on cue, snow started to fall and you both looked up to the skies, glowing with hundreds of little crystals that lighted the night.

“You were right” you sighed “I was going to like the snow.” Copia looked at you with a loving expression.

“Was it everything that you hoped for?” You looked back at his eyes, they were gleaming alongside the cold flakes.

“Even better… and…” you hesitated for a moment “I am sorry for what happened to you, it was unfair. If it is of any consolation, I yearn for some kind of connection too. When I get a bit of it I feel like a human that hasn’t drank water for days, I need it to live and I take and I take until I feel satiated. That feeling has been better since I met you though, so grazie (thank you).” You confessed and you can see tears forming in their eyes.

“Wow, you truly have a way with words mio caro angioletto (my dear little angel), and prego (you are welcome).” You nod, Copia nods back with a big smile and for a while everything stays silent, the only sounds around were those of the nearby animals crushing the falling leaves under their paws and the water sounds of a nearby brook.

“I forgot to tell you…” Copia breaks the silence “…when I fell I was given a new name thought I never liked it so I kept my angel name, Copia. As I was one of the earliest angels to fall, I became one of the Princes of Hell. My demon name is Asmodeous and I am the Lord of Lust.”

----

I didn’t make anything up but I had to pick Copia to be Asmodeous because you know this fic is about lust but it is so funny that he had beef with a man named Tobias!? Like I fucking cackled like a seagull when I found out, it was too perfect. ANYWAY, there is more content coming soon, probably later tonight with a couple of drawings for the Emeritus’ brothers hehe. Hoped you liked this chapter and as always comments and feedback are greatly appreciated. I am already writing a part three as well as a short side story with our obliviously-in-love couple and their shenanigans. Have a good one!

----

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[the-californicationist]

Guardian (excerpt from Chapter 4)

König stood outside of his quarters, shifting his weight from boot to boot, trying to decide when to knock. He shuffled around, walking back down the hall, feeling too close to the door and then too far from it. Maybe he should leave the food and retreat entirely? Would she find it before Horangi did?

“Klopf einfach an,” he muttered to himself, too loudly.

“König?” Her voice was dampened by the door panel, “Is that you? One second.”

He heard her jostling around in there. She turned the handle and pulled the door away from him. Seeing her standing there, dressed in what he had given her - along with a borrowed pair of socks that went all the way up to her knees - he thought he might pass away. The huge top extended past the nylon shorts, making it seem as if the shirt was her only covering. He could smell her. His shampoo. His soap. His scent lingered on her with his stare. The bedsheets were rumpled. She had been snuggled up in them, dressed in his clothes. He couldn’t move.

“Gott im Himmel,” he breathed the lowest, deepest growl of a whisper as he exhaled the breath he was holding.

He tried to recover as quickly as possible, smiling like an idiot as he handed her the sandwich and drinks. Even though he could hold all of the bottles in one hand, she had to awkwardly carry them in her arms as she tried to take them from him. She was saying something, thanking him perhaps? He couldn’t tell. He couldn’t hear anything except his blood rushing in his ears. A bottle fell to the concrete floor, and before he could get his head back on his shoulders to help her, she bent down away from him to retrieve it. 

Her shirt rode up, loose as it was, exposing her bare lower back. The shorts were small, even for her, and they left none of her thigh to the imagination. To his delight, freckles were littered all over them like a spattering of breadcrumbs leading directly up to her thick -

“König? Are you okay? Are you upset? What happened?”

The fear had returned to her voice. He was acutely aware that he still looked like a literal demon, and he tried to dismiss himself as quickly as possible,

“No, no. Everything is alright, Mauschen. Just wanted to fill you - feed you. Feed you food, and I will go…I will do paperwork, now. Right now.” Freud would be proud. 

“I thought you’d be able to stay here. Can you do the paperwork here?”

He was a wolf with its leg in a beautiful claw trap,

“Ja, natürlich.”

“This is so good, mmh,” she dug into the sandwich, getting a little mayonnaise on her cheek.

He sat in his tiny chair and opened his field desk. She licked a knuckle that had been smeared with tomato juice, sticking the finger into her mouth and sucking it clean. He found what was probably a pen and a piece of paper. It didn’t matter, since all he could think about was her. She finished one of the halves, sticking the crust past her lips and using her pink tongue to try and catch falling crumbs. He crushed the pen between his fingers.

“Scheiße,” he cursed under his breath. He found another pen.

