#guess whose fucking fault it is in the end

[uraandri]

[fairydust-stuff]

Black Lagoon: Mr Chang, Sing Soo Ling

Balalikia watches coldly as her comrades pummel each of the insolent little brats. Sing sits there near tears protesting. 

“ For someone who claims to care about their men, you certainly didn’t hesitate to drag them into a hopeless situation” Chang said smoking his standard cigar. 

“ What was I supposed to do let Shorter go unavenged?” 

“ See, I don’t think this is about your dead cousin at all. If you were that devoted to vengeance. Then why ally with Ash in the first place?” 

“ It wasn’t Ash’s faul!” 

“ You know There’s nothing I hate more in this world then hypocracy. And you New York criminals seem convinced your shit smells like roses” he pauses  “ Your just a little boy chasing his idol around. Its not about justice or revenge.” 

The brat goes quiet as the truth is thrown so casually in his face. 

“ You gang members are so obsessed with your symbols” Balakilia taunted. “ Your guns and your leaders as these invincible gods” she lets her contempt bleed through. 

“ I was just trying to free Ash!” Sing protested  

“ What did you think would happen if word got out the Lee family couldn’t even control their own gang? Mr Chang asked him 

“ But that guy was destroying Chinatown thanks to him. Citizens couldn’t even walk safely in Daylight!” 

“ I’m sure that had nothing to do with you and Ash turning New York into a war zone,” Balalikia said sarcastically. “ You create chaos and the vultures crawl out to prey on the civilians  in the wake of the destruction… especially in a city already weak from destitution.” 

She pauses 

“ What do you think would happen to Chinatown if The Lee family got wiped out?   If you were luckily you’d get over run by one of the other gangs. If you weren’t it would be as if you and your boys had never existed”  

Sing blanches. 

“ Starting to get it are we?” Mr Chang asked him 

“ Sir please kill me if you must be spare my brother, Sing is still young he wasn’t aware” Lao comes forward and bows. 

“ Noble sentiment but your not my concern, Yut Lung will decided what to do with you” Mr Chang said. 

“ He’s going kill us” one gang member whimpered. 

  Balalikia grabbed the gang member by the throat and slambed him to the ground “  

“ Han!” 

Sing yelled he sprang up  just as Balakilia suspected . She smiled as she kicked him straight back down to the ground and grabbed him by the hair. “ You don’t deserve mercy” she said with a quiet mence 

“ You backstabbed your own leader, and nearly put him in the crosshairs of every twisted pervert in New York! ” she paused  “ If it were me, i’d have you choose which half of your guys die. You’d pick out every name and look them in the eyes, as my comrade's bullets found their  marks” 

Balalikia emphasized watching Sing’s eyes fill with terror. 

“ I think Mrs Balalikia put it best….” Chang smiled….

Yut Lung paused after his proposal  Revy and Shenhua on either side of him. 

Cain Blood looked at him  “ I don’t trust you, So ’m coming with you”  he starts for the limbo with a smirk “  Besides, I never rode in one of these things” 

Revy grinned. 

Yut Lung chuckles and opens the door for Cain “ After you Cain Blood” he replied. 

Cain slides in and reclines on the seats  “ Soft as a baby’s butt” he sighed. 

“Champagne?” Yut Lung asked as the driver offered them two glasses. 

“ You seriously think i’m going to drink something you prepared?” 

“ I think its mere tradition to seal the deal with a private toast” 

Cain sniffs and dips his finger in the glass. “ You’d have a way to mask the taste….better not risk it” he sets his glass down mournfully. 

“ Weak little girly drink, now Rum that’s a real fucking drink!” Revy exclaimed. 

“ I’m more of a cold beer guy” Cain retorts. “ What about you salaryman?” 

“ Anything you find at a bar, social drinking came with the job” Rock exclaimed. 

“ Its true” Revy threw her arm over Rock’s shoulder affectionately  “ This guy did a drinking competition against me once, straight up vodka.” 

Yut Lung nods as the driver starts the car before downing his own glass. 

“ Say how old are you?” Cain Blood asked  “ You look smaller up close” 

“ Does it matter?” 

Cain looked sad for a moment  “ No I suppose it doesn’t” 

Its not that long before they reach their destination. 

Yut Lung has one of his bodyguards remove a case from the trunk. Which he takes. 

Balalikia and Mr Chang greets him. 

“ Hello, Yut Lung you look slightly more sleep-deprived then usual,”  Chang asked  “ I see you brought Cain Blood” 

“I just want to make sure Sing gets freed, like Yut Lung Lee, promised” 

“ He has every right to be skeptical” Yut Lung interjects. 

“ Of course gentlemen this way” Balalikia leads them to Sing and his men’s cell. 

Yut Lung’s breath catches in his throat Sing is covered with purple bruises and  has circles under his eyes he’s paler then usual. His boys don’t look much better black and blue and battered. 

Cain’s eyes widen. 

“ Sing?” Yut Lung asked struggling not to ask how he is or offer ointment. He clears his throat “ Its come to my attention….that I was not fair to you and your gang” he pauses as Rock gives him a nod  “ So please accept this token as an apology” 

Yut Lung brings out the head of Dino Golzine from the steel case, ignoring the way his stomach is starting to turn at the sight of it. 

Several of Sings guys look shocked, A few turn green. 

Lao gapes  “ Is that?” 

“ I know you wanted to do it yourself. But Shorter was one of my men as well. So It wouldn’t be innaprorite for me to make this my gift to you. I’m hoping their won’t be anymore bad blood between us” he said casually. Then he holds open the jail cell door “ Your free to go Cain Blood will make sure you get…..” 

Cain rushes past him and steadies Sing  “ I gotcha, baby” he said. 

“ Cain….I think I fucked up” Sing said softly. 

“Shhh shhh its ok, lets get you out of Alcatraz and cleaned up” the older boy soothed. 

“ Before you take Sing one more thing” Yut Lung walks up to Sing and slaps him across the face. 

Lao rushes forward “ Furiously what are you…..” 

Yut Lung slaps him as well, and goes around and strikes each of Sing’s remaining men across the face.

 “ If any of you ever betray me again, especially in public…..I’ll make each of you dig your own graves…..before you lay in them….understood?” he asked feeling a bit better 

There are nods and voiced yes Sir’s. 

Then Yut Lung watches them all file out before following them….. 

[ryuseislilobsession]

Meant to say ‘baby’

Rin x fem!reader, sae x fem!reader

a/n: first fic, I hope u like it. Pls request..I will write anything!(jjk,mha,bllk)

Word count: 2849

warnings: angst, alcohol use, cheating/infidelity(reader), miscommunication, drunken confessions, toxic relationships.

The fight started just like all your other ones did. 

It went the same way

“You always choose soccer over me, Rin! I’m fucking tired of it!”

“It’s not like that!”

“It’s always like that!”

But this time things would end differently.

This fight was a little different, he had come home all angered and fussed about something. You asked if he was okay, a simple question but that seemed even too much for him. Because the moment those 3 words left your lips, it was like a whirlpool formed. He immediately started yelling things like, “Does it fucking look like I’m okay?!” You could barely remember the rest but they were practically the same shit.

You felt it was partially your fault since you did.m notice that the frustration and anger on his face was different to other days, but that still didn’t give him the right to treat you like shit!

So you obviously defended yourself, you both continued spewing random incoherent insults to each other before no words would leave Rins mouth, fist clenched, brows tightened. He shut his mouth, glared at you and stormed out of the house.

Fucking bitch. 

Oh the way you both loved and hated that man, but what good would come from being both burned and distinguished?

You sat in silence, your face feeling sticky from your tears, chest tight, fingers curled into fists. 

Then you heard that familiar annoying ringtone coming from your phone.

You didn’t bother looking at who was calling before declining. But again…

Ring!

For fucks sake..

You look at whose calling—and speak of the devil, it was your bf. Soon to be ex. 

You answer with a cold mutter, “what?”

“.M…so sorrry…” his voice slurred, thick with alcohol. “I luh you…m’sorry, okay? C’mon…please pick me up, baby…”

His words are slow. Drunk. Sloppy.

“Maybe you should go get a fucking soccer ball to pick you up—since it’s so much more important!” You hang up on him. It feels good.

Your about to lay your head down on the couch.

Ring!

You glare at your phone. The same name lights up the screen. You answer again, irritated.

“I’m not gonna fuc—”

“B-baby… please… ‘m so—so sorry… I love y’so much… won’ pick soccer again… promishe… pleaaase I—”

You tune him out. His words run together like spilled liquor, thick and meaningless. You don’t care to hear his empty promises.

“Just shut up and share your location.”

You hear a relieved exhale from the other end.

“Th-thank you, baby… I lo—”

You hang up.

You grab your keys—still fuming—and storm out the door.

You can’t even believe you’re actually doing this.

When your gps says your at the location, your eyes scan your surroundings and you see him slouched against a wall outside some bar, dazed, eyes red. 

You honk your horn grabbing his attention, his eyes light up for a second before sadness falls over them at the pissed look on your face.

He walks over and stumbles into the passenger seat. Barely buckled. You start driving, eyes on the road, jaw clenched.

He starts murmuring things under his breath, “so sorry, didn’t mean to be so inconsiderate.”

“Yeah?”

“I was wrong.”

“Heard that one before.”

“Was just scared..”

“Of what?” You start properly paying attention to what he’s saying.

“Was scared…if I wasn’t the best. You’d leave me..”

Your breathing stills, “but that didnt give you any right to talk to me like how you did today.” Your eyes start tearing up remembering all his harsh words.

“I know, thought saying things would make you understand how I felt. Dumb move…I’m a dumbass” he murmurs, you even hear small sniffling. 

“Yeah you really are.” You chuckle. “You’ll give me another chance..?” He asks, voice sounding hopeful. “Sure I guess.” You reply. You hear a sigh of relief before he responds.

“Thanks…love you so much, love you so much, Bailey.”

And just like that everything shattered. The breath gets punched from your lungs.

Your vision blurs with tears, but your hands stay steady on the wheel. You don’t speak. You just change course, to his older brothers house. Because no fucking way was a cheater going to be sleeping in the same roof as you.

You should’ve of known.

Maybe I’m the dumbass.

—————————————————————-

Your banging ont he door before you can even think. When it opens, Saes standing there in sweatpants, shirtless, clearly woken up. He takes one single look at Rin slumped over your shoulder—and your tear streaked face—and steps aside.

You sniffle a bit, “where should I-“ 

“I got him,” sae says, scooping Rin off you like he weighed nothing. 

Your left frozen in the Hallway.

He disappears into the guest room and comes back, finds you curled up on the couch, face buried in your hands. He walks over not knowing what to do, he sits next to you and awkwardly places a hand on your shoulder. “…what happened?”

You make eye contact with him, his eyes soften. And you break. Everything pours out. The fights. The way you’ve felt so small, so unimportant. Second to a literal game. The bar call. And finally—Bailey.

Sae sits beside you taking in everything you’ve just said to him, jaw tight. You can’t read the expression he has on his face. “Idiot,” he mutters. “He doesn’t know what he had.”

You look up at him and make eye contact once more, but this time it felt different… “had?”

His gaze darkens, “yeah, had.”

His hand reach up to your face, holding your cheeks and pulling you into a kiss. You find yourself melting into him, your body molding against his firm, muscular frame as you return the kiss with equal fervor. You felt a smirk crawl up into his lips and he pushed you firm but gently into your back, you could feel the cushions of the couch making it even feel more real. Was he going to take you? His brothers gf? While he was just a room away?

“Don’t think about him.” his eyes were locked on yours, with so much fondness and warmth. Like you’ve done this before. “Just me, only me.”

He leans down, trailing open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone and the delicate slope of your neck. His lips felt so familiar it almost hurt..

His hands moved down to roam over your curves, caressing and squishing them like he was trying to ingrave them into his head. 

He tugs at the hem of your shirt, breaking the kiss just long enough to yank it over your head and toss it carelessly aside. His gaze drops—and stays. You didn’t wear a bra. He huffs a quiet breath, almost a laugh. “Like you were expecting this..”

One hand slides down your stomach, slow, warm, familiar. His fingers dip under your waistband and slip into your panties. You can feel the heat of his touch even through the damp fabric, the heat below your stomach just intensified.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pants and underwear, slowly dragging them down your legs. He takes his time, savoring the reveal of your bare skin inch as if he was unwrapping a Christmas present. Once he has removed the last of your lower garments, he takes a moment to admire your naked form sprawled out beneath him on the couch. He tried engraving the image into his mind. 

You hear his breath catch when he looks at you, really looks at you.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he murmurs, his deep voice dripping with lust. 

"Rin didn’t deserve to have you." He leans down, trailing kisses along your inner thigh, his stubble lightly grazing your sensitive skin. You squirm beneath his touch, warmth already pooling heavily in your core. Sae smirks against your thigh as he feels it clenches.

His hands skim back up your body, unhooking your bra with practiced ease. He tosses it aside, revealing your bare breasts to his hungry gaze. He takes a moment to admire your hardened nipples, before leaning down to capture one in his hot mouth. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive bud, sucking and flicking until you're writhing with pleasure. Your fingers curl in the couch cushions as he shifts to the other side, giving it the same slow attention.

At the same time, Sae's hand delves between your thighs, his fingers brushing against your dripping folds. You gasp, hips rolling up toward him. His mouth never leaves your chest.

He groans against your breast as he feels how wet you already are. "So fucking needy," he murmurs, slipping a long finger inside your tight heat. He pumps it slowly, curling it to hit that sensitive spot deep within you. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing tight circles around the swollen nub, drawing out a small moan you couldn’t hold back.

His finger keeps pumping in and out of your dripping core while his mouth lavishes attention on your breasts. He can feel your walls clenching around his digit, your body desperate for more. Sae adds a second finger, stretching you deliciously as he increases the pace of his thrusts. His thumb presses down harder on your clit, rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves in tight, rapid circles.

Your moans grow louder, your back arching off the couch as the pleasure mounts. His fingers plunge deeper, curling to stroke that perfect spot inside you with every thrust. His lips and tongue worship your breasts, sucking and nipping at your nipples until they ache pleasurably. The combination of sensations has your mind going blank, your world narrowing down to the feeling of Sae's touch and the impending release building rapidly within you.

Sae feels your body start to tremble and tense beneath him, knowing you're close. He redoubles his efforts, fingers pumping furiously as he flicks and rolls your clit. His other hand slides down to grip your ass, kneading the soft flesh and tilting your hips up to take his fingers even deeper.

"Come for me," he growls against your breast, his voice rough with desire. "I want to feel you come undone, y/n. Let go." He curls his fingers just right, rubbing that secret spot inside you with unerring precision.

At the same time, he bites down gently on your nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain straight to your core.

You feel your climax crashing over you like a tidal wave.

You cry out, your inner walls clamping down like a vice around Sae's fingers as wave after wave of ecstasy washes through you. Your body convulses, back bowed, as you ride out the intense pleasure coursing through your veins.

Sae continues to stroke you through your orgasm, drawing out your bliss until you collapse back against the couch, boneless and sated. He slowly withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips to suck your essence from the digits. "Delicious," he purrs, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction and a hunger yet to be fulfilled. 

He then tugs his sweatpants down, freeing his large, hard cock. It springs up, thick and heavy, the thick shaft pulsing with need. He settles between your thighs, the head of his cock nudging against your sensitive, dripping entrance. He leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to claim you thoroughly. One hand slides into your hair, gripping it gently as the other grips your hip, holding you in place.

With a swift thrust of his hips, Sae sheaths himself inside you, burying his thick length deep into your tight, wet heat. A guttural groan tears from his throat at the feeling of your walls enveloping him like a glove.

He starts to move, thrusting in and out of you with deep, powerful strokes. The couch creaks beneath you with the force of his movements.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," Sae rasps, his voice strained with pleasure. He angles his hips to hit that perfect spot inside you with every thrust, determined to make you come undone again. His grip on your hair tightens, and he tugs your head back, exposing the column of your throat. Sae latches onto your neck, sucking and biting at the tender skin, marking you as his.

Your moans fill the room, growing louder and more wanton with each thrust of Sae's hips. The pleasure is intense, overwhelming, and you can feel another climax building rapidly. "Yes, just like that," you hear yourself moan, your voice breathy and needy. But the name that falls from your lips next makes Sae still, his eyes flashing with a sudden, intense emotion. 

"Rin..."

Everything stops.

Sae stills, a dark flash in his eyes. His jaw tightens.

His grip on your hip tightens, bordering on painful, and he starts to thrust into you with rougher, harder strokes. He pulls back—then slams into you, rough, unrelenting. “Say my name,” he growls. “Say it again.”

“Sae—”

“Louder.”

He tugs your hair harder, forcing your eyes to meet his. “You’re mine,” he snarls. “Fucking mine.” His hand slides to your throat—not choking, but firm, possessive. The couch shakes with the force of his movements, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room.

You cry out, breath ragged, body helpless beneath him. “I’m yours, Sae—fuck—I’m yours!” 

“Good girl.” His lips brush your ear. “Now scream it.”

"S- Sae!" you cry out, your voice hoarse and ragged from screaming his name. "I'm yours, all yours!" Your nails rake down his back, leaving red welts in their wake as you cling to him desperately. The new angle of his thrusts, the rough handling of your body, sends you even closer to the edge.

His thrusts grow faster, rougher, his thumb back on your clit, pushing you toward the edge again.

Your body starts to convulse, your walls fluttering wildly around Sae's plunging cock. “Come for me,” he whispers, biting down on your shoulder as he thrusts deep—once, twice—

And you shatter.

You come with a scream of Sae's name, your body shaking and writhing beneath him, coming undone completely around him.

Holy shit…what do the fuck did you just do?

The room stinks of sex, and you can feel Sae’s soft pants on your chest—but your heart beat is even louder. 

Shit, this wasn’t supposed to happen!

You shift slightly, pushing sae off of you a bit. He hums sleepily, glancing up at you. He holds your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. “Mmm..you okay?”

You don’t answer.

You get up and find your clothes scattered on the floor, quickly starting to dress. You move like your on auto pilot, trying to put everything on as quickly as possible. If you let yourself think, you’ll fall a part. 

Sae sits up, his hair messy, a slight furrow present on his face, “your leaving already?” 

You pause halfway through putting on your shoes. You tie your laces, and without looking at him, you reply, “yeah.”

He doesn’t even bother stopping you—just huffs and lays back down. 

Maybe that’s what hurts most. 

———————————————

(Next morning)

You hear a knock on your door, but you can’t be bothered to get up and unlock it. So you just sit and listen as the knocking pauses…then continues. It goes on like this for at least 10 minutes, until the aggravating sound pushes you to drag your tired body to the door. Your still in the same clothes as last night. 

You haven’t slept.

You haven’t showered.

And you definitely haven’t forgiven. 

You open it slowly, and there he is. Your boyfriend? Ex boyfriend? You haven’t officially broken up yet…

His eyes immediately scan your face, taking in your messy hair, your eye bags, slightly swollen lips. He shifts nervously on his feet before breaking the silence.

“hey.” His voice is quiet—unsure.

You don’t move, “your here.”

“Yeah,” he exhales, “I needed to see you, I needed to apologise—for the arguement.”

Your eyes well up with tears, he didn’t even remember what he said when he was drunk. 

You take a deep breath, make eye contact , and mutter a small, “who’s Bailey?”

He freezes—but not in a way someone who just got caught in the act would. But like someone who was genuinely confused. “What—baby I don’t-“ 

“I asked you who’s Bailey?!” You snap, you voice rising. 

A few tears roll down your cheek as your fists clench at your sides.

Rin shakes his head so fast it looked like it might fall off, “baby, I swear, I don’t know wh-“

You let out a dry, humourless laugh “Yesterday, You said ‘I love you, Bailey.’ So tell me—who the fuck is Bailey?!” 

His face shifts through a storm of emotions, then settles as realisation hits. You brace yourself, expecting him to start apologising or just plain out admit it. But instead, he says—

 “No-no, i meant to say baby not bailey.” 

You freeze.

He steps forward and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. “I’m so sorry for ever making you think I’d ever betray you like that, baby. I love you.”

Oh you fucked up…

[sgiandubh]

Games people play

An ephemeral (and now quickly deactivated) account went rogue and sent a prominent shipper blog a whole load of conversations between that person, who played friendly to the Other Side, and Caitony. You know, the staunch stalwart of the Remarkable Week-end Saga, who consistently insulted shippers in the most revolting fashion one can imagine. 'Crazy' and 'stupid' being almost terms of endearment, of course.

I shall not repost the six conversations that have been meticulously screen capped and posted. You can read them here, starting with this post, where the Rogue Operator explains her choice of releasing them: https://www.tumblr.com/auburncurlslass/781073024919207936/hello-shipper-this-message-is-not-about-me-sam?source=share

But a couple of lines from that scrambled dialogue of sorts gave me pause, and I have thoughts and questions, as always.

'Beijos em tenda'/'Kisses in the tent'. I know what I saw, that night, while dissecting that Taylor Swift concert episode frame by frame. Many shippers were doubtful, perhaps because almost twelve years of brutality made many wary of the consequences of being too open or too readily accepting. A culture of paranoia and permanent second-guessing was the necessarily logical consequence of collective bullying. Now one of the most revolting people on the other side confesses she saw exactly the same thing and that it annoyed the shit out of her. Understandable: Those Two Kissed. Not on the cheek.

So, here you have it: Caitony knows that very well. Is she the only one? Doubtful: many, if not all of them, know the same thing, for you can be sure conversations happened in those DM boxes, too,

Shipper Mom just confirmed: in the above context, a 'beijo' is virtually never on the cheek. Otherwise, it would have been an 'abraço' - just a hug, so to speak, which wouldn't have scandalized Caitony. Yet, this one seems to have traumatized her so much, that she felt the urge to remind her 'friend', in a different conversation, one of the arguments used by Mordor to explain C's questionable behavior, including (but not only) that night. Albeit, on a more ominous tone:

C is, according to Caitony, 'doida'/crazy and 'bebe muito'/drinks a lot'. Yes, this is in the context Caitony finally spills the tea about her very seriously shipping C and Tobias Menzies, which is amusing, to say the least. Later on, she even speculates on Blonde Bambino being Tobias' son: ugh, nobody seems to like McGill, or what?

I have always known the entire Greek Chorus of sopranos, minions and clones were always spinning the same two arguments in a gradual miscellanea of insults and fighting words because what I post often made them feel uneasy (a #silly understatement). But now, here is evidence:

You know, they love and respect her so much, that they are readily throwing her under the bus the very moment she does not conform to their scenario. It's 'exclusivamente culpa dela'/'exclusively her fault', because you are just a sad and lonely woman, who has a parasocial relationship with a perfect, lionized stranger. And wow, how hard must reality sometimes bite, to make you veer dangerously close to our shores: 'tem horas que acho Tony um verdadeiro fantoche'/'at times, I think Tony is a real puppet'. You don't say, darling...

Of course, S is (according to Caitony) a gay man whose partner is Norouzi, which doesn't really come as a surprise, since this is what the Screeching Banshees have been insinuating for years, now. I have debunked enough of it, even showing how they tinkered with Wikipedia, to insist on this nonsense.

What is really interesting, though, is this very recent convo with Caitony, where she touches a very sensitive issue, all the while telling her 'friend' she was disillusioned and quitting this toxic madness:

Fucking fun, too, to read her defining C's marriage as a 'farca necessaria'/a necessary sham (but is this the same woman seeing McGill in Dublin, recently? Oh...) and openly mentioning 'divorcio'/divorce. Not once, but at least twice:

She even expects it to happen (really?), but thinks it's not the case, yet. How peculiar, really!

And, perhaps the most telling of everything, here is what she really, honestly wants for C's new movie, just because she thinks C needs the money and this is why she lies to her true fans:

'Quero que ela flope esse filme'/I want her film to be a flop'.

Not a fucking ounce of fucking shame. A cara nem treme.

I am not sorry for the length. Credits given accordingly, with the amendment the informer deactivated her blog, supposedly because she was afraid of Caitony going after her. I can also tell you that this informer followed my page for an hour, before changing her mind and choosing to post elsewhere. I am glad she did spill the tea.

'No boundaries. No respect. No class.'

In the meanwhile, we are preparing our trip to Paris, where we will make sure to tell C how good she is at what she does. I am not going for her. I am going because I want to hug and talk to all the people who will join our merry company. Because this is what a fandom is for: a facilitator for like-minded people to meet and become friends, not a cesspool of madness. I'll give Caitony that involuntary honesty.

[pool-spidey]

The thing about the Ice Box was it could make your skin crawl just thinking about it, let alone being its inmate.

