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sunsetsandsunshine · 10 months ago

Note

Hey!! For your next fic could you do Leo and Mikey angst

It came be 2012, MM or rise

~ 𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 ~

💙🐢🧡 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: @tmntalways 💙🐢🧡

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙷𝚒, 𝚃𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍!!! 𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚋𝚛𝚘 ☹️💔…𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚃𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 💖💕💘💞🩷!!! 𝙰𝚕𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑, 𝙸 𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚍𝚖𝚒𝚝 𝙸’𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 😅👍🏾! 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 ��𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚍— 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 🫠…˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟹,𝟸𝟾𝟾

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙻𝚎𝚘 🐢💙

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐…𝚞𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍…𝚞𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍, 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎…𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 '𝚞𝚗'. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕? 𝙷𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢…

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @shut-up-jo @someone1348 @saturnzskyzz

@savemeafruitjuice @rice-cake-teen10 @mistyandsnow

@skyloladoodles @itzsana-kiddingmenow @titters-and-tingles

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚖𝚜 𝚒𝚗 ��𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚊 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝…𝚋𝚞𝚝 *𝙰𝙷𝙴𝙼* 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚂𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜, 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝙿𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚔!!!

𝚁𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁: 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝙰𝙳𝙷𝙳 𝚊𝚗𝚍/𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌!!! 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 ☺️💞💗💓💕

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 🕺🏾✨💞🎶˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Mikey couldn’t do anything right now. Like…anything.

Well…perhaps he was being a bit too dramatic. He was breathing. And he was fidgeting with his squishy cube. So saying he wasn’t doing 'anything' wasn’t entirely true.

Right now he just…couldn’t do anything…productive.

For example, the box turtle tried making his favorite dishes and deserts! But that endeavor just ended up being a huge mess in the kitchen…and leaving the youngest turtle with a bunch of unappetizing food.

Which he fed all to Raph by the way.

Some would call that choice of action cruel but Mikey would just call it 'using his resources'.

Besides, it’s not like the eldest minded at all. He said, and I quote: 'It has a nice…crunchy feeling to it. Did you put some of Don’s inventions in this?'

Which honestly got a couple of chuckles out of the smallest turtle teen of the bunch.

Then, Mikey tried skateboarding! But for once in all his 14 years of living…it was just utterly boring.

And after all of that nonsense, Mikey then finally tried reading a comic…but he was too unfocused to even get to the second page…

But what was really new? Mikey could never focus on jackshit even if said jackshit hit him right in the shell.

His brothers and sister would always have to remind him to stay focused or 'not do this' or 'not do that'.

For example, a couple days ago Donnie had to kindly remind the box turtle (well…as kindly as Donnie could be anyway…) to brush his teeth.

To. Brush. His. Fucking. Teeth.

And honestly? Having to be reminded to do that was really embarrassing. And the orange banded teen knew his brother didn’t mean to humiliate him internally…but…yeah.

And it’s not like the softshell was wrong either! The youngest turtle just couldn’t freaking accept that he himself couldn’t do such a simple task in the morning.

But literally every task he completely fails to do is just utterly simple ones!

Like cleaning his room or not forgetting things or even keeping track of time!

…And the sad part about all of it was Mikey just honestly could not understand how his family haven’t gotten sick of his annoying tendencies…

And let’s be for real here…that was basically all of his tendencies.

The box turtle groaned loudly in his room, slamming his whole body on his bed as he screamed into his pillow.

There had to be something he could do instead of just wallowing in his own self pity…

And one of those options could not consist of bothering his family with his random bad mood. They had to put up with him 24/7…the least he could do was give them some space.

The youngest then glanced at his drawing notebook hopefully…

…One little sketch of something random wouldn’t hurt, right?

The amber eyed teen reached for his notebook, grabbing a pen from his drawer as he started to sketch his desk because why the absolute fuck not? Based on the objects he’s drawn in the past…sketching a simple desk should and will be easy, right? Right.

That was until the orange banded teen’s pencil tip broke. But it was fine! He could just re-sharpen it, right? Right.

That was until the youngest realized he had absolutely no clue where his sharpener was due to the fact his room looked like a pig stie. And there was no way he was looking for it in…that whole situation.

…The situation he created in the first place.

Michelangelo layed on his bed with his face staring at the ceiling in frustration, he ran his fingernails along his arms, not making really deep cuts with them but going deep enough for it to hurt a bit.

Like a reasonable turtle would, Mikey should probably get one of his stress toys…or better yet, another pencil!

But let’s be for real here…he’d most likely find a way to fuck that up too.

Suddenly, there was a small, quiet knock on Mikey’s door but…in all honesty? He just wanted to crawl into his shell and sob for the next hour and a half. Letting out a niiiiice and quick 'come in' would take way too much energy.

The box turtle let out a soft grunt, letting whoever was on the other side know it was a-okay to come in.

Abruptly, Leo peeked in the room, a wide smile plastered on his face as he closed the door, “Damn, Mikester…it looks like every single natural disaster went through your room…”

“I’m cleaning it.” The youngest grumbled to his brother.

“Really? You sure about that, little bro? Because if my memory serves me correct (which it in-fact does), you said that last week. And the week before that…and the week before—“

“I SAID I’M FUCKING CLEANING IT!!!” The orange banded turtle snapped, sitting up on the bed to glare at his immediate older brother before slowly realizing what he just did.

The youngest’s heart dropped as he looked away from his brother. The orange banded mutant’s eyed widened as silent and small tears ran down his face. He covered his mouth as his other hand turned to a fist, his nails unforgivingly digging into his palm.

“I-I’m sorry…I’m s-sorry…I-I’m so s-sorry…!” He started, rocking himself back and forth before stopping as he was met with a warm embrace. Leonardo hugged him gently but firmly, rubbing the other’s shell in a comforting hold. “Woah woah…! Bud, you have nothing to apologize for…” The slightly older teen said as he rested his chin on the top of his baby brother’s head.

“L-Like h-hell I don’t. I-I just screamed a-at y-you for no reason…” Michelangelo wobbly said. “You were just trying to lighten the mood but I just had to make everything harder like I-I always do…!”

“Mikey—”

“I-I always do this. I-I’m so f-fucking s-sorry Leo…”

“Mikester…I-I appreciate the apology but it seriously isn’t necessary—”

“You’re probably so sick of me and so angry at me. I-I’m sorry I just—”

“Mikey!” Leo gently yelled to get the other’s attention, squeezing the smaller turtle’s hands as he stared straight at him with pleading eyes. “Do I look mad?”

“…N-No.”

“Do I sound mad?”

“…No.”

The second youngest sadly smiled, “So what are you apologizing for, hm?”

“…I-I…dunno…I-I just…I just felt I needed to apologize…” The box turtle mumbled as he looked at his hands. The blue banded turtle sighed, slowly getting out of the hug so him and his little brother faced each other. The slider rubbed the other turtle’s palm with his thumb comfortingly, “…Do you wanna talk about it, baby bro?”

The leader in blue was just met with silence…which he could honestly work with.

“Angelo…you know you can tell me…anything, right? Like…anything. Although, it doesn’t have to be me you talk to about it. It could be Raph or Don or April or even Dad or Draxum! I just…don’t want you sitting here and bottling up the way you feel…”

Silence. Leo continued.

“You’re always there when we need you, Angel. Whether it’s to vent or to just ramble about shit, you’re just…always there. We don’t tell you this enough but we appreciate you always being someone we can lean on…”

Silence. Leo continued.

“But…you do know you can lean on us too, right? Comfort goes both ways and I can see you’re hurting, buddy. So please…if you need to talk to me…I’m right here.”

Mikey sniffled, squeezing Leo’s hand, “I-I d-dunno. Today is just…weird. This whole week has just been…weird.” Leo nodded, giving his brother his full undivided attention, “How so?”

“I just…haven’t been able to do anything…” The smaller teen admitted.

“What do you mean?” The taller teen inquired.

“I haven’t been able to do…anything. Like, I can’t draw, cook or even skateboard! Me!!! Not being able to skateboard— isn’t that crazy?!” The amber eyed turtle laughed bitterly.

“And it’s not like I can’t do it. I’m perfectly freaking capable of doing it in the right amount of time I want but my brain just. won’t. let. me!”

“I keep procrastinating and not doing the stuff I want to do and I have no idea why! I’m tired of just putting things off and being this way! I want to do things without having to ask you guys for help or to remind me or to relate it with a hyperfixation that I have!” Mikey hiccuped, a new wave of tears rolling down his face as his hands shook.

The amber eyed teen sniffled, refusing to look at his immediate older brother at all right now because…holy shit he just overshared a whole lot…

Like…a whoooooooooole freaking lot.

“…That sounds like you.” Leonardo shrugged.

In a state of just shock and confusion, the box turtle pulled his hands away from his brother, looking up at him as lime green eyes met amber ones. “I…what…?” Michelangelo murmured.

“I said that sounds like you.” Leo said again casually as Mikey glared at him, “Yeah. I heard what you said but that isn’t helpful.”

“I’m just being honest with you, Mikester.” Leo said, “Just…let me explain, okay?”

“…You have five minutes before I kick you out of my room.”

“Deal.” The lime green eyed mutant commented, “You can’t draw, cook or skateboard right now. You’re procrastinating and not doing the stuff you want to do in the time you planned…is that correct?”

Michelangelo sent deathly daggers to his brother— which the other wasn’t phased by at all. This time was probably the best time to crawl in his own shell and just sob his eyes out because what kind of dumbass question was his dumbass brother asking him?!

“…Yes.” The orange banded teen mumbled.

“And…why are those bad things?”

“WHY?!” The box turtle huffed out a laugh of annoyance, “Pfft— you’re asking me why. Maybe it’s because it’s annoying?! Maybe because it’s frustrating to deal with and I don’t want to burden you guys with my problems?! Maybe because I don’t want to fucking feel or be this way?!” The youngest shouted, breathing heavily as he finished his rant.

The box turtle looked away again, silently cursing at himself for getting annoyed so easily. “Mikey.” Leo started again, “Your being too hard on yourself, okay? No one is expecting you to be at your 100% all the time.”

“What you just described to me; you being able to not focus or you getting bored easily or procrastinating with stuff is…literally you. You’re just being you.” The slider explained as he held his baby brother’s hand in his. “And I get it. It’s hard to deal with it sometimes and it’s going to be hella frustrating. Like…super borderline frustrating. But you can’t shun them away and just…try to ignore them, bubs…”

“Let’s take moi for example. I’m impulsive, I talk loud and lose things daily. Those three things don’t make up my whole personality but it would be super weird and off-putting if I just…didn’t do or have those three things, right?”

The youngest giggled wetly, “Yeah…it would. A-And by the way, I’m still waiting for you to find that glittery pen kit I gave you…”

Leonardo groaned loudly and dramatically, causing the other teen to giggle louder, “I’m looking for it, okay?! It’s in my room…somewhere.” The taller mutant mused, “But anyways…back to you. You procrastinate, you relate things to your hyperfixations and you can’t do some of your favorite tasks from time to time…those are some traits that make up you, is it not?”

Mikey sniffled, rolling his eyes playfully due to the fact he knew damn well where this was going, “Yeah…”

Leo smiled softly, seeing his younger brother was starting to get his point, “I wouldn’t change a single thing about you, okay? I know sometimes it’s hard to deal with the things you described but you have us for that.” He said as his smile turned to a grin.

“You can come to me— to us— anytime. We love you for who you are…your flaws and all and we just…I-I need you to know that we love you so so much—!” The slider was cut off by a sudden abrupt embrace from the box turtle. The orange banded teen sobbed into the other’s shoulder, clutching the taller turtle like a lifeline.

“T-Thank you…” The box turtle wobbly said through tears.

“Of course, Angel.” Leo said as he hugged his baby brother back, “I love you.” He said as he kissed the other teen on the head.

“I-I l-love you too…”

“Tell your thoughts to shut up.” Leo said as he lightly poked Mikey in the forehead numerous times. The two were sitting on the box turtle’s bed just simply…relaxing and enjoying each other’s company. Michelangelo was sitting in between his older brother’s legs as he had his shell to his brother’s plastron.

Leonardo hugged his brother protectively, resting his chin on the top of the box turtle’s head. “What do you mean?” The youngest giggled out. “I can hear your thoughts, man. You’re not bothering me or disturbing me in any way, shape or form, alright…?”