She took no notice of him, too interested in her meal. He began his report. How do you begin a report? She moaned mid-bite,

“Oh, my God! I don’t know if it’s just the fact that they only fed me cold rice or what, but this is amazing.”

König was in physical pain. If she moaned like that again… He jotted down the date and time, along with a few bullshit facts about his recent insertion, and signed it at the bottom, sloppily. 

“I need to deliver this to the captain. Do you need anything else, Maus?”

She shook her head, her mouth full of chicken.

“Lock the door when I leave, bitte. Don’t open it unless it is me,” he paused, “or the captain.”

She nodded, visibly swallowing. Her throat - No. Stop it.  

“Where will you sleep? I’m so sorry to put you out,” she lamented genuinely.

He stood to leave, leaving her question unanswered. Towering over her, he peered down at her and saw that she still wore a small hint of mayo. He removed a glove and took her face in one of his hands, slowly rubbing the sauce away from her soft mouth. She gasped,

“Oh, shit. Mayo? I’m a mess, apparently.” She allowed him to clean it off fully, keeping her chin in his huge hand, blushing from embarrassment, “Thanks.” 

“Wenn ich länger hier bleibe, werde ich dich vögeln.” If I stay here any longer, I will fuck you. He smiled down at her, his eyes crinkling under the mask.

“Sorry, I don’t speak - is it German?”

He nodded, releasing her face, “Ja , Boarisch. But, still Deutsch, I guess. Just wishing you good night, Mauschen. I will come wake you for breakfast tomorrow.”  

He fled, closing the door tightly behind him, crushing the report in his ungloved hand. He didn’t leave until he heard the lock click. It wouldn’t keep anyone out, but it would make her feel safer at least. His boots pounded into the floor of the compound as he made his way to Captain Price’s office.

FULL TEXT ON AO3

[caffedrine]

Keith Howell - Chapter 01 - Summary

I pretty much have no idea what I'm doing. I don't trust me, and you shouldn't either. This summary is not guaranteed to be accurate, it's mostly written for myself to follow along with the route.

Just for fun, until Emma figures it out, or unless it’s from Keith’s POV, I’m not going to clarify which Keith is talking. Since Alter!Keith likes to pretend to be Nice!Keith, I feel like it loses some of the fun of guessing which one is in control if it’s too obvious.

He has nothing but regrets. The pounding rain drowns out his hoarse voice as his golden eyes focused on the red blood. The reality of the rain pounded on him mercilessly and he felt his body temperature lower. As if in a dream, he stretched out his hand.

No, no, no

He . . .

He-

He gripped his chest just above his heart where the pain was the worst, trying to endure it.

And then the pain stopped.

Alone in the forest, he crouched, ignoring the mud beneath his boots. He started to laugh, even though it didn’t fit the situation at all. What was wrong with him? If he had his mental breakdown earlier, this would never have happened.

Very slowly he stands, brushing back his wet hair. His eyes were sharp and cold, with the emptiness befitting a beast, and a smile on his face. He promises the failure that he will make his wish come true.

***

Permission was given to the foreign princes and their respective retinues for an extended stay in Rhodolite. The next day, Emma is invited to join Keith, First Prince of Jade, at a tea party. The table is lined with sweets and tea, and on the other end sits a very, very apologetic prince.

Keith apologizes for his rudeness towards her during the welcome ceremony. He was very upset, probably a little nervous . .. but honestly, he has no excuse. He knows it’s wrong and inexcusable to just grab someone’s face like that.

Emma recalls the very odd encounter they had on the balcony during the ceremony welcoming the three princes to Rhodolite. Keith had suddenly grabbed her and mocked her serious expression, asking if it was a sign that she wanted him to torment her. It had been like his personality had flipped.

Present-day Keith continues his apologies. If he was in her position and some 183cm hulking giant of a man had behaved like that to him, he would never forgive them. He’s really, really sorry.

And true to his word, Keith looks quite repentant. His large body was folded over in itself, somehow seeming smaller than Emma. His face is as pale as if he had fallen into the midwinter river. He has been like this for the better part of an hour, doing nothing but apologizing.

Emma cuts in and tells Keith that she has accepted every single one of his apologies, and she accepts that he is truly sorry. Why don’t they start over and pretend it never happened? Besides, she had also been at fault for staring at him impertinently. Emma continues – if Keith continues to apologize like this, she will worry that he thinks that she is incapable of letting go of bad feelings.