Still, Wade couldn’t really say he regretted ending up in there; given the chance, he would’ve blown off that fucking pedophile’s head a hundred more times. But needless to say, his first mission under the X-Men’s wing didn’t go as smoothly as planned.

What Wade remembered best from being arrested wasn’t the sensation of this fucking collar being clasped over his neck, and his body revolting against the cancer joining the party once again. What carved into his memory even more were Peter’s screams, telling the motherfuckers to get fucking off him, take that shit off, you’re gonna fucking kill him; backing it up with some punches thrown with what could only be taken for a mutant strength.

Needless to say, that got him arrested, too. Which was exactly what he wanted.

And what made up all the regret Wade had about what he’d done.

Wade remembered vaguely joking that it was not exactly how he imagined getting away with Peter for that vacation at last, but it’d have to do. Being taken to the mountains, getting matching outfits and all that.

And he remembered that Peter didn’t laugh.

As the door of their cell locked behind them, Wade had to sit down, but Peter started to pace up and down the small space. Wade’s eyes followed him like he was watching the tennis match.

Peter unzipped his yellow prison garb and let it loose around his legs, revealing a white undershirt, same as Wade had underneath.

It made the collar on his neck even more visible and Wade felt rage crippling through his cancer-ridden body.

“You, fucking stop it.”

Peter froze in place and looked at him.

“What?”

“Wolverine was supposed to be the only one looking this good in a wife beater. So you better fucking stop it.”

Peter snorted, a shadow of a smile on his lips. It sounded a little bit relieved and a little bit more like he wanted to cry.

“You forgot Freddy Mercury,” he said, walking up to sit beside Wade. He left no space between them and Wade took the chance to rest his head on Peter’s shoulder.

He quickly sat back up though, feeling that Peter was shaking. He pressed a hand to his face, covering his eyes and leaving no doubt now that he was crying.

“Hey… what’s up?”

“I’m so sorry, Wade.”

“What? Why?”

He took a hand off his face and looked at Wade, whose heart immediately smashed to smithereens at the sight of sadness overflowing his eyes along with the tears.

“I talked you into this X-Men shit… If you weren’t there…”

“Hey, boo, stop it. Really, life would always find a way to fuck us stiff bareback, don’t you know it? Stop crying, this is not your fault.”

“That’s not why I’m crying.”

“Then why?”

“Cause you’re…” he started in a tone like he couldn’t believe Wade had to even ask, but then cut it abruptly and said something else than he’d intended: “Cause you’re in pain.”

Cause you’re dying.

Vomiting felt like all of Wade’s insides were going out – or rather wanted to, but couldn’t.

All he had inside of him was pain, and it felt like Wade was the one his body was fighting, not the cancer.

He wiped his mouth with shaking hand and used the rest of his energy to get away from the toilet and crawl a meter away of it, towards his pallet. Peter was sitting by it on the floor, waiting for him to come back and lay his head on his lap. Which Wade did, curling on the floor and burrowing half of his face in Peter’s thigh. Peter gave him his hand and Wade took it with both of his, pressed it to his chest like he was a child squeezing a teddy bear. The other hand Peter laid on his head, petting it slowly, like he was a mother of said terrified child.

“Here we fucking go again, I guess,” Wade groaned.

“Only the first time you fled on me, remember?”

“Yeah. And I’m sorry.”

“And you’d do it again.” There was no accusation in his voice; there was only the warmth in his hands.

“Probably, yeah.”

It wouldn’t be like them if they didn’t get into even bigger shit than they were already in.

It was the first time they were in prison cafeteria, poking around for something edible among the crap they had on their platters. They were sitting alone by their table, face to face, and Wade was trying to imagine that Peter was the only one out there, the only person in a thousand miles radius; lines of his bare biceps like a balm for Wade’s aching insides.

It took him a good minute to notice the group approaching them.

“I’ve seen you earlier, pretty face.”

Black Tom didn’t look as much of a threat. And maybe it wouldn’t have ended so badly if he didn’t touch Peter.

“Thanks, I was thinking about acting, actually.” In his current state, Wade wasn’t that much of a threat either. But least he could do was try to keep their attention on himself.

But they didn’t take it, told him to shut the fuck up – they’re talking to the twink right here.

“Your name here’s gonna be Gentle Mouth…” Black Tom said, putting his dirty paw on Peter’s face.

There were plenty of times before when they were in danger, when they were dealing with far worse than fucking Black Tom and his boys.

But all these previous times were different.

Now Wade couldn’t fight them and he knew it.

So maybe that was why his eloquence left him high and dry, and the only way to let out his rage as he saw Peter stiffening under Black Tom’s touch, was noncreative and point-blank:

“Keep the fuck away from him.”

“Why, he’s your bitch?”

“I am his.”

“Oh shee-it!” Black Tom smiled, turning to Wade. “I see you’ve got something in your teeth. His pubes?”

“Jealous much?”

You moron, Peter would tell him later, all resigned. Couldn’t you keep your mouth shut for once? I was trying not to provoke them.

In exchange for what he said, Wade got some laughs, and a nudge in the gut from Black Tom; which combined forces with the cancer and was enough to leave him breathless.

And as for Black Tom, what he got in exchange was Peter’s platter right to his fucking face – a beautiful hit that set both Black Tom and Peter’s untouched excuse for a meal flying around in all directions.

After that it went painfully and fast, and soon enough they were all escorted roughly to their cells, Peter helping Wade walk to theirs, almost carrying him. 

As soon as they were in, Wade would’ve collapsed right then and there if Petter didn’t make the extra effort to lay him on the pallet; to put the pillow under his dizzy head.

Then he lay down behind him, hugging him gently; somehow holding Wade in place – this bundle of different pains all stitched together.

Peter was also beat up, even worse than Wade given the fact that this whole fight was practically him just trying to keep others away from Wade who was only lying there on the floor and getting kicked. But he took it better; even the last part when he just clung to Wade on the floor, shielding him with his body; taking the kicks to his own ribs.  

Now Wade was glad to be the little spoon – he didn’t have to see Peter’s bloodied face.

“Sorry,” he said. “I know you didn’t want to provoke them. But I just…”

He didn’t know what to say, so he stopped, the pain and the blame getting the best of him. And for a moment Peter wasn’t saying anything, but then Wade felt warmth on the back of his head, so gentle, and again. And again.  

Peter kissing him there.

“It’s okay,” he said quietly, and held him closer. “I’m just sorry you’re hurt.”

Not long after – and not a moment too soon – Cable was there, fucking the shit up and chasing a fourteen-year-old.

It came pretty much without saying that Peter and Wade were gonna help the kid. That is: it came without saying for Peter, so also for Wade.

Some plain old chaos and ass beatings were involved, during which Cable’s fuckass weapon fired right into Wade’s collar, breaking it just in fucking time for Wade to survive his not so pleasant fall on a table which practically broke him in half.

He had a moment of a black out, and the last thing he heard before it was Peter tearing his throat on Wade’s name as he watched him fall.

Wade was glad it didn’t end up the last thing he's heard in life; and also that it wasn’t the last image of him burned into Peter’s mind.

Not his best look, for sure. Also, breaking a spine? Wade wouldn’t recommend.

But what came after was, not to exaggerate, motherfucking awesome.

Welcome back, superpowers.

After that it went pretty fast.

X-Men showed up in their hovercraft to check up on the fuckery that was going on there. They were too late to meet Cable, but at least they gave Peter, Wade and that kid Russel a lift.

And Yukio, that sweet girl, took the collars off of Peter and Russel as well.

During the flight, Peter gave them a piece of his mind about not doing anything to prevent the mutants from being held in such conditions, and not coming earlier to prevent Wade from dying there of cancer. Wade sat there with his head on Peter’s shoulder, listening with a smile to him telling Colossus where he could shove his rules.

Russell was taken to the X-Men mansion and soon enough Cable showed up for him; but there he met Wade and Peter.

There was some talking and some more beating the shit out of each other, and also some more shooting, but eventually they came to terms.

They made raid on the facility where Russell had been held and abused. They killed some pedos together, and in the end it was Dopinder, sweet sweet bloodthirsty Dopinder, who ended that fucking turd of a director of that dump; not Russell.

Orphans were saved and friends were made, and Russell stayed at X-Men mansion, while Cable came back to his loved ones.

Peter and Wade also came home – to spoon, finally, in their own bed.

Being even more of the ­f-word than before.

[smilingformoney]

Champagne Problems

Chapter 3. Paris

Lionel/Reader

Summary: In 1989, Sinclair reunites with an old friend; in 1971, Lionel has a romantic surprise for you.

Word count: 10.9k

AN: shout out to @evans23 for helping me with the French!

All chapters here!

Read on Ao3 or WattPad or below the cut:

1989

“Hello? Earth to Lionel?”

Sinclair waved his hand in front of his cousin’s face.

“Hm?”

“What’s got into you? You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said all evening.”

“No, of course I have,” Lionel lied.

“Then what was I just talking about?”

“Erm… wedding plans?”

“…Lucky guess,” Sinclair muttered before taking a sip of his beer. “Look, I know you don’t like Natalie very much, but can you at least pretend to be happy for me? I’m finally getting married!”

“Of course I’m happy for you, Sinclair. I’m just preoccupied, that’s all. You’ll never guess who I found selling picture frames on Cornelia Street.”

Sinclair shrugged. “Dunno. James Callaghan?”

“[Y/n] [L/n].”

“…Wait, like your ex [Y/n] [L/n]?” Sinclair gasped. “Oh my god! I had no idea she was in London. What do you mean, she was selling picture frames?”

“Exactly that. She owns a shop that sells picture frames. I hired a PI to find her, it took him over a month, and she was down the road the whole bloody time.”

Sinclair stammered, overwhelmed by questions to ask. “Why did you hire a PI to find her? Did you speak to her? What did she say? Is she —”

Lionel held up a hand to cut Sinclair off before he asked any more questions.

“I wanted to find her because… well, it doesn’t matter now. It was completely foolish. She wasn’t happy to see me.”

“Well… are you surprised? Things didn’t exactly end well, Li.”

“And whose fault is that?” Lionel snapped.

Sinclair frowned and titled his head slightly. “Do you really not know?”

Lionel crossed his arms and sat back in his seat, sulking.

“It doesn’t matter anyway. She kicked me out. I thought that’d be the end of it, but… god, I forgot how invasive she is. Like a weed. Takes root in your mind and stays there. It was the same when we met, do you remember? I knew nothing about her and yet I couldn’t stop thinking about her for weeks.”

Sinclair smiled, a cheeky, knowing smile, and Lionel knew exactly what that look meant.

“No,” he said firmly.

“You’re still in love with her! Oh, Lionel, that is adorable!”

“Fucking pathetic is what it is. I’m a mighty lion, and what is she? A weed. A stubborn bloody weed that won’t leave my head.” He tapped the side of his head to demonstrate the point, as if he could push you out. “Maybe I just need to get laid, put her out of my mind.”

“Absolutely not!” Sinclair said firmly. “You listen to me, Lionel Shabandar. I have never, in all my life, seen you as happy as you were with her, or as miserable as you were when it ended. You were both kids, and you fucked up. But that was almost twenty years ago! You’re different people now! You should try to reconnect with her. At least… at least hash things out. You clearly still have feelings for her, and she must do too if she was so upset at seeing you again. If you got back together, that would be amazing, but at the very least you can talk and get some closure.”

Lionel hesitated, thinking, then shook his head.

“No. No, it’s no use. It’s over.”

- - -

“We’re closed,” you said, not looking up from your stock report as you heard the bell ring. “Sorry, I forgot to lock the door. Come back tomorrow.”

“You know, you’d get more business if you stayed open an hour longer, then you’d get customers coming by after work.”

You looked up, frowning, wondering where the hell the unsolicited business advice was coming from.

Your frown deepened for a moment, then was completely erased and replaced with a joyous grin.

“Oh my god, Sinclair! Hi!”

You tossed your report aside and jumped up from behind the counter, practically running around it to meet him on the shop floor and give him a massive hug.

He laughed and hugged you back, rocking you from side to side slightly in excitement.

“Well, that’s a greeting! I wish everyone was always so happy to see me!”

You pulled back and looked at him. He was older, of course, but he still had a sort of youthful exuberance to him. His smile lit up his face, and he was quite possibly the very antithesis of his cousin.

“Oh, look at you! I missed that smile. How are you?”

“I’m great! I’m working as a business analyst now, which basically means I get to tell people what I think’s going to happen, and they pay me loads for it. And — the best news — I’m getting married soon!”

“Oh wow, that’s amazing! I’m surprised you’re not married already, you’re such a catch. Did things not work out with Emily? You were so enamoured with her!”

“Emily, wow, I haven’t thought about her in ages. No, we broke up during third year. She didn’t like how much time I was spending preparing for my exams instead of with her. Anyway, I didn’t come here to talk about Emily.”

You looked at him suspiciously.

“If Lionel sent you…”

“No, no! I mean, he told me you were here, but he didn’t send me. I sent myself. When he told me he’d found you, I simply had to come and see you! I really missed hanging out with you, you know. I understand why you didn’t want to see me after what happened with Lionel but… it really sucked that I lost a friend.”

You smiled. You’d forgotten just how genuinely endearing Sinclair was.

“Sinclair, you are such a cutie. We should absolutely hang out again.”

“Yes!” Sinclair agreed, bouncing on his feet with excitement. “I’m glad you said that, because I wanted to invite you to a picnic this weekend! I have my own place out in Windsor. It’s got these really big open gardens, and I love hosting picnics. You should come! We can catch up, and you can meet Natalie! Are you with anyone? You can bring a plus one, if you like.”

“No, I’ll come on my own,” you said quickly. “Um — will Lionel be there?”

“Oh — oh, no, Lionel won’t be there. Sorry, I should have mentioned that. No, he’s busy this weekend, so he can’t make it. So you’ll come then?”

“Yes! Yes, of course. Just give me the time and place, and I’ll be there.”

Sinclair grinned. “Great! This is gonna be so fun!”

- - -

Sinclair’s house was absolutely beautiful. It wasn’t quite as massive as his childhood home, but it was still huge, and you could see what he meant about the gardens. He clearly felt safe there, because when you approached the door it was wide open — something that nobody of sound mind would ever do in London.

You followed the sound of voices through the house and found yourself stepping through a very leafy conservatory and emerging in the open garden, which led down to a riverbank.

Sinclair was easy to find. His voice was the loudest, the most animated, and his boisterous laugh was like a homing signal, letting everyone in a two-mile radius know where he was and that he found something very funny.

He was standing with two women and a man, and he jumped slightly when you tapped him on the shoulder, but he grinned when he realised it was you.

“[Y/n], at last!”

He put an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into the little circle.

“Everyone, this is [Y/n]! She and I go way back. [Y/n], this is David and Laura. David works with me, in the finance department. And this lovely lady is my fiancee, Natalie!”

The first thing you noticed about Natalie was that she was very pretty. The second thing you noticed was that she was very clearly nothing like Sinclair. She held herself almost timidly, like she was afraid to take up space; unlike Sinclair, whose energy naturally filled any room he was in.

“Hello,” Natalie said with a polite smile, although you saw her eyes flicker to the arm that Sinclair had flung over your shoulder.

Bless him, he hadn’t changed much. He was still loud, still full of energy, and still totally oblivious. He didn’t think anything of putting his arm around another woman, because the other woman was you, and the possibility of there being anything between you was hardly even an idea in his mind. Even though you were long broken up, you’d always be Lionel’s girlfriend to him, and as far as he was concerned, you were like a sister.

“I was just telling the story of how Natalie and I met! I’ll start again for your sake, [Y/n]. So it was last winter, we were interviewing for new secretaries…”

Eventually, David and Laura managed to extract themselves from the conversation, and Sinclair turned his attention to you.

“Right, [Y/n], now I have you trapped at my home. Ha ha! All part of my evil plot to know every single thing that’s happened in your life in the last seventeen years. Come on, sit down!”

He led you over to the riverbank, and along the way he grabbed a picnic basket to share with you. You weren’t sure he’d even noticed Natalie had wandered off several minutes ago.

“You sit,” he instructed, indicating the edge of the river. “I’ll pour.”

You sat cross-legged by the river, and Sinclair sat with his feet dangling over the edge, the picnic basket between you. He pulled out a bottle of wine and two glasses, and you held the glasses up for him as he poured the wine and rambled on about the vintage.

“Here we are! Cheers!”

“Cheers.”

You clinked glasses and took a sip; Sinclair took a generous gulp.

“Help yourself to some snacks! You can have anything that’s in there. So, come on, tell me! What’s your life been like? How did you end up selling picture frames?”

You looked at him with curiosity. “You know, Lionel asked me the same thing.”

“Well, it’s an interesting question!”

“He made it sound like an insult.”

Sinclair grimaced. “Yeah, I suppose he would… well, I’m just curious, I promise. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with selling picture frames at all. Without people like you, what would he put his art collection in?”

“I suppose that’s true,” you said with a laugh. “Art’s actually how I got into it. My — someone I know is an artist, and we discovered frames are usually just one section of a bigger shop, so the options on display were limited. You could look in a catalogue for more, but you really need to see it in person to get the sense if it’s right or not. Dad’s cafe’s doing really well — he has four branches now — so he was able to give me a business loan to open my own place. I saw frames as a gap in the market, so… here I am.”

“That’s amazing! You always did have a good business sense. And, hey, if you ever need anyone to have a look at the picture frame market and make some predictions, I’m your man!” Sinclair decreed, pointing to himself for emphasis.

“Thanks, Sinclair, I’ll bear that in mind. And, hey, if I’m feeling generous, I might give you some free frames for your wedding photos.”

“Oh, that’d be amazing! But you should offer a discount to friends, not freebies, because then you still get to at least get the base costs back, and they still feel like you’ve done them a favour. So anything else? Like… a boyfriend? Husband? Kids? This is me asking, by the way, not Lionel. He doesn’t even know you’re here.”

You laughed. “No, I’m not married. Turns out I have trust issues, who’d have thought?” You shrugged. “I’m in no rush. I believe in the right thing happening at the right time.”

“Like when Lionel went for a smoke outside the art block at the right time! Or when Mum and I decided to try that cafe in Basingstoke at the right time. ‘Cus then I met you!”

“Oh, how is your mum, by the way?”

“She’s great! She lives in London now. She remarried! Her husband’s great, he’s filthy rich too so we know he’s not using her for her money. They’re always going on cruises. Lionel has the country house, the one you came to, he uses it for his art collection and to host galas and stuff.”

“And Georgina?”

“She’s… okay,” Sinclair said with much less certainty. “She’s in a care home now. Mentally she’s fine, sharp as ever, but she got MS a few years ago so she doesn’t walk anymore. But Lionel and I put her in the best place, she’s basically living in a luxury spa resort. Says she likes it better ‘cus she gets waited on hand and foot, and she doesn’t have to deal with us anymore.”

You reached over and took your hand in his. “I’m sorry, Clair. Even if she’s in a good place, it’s hard to watch someone you love get sick like that.”

Sinclair nodded and gave your hand a grateful squeeze. “Thanks, [Y/n]. You know, I… I really have missed you. I didn’t even realise I did. Does that make sense? It’s like, I got used to you not being there, and you just became an old memory, but as soon as I saw you again it was like no time had passed at all, and I remembered why you were so important to me. That time we spent together, the three of us — it was amazing. I think it really helped shape who I am.”

He sighed and shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry it all got so messy in the end.”

“Nothing that happened was your fault, Sinclair,” you said softly. “It was mine and Lionel’s mess. You just… got caught up in it.”

“But I should’ve —”

“Oh, would’ve, could’ve, should’ve, Clair,” you said dismissively, pulling your hand away from his to open up the picnic basket and root around for a snack. “What’s done is done. Have you got any cheese in here?”

- - -

1971

You’d spent the first few weeks of summer wondering if you’d ever see Lionel again — and now, you were spending every day with him.

You went into London together often, or you’d go to his place, where you were able to spend more time with Sinclair too. Their mums were busy working so you didn’t see them as much, but whenever either of them would come home and find you were there again, they were always glad to see you.

As it turned out, rich people have a lot of parties, and they didn’t mind extra guests coming along. You found yourself at parties every week, sometimes multiple times, hosted by people Lionel hardly even knew, let alone you.

In the middle of August, Lionel called you while you were at home for once on a Thursday and told you to pack a bag for the weekend, and to bring your passport.

“…Why do I need my passport?”

You could practically hear the smug smile he was sporting on the other end of the phone.

“Well, they won’t let you into France without it.”

You couldn’t believe it. He’d actually arranged for you to go to Paris. When you phoned your dad to tell him you couldn’t visit that weekend, he was disappointed, but he was happy for you.

On Friday morning, Lionel met you at your house. You’d agreed to be ready to go at 8 o’clock — but you had no idea he was picking you up himself. He usually sent cars to pick you up, but this time, he knocked on the door at 8 o’clock sharp.

Realising he was actually here himself, you ran down the stairs with your suitcase to try to get to the door yourself, but your mum had already beaten you to it.

“Good morning. I’m here to pick up [Y/n].” Lionel spotted you at the foot of the stairs and his eyes lit up. “Hi, [Y/n].”

“Hi. Mum, you’re in the way.”

“So this is the boyfriend?” your mum said curiously, completely ignoring your attempts to get around her with your bag as she looked Lionel up and down. “You’ve done quite well for yourself there, [Y/n].”

“Mum! That’s so weird! Just — let me through, please.”

She finally backed off, and you practically jumped at the chance to get past her and join Lionel on the doorstep.

“Back on Monday, bye,” you said quickly.

“Be safe!” your mum called after you as you followed Lionel back to the car.

You gave your bag to the waiting driver to put in the boot, then climbed into the back with Lionel.

“Sorry, she is so embarrassing,” you cringed, but Lionel just laughed as he took your hand in his.

“Are you ready for Paris?”

“Oh, I am so ready. Are we still going to the Orsay?”

“Of course. That’s tomorrow’s agenda. I’ve booked us a hotel, so we’ll check in after we land, then we’ll go out for some food and drinks. Tomorrow the Orsay, that’ll take most of the day, I imagine — then we’ll have all of Sunday to ourselves.”

“Have you been to Paris before?”

“Yes, quite a few times, though I’m yet to go to the Orsay. I’ve been wanting to go for a while. I was planning to go by myself this summer, but… I’m happy I get to go with you by my side.”

You smiled and kissed his shoulder. “I’ll be by your side for everything, Li.”

- - -

Your hotel room wasn’t so much a hotel room as an entire apartment. There was a bedroom, a separate living area, a kitchenette, and the bathroom even had a jacuzzi in it.

“Lionel, this is too much!” you gasped as you looked around the apartment. “We don’t need all this for just us.”

“Nonsense. Nothing’s too much for you, and it has a stunning view. Take a look.”

Lionel took your hand and led you to the balcony, which overlooked Paris, and he placed a hand on your waist as he pointed out various landmarks by the Seine.

“It’s a beautiful view,” you agreed.

“It’s even more beautiful from my perspective, because my view has you in it,” Lionel said flirtatiously. He gently pushed your hair away from your neck so he could kiss the bare skin.

“You are such a smooth talker,” you laughed. “You don’t have to seduce me, you know. I’m already — I already like you.”

“I’m just stating facts.”

He kissed further down your shoulder, and you relaxed into his touch.

“When are we having dinner?” you asked.

“Whenever you like. Are you hungry now?”

“Not quite. I’d actually like to try that jacuzzi.”

Lionel grinned. “You read my mind, love. I’ll warn you, though, I haven’t brought any trunks… and I may have omitted to ask you to bring a bikini.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes. “Cheeky. Well, then, I guess we’ll have to go without them, won’t we?”

Lionel growled in excitement, and eagerly led you back into the apartment, already unbuttoning his shirt. He went into the bathroom to fill the jacuzzi up, then came back into the room as he pulled his shirt off.

As he carefully folded it up, you leant against the wall and watched him. He was so gorgeous. He had no hair on his chest, and though the first time you’d seen him shirtless he’d expressed some self-consciousness about it, you assured him that you’d never liked hairy chests, anyway.

“You’re not going into the jacuzzi fully clothed, I hope,” Lionel said with a smirk when he glanced up at you and saw you watching him.

“No, of course not. I just wanted to enjoy the view first.”

“Well, I’d like a view to enjoy in return, please.”

You smiled coyly. You pulled your t-shirt over your head and discarded it; knowing Lionel was always eager to see you get your boobs out, you decided to tease him a little, and left your bra on while you unbuttoned your trousers instead.

“I’ll meet you in there,” you said with a wink, then disappeared into the bathroom before taking your underwear off. The tub was still filling, but you climbed in anyway, letting the hot water climb up your legs as it got higher and higher.