The amber eyed turtle nodded, squeezing Leo’s hand, “Y-Yeah…I know...”

“I’m choosing to be here because I love you. I don’t feel obligated to be here, okay? You’re not annoying and you, neither your problems are a burden…okay?” The slider said reassuringly, “It’s okay to ask us for help…and we don’t mind reminding you to do things…okay?”

“You’ve said ‘okay’ like, fifty times…”

“Mikey.”

“Mhm…yeah yeah…I gotcha…”

The elder looked at his brother skeptically, resting his chin on his little brother’s shoulder so they made solid eye contact, “I want you to say it.”

“…Say what exactly?”

“I want you to say that you are an amazing person and you don’t need to change a single thing about yourself.”

“You are an amazing person and you don’t need to change a single thing about yourself.” Michelangelo grinned smugly. Leonardo glared at the youngest’s interpretation to his statement, “Mikey, you know exactly what I meant.”

“I said what you wanted me to say…so…” The amber eyed teen trailed off.

“Michelangelo.” The slider said in a warning tone as he poked the other’s side. The box turtle squeaked at the unexpected touch, trying to stop his immediate older brother from doing it again but his brother had a strong but gentle grip on him…

Then the smallest turtle came to recognition that he was stuck in a potential tickle hug with no way out…

…How wonderful.

“L-Leeheeo…doohoo nahat.” The orange banded mutant warned through his giggles, said warning not seeming too threatening due to the fact he was already laughing up a storm. The leader in blue raised a brow, poking the other’s side repeatedly, “I just want you to repeat what I said…in the first person.” The taller teen specified.

The smaller turtle squirmed in the hug, small frantic giggles pouring out of his mouth. This…really wasn’t how he was expecting his day to go. Just about an hour ago, he was wallowing in sadness about the stuff he hated about himself, to talking about it with his brother, to now getting tickled by his brother.

…So could he really complain about how things turned out?

…Yes. Yes, he absolutely could.

“Leeheeon! Plehease dohon’t!” The youngest squealed as one of his brother’s hands hovered over his stomach. Mikey held onto the other’s wrists, trying to stop his elder brother from tickling him but his small attempts ending up to be all for nothing as Leo effortlessly tickled his stomach with one hand.

“LEEHEEHAHAHA!!” Michelangelo laughed wholeheartedly, swatting at his brother’s arms. The lime green eyed turtle cooed at the gesture, now using both of his hands to attack the youngest’s plastron, “D'aww…look at you giggling your head off~! You’re my adorable little bundle of amazingness, aren’t you~?”

The smaller teen shook his head, a faint blush appearing on his face, “STAHA— squeal N-NAHAHA!”

“What~? What was that?” The blue banded mutant asked as he kneaded the box turtle’s hips. “GYAHAH— squeal SHIHIHIT! COHOME OHAHAN!!!” The amber eyed turtle cried frantically as he kicked his legs on the mattress slightly.

The youngest squealed with laughter, curling in on himself as he slumped in his big brother’s hold. Leonardo just sighed fondly at the action, wrapping the other in another hug as he raspberried his neck. “LEEHEEHEE!! PLAHAH— squeak NAHAHAT THEHERE squeak PLEHEASE PLEHEASE— squeak!!!”

“Not there~?” The elder lightly mocked, “What about…here~?” He mused as he used his hands to scribble all over the younger turtle’s ribs. Mikey cackled, shaking his head to try and at least subside the tickly feelings.

“NAHAHA— squeal AHAHAHA!! NAHAHAT THEHEHERE EHE— squeal EHEHEITHER!!! LEEHEEO!!” The orange banded turtle squeaked as Leo stopped for a second, “I’ve tried sooooo many spots, buddy! How many times are you gonna say not there, hm?”

Mikey genuinely squawked louder than a firefighter siren, squirming so much it looked like he was actually being electrocuted. “PLEHEHAHA LEEHEEO NAHAHAT THEHEHE RIHIHIBS!!!” He cackled.

“Not the riiiibs~? Why~? Is it because it’s your tickle spot~? Your tickletickletickle spot~? Because you’re ticklish~?” Leonardo asked as he lightly nibbled the crook of Mikey’s neck.

Michelangelo screamed in laughter, scrunching up his shoulders as he dug his heels on the bed, a couple of his plushies sadly falling on the floor (R.I.P. man…) “EEEHEEHEEP!!! S-STAHAP BEEHEEING MEEHEAN!” Mikey said as he thrashed on the bed.

The slider said nothing, his hands sneaking up to the box turtle’s underarms. “AAAAHAHAHA! OHO NOHOHO— squeak SHIT! SHIHIHAHAT!”

Happy tears slowly begin to appear in the smallest teen’s eyes, he weakly hit Leo’s arms as a last attempt to be set free, “LEHEHEMME squeal GOHOHOHO!”

“Ohonly if you sahay it, bubs.”

“IHIHI— SQUEAK!! LEEHEEHEEON!!!”

“Yeeeees, baby brother~?” The elder dragged out as he kneaded the other’s hips.

“IHI’LL SAHAY IHIHAT I-IHIHI’LL SAHAHAY IHIT!!” The amber eyed teen squealed.

“And you promise not to be a sassy little shit about it~?” The older teen asked.

“SQUEAK YEHAHAHA— SQUEAK YEHES YEHES I-I PROHOHOMISE!”

Leo stopped tickling his little brother, hugging him protectively as the youngest caught his breath slowly but surely. “W-Wahait…whahat squeak wahas ihihat yohou eeheeven wahanted me squeak to sahay again?”

The taller turtle pondered for a bit, thinking to himself before loudly groaning, “That’s…a good damn question. I don’t really remember exactly what I wanted you to say in the first place…” The lime green eyed turtle sighed, “Forgetfulness at its finest...”

The red eared slider adjusted himself, making sure the other was comfortable before starting to speak again, “Well…based on what we talked about…could you maybe just…y'know…” Leo gestured with his hands before groaning, “Do you get what I’m trying to say, man?”

“…I thihink I have ahan idea…” Mikey giggled as he fiddled with his hands, “I shouldn’t beat myself up so much because of some of my traits or quirks. And I’m allowed to feel frustrated and/or upset because things don’t go my way because of them. But…I shouldn’t allow those things to put me down...”

Michelangelo smiled softly, rubbing his palm with his thumb, “They don’t define me as a person but they make me a person. I don’t need to be at my best 100% and I’m allowed to have bad days. And if things get too overwhelming or difficult I can just go to you guys.”

Mikey hugged himself, letting out a small laugh as his happy tears welled up in his eyes, “I’m just…being me. And there’s nothing wrong with that.” Leonardo teared up at his brother’s words, hugging him tighter than he ever had before and burying his face at the back of the youngest’s head.

“Never forget that, Miguelito…never forget that.”

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

#Rottmnt tickle #Rottmnt tickle fic #Rottmnt tickle fanfiction #Lee!Mikey #Ler!Leo #MWYAHSHSHHSAN #This is actually so silly I love this 💞💗💗#I hope you guys enjoyed the angst 🤪#ADHDERS AND PPL WITH ADHD TENDENCIES UNITE 🙌🏾💕🩷💓💘💝💗‼️‼️‼️#Adhd is a bitch 🖤…#Leo can be an asshole at times but he doesn’t mean to I swear 😭💔#My boy just copes with jokes but he has a hard time understanding that not EVERYONE copes like that #So when Mikey snapped at him and started breaking down he was like: “😁 -> 😄 -> 😀 -> 😐 -> 🫢”#I HATTTEEE forgetting to brush my teeth 😟…it’s so damn nasty man #AND NOT BEING ABLE TO DRAW LIKE YOU USED TO⁉️⁉️⁉️ GRAUGHHHH REAL SHIT #I care about these two sm omfg #I need more content with these tWO LOOK AT THEM 🥹💙🧡!!!#“Tell ur thoughts to shut up 😒” msndhjsjss peak sibling comment #Also I changed my writing style a TEEEEENSY weensy bit if you haven’t guessed #For a while…I haven’t like the **’s I put at the noises that characters made when they laughed :/#Soooo I tried just doing it in italics and AHHUUGHFHS 😖💖💗💘💝🩷💓💞💕#IT LOOKS SM BETTER #I just wanted the laughing to seem more natural #Your just being you guys 🫶🏾#DON’T BE SO HARD ON YOURSELF PLEASEEEE #Eat some snacks!!! Drink some water/juice!!! Exercise!!!#Your allowed to feel the way you do so just take it easy ☺️👍🏾#I’M RUNNING OUTTA TAGS BUT IF ANYONE WANTS TO TALK ABOUT THE BEHIND THE STAGE WORKS ON HOW I MADE THIS I CAN ALWAYS YAP TO YOU ABT IT 😈🤌🏾#I don’t think I implied this very well but Leo feels the same way Mikey feels…so that’s why he was so PERSISTENT on making sure Mikey’s alr #But Leo take his own advice challenge GO 🗣️🗣️🗣️‼️‼️‼️ Maybe a pt. 2 🫢??? Idk yet lolololololol

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bloomseishiro · 9 days ago

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Heyyy! Got a request if you’re taking! 🤞 So, Rin x Reader 🔥

They fight, Reader goes to a party to chill. Bestie sees her crying, comforts her, then teases Rin by giving Reader a fake hickey with makeup and calls Rin to pick her up, saying Reader’s tipsy. Rin freaks out, rushes over feelin’ guilty. On the way home, Rin spots the hickey, gets mad jealous. Reader pretends it’s real — Rin gets all possessive, kisses her rough in the car. Finds out it’s fake but can’t stop himself. Ends with some intense car vibes — jealousy, love, and pure need. 😈💋🔥

Also, LOVE your fics!! 😍 Your writing’s such a vibe, always brightens my day! Keep doing you and take care, okay? 💖✨💯 Sending lots of good vibes! 😘💕

BAD IDEA, RIGHT? — ITOSHI RIN

౨ৎ — you get into a fight with rin and your best friend comes up with an idea for revenge. no one said it was a good idea…especially not rin when he spots a giant hickey on your neck.

itoshi rin x fem!reader. established relationship, sexual tension, suggestive content, 18+, mdni, no smut just rough make out sesh, fluff, alc consumption, this is lowkey toxic HAHAH but i support women’s wrongs <3, reader and bestie have like one collective brain cell, possessive!rin mmm yummy, wrote this with college au in mind !!

word count. 2.2k

a/n. ANON U DESERVE A MILLION COOKIES FOR THIS IDEA HEHE i love it sm i hope you enjoy!! and thank u sooo much for ur kind words <3 it means a lot to me!! ^-^ i hope you take care too and lots of love my dear nonnie xoxo

Fighting with your boyfriend sucks, but getting caught sobbing at a party sucks even worse. Mainly because you know strangers will see and talk about you as “that one sad girl from last night.”

You only solace is that your best friend spots you crying the moment she enters the room and rushes to your side immediately, eyes wide with worry.

“What’s wrong?” she cries, shoving open a closed bedroom door and ushering you inside and away from the crowds. “Don’t tell me some asshole dared to lay a finger on you—”

Fervently, you shake your head. “No, nothing like that. Don’t worry.”

She frowns. “If it’s not that, then what is it?”

Sighing, you plop down on the edge of the bed, hoping whatever frat guy’s room you’re in has washed his sheets recently. “Rin and I are fighting,” you mope. “And now he’s not talking to me.”

“What a jerk!” your best friend exclaims, always ready to take your side no matter the reason.

You crack a smile at the way she jumps to your defense. “It’s just so frustrating because he never apologizes first after an argument. And this time, I don’t want to be the one to! So now, we’re just in a stalemate because he’s so stubborn.”

“Men are idiots,” she says with an eye roll. “Lucky for you, I know the perfect way to get Rin to cave. He’ll realize just how much he’s missing!”

Eying her warily, you can’t help but ask, “What exactly are you thinking…?”

She grins evilly, taking her purse off her shoulder and pulling out a little makeup pouch. Shuffling through the contents, she makes a noise of satisfaction as she pulls out a mini eyeshadow palette and a reddish purple lipstick.

Confused, you tilt your head to the side. “You’re going to do my makeup?”

“Sure… Something like that.”

You blink.