This entire situation is surreal. Her heart is heavy with all the apologies Keith has been giving, with the weight of him being a prince from a foreign country only making the situation more awkward. Keith seems to notice her discomfort and immediately apologizes for not taking Emma’s feelings into account when he initially apologized. Oh, and now he’s apologized again, for which is very, very sorry.

The air between them only gets more awkward as Keith realizes what he’s done. He and Emma stare at each other in frightened silence, before Keith breaks eye contact to look at anything else. His gaze lands on the untouched sweets on the tea table. He slowly picks up a plate and notes Emma hasn’t eaten anything yet. He offers her the plate of galettes, assuring her they’re tasty and should satisfy her. Emma accepts one, thinking that Keith is trying to change the conversation, and is grateful for it.

While she accepts the pastry, for the first time since they sat together, Keith removes his gloves. Emma takes a bite of the galette and marvels at the crunchy texture and the sweet and salty flavor.

When Keith had invited her to the tea party, Emma had come prepared to eat. What she had not expected was the storm of apologies that she had to wait through instead. However, it was nothing compared to what had happened earlier that morning.

When Emma arrived at Sariel’s office for her morning lessons, Sariel had an unusually grim countenance and told her that Keith had asked for permission to invite her to a tea party. Rio asks if Keith was the green one and the nicest seeming of the three foreign princes. Sariel tells Rio that the palace only has enough room for one Chevalier, and to not get into the habit of referring to people by colorful nicknames.  

Meanwhile, Emma was confused as to why Keith would invite her to a tea party. Sariel reminds her that both Gilbert and Silvio had expressed an interest in her, but he didn’t get the same feeling from Keith. So, he’s surprised and uncertain about this invitation as well. Rio asks Emma has any thoughts.

Keith did roughly grab her head during the welcome ceremony, but that wasn’t a reason to just invite someone to a tea party later. She, Rio, and Sariel discuss other potential reasons, but nothing really comes out of it. Eventually, they give up on guessing.

This situation is complicated since Jade wasn’t originally supposed to be attending the goodwill party in the first place. And now, the only reason Keith has given in his request to extend his stay in that both Benitoite and Obsidian are also staying. Sariel has no doubt that Keith has invited Emma to join him for tea for some reason they just can’t fathom.

Added to the complication is Emma’s fake backstory. As a noble daughter, even a low-ranked country noble, it would be weird if she refused Keith’s invitation. It would only make her stand out more, so she has no choice but to accept and attend his tea party.

Sariel warns her that while Rio is right, and Keith is the friendliest of all the foreign princes visiting with an easy-going reputation, he is still a prince. If he thinks Emma is related to his nation’s interest, he can and will become as ruthless as any beast.

Emma gets the point, her status as Belle, and therefore the death of the King of Rhodolite would be used as a bargaining chip to weaken the kingdom. She needs to brace herself to maintain her façade. Sariel reminds her that if anything happens, to report it immediately.

Rio promises to do everything in his power to support Emma. He won’t be far, so if she needs him just call out his name. That said, he would be just as happy if she would call out his name even if she wasn’t in trouble.

Keith pulls Emma back into the present, and she realizes that she’s been unusually quiet during her recollection. He asks if she doesn’t like the galette, her face looked unusually troubled.

Emma quickly tells him that she was simply surprised, she has never had a galette with a sweet-salty taste before. It’s really delicious and now she has to restrain herself from eating more. Keith looks happy and admits that this is his favorite treat. For the first time since they sat down together at the tea table, Keith smiles, like a blossoming flower. If she liked that pastry, there are others that she might also enjoy.

With a dazzling smile, Keith begins heaping more deserts onto Emma’s plate. His body looks big and awkward, but there is something so neat and diligent about how he arranges her plate. It’s unexpectedly cute.

As Emma bites into a cookie given to her by Keith, she sees that he also has his own plate overfilled with snacks. She asks Keith if he too has a sweet tooth.  Keith admits that he does, though he has nothing on Gilbert. When he had given the latter a box of sweets the previous day, Gilbert gobbled everything up and just handed Keith back the empty box, asking for seconds.

Emma doesn’t know anything about Gilbert and asks Keith if he himself is a big eater. Keith doesn’t think he’s that bad, but today with Emma, he feels like eating a bit more than usual.

Emma feels herself beginning to relax. Chatting with Keith is relaxing, and it feels like some sort of tension she has carried in herself has been healed.