Lionel followed you soon after, lowering himself into the tub with you. He draped an arm over your shoulder and leant down to nuzzle your neck.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he murmured. “I know I say it all the time, but it’s true.”

His other hand slid down your thigh, his fingers teasing your skin as the water lapped higher. You giggled and squirmed a little at the tickling sensation.

“Li, that tickles!”

“Good. I like it when you squirm.”

You felt your heartbeat quicken. His hand was dangerously close now… you placed your hand over his and guided it back towards your knee.

“You know, you didn’t have to do all this, Lionel. I would have been happy with a simple room.”

“You might be, but I’m not. I can afford the best, so why shouldn’t I have it? Besides…” He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. “I’m not bringing you to Paris to sit in some box of a room with no view. You’ll have the best view, the most comfortable bed, and the most luxurious jacuzzi jets. Speaking of which… I think it’s time we turn them on, don’t you?”

Lionel leaned over to turn the tap off and the jets on. You squealed a little in surprise as the jets of water shot out of the side of the tub, massaging your calves and your back with the water.

“Mhm, that’s better,” Lionel groaned with relief as he sat back on the seat, either arm draped over the edge of the tub. You came closer and cuddled up to him, your head resting on his chest. He smiled and stroked your hair.

“This is nice,” you murmured quietly, your eyes closed as you relaxed. The water was warm, the jets were soothing, and your boyfriend was holding you — you wondered if this was what Heaven felt like.

You sat there in a comfortable silence for a while. Lionel traced lazy shapes on your shoulder, his fingertips absentmindedly exploring your wet skin.

“You’re quiet,” he said softly after a while.

“Just relaxing,” you murmured in reply. “I’m so comfortable with you.”

Lionel smiled and kissed the top of your head.

“Good. I’m comfortable with you, too. Believe me, being with you is exciting in so many ways, but at the same time… you’re the one source of calmness in my life.”

You smiled and looked up at him.

“Have I tamed you?” you teased.

“Oh, nothing will tame this lion, I can assure you,” Lionel said confidently. “I’m a wild beast at heart.”

“Mmm, I bet you are. And I can tell this wild beast is excited about something…”

Lionel opened his mouth to question what you meant, but all he let out was a moan when you dipped your hand into the water and wrapped it around the evidence of his excitement.

Even though Lionel was a virgin, he was still a teenage boy, and he had one thing very prominently on his mind at all times. You knew he wanted to have sex with you. You wanted it too, but your mum’s warning rang in your mind, and you didn’t want to rush into anything and do something stupid.

Lionel respected your boundaries, but you could tell he was struggling. Whenever you made out, when you shared a bed, when he saw you getting dressed — his dick made it very clear what it wanted.

You weren’t being completely prudish. You touched each other sometimes. You were both still learning about your own bodies as well as each other’s, so you could both be clumsy, and sometimes your awkwardness and embarrassment got the best of you. But you were so comfortable together that any embarrassment didn’t last long, and you laughed together at the awkward moments and learnt from one another’s mistakes.

Maybe a romantic trip to Paris was part of Lionel’s plan to get you to put out — and if it was, you weren’t entirely against it working. But most importantly, you were just happy to be alone with him, in an exciting new place, experiencing new things together.

“Does it feel good in the water?” you asked.

Lionel’s reply was just a groan, his head lolling back, his eyes closed as he tried not to cum straight away.

Your wrist couldn’t move as fast as you’d have liked it to in the water, but perhaps that was a good thing. You could see by the strain on his face that Lionel was holding back.

The fact that he was holding back just made you more daring. You moved in the water so that instead of sitting next to him, you were in front of him, floating in the water between his legs as you tugged on him, remembering what he’d told you about focusing on the tip.

“I think — I think you want me to cum in the water,” Lionel panted, finally managing to get some words out.

You pushed yourself up and out of the water slightly so you were level with him. You took his head in your free hand and pulled him closer to allow you to kiss him.

You could feel the water moving around where you were tugging his cock. Your hand movements were still frustratingly slow.

“God, fuck… I can’t…”

Lionel’s cock slipped out of your hand as he pushed himself up and out of the water, and sat himself on the corner of the jacuzzi, his feet resting on the underwater seats, leaving his cock free of the restrictions of the water.

His cock was still standing to attention, and it was directly at eye-level.

You had an idea. It was something Lionel had never asked for, but you knew it was something people did, and you wanted to try it.

You settled yourself between his legs and held the base of his shaft in your hand. Lionel’s grip on the edge of the jacuzzi tightened as he prepared himself for you to start jerking him off faster — what he didn’t expect was for you to open your mouth and to slowly, cautiously, wrap your lips around the tip of his cock.

“Fucking hell, [Y/n],” he hissed.

You knew his cock was big. You knew it was wide. You didn’t think you’d ever get his full length in your mouth — but you didn’t expect to struggle with the width.

You tried to breathe through your nose. Slowly, carefully, bit by bit, you took him further in your mouth. You weren’t making a whole lot of progress, and you knew it would take some practice before you could really take him in your mouth. But you managed to gain enough ground to allow you to bob your head back and forth a little, and the noises Lionel was making made it all worth it.

Lionel placed his hand over yours, the one that was holding him at the base, and gently encouraged you to move it back and forth, allowing you to stimulate his entire length without having to worry about choking yourself.

“Fuck, I… I didn’t think you could get more beautiful, but you’re fucking stunning like this,” Lionel growled through gritted teeth.

You looked up at him, and it took all of his strength not to cum right then. He loved your lips, they were so pretty, so perfectly soft and fun to kiss. They looked even better wrapped around his cock.

Not just that, but he could see your breasts too, nipples just about poking over the water. They were moving slightly with each bob of your head, the water sloshing over them, leaving trails of water that he desperately wanted to lick up.

“Touch yourself,” Lionel ordered between pants. “In the water, touch yourself… I want to see you enjoying this…”

You obeyed, your fingers rubbing at your clit under the water. You knew you wouldn’t cum this way, but just that bit of stimulation gave you at least some relief.

This was what life was about, Lionel thought. People sought joys in all sorts of things — drugs, art, you name it — but sitting here in a jacuzzi in France, jets massaging his legs, and you, the love of his life, touching yourself while you sucked him off… Lionel couldn’t think of anything better — except maybe fucking you. That was a joy he was yet to experience, but he knew it was going to be incredible.

His gaze drifted back to your lips. He wanted to paint them, to cover you with his cum. He grabbed you by the hair and pulled your head back. You came unstuck with a pop, and you gasped for air.

“Touch your tits for me,” Lionel growled as he took his cock in his hand and began pumping it. “But keep your eyes on me.”

You obeyed. You were good like that. You had your boundaries, and he knew you’d say no if something made you uncomfortable. But if you were willing, you always did as he asked.

You massaged your breast with one hand while the other kept rubbing your clit in the water. Your nipples were erect with arousal, and sensitive too. You could feel every squeeze, every pinch, every drop of water. You looked up at Lionel, watching as he jerked himself off in front of you, and when your eyes met, you knew he was moments away.

“I want to cum on you,” Lionel said, his voice high pitched and desperate, nothing like the growling lion he liked to present himself as. “On your face or — or on your tits.”

“On my face,” you replied quickly, not even thinking about it.

“Fuck, yes. Yes, you’ll take my cum on your face. Mmm, good girl… shit… fuck — [Y/n]!”

He let out a loud moan that echoed in the bathroom, and when you saw the sticky, white cum erupting out of his cockhead, you instinctively opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue to catch it.

“Fuck! Fuck, take it… ohh… mhm, [Y/n]…”

He leant his head against the wall, panting for breath, his cock softening in his stilled hand.

You, meanwhile, were still desperately horny.

 Lionel didn’t seem to be moving any time soon — but something else was.

You moved over to one of the jets, which were still shooting out water. You positioned yourself in front of it, resting your feet on the seat as you found just the right position… and the hot, hard jet started massaging against your clit.

When Lionel had recovered somewhat and he opened his eyes, he didn’t expect to see you getting yourself off with one of the water jets.

“Enjoying the jacuzzi?”

“I’m so close,” you moaned.

Lionel sunk himself back into the water and wrapped his arms around you. One hand grabbed at your breast while the other found its way between your legs and started rubbing at your clit.

“I believe this is my job,” he purred in your ear. “But I’ll allow some assistance if my girl enjoys it.”

“Oh my god… it feels so good…” you moaned. The combined sensation of Lionel’s fingers and the water jet rubbing at your clit were bringing you closer and closer to orgasm. You needed something more, just a little bit, just to push you over the edge…

As if he could sense your needs, Lionel took your nipple between his fingers and pinched. He rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, and your legs began to shake as your orgasm began to climb.

“Lionel, I’m — I’m gonna…”

“Cum for me, love,” he growled. “Be a good girl and cum for me.”

“Lionel… oh, god, Lionel… Lionel!”

There was absolutely no dignity in it. Your legs shook, your grip on the edge of the tub slipped, and it was only Lionel’s arms around you that stopped you from slipping into the water as your orgasm shook right through you.

It was the most mindblowing orgasm you’d ever had in your life. As the aftershocks wore off, you gave up on attempting to lean on the tub, and you let yourself relax into Lionel’s arms.

He held you close, his torso pressed against your back, one hand still on your breast as he kissed you all over your neck and jawline, as if he needed to consume you.

“[Y/n]… I am going to fuck you.”

You were too blissed-out to say anything, but his words sent a heat blooming in your core.

“I’ll wait until you’re ready, but it’s going to happen. You can’t make noises like that and not expect me to fuck you. I want to make you cum like that around my cock. I want to feel you trembling beneath me as I bring you that pleasure. I want… fuck, [Y/n]. I want you. All of you.”

You smiled and turned around in the water to face him. You kissed him, and it was wet, and you wondered if he could taste his own seed on your tongue. If he did, it didn’t stop him from kissing you back, slowly but passionately, your limbs entwined under the water.

“I want it,” you whispered as you pulled away. “I want to experience everything with you, Lionel. I want to give you everything. All of me… everything I have to give… I’m yours.”

There were three things Lionel wanted to do on this trip, two of which were certain. The first, the museum, that was certain — tomorrow. The second, that was not so certain — to make love to his girlfriend — but it was looking more and more likely. And the third… the third was certain, but he wanted to do it somewhere romantic. And of all the places in Paris, the jacuzzi wasn’t so romantic, so he held off for now, but he was tempted. He was sorely tempted.

Instead, he placed a soft kiss on the end of your nose.

“I think it’s time for dinner, don’t you?”

- - -

You were very rudely awakened by Lionel pulling the curtains open, causing the early morning Parisian sun to hit you in the face.

“Time to get up, love. The gallery opens at nine.”

“Whassa time?”

“Seven.”

You moaned and pulled the duvet over your head.

“We don’t need to wake up two hours before, it’s right there!” you moaned. “C’mon, come back to bed, babe.”

“We need time for a romantic Parisian breakfast, don’t we?” Lionel said as he pulled the duvet back down. Even sleepy, dishevelled and hungover, he thought you looked beautiful in the morning light.

“How are you so awake? I swear you drank as much as me.”

“Lions don’t get hungover. Come on, if you’re so hungover, you need coffee. A good, strong shot of espresso will have you on your feet in no time. Come on, I’ll get your clothes out your bag, you go to the bathroom and freshen up.”

Reluctantly, and with a yawn, you sat up in the bed.

“You know, sometimes I think you and Sinclair are complete opposites,” you grumbled as you pushed yourself out of the bed while Lionel opened up your suitcase. “And sometimes I think you might as well be twins.”

“I don’t know if I should be offended by that. Why have you packed so many clothes? We’re only here for a few days.”

“I like to have options. It’s hot, I should have a summer dress in there somewhere.”

You trudged into the bathroom to sort yourself out. A quick shower had you feeling a little fresher, but your head was still pounding.

You emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Lionel was nowhere to be seen, but he’d left an outfit on the bed, a floral dress with short sleeves and a flowing skirt. You put it on, along with some clean underwear, and you had just finished drying your hair when Lionel returned with two takeaway coffee cups in his hands.

“Here you are. The hotel restaurant does some incredible coffee.”

“Ooh, that is exactly what I need right now, thank you,” you said with a groan of relief. You took the cup gratefully, and smiled when Lionel kissed the top of your head.

“Anything for my girl.”

You smiled coyly. “You like saying that, don’t you? Calling me yours.”

“Well, you are.” Lionel put his coffee cup down and placed his hands on your shoulders as he kissed the top of your head. “Mine, mine, mine,” he growled, punctuating each claim with a kiss. “Tell me now if I’m wrong.”

“Oh, you’re not wrong. I am yours, Li.” You placed your hand over his and leaned into his touch with a smile. “And I am also… very hungover.” You rubbed your temple. “I can’t believe you convinced me to do shots in that bar last night.”

“You’re cute when you’re drunk. Especially when you’re dancing all over me in a nightclub. Come on, are you ready yet? I want to take you to a lovely cafe nearby for breakfast. Food will definitely help your hangover.”

He wasn’t wrong, so you finished getting ready, and just before you took one last drink of your coffee, Lionel handed you some pills.

“For your headache,” he said.

“You think of everything,” you replied. You took the pills, washed them down with the coffee, then held your hand out to Lionel.

“Come on, then. Show me Parisian breakfast.”

Lionel insisted that you get to the Orsay at exactly opening time, but to his annoyance, there was already a queue of people outside.

“Ugh, I hate tourists,” he grumbled as you took your place at the back of the line.

“Hey, we’re tourists.”

“One day, I’ll be so rich, I’ll be able to hire out whole museums so we can visit them in peace. Just you and me, and as much time alone with Monet as we like. We could walk around naked if we wanted.”

You laughed, though you weren’t entirely sure he was joking.

“You’re not rich enough to do that now? Man, you should have said, I wouldn’t have bothered dating you.”

“Watch it, you,” Lionel teased, and you giggled as he tickled your sides. “I only have what Mum gives me.”

“Ohh, poor baby, does Mummy not give you enough money to hire out an entire museum? What a tragedy.”

“I don’t have unlimited access to her bank account, you know. I had to ask her for the money to pay for this trip.”

“Ah, so it’s really Georgina that’s taken me on this romantic trip to Paris. Noted.”

Lionel tried to tickle you again, but you dodged out of the way.

“I told you, I’m going to learn all I can about business at uni, then I’m going to make my own success. I’ll be rich enough to hire this place out, you’ll see.”

“I’m sure I will. Have you any idea what is going to make you so much money? You know, you have to actually do something. You can’t just walk around in a suit and tie pointing at pie charts all day.”

“Dammit, that’s all I thought I had to do. That, and shout at juniors for not getting reports to me in time.”

You laughed. The line began moving steadily as the doors opened and visitors began filing in.

“I’m sure you’ll figure out your path at uni, Li,” you said as you slipped your hand into his. “Maybe you and Sinclair could start your own company together.”

“Mmm, maybe,” Lionel replied noncommittally. “I love him and I’d do anything for him… but I’m not sure I’d trust him with anything financial. Money has a way of slipping through his fingers. I’m not even sure what he spends it on.”

“He probably eats it.”

Lionel guffawed. “You know what, [Y/n], you’re probably right. I’d wager it does all go on food.”

“Where do you guys do your food shopping?”

“How should I know? The staff do the food shopping.”

You had to laugh then.

“Oh my god, Lionel. Do you hear yourself sometimes?” You put on your best imitation of an overly-posh accent. “What do you mean, ‘buy’ food? Does it not simply appear on the table? Mummy told me that if I’m a very good boy this year then Father Christmas might bring me some new Gucci shoes. My driver got sick last week and I had to drive myself around everywhere, it was simply terrible!”

“[Y/n], stop it!” Lionel protested, but he was laughing. “I do not sound like that.”

“You do a little bit.”

“Look, my mother does her best for me, as all mothers do. It’s not my fault she’s filthy rich and spoils me rotten.”

“Ah, so you admit you’re spoiled,” you teased. You were almost at the entrance now, and Lionel reached into his jacket pocket to pull out his wallet to pay your admission.

“Even your wallet’s posh. Is that real leather?”

“[Y/n], shush,” Lionel laughed. “Don’t go blurting it out to the whole world that I’m rich, what if someone tries to mug me?”

“Oh, Li, you don’t need me to do that. Your clothes do that for you.”

Lionel glanced down at his outfit with a frown. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“Trust me, Li. Just like you can probably tell that I wear cheap clothes, yours scream expensive.”

“I just have good taste,” Lionel said stubbornly.

He approached the counter with a confident, polite smile.

“Bonjour. Deux billets, s'il vous plaît.”

“Ce sera deux euros. Souhaitez-vous faire un don pour soutenir notre travail?”

Lionel opened his mouth to say something, but then he glanced at you, and apparently changed his mind.

“Oui, bien sûr. Voici dix euros en plus.”

“Merci pour votre générosité, monsieur. Voici un guide du musée.”

The man handed Lionel a leaflet. Lionel glanced at it, then said, “Vous l'auriez en anglais?”

The man glanced at you, apparently unimpressed.

“Oui, voici une version anglaise,” he said, and he handed Lionel another leaflet. “Bonne visite, profitez-en bien.”

“Nous le ferons, merci. Bonne journée.”

Lionel placed a hand on the small of your back and ushered you on into the museum as the man behind the counter beckoned over the next visitor.

“Lionel…”

“Mmm?” he responded absentmindedly as he opened one of the leaflets.

“You’re so hot when you speak French.”

He glanced up at you and smirked. “Oh, really? I’ll have to remember that. It’ll be a lot easier to seduce you if I don’t have to actually say anything sexy. I’ll just recite the recipe for a cake in French.”

“Oh, Lionel, don’t be silly. You don’t know the recipe for a cake. Have you ever even stepped foot in a kitchen?”

Lionel smacked you with the leaflet playfully.

“As a matter of fact, I have. I’ll have you know that a few years ago, Sinclair became obsessed with the idea of baking. After his third burnt cake, I had to step in and supervise. It was an awful experience, I hated every second, I have no idea why some people pursue it as a career. Now, do you want to see the Monets first, or save the best until last?”

“Hmm… let’s do them first. Then we won’t be rushing through everything else to get to them.”

“Excellent. Here’s your guide — no, that’s mine. Here’s yours.”

He handed you one of the leaflets, the second one he’d been handed.

“What’s the difference?”

“This one’s French. Come on, it’s this way.”

“Are you completely fluent in French?” you asked as Lionel took your hand and led you in the direction the guide had pointed him.

“I’m fluent in French, Spanish and Italian,” Lionel said as if it was no big deal. “I can speak Dutch and Norwegian too, though not as well. Sinclair, of course, is fluent in all of them. He’s like a human Rosetta Stone. What languages do you speak?”

“English.”

“And?”

“English.”

“Seriously? They don’t even teach French in state schools?”

“We did a bit but it was all, like, basic stuff.  You know — Bonjour. Comment vas-tu? Comment t'appelles-tu? Je m'appelle [Y/n]. Je suis fille unique. J'habite à Winchester. Mon cours préféré est l'art. Où est la bibliothèque? That’s about the extent of my French. Oh, and the lyrics to Frère Jacques.”

Lionel chuckled. “They taught you the important things, then. Did they teach you how to say ‘My boyfriend is very handsome’?”

“No, why would I need to say that? Everyone can see how handsome you are.”

“But can they see that I’m your boyfriend?”

You glanced down at your joined hands.

“Point taken,” Lionel conceded. “Ah — there it is!”

He pointed to a door, which had Exposition Monet written at the top.

Although there’d been a queue to get in, the visitors had all headed in different directions depending on what they wanted to see, and the place was so huge that it was still fairly empty. When you stepped into the Monet Exhibition, you only saw two other people in there, and it was easy to ignore their presence.

There was something peaceful about viewing art with Lionel. He took his time with each piece, admiring it in detail. You’d gone to galleries together before, London had plenty, and every time, it was as if some other side of him came out.

It was easy to think of Lionel as a serious person. He was good at acting the part of the serious, well-educated posh boy you’d expected of him when you knew nothing about him but the college he went to. And next to Sinclair, full of energy and jokes, Lionel might seem, to an outsider, the most serious, unamused person in the world.

But you knew better. You saw him when you were alone, when his facade faded away and he felt comfortable enough to be himself around you. He was funny, he didn’t take himself too seriously, and sometimes he even let you see that he wasn’t always as pretentiously self-confident as he seemed.

But this Lionel, the Lionel even you rarely saw — it was like a third, hidden layer of his personality. He was quiet, but you could sense that internally, he was admiring every brushstroke, every choice of colour, every drop of paint that captured an artist’s vision.

It wouldn’t be until after you left a gallery and you were brought back into the real world that Lionel would say anything about the pieces you’d looked at. You would spend hours talking, discussing your favourite pieces, which ones had moved you, which had moved him, and swapping ideas and interpretations. Sometimes you disagreed, but you found that even more enthralling, because neither of you ever said the other was wrong, and you both loved to hear the other’s interpretation.

You turned into a separate room, and you saw a very familiar painting ahead of you.

“Look, it’s our old friend,” Lionel said, speaking for the first time since you’d entered the exhibition.

He led you by the hand up to Haystacks at Dawn, the very same painting he’d shown you the day you met. The plaque, written in both French and English, told you it was on loan from a private collection.

There was a kind of stillness in him when he was looking at art. But you could feel his thumb moving, gently stroking your hand, as if that one part of him that was connected to you stayed grounded while the rest of him was lost somewhere within the painting.

“Lionel?”

“Hmm?”

He turned his head towards you slightly, but his eyes remained fixed on the canvas.

“I love you.”

It took him a moment to tear his eyes away from the painting, but when he looked at you, it was as if you were the only work of art there.

He didn’t say anything at first. It wasn’t hesitation — more of a basking in the moment, letting the reality of what you’d said set in.

His smile lit up his face in a way you’d never seen before. It was a mixture of relief, of peace and comfort; as if your words had washed all his worries away.

He leant down and kissed you, his lips soft on yours. He usually kissed you so passionately, his tongue pressing into your lips; but now, his lips were softly ghosting yours, as if he were kissing the words that had just left them.

His amber eyes gazed into yours with ardent adoration.

“I love you, too,” Lionel said softly.

You felt a weight lift from your chest, one you hadn’t even known was there, and a feeling of serenity took its place, enclosing your heart in a soft, warm, protective embrace. Nothing could hurt you now.

You wrapped your arms around his torso and held him in an embrace. Lionel hugged you back, his lips ghosting kisses across your forehead. In front of you both, Haystacks at Dawn was still there, a silent observer; its paint had sat on its canvas for eighty years, waiting to connect this, the greatest moment of Lionel’s life, to that morning in Monet’s life all that time ago.

And Lionel knew that he would never look at that painting the same way again.

- - -

“Oh fuck, that feels so fucking good.”

Lionel smirked to himself as he heard your voice from the bathroom. He had every intention of making you repeat that phrase soon for a very different reason; but for now, you were saying it because your feet were on fire from walking around the museum all day, and you’d just lowered them into the scalding hot water of the jacuzzi.

His feet were fine, of course. He’d spent many hours exploring Paris in the past, and he’d invested in some very comfortable shoes for it. You, meanwhile, had worn sandals with your summer dress, and they were definitely not designed for walking around in all day.

After the museum - which had taken you most of the day - Lionel had taken you for an early dinner at a fancy restaurant. Usually, you insisted on ordering for yourself, but since you had no idea what the menu said or how to order it, Lionel had ordered for you. You didn’t complain; it meant you could listen to him speak more French.

Lionel wanted to go out for drinks afterwards, but you wanted to rest your feet, so you agreed to go back to the hotel room for a while first.

While bathing your feet, you came to a decision. You knew what you wanted; and you wanted it now.

You’d already told him you loved him. Now you wanted to show him.

When you emerged from the bathroom, Lionel was sat on the edge of the bed, casually reading the back of a champagne bottle as he sipped on a glass of its contents.

“This stuff’s excellent. Do you want to try some?” Lionel asked, holding up the glass to you.

Your response was to take the bottle from his hand, and the glass, and place them on a nearby cabinet. You turned back to Lionel, who was frowning at his drink being taken away, but his mood quickly changed when you straddled his lap and held his head in your hands to kiss him.

Any thoughts of champagne were suddenly forgotten. All Lionel wanted to taste was you. His arms snaked around your torso, holding you close against him as he kissed you back. Emboldened by the drinks he’d already had at dinner, Lionel let a hand wander down your back, and when it landed on your rear, you didn’t protest. He let his other hand follow the same path, and even when he squeezed both your cheeks, you didn’t stop him. In fact, your reaction was to thrust your hips forward, and Lionel could feel his trousers tightening.