“Come here and give me your neck!” she says impatiently. “I’m going to give you a fake hickey. We’re going to make Rin so jealous he grovels for just a crumb of your attention.”

“You think that’s a good idea?” you say worriedly, touching your collarbone and glancing at the makeup in your best friend’s hands.

She simply shrugs, as if she put no further thought into this so-called plan. “Not sure. Guess we’ll find out!”

You didn’t drink much tonight (alcohol and sadness would only create even more embarrassing tears), but just the proximity of alcohol must’ve dulled your brain cells even more, since you decided to agree. “Well, okay. Why not?”

With a wide smile, she gets to work, expertly applying eyeshadows and lip gloss until it looks like there’s a fresh new hickey on the side of your neck.

Taking a step back, she admires her work with a proud sniffle. “Wow. Looks better than any of the hickeys I’ve gotten.”

“Maybe you need to make out with better people,” you giggle, thinking about how Rin’s hickeys look much better than this fake one. Feel better, too.

“Ugh, whatever,” she scoffs playfully. “Not everyone can have a hot as shit and slightly psychotic boyfriend who hates everyone except his girlfriend.”

Her description makes you laugh before you remember your fight and how he still isn’t talking to you. Suddenly, your shoulders slump as you pout. “What if he hates me now, too?”

“He doesn’t! He’s so obsessed with you, babe,” she promises sincerely, giving you a hug. “He’s just a little stupid and stubborn! Here, give me your phone.”

You eye her questioningly but oblige nonetheless.

With your phone in hand, your best friend unlocks the screen and calls Rin.

“Hey!” you protest, but she puts her finger to her lips the moment he picks up.

“Hello?” he mumbles, sounding tired. It is almost midnight, after all. Rin was probably trying to sleep.

“Hey, Rin!” your friend sings.

Rin stays silent and you hear shuffling noises coming from his side of the line, likely him realizing he wasn’t on the phone with you. “What do you want?”

“Y/N’s, like, sooo tipsy right now,” she says, pretending to slur her words as well. “We’re at a party because, you know, you made her all depressed after your fight, but I think you need to come pick her up now…”

You hear the sound of a door opening and a car unlocking.

“I’m on my way,” he says as the engine revs in the background. “Please watch her until I get there.”

The phone beeps as the call ends and your best friend looks at you smugly.

“What?” you ask her, raising your brow.

“Told you he loves you. He even answered on the first ring!”

Your cheeks heat up as you look to the floor, shrugging. “Yeah,” you say quietly.

“But, you can’t forgive him just yet!” she scolds. “You have to pretend you're drunk and then he’ll see your hickey and get super jealous and regret what he did even more.”

“Or he could get mad and think I cheated and break up with me,” you try to reason.

She shakes her head. “Nah. He wouldn’t…” she trails off, suddenly unsure. “Well, maybe taking a few shots first would help?”

Your brain is, once again, telling you this is not a great idea. But, once again, you choose to ignore it. “Yeah, probably.”

With a grin, she leads you out of the room and back to the party where the two of you begin to take shot after shot. Not enough to get too fucked up, of course, but enough to think maybe your best friend’s idea is amazing after all.

But the time Rin arrives, the statement that you’re “sooo tipsy right now” is no longer a lie. In fact, as Rin’s car pulls up into the driveway, you all but stumble into his arms while your best friend winks goodbye.

“Hey, Rinnie,” you drawl, a careless grin on your face.

“Hey,” he replies quietly, looking you up and down with concern in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Just peachy!” you chirp as you enter the passenger seat of his car. “Just a little dizzy. And I want fries…”

He exhales through his nose before getting into the driver’s seat and starting his car. “Okay, we can stop by somewhere before heading to my place. How much did you drink?”

“Not too much,” you promise, leaning sideways against the car window and closing your eyes at the lightheaded feeling that rushes through you. “Just…enough.”

“Enough?” repeats Rin with a snort, glancing over at you for a brief second.

In that one moment, you notice his mood change as he abruptly pulls the car over to the side of the road.

You open your eyes at the jolt of inertia and your confused gaze meets Rin’s pissed off face. And by pissed off, you really do mean angry as shit.

“What is that?” he asks, barely able to control the tone of his voice.

You bolt upright with worry, not yet realizing what he’s talking about. “What?” you ask with wide eyes.

His eyes darken and his glare zeroes in on your collarbone. “That thing on your neck,” he spits. “Is that a fucking hickey?”

Realization crashes over you like a wave and you temporarily feel the alcohol evaporate from your body. What the hell were you and your best friend thinking again? “Oh, shit.”

“That’s all you have to say for yourself?” he asks incredulously.

You shake your head. “No! Well, I mean, it’s just…” as you begin to explain yourself, you hear your friend's voice in the back of your head telling you this is the best way to make Rin grovel after your fight. Pushing aside your guilty conscience (and your last thread of logic and rationality), you bite your tongue and nod. “Yeah. I didn’t think you would care. It’s not like you’ve even talked to me the last two days.”

Rin grits his teeth and unbuckles his seatbelt to face you fully, leaning over to your side of the car with an annoyed expression. “Didn’t think I care?”

You shrug, trying not to give in.

“You know damn well I care,” he barks out, reaching out to brush the side of your neck, his touch is gentle but his fingers tremble, as if he’s holding himself back from snapping by a single thread. “Just because we’re in the middle of a fight doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

Biting the corner of your lower lip, you swallow and remain silent.

“It doesn’t matter how bad our fight is. No one is allowed to touch you like that,” Rin warns, placing his large hand on the nape of your neck and guiding you towards him. “If I ever see someone else’s mark on you again, I won’t be so patient next time.”

Your stomach churns with a mixture of dread and excitement. “What will you do?” you prompt, voice catching in your throat.

“Murder them,” he says simply. “And punish you.”

With a sharp inhale, you make a mental note to send your best friend a giant thank you basket for the fake hickey.

Before you can open your mouth to reply, Rin’s patience snaps as he grabs your chin and lifts it up until your lips clash against his. Your eyes widen in surprise at the sudden movement before your shoulders relax as the familiar scent of Rin fills your senses.

He presses himself deeper into the kiss, nipping roughly at your plush bottom lip as his hand trails down from your chin to your neck. His warm, calloused hand lingers at the base of your neck for a few seconds too long before he lazily trails down your breasts and stomach, stopping only to grab at your waist and pull you tight against his body.

You arch your back as his grip on you tightens, urging your body to feel every inch of Rin that you possibly can. Your hands find their way around his neck, intertwining your fingers through his hair.

“Mmm,” you moan when you feel the teasing wetness of his tongue lick the spot he just bit. “Is this supposed to be a punishment?”

“No,” he murmurs in between kisses, slowly pulling away from your lips to trail his hot, wet mouth against your jaw and down to the spot on your neck behind your ear. “This is just to show you how much better it is with me.”

You feel a shiver shoot down your spine as Rin begins to toy with the most sensitive spot of your neck, nipping and sucking and licking until you’re a squirming mess on his passenger seat.

“That dumbass didn’t even give you a hickey in your favorite place,” he says mockingly, teasingly biting the lobe of your ear once he was satisfied with the mark he made. “How embarrassing.”

You whine as he caresses your ear so gently, it tickles.

“You’re mine,” growls Rin under his breath. “No one can make you feel as good as I do. Isn’t that right, baby?”

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you make a pathetic noise of agreement.

You feel Rin smirk against your skin before he pulls away and lets you catch your breath. At this distance, he manages to take a look at your so-called hickey, brows furrowing when he notices how smudged it’s become.

“What—?” his words break off, taking a look at his fingertips that now had purple and red eyeshadow and lipgloss on it. “Y/N… What the hell is this?”

At his confused and helpless expression, you can’t help but stifle the giggle that escapes you.

His crease between his brows crinkle even more at your lack of explanation.

“I’m sorry, Rinnie,” you relent after releasing all your laughter. “No one gave me a hickey at the party. My friend knew we were fighting and we wanted to get back at you.” Touching the mess on your neck, you wipe it away with the back of your hand. “It’s just makeup.”

“Makeup,” he deadpans.

You nod sheepishly. “Makeup…” you repeat, showing him the eyeshadow smeared on you. “No matter how bad of a fight we’re in, I would never do that to you, Rin.”

He notices your tone switch from playful to genuine and he looks up at you with a serious expression on his face. “Good. I can’t play soccer professionally if I get arrested for murdering the person who gives you a hickey.”

“The only person that would be is yourself,” you promise with a grin, fingers instrinctly grazing the sensitive love bite he just made. “You’re the only person I want kissing my neck, anyway.”

“The smartest thing you’ve said all day,” says Rin dryly, placing another kiss on your jaw. “Still, your punishment for that stupid prank isn’t over.”

“It’s not?”

He shakes his head slowly, darkened eyes trained on you with a half-lidded gaze. “Hasn’t even started.”

Suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of the heat between the two of you fogging up his car windows. With the heavy breathing and hot touches, it’s no wonder the temperature around you rose. Add in the alcohol that is still lingering in your system, and it’s a recipe for a volcanic eruption.

His fingers cup your cheek and they brush sensually against your soft skin. You lean in, anticipating another kiss when he pulls away with a laugh.

You whine and pout, but it only adds fuel to Rin’s cruel satisfaction.

“Let’s get you some fries first.”

#🌸.writings #🌸.bloom after dark #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #rin x reader #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x you #blue lock #bllk #bllk fanfic #rin itoshi #itoshi rin #rin itoshi x you #rin x you #itoshi rin x you #bllk x y/n

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graciecow · 6 months ago

Text

Hiii I’m Gracie 🥰💖

This isn’t my first rodeo, soo hiii icky men I’m backkk😝

If you had my Snapchat from like a month ago Snapchat deleted me so I didn’t ghost ya I promise 😘

I am a 25 year old bimbo, Hucow, sometimes sensitive little girl 🥺💖

LIMITS:

Piss

Scat

Vomit

Feet

Wax

Beast

Hard pain

Fire

Blood

INTO:

A LOT

Hope you enjoy your scrolling 😝 if you cum because of my pics/ blog you’re obligated to tell me and show me the mess you make 😈😘

#an@l wh0re #bd/sm corruption #bimbo training #hucow training #corruption kink #bd/sm blog #huc0w

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prettyflyforawhitelie · 1 year ago

Note

Hi I love your work so far, do you think you could do headcannons for all the different characters of the main Hazbin Hotel cast when their lover comes to them injured? Like how they would treat you and then how they would deal with the person who harmed you. I would love to see this ahhhh 😫

Ahh of course! I love this, thanks for the request! I hope you like it!

Trope: Hazbin Hotel x Injured!reader

Characters: Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie, Angeldust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Lucifer

Warnings: Physical violence, mention of death, injured reader, blood.

author's note: hey guys! this is my first time doing one of these, and I'm still getting better, so forgive me if its a bit shabby. If you have any requests, feel free to send them in! I'm in a creative buzz rn lol. Enjoy!

🦌📻Alastor📻🦌:

The day that your attacker decides to hurt you is the day that they decide to die. Messing with the Radio Demon’s plaything is about the last thing you want to do.

Alastor often sent his shadows to follow you into town when he couldnt be with you, so the second you were attacked, Alastor could sense that something was wrong.

By the time his shadows had carried you back to the hotel, your attacker had already escaped, but luckily, his shadows saw everything.

When he rushed down to see you, he seemed rather indifferent at first. He carried you up to his room, immediately conjuring several healing ointments to heal you quickly.

He laid you in his bed, in which you almost immediately fell asleep.

He hears the whispers of his shadows, and gains all of the information he needs out of them.

With a single snap of his finger, the issue was taken care of. Rumor has it that the screams of your attackers' seemingly “random” death could be heard about 3 rings down.

While waiting for you to wake, Alastor conjures two steaming bowls of his mother’s jambalaya. Placing one on the side table next to you, he sits down next to your sleeping body and lightly grazes your head, singing soothing songs until you wake up.

😈🗝️Charlie🗝️😈:

Would of course be so very angry at whoever did this, but her first priority would be healing you up and making sure that you’re absolutely 100% okay and comfortable.

Would set you up in her bed and assure that you have anything at all that would make you feel more comfortable. Tea? Yup. Ice pack? Already got it. Cuddles? Of course!

Would definitely let you cuddle with Razzle and Dazzle for as long as you needed.