Emma wonders about what happened back at the Goodwill Party, and Keith’s endlessly cold eyes. No matter how much she thinks about it, she can’t reason why he had been like that.

She realizes that Keith has been watching her for a while now. Even though his eyes are a calm, gentle gold, she feels unsettled by his gaze and wonders why he’s staring at her. Emma calls out his name, and Keith starts, his eyes flickering away briefly before they return to meet hers.

Keith’s unexpectedly straight gaze pierces her, and Emma finds her heart pounding. He abruptly stands up, walking over to join Emma on her side of the table. He asks if she has any troubles, and to feel free to tell him anything. Then, as if to prevent her escape, he grasps her hand.

Keith explains that he understands he was so rude that mere words of apology, or even an apology tea party is not enough to make up for his social gaffe. Emma had been so quiet during that time that he has no doubt she was terrified. So, to make up for his horrible behavior, he wants to do a favor for her. Emma insists that he doesn’t need to worry about it, she had also been impertinent towards him. Leaning forward so that all she can see is his face, Keith insists that she take him up on his offer.

Emma’s heart pounds at the sudden closeness, and she finds breathing a chore. She has no idea what she should do, until her gaze alights on the sweets still on the table.

Emma tells Keith that if he’s that insistent on making it up to her, then she would love to have another tea party with him. Keith looks surprised, so she continues. Emma loved the deserts he brought to the party, and it’s always more fun to enjoy them with someone than to eat alone. If, of course, it’s not a problem for Keith.

Keith considers the request carefully before smiling back. If that’s what Emma wants, he will be happy to oblige her. Of course, his offer to come to him with her problems still stands even with the upcoming second tea party. He would happily do anything to help her.

Letting go of Emma’s hands, Keith settles into the seat next to her, crossing his legs, all while watching her. Emma realizes that he has no intention of returning to his original seat.

Idly, Keith strokes Emma’s hair, pushing a strand behind her ear. He explains that her hair had gotten a little messy and asks if he surprised her. Emma stammers thanks, which Keith graciously accepts.

Sipping her tea to escape his gaze, Emma wonders at Keith. Considering how he was acting just a short while ago, it feels like his personality has taken an abrupt shift. Then again, maybe he was just a really friendly guy once he broke out of his shell?

All Emma has to do is survive this tea party with no complications. After she proposed the second tea party, Keith had gotten less pushy, so it should be easy enough. Right?

Jingle-jingle. As they return to the castle from their tea party, Emma and Keith find Silvio waiting for them near Emma’s rooms. Silvio complains that he’s been looking for her and had no idea that she would be with the dark bastard.

Keith asks if Silvio has some sort of business with Emma, and Silvio explains that during his stay in Rhodolite, he has decided that she is to be his host. He warns Emma not to refuse him, or has she forgotten what her butler did to him during the Goodwill Party? Normally having a glass of champagne dumped on him would cause an international dispute, but she should be happy. He’s giving her an opportunity to personally make up for it.

Emma wishes that this was some kind of joke, but that would be way too convenient. Just as she had successfully navigated the tea party with Keith, this of all things has to happen.

Keith had actually missed this entire sequence of events and asks Emma to explain. She quickly summarizes Rio and Silvio’s interaction. Afterward, Keith looks like he’s holding back laughter, and turns sympathetically to Silvio. He is happy that Silvio didn’t catch a cold, but if he’s feeling sick, Keith knows some medicinal herbs that would help. Emma is confused, why would Keith suddenly be talking about medicinal herbs?

Silvio tells Keith to stop looking at him like he’s pitying him, unless Keith wants to find himself submerged in the sea. Looking depressed and sad, Keith complains that he was just worried about Silvio’s health.

However, there’s a problem with Silvio’s request. Keith moves behind Emma and places his large hands on her shoulders. You see, Emma has already agreed to be Keith’s exclusive host during his stay in Rhodolite.

Silvio and Emma both look at Keith with dumbfounded expressions.

Emma does not recall this agreement ever being spoken of between them. Oh my, does this mean that Keith just lied to Silvo’s face? Suddenly she remembers Keith promising to help her out of any troubles during their tea party, and wonders if he’s doing this to help her.

Keith subtly nudges Emma, they’ve already made plans that cannot be changed, right? Still off guard, Emma gives him a vague ‘maybe’ response. Silvio catches on to that and Emma doubles down that she definitely, most certainly, absolutely did make that agreement with Keith.