“[Y/n]… I’ve warned you about wriggling on my lap,” Lionel said through gritted teeth as your kisses wandered down his jawline. “Are you trying to get me excited?”

You just kept kissing him until you reached his ear, then said softly, “Are there condoms in your bag?”

Lionel’s breath hitched.

“Why… why would I pack condoms?”

“Hmm, I don’t know… a romantic trip to Paris with your girlfriend… why wouldn’t you pack condoms?”

“I… yes, I brought some. Just — just in case.”

“Good.” You pressed a kiss to the end of his nose. “Better get them out, then.”

Lionel’s eyes went wide for a moment, then narrowed again as he remembered his confidence. You stood to let him up, and he tried to act cool as he went over to his suitcase to dig out the box of condoms he’d packed, hidden from view beneath his underwear.

“I’ve… had these for a few weeks,” he admitted as he turned back to you with the box in hand. You’d sat yourself on the bed and scooted up to sit against the headboard.

“It’s open,” you said curiously as Lionel placed the box on the bedside table and shrugged off his jacket.

“I practised putting it on,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to do it wrong when — when the time came.”

He sat on the edge of the bed and placed his hand over yours.

“Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want you to feel like you have to because I’ve brought you to Paris.”

You smiled sweetly. “Yes, I’m sure, Li. Anyway, I don’t have much choice after hearing you speak so much French today. Every time your accent changed, I had to resist the urge to drop my knickers right there and then.”

Lionel chuckled and pushed himself onto the bed to straddle your legs. “I didn’t know French had such an effect on you. I’d have started speaking French to you weeks ago if I’d known.”

“I didn’t know either until I heard it from you. You could say anything in French and it’d sound sexy.”

Lionel smirked mischievously. He leaned forward and brought his lips close to your ear, then whispered, “Omelette du fromage.”

You burst out laughing.

“Come on, I know that means cheese omelette!”

Lionel laughed as he pulled away and sat back. He placed his hands on your knees and gently moved them away from each other, smiling as he admired the view of your skirt riding up your thighs.

“I think I’ll start with taking your knickers off,” he said with a growl.

He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you down the bed until you were flat on your back. His thumbs slipped under the waistband of your knickers, and he gently pulled them down your legs and past your ankles, before discarding them on the floor somewhere.

You felt exposed like this, Lionel’s grip on your thighs keeping them firmly in place, so you couldn’t have closed your legs if you wanted to. He was looking between your legs hungrily, his pupils wide and dilated, as he considered his next move.

“Maybe you’re right about calling yourself a lion. You look like you’re about to pounce.”

Lionel’s eyes flickered up to yours, and he smirked.

“I am a lion, darling.” His eyes drifted down again. “I suppose that makes you my gazelle.”

He certainly moved with the swiftness of a pouncing lion going in for the kill, but instead of teeth sinking into the flesh of prey, he dipped his head between your legs and you felt his tongue delve beneath your folds.

You gasped, and that only spurred him on, his tongue exploring your folds as enthusiastically as it had explored your mouth on many occasions. He licked every inch of you he could find, and you were sure he was leaving your clit for last — you knew damn well he knew where it was, his fingers had proven that several times now.

When he finally deigned to show you some attention where it really mattered, he gave you the smallest, slightest lick under the hood, right on it, and you let out a whine.

You could feel him smirking. You could feel his fucking pride against your skin as he licked you again, and you let out another whine.

He was doing it on purpose, you realised as he did it a third time. He was giving you a small but perfect lick, just enough to make you whine, then pausing before doing it again.

“Stop teasing and do it properly, you arsehole,” you said through gritted teeth.

Lionel pulled his head back slightly to look up at you and laughed.

“Anything for you, mon chérie.”

He stopped teasing. He did it properly.

He was a quick learner. It was his first time eating you out, yet somehow he was able to stimulate you in ways you could never do with your own fingers, even though you’d been touching yourself since you were eleven years old.

Then again, a tongue was very different from a finger. It was wetter, softer, and able to change shape. Lionel could also, you discovered with a moan, close his lips around your clit and suck.

That was apparently the last straw. Lionel kept sucking and licking as you came, legs shaking and mouth crying out something that vaguely resembled his name. It was only when you asked him to stop that he stilled his movements and pulled his head back, and the sight of his lips and chin covered in your glistening cum was bested only when you saw him wipe his chin with his thumb, then lick the thumb clean.

“You’d better get those fucking clothes off,” you said as you reached over for the box of condoms.

“Since when does the gazelle give the lion orders?”

Even so, Lionel obeyed, fingers making quick work of his shirt. You pulled your dress over your head, then unclasped your bra and tossed it all aside.

Lionel groaned with relief when he was able to pull his trousers down and free his cock. He kicked away the remainder of his clothing, then took the condom from you. You watched as he rolled it down his shaft, then you wrapped your hand around him and gave it a few experimental tugs to see what it felt like.

“When you practised… did you cum in it?”

“Mmm. It feels different. Less sensitive, perhaps, but that may be a good thing — I might finish too soon otherwise.”

“Did you think about me?” you asked teasingly.

Lionel raised an eyebrow at you. “[Y/n], I have thought about you with every wank since the day we met. I’d hope you’ve been thinking about me too.”

“Oh, I have,” you promised. “Especially since I first touched your cock and realised how big you are… I’ve been wondering what it’ll feel like to have you inside me. If you’ll even fit.”

“Then wonder no more. Lie down, darling.”

You did, and as you adjusted the pillow to support your neck comfortably, Lionel kissed his way up your body, starting from your belly button, all the way up your chest until he was kissing your lips again.

His body was pressed against yours. You could feel the heat radiating from him, and you could definitely feel his cock pressing against you, just one swift movement away from pushing inside.

“You’re shivering,” Lionel said with a small frown when he pulled away from the kiss and noticed you were shaking slightly. “Are you cold?”

“I’m — I’m nervous,” you admitted shyly.

Lionel kissed your lips softly. “So am I,” he admitted.

“I thought lions didn’t get nervous?”

“Perhaps I’m more human than I thought.” He gently stroked a stray strand of hair away from your face. “Are you ready, love?”

You nodded. You’d never been more ready for anything in your life. You didn’t just want him; you needed him.

Lionel pushed his hips forward slightly… and missed, his cock sliding up against your skin instead.

You reached down and took his cock in your hand. You guided him towards your entrance, and when he slipped inside, he let out a low groan.

“Holy shit,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

You pulled your hand away, instead wrapping your arms around his shoulders to pull him close to you as his hips moved further forward.

“Oh my god, [Y/n]. You feel… fucking phenomenal. I had - Christ! - I had no idea it would feel like this. So — so wet and warm. Fuck. How does it feel?”

“I can — I can feel you stretching me out,” you gasped in response. “It’s good — a good stretch. Like my body’s… expanding to fit you.”

“Mmm, yes, you’ll take all of me. And you wondered how I’d fit… the answer is perfectly. You were meant to take me, don’t you think? The gazelle meant to be devoured by the lion.”

He let out a groan as he bottomed out, his hips pushing into your thighs. Lionel took the skin of your neck between his teeth and sucked, as if he really were trying to devour you.

“I’m not… I’m not a gazelle,” you breathed.

Lionel released your neck from his lips so he could look up at you with amusement.

“Oh? Then what are you?”

You kissed him, hard and firm, as if marking your territory, then raised your lips to his ear.

“I’m the fucking lioness.”

Lionel physically shuddered as a wave of arousal swept over him.

“Yes… yes, you fucking are. Of course you are. My lioness. Then I hope you’re ready, love. Because I’m going to fuck you like the mighty fucking lioness you are.”

“Then do it.”

Lionel grinned, and you really hoped the hotel walls were soundproof, because the noise you made when he began slamming his hips into you was ungodly. And he kept going, which only made your sinful moans longer.

“I’m not gonna fucking last long if you - hah - if you moan like that,” Lionel grunted. “Bloody hell, love, I can’t tell you how fucking good you feel. I’m afraid I won’t last a day without fucking you now, not now I know this is how it feels. Even better than I imagined, fuck… fucking hell, [Y/n]. I love you. I really fucking - Christ! - I really love you. Shit, I’m about to cum already…”

“Do it, I want you to,” you gasped. “I want you to cum with your cock inside me, Li…”

“Oh, I will, I promise you that. Fuck, I — [Y/n] — [Y/n]!”

His hips stilled as he came, and that beautiful look on his face of utter ecstasy as he lost control looked even more beautiful from this angle.

Your name melted into a groan, and then a grunt of exhaustion as Lionel’s entire body relaxed and he practically flopped onto you.

“Fucking hell, [Y/n],” he mumbled as he nuzzled your neck and planted soft kisses on your skin. “You’re amazing.”

You smiled and kissed his shoulder.

“I know.”

Lionel laughed breathily, then pulled out of you and managed to sit himself up to pull the condom off.

“Back in a sec.”

He pushed himself off the bed and took himself into the bathroom, where you heard him turn on the tap, no doubt to clean himself up.

You took the opportunity to sit up slightly and look between your legs. To your surprise, there was no blood, just the usual glistening of your own secretions.

When Lionel came out of the bathroom, you took your turn. You returned to him sitting up against the headboard, still stark naked, lighting a cigarette.

“Do you want one?” he asked, pointing to the packet of cigarettes that now sat next to the condoms on the bedside table.

You shook your head as you climbed back onto the bed with him, an arm snaking over his torso as you cuddled up to him. Lionel wrapped his arm around you and cuddled you back.

“You okay?” he murmured.

You nodded and smiled happily.

“I thought there’d be blood. My friends all told me you bleed the first time.”

“Only if your boyfriend doesn’t know what he’s doing,” Lionel said smugly. He took a long drag of his cigarette, then said, “I know that was quick. I knew it’d be good, but I didn’t think it’d be that good. I’ll be ready to go again soon, we can do it again if you want. Tomorrow too. In fact, forget seeing Paris, let’s just stay in here and shag all day.”

You laughed and looked up at him. “Think you’ve got the stamina for that? Lions aren’t known for their endurance.”

Lionel grinned.

“When they’re in heat, they shag about fifty times a day. Think we can match that?”

“I have a feeling you’re gonna try.”

Lionel reached over to stub his cigarette out in the ashtray, then wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you down onto the bed, kissing every inch of you he could find. He growled with arousal as your bodies pressed together, and you could feel him getting erect again.

“You’ve awoken the beast now, love. And I am going to fucking devour you.”

Paris could wait. Your boyfriend had only one thing on his mind, and so did you; you knew you weren’t leaving this hotel room for a long time.

[agentmarvel]

your boyfriend wants you to see how pretty you are on a day you don’t really feel it.

mdni - 18+; minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

kyle “gaz” garrick x afab!fem!reader 

tags: established relationship, bdsm elements, fingering, squirting, praise, gaz is a good boyfriend

*could be considered dub-con w/ reader’s mental state; discussion and consent are implied but not explicitly stated

♡

kyle “gaz” garrick, who voraciously detests the days your brain is unkind to you. it’s not your fault, he knows that; but he loathes that little voice in your head that degrades you, tarnishes your confidence, makes you question what he sees in you. he’s been stupid in love with you since day one, and no amount of bad brain days will change that.

kyle “gaz” garrick, who tries his hardest to make those days even the slightest bit better. he can see the storm clouds brewing overheard the moment you wake up, so he’ll love on you just that much more to combat the noise.

kyle “gaz” garrick, who feels his heart break just a little when you tell him between sniffles that you don’t feel pretty. you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his goddamn life, and the fact that you can’t see any fraction of that some days makes him want to cry.

kyle “gaz” garrick, who is so horrendously down bad for his girl that he’ll do anything to show you just how fucking pretty he thinks you are.

kyle “gaz” garrick, who waits for that next bad day to sit you down on the bedroom floor. he has you sit between his legs, facing the large, full-length mirror beside the closet. his arms wrap around your waist, chin tucked into the curve of your shoulder as he reassures you that he loves you, all of you, every little part of you. he asks if you need more from him, but you don't quite respond.

kyle “gaz” garrick, whose patience and insistence can only guide him so far down the right path before his sense of self-restraint snaps. that’s how you end up locked in a spreader bar that’s tucked beneath his legs, knees splayed atop his thighs, stripped bare and on display in his lap. you writhe, desperate to look at him, begging for just a little kiss, but his firm grip is locked vise-like around your jaw, forcing you to stay focused on the mirror. 

kyle “gaz” garrick, who starts slow, spreading your puffy, slick folds open with two fingers - ring and index. he demands that you look, asks if you see it now. when you shake your head a little, he taps your clit with his middle finger a couple times, silvery strings of arousal clinging to the grooves of his prints.

kyle “gaz” garrick, who tortures you this way for almost 20 minutes before dipping a finger into your now drooling hole. he’s methodically inconsistent with pace and depth, keeping you guessing. your breathing is ragged, hips twisting as you try to put your thighs together. he laughs, low and almost cruel.

kyle “gaz” garrick, who slips in a second finger without warning, earning a near shriek from his darling girl. you claw at his wrists, pleading so sweetly with him to make you cum. he tuts in your ear, shaking his head as he declines, promising you can have more when you tell him how pretty you are.

kyle “gaz” garrick, who doubles his efforts when your voice turns saccharine - 

“please, ky - oh, fuck! - please!”

- and those dexterous fingers curl up, finding that perfect spot with expert precision. your back bows off his chest, eyes rolling back, your head tipping against his shoulder, and he none-too-gently pulls your face forward again.

kyle “gaz” garrick, who keeps telling you how fucking stunning you look, how pretty his baby is, how much he loves every inch of you. heat rises in your cheeks, he can feel it where your skin is pressed to his, and he asks if you see it, too. you shake your head, brows furrowing under beads of sweat.

kyle “gaz” garrick, who assures you will as he kisses your temple before sliding in a third finger. you let out a gut-punched gasp, grinding against the heel of his palm. you’re salivating, a line of spit puddling behind your lower lip. the pressure he applies tilts your chin down, and the thin stream dribbles out. it lands on your tits, glossy and slick.

“you gonna be a good girl and keep

your eyes on that mirror for me, lovie?”

kyle “gaz” garrick, who awaits your eager nod before releasing your jaw. his fingers withdraw, and he uses both hands to spread you open. fuck, he wants to bury his cock inside you. he wants to watch your perfect cunt struggle to swallow his entire length, lips gripping him for dear life while you sob and beg for more. he wants to ruin you and make you look yourself in the eye the whole time so maybe you’ll see a fraction of what he sees.

kyle “gaz” garrick, who smacks your pretty pussy in triplicate, sharp and stinging. he revels in the actual shriek you let out before stuffing two fingers back into you, finding that spot again automatically.

kyle “gaz” garrick, who rubs your stiff, swollen clit in neat, tight circles. you nearly sob at the contact, the tears pooling along your lashes finally spilling over. it doesn’t take long before you’re hiccuping incomprehensible pleas, delirious with pleasure, begging.

kyle “gaz” garrick, who refuses to let up.

kyle “gaz” garrick, who wants to see his girl squirt.

kyle “gaz” garrick, who won’t fucking stop until you give. him. what. he. wants.

kyle “gaz” garrick, who spits a slew of praise as your filthy little cunt gushes around his fingers. his ears ring with your compelled moans and whines as he drags the orgasm out of you until you’re pleading with him to stop. 

kyle “gaz” garrick, who’s vision blurs a little as he cums untouched.

“tha’s my girl, tha’s my fuckin’ girl,

that’s my good fuckin’ girl.”

kyle “gaz” garrick, who holds your gaze in the reflection. he slows his pace as he gingerly nips at your skin. you’re panting, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. the floor in front of you is soaked, as are kyle’s thighs. he asks you one more time if you see how pretty you look like this, and this time, you nod with a sated smile, adding a hazy “yes, sir”.

[seireitonin]

Ugly

(A not so short part from my comic I’m writing called False Miracles (ft Sebastia and Toby.) Also an angsty part I can’t help myself sorry!

Also spoilers for the comic obviously

Sebastia is curled up in the corner, head resting on the wall. Another day, another fight. Ever since Toby “found her” in the cabin, they’ve been stationed together and fighting. Some days it’s about when they first met which was also the first time they physically fought. Other days, it’s about how annoying Toby finds her because of how untrusting and accusatory Sebastia is. She’s constantly accusing him of wanting to harm her, him backstabbing her, him doing horrible things to her.

Not that Sebastia can control it that much. Miracle is constantly in her head, feeding her these ideas about Toby and everyone else around her. But even if that wasn’t the case, Sebastia is anxious and unstable. Unable to remove herself from her traumatized survivor mindset. Never relaxing, never opening up. Especially to a man.

“Why are you such a bitch all the time?!” Toby glares at her. “We can’t go two hours without you accusing me of something or you breaking down completely!

“Don’t call me that! It’s not my fault I don’t trust you! I hardly even know you or your intentions! You expect me to just trust you, a killer, a dangerous man with open arms and mind?! I don’t think so!”

“We fought once! Since then i haven’t given you a single reason not to trust me! You’re always flinching and jumping if I even breathe around you! It’s so fucking annoying!”

“Once is all it takes! You buried your hatchet in my shoulder without a second thought! You think I can trust someone like that?! Trust a man like that?! That will hurt someone like it’s as easy as breathing air?!”

“I found you covered in other people’s blood…don’t think you’re better than me! Don’t sit there like you’re a saint!”

“No…I’m not like you. Don’t you ever…compare me to you.”

Sebastia stands up. She’s not confrontational. Far from it. However, Toby comparing them to each other….Sebastia takes being compared to a violent man an insult.

“I did what I had to do to survive. To live. You just do it because you’re mindless and violent!”

Toby let’s put a dry chuckle and starts laughing at her words. Like he finds this whole thing amusing, like he’s not taking her seriously.

“Funny. That’s exactly what I said when I killed my first person.”

Sebastia gasps.

Toby mocks his past mindset and Sebastias current one with his words “Oh, I’m not a bad person! I just did what I had to do to be free! I had to end this persons life to stop the torture they put me through! That doesn’t make me a bad person!”

He runs his hand through his hair, laughing and shaking his head and continues to speak.

“Is that how you’re justifying it? That how you sleep at night?”

He walks towards Sebastia, eyes wide, crazed and smiling. As if this conversation was bringing up memories that were too much for his mind to handle as well. He keeps walking towards her and she keeps backing up, looking at him with eyes full of fear, until her back hits a wall and she’s trapped between the wall and Toby.

“Guess what, Sebastia?” He looks directly into her eyes, a very serious and cold look on his face. More serious than Sebastia has ever seen him, even when they had their first physical fight.

“Every person you kill, regardless of whether they hurt you or not…is a person whose family is never gonna see them again. Every person you kill, leaves behind a pool of blood, guilty or innocent. Doesn’t matter. Every person you kill..weighs on you. Someone like you who tries to convince herself she’s…moral.”

He continued.

“Your reasons don’t really matter do they? You still killed. You’re a violent girl who did a violent thing and is trying to convince herself otherwise.”

“N-no that’s not…that’s not true!” Sebastia’s voice shook as she spoke, shock and fear plaguing it.

“Oh? No? You say don’t compare us…but you have a monster that puts voices in your head, telling you who to attack. Who to kill. What I have with Slenderman. You have with your “Miracle.” And you wanna sit there and say we’re nothing alike? You’re stupid and delusional.” Toby’s words drip with venom.

“You’re trying to fight Miracle off? Keep it suppressed?”

Toby talks like he’s experienced this first hand.

“How many more breakdowns? How many more violent urges? How many more words does it need to put inside your head? Till it breaks you down and you just give in?”

Toby whispers in Sebastia’s ear.

“And end up just like me?”

Sebastia stands there in shock and confusion, emotions of every kind swirling in her. Until she just can’t take it. She doesn’t know what to say or do.

“Kill him” Miracle spoke in her head. And that’s all the guidance she needed.

Miracles mouths bursts out of Sebastia’s head, splattering blood all over the walls, on Toby’s face, and down Sebastia’s. The sharp teeth and red eyes following.

Miracles mouths slam Toby on the wall.

“I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU!”

Sebastia screams at him over and over with Miracles voice along side hers.

“Not long before you gave in huh?”

Sebastia not in her right mind just breaths heavily and glares, Miracle, wrapping around him, ready to rip him to pieces.

“Kill me and you know the consequences. Use your brain and not Miracles for once!” Toby yells at her, frustrated and angry but not scared.

“We gotta…stop…” Sebastia’s voice shook but she was telling Miracle to not kill Toby. “Need him….alive… can’t be…normal….without him…”

Sebastia starts to suppress Miracle, much to its disagreement.

Miracle reluctantly goes back to Sebastia and back inside her, Sebastia’s normal form returning as she sits on the bed, blood still trailing down her with a blank empty stare.

“I’m…”

Toby looks at her waiting to see what she’ll say.

“I’m sorry…Toby.”

Toby’s eyes widen a bit. Surprised. She has never ever apologized to him.

“I’m so sorry……” Sebastia puts her face in her hands letting out small sobs.

For the first time, Toby is shocked. Apologizing? Crying? What is this?

“You’re right…I’m a violent thing..an ugly, violent, thing!”

She can’t stop sobbing. Like the strength she’s had to uphold for months just crumbled at Toby’s words.

Toby has trouble feeling empathy. For anything or anyone. Usually his first reaction would be to laugh. But the sight of Sebastia crying brought something out of him. A distant memory he can’t place.

He sits beside her on the bed. Leaving room between them, knowing she doesn’t like to be touched by men.

“I never said ugly. I never said thing.”

He looks her, her head still in her pitch black hands.

“Yeah I definitely called you ugly in the past but I’m a dick so….take that with a grain of salt.” That was his way of apologizing.

“Uh…look…I…we’re traveling all this way to help you fix this right? Make you normal again? There’s still a chance you’re not like this forever. Unlike me. So…”

“What if I am? What if…I’m ugly forever?” Sebastia holds back sobs and looks at him to talk.

“Then if you have to stay with everyone…. if you really can’t go back…maybe me and you can finally learn to have a conversation without fighting. Plus you…you’re not ugly. I’ve seen some ugly stuff and…you’re just not that. Despite what I’ve said.”

Sebastia calms down eyes still a bit puffy, blood and tears staining her face.

They look at each other. Both of them have deep dark circles. Sebastia’s blood still staining Toby’s face.

“This…this is gonna sound…so weird….but…”

Toby looks at her and waits for her to finish.

“I wish I could hug you right now…”

Toby’s eyes widen just for a second. She’s full of surprises tonight. Neither of them being touched gently in months maybe for Toby, years, it didn’t sound like a bad idea.

“Yeah……me too.”