She would try her best to talk to you and figure out what happened - to figure out who did this to you.

As you told her, she seemed surprisingly… calm? She simply thanked you for telling her and left the room.

Though Charlie doesn't seem like a particularly violent person… She can get protective over the people she loves. So, let's just say she got that issue taken care of real quick. How stupid to mess with the Morningstar family.

🪽⚔️Vaggie⚔️🪽:

Anybody in her vicinity needs to watch out when she hears that her love is hurt.

Like, seriously, heads will roll. But not before she checks on you to evaluate how badly she needs to fuck up the person who did this to you.

When she sees you, bruised and bloody, she can't help but hold you so tight and cry, scolding you for getting yourself into a bad situation without her there to protect you.

Vaggie knows what it feels like to be beaten and dumped on the side of the street like garbage. She could never forgive herself if she allowed that to happen to anybody else, let alone the genuine love of her life.

When she asks for the person who did this, you can only give her a vague description. That’s alright though, she will use her former exterminator skills to scan all of Hell and find the person who dared to do this to you. She will not leave this alone until she serves you justice.

🕷️💖Angeldust💖🕷️:

Coming home from the studio to find you in his room, crying and bruised, he immediately drops whatever he’s doing and comforts you in the biggest hug ever.

Angel has plenty of experience with being abused and left to fend for himself, so he doesn't immediately resort to asking questions. No, that’s not what you need right now. You just need to know that you’re loved, beautiful, and that this does nothing to affect your worth or value as a person.

He carries you from the floor to his bed, covering you in blankets and laying next to you with Fat Nuggets.

“It’s okay baby. You can cry, it's okay.” he whispers as you sob into his chest.

He allows you to initiate the conversation of what happened, not wanting to push you past your limits.

Once he finds out what happened, he knows what he has to do. He waits until you fall asleep, and heads down to the club where your attacker happens to frequent. For once, being a famous pornstar will actually serve in his favor. He tempts your attacker to follow him, and immediately beats him to an absolute pulp.

He allows the person to live, saying “I am only letting you live so you can know how it feels. You ever try this shit again, and I will find you. Except that time, you wont leave here looking so… whole.”

♥️♦️Husk♦️♥️:

Husk is used to all the residents of the hotel bitching and moaning to him about all of their issues. With Charlie coming to him and oftentimes crying about the many failures of the hotel, tears were no foreign sight to him.

But coming from the kitchen to the bar and seeing you there, looking an absolute mess, was different.

“What the-What the fuck happened?” he yells. When you flinch, he knows that something happened.

When you explain to him what happened, he immediately needs a description of the attacker. He takes possibly the largest shot you've ever seen and storms out of the hotel.

He wishes that he could do more to protect you. Back when he was an overlord, he had power beyond anybody's imagination. He could've snapped a finger and your attacker would simply disintegrate (but not before he tortured him a bit first). But now that Alastor owned his soul, his powers were limited.

You know what wasn't limited on husk, though? His pure physical strength.

He immediately finds the guy walking on the street adjacent to the hotel (dumb, right?) and absolutely obliterates him.

As the attacker is begging for his life, he just keeps hitting, blind with rage and love for you.

When he wants back into the hotel bloody and exasperated, he sits in the stool next to you and wraps you with one of his wings.

“It’s all okay now. I’m here” he says as you lean on his shoulder, so ready to go to bed.

🐍⚙️Sir Pentious⚙️🐍:

Sir Pentious always loved coming to your room to show you his many zany inventions. Normally you welcome him in with open arms, a sweet smile on your face, but today was different.

When he knocked on your door, he was met with absolute silence, which isn't normal for you. When he listened a bit closer, though, he could hear your small sniffles. He trusted his gut and slowly opened the door, fully ready to be denied entry.

Instead, you looked at him shyly, turning away and crying. He could've sworn that he saw a… black eye?

He took this opportunity to come and sit next to you on your floor, placing his arm around you and letting you lean your head on his shoulder.

When he noticed that you were calming down a bit, he asked you what was wrong.

You explained that while you were engaged in a turf war, some ruffian beat you up, and badly. The girl you had momentarily teamed up with had left you behind, and you were left to trek back to the hotel on your own, barely able to walk.

You could see something change in his eyes.

He curled his tail around you, his cool skin calming your nerves. He assured you that he was here now, and nothing like this would ever happen to you again. He then swiftly called his egg bois to entertain and comfort you while he prepared his airship. The idiot that did this to you was going to pay, and not just in turf.

😈🐣Lucifer🐣😈:

Bursting into Lucifer’s room, the only thing you could mutter is “Help” as you fell into his arms.

He frantically carried you to a chair and tried to assess your injuries. Man, someone fucked you up, and badly. Too bad he would kill them before they could brag about their success.

He rushed to find ANYTHING that could help you. Bandages, ice, your favorite food, a rubber duck, ANYTHING.

When he finds you absolutely passed out asleep in the chair, he gently moves you to his bed and tries his best not to stir you.

As he sits watching you, thinking of your beautiful smile (and how he’ll brutally kill the person who did this to you), he observes your features with great detail.

When you wake up, you smile. Lucifer must have gone, but sitting on your table is a bowl of soup and… is that a rubber duck that looks like you?

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #Charlie Morningstar xreader #charlie x reader #vaggie x reader #lucifer x reader #sir pentious x reader #husk x reader #angel dust x reader #alastor x reader #helluva boss #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel oneshots #injured reader

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astrologylunadream · 1 year ago

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How They Want to Please You [SPICY] 💌🌹🫦 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

Hey it's Lunadream~💋 This is a reading on your person and how exactly they would want to please you and their approach to that!!🤭❤️‍🔥 hope you find your message💌

(This is a spicy reading🔥 Some piles more intense than others)

Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)

Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of the your person, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~❤️

Pile 1💋

Pile 2🔗

Pile 3❤️

Pile 4🍒

Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡

On to the readings —> ❤️‍🔥

Pile 1💋

Sign energy: Long, Threat, Marriage, Therapy, Stress, Jupiter, Libra, 8th house, Cancer, 3rd house,👈🧱🤴🤒

👤Your person's energy: Okay for some reason I was getting indirect Taurus energy but anyways your person VERY good at communication, omg they may take part in long discussions and like drawn out conversations or hypothetical stuff.. or simply just talk alot LOL💬😂 For signs we have Sagittarius, Pisces, Libra, Scorpio, Cancer and Gemini wow those may be significant. Some of my pile 1's are very attracted to the way this person talks.🗣🥰🩷 I'm getting that your person may always feel like they need someone to listen to them because my pile 1's your person has a lot of stress omg they need to let it out😭 Talking with others may feel like true therapy to them, they feel better when they have someone to talk to🥺💕 For some of you this person has long legs or even bigger features, something is definitely long about them.🙈😈 I'm also hearing "why the long face?" So maybe your person has a worried look washed upon their face, oh this could be because their stress.😟💧 Some of you are in a committed relationship to this person or you see them as marriage material.💍✔️ It is hard for your person to open up to just anyone on a deeper level, they may have been in bad relationships before or over shared themselves. This person might have even cut out romantic connections entirely.✋️✂️ Specific message for someone in pile 2 they could have a lot of siblings, I definitely feel your person knows many people or someone could be a therapist. They could have an ex still obsessed with them maybe they're your ex, divorce or break ups may be significant to your person. They do have a magnetic way about them, like I feel like them as a spouse would be so HOT😳 I'm hearing "trophy wife/husband" lol that is what they are like or would be like.🏆✨️ You guys may be a bit obsessed with this person, some of you don't wanna wait for Intimacy after marriage.🙈❤️‍🔥

🌹How they wanna please you: Self love, Fluff, Skill, Inner thoughts, Fairytale, Libra, Eros, Uranus, North node, Capricorn, 🏩😎🌹🐈 My pile 1's your person is so sweet and so naughty at the same time😭😭 First and foremost they want you to be happy and love your life omg they wanna make you feel like you're in a fairytale🥺💖 They also want to make you feel pretty and love yourself just as much as they do. There are so many things they wanna try with you pile 1!! They are literally thinking about a SOLID future with you, they want to provide and pleasure you and give you the love you deserve omfg this is too much💓🪽🥹 They have thoughts of your thing, if you know what I mean🙈🥵 They want to know your body well do everything right with you, like they want to be an expert at it. They may want to experiment a lot with you to see exactly what you like and what pleases you the most.🔥😈😭 Your person is kinky, They also want to use their fingers inside WTF they think about exactly how turn you on. They want you to think good about yourself and feel beautiful with them. Also taking you to a motel so you guys enjoy your time alone and be as unusual as you want?!🏩 Going hard on your 🍑 If you want it🥵 They also want to give you something to see, like doing things to themselves for you. OH MY pile 1 your person would do anything🫣💦 Your person is big on pleasing you visually, but not just with themselves but with everything. Like taking you to beautiful scenery and giving you flowers in hopes that you're just as pleased with that as you are with them✨️💐💗 They just really wanna turn you on and for you to be so happy with them, some of you may be very impressed how much they know what you like. I mean seriously this person thinks pile 1 is so lovely and attractive🥺 They want to please you at the highest level and just make you feel so in love and treated well😭💝

💌Messages from your person: It's okay to have high standards, I hear you, I wish I could, I think you're a great person, Your secrets safe with me, Your first love, What are your biggest fantasies? Put your hand on mine. (So sweet🥰🩷) Extra cards: Pisces, Focus, Up, Store, Abandonment, Gemini, Saturn, Uranus, Libra, 10th house

Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️‍🔥

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the kiss emoji~💋 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading✨️🤭❤️

Pile 2🔗

Sign energy: Attraction, Sensitivity, Important, Only one, Mystery, Chiron, Aquarius, 3rd house, 5th house, 1st house,🖇♀️💼🥳

👤Your person's energy: This is someone very special, you may see them as one of a kind✨️ My pile 2's are attracted to this person and you want to connect with them and have sweet conversations with them😭💓 Signs could be Aquarius, Gemini, Leo or Aries in their chart. Your person has a soft feminine vibe to them (no matter the gender) They may talk in a gentle way. They may have a hobby unknown to you or they hide it, they could be interested in career/hobbies related to entertainment, artist, creator, or music.🎨 I'm getting anonymous vibes from your person, for some in pile 1 they have a secret channel or social media account they share their work on. Now your person may get hurt a lot on accident, they are very sensitive to injuries.😢🩹 Maybe they have a noticable scar for some of you? You feel very connected to this person, like they are your twin flame kinda thing.❤️‍🔥 They work for fun I'm hearing, or start a lot of fun little projects for themselves. They are very creative and sweet, I am getting gentle artistic energy. This could be a close friend for some of you, or a friendly connection between you both. This person may feel like the only one you can talk to like a best friend. They play a big role in your life, they also may be someone important online.📱✨️ They are very fun at parties, I think their sweet and charming nature makes them very attractive to you. This person has such lovely features and gestures!!🥺💖 They also have a senstive side to them, that may have been what attracted you to them as well. You have no idea how they have such a beautiful aura to them lol🥰🩷

🌹How they wanna please you: Pride, Competition, Long, Truth, Decor, Cancer, Water, 9th house, Venus, 1st house, 🗞👑💐🛎 Okay so acts of service may be something your person wants to do for you💓 They want to please you by doing sweet little things for you, this might be the most innocent pile omg it's just so cute🥹💓💕 They want you to make you feel cared for and take pride in yourself! So your person is a bit competitive about pleasing you, maybe there is a situation where they aren't the only one who's out to please pile 2 right now OMG for some of you this person is very defensive over being the only one that pleases you and the best at it. (This makes them so emotional😭❤️) Also taking you on a long trip with them somewhere beautiful ooh and I'm seeing somewhere near water so maybe they're wanting to take you on a vacation somewhere by a body of water so like lakes, rivers or the ocean.🌊🧭💘 They want to please you aesthetically most importantly, making sure your surroundings and over all environment is nice and beautiful enough for my pile 2's🥺💗 I'm getting they definitely wanna win your heart, also flowers!! This is so sweet, they would want to please you by giving you roses and pretty lovely bouquets to express just how genuine their feelings are for you guys omg.. I feel like if you come over to this person's space they will decorate it very beautifully for you to see, like they take pride in their decorating skills I'm hearing.🌸🛍✨️ Also with their appearance, they wish to look amazing for your eyes to see. I can see them wanting to restrain themselves for your pleasure.🫣 They want to serve you in any way they can, that may be something they wish to please you with, lol for some this person wants to clean for you like help with whatever's on your to do list so you can just sit back and be spoiled by them.👑😩💓 This person is head over heels for our lovely pile 2🥰 They want to hold you. I am hearing they truly care for you, they want you to feel comfy and pretty with your surroundings. Ahh pile 2 your person is such ring material LOL.💍

💌Messages from your person: Let me adore you, Focus on us, If I had you, This is madness, It's not what it looks like, I wish I could control it, We will find eachother again, I want to spend my life with you (AHH PILE 2 🥳🤧❤️) Extra cards: Situation, Competition, Fantasy, Worthy, Options, Earth, Jupiter, Sagittarius, 2nd house, Aquarius (Ohh so your person want's to be worthy to compete for your love and for some in this pile they may be a second option for you right now!!)

Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️‍🔥

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the chain emoji~🔗 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading✨️🤭❤️

Pile 3❤️

Sign energy: Synchrony, Respect, Diamond, Peace, Flirt, Aries, 3rd house, 10th house, Pluto, Sun,🕳❤️🎨🔙

👤Your person's energy: Okay so there is a masculine energy for this pile's person, very powerful aura about them✨️😎 Prominent energies for them are Aries, Gemini, Capricorn, Scorpio or Leo. The way this person speaks may stand out to you, because they are smooth with their words. For some of you this person is so good at flirting it's scary😳🥵 They can win anyone over with just their words I'm hearing, they have such a magnetic way about them omg🔥🧲 They can make people obsessed with them easily, their public image is seen as something rare. People view your person as sensually attractive. I think they are more playful with the people they know, but when they're interacting with acquaintances they can be very intimidating yet very hot.🤯 They have a bold energy to them, people immediately feel like they should respect or admire them in some way.✨️ Maybe you see yourself in this person, you may share similar views. People fall for your person's charms so quick, there is a deep love and admiration for their self worth. Your person is creative and very interesting in most conversations, they keep things interesting.💬🎉 They could have a deep voice, or a pleasing one that draws you in. They could also be in shape or bigger than you in appearance or vibe. Your person may own accessories made of jems or diamonds📿⌚️ This is a random message but you two would be very physically compatible?!🙈🔥 Yeah this person can draw you in deep and they just say one word and it turns you on LOL😭 Many of my pile 3's are in love with this person, I mean on another level. They are quick witted, I'm also hearing fast reflexes for this person. They shine like a jewel in their productivity or work, I mean they can be really smooth and calm like talking in a low voice but then when they're passionate about something they will consume it😳

🌹How they wanna please you: Pain, Big, Lay down, 11th house, Early, Lilith, Chiron, Cancer, Jupiter, Capricorn,🪫🌧🗒🔱 Omfg pile 3 your person is something else😭 They wanna please you in the most intense way you can handle, I'm hearing they want to drown you in pleasure until it drains you both completely...🪫🥵 They want to be so naughty with you, like filling out EVERY one of your kinks. They want to force you down if it's what works, laying you down and going hard on you💦🥵🥵 They have big fantasies about you and wanna achieve all of yours too. Like I'm not kidding I feel like they literally have a to do list of everything they want to please you with WTF🤯🫣 You bring out a different side of them for real. They would dominate you if it brings you pleasure. They want to record a lot of videos of you two, especially the times they can please you the most. They want to give you pain if it pleases you, but they will also match your intensity and be gentle if they need to.🥺❤️ They want to lay you down and let it out aggressively or just simply cuddle with you, whatever they can do to fullfill your fantasies. They want to make it rain and that's all I'll say.😳 (they could also wish to spend a lot of money on you). They want to give you lots of aftercare and heal you emotionally or physically any way they can. I'm seeing a lot of duality with this person, they could really please you in different ways. They want to comfort you and make you feel safe, but also please you like really hard😈 My pile 3's your person is so naughty for you😭😭 They want grinding and restraining, that's something they think would give you pleasure too. Their dark side really comes out for you guys wtf, I think you heal eachother's issues in some way😢🩹 I can see them wanting to post all about you on their social media, not the bad stuff but just cute photos of you. They save the bad ones for themselves🥵 Wow this pile got crazy also your person wants to suck on your skin (😳) or piercing sensations if that pleases you. Also they want to give you the best one you've ever experienced🔞💭 I'M ENDING IT THERE

💌Messages from your person: I've been so busy, I love us, I know you like me, You're the one that I want, When you look at me like that, Your eyes are beautiful, You have so much worth, Why can't you see? (OMG I'm flipping out that is so sweet😭😍⁉️) Extra cards: Down, Found, Siblings, Cherish, Maze, Juno, Pisces, Chiron, Mercury, 7th house (Your person loves the way you communicate btw they really see you as a straight up soulmate🙈❤️)

Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️‍🔥

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the red heart emoji~❤️ Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading✨️🤭❤️

Pile 4🍒

Sign energy: Right, Museum, Surrender, Reserved, Less, 11th house, Leo, Taurus, Earth, Jupiter,🆘️💁‍♂️💀⛓️

👤Your person's energy: Wow okay so this person is pretty straight forward I'm getting, they may communicate with others online a lot.📱💬 They have a unique look about them.✨️ Something is coming through, they had a bit of an ego death in the past so they became less self-assured or confident in themselves. They are good at making a community for themselves. Prominent sign energies are Aquarius, Leo, Taurus, Sagittarius or Earth signs (Capricorn, Taurus, Virgo) oh and Pisces too. Museums may be significant, also this person may work at in art gallery for someone in pile 4 haha.♥️ I think this person spends too much time online or involved in charity work, they don't speak up their own opinions much I'm hearing.💭🚫 They may change their hair often or they got a hairstyle in the past that significantly changed their whole vibe lol. They have online friends that may not be out for their best interest, I feel like they're kinda on display for everyone to see and pick apart.🥺😡 Maybe your person has some opinions that the people around them don't agree with, that could be why they learned to keep it to themselves and go along with everyone.😭🐑 Their self-expression has been somewhat locked away because don't want to be criticized by others.🔒 I think your person is an out of the box thinker, so they have some unconventional ideas.💡❤️ I don't think they're very self confident, or they have lost that over time. They are in a sort of repressed energy, like they have no freedom for themselves. I'm hearing "stopped being honest" omg maybe they gave up on sharing their opinions🤯 Some of you are at a long distance from this person, maybe you reach from online. Pile 4 your person needs saving omg they are around a lot of toxic people😥☣️

🌹How they wanna please you: Competition, Equality, Work place, Let go, Song, Water, 11th house, 9th house, 3rd house, Capricorn, 🍑🪐🧎‍♂️📸 Ahh okay🙈😍 Now I'm definitely getting a vibe that for some in this pile, this is a friend or they want to be friends with you. They want to get up to your level in order to please you, maybe they feel unworthy or unequal to you in some way😢💔 I can see them wanting to make a playlist for you to please you🤭🎼 They want to achieve success for you, aww like they want to be admirable to you. I'm getting this person could be younger than you a bit, or they just feel like you're superior to them in some way.🏆👑 I am getting similar vibes to pile 2 in terms of their sweet yet competitive approach towards you guys, this person is really emotional over winning you over. Maybe you have many friends and they feel insignificant to you.😰 They really want to rid of the toxic people around them in order to please you, like no gossip or anything.✋️❌️ They may want a healthy circle of friends to be associated with, because they feel like the people around them are ruining their image to you.🥺 Now they want to put in the extra work for you. Probably learn from word of mouth exactly what pleases you, asking your friends or coworkers what you like/dislike. They want to please you spontaneously, like a big surprise. This could be getting you alone and surprising you with a kiss!🥰 They want to please you in that way, also if they could go hard on your 🍑 if you know what I mean😈❤️‍🔥 They would want to use their hands to please you, and grabbing you there. Restraining you or getting you on your knees if you feel good from it.🥵 They may also want to send you photos of them, maybe of their 🍑??😂 Lol they would try anything weird or crazy if you asked them to, because they want to please you and see what works. Aww they want to make you smile and take photos of you like that.😁 They also want to travel with you, maybe taking you to higher places.🗻❤️ They would wanna give you kisses and your thighs/hands💋 I'm seeing they're on their knees for you omg. I could see them writing you a song and sending it to you out of nowhere like "hey I wrote u a song :)" Lol so cute, I can also see them wanting to so all the fun things you need a best friend for.🥺💖 Like they are down to be like a friend to you if you need that, and if you need a good partner? They can do that to.😏❤️‍🔥 I can see them wanting to grab your thigh and push your legs apart too...😳🥵

💌Messages from your person: Your laugh is contagious, You have no idea, Anything for you, Can't you see? Believe me, It's me or them, We are one, You're not interested in anyone right? (Ohh they are competitive over you🤭❤️) Extra cards: Siblings, Intuition, Prove, Over, Bad habit, Jupiter, Saturn, Pisces, 7th house, 2nd house (They also want to provide for you like buying you nice things and committing to this relationship🥺💋)

Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️‍🔥

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the cherry emoji~🍒 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading✨️🤭❤️

Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸

Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3

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chevyslate158 · 6 months ago

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Coriolanus Snow x FemReader: Halls Of Obsession 18+

A/n: Hey everyone! I hope you enjoy this dark and twisted story! 😈 Just a heads up, this is 18+ content, so please proceed with caution! ⚠️ I want to make it clear that I do not condone the relationships or behaviour depicted here. It's purely for fictional exploration especially seeing as Coriolanus Snow is typically a darker character. 🙅‍♀️💭

Also, if you're into more intense, mature themes, feel free to check out my other series, Pleasantries of 'Love' (Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader) 💖, with Chapter 1 just uploaded yesterday! ✨ And if you're into the Hunger Games AU, don’t miss Threads of Freedom (My OC Archer Brown x Fem! Reader, 15th Hunger Games AU) featuring a Billy the Kid (Tom Blyth) face claim!

Thanks for reading, and happy indulging in these darker stories! 💋 Word Count: 2.8K Warnings: Stalking, obsession, control, mental manipulation, emotional manipulation, gender dynamics, misogyny, unhealthy relationships, delusional Coriolanus, gaslighting, dark themes and power imbalance

Coriolanus leaned casually against the wall near the entrance of the university hall, his posture relaxed but his mind sharp, taking in every detail of the bustling crowd. Students hurried past him, eager to escape the confines of their lectures and dive into the freedom of the evening. Yet, amidst the sea of faces, his eyes sought only one. Her.

She emerged from the crowd like a ripple breaking the surface of still water, her presence commanding his undivided attention. The sunlight streaming through the tall windows caught the soft strands of her hair, turning them into a golden halo. She moved with an unassuming grace, her focus seemingly elsewhere, clutching a notebook to her chest as if it were a shield.

Coriolanus’s lips curled into a faint smirk as he watched her pause to greet a classmate, her laughter light but fleeting, like a secret carried away by the wind. His fingers flexed against the wall, the urge to step forward warring with his disciplined restraint. Patience, he reminded himself, savouring the game he had constructed in his mind. He would make his move when the moment was perfect when she least expected it. For now, he was content to remain a shadow, watching, waiting, and unravelling the threads of her world piece by piece.

The girl he had been quietly observing for months. No, not months almost a year. It had started innocently enough, or so he told himself. He had noticed her during the first week of classes, her presence standing out in a sea of anonymity. She had been sitting in the back of a lecture hall, scribbling furiously in her notebook while everyone else seemed content to zone out. There was something about her intensity, the way she seemed so absorbed in her own world, that drew his gaze again and again. By the end of that week, he knew her schedule by heart.

At first, Coriolanus had convinced himself it was nothing more than curiosity. The first time he noticed her was during a philosophy lecture. She had slipped into the room quietly, her posture rigid yet unassuming, as though she wished to blend into the background. But she couldn’t. Not to him. There was something magnetic about her serious, reserved, and entirely indifferent to the exhausting theatrics of campus life. While others vied for attention and alliances, she seemed untouchable, consumed by a world far removed from the trivialities of their peers.

That moment lingered in his mind far longer than it should have. He found himself searching for her in every lecture, catching glimpses of her bent over her notes, her pen moving with precision. There was a stark elegance in her solitude, a defiance in her silence. It was intoxicating.