Keith’s smile is satisfied, and he teases her poor memory. Emma feels the same way she did back at the tea party when Keith had sat next to her and prompted this conversation. There’s an undeniable force that pressures her into capitulating to him.

Silvio wonders what would prompt Keith to ask anyone for a favor. Or is Gilbert’s secret mistress surprisingly that popular?

Keith doesn’t think that Emma would be a good mistress for him. Rather, he would prefer having her stay by his side as his lover.

Emma gapes at him.

There is an awkward pause between the three of them. Keith looks back at Emma with a slight smile, and instead of feeling kindness, Emma feels like she’s being bullied.

Keith explains that Emma’s smile is like a blooming flower, soft and cute. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her during their tea party, especially on how she ate with that small, cute mouth.

Silvio and Emma gape at him.

Keith continues, what made him like Emma the most is when she stared at him for ten seconds while listening to a boring story from him. It was then that he decided that he wouldn’t be satisfied with just a tea party.

Of course, Keith also wants to hear all about Rhodolite, but the tea party sealed it for him – he wants to spend more time with her. Oh, how embarrassing this confession is! Keith hopes that Silvio didn’t overhear him!

Silvio assures Keith that he just said all of this out loud where anyone could hear.

Oh no! How embarrassing! Still, Keith won’t give up on Emma.

Silvio is staring at Keith like he’s spontaneously grown a second head. Emma doesn’t know what she looks like, but her face feels hot.

She wonders if this is some strategy to make Silvio give up on demanding she host him. But she’s not sure he will give up just because of this love (?) confession by Keith.

Oh no! Emma has now discovered the reason Keith is staying in Rhodolite! He’s very sorry, but he cannot let Silvio monopolize Emma anymore. Besides, does Silvio recall that product they were discussing earlier? Keith would be so happy if Silvio would forget about it and not sign that contract.

Suddenly, Keith grabs Emma’s hand and starts running away from Silvio.

They run until they reach Emma’s room, and stopping in front of it, Keith glances behind him. They don’t hear the sound of footsteps or even jingling, so it seems that they lost Silvio. Keith is pleased with himself for bringing up that contract, Silvio is probably dealing with that instead of chasing them.

Silvio is the kind of person who, once he decides on something, will carry it out until the end. If he really wanted Emma to host him, he would have made his move the moment he had received permission for an extended stay in Rhodolite. Emma thinks that Keith is correct.

Emma wishes that Keith hadn’t said all that, Silvio is undoubtedly going to misunderstand their relationship. Keith catches up to what she is referring to and explains that he was stalling for time until an opportunity to escape came up. Emma wonders if he was planning on making a run for it from the beginning, and thinks Keith is the kind of person who makes unexpected decisions.

Keith thinks that Silvio had been looking for a lie to catch Keith up in. But, unfortunately for him, everything Keith had said had been true. He squeezes Emma’s hand, which he had been holding since they started running from Silvio and lets go of her.

Flushed at this, Emma opens her mouth before deciding to change the subject. She thanks Keith, and he responds that he is happy that he was of some little assistance to her. Emma assures him that he was very helpful, imagining all the unreasonable things Silvio would have her do. Besides, with the ‘until I’m satisfied’ end point, she might have to host Silvio for months before she would be let go. Oh, but does that mean that Rio has to be burdened with Silvio’s demands instead? She will have to consult with Sariel.

Suddenly Keith looks straight at Emma like he has changed his mind. He tells Emma that he will see her again tomorrow. After all, if they don’t keep up the charade Silvio would kick down the door to Emma’s room again and demand that she feel honored in serving him. Keith apologizes for his help coming with extra work for Emma.

Emma can understand what Keith is getting at, even though the castle is large, if Emma doesn’t attend to Keith during his stay, Silvio will find out.

While entertaining and hosting Keith would keep her away from Silvio, it’s difficult to accept given Emma’s true circumstances. She is still uncertain as to his motives, and furthermore, he is a prince.

While she is grateful for Keith’s help, she must decline it after all. She can’t bring herself to bother Keith anymore. She understands that this will put her back into Silvio’s sights, but she will figure out a way to handle it.

Keith tells her that he really doesn’t mind spending time with her. He wants to get to know Rhodolite better, and it gives him a chance to make up for his previous rudeness. It’s a win-win scenario for him, and he gets to be of use to Emma. He steps closer, closing the distance between them.