[evilkitten3]

I don't understand why Uchiha clan believed that Madara stole his brothers eyes and killed him... Haven't they saw that Izuna was mortally wounded by Tobirama?

they saw izuna badly wounded by tobirama, yes (well, the ones there that day did), but it's quite likely they weren't actually there when he died. we don't even know what exactly killed him - infection, blood loss, organ failure... no clue. most likely, only a handful of people were actually there when he passed, if anyone, and we'll probably never know.

the main reason for how this rumor started isn't ever stated, but it's certainly implied: madara's communication skills are dogshit. he doesn't trust people, he's distant and uncommunicative. he's also a bit of a quitter, socially. he doesn't believe in telling people things or sharing his side of the story bc as far as he's concerned they've all already made up their minds and it's pointless to try and change them, which leads to the gap between himself and his clan widening, which leads to him closing off, etc etc the cycle continues.

long post w/e a couple images below

according to hashirama, by the time izuna died, the war was pretty clearly going in the senju's favor. it's difficult to say how much of that can be blamed on who/what, but imo it's in large part due to the senju suddenly having a walking forest deity on their side. but from the uchiha's perspective, the on-and-off clan war that had been more or less even for however many years it had been going on was suddenly looking more and more unbalanced.

moreover, it's likely the uchiha's financial situation was starting to worsen as well. when we first meet tajima and izuna, both of them are wearing armor

but by the time hashirama and madara become heads of their clans, only izuna is

(couldn't find the manga version but i own the volume and this is more or less accurate)

it makes sense for tajima to prioritize himself and his sons, not even as a father but as a pragmatic clan head who knows one of them will succeed him. even madara (still can't find the image so i just took a picture with my phone, sorry for the poor quality)

you can't really tell in the first one but by the second it's pretty obvious - madara wore armor on the battlefield until he became clan head.

as i said, it made sense for tajima to armor selectively from a pragmatic standpoint, but it makes sense for madara as a character to forgo armoring himself at all, both bc he's deeply arrogant (and correctly so - the only person who really poses a threat to him is hashirama, and armor is only gonna help so much there) and bc i think he's the sort of person who wouldn't use a resource for himself and not his clan, especially if he didn't really think he needed it. that last bit is just my best guess, though.

so anyway i imagine the tide of the war turning combined with a worsening financial situation (each likely not helped by the other) had already primed the uchiha to view madara as a bad leader, regardless of how much of that was his fault.

so, here's what we know happened immediately pre-ceasefire:

-izuna is grievously injured -madara retreats from battle with izuna; several uchiha surrender to the senju -izuna dies and madara takes his eyes (unclear what order this happened in) -madara shows up to fight hashirama (+co but he doesn't care about them lol) by himself (note: it's possible that in the anime he brought other people with him, but in the manga madara is the only uchiha we see present during the pre-founding fight) -madara and hashirama agree to end the war

we don't know how madara broke this to the uchiha clan, we don't know how much they know of what actually happened. here's what the uchiha clan knows happened immediately pre-ceasefire:

-lord izuna is grievously injured -lord madara retreats from the battle, which likely means they lose, and several uchiha desert to the senju -lord madara, whose only (as far as we the readers know) heir has just died, fucks off to go fight the senju (presumably he at least told them he was going to go do this. i hope) -lord madara comes back and tells them the war is over and they're going to be building a village to share with the senju (or something along those lines) -at some point during all of this, lord madara ended up with lord izuna's eyes

whatever else they learned about the situation, madara would have had to tell them himself (with his words, in a conversation with other humans) or they would've had to find out from someone else who was there - i.e., someone from the senju clan. here's what the senju clan knows happened pre-ceasefire:

-lord tobirama wounds uchiha izuna -the uchiha retreat and several of them defect -uchiha madara shows up, briefly has a yell-off with lord hashirama (uchiha madara says uchiha izuna is dead but left him "power to protect the uchiha", lord hashirama mentions a peace agreement, uchiha madara says "fuck you fight me"), and then fights until he literally can't move anymore -lord tobirama attempts to kill uchiha madara, which would effectively end the war for good, and is stopped by lord hashirama pretty aggressively -lord hashirama tries to reason with uchiha madara again but gets told "if u want me to trust u kill urself" to which he says "ok bet", orders the clan not to continue fighting the uchiha after he's gone, and makes to stab himself in the stomach, which would effectively end the war for good in favor of the uchiha, who had basically already lost -uchiha madara stops him from killing himself and agrees to the truce, meaning the uchiha have in all but name lost and conceded the war to the senju

we don't know how much of the two clans are aware of hashirama and madara's childhood friendship, but it was probably impossible to hide that something had happened. hashirama is naturally charismatic, so he could probably win back his clan's trust pretty easily, but madara.... not so much.

so if your clan head with a history of not-so-reliable(-seeming) behavior abandoned the clan to go fight his ex-friend right after his brother and heir died, having taken his eyeballs, and then came back announcing a truce with your age-old enemy, and then you found out from the grapevine some version of "madara could have won the whole war if he'd just let hashirama harakiri himself but actively chose to stop him".... what would you think?

don't ask yourself "why would the uchiha think madara killed izuna and stole his eyes", ask yourself this instead: why wouldn't they think he did that?

[thanotaphobia]

found some old prime defenders writing............... a fic spanning the 10 month gap when dakota left...................... Anyways....... here's the big ghostknife blowout fight scene smile heart

(this is not edited, so very messy, ignore that)

☆

“God, will you just shut up?” Vyncent snaps at him, wheeling around on one heel and planting himself in the hallway. He rubs at his head, clearly exhausted. But William is too worried to let him go. “It’s always the fucking William show in here, good gods.”

“Excuse me?” William asks, reeling. “What? We’ve been dealing with your bullshit for weeks now.”

“My bullshit,” Vyncent scoffs. “Right. You’ve been dealing with my bullshit. It’s not like they’re in your head, Will.”

“Do you know how fucking hard it is to have to deal with this?” William asks. Vyncent crosses his arms and William matches him, scowling until his face hurts. “I’m constantly tiptoeing around you. These past two weeks have been awful.”

“Oh, right, they’ve been so awful for you,” Vyncent says sarcastically.

“I haven’t gotten to talk to you in ages, man,” William says.

“That’s not my fault!”

“So whose is it? Theirs? Mine?”

“I can’t control it!”

“Well we have to do something–”

“William, shut up!” Vyncent shouts. It’s the first time William’s ever heard such volume and force directed at him from Vyncent– sure, Alphonse has yelled at him before, even Strider and Min, but looking into his eyes William knows it’s all Vyncent right now. And he’s angry. “You need to let me deal with this! This isn’t something you can peel apart and investigate, okay? It’s my head. There’s no peeling you can do! Just shut up and leave me the fuck alone!”

That stings. Vyncent refusing him like this feels incomprehensible to William, like a possibility that shouldn’t even exist. They’re a team, they’re not strangers. Far from it at this point. And if something’s happening to Vyncent, William should know, shouldn’t he? But right now, all he sees in Vyncent is anger, pointed straight at him. Annoyance, too. A whole cocktail of disruptive, terrible emotions that make the hair on William’s arm stand on end. Not out of fear– out of a return surge of anger.

“I wish you had left instead of Dakota,” William hisses, feeling vicious and mean and wanting Vynce to hurt just as much as he’s hurting now. "At least he wouldn't be scared to talk about it."

“Oh, wow,” Vyncent snarls. They’re both up in each other’s faces right now, Vynce’s eyes glimmering with rage and hurt. Clearly, William’s words had cut just as deeply as he’d hoped. He’s vibrating, every inch of him trembling as he stares Vyncent down, chin tipped upwards. He can see Vyncent twitch slightly, and knows he’s arguing with someone in his head too, not just with William. Finally, Vyncent spits out, “Low blow, but we both know who’s really scared, here.”

“I’m not scared,” William lies.

“Sure,” Vynce says, laughing bitterly. “Sure, William.”

“I’m not,” William insists.

“Then why don’t you ever look me in the eyes anymore?” Vyncent asks. 

William opens his mouth, and finds he has no answer. He goes to look at Vyncent, but can’t– he can’t even force himself to do it.

“That’s what I thought,” Vyncent says. He steps back. The anger has drained out of his voice. Now, he just sounds tired. “Go to hell, William.”

“Why don’t you just go?” William asks, staring at Vyncent’s nose, his cheeks, his lips. “Why don’t you just leave, then. If you hate me.”

“I didn’t–” Vynce sighs. “Why don’t you leave? If you’re so miserable?”

Again, William doesn’t have an answer. He stands there for a moment, then closes his eyes and exhales. 

“I don’t know,” he says. “I’m just– stuck. Hoping, I guess.” 

“Hoping for what?” Vyncent asks. William scoffs, glancing to the side and shaking his head.

“I don’t know,” he repeats. Then he looks up at Vyncent and finds the strength to look him head on, staring at him. “Why are you here?”

Vyncent looks at him, eyes scouring his face.

“Where else would I go?” he finally says. “Who else would want a weird guy like me?”

“I don’t think you’re weird,” William says, almost on instinct. “And I don’t– I don’t think you’re a coward either, Vynce. I’m sorry.”

“Why did you say that?” Vyncent asks. When Will looks up at him, his gaze is heavy, glancing aside. 

“I– Dunno,” William stutters out. “I guess it all just– hurts.”

Vyncent says nothing for a moment. His eyes narrow and glaze over just slightly, a look William has come to both recognize and despair over. But it only lingers for a second before Vyncent looks over at him and he’s caught, trapped.

“I think the Greats are dying,” Vyncent says slowly, tasting the words like he’s unsure of them. “Or something. I don’t know. But there’s something really wrong with us, Will.”

[dr5amatic]

THAT'S A WRAP ,

a sentence starter prompts list comprised of lyrics from my 2024 spotify wrapped. change verbiage as needed.

you once called me forever, now you still can't call me back.

i think i’m gonna call it off even if you call it love. 

he disappeared from the second that you said “let’s get coffee, let’s meet up.”

i don’t want the world, but i’ll take this city.

my life was a storm since i was born. how could i fear any hurricane?

my give-a-fucks are on vacation.

please don’t go, i love you so.

i just want you to make a move.

everything that kills me makes me feel alive.

you treat me like a stranger, and that feels so rough.

i’m so full of love, i could barely eat.

i feel like no one wants me and i hate the way i’m perceived.

i don’t know why my heart knows that if you’re there then i’ll be alright.

i’m the treasure, baby, i’m the prize.

leave all your love and your longing behind. you can’t carry it with you if you want to survive.

who wants to live forever, babe?

i wanna live a thousand lives with you. i wanna be the one you’re dying to love.

who knew that we’d let it get this bad when it ended?

i’m here right now, right now with you.

if i tell you this is drowning, you’d tell me i’m walking on water.

follow my lead.

you know what they say, “never waste a friday night on a first date.”

i kinda wanna throw my phone across the room.

i’m almost me again. she’s almost you.

there is a special kind of grace in your eyes.

i won’t make my mama proud. it’s going to cause a scene.

it’s not my fault you’re like in love with me.

you had me at “hello,” then you opened up your mouth.

i'll be your light, your match, your burning sun.

you took my light, you drained me down.

i don't know if you love me, or you want me dead

i couldn't utter my love when it counted.

i’m back on my bullshit.

whatever devil's inside you, don't let him out tonight.

last night, a thief came to my house. he came and said, "give me whatever is yours.”

i'm starving, darling. let me put my lips to something.

i don't know what you've been told, but time is running out, no need to take it slow.

i told my friends i was asleep, but i never said where or in whose sheets.

a seven nation army couldn't hold me back.

the only heaven i'll be sent to, is when i'm alone with you.

i stopped caring 'bout a month ago. since then, it's been smooth sailing.

i thought you thought of me better. someone you couldn’t lose.

i wish i could show you more of yourself. i wish i could make you somebody else.

just close your eyes if you think it’s unsightly.

if i crash on the couch, can i sleep in my clothes?

tell your boyfriend if he says he's got beef, that i'm a vegetarian and i ain't fucking scared of him.

this industry's venomous.

an inevitable choice is coming.

though i've handled the wood, i still worship the flame.

why do you assume you’re the smartest in the room?

don't get me venting on friends who resent you.

you can’t live life standing still.

would things be easier if there was a right way?

do i love him? do i hate him? i guess it's up and down.

i think i got too many memories getting in the way of me.

just be yourself. it doesn't matter if it's good enough for someone else.

there’s a lot of room left to grow.

if you can't get what you want, well, it's all because of me.

you can't love anyone, 'cause that would mean you had a heart.

i want this like a cigarette. can we drag it out and never quit?

i'm hoping that somebody will pray for me.

how you been? you settled down? you feelin' right? you feelin' proud?

i love you when you're singing that song.

you just need a better life than this. you need somethin' i can never give.

i don't like walking around this old and empty house.

i know she's been asleep on my side of your bed.

i was afraid of the dark, but now it's all that i want.

jump into the driver's seat and put it into speed drive.

i ain't proud of all the punches that i've thrown.

we’re sinking like a bleeding stone.

heaven ain't close in a place like this.

you know that i want you and you know that i need you.

can you hear the sound of hysteria?

i feel lost since i've found you.

my heart and soul were never mine to own.

we both know exactly what i'm thinking.

i wish you could see the wicked truth.

it's been some time since we last spoke.

all you ever do is turn me down.

i’m not the best you could have attained.

it was only a kiss.

why has all of me become yours?

i think it's time to get out.

this is a big mistake.

i think about you even when i'm not thinking.

let this season of love stay forever.

let's forget who we are for one night.

take a deep breath my dear.

you screw me and i’ll screw you too.

you and i are nursing a poison that never stung.

i might change your contact to "don't leave me alone.”

heaven’s door is getting farther and farther away.

there goes all i ever wanted, how'd i ever fail so soon?

i loved you then and i love you now.

i'm a sorry sucker and this happens all the time.

it's like i loved you so much that now i just hate you.

if home is where the heart is, then we're all just fucked

i don't know what you're expecting of me.

i wanna get in trouble. i wanna start a fight.

you better run.

[theevilfishywizard]

Biblically accurate angel: "okay, Tony Pepperoni youre free to go, other Willy Stamplers, Rebecca Swallows Oak-Garcia, Glen Clo-"

Paeden: "whats goin on?"

Biblically accurate angel: "Oh... hello Paeden. Someone made a wish on the throne of heaven, and now everyone who was killed by Willy Stampler is free to go back to the moral plane."

Paeden: "aw hell yeah. Arright, how we doin this?"

Biblically accurate angel: "ah... no Paeden, it seems you are mistaken. You don't get to go back. You were killed by- lets see- heart failure. Not Willy Stampler."

Paeden: "sure sure sure, but whose fault was that?"

Biblically accurate angel: "... genetics. And enlarging yourself."

Paeden: "yeah but see- you gotta look at the whole picture here. walk with me my main man."

Biblically accurate angel: "no."

Paeden: "I was frank right? And then I died. And then Willy was all like "yo man, you gotta join my gang of shitty dads." and frank was like "nah I'm gonna go to heaven and chill and be totally fucking sick." and then Willy was like "uh uh uh I don't like that fuck you im gonna make you 8 and sticky and an orphan and destined to die"

Biblically accurate angel: "I dont see how that is at all relevant to Willy Stampler being responsible for your death."

Paeden: "Frank was SUPPOSED to just die but because of Willy I'm Paeden and I guess that was the best thing he ever did because I am, after all, the best."

Biblically accurate angel: "you're saying that because he made you, he's responsible for your death?"

Paeden: "yeah pretty much"

Biblically accurate angel: "by that logic, every parent is their child's murderer for the crime of bringing them into the world."

Paeden: "no no but see here's the part your missing. He made me AS an anchor. Like he made me and knew I had to die in a totally awesome fight with a dragon and there was no way around it."

Biblically accurate angel: "I suppose you have a... point. However, it's so indirect that his involvement in your death is argueable at best, non existent at worse. He didn't physically deal the last blow."

Paeden: "you're tellin me there's not ANYONE on that list who was killed indirectly?"

Biblically accurate angel: *looks down at Terry jrs name on the clipboard of newly revived souls* "the other deaths were on direct orders."

Paeden: "is making someone with the intention of them having to die not direct enough for you? Was it God's fault that Jesus died?"

Biblically accurate angel: "well... I would argue-"

Paeden: "you're bet your ass it was! And I'm basically Jesus. Would you let Jesus lose out on his second chance at life?"

Biblically accurate angel, realizing theyre getting paid 4 bucks an hour and if they let this happen they wont have to deal with Paeden for hopefully awhile: "you know what? Fine. Whatever."

Paeden: "and i get to come back as a real flesh boy"

Biblically accurate angel: "sure."

Paeden, being brought back to moral life: "hell yeah! Eye of the tiger baby! Paeden is so back! I'm gonna do so much more crime this time!"

Biblically accurate angel, praying under their breath: "please end up in hell."

[teenietinytangerine]

-.

THE HELLMOUTH'S TEETH;

main pairing: oc x yoongi

oc/reader: Saein, a Slayer from Buffy The Vampire Slayer universe, years after the end of the show. casted in my head as Go Minsi. yoongi: a Gumiho, the Fox, whose particularity is to feed through people's fear and pleasure.

genre: smut, fantasy.

word count: 11k (how? i swear this is pure smut.)

note: finally done and put together! this is soooo self-serving, i'm so sorry, lots of teasing and they are so horny.

summary:

The prophecies. The legends. Hwachang, a misty city in the south of Seoul was sitting prettily on top of an Hellmouth - a fissure between realities known to ooze demons, attract local bloodsuckers, kooky wizards and the occasional mummy, but nothing to worry! For the Slayer (or one of anyway) had made it her home and kept the lid on the infernal soup. Somewhat. As best as she could while juggling her two part-times and a gig in a rockband. But  stake a vampire's heart above all! Or fix a Gumiho issue. A sneaky nine-tailed fox, that a sunny-smiled client had brought to her door, and with payment for a change! But things get out of control, and next thing the Slayer knew, she had volunteered to be the Fox's source of food. Thankfully, it wasn't too unpleasant.

preview:

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Maybe if it hadn't been after the bath, maybe if it hadn't been after that kiss, maybe if, tonight especially, she didn't need the escapism like a drug, then maybe only it would have been easier to refuse his attentions and focus on her promise to make that Fox relinquinsh control and succomb to his own pleasure. His breath alone was making her delicate skin quiver, her back bent towards his marble-fleshed torso, so immersed in the hymn of their frenzy, that, one by one, her senses shivered and marvelled. Dangerous.

PART I. LUST AT FIRST SIGHT.

chapter 1. The Proposition.

“What did you say?” 

Yoongi asked, his voice cracking under the surprise, and his usually mythical face breaking into an expression of utter disbelief. Saein remained unphased to the Gumiho suddenly looking like an old man in need of his reading glasses, and reiterated:   

“I said I’ll feed you.”

“Do you even know what that means?”

“I did my research. I know.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, not unamused. In front of him, there she stood, the Slayer, the night's spawns nightmare in tight leather and high ponytail. One he ever only heard tales of, until a week ago when she barged into the nice little haunted house he had made for himself and ruined it. Not only the traps were all reduced to shreds, but the furniture and the wallpaper were impossible to save, it was going to cost him the guy who apparently actually owned the house a fortune to replace. Oh, and she beat the living crap out of him.

And now, there she was.

“Why would you do that?”

“You are such a picky eater!"

“I’m just being careful with spicy food. Especially ones who leave me with souvenirs.”

The Gumiho pulled down his collar to expose the scar she had left above his collarbone, still red and painful even to only look at.

Now would be a good time to precise how worned-out Yoongi looked. The dark high-end and tailored modern hanbok he was wearing only highlighted how sickly pale his skin had turned, and his posture was betraying the pain his body was silently putting him through. It wasn't about the wounds, or the bruising, or the beat down that refused to heal as it usually would have in a matter of minutes. It was the hunger.

Saein sighed and grimaced. “You told me it was my fault you were homeless, my fault if you were gonna starve without all your booby traps, and goat heads falling from the ceilling-

"Chicken heads."

"Chicken heads falling from the ceilling, and I just, I thought about it. Now, let me say, I don't agree that it was wrong of me to save those poor people from being Beetlejuiced to near-death and their fear being ingested by a literal hell being, but... I checked, and you didn't kill anyone, and I guess you're right, you can't help how you feed, so...”

“So? You’re going to…”

“Not let you starve.”

This time, the Fox busted out in an incredulous laughter. The girl was messing with him, showing up with all five feet of snark at his door and empty promises in a leather trench coat.

He bent over, squinting. "Really? Want me to scare you, little Slayer?”

"No... Not the diet I had in mind."

"That's what I- uh?"

"You know..."

Her eyes did the talking.  

"Oh,

He blinked,

Oh."

She never lacked confidence, Saein, but this was a bold move even for her. Paying for the impulsivity of her desires, her hair still messy from the run and shoes muddied by the path. All she knew was that she needed an escape. Needed to scratch an itch.

So there she walked in, in the lair of what she fought yesterday, succombing to a pull she should not have felt when they were dusting the walls with each other's bodies, and standing on the threshold of the theaters of horrors, too at-ease in its throes to shiver at the sight anymore. 

Thankfully, every doubt she may have had were obscured by the sheer strength of her stubbornness. So much so that, when the Gumiho approached at an excruciatingly slow pace, honoring the feline in him, all he could read on her pretty, provocative face was her dare to take her at her word. (Or, you know, take her.)

For a second, even silence was held in the air as they stared shamelessly at each other. Judging. Gauging.

He looked otherworldly, with a hint of depravity, but she knew that already.

She looked delicious, with a hint of sardonic, but he knew that already.

“Really,” she answered the question he hadn't asked yet but was all over his face. She could swear his pupils enlarged, but yet the doubt remain. How could she convince this demon to bed her already?

Saein grabbed the necklace hanging low from his neck and yanked him closer. She repeated, softer this time, mellow almost, in a whisper that only made sense at this distance.

“Really.”

Her eyes fell naturally on his lips. Beautiful, sharply carved but full, bitable lips... As she imperceptibly leaned, encouraged by his stunned silence, Yoongi suddenly pulled back, using his height to create some distance between them again.

“If you’re not interested-”

“That’s not what- Hm. You are serious.”

“I'm... Curious.”

He lifted an unconvinced eyebrow.

“And you trust me?”

“ … I do, for this. It’s your expertise, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

He smacked his lips, seemingly deep in thoughts into the spiral of his turmoils.

She had a way about her, the Slayer, a tranquil confidence enveloped in fiery defiance. Until this stormy night, he had only seen an annoying force of nature, an improchable champion with the occasional touch of sarcasm and terrible, terrible jokes. But now... Now, she was offering herself up with an unbearable human fragility that was, oh, so tantalizing. 

The sweetest bait that just might be worth the honey it held. And gods, what a lie it would be to say he hadn't wanted to devour her at every heartbeat of hers.

He couldn’t help himself but fall in it. 

It was all instincts, wasn't it? He was an expert at this after all. Who was he to refuse a willing meal when he was this farmished?

His fingers tucked back a strand of her hair behind her ear, and the first skinship came. Through it, the Gumiho could feel what she felt. This much wasn't enough to probe through the tempest of feelings he found, but just enough of an hint to get the hint. 

She wasn’t lying. There was no trap, none intentional anyway. She just... She just wanted this. All he could pick up clearly above the surface was her anticipation, and lust. And yes, lust, he knew how to deal with.

His thumb fluttered along her jaw all the way right below her lips.

Saein, as if hypnotized, forgot her breath held in suspension, as he brought her slowly to the border of him.

"Still sure?" He inquired.

His voice had changed. The traces of the wounded, unsure man had been replaced by the glory of the Gumiho, confident and at ease in his domain. Still, he wanted to give her one last chance to slip away if she wished.

 But she didn't.

"Still."

Her stare fell down on the curves of his own parted mouth, deliberately, making her intentions plain, leaning in to let their breathings tangled. So slowly that every second became deliciously agonizing, she was guiding her face towards his. Their noses grazed and...

“Not like this.” A grin stretched on his lips. “I’ve got a ritual of sorts.”

chapter 2. The Bath.

When Yoongi came out of the room he had disappeared to, he turned back to where he had left her, half expecting to see her gone. Instead, the Slayer was removing her leather coat, revealing the white tanktop underneath, and set it carefully on a chair. She must have heard him because her head suddenly turned to him.

"Everything okay?"  

He nodded. She walked towards him, throwing him a then-what-are-we-waiting-for look and passed him inside.

He had led them into the bathroom, but it wasn't any bathroom.

The sun in its dying hours was coating the wood and dark stones. The bath, as its center piece, encased in the ground, was in the form of a lotus flower and surrounded by a plethora of plants, growing their roots and leaves in-between vials and candles. It was as if stepping into a japanese bathhouse.  

Out of nowhere, water began flowing and the steam spiraled up in the air, drawing strokes in the beams of orange light. With another flick of the wrist, the wooden curtains gently fell. The candles, as well as firefly-like lights appearing out of thin air and began faintly floating, brightening the room in a million stars.

"That's your ritual? A bath?"

  She only realised he was behind her when his hands adventured on her hips as he was leading her playfully ahead.

"You spend your nights chasing cadavres in cemeteries, can you blame me?" He said, leaning in on the crook of her neck. His index slipped under the band of her tanktop, on her bare skin, creating unanticipated tickles. Damn it, she could not lose it this early.  

"Alright now, that's part of the whole schtick, it doesn't mean I'm not familiar with soap-" Her protestation and poor attempt at clinging onto her fake offense, was blown out like a candle flame as he placed a chaste kiss below her ear.

"Shh..."

Saein became overly aware of the sound of her own heartbeat.

The temperature and humidity of the room had climbed too high already to remain comfortable in there, at least not fully clothed. He pulled her closer. His fingers had only grown more explorative under her shirt, but yet kept their composure in that they seemed to only graze her skin out of curiosity, trailing paths of pins and needles. As her head started slowly spinning, she leaned her weight back into him.

"...So hot, in there."

Saein gestured towards removing her top, avid to dive in the dance but he held her in place.

"Don't. Let me." His voice had changed, deeper, authoritative, as if the mask of the Man was fissuring, and something else was piercing through.

The Fox, still behind her, removed the piece of coton out of her, leaving her bra as the sole protector of her bust. Was she taking it too far? Should she run? But those damn fingers, tracing thoughtless patterns on her neck, her shoulders, her back, while she was biting her lip down, were impossible to deny.