Weeks turned into months, and that initial spark of intrigue began to fester. Curiosity became a fixation. He would loiter outside her lecture halls, under the guise of coincidence, timing his movements so that they would pass in the corridors or share fleeting moments in the library. He began to rearrange his schedule, reworking every detail of his routine to ensure their paths would cross—no matter how insignificant the interaction.

It became a ritual, one he both dreaded and relished. His heart would race at the mere sight of her, a mix of longing and frustration knotting in his chest. The more she remained oblivious to his growing obsession, the more insatiable it became. Coriolanus found himself consumed by the idea of her, his thoughts dominated by questions he couldn’t shake. Why didn’t she notice him? Why was she so immune to the charms and status that others bent over backward to acknowledge?

And as his fascination deepened, so too did his desire for control. She was no longer just a girl; she was a puzzle, a challenge, and in his mind, something meant to belong to him.

Coriolanus couldn’t stop himself. He memorised her patterns down to the second with an almost obsessive precision the way she tilted her head when lost in thought, the quiet hum she made under her breath when she believed no one was listening, the books she checked out from the library, and even the routes she took when walking home. Each detail was like a puzzle piece, slowly forming a picture that only he was privy to.

But it wasn’t enough. Observing her from afar no longer satisfied the gnawing need within him. He wanted more. Needed more. To know the thoughts that danced behind her quiet demeanour, to hear her voice directed at him not in passing politeness but in something personal, something real.

The rational part of him whispered that this fixation was dangerous, but he silenced it with ease. She had become his constant, his obsession. The world around him blurred when she was near, her presence sharpening every sense to an almost unbearable intensity.

It was no longer about curiosity or fascination. It was about possession. She didn’t know it yet, but she was his. She belonged to him in a way that no one else ever could. And soon, he would make her understand that too.

Today, as on every other day, she carried a precarious stack of books in her arms, her steps purposeful and unwavering. She exuded a quiet determination that fascinated him. Even from this distance, Coriolanus could anticipate her route to the library, as always.

His girl was so predictable, yet he found comfort in that. She was like clockwork, her movements steady and deliberate, her routines as unchanging as the sunrise. He couldn’t help but admire her devotion to her studies, and the way she treated her academic pursuits with the same reverence others reserved for religion. It wasn’t just intelligence it was passion, a drive that set her apart from everyone else.

Look at her, he thought, a faint smile curling his lips as he leaned casually against a column. My smart little girl, always so diligent, so focused. She doesn’t even realise how special she is, how different she is from the rest of them.

Her obliviousness to her own allure only made her more captivating. She didn’t try to draw attention to herself, yet she held it effortlessly. The way her brow furrowed in thought, the way she hugged those books as though they were her armour against the world it all made him want to pull her closer, to strip away her defences and show her that she didn’t need to carry everything on her own.

He pushed off the wall with an almost lazy grace, slipping seamlessly into the flow of students. To anyone watching, he would seem like just another young man heading toward his next task. But every step he took was deliberate, calculated. He kept a discreet distance, his sharp mind tracking her every movement without drawing attention to himself.

As she turned the corner, her destination clear, Coriolanus quickened his pace. The library loomed ahead, its heavy oak doors propped open for the last wave of students filtering in. He adjusted his stride, ensuring he reached the entrance just moments before her. The timing was everything, and he had perfected this act of apparent coincidence.

When he arrived at the library door, he paused, hand resting lightly on the wood, as though debating whether to enter. In truth, he was waiting. He could hear her measured footsteps drawing nearer, the faint shuffle of pages as she adjusted her books. A flicker of satisfaction crossed his face, a predatory smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

She doesn’t even know I’m here, he thought, the thrill of the moment making his pulse quicken. Just a little closer, my girl. So close now.

He could almost feel her presence before she emerged into view her scent, faint but distinct, the quiet hum of her energy that seemed to surround her like a shield. He waited, eyes fixed on the door, anticipating the exact second she would appear. When she finally rounded the corner, there was a brief moment where their gazes could have collided. But she didn’t look up.

She approached, her attention focused straight ahead, her gaze unwavering. Coriolanus moved, pulling the door open with a practised ease that felt almost natural. He stepped aside, his hand lingering on the door as he spoke, his voice smooth and refined.

“After you,” he said, a trace of a smile curling his lips.

Startled by the unexpected gesture, she glanced up, her expression softening into polite gratitude. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice quiet yet melodic, like the soft trill of a bird at dawn. Her gaze lingered on him for only a moment fleeting, yet enough to send a rush of heat coursing through his veins. And then she was gone, slipping past him and disappearing into the tranquil, book-lined expanse of the library.

Coriolanus’s pulse quickened, though his face remained composed, the perfect mask of indifference. Inside, however, a storm brewed. Her voice echoed in his mind, the simple thank you reverberating with an intimacy that left him dizzy. He followed her inside, his fingers brushing the edge of the doorframe, savouring the faint warmth it seemed to hold from her touch as he let it swing shut behind him.

The library was hushed, serene a cathedral of knowledge but to Coriolanus, it became something else entirely: a sanctuary for his obsession. Every creak of the floorboards beneath his polished boots felt like a ripple in the stillness, his every step calculated as he trailed her. Not too close. Not yet. She moved with purpose, her figure weaving through the maze of shelves like a shadow, each movement deliberate yet effortlessly graceful.

When she finally settled at a table near the large bay window, he stopped in the shadows of a nearby aisle, his gaze sharpening as it latched onto her. She placed her books in a neat stack, the delicate arc of her wrist as she adjusted them nearly unbearable to watch. Her brow furrowed slightly as she began to read, her lips parting just enough to hint at the silent rhythm of her thoughts.

He swallowed hard, his mouth dry. There was something maddeningly intimate about seeing her like this unguarded, immersed, unaware of the effect she had on him. The light streaming through the window cast her in soft hues, making her appear almost ethereal, and Coriolanus’s mind began to wander.

What would it feel like to shatter her calm? To lean in close enough that she had no choice but to notice him, to look up at him with those wide, unsuspecting eyes? Would her voice tremble if he spoke her name, the way it trembled in his imagination when he was alone late at night? Would her lips part with that same subtle allure if he dared to touch her hand, her face, her—

He clenched his jaw, tearing himself from the spiral of forbidden thoughts with an exhale that barely masked his frustration. She was so close, and yet impossibly out of reach, a cruel tease to the hunger he hadn’t yet dared to confront. For now, he would remain in the background, watching, waiting, letting his desires simmer beneath the surface. But in the dark corners of his mind, a vow was forming: one day, she wouldn’t be able to ignore him. One day, she would be his.

He selected a table nearby close enough to observe, far enough to avoid suspicion. Sliding into the chair with careful precision, he arranged a few books in front of him, meaningless tomes chosen at random, mere props for his façade. The titles didn’t matter. What mattered was his vantage point. From here, he could watch her uninterrupted, unnoticed, and unchallenged.

The sunlight streaming through the window painted her in an ethereal glow, bathing her features in soft, golden light. It was as if the universe conspired to highlight her beauty solely for him. She reached up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her slender fingers moving with effortless grace. Her focus remained entirely on the book in front of her, her lips faintly parted in concentration.

Coriolanus’s gaze lingered, hungry yet controlled, devouring every detail of her quiet movements. The curve of her neck as she leaned forward, the delicate furrow of her brow it all felt impossibly intimate, as though she were sharing secrets with him alone.

In his mind, she wasn’t just a girl. She was the girl. Perfect. Untouchable. The embodiment of everything he yearned for but could not yet claim. She wasn’t just beautiful; she was an ideal, a symbol of something greater. When he allowed his imagination to wander something he often indulged in when it came to her he could see it all so clearly.

She would sit beside him one day, poised and dignified, her quiet grace commanding a room in ways no words ever could. She would be the First Lady of Panem, the perfect complement to his rule. Together, they would project an image of power and unity, a vision of perfection that the Capitol would idolise and the districts would fear. He allowed himself to dream of her walking at his side in the Capitol’s grand halls, her every movement an echo of his control. Our control, he corrected himself.

And when the time came, she would bear his children his heirs perfect extensions of their union. She would be a doting housewife, tending to their home, and raising their children with all the love and care he knew she had in her. In the public eye, she would be the epitome of grace and motherhood, always poised, always revered. Yet she would still remain vital, her presence indispensable as his First Lady, supporting him, shaping the image of Panem's future with every carefully crafted word and action.

Why would she need anything else? Coriolanus thought darkly, the edges of his mind sharpening as the fantasy took root. Why would she want a career, a life outside their shared vision, when her true purpose would lie at his side, nurturing their family and cementing their legacy? Her talents and her intellect could be better put to use in other, more appropriate ways. A career would only distract her from what truly mattered: him, their children, their future.

No, he would make sure she saw it that way. He would make her see it that way. After all, who else could offer her a life so perfectly tailored to her? She won’t need to dream of anything else, he mused with a quiet, satisfied smile. Her place is here, with me, where she belongs.

And yet, here she was, utterly oblivious to his existence. The thought stung, a sharp reminder of how far he still had to go. But it didn’t matter. She would notice him eventually. He would make sure of it.

She’s mine, he thought, his fingers curling around the spine of a book he had no intention of reading. She just doesn’t know it yet.

His fingers brushed the cover of the book in front of him, though he made no move to open it. His attention remained fixed, darting between her and the room around them assessing the space, the people, the exits. Each detail was catalogued each movement of the room mapped in his mind. Nothing was left to chance. This was no fleeting infatuation it was an obsession, controlled, deliberate, calculated.

He knew more about her than he should. Her favourite coffee order, the way she always sat in the quiet corners of campus, lost in her thoughts, with the world completely unaware of her presence. And there was the subtle, almost imperceptible habit she had twirling her pen between her fingers when her mind wandered, a small gesture that somehow made him feel as if she were revealing a part of herself to him. Even though she had never spoken more than a few words to him, these details felt like secrets, intimately shared, as if they were his own.

The minutes stretched into hours, the soft hum of the library wrapping them both in a cocoon of stillness. To her, it was an ordinary afternoon another in a long line of study sessions and quiet solitude. But to Coriolanus, it was an intricately choreographed performance. Each movement, each glance, each breath was a part of his game, a carefully measured step toward embedding himself into her world.

He didn’t need to speak to her not yet. The thrill, the power, lay in the waiting, in the quiet observation, in learning everything there was to know before making his move. One day, she would look up and realise he had always been there, patiently building the foundation of something inevitable.

His lips twitched into a fleeting, almost imperceptible smile as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving her. This was just the beginning. Soon, the pieces would fall into place, and when the time came, she would have no choice but to fall in line. She was his. He had already decided. This was only the beginning.

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kairukitsuneo · 7 months ago

Note

Hello, I hope I'm not bothering, but... uh...

Could you make harem-themed drawings like Sentinel?

who feels like he has enough characters he can be paired with, check out:

Not to mention others, why is my cute idiot shipable?!

Well anyway, only if you like the idea, but I loved your way of drawing, and you added a new ship to my Sentinel x all list💖

Everyone wants a piece of Sentinel🫣🫢😈

========

Thank you for sending the ask! Honestly YES Sentinel is so shipable!!!!!!

I love to see Sentinel ended up in places he didn't expect! So far these characters are the one ship with Sentinel which I find acceptable!

Thank you for enjoying my drawings too!💕😍🙏

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sweetheartjourney · 3 months ago

Text

Your Sweet Little Devil Angel✨️ 🐞 🌸 🦋 🌺 🤍 💖 🏵 🌻

Hello and welcome to my little forest✨️ I don't have a proper scene name yet so you can abbreviate my name as you wish until I figure something out. I am polyamorous and demisecual. My pronouns are she/her. I enjoy playing video games on my down time and watching anime. I also love to roller skate! My little space is both sexual and nonsexual, depending on my mood. My little space consist of coloring, playing with toys, arts & crafts, and watching kid shows!

My age range fluctuates between infant, toddler, and middle space.

I'm big into humiliation and being put in my place. I'm also a brat so don't think I'm going down without a fight😈

I've been dealing with incontinence all of my life and tho I don't mind sharing my thoughts and experiences I do ask that you be respectful with your approach on the topic. Comments like "you're lucky for being Incontinent" will immediately be blocked.