For some reason, Emma’s heart begins to pound unpleasantly.

Keith doesn’t want to be a liar. He asks if Emma won’t reconsider.  

(Can you say no to this face?)

Under his gaze, Emma’s skin begins to itch. She had seen Keith smile plenty of times during the tea party, but right now his smile looks alien. It’s calm enough, but there’s something so cold about it that makes Emma feel like she will freeze.

Wondering at her discomfort, Emma looks into Keith’s eyes. It’s unconscious and unintentional, she doesn’t really want to know the meaning behind Keith’s new smile.

Keith’s eyes widen a little and then narrow. He has an expression like he has found something interesting. Emma feels like her body is in some sort of sleep paralysis, as if she can’t move. Suddenly there is a hand at her waist, pulling her close to Keith.

Keith tells her not to stare so intently at him. He’s a simple man and her gaze makes him self-conscious. Emma wouldn’t like that feeling either, right?

Tap, tap, Keith’s fingers shift against Emma’s waist. He whispers to her that she must not like it, and still feeling like she’s dreaming, Emma agrees.

Inches from her face, Keith whispers that he wants her to listen to him until the end. His fingers continue their gentle taps against her waist. Emma can feel Keith’s breath against her ear, and he asks her to tell him what he wants to hear.

Emma hurtles herself back and away from Keith, hitting the door to her room. Emma stammers out that she’s reconsidered her role as his host. Keith asks what is wrong with being his host, and Emma replies that she would love to, but she needs permission first. Keith lowers his eyebrows and takes a step forward, muttering what a shame this situation is. Emma is appalled at realizing that Keith’s actions and words are opposites.

To keep him from coming closer, Emma offers to go and ask for permission, and then tell Keith what the result is. Keith brightens up and admits that he got pushy when he thought she was outright rejecting him. He apologizes for behaving so poorly in front of her. The Keith in front of Emma has a calm and relaxed demeanor, and she wishes she was close enough to ask about this change in temperament.

Emma feels like she had dreamed of their weird interaction, but her heart is still pounding in her throat. It had been real.

Keith tells Emma that he is looking forward to her answer, and then leaves, taking the tension with him. When he is gone, Emma slides down her door.

She’s now in trouble. Emma needs to choose a new king without the visiting princes finding out that the current king is dead. And now the further complication of being Prince Keith’s exclusive host has surfaced. She will of course report this to Sariel, but she had no doubt that there is only one thing she can do. If she doesn’t host Keith, all it will do is change the target to Silvio.

Keith might have been trying to help her out of the goodness of his heart, and she shouldn’t doubt his intentions. On the other hand, due to her circumstances, she will always be on edge when dealing with people from other countries.

Since Jade is a neutral country, there is not a lot of information about it in Rhodolite. Emma should use this opportunity to broaden her knowledge of Jade, and it might be an opportunity to find out why Keith came to Rhodolite in the first place.

***

Can he have fun with that woman?

. . . hey, it's impossible.

Keith jumps as if he came out of a nightmare. He looks around the room, his room, hair sticking to his forehead in a cold sweat. He covers his face with his hands and falls back into the bed. That terrible voice he had just heard fades away.

Wait, what day is it today? How long has it been since they switched?

[swanpyart]

Spoilers for Guillermo Del Toro’s Caninet of Curiosities: The Outside

Honestly, as an autistic woman, that episode hit so close to home. The idea of having your own way of doing things and having weird interests and your own life with likeminded people but still yearning to fit in and be seen by those you see as “better.”

Stacy and Keith felt like an autistic couple who had a distant but still loving way of interacting with each other. Stacy’s has taxidermy as her special interest, can’t understand those around her, assumes her coworker would love a taxidermied duck despite it being seen as weird. And the whole episode was her trying to make herself “better” when she was fine how she was. Her husband fell in love with her as she is, and she kills him because she can’t accept it for herself, because she sees her existence as wrong. It felt like an autistic woman navigating a neurotypical world.

And the touching, and the sensory details. The episode felt so claustrophobic, like my worst nightmare with all of the women’s hands rubbing all over Stacy’s neck. How the All Glo lotion irritated her skin and made everything painful.

And that’s why he ending is so bitter for me. She gets what she wants, but it feels like she’s wiped away herself and essentially became neurotypical; she was no longer awkward, she understood completely what everyone else was talking about, and she was suddenly invested in workplace conversations that never interested her before. She traded everything about herself and her life to fit in.