Fighting every instinct to stay put, she let him play with her, ravaging her with the most innocuous motions while every fiber of her being were screaming for permission to pin him on the floor and turn this slow dance into a savage debauchery. But he wouldn't let her, and she knew why. There was a savour in that leisure.

A silent sigh escaped her when he suddenly undid her denim button and the baggy jeans dropped to her ankles. She felt him so close behind her but he was careful to never let his body brush her more than a few seconds, here and there, only in the most benign parts of her.

Gently, but expertly, he stripped every single piece of clothing off of her, the necklace first, her bra disappeared with another kiss on her shoulder, and her panties just slidding down. During which, he always prevented her to speed up the process by assisting in any kind of way, or even turning around to face him despite her attempts that he only shut down with whispers.

"Trust me, just with this." And somehow, she did.

Being starked naked did not seem to bother the Slayer. It did felt only natural in this place, in his hands. The volutes of steam were her clothes.

Yoongi only left her back to grab her hand and lead her inside the bath.

By the time she sank in, Saein was losing the thread of her thoughts in the sensitive mess he had made of her skin. The velvet of the warm water over her millions of pins and needles felt like a welcomed healing balm, and she released a pleased sigh.

In her bubbles, she was drifing as if in a cozy hug while he stood dry and fully dressed, sitting himself down by the edge of the bath, a smile floating on his lips, absorbed in his view. Still now, some part of him was expecting her to stand up in a furry, throw a punch at him and leave. But there she was, the mighty Slayer, her eyes coated with a hazy nitescence, her jet hair swaying in the wake of the waves and petals, and the most delighted expression painting her visage.

Beautiful.

"How are you feeling?"

She breathed in and stretched.

"Hm, warm, good." She seemed to suddenly remember his existence as she turned to him. A sly smile and the mischievous siren slid in the water to his side.

She pulled on his sleeve. "Come."

With care, he removed her grasp and, instead, turned her easily  in an embrace and brought her closer to him, keeping her back against the edge of the bath and therefore removing himself from her vision while invading once again her space, his nose straying by her ear.

"No, thank you. I like the view better from here."

Out of thin air, Yoongi pulled a sponge already foaming and began bathing her, washing properly her arms, her feet, her thighs; brushing innocently over her chest, hovering prudishly between her legs... When she strayed too far ahead in the water, the Gumiho had to bend over to bring her back with a firm pull.

"Come back here", he murmured to her ear and the sensation of his breath sent a pulse in her belly.

"Stop teasing me." She nearly moaned.

She could hear him hold back a chuckle.

"Already?"

He was worse than a cat with a mouse, and the anticipation was now killing her.

"Alright, then." He took a nibble at her earlobe while his hand abandoned the sponge to travel with purpose to her breasts.

Saein muffled a gasp when she felt the light touch turn into an intentional, powerful hold onto her bosom, contrasted by a sly thumb greating her nipple, waking it up, soon joined by his forefinger to puck her bud.

Yoongi readjusted himself to be able to see the way his palm cupped under her flesh, how her nipples reacted to his touch and how her breathing grew deeper and deeper. His digits was exploring her sensitivities, circling with precision and mirroring on the other, wondering how they would feel between his teeth... Hm, focus!

Every tremor of hers was improving his aim and soon she came to regret the time he teased her for now all his attentions seemed to be finding the most sensible inches of her. Through his fingertips, the nine-tailed fox could sense the wave of pleasure rising in her, the slow churning he was spurring, and only when it reached the tide he craved for, one of his hand slipped all the way down to the warmth of her intimacy.  

The moment his fingers brushed against her clitoris, a surge sent electricity in her entire body. He had built a craving the moment he had refused her that kiss that was just starting to be fulfilled. Saein held back a moan as he began exploring, gingerly fondling her button at the rhythm of her twitches, stroking her piano keys and figuring out her harmony. It's only when she dropped her head back on his shoulder with a contained groan that he noticed something was off.

He froze, ceasing coldly all his attentions despite the verbal protest she opposed him, leaving her oh so lonely, and frowned.

"Are you holding back your voice?"

"Uh? Why would I..."

He scoffed.

"You are!" The Gumiho couldn't tell if he was outraged or amused.

"I thought you wanted to feed me, what kind of lukewarm meal is that?"

 This was her first chance to properly breathe among the steam that was now completely enveloping them.

"Maybe, I'm just not the loud type" Shameless, the huntress that had made herself a willing prey wouldn't even turn her head to see the disapproving face of a man that was not buying any of that bullshit.

"Oh, really?"

Thank goodness she could not see the glint that had lit up in his eyes. Without warning, his fingers took back hold of what they had abandoned and, neglecting the gentleness they had showed previously, threw her back into such a tidal wave that nearly defeated her right here and there.

The moment she showed signs of reaching aphrodisia, he pulled her up, slightly, with his arm around her waist, while his thumb took over for his finger to fray itself a path through her intimity, welcoming him by squizzing around his digit at every millimeters acquired.

A long, loud and clear moan escaped her lips and fell with the taste of candy into his ears. That little bastard.

But he doesn't gloat further. He knows he opened the floods he meant to open and Saein showed no signs, despite her annoyance, to close them again, getting louder and louder as his fingers slipped deeper and deeper, with an expert cadence and making her forget why she ever felt embarrassed, or even where she was.

The tsunami announcing in her was now reflected in her unrest body making their own, actual, waves in that bath of his, kicking unintentionally. She reached for the edge of the bathtub for support but instead found the back of his arm. Getting the silent message, with a kiss in the nook of her neck, he kept her pinned against the tub, one hand on her stomach while the other was bringing her closer and closer to frenzy.

The fox knew, at her expense, when to slow down to only push her further, higher, torturing her by teasing a release that he removed immediately by changing the rhythm and scaring her with the desperation for it she was reaching.

The faster her heart was beating, the closer the ebullition was heating up in her, the more energy was pulsing from her to him, clouding his judgment and restraint. His kiss on her neck turned into frenzied licks, his tongue tasting the salt of her skin, loosing himself in the sheer power of her arousal feeding him. Literally. His strength was coming back, his wounds were healing, but the Gumiho had not realised it yet, nor was it in anyway on his mind, for at this instant, he was completely drunk on her.

Another va-et-viens, a crooked pressure at a nook he had noticed made her particularly tingle and -

"Fuck, fuck!"

Her toes curled. Every fiber of her being tensed as the pleasure flooded in and out of her. Yoongi barely slowed down for a minute, letting them both ride it, only focusing on not letting her drag him with her, until he felt her hand try to push his away. He held on.

"Not yet. More." He groaned, that bass in his voice more guttural than ever.

His movements picked up and the Slayer that wasn't even properly done riding her first orgasm, nearly squeaked as the second came on the horizon.

"What?" The word, though singular, struggled to come out from her already busy vocal chords, in between her pantings and puffings. Her being was intoxicated, still high in that nine cloud, and every nerve exposed. He could not be serious. 

"You can go higher."

His velvety tone did not align with the manner in which he took back hold on her clitoris with his thumb while the rest of his long and articulate fingers were arching in her without mercy, using every bit of knowledge they had gained. His increasing scorch breath tickling her lobe, his expertise on her loins, Saein could only recognize that he was right, she could get higher.  

She was kicking the water and cursed his name in unspeakable languages, when, suddenly her sensual frame calmed in the waters and eyes rolled back. It came as if she was falling in the void, but was caught again, and was floating in an ether made of ecstasy. An ecstasy that the Fox was slurping on like a fine tantalizing wine, impervious to how dangerously drunk on it he was getting. He guided her through it, driving her through the surges almost religiously, their hearts beating at the same cadence, his forehead resting on the back of her head, until, little by little, they became ripples.

Then only, he withdrew.

Yoongi let go of her feverish body he was holding up until now... Only to immediately catch her again when he noticed the doll with broken strings was slipping down too fast and too low in the waters. He snapped back to reality.

"Oi, careful there."

The siren, in the end, was only human. Her eyes, confused, drained but coated in delirious bliss, rolled back to meet his. Saein, not quite back from that dimension she just visited, smiled faintly through her euphoria.

"... Damn...", the monster whispered.

He sat her back up in the bath, more securely. After making sure she was holding up on her own, he let go to lean back on the edge. His chin in his palm, Yoongi watched her come back to earth, fascinated. If he had been more honest, he might have admitted she wasn't the only one that needed to clear her head and settle down. However, because the fox's nature is to deceive, he put his light-headedness and aroused senses on the account of not having this kind of meal in quite some time. He was just out of practice.

Saein was observing him too, in a haze, through the steam. Everything was quieter, a welcomed silence only bothered by their breathing and the water splashing.

She had floated to a nearby corner, still close to him but far enough she could look at him properly. He hadn't let her sneak a peek of his face while he was playing with her. Now, there he was, almost glowing in the candlelight, a look of pure satisfaction on his fine lines.

Her gaze took the time she never had to feast on his smooth though a bit damp skin, the sharp shape of his eyebrows, his long dark eyelashes, the round curve of his nose only to fall, without fail on his lips. His full, enticing, slightly apart lips.

Two fruits ready for reaping, fruits that he had denied her before, only to tease them on her neck, made only redder and gorged.

It happened as if in a dream.

She didn't realize she had been moving, nor did he understand her intentions until, with barely a touch, with the softest of collision, her lips locked themselves with his.

His eyes widened as hers close shut.

She kissed him as she would take the first bite for the very first taste of a summer peach. It was a slow kiss, a tender kiss. She kissed him and it felt like the silkiest caress, and yet it sent volts through every fiber of his.

Impervious, a tender smile of hers broke it.

"That was nice."  

Taken aback, the Fox blinked.

He would have stayed there, frozen, if in her attempt to return to her previous position, she hadn't slipped down and nearly drowned again before he caught back her arm (and his senses). He pulled her drained body out of the bath. She had passed out. Maybe he went a bit too far.

"Alright, time for a nap."

With a swift movement, and a surnatural strength restored thanks to her, Yoongi got her up into his arms, grabbing a towel he snuggled her into, and carried her out, to the bedroom.

.cookie.

Yoongi sat her on the mattress, handing her an old tee-shirt, as she mumbled, still half in a dream's state.

"I'm not sleepy."

"Your eyes are currently closed."

Crunching her nose to grimace the offense-taken, she then proceeded to open, with terrible difficulty, her betrayer of eyes. She managed to see the blurry silhouette of him in-between her slow blinks, and the white tee on her laps. She slipped it on.

As he was about to leave, she called for him.

"How about you?"

"What about me?"

Saein, in a torpor state, reached for the rim of his pants before he could slipped away.

"Don't you want me to take care of you?"

The cocky smile he drew on his face was not quite as confident as he thought it was, still rattled by the k-, by earlier. He gently removed her hand and leaned to grab her shoulders and lay her down on the bed.

"It's your pleasure that feeds me, not mine. So... I need you rested, and comfortable, and happy. Sleep, I'm begging you."

The Slayer could not deny the exhaustion that had taken over her, not when she could scarcely get back up on her own, and her will faded away when she felt the softness of the comforter. Still, she grabbed his shirt before he could back away.

"But it still feels good, right?"

This time, he laughed. "I guess it's not too bad."

Now, her smile, that was a cocky smile.

With no warning, she pulled him, and he was suddenly forced to remember who he was dealing with and her strength as he nearly smashed into her if he hadn't caught himself with an elbow, inches away from her face.

Yoongi gulped, and stared at her temple, desperatly not looking at anything else (which is ironic if you ask me, considering he was seen every naked contour of her not but ten minutes ago, but don't tell the fox).

Saein, on the other hand, seemed to crave the proximity.

"I'll sleep, if you sleep."

"I don't-" But every protestation died in his throat for she was already rolling on the side, at his relief, but not without taking his right arm with her, forcing him into an embrace. She hugged his hand against her chest like a child with a toy, finally letting herself sink into a pillow and in rest. 

I guess i could use a nap. Giving up, (without too much of a fight if I do say so myself)  the Gumiho made himself comfortable and soon slipped into Morpheus arms, his nose nuzzled into her hair.

chapter 3. In Silky Sheets.

Snuggled against him, and his warmth, his slow breathing.

For the first time in years, the Slayer had dreamt of nothing. Her mind had been preoccupied with rest only. Even as she rose back into consciousness, the scent of serenity accompanied her. Was it the way the dying-sun's light was turning golden through the dancing curtains, or the summer breeze of the evening lulling on her cheeks?

Saein wondered why she was fighting the urge to let the embrace of oblivion wrap her once again, when something chuffled in her back. Ah yes, the Fox. The sneaky little Gumiho she had thrown herself at and yet could not find any regrets for, thus far, was now innocently dozing off behind her.

Her sleepy gaze fell on his curled hand, right above hers, still exactly where she had put it before her nap, forcing the mythical creature to cuddle her from behind. Saein was, without meaning to, noting that hand's every detail: the paths his veins were drawing on his skin, the pinkish color of his knuckles, how long his pianist-like fingers extended despite being now crouched over themselves...

Her mind wandered towards those fingers'... abilities. Past achievements, if you will. Not those, you dirty mind. The way he could sense and absorb emotions, but not any emotion, just pleasure. Fear and pleasure. An empath that could feed, and starve on her euphorias and terrors. Her thoughts seemlessly drifted to what those fingers did to her only a few hours before, how they felt on her body, in her body... The memory alone was enough to bring back the electric warmth.

Nevertheless, it felt like trying to remember a dream that kept escaping her. The more she tried to recount all the details, the more she grew restless. More aware of his proximity, right next to her, still seeming too far. She couldn't help keep staring at those fingers, so close to her own hand, so easily reachable, and yet both remaining motionless.  

Suddenly, it occurred to her.

Once again, somehow, she had her back to him. She wanted to see his face.

Suddenly hyperaware of every movement she made, and every sound rising, Saein carefully rolled herself over, but the change of position slipped his unconscious hand to her waist. Damnit. Nevermind, her goal was reached.

Now, facing each other, she could see him. Half his face snuggled into a pillow, the Fox looked peaceful. Innocent, even. Incredibly human, not a single feature betraying his nature. His raven hair were falling across his eyelids, moving with the breeze.

 "You're..."  Gorgeous. It was stupid how gorgeous he was. It would be pointless trying to explain the harmony of his features, he might as well have been sculpted by the fabric of the universe itself.  

"Hm?"

His cave-like grumbling voice stopped her cold in her tracks, realizing she had leaned mere inches away from him. 

The Gumiho's eyes fluttered open. For a moment, they were both frozen. Then, Saein tilted her head and innocently echoed him.

"Hm?"

The Gumiho's eyes fluttered open.

"What are you do-"

He murmured, barely woken up, and unable to process the situation. He was only aware of her face closing the distance on his. He recognized the same look she had given him earlier, in the bath, right before she...

 If only she knew how he was looking back at her, completely puzzled and adoring with defeat the confusion she was putting him through, but her attention was entirely on her own realization of his absolute sinful beauty she was gorging herself in.

Without a thought in her head, Saein swallowed the last distance between them and sealed their lips in a mellow kiss. This time, the fox was not as taken aback as he was before. Almost instinctively, he reciprocated, but the kiss was only buttefly and flew away before he could think of his actions. Or succomb to them.

"You've got to stop doing that", he mumbled behind his breathe. They were close enough to hear any whisper from each other.

"Why?"

Why?  Why? This was not how things usually go. By now, she should be miles away from here, actually she shouldn't even be in his bed. Actually, a Slayer, should not even be in the same city than him. Definitively not offer herself up as a midnight snack. Her scent should not be all over his sheets, and he should not be woken up by the satin touch of her kiss.

She rubbed her nose against his. He stiffened.

"It's not what I usually ..."

"It's not part of the ritual?"

"Something like that." But you're not pushing her off.

Saein shifted but maintained the distance, or lack of, between them, and smacked her lips.

"Hm, you said you feed on my pleasure, so...  Can't you feel it?"

He did.

Every brush against his nose, the slightest touch of her wandering lips hovering right above his, waiting for nothing more than permission. A wildfire of a woman. With every skinship, he felt her, completely, her and the flood of emotions she carried. More than the kiss, it was the eagerness that made him spiral. She was so .. What was she? 

Yoongi chuckled.

"By the hells, what did you dream about to wake up in that state?"

But he couldn't help himself, he couldn't deny that she was stirring up his own hunger that had only been added up since the steam rose at an alarming pace.

As if she could read his defenses melt away, her fingers ventured along his neck and travelled all the way to his jaw.

"I dreamt of a bath" She can't hold back the mischievous smile that carves those lovely dimples on her cheeks, flushed with fever and heavenly heat.

"A good bath?" The gumiho slightly rose up, making sure to never wander an inch away from the distance they had established, their breath mingling together.  

Her smile widened. "It wasn't too bad, I suppose."

Saein's fingers reached the side of his face, and tucked a piece of hair behind his ear.

That's all it took.

Yoongi succumbed to the black hole-like attraction. The moment his lips grabbed hers with force, a strange shiver tumbled down the back of his neck, running down his pearly spine and lazily spread over the curve of his loins.

Moving with nothing but the intoxication of the moment, disguising as two lovers held in time, their mouths met with demands and generously. Devouring each other. While her hand dropped along his neck to his chest, his abandonned their reluctance to find their way up her waist.

Saein didn't wait to take over. To his surprise, she suddenly rolled over him and saddled him, squizzing his midriff with her thighs and not letting him enough time to reciprocate before she shut him up back into their activity. Her hands slid along his busy sharp jaw, steering his face to her every whim. She guided the depth of the kiss to the heights of her expectations.

Nearly overcame by the softness of him, she was doing her best to hold back the instinct of ravaging her way through her desire, to savour every nerve electrified, but she couldn't bear it for long before she let both of them melt into the kiss, her eyelids closing fully as the feeling overtook her.

The chaste kiss was far gone. They were inhaling each other, noses colliding, alternating the softness of the lips with the mordant of the teeth, the tongues growing in dare, exploring how far the other would let them go and neither finding the will not to slip further and further into the rushed adrenaline.

When they reached the end of their breath, the lips naturally came to a still, yet still interlocked. Their sighs combined. Held between the seconds, there was like a silent question in suspension, from one body to another. And an answer. From him, especially, right under her seat.

There was a reason the Gumiho did not kiss. Although the mythical creature fed through every touch, his mouth remained the true mean to do so, and therefore, the most sensitive part of him.

She made his head spin, dangerously. He had a hard time focusing enough on her pleasure to consume it without getting distracted by his. He got so dismayed by his own efforts to snap out of it that he didn't notice one of her hand had forsaken his hair to travel down his chest and work on the buttons of his shirt, one by one.

He only noticed after she freed his mouth, even hungrily pursuing her in vain because she was caressing her way down his neck, leaving a trail of kisses on his trembling skin. When she reached his collarbone, all the buttons had come undone, and she could not help but stop to take in the view.

Before moving any way down further, she straighten herself, sitting back on him, squeezing her thighs around his midriff. Yoongi was having a hard time catching his breath, his eyes slightly rolled back, his mouth still hanging open. He looked both ethereal and lost in ether at once. Her gaze followed the trace of her own fingers on the muscles of his wide and defined chest, feasting on the pins and needles she saw appear behind.

"Not bad," she said, bitting her bottom lip.

"Not bad," he repeated.

With the sun coming from behind her, the Slayer looked divine. The Fox beheld her and her messy onyx hair dripping down in a sea on her shoulders, the silhouette of her sculpted waist through the white tee-shirt, and more so tantalizing was her enthranced gaze. Then, of course, there was her naked thighs pressing against his bare torso, and how if she were to move back ever so slightly...

His eyes widened when she proceeded to do just that, but instead of following through on his thoughts, she merely bent back to kiss, with tenderness, his pec. She was putting all her attention on how the muscles of his chest reacted to her touch, tensing up and releasing, caressing the smooth skin before adventuring herself onto the most enticing parts: the brown pinkish nipples.

Her teeth brushed over, then bit above it, before remembering what it felt like, him teasing her the same way before. Her sweet tongue tasted it, envelopped itself on the candy, playing with the other with her digits, exhorting a deep muffled grunt she had never heard out of him.

So, he was feeling it too. 

Her rigor only grew from here, salivating and massaging and feeling him tensed at every couture for it.

Yoongi didn't just lost control, he wasn't sure he could remember the meaning of the word. Admittedly, it had been a while since he had been on the receiving end but by the name of all that is evil, what the fuck.

When he felt her diabolical hand sneak down his belly, following his happy trail, he suddenly pulled himself back up. The Fox let her plummet on the mattress, probably more abruptly than he'd intended, and jumped out of bed on his feet.

With a forced laugh, one hand rubbing his neck, as if he just remembered something that could not wait, he put all his attentions on rebuttoning his shirt back on.

"Ah! I almost forgot! You're human, you gotta be hungry!" Parsed lips, eye contact nowhere to be seen.

Saein was too stunned to speak. Her eyes succinctly fell down below his waist but she did not comment on what she saw and he pretended not to notice.

He continued with a faster pace. "I take care of my guests, I'm not going to make you starve, I'm a demon, not a monster. Wait here."

Before she had the chance to riposte, or comprehend the sudden switch, he was gone in a storm.

chapter 4. I Want To Hear You Moan.

A few minutes later, they were sitting down, criss crossed on the rug, around the tea table of the living room. The night had come down. Saein was slurping on the ramen he had placed in front of her. To her surprise, he was slurping on his as well.

"You can eat?"

"Of course."

"I just assumed... Since..." She gestured vaguely in his direction, pointing at all of him.

The Slayer was used to her bloodsuckers who swore by nothing else but their sanguine juice. Even Taehyung, as sweet as he was, frowned in disgust at their human feast. Truth is, nothing from the Hellmouth had share noodles with her before.

"Well, it doesn't actually keep me alive, but I can still taste it." Yoongi procedeed to further demonstrate and slurped loudly on his noodles, maintaining eye contact. He put down the bowl with a satisfied smirked.

"Oh."

The Fox chuckled, amused by her deadpan answer.

"What? Am I getting a little too normal and human for you, Slayer?"

How dare he even implied she would chicken out after whatever the hell happened in that bedroom. She held his stare and, rising her chin with a sly smile, she answered,

"I think I'm the one who's getting a little too freaky for you."

The word choice made him choke on his ramen.

"What does that mean?"

Saein sighed and put down her cup on the table that seperated them.

"It means, I've got to start patrolling in an hour. Slayer duties, cemeteries, all the usual shabang."

The banter in him find itself extinguished. Yoongi plopped back down against the sofa he was using as backrest. His voice dropped.

"I'm not holding you back, you can go."

"I don't want to go. I have time."

He raised an unconvinced eyebrow.

Saein smacked her lips, seemingly deep in thoughts on how to phrase what weighted on her mind. Suddenly, she scooched closer to him and continued with honey in her tone.

"I want to stay, I do. But. If we're gonna keep going, and I hope we do, I'm gonna need some, hmm, reciprocity."

His eyebrows rose.

"Reciprocity?" He repeated, incredule.

She nodded. "Hm, hm."

"Reciprocity. Reciprocity? I know how to reciprocate, I've been reciprocating! No one has ever complained of my reciprocating skills before."

He could not have been more offended, he was a fantastic lover! Being a great lay was his whole shtick by the thousand hells. He had made her come twice with his fingers alone not even an hour ago, for crying out loud. He had felt how good she felt. There were no doubt she enjoyed their time. None. Right?

"Great, then let's do it. You gave, a lot." Was that a shadow of a blush on her cheeks? But he was hanging too close to every word she said to notice. "Now, it's my turn. I want to hear you moan."

All he could do was hide the shock behind a half-laugh, half scoff.  "Oh you-, you-"

"What? Afraid of losing control, little fox?"

When did she had gotten so close to him? This trickster of a woman was on her knees and toes, hands politely on the floor shifting her weight forward, her cocky expression shining through.

The tease got the exact effect she was hoping for.

She knew she had won the moment a pernicious glint appeared in his outraged yet burning dark stare.

In a flash, he grabbed her doll frame and pulled her effortlessly on his lap. His eyes filled themselves with a new fire.

"Go on then, Slayer, make me."

...

Schblam.

Her back cracked the cabinet in pieces as he slammed her into the wall. She barely felt it. Her legs wrapped around his waist, his hands on her butt, her back, her hair, everywhere. His lips on her neck, jaw, mouth.

Closer, he wants her closer.

They were having a hard time finding their way back to the bed now that they were navigating virtually blind, too busy making out, or more accurately devoring each other, to look up where they were in the room, destroying furniture in the blaze of their fury.

Master of this clumsy waltz, Yoongi had their two braided bodies swirling again in the ether, the ocean of her mane unleashed in the air. She weighed nothing in his arms, but once she had an hold to press against, she was pulling him to her with the strength no human had.