Other things I will not tolerate:

Minors are not allowed. This is an 18+ account!

Anti-Kink

Bigots

Homophobia/Transphobia

Racist

Trump dummies (MAGATS)

I'm an open book for the most part so feel free to ask what you want and I hope you enjoy my content✨️🤍

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stellaspectral · 26 days ago

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Okay I have two requests but I’m going to write them separately like you asked in the rules! This one is a 2012 Raph x Reader.

Reader is April's best friend and met the turtles at the same time as her. Reader had immediately established a close friendship with Raph thanks to the fact that, despite being shy, sensitive and a nerd/bookworm, she has always had a lot of physical strength and has never been afraid to kick Raph's ass. Raph has always had a little crush on her but she has always been romantically interested in Leonardo (unrequited) and Raph knew that because she has always confided in him and April (Raph is part of the girls club idc ahah). Later Raph fell in love at first sight and began his relationship with Mona Lisa, just when Reader was forgetting Leo and had started to fall in love with him (Reader can’t catch a break she’s just like me fr). Fast forward a few years: Raph broke up with Mona a few months ago (you decide why) and just when he decides that maybe romantic relationships aren't for him and he's better off single, he finds out (while accidentally overhearing a conversation between Reader and April) that she had feelings for him in the past that she had put aside only because he had found someone else and she's not a homewrecker (being a girls girl is important), but that now she's getting her hopes up that maybe something could happen between them but she doesn't know if it's actually possible because maybe they just weren’t mean to be. Raph is completely at a loss as to how to take this information and for now he decides to ignore it and pretend he never heard that. But now his old feelings for Reader resurface😈. I'll let you decide how the story ends! (Sorry if my English is bad, it’s my second language. I hope everything is understandable!)

A/N: 2012 Raph needs more love, and I’m here to deliver. 🫡

Enjoy! 💖

Worth the Mess (angst)

❤️ 2012 Raphael/Female Reader ❤️

CWs: Angst, discussion of past relationships/breakups, mutual pining, eavesdropping scene, confessions, first kiss. All characters are aged-up.

The green couch in the lair protests as you shift, folding your legs beneath you.

The familiar sounds of Mikey mashing buttons on a video game controller and Donnie tapping away at a keyboard form the usual background noise. Your best friend April is beside you, scrolling through something on her phone, occasionally showing you a meme that earns a quiet chuckle. Across the room, Leo practices katas, his movements fluid and focused.

And then there’s Raph.

He’s in the dojo, punching a training dummy with a ferocity that makes the worn canvas groan. You think of him for a moment and grin; it’s been a while since the two of you properly sparred. Even though you’re happiest curled up with a book, you’ve always been deceptively strong. And you were never, ever intimidated by Raph’s bluster.

It’s been years since that first chaotic night you and April tumbled into their lives. And the first time Raph tried his usual tough-guy routine on you, you’d instinctively blocked his mock-lunge and used his momentum to flip him onto his shell. The stunned silence, followed by Donnie and Mikey’s howling laughter, had cemented your place in the group.

You and Raph clicked in a way that surprised everyone. He saw past the quiet bookworm facade, and you saw past his anger to the fiercely loyal, protective turtle underneath. You became his go-to sparring partner, someone who could actually give him a challenge without him having to hold back too much.

He also, surprisingly, became a confidant. Like April, you told him things. Which was why he knew, almost from day one, about your massive, hopeless crush on Leo. You’d spilled your guts to them countless times, dissecting every fleeting glance and interaction. Hoping for something that wasn’t there.

Raph listened patiently, offering gruff but surprisingly insightful advice and occasionally threatening to smack Leo upside the head for being oblivious—even as a brief flicker of something else resided in his own eyes when he looked at you. You noticed it sometimes but always brushed it off, your heart stubbornly set on the blue-masked leader.

Then came Mona Lisa. Y’Gythgba. Fierce, strong—and Raph fell hard. One glance at the Salamandrian warrior, and he was utterly smitten. You saw the way he looked at her, the genuine, unguarded joy in his eyes. You watched him navigate the giddy highs and awkward lows of his first proper relationship. And wouldn’t you know it? That was exactly when the fog around your Leo obsession finally lifted.

You began to see Leo clearly: a dedicated leader, a good friend. But not the romantic hero you’d built up in your head. And as those feelings faded, you started noticing Raph differently. The way he’d check if you were okay after a rough patrol, the low rumble of his chuckle when you made a dry joke, the fierce protectiveness in his eyes that wasn’t just for his brothers anymore. A new, tentative warmth bloomed in your chest, aimed squarely at the red-masked turtle.

Timing, you thought bitterly back then, was decidedly not on your side.

But you were nothing if not loyal. Seeing Raph happy was paramount. So you buried those burgeoning feelings deep, plastered on a supportive smile, and became Mona’s friend, too. You championed their happiness. Compartmentalized. It hurt, a dull ache behind your ribs, but it was the right thing to do.

Years pass. Things change. Raph and Mona called it quits a few months back. The official story was amicable. Different worlds, different paths, the usual long-distance relationship struggles amplified by intergalactic distances. You suspect it was more complicated, but Raph hasn’t elaborated, and you haven’t pushed.

Raph’s been quieter, withdrawn, throwing himself into training more. He’d muttered something to Donnie last week about being done with relationships altogether, that maybe he was just better off alone. He sounded so cynical, so bruised. Your heart had clenched at that. Because, inconveniently, those feelings you buried years ago? They’re still there, stirring beneath the surface now that he’s single again.

Which brings you to now.

It’s late. Leo, Donnie, and Mikey have retired to their rooms for the night. April returns from the kitchen and hands you a mug of tea before sitting back down next to you.

“Seriously,” you say, keeping your voice low. “I just feel like an idiot. All that time pining over Leo, and then when I finally see sense, Raph’s head over heels for Mona.”

“Hey now, you’re not an idiot,” April says sympathetically, squeezing your shoulder. “You couldn’t help when your feelings shifted.”

“And now … now he’s single, and I’m thinking maybe—just maybe …” You trail off, shaking your head. “Part of me, this stupid hopeful part, is wondering if there could be a chance now. But then he says stuff like he’s better off alone, and I just … I don’t know. Maybe it’s not meant to be.”

Neither of you notices the figure frozen just outside the main living area, near the entrance to the dojo. Raph was heading towards the kitchen for water when your lowered voices caught his attention. He’d stopped, hidden by the archway, not meaning to eavesdrop, but then the words hit him.

“I was so hung up on his brother that maybe I missed the window entirely. And then he found someone else. I stepped back because he was happy.” You sigh, tracing a pattern on the couch fabric. “It all felt like bad timing.”

His breath catches in his throat. You had feelings for him? Back then? After Leo? The friend he confided in, the one he’d had that stupid, persistent crush on before Mona swept him off his feet?

He remembers how you were always there, pushing him in the dojo, listening to his rants, never flinching from his temper. Remembers the pang he felt sometimes when you talked about Leo, a pang he’d initially dismissed as protective friendship. How supportive you were of him and Mona, never showing a hint of anything else.

Because you were being a good friend.

Because you had feelings you were hiding for his sake.

And now, you’re hoping again—while he’s busy convincing himself he’s destined to be alone?

His mind reels. This changes … everything. And nothing. He can’t process it. It’s too much, too complicated, layered over years of history and missed signals and bad timing. His first instinct is to run, pretend he heard nothing. Shove it away.

He forces his feet to move, backing away from the archway and retreating towards the dojo, his thirst forgotten. He needs to hit something. Hard.

“You don’t know unless you …” April starts, but trails off as she spots a shadow in the corner of her eye. “Raph?”

Your heart pounds, a heat rising to your cheeks as you see him. He’s frozen mid-step, eyes wide, fixed somewhere between you and the opposite wall. Did he hear everything?! April gives you an ‘oh crap’ look. And you—you just want the floor to swallow you whole.

Raph’s expression shifts. He replaces the shock with a carefully constructed neutrality, maybe a little too quickly. He clears his throat, the sound unnaturally loud in the quiet room. “Uh … I was just getting some water,” he mumbles, turning abruptly without looking at either of you.

“O-oh, okay,” you manage, your voice barely a squeak as he disappears back into the dojo.

He didn’t hear. He couldn’t have. You try to convince yourself, clinging to the desperate hope that maybe he only caught the tail end. You stare at the entrance to the dojo, your face burning. Your mug of tea feels suddenly heavy in your trembling hands.

“Okay,” April says, “deep breaths. Maybe he didn’t hear.”

“Maybe?” you echo, the word strangled. “April, he was standing right there. How long was he there? Did you see when he stopped?”

“No, I just caught the movement when he turned to leave,” she admits, chewing on her lower lip. “But he looked … startled?”

“Right,” you say, clinging to that shred of hope even though your stomach is doing backflips. “Maybe he just heard us talking and didn’t want to interrupt. Or maybe he heard the last part, about bad timing, and thought we were talking about … I don’t know, a TV show?” The rationalization sounds weak even to your own ears.

“Exactly!” She tries to sound convincing. “He probably zoned out after training, anyway. You know how he gets.”

You nod numbly, wanting desperately to believe her. But the way Raph’s expression had instantly changed, that too-quick shift to neutrality—it felt like a defense mechanism kicking in. The kind he used when he was blindsided or feeling vulnerable. You know that look. You’ve seen it countless times over the years.

Meanwhile, in the dojo, Raph slams his fist into the training dummy. The canvas rips slightly under the force, sand trickling onto the mat. He ignores it, hitting it again and again.

You had feelings for him?

The thought bounces around his skull, colliding with years of memories re-contextualized in a blinding flash.

Because you were being a good friend.

Because you were hiding feelings.

He’d been so wrapped up in his own perceived heartbreak over Mona, so quick to wallow in self-pity and declare himself doomed to solitude, that he hadn’t seen it. Hadn’t even considered the possibility. He thought he was the one nursing a secret, hopeless crush back then, before Mona. He thought he’d successfully buried it, moved on. And now …

Now she’s hoping again.

Just as he’d convinced himself romance was off the table for good. Just as he was starting to genuinely believe he was better off alone, that he wasn’t cut out for it.

He stops punching, leaning his forehead against the battered dummy, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His knuckles ache. His head aches. He feels like an idiot. A colossal, shell-plated idiot. For missing it back then. For being oblivious now.

You were always loyal. To a fault. Loyal enough to bury your own feelings for his sake. The realization hits him with the force of another punch, this one internal. He’d confided in you about Mona, leaned on you, oblivious to the cost.

And that flicker he used to see in his own eyes when he looked at you? He hadn’t imagined it. It had been real. An ember he’d deliberately snuffed out when Mona arrived, convinced you only saw him as a friend, a surrogate brother.

He straightens up, rubbing his temples. What now? Keep pretending he didn’t hear? That would be the easiest thing. The cowardly thing. Maintain the status quo. But could he? Knowing what he knows now?

He glances towards the dojo entrance, towards the common area where you still sit with April. He’s not sure what to do. His instinct is still to retreat, to protect himself from more potential hurt. But another part of him, a part he thought had died down with his cynicism, feels a flicker of something else.

Trepidation?

Hope?

“He looked like he’d seen a ghost,” you murmur, setting the mug down before you spill it. Then you bury your face in your hands. “Oh god, this is a nightmare. How can I even look at him now?”

“Whatever he heard,” April says softly, rubbing your back, “Raph won’t think anything less of you. Don’t worry.”

“I know he won’t,” you sigh, lifting your head from your hands as you hear the rhythmic thudding sound starting up in the dojo again. “But knowing he might know—it changes things. And how can it be the same if he knows I’m sitting here, hoping for …” You can’t even finish the sentence.

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be the same?” April suggests gently. “Maybe it could be … different?”

You shake your head, a fresh wave of self-deprecation washing over you. “Right. Different like ‘awkward and painful’. He just broke up with Mona. He’s talking about being alone forever. The last thing he needs is me suddenly looking at him with heart eyes.” You sigh. “Best-case scenario, he didn’t hear. Second best, he heard, and he’ll pretend he didn’t. For both our sakes.”

“And worst case?” she prompts.

“Worst case he heard, and now everything’s going to be weird, and I’ve just piled more emotional baggage onto him when he’s already dealing with his own stuff.” You close your eyes, trying to calm yourself. “I should probably just go home. Pretend this conversation never happened.”