The fusion of their scattered silhouettes melded with complicit mischief. Her thighs tightened around him to ensure her hold, while she was gripping the nape of his neck, her slender fingers lacing caresses of delicacy and furor at the fluctuating demands of her storming mind. 

The tempest of their bodies raged.

In the enticing torpor that had lured him since she took off that stupid leather jacket, Yoongi uncovered the dephth at which her favors were bewitching. In a world that had only felt like an arrid strange land since his arrival, with the exception of the occasional ice americano, she felt, in this instant, warm and welcoming in an intoxicating way. Almost primal.

Giving up on the bed, the Gumiho pinned her higher against the wall, to make sure her ass wouldn't fall on the ground, and to be able to free one his hand to cup her face and deepen their endless kiss, slowing it in a decisive pace, guiding it beyond the teasing manners they had kept it at in their hurry, pressing in with a confused-by-how-good-that-felt frown as the flow of her pleasure slowly rose and sizzled and turned into pure blue energy when it slid into his veins.

Saein was drunk on him. It felt like she just took an entire line of vodka shots of pure him in a matter of minutes, and then went to do vaults to make sure it got straight to her head.

He felt everywhere, pressing her up with the mere weight of his body, and he felt good. Too good. The agreement she had extorted out of him, only to be turn into a challenge, it was all a distant memory. But not quite forgotten yet.

As he imperceptibly went for air, the Slayer got a hold of herself just long enough to remember.

And bit viciously his bottom lip.

"Not," he shut her up with another, lighter kiss, unbothered if not further turned on with her antics, "holding up," his tongue teased hers, it was now a game and an adorable way to turn every end of her every word into a moan "your end of," she tried continue faintly but she momentarily lost herself to the temptation, shutting herself up to bring him closer, to feast on the lips he was urging on hers so eagerly at the will of their heavy breathing, until he was the one demanding more.

She could feel his large palm molding part of her ass in a not-so-innocent way. It would be the easiest thing to lose herself in his touch. To let him lead again. If he can play with that tongue like that everywhere...

But she had other appetites.

Reciprocity.

Abruptly, she turned his head to bite on his ear, pulling on his earring with her canines and groaned with menace, "the bargain."

She didn't see his eyes flutter, nor could have guessed the shiver that had stroke him all the way down.

"'Don't know what you mean."

Yoongi escaped her complains by carrying her to a desk, sitting her down on it brutally, sending papers flying and a lamp crashing down, and started to partake on the nook of her neck while his hands adventured all over her hips and teased her breast, innocently sliding a thumb under a boob while holding her, brushing and pressing.

His mouth, on the other hand, was making no secrets and licked and sucked along every line it find on her neck like it was ice cream and he was starving.  

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Maybe if it hadn't been after the bath, maybe if it hadn't been after that kiss, maybe if, tonight especially, she didn't need the escapism like a drug, maybe then only it would have been easier to refuse his attentions and focus on her promise to herself to make that fox relinquinsh control and succombed to his own pleasure.

His breath alone was making her delicate skin quiver, her back bent towards his marble-fleshed torso, so immersed in the hymn of their frenzy, that, one by one, her senses shivered and marvelled.

Dangerous.

Call it ego, or stupidity, Saein find a remnant of will and kicked him off two steps away from her.

Still panting, they stared at each other, two animals basking in the tipping point.

Yoongi worried for a second that he crossed a line. He was looking at her face, trying to figure out where her mind was at but all he found was her checking him out shamelessly, still dripping in lust, and he immediately caught on.

His black hair were as messy as could be, falling in curls above his wandering eyes. His shirt was holding on to a thread and revealed the sculpted torso she had drooled on and, lastly, the bulge in his pants had grown in a much promising way.

The sight made her lips stretch in a sly smile. Saein took a long breath and stretched like a cat, still perched above him on her desk.

"Reciprocity, remember?"

Without letting him answer, she jumped down and, rising on her tiptoes to reach him, grasped the rebellious locks of his ebony tousled hair, tugged on it to resume the salacious dance of their mouths. Their noses meeting once more, brushing, fleeing, finding each other again, crashing when her top lip was teasing his bottom. Eager mouths learning to savor one another in a religious manner yet never imprisoned.

All the while, she was guiding him with command backwards across the room until his legs gave in under the couch. Yoongi fell backwards on his butt and looked up.

There, in front of him, the divine siren kneeled.

When her fingers ran up along his thighs, he swallowed hard, and she surprised herself at how adorable she found him and his disastrous inability to hide his emotions. That's not what she expected when she got there. Saein had been under the impression that the Gumiho would be much more, hm, jaded, about it all, sex being part of their five fruits and vegetables a day after all. Seeing him on the edge of undone, all the promises of her effect and the obvious waves she rose in him duplicated tenfold her thrill.

She barely brushed over the fabric of his pants up along his inner thigh that he had stopped looking at her, searching some elusive answer on the ceiling, but she didn't need to read his face to know.

"Oh, does it feel good?" she said, sheepishly, a merciless sweet voice.

He let out a silent protest that felt very much like a how-dare-you-be-right to her and breathed in, although it almost sounded like an hiss. He breathed out and closed his eyes. When he reopened them, surprised (or disappointed) she hadn't made of a move, he looked down at her.

"Is that your attempt at... recriprocity?" he said, with a lot of aplomb for someone she had now a good view for how aroused he actually was, and would not take her eyes off of it, not even to meet his, feeding on her own anticipation at all the work she had cut out for herself.

 Yoongi was only wearing light black pants, the silky shirt had already flown away some time during their trip around the living room. Barely a button and a zipper in her way.

"Is that permission to attempt?" Her fingers slid in circles, mere millimeters from the bulge. She knew she was torturing him, and she wouldn't say she didn't take great pleasure in it. It was, after all, a breeze compared to what he did to her (note: Yoongi does not agree with that).

He laughed. "To attempt..." and as he laughed, revealing a gummy smile, she could see him visibly relax, sinking in the couch a little more at each chuckles.

For the second time, the word 'adorable' popped up in her head - which she quickly whisked away. What the hell is wrong with you, Saein? Truth is, it was easy to forget she was in the belly of the beast, for she pathed her way through his fangs so eagerly. Above her, there were little of the Gumiho in his demeanor, and so much of the sweet, charming in his clusminess, a bit confounding but eye-catching Min Yoongi - the one that had pulled on her heartstrings every time he pushed his glasses up his nose when he introduced himself to her in the library. The ruse of a clever Fox.

Don't fall for the trick, not when you already pulled the veil.

Yoongi exhaled out, surrendering to his own battle. "Yeah, yeah it is. Permission."

"Good," she nearly purred.

A swear crossed his lips when he felt her fingers remove the barriers of his pants, sliding the zipper down and popping open the button in an excrutiating slow manner. His pupils widened when she planted a thieving kiss above the elastic waist and started making her way ... back up?

Kissing his pelvis, lacing over his hipbone, gorging up his soft abdomen, his chest, and in her feast, completely disregarding where she had hinted her appetites laid.

Against all of his expectations, her nibbling mouth made her way up fast, lingered just enough to lick his jugular, before she found his lips again.

Hiding his dismay as much to her as to himself, Yoongi eagerly responded, pherhaps too eagerly, hoping to fall back on their already established pattern. However, this kiss was different.

Saein gave him no ground to stand firm on, no disillusions of chastity or timidity. Her tongue had a will and a purpose, and Yoongi could do nothing but submit to the venereal greed of it. Faster than he'd care to admit, he grew properly inebriated on her aphrodisia, gripping her hips to pull her closer.

But Saein had not given up.

The moment she felt him lose himself in her, melting in her embrace and the familiar territories she had gifted him, the divine aphrodite brought their dance to an halt, foregead to forehead, towering slightly over him on that couch.

Both her hands cupped gently his face. She forced his stormed skies eyes to come meet hers and found a hazed starlight night in his semi-closed pupils instead, disarmed by the abandonment, the tenderness, the mere adoration he had forgotten to hide away. Her own gaze melted in his.

He wasn't hers, she wasn't his. Lovers with spikes on their walls and armors twirled in thorns. But, in this compressed eternity, they belonged to each other.

Against her every intentions, as their breath were one, Saein leaned in, pulled by some invisible thread, and sealed them in that hymn.

Her lips lingered on his, clinging to the last remnants of heaven yet scared to fall into its depths. She playfully grazed his nose with hers and held his chin up. The Slayer commanded his attention. Her thumb came to replace the ghost of her kiss. With it, she drew the rim of his lips with the care of a sculptor carving Galatea. His mouth watered with bewilderment. Content with his response, her digit pulled on his bottom lip, just enough to dare him to pull away. He didn't.

She pressed her thumb beyond the breach of his pearly teeth and let it be coated with his saliva. To have her finger playing with his tongue, so vulnerable in between his canines that he could snap it off her anytime but there was no illusion on who got who in their jaws.

She removed her thumb, mimicking another kiss with it before leaning back. Without breaking eye contact - the thought didn't even cross the Fox's pretty head, completely transfixed on the frolic confidence oozing from her every pore- she brought her forefinger into her own mouth, licking on it in a evocative movement. Then added another, and another. Up and down.

Her knee, between his legs, slid further in.

Shiii-

The Fox's mind turned blank.   

He should have easily guessed what her next step would be but the remnants of her show and the way she took back hold of his mouth without a moment's respite. Without more ceremony, her prepared fingers sunk back down and slipped under the trousers and underwear she had opened up in advance.

His heated limb welcomed her with a shiver and the proof it had been bracing itself for her, glazed in its own moist, moving with a will despite being still half-trapped in the constraint of the clothes.

The sudden wave of pleasure, relief, and exhilaration collided in a muffled mumble that came damn near to preemptivaly giving her what she had yearned for. By the way her smile grew against his mouth, she knew it.

Keep it together, Min Yoongi. 

Under her wandering hands, it didn't take long until she felt his frame tensing to the extreme. Everywhere. Especially where it interested her.

Reaching under the tee-shirt hiding all of her divine curves, his hands gripped to the hollow of her rear. Meanwhile, hers were gliding over what they had, by all means, forged and that she finally freed in the open air, feeling it expand.

The motion of her kiss matched with the rhytmic movement she applied on his spear and gonads. It seemed that, impervious to the silent battle he was waging with himself, his anatomy had no such concerns and had taken the initiative in a demonstrative and virile manner. She worked in a lascious manoeuvre to her own glee, and his.  

Already, however, her fingers did not feel enough. Her kiss was becoming sloppy as her attention were siphoned elsewhere. Feeling the smooth growth throwbing against her agile caress was not enough. She wanted to see it. To feel it. Differently, fully.

With one last smooch, she let go, fell down to her knees and started her descent to the desired spot. It was a mess. She had a mess of him. And it was glorious. Leaking, everywhere, ruining his pants, pink and wide, carved beautifully in purple veins and ornated below with heavy jewels.

How could her fingers ever hoped to take care of all of this alone?

If the Slayer wasn't such an experimented girl, she might have had felt bashful about how wet her mouth got just looking at this. It didn't escape her, nonetheless, how the appendage had grown even harder at the mere fact she was looking at it.

When her gaze rose to Yoongi's face, it was nowhere to be found, hidden away behind his forearm.

She kissed it, at first, right on the tip. To taste it. The sweet saltiness. It shivered, and what sounded like a rumble fell in her ears. Thankfully for him, she had grown out of her own patience, or she might have been tempted to tease some more of where that came from.

Her fingers laced around the base for stability and her mouth, after drooling on it, for show more than efficiancy considering he had taken care of all lubricity needs himself, tackled the lovely task with great, great skill, it must be said. Her deep chocolate locks were flowing up and down across her mischievous head as her nimble little hands busied themselves and her lips redoubled the ardor her fingers had shown.

It is out of a misguided and prideful desire not to crack too soon, and maybe a fear to admit defeat that the Fox was trying his darnest to hold back the sounds of rapture that were rushing in, begging to be released, and instead let a flow of curses escape under his breath. His attempt at hiding the effect she had couldn't dissolve the unreasonable craving taking control of his panting body. On the contrary, every attention on her part heightened his debauchery.

He felt her wet rim slid to the most sensitive places, in a perfect pace, and another expletive escaped from his tongue.

How the fuck did he end up here? What the fuck happened?

He felt the grip of her hands, the watery warmth of her swallowing him whole as he threw his head back in abandon. Everything was spinning around him all at once. The ceiling was barely in focus anymore. There was his own pleasure boiling up, of course, but there were hers as well that was not dying down, as he had expected it would in the task, but on the contrary bloomed further more, deversing and mixing up with his, blurring the lines. The Fox had to shut his eyes close.

She felt his muscles jolting under her touch. His sighs gave cadence to her movements. His body was the perfect indicator of the impact of her caresses on his manhood, guiding her, teaching her unknowingly his weaknesses.

Saein could hardly be more pleased with herself. If only her pretty face was not so busy, she would have the biggest grin on it. The doll was so delighted, she had lost sight of her original claim, while he was still so focused on it, losing his mind to not concede - a moan.

The intermittent breathing of his torso formed waves above her. She could hear him struggle and grasp at straws to contain himself as she continued to take hold of his intimacy. She had him squirming and driven crazy. She had already won.

At least, she thought it was enough, until it came.

He was close, too close. She could feel it by the way his muscles were twitching, his breathing accelerating. Another attention of hers, the slip of her tongue on a sensitive part longer than the other and it came, what she had been waiting for, no, craving for: a moan.

Yoongi froze, biting his lip to pretend it wasn't his. But there was no denying it.

A lustful moan. His moan, let out against his will, closer to a growl but indistinguishably the melody of a moan nonetheless. In it, she heard the frustration of his loss and yet, equally, the pure relief that comes with the releashment of control and self-restraint.

Now, she remembered all too clearly why she even wanted it in the first place, and couldn't believe she thought anything less would be enough. A thousand pins and needles ran along her spine. Her demands were originally only a matter of balancing out their power dynamic, she would have never guessed that the sound itself would send her reeling.  

As of now, she knew she would only need one or two back and forths to get him to his paroxysm, one he would have reached a thousand times already if he hadn't been holding himself back. Oh, she wanted to get him there so badly, before as revenge, now as reward.

She wanted to hear those moans rain in her ears. But before she could enact it, she felt two large hands grab her shoulders, shift her weight backward and pin her down on the carpet.

Yoongi towered over her, panting. Both his claws planted on the ground on each side of her head. His eyes were more predatory than human - lit with a crazed, contagious blue flame.

"You first," he groaned.

Covering her slender body, he plunged his head into her warm skin. With a few deft movements, he stripped off her of that damn T-shirt, strewing her chest with tormented kisses. It was truly, truly hard to be mad at this betrayer.

His rough palms molded her thighs, hips and ass again, as his jaws nestled in the hollow of her neck, only to trail down to her bosom, swallowing her curves in every way he could with the encouraging whine of the beneficiary.

His thirst had no end, and she was, oh, so delicious. He met the quiver under his roving hands when they grabed the panties and pulled it off with such a rush it made the delicacy he had shown in the bathroom seem like another reality.

Unwillingly mirroring his partner in sin, the Fox's thoughts were clouded by a singular need. After one last good-bye kiss on her nip, his lips traced a thousand stars on his way to the hollows of her already wet legs.

Without giving her time to protest, which didn't even graze her mind, he had his head between her thighs, and his mouth on a quest through the mythical fountain.

Saein, unlike him, made no effort to hold back any moan. Swimming in her sea, the demon was applying its art, covering with attention its sweet pearl and sending her to a place she had been reaching for a long time now.

All of her attempts of control were squashed, and all she could do was gather all her figments of focus to not come in the next second, and damn the volume she was showing instead. Nonetheless, she would not last long under the furrows of his goddamn - jesus, what the-, talented asshole - tongue against her.

Her thighs were resting on his shoulders as he applied himself with devorous passion. While his fingers reached for her nip, unable to forsake it, he sucked more of her honey in, exploring what trick made her tick, and finding many, many treasures.

Her hips arched in a convulsive movement, ravaged by a frenzy fire. Too fast, too much.

After everything, she didn't know if she could ride another after this. And Saein refused to end it this way. The moment she felt herself reach too high of a high, and felt him notice it and start driving her there, she swiftly escaped. The Slayer kicked him off and backed away.  

He looked at her in disbelief, as if she had taken away his food from him. Truth was, she kind of had. The Gumiho wiped the glistening on his chin and mouth off with a smirk.

"Who's afraid of losing control now?"

"Oh, shut up."

She had no time to argue with him.

To Yoongi's surprise, she climbed over him, making him stumble back on his butt, only managing to not be completely flatted down on the rug by stopping himself with his elbows.

The assignment became clear the moment she straddled his mostly naked body. With her palm on his chest, she pushed him back on the floor, forcing him to lie down. Saein barely gave him time to react than she angled her pelvis into his hard-on, one hand on his hipbone for balance.

They exchanged one meaningfull look before Saein impaled herself on him with a lustful swear.

His considerable width deliciously furrowed in her sensitive furnace, throwbing against her twitching walls, filling her up inches after inches until it could no more. Her eyes rolled all the way back when he reached that floor. His jaw snapped back.

For once, they were both in complete agreement of never admitting how they felt in this very moment. More intimate than ever, and yet refusing to even glance in the face of the other by fear of what they might find.

She started moving.

With an acute care now that she had fully grasped what she was working with, relaxing and merging into it, trying not to get overboard and melting into how he pressed against all the right spots already, spots that had been already teased beyond reason.

Maybe doing this minutes after grazing the orgasm was a mistake.

When she drew back, only to move back in, deeper, Yoongi let out a gasp that he stifled by biting his lip.

She felt too damn good. As if she was molded for him. Squishing his tender self to its paramount with no care in the world for how she was edging him to his end.

 It's a mess. In his chest. Between his thighs. In his head. An unstable assemblage of 'I want more' and 'get the fuck over yourself, Min Yoongi'.  And those ecstatic sighs she was letting out. And so was he.

He who thought he'd eat, is devoured.

All egos had melted away in the blazing of their desire that only rose, and rose, and rose. His hands gripped her waist. With a low moan, he accompanied her languorous movements, as her face contorted. As he lifted his pelvis and filled her up with a quick and strong thrust, as deep as she could take him, he watched her whimper under it with delight.

The last remnants of his decline slowly cracked as he let himself be swept away. She pressed, back and forth, taking her revenge. The only reason they both didn't immediately came was this competition on who would first.

Taking advantage of a second of weakness on her part, Yoongi reversed their positions and flipped her over on the rug. One hand planted on the floor by her head, he accelerating his desperate, raging thrusts. The longer he went on, the less suave he became. More aggressive. Relentless. On the next thrust, he leaned over her, swaying her finely crafted figure back, and kissed her in what ended in a bite.

It only took his teeth grapping over her bottom lip to let it all go in a tidal wave. The culmination of all her overheating senses curled her toes and sent her all the way to the seventh heaven. The sounds of pleasure pressed through her throat faster and faster. A litany of 'fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,' escaped her as the dam she had been holding with all her strenght breached and crumbled her every defense.  

Above her, he was gripping his knuckles white on the low table as her pleasure morphed into blue energy, as if it was electricity, suddenly flew through his skin like a thunderbolt, knocking the air out of him. What she felt, he felt. With the acculmination of his own desire, there was no hope resisting anymore. All the ebullition that had built in him bursted into her welcoming heat. Yoongi poured himself with abandonment, ferosity and solace with only enough common sense not to crash down on her frame.

He collapsed at her side. His locks stuck on his sweaty forehead, his pants still around one ankle, and incredibly, extraordinarily full.

Her strength left her the moment the orgasm calmed down in what she could only describe as serenity. Her mind was free - no monsters, no end-of-the-world - nothing concerned her but the ecstasy over her sweaty body.

She could get used to this. 

For a while, they just stood there, on the soiled carpet, staring at the ceiling, while their breathing steadying themselves.

"So..., her voice brought him back, did it work?"

"Hmm?"

The Slayer turned her glowing face to him. He found the detail of the carpentry fascinating.

"Did you feed?"

 "Hm, hm," he confirmed. Oh, did he feed.

"Really? I didn't feel anything," she sounded disappointed. Saein perked up on a elbow to see him better. The Fox looked drained, delighted, although a little abashed, and still staring straight ahead of him. Flushed and human, but she wouldn't dare say that.

"Does it mean you're full?"

"I am," He smacked his lips with his tongue before slowly grinning.

"For now."

[6feathered6siren6]

Spiderverse KC! Dabbles and HCs

Authors note: This is mostly dabbles and random things I thought of while in my spiderverse hyperfixation(again), I've been also somewhat sketching on what they would look like. On request of my friend after fighting for a few hours(and to make sure she doesn't hate bomb), these do not follow spiderman canon stories or events, just some fun of if the Killer chat! Love interest was in the spiderverse. I might come back to this idea on a future thing. Btw, you can view these romantic or platonic, up to you!^^

Trigger warnings

Killings/deaths

Injuries

ooc?

Cringe(But i'm free)

You were shoved into one of the interdimensional portals, meeting back into the spiderman headquarters. Shoving your mask up as you walked around, grabbing a coffee from another spiderman who was a barista. Waving to a few acquaintances until you found an open window. Sliding out to the breezy wind and cool air, walking up the building. Humming softly until you get onto the roof. Sitting on the edge of it. Taking a swing of your coffee as you look out to the futuristic universe. This is worth it in your opinion. Worth fighting and getting back up. 

“READER!” Recognizing that voice, it was Misaki. Looking at them swinging up with the webs to almost tripping, or in their words, ‘landing gracefully.’ They plopped down next to you, looking into the scenery as well. She playfully punches your shoulder with a gleaming smile.

“Hey, Misaki.” You spoke as you smiled back. 

“So everyone is going to be late, something about having to help V with some crook. And left me out of it, can you believe it?” They spit raspberries as they looked grumpy for a moment until laying their head on your shoulder. Looking back to their playful self. “Well, they are missing out on ‘you’ time. I get you to myself!” 

You felt yourself chuckle. “I guess so. So how’s your universe?”

“Same old, same old. You already know all that boring stuff.” 

It felt such a small amount of time pass, but it was a few hours until the missing members came alone. 

“There’s the losers,” Misaki yelled out as they saw them swinging and landing onto the roof. “Can’t believe you left me out in a fight, I would love to punch a guy or two in the face.”

Angel sat next to you while V sat next to Misaki. You turned your body to face Ronin as he stood. “Yeah, yeah. Blame Mr. Serious over there.” He points to V as V glares at him.

“You were the one who lost track of him. I told you to watch him while Me and Angel chase the main perpetrator.” V didn’t look pleased, like one more thing will make him gut the devil looking spiderman. 

“Yeah, and whose fault is that?” Ronin leans down to V, a smirk that scream fuck-all. 

“Enough you two, we are here for a good time, not to fight. Wait until we spar, then you can throw hands at each other.” Angel spoke, the two listened, and Ronin sat next to Angel, wrapping his arm around her.

“That’s boring, we can always spill blood anytime and all the time.” Angel's response to Ronin was rolling her eyes. 

Sitting there, sure, they’re bickering, but felt like a place you belong. A place you can always go back to. A place like home. 

⛧⛥⛧

Ronin(SpiderDevil)

Ronin has invited you to stay at his timeline for a bit. It was different from the time you're from, but you didn’t care. The anti-hero before you was dragging you through his city, swing after swing. Until he got to a high building, catching you when you fumbled the landing. 

“Do not tell Misaki, I will never hear the end of this if they know.” You groaned. 

“Don’t worry, Darlin’. I won’t spill your secrets.” His chuckle sent shivers down your back, but you ignored them. His grin might be sadistic but he was true to his word, he won’t tell them. At least, you hoped. 

Looking into his world, it was chaotic like him but a sense of calm. He was looking down, scoping for something, a bad guy? Someone to kill? You never know with him. 

Staring at his costume, his superhero persona looks, he mentioned that he made it himself, calling himself the devil. Having the world also call him the devil. 

“Staring too long will make me wonder if you have fallen for me, Darlin’.” He turns his head, smirking almost gleefully. “Shoving your aorta to the devil is something you can’t turn back on.” 

You rolled your eyes as you shoved your mask up, and smiled back at him. “Maybe I do, shoving my heart into your hands.” 

He whistles, before even making a comment back, a scream comes from nearby. He turned to the direction of the yelling, then back to you. Smirking sinfully, giving a two finger salute, putting his mask on as he falls off the building, using his webs to go see what it is. Most likely killing the person that causes a panic in the calm city.  

You swear he’s so fucking dumb, but it does make you feel something, you sigh as you shoved your mask on, and following him. 

—

Somehow, he got you bloody, your hero costume was stained red, a dark, dark red, and it wasn’t even yours. After getting blood out of it last time, which took you HOURS to do, you just decided to make another suit. One that would be so much easier to clean. 

His arm wraps around your shoulder. “Come’n darlin’, I didn’t mean to.” 

“Sorry doesn’t mean this suit would be clean in an instant.” You growled softly. After all that work, the hours to make it clean. Just to give up, the material is supposed to be hand cleaned.

“But I like this one now, screams of the damned, losing their life to me and you. That not all heroes are rainbows and sunshine.” 

You dropped your suit onto his couch, sighing. You need to get back to your universe, you have something to get done. You were still mad about the suit, but there was nothing to do. 

Ronin gives another apology before you dashed off, grumpy and wanting to strangle something for the hours you were going to have to put in later.

–

On your bed, there was a red box with a ribbon tied around it. Your room was locked, so there was no way anyone was able to put it there. Slowly, getting over there and pulling the ribbon, what laid inside was your suit. Clean and stitched up. Like the blood was never there, nor the holes. You knew who did this, you left it at his place. The devil does have a bleeding heart.

You hold the suit close, switching into the suit almost immediately and jumping out your window to do your routine patrol. The smile on your face was big enough that it just hurts to hold it for long, but it was so worth it.

— 

You didn’t expect your enemy to just shove some random injection into themselves, making them stronger. You can’t even get a punch in, the enemy was getting faster and faster with his hits. Dodging is all you can do, just trying to make sure you can survive another day. You heard in the distance a familiar sound, but you have to keep focus on the battle, the enemy. Well, until you see that same enemy being flinged into the wall beside you. 

“Heard you need saving, didn’t think the devil had to be the saving grace today.”  

You didn’t even have to guess who it was, you looked over to see Ronin, looking so smugged to save you. He walks to you, shoving his hand out for you to grab and pulls you up. He chuckles as he looks back at the enemy, see him get up. Cracking his knuckles, ready to finish the fight you were just in. 

-

Canon events are in every Spiderman's story, and losing that someone that was close to you… was heartbreak to say the least. You still find their death haunting your dreams, especially around their death anniversary. You couldn’t stand staying in your universe, the photos on your walls stare you down, it felt suffocating. 

Opening that watch, not even seeing where the other side goes, you need somewhere that doesn’t feel like your skin is crawling. Tripping onto something and landing onto something leathery. Taking a moment and looking at what you fell on, it was a couch, a very familiar couch. One that you feel asleep at before. 

You hear a snicker, and lifting your head you see Ronin, dressed in red and black pajamas. “Almost made me have a heart attack Darlin’. Didn’t know you wanted to take out the sinner earlier than his due date.” 

You stared at him, you didn’t think you would go to his universe, nor on his couch. His facial reaction shifted a bit, a smug bastard to something that hid his concern. 

“Move over, hero.” He started shooing at you, making you sit up on his couch. He grabs the remote and turns the tv in his living room on. “Wanna watch some shitty murder movies? Misaki left one of the movies from their time here. I thought it was shit and not enough gore. But she liked it.” 

You nod as you pull your knees to your chest. Taking your response, he puts it on, and the movie, in your opinion, was okayish. Ronin looked half bored throughout the movie, making comments about the killer. “That's way too much blood for that wound.”, “Guts don’t jump out like that.”, even judging how the movie murder was using a weapon wrong. Each comment from him, like he was teaching you about killing, was funny in your opinion. The way he was so judgemental for this murder that did their kills. 

You couldn’t help but snicker at this before laughing. He looked at you like you were the insane one in the room, but you did catch a pleased smile from him. One that was glad your mood had changed, he knew you were always down around this time. 

And if you wake up with a blanket on you, it was the spiderman that belonged into this universe, being ‘a saving grace’ to you.

       𓂋 

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Angel(Spidergirl)(Spidersaint)(Pinkwidow)

You were at her place as she was changing the design of her suit again. She has to keep up with the fashion world, even as Spidergirl, she has to look her best. You were helping her sketch her newest design. With winter coming, she wants to be able to put a nice coat along with her suit, but also a new skirt design along with it. 

“How about a fluffy coat? One with the spider design with it.” You recommend, flipping your phone to show the coat idea.

She lifted her head and shook it. “That was last season, I can’t look cheezy either.” 

You hummed softly as you looked back into your phone. “What about a jacket, put a wings design on it?” 

“I had one when I was dating Ronin, we were matching. I rather not dig up that old thing.” She crumbled up a sketch and put it next to her. “Plus bring it back won’t be a good look for the fashionable spidergirl.” 

You were now thinking about what was in your closet, an idea popping in your head. “I might have an idea for ya.” 

In about a week, you need a magazine of Angel’s new suit. It had a skirt with a very familiar, matching jacket, with accents that glowed a soft pink that matched her suit. She adored it, along with her fans. Your magazine was autographed with a very personalized message. 

–

“Rest, Angel.” You blocked her window. She had been overworking herself, and easily you can see how tired she was. 

“I can go on patrol, Reader.” She took a side step and you followed her, blocking her path once more. 

“You look like one step away from passing out. And I rather not hear from the news here that, ‘Spidergirl launched into building unconscious.’” You kept your arms crossed, watching her.

“Let me take over your patrol for the night and you can rest. I’ll even pick up our food after I’m done.” 

The both of you were having a stare off, it felt like hours until she sighed. “Fine. You win. I’ll take a rest.”

You sigh in relief as you pull down your mask. “I’ll be back with your favorite comfort meal, then we can do whatever you want.” 

Just about 2 hours later, you arrived back from Angel’s patrol. There was only petty crime, so nothing too much to really worry her back. She was on her couch, doing her skin care routine. 

She lightly chuckles as you put the take out food onto the coffee table, “Go change, then I’ll torture you.” She lifts the face mask package, with the most innocent, sweet smile, but you can tell there was darker intentions with that. But to get her to rest, you'll take the beauty pain. 

–

It was a relaxing day, there wasn’t even any petty crime during this patrol. You were keeping up with Angel, even playing games through this, just keep the patrol entertaining. Landing onto the sidewalk of a barely busy street, you cheer as you win the race. Angel chuckles as she watches you cheer, she is in the new suit that you and her design. Everyone in her universe loved the new suit and decided to make merch of it. Heck, she had to model in clothes dedicated to her suit design. When she told you about the photoshoot, she couldn’t handle her joy from it. 

As you calmed down from your celebration, neither one of you could see the paparazzi coming until it was too late. Each one was asking Angel about her suit and how she came up with the idea. Then asking more personal ones, and somehow, she took each question like a champ. 

“When will you reveal who you are?” One asked, pushing the recorder closer to her masked face. 

“I can’t spill all my secrets, if I do, I won’t keep all my fans' eyes on me.” Her softer voice enchanted with each reporter, making them want to get closer to her, to know more. “I want each one to keep guessing who I am, you’ll never know if I’m your neighbor or your friend, keep guessing my friends.”

She lightly taps your shoulder before webbing up onto a building getting away from the paparazzi, you followed her up, landing next to her as she walked away from the edge of the roof. Away from the cameras and eyes. 

“Didn’t think they would show up, nor ask.. Questions about your life.” You said looking at the direction of the reporters, walking towards her.

“It’s normal, they have been more… extra lately though, the news wants more Spidergirl.” She shrugs, “Though they have been getting into danger just to learn a little bit about me. Last week, I had to drag one out from a battle, they are getting more bold.” She shook her head, sighing as she recalled it.

“Yikes,” You cringed as you also remembered some of your world’s press. But it sounds like Angel got it worse than you.

She sighs again, “I’ll just figure it out, like always.” 

“Well, you got me to help,” You nudged her side with your elbow. “And Ronin, V, and Misaki. We are here to help. You don’t have to be alone for this. We can plan a fake face reveal, pretend it’s some random person. Maybe if we can convince Ronin to do it.” 

She snickers before laughing, you can probably see the image goes through her mind, seeing Ronin taking off her mask to see his face instead of hers. “That would be a sight.”

⚕

V(Spiderman)(Short and simple but also called spiderdog by Ronin)

It was break time for you, no fighting, no work, no nothing. It was a time to rest, and to rest V invited you to hang in his universe. Which you accepted, you wanted to see all those animals he had. Plus it’s been a while since you held Cocoa, his rescue bunny. 

Going through the portal to his bunker, it was dark, so he must still be out. Turning on the lights, and laying on his couch as you wait upon him. Pulling out your phone as you wait for him, shifting through the latest news from your universe. “Spiderman saves children from kidnapping” and “Cops are still trying to arrest Spiderman, but horrible failing at their jobs to protect us.” 

You shook your head as V finally walked in, taking off his mask as he used his other hand to cover his side. You dropped your phone, rushing over to him. “Shit, V!” You gently push his hand to assess the wound. “Go sit, your first aid is the bathroom, right?”

He was shocked at first, seeing you there. “It is.” 

You went to get his first aid, and came out to see him sitting at one of his dining chairs. Grabbing another chair and peeling his hand away from his wound, seeing the damage. “It doesn’t seem too bad, what happened?” 

“One of them had a gun, I didn’t see it in time.” He tries to stay still for you to help patch him up. 

“Ouch, know how that feels.” It was a quick fix, and you put the first aid on the table after patching him up. “Do you feel better now?” 

He grabs the painkillers from his first aid kit as he nods. “I should be fine, we do regenerate faster, so this should heal in a couple days.” 

You let go of a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding. “Alright then.” You got up from your seat, smiling pridefully. “I’ll make us food then, how do you feel about–”

“No.” V interrupted you. “Last time you made food, you and Misaki burnt the cheap instant noodles from that gas station. By forgetting the one thing you need for it. Water.” 

“But-”

“Reader. No. I’ll order take out.” He sighs as he gets up and heads to his bathroom, getting out of his suit.

Well, can’t fight with some free, easy food.

–

It’s the day, the once a month event that you and the other 4 get together. The day you can beat each other up(with some rules because of certain people). Today, it’s you vs V. Angel, Ronin, and Misaki were watching the fight go down. Misaki was loud, cheering you and V on. No one here is in their persona suits, just lose easy fighting clothes. 

He threw the first punch, a swift crouching and aiming for his legs. He took a small jump back. You lift your arms up, ready to either punch or block, instead throwing a kick close to his head. 

It was his turn to crouch. Finally, one of you made contact and it was him, punching you in the stomach, making all the air in your lungs escape you instantly. Your eyes felt like they were watering, blurring your sights for a moment. 

Taking a step back, you took a deep breath in, steeling your body. You kept your eyes on him, watching his movement, taking a big step forward, punching. You throw your fist, blocking it, then using your other fist to make contact on his cheek. You hear him grunt slightly in pain.

The viewers were watching the fight, Misaki was screaming out advice that wasn’t heard by the two fighters. Ronin was enjoying the fight, making comments to Angel. 

Finally, Angel’s alarm hits, soft lyrics blast into the air. Making you and V stop. It’s been five minutes. You were trying to catch your breath, same as V. 

“Good match, you seem to be getting better.” He said, standing straight, lifting his hand out to you to shake. 

You take it and smile. “Thanks, and that was a good match.” 

“Come on, Ronin! Our turn to fight!” Misaki cheered out. Running onto the matted area. 

—

You were staring at your computer, stressed out by some work you were assigned. You let your head hit your desk as you groaned. You swear you feel your brain cells leave you. Lifting your head to look at the ceiling when you heard a knock on your window, looking over to see V in his spiderman suit. 

You felt your lips pull upwards, walking over, and opening the window. You chuckle, “V?”

“Hello, reader. I hope you don’t me dropping by.” You backed up to let the man in. 

“Nah, I needed an excuse to get away from my work. What’s up?” 

He lifted a bag. “You weren’t able to join us for lunch, so I decided to bring you something. This is what you ordered last time.” 

You gently took the bag and opened it. You felt your mouth water from the smell of the food. It was when your stomach growled when you realized you didn’t grab something to eat since you started your work. You looked up at him, feeling the texture of the bag, “Thank you, V.”

“It was no problem to get you this. Eat while it’s hot.” You nod, as you sit back down into your chair, V walks up behind you, seeing what you’re working on. While you were eating, he started helping as much as he could. 

It was a surprise visit, but a very welcomed one.

⋆˚࿔

Misaki(Spiderpop)(Spiderchoas)

“Shit, shit, shit! Reader!” Misaki slides down from the ruble, jumping down where you lay. You felt your body burning, and your back felt like it was being soaked. You couldn’t remember what happened, but you felt like you were run over by a truck, then a train, and they both backed up and crushed you again. 

You groan as you tilt your head to Misaki as they take off their mask. They seemed so scared, but like they were reliving something… but what? 

“You’re gonna be okay, like I’ll call for help. Shit, don’t move. Please, please pick up my fucking call!” You slowly grabbed their shaking hand, your mask was still on, unable to show your emotions, but you still tried and offered comfort. You hear her shiving breath, it shook so bad that it scared you. “Please stay awake, help is going to be here. I promise, I promise on my gear, my suit, hell, everything I own. Just stay awake.”

But everything turned blurry, and you could hear a heartbeat monitor next to you. Turning your head away, you could see Misaki there. She was typing away on their phone, it could be the slaughterhouse group chat. 

“Hey…” It felt like your throat was scratching sandpaper when you spoke. 

Misaki looked at you, and you could see how terrible she looked. Her eyes were red and there were dry tear tracks. “H- holy shit! You’re awake!” They ran to your side, and when you tried to sit up, they assisted. “Thank the gods you are okay, sheesh, like you are okay and awake, and the doctor said you were going to be fine. Like sure, you lost a lot of blood, and they had to do a blood transfusion, but…” 

They paused and their features softened, “You’re okay.”

You held their hand as they rambled, and nodded. “I’m okay.” 

“Good. Now, you are never ever, ever, ever doing that again! I was so scared, hell even Ronin was scared for a moment. Don’t do that to us, we are a squad, we have to stick together, and none of this self sacrificing bullshit you pulled. You do this speech to make sure none of us do that, but you pull it, it’s unfair.” 

“Sorry..” You felt guilty, now you remember why you fell, and how you were injured. Angel was about to get attacked but you pushed her out of the way and took the blow instead. Making you go through buildings, and nearly one collapses on you. If it wasn’t for the spider mutation, you might have died.

“Do you know how scary it was to see you just thrown into buildings? V said if you were a few inches to the side, you might have gotten a pipe in your stomach.”

You rub your thumb on her hand, hearing that, that you scared all four of them, made you feel so guilty for it. But you did save Angel from getting this badly hurt. “I’ll try not to do this again, but no promises. If I can save someone I will take it, Misaki.” 

“But it’s still unfair, also take care of yourself, you need to stay alive, or who else will be my chaos buddy, I need you to help me to annoy everyone.” Their hand shook in yours, the air felt heavy and suffocating. The guilt felt heavy, if this is Misaki's ‘don’t be selfless’ speech, you don’t want to know the others. You think it’ll be too much. 

-

You and Misaki took off your spiderman suits, dressed in casual clothing, walking around in the dimension. Finished up with a mission and both of you had some down time before having to go back to HQ. 

Misaki looked really curious, the spiderman from this world is stuck in another so helping him take down bad guys was needed, so she was wondering what this world is like. Pulling your hand along with them, pointing out options, before deciding to grab some fast food. 

Both of you were on top of a tall building, looking into the blue scenery. “Do you think we can convince V to decorate his suit? Like I like it, but it looks so boring.” 

You snicker as you ate a fry, “You already tried to alter his suit, he was a disco ball for a week. He, literally, was shedding glitter.”

“Hey! Hey! That was just a failed attempt of my glitter fabric, just watch, I’ll put something snake related for him. Him and his love for symbolism.” They yelled at you before taking a bite of her burger. “But he won’t let me within a mile radius of his suit, soooo…” She leans their head on your shoulder.

You luckily groan, “Fii-ine. I’ll help.”

“Knew I could count on my chaos buddy.” Lifting her head to drink her soda. 

“You’re just lucky that you got pretty privilege.” You remarked, as you slightly nudged their shoulder with your fist.

“Damn right!” They yelled out, almost throwing her burger out of their hand. 

–

Misaki took your hand, dragging you through HQ. She was giggling as they did. To keep everyone senses up, V sparked up an idea of hide and seek. Which V wanted to cheer Misaki up, so asked about this game to you so see if it will help them. And from what you can tell with her laughter, they were. 

“Com’n, I got this perfect spot! Ronin won’t find us!” Ronin was seeker this round, and you can expect him to dramatize it. Which, can you expect of him any less? Misaki seemed to be in a higher mood now. 

Finally, they pulled you into her spot, a room that no one remembers, at least you can tell with all the dust in the room. You can hear the soft buzz of her mechanical legs, lifting their body up. “Now we can’t be found.” 

Their smile was infectious, making you smile as well. You were glad that V's plan worked. Misaki webbed your chest, making you almost yelp when they pulled you up with them. Now hiding with the open rafters. 

Misaki was kicking her legs as they watched the door. “I didn’t expect this to be so fun.” You felt your head nod in agreement. “And I didn’t think V and Ronin would try and find each other first. Poor Angel is gonna have to deal with them, because there is no way they will find us here.”

You laugh as you think of them bickering. “We can apologize to Angel once we get found, the poor girl is going to have a headache dealing with them.” 

“Angel our beloved, so sorry for making you deal with this.” They said, as they put their hands together, like they were praying. 

You rolled your eyes as you looked at the door, and no signs of them. Misaki seemed to be back to herself again, glad, that V had a great plan to help them.

It was about 30 minutes until V found the both of you, which he was very lucky to see in the room and look up. Seeing both of your shit-eating, win smiles. And if Misaki ran ahead, to see a glimpse of V’s smile, one to see he was happy to see his friend was back to themselves, it was your secret. 

–

Together(somewhat) Headcanons

Misaki has mechanical parts in her suit, shaped like spider legs. A part they like doing is using them to get taller than the others and T pose, showing off dominance towards the others.

Surprised hangouts and sleepovers are usual, so just jumping into another's dimension to see the others is practical. 

Each one has a nickname/code names because calling out spiderman won’t be confusing, though V just sticks to being called spiderman.(Each nickname/code name is next to their name)

Games and sparing always happens in Spiderman HQ, and anything with fighting will always be settled on the mats

Because Misaki glitterify his suit once, V has started keeping it close to him or locking it up and hiding it. 

-

Can’t think of other hcs at the moment and I'm going to bed, hope you enjoyed it! And sorry if some parts seem less motivational, I want to get birthday content for myself done.

[christelightlavo]

How I understand characters. A guide.

Dislike : Characters I hate due to their fans ignoring their actions and not necessarily due to their actions. It's because of what they represent.

Hate : Characters I hate due to their actions and what they are as a person.

Hate/love : Characters whose actions are shit and some of their fans are too but I understand on a level. They are immature and I can imagine them being not.

Like : Characters that I like because of the fandom, their aesthetics and general personality. EVERYONE LOVES THEM IN THE FANDOM.

Love : Characters who I love because of who they are despite the fandom, their environment and circumstances.

Examples,

1) Dislike :

Dazai Osamu from Bsd (I like that he is morally grey, I just hate the whole sad boy gimmick you guys use to erase over his mistakes)

Claude De Alger Obelia from wmmap. (But-but Dark magic! He was sad because Diana died- shut up. My father went through WORSE and he loves me alot. Claude also killed innocent concubines the day athy was born)

Marinette Dupain-Cheng from Miraculous ladybug. (Thomas's imaginary daughter with his Ex. Do I need to say more? It's not the fandom, its the goddamned creator. Even if she evolves as a character, I will never like her because she is his imaginary daughter)

Kosier / kosher Trovi from Remarried Empress. (He is everything I hate about manhwa brother troupe. I can write a whole book about how shitty and moron he was. An idiot truly)

2) Hate :

Shovieshit from Remarried empress. (Do I really really need to explain?)

Derrick from Death is the only ending for a villainess. (Again, do I need to explain?)

The Joker (some of you guys have issues).

Endeavor from My hero academia (I am alright with his redemption but I refuse to forgive him about it. It's years of abuse guys, it's something that we have seen the damages of.)

Hawkmoth from Miraculous. (BECAUSE FUCK HIM)

3) Hate/love :

Mabel Pines from Gravity Falls (she was a young girl. The apocalypse was everyones fault! she is a bit whinny then again she's a child, who will obviously will take time understand to sacrifice, to understand the situation etc.. Also she had the worse day™ so her thinking of losing dipper must have hit hard)

Severus Snape from Harry Potter (Fuck him for all the bullying, I personally love fanfics in which he is tormented by the students back. He grew into something he was subjected too and that's sad thus I like his character. He has layers)

Draco Malfoy from Harry Potter (See my mabel paragraph and mix it with Snape's paragraph)

Aqua from Oshi no ko (you sir are a dramatic bitch)

4) like :

Dick Grayson from DC Comics (the eldest daughter complex mixes right with teen angst against your father figure. It hits just right. Very uncomfortable with the Ass thing though)

Edith from I thought it was a common possession (THIS GIRL HAS MY HEART, MY TEN DOLLARS IN MY BACK POCKET AND 50% OF MY DIGNITY)

Pereshati from my in-laws are obsessed with me (ABOVE STATEMENT BUT ADD MY LUST)

Anya Forger from Spy x Family (Do I need to explain?)

5) Love :

Boruto Uzumaki from Boruto (jeez who could have guessed?)

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke from Bsd (jeez who could have guessed #2?)

Kana Arima from oshi no ko (who could have seen this coming??? Not me-)

Jennette margarita from wmmap (what?? Oh how the turn tables!)

Rashta from remarried empress (le gasp!!)

Alright I am done. If you like any of the characters I don't. My options are mine, yours are yours. I respect you for liking those characters. But feel free to explain to me why you like them, I am always open to hearing why someone likes a character I don't like.

Or if my favorite is your disliked character. Feel free to ask me why I like them. I love fangirling.

[tavina-writes]

I saw someone say that Jiang Cheng is written like a classic Jin Yong wuxia villain, thoughts?

Hi Nonny!

I guess, if they meant that Jin Yong always writes his villains as also complex people who are gripped and shaped by their lives and the tragedies that caused them to end up more "villainous" then... that's accurate? Most of Jin Yong's villains are highly sympathetic and tragic people in their own right (most, not all, given that the other flipside of Jin Yong's villains are those who stand in a position of terrifying power and then proceed to punch down socially in brutal and horrific ways.)

Jin Yong's tragic villain characters are often defined by their relationship with the power axis in his works -- you see this especially starkly with Lin Pingzhi in Xiao Ao Jiang Hu, who through no fault of his own (though he thinks its his fault) falls from a gentry young master to someone whose family is massacred, hunted across the landscape, and then sees his parents brutally tortured and is tortured himself before realizing that the shifu who adopted him is a hypocrite who would sacrifice all his students for ultimate power and has in fact, purposefully picked up Pingzhi himself to steal a very important part of Pingzhi's inheritance. After that he goes insane! But the guy genuinely went through the world's worst trauma conga line before he decided fuck it he wants revenge.

The other side of the Jin Yong villain spectrum is a guy like Feng Tiannan from Young Flying Fox who uses his money and relative power to force a peasant woman into gutting her own five year old son in front of witnesses to prove he didn't steal and eat a goose of Feng Tiannan's because he wanted...their family's property. Which was a tiny drop in the bucket of what Feng Tiannan already owned. He just felt like it should be his so fuck it who gives a shit about five year olds! (Feng Tiannan also brutally rapes one of his servant maids and later his friend tries to sell the daughter born of that rape into sex slavery, but y'know.) Does he sound like anyone in MDZS? Jin Guangshan perhaps?

The central thesis of any Jin Yong work (and what I admire the most about his writing) is how he frames societal corruption and writes about power structures, and how concisely and brutally he outlines and defines those reasons people in power do horrific things.

As for the tragic villain situation, I mean, I guess in one of Jin Yong's worlds Jiang Cheng could be a tragic villain. So could Wei Wuxian. Or Lan Wangji. Or Jin Ling. Or Lan Sizhui. Or any of the characters. They've all experienced trauma that's shaped them, it just kind of depends on what kind of story Jin Yong wanted to be telling with that one tbh.

If we're talking about the "socially corrupt bully who punches down and ruins the lives of regular people" and the person you're quoting is using that to refer to Jiang Cheng they might just be a Jiang Cheng hater lmao.

I'd be really curious to see the original context of this claim tbh, because it strikes me as kind of... "I'll say this to cause outrage among Jiang Cheng stans and make them like Jin Yong less and not because I actually like Jin Yong books or Jiang Cheng." when it's being dropped into my inbox with zero context like this.