But even as you say it, you know you can’t. You can’t just leave him in there, potentially reeling from what he overheard, beating up a sack of canvas because he doesn’t know how else to process it. He retreated there, just like he always does when things get too complicated. And you—

—you always follow.

“No,” you say after a few moments, surprising yourself with the sudden firmness in your voice as you stand. “I can’t just hide. That’s not fair to him.” You glance at April, trying to project a confidence you definitely don’t feel. “I’m going to go check on him.”

April raises an eyebrow but nods slowly. “Okay. You sure? Want me to come?”

“No,” you blurt. “This is … this is something I need to do. Alone.” You take a deep breath, squaring your shoulders. “Wish me luck?”

“Always,” she says, giving you an encouraging squeeze on the arm.

With leaden feet, you walk towards the dojo. The rhythmic impacts grow louder, punctuated by Raph’s harsh exhales. You hesitate at the entrance, the same spot where he’d been standing just minutes before. Peeking around the corner, you see him.

He’s attacking the dummy with renewed, almost desperate, intensity. His shell is turned slightly towards you, but he hasn’t registered your presence yet. Tightly coiled muscles strain beneath his gleaming skin in the dim light. Each punch, each kick, lands with a force that seems less like training and more like punishment—directed either at the dummy or himself.

You step fully into the dojo, the soft padding beneath your feet silencing your approach until you’re only a few yards away. “Hey,” you breathe, your voice barely carrying over the sound of his next blow.

Raph freezes mid-strike, his fist hovering inches from the dummy. He stays like that for a beat, shoulders hunched, head down, before slowly lowering his arm. He doesn’t turn around immediately. “Thought you left,” he finally rumbles, his voice rough, still facing away from you.

“Not yet,” you reply, keeping your tone even. Neutral. You try to ignore the frantic fluttering in your chest. “Heard you … uh … training.”

He finally turns, but he doesn’t meet your eyes, his gaze fixing somewhere over your shoulder. His expression is carefully blank, that neutral mask back in place, but you can see the tension in his jaw, the slight flicker in his eyes that betrays the turmoil underneath. He looks cornered.

“Yeah,” he says curtly. “Just blowin’ off steam.”

There’s a strained silence. The training dummy stands between you like a silent, battered witness. You shift your weight, clasping your hands behind your back.

“That dummy looks like it owes you money,” you attempt, trying for a light tone, the kind you used to tease him out of a mood. It falls flat.

He grunts, finally flicking his gaze towards you, then away again. “Somethin’ like that.”

His curtness isn’t unusual when he’s brooding, but this feels different. Sharper. More defensive. He’s deliberately keeping distance, putting up walls you haven’t seen directed at you in a long time. The knot of anxiety in your stomach tightens.

He definitely heard.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly, taking a hesitant step closer. “You seemed upset earlier. And you’ve been hitting this thing pretty hard.”

Raph’s hands fall to his sides, clenching into fists as his gaze drops to the floor. “I’m fine.”

“Is it about Mona?” you press gently, unable to stop yourself. “Or just … things?”

He flinches almost imperceptibly at the mention of her name. His head snaps up, and this time, his gaze meets yours directly. There’s a storm in his eyes—confusion, hurt, maybe even a flicker of anger, though not aimed at you. It’s the look of someone completely blindsided, trying desperately to regain control.

“It’s nothin’,” he bites out, the words clipped. “Just… stuff. Don’t worry about it.” He turns back towards the dummy, presenting you with his shell again. A clear dismissal.

“Raph.” Your voice is firmer now, imbued with years of refusing to be shut out by this exact maneuver. “You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever it is.” You pause, your heart hammering against your ribs. Do you dare continue? “I heard what you said to Donnie the other day—about being better off alone.”

He stiffens. He doesn’t turn, but you see his hand grip the edge of the dummy’s stand, his knuckles white. “Yeah, well,” he mutters, his voice low and rough. “Maybe I am.”

The finality in his tone, the sheer weariness, hits you harder than any punch he could throw. Your heart breaks for him. “You don’t really believe that,” you whisper, mostly to yourself. But he hears it.

He whips around, his carefully constructed neutrality finally cracking. “And what if I do?” he challenges, his voice rising slightly, frustration and something raw lacing his tone. “Maybe some people just ain’t cut out for all that stuff. Maybe trying just makes everything messier!”

He locks his eyes on yours now, searching, demanding. It feels like he’s not just talking about himself anymore. Is he asking you? Accusing you? Warning you off? Your breath hitches. The confession hangs unspoken between you, a tangible thing in the air. He knows.

He has to know.

You stare back at him, unable to look away, caught in the intensity of his gaze. All your carefully planned words, your gentle probing, evaporate. There’s only the raw truth simmering just below the surface, threatening to boil over. The years of friendship, the hidden feelings—it’s all right here, compressed into this single, loaded moment.

“Maybe,” you manage, your voice trembling slightly, “maybe sometimes the timing is just … really, really bad.”

His expression flickers again. The anger drains away, replaced by something harder to read. Resignation? Regret? He holds your gaze for another long moment, the silence stretching taut. Then he breaks eye contact, scrubbing a hand over his face with a heavy sigh. “You, uh, wanna go a few rounds?”

You nod, trying to keep your expression neutral, trying to pretend your stomach isn’t doing terrified flip-flops. He didn’t hear, you tell yourself again, even as the way he’s looking at you screams otherwise as he settles into his stance.

You take your usual sparring position opposite him, feet planted, hands ready. Normally, the friendly challenge would override any lingering awkwardness. But today, the air hangs heavy. The fight is about to begin—and neither of you knows who’s going to win.

“Ready?” he grunts, flexing his fingers. His voice is carefully neutral, maybe too neutral.

You nod, swallowing hard. “Ready.”

You circle each other, years of practice guiding your muscles. You feint left, jab right. Standard opening. Raph blocks easily, but there’s a hesitation you rarely see, a split-second delay before his forearm comes up. Odd. And your own blocks feel clumsy, your usual confidence slightly shaken.

His gaze keeps finding yours, not in the assessing way of a sparring partner looking for tells. But in a searching, almost vulnerable way that makes your breath catch. You see the conflict warring behind his pupils. He lunges, and you parry, twisting away, using the momentum to attempt a leg sweep. Though he anticipates it, his eyes never leaving yours.

The rhythm picks up. Blocks become sharper, strikes land with more force, though neither of you is aiming to truly hurt the other. Sweat beads on your forehead, mirroring the sheen on his skin. Your breaths come faster, mingling in the space between you.

He breaks through your guard, hand darting out not with a weapon, but to grab your wrist. The contact sends a jolt straight through you. You react instantly, using his grip for leverage, twisting your body to throw him off balance. You expect him to resist, to counter with his usual brute force. Instead, he lets his balance shift, pulling you down with him.

You land awkwardly, your hand splayed on his plastron, his on your back holding you momentarily close. The world narrows to the space between your faces, mere inches apart. His breathing is heavy, rough. You can feel the steady thud of his heart beneath your palm, faster than it should be from exertion alone.

His eyes lock onto yours, fierce and vulnerable all at once. The guarded expression cracks. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” he rasps, the question rough, torn from him.

Your breath catches. “Say anything about what?” You try to wiggle away. But his grip tightens. Not painfully, but firmly, keeping you there.

“About before,” he clarifies, his voice low, strained. “When I was with Mona. You … you felt something for me then?”

Ice floods your veins, followed immediately by a burning wave of embarrassment. He heard. Your stomach plummets. “Raph … I …”

“Overheard you talking to April,” he admits bluntly, the muscle in his jaw tightening. He looks away for a second, a flicker of his own discomfort showing before his gaze snaps back to yours, demanding. “Is it true? You were into me? After Leo?”

There’s no point denying it. Trapped in his intense gaze, pinned beneath him on the dojo floor, the truth feels like the only option. You swallow hard, nodding mutely at first. Then, finding your voice, you whisper, “Yes.”

He closes his eyes for a moment, processing. When he opens them again, something else mixes within his gaze—something suspiciously like pain. “And you didn’t say anything? You just let me fall for Mona? Watched us?”

“What was I supposed to do?” Your voice gains a little strength, fueled by a surge of defensiveness. “Burst in and say, ‘Hey, sorry to interrupt your newfound happiness, but I just got over your brother and realized I like you now’? You were happy, Raph. Happier than I’d ever seen you. I wasn’t going to ruin that. I couldn’t.”

His expression softens. He understands putting others first, even when it hurts. He loosens his grip slightly, though he doesn’t let you go entirely. “And now?” he asks. “You’re … hopin’ again?”

The question hangs heavy between you. This is it. The point of no return.

You meet his gaze steadily, refusing to look away now. “Maybe,” you admit. “Yeah. A little. But then you were talking about being done with relationships, and I figured … maybe it’s just bad timing. Maybe we’re just not meant to be.”

A low growl rumbles in his chest, a sound of pure frustration. “Bad timing,” he repeats, bitterness lacing the words. “Story of my life.” He shifts, pushing himself up slightly, so he’s leaning over you, his hands now bracketing your shoulders. “You think I haven’t been thinkin’?” he demands, his voice regaining some of its usual force, but edged with an emotion you can’t quite place. “You think hearing that didn’t screw with my head?”

He leans closer, the intensity radiating from him making your heart pound against your ribs. “All those years ago,” he says, his voice dropping again, rough and intimate. “Before Mona. I … I liked you, y’know? But always thought you were too busy moonin’ over Leo.” He shakes his head, a self-deprecating huff escaping him. “Then Mona came along, and I thought … well, that was that.”

He pauses, his gaze searching yours, deep and unwavering. “Turns out,” he murmurs, his voice thick with resurfacing emotion, “maybe it wasn’t.”

His gaze drops to your lips for a fraction of a second before snapping back to your eyes. The air crackles, thick with years of unspoken feelings, missed chances, and the sudden, terrifying possibility of a future you’d both given up on. He reaches out, his hand hovering near your arm, hesitating.

“I’m still messed up from Mona,” he admits, his voice raw. “And I swore I wasn’t doing this again.” He looks lost, conflicted, but the way he’s looking at you— “But hearing what I heard, I can’t just ignore it. I can’t pretend things are the same.” He finally lets his fingers brush against your arm, a feather-light touch that sends sparks racing up your skin.

“Me neither,” you whisper.

His touch, tentative at first, grounds you even as it sends shockwaves through your system. The air around you practically vibrates. “I meant it when I said about being done. About not wanting the mess. But you … you’re makin’ things complicated.”

You manage a shaky laugh. “You think I’m making things complicated? Try being in my head for the past few years.”

He closes his eyes for a brief second, as if fighting a war within himself. When he opens them again, his other hand comes up, grasping your jaw. His touch is careful, reverent almost, despite the intensity burning in his eyes. You lean into it instinctively, your own hand rising to rest hesitantly against his plastron.

“Maybe …” he murmurs, his gaze fixed on your mouth. “Maybe some messes are worth making.”

And then there’s no more space between you.

He closes the distance, his mouth crashing down onto yours. It’s not gentle. Or tentative. It’s years of pent-up frustration, missed opportunities, unspoken longing, and overwhelming emotion pouring out. His grip tightens on your jaw, tilting your head back slightly as he deepens the kiss.

You gasp against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck. Pulling him closer, meeting his fervor with your own stored-up ache. It’s clumsy and raw, fueled by adrenaline and the shock of this finally happening. You feel the slight roughness of his skin, the solid muscle beneath your hands, the power he holds carefully in check.

It’s everything you secretly wondered about, everything you pushed down and denied yourself. It’s Raph, not just the friend, not just the sparring partner—but the turtle you fell for, the one whose happiness you prioritized over your own feelings.

And he’s kissing you like you’re the only thing that matters, like he’s been wanting to do this forever.

He groans, a low, guttural sound, pulling you tighter against him, molding your body to his. The world narrows to this single point of contact, the roar of blood in your ears, the frantic beat of two hearts hammering against each other. The entire world outside this moment fades away.

Finally, gasping for air, you break apart, though he keeps you close, his forehead pressed against yours. His breathing is ragged, and you can feel the tremors running through him. You’re trembling too, breathless and overwhelmed, your lips tingling, your mind reeling.

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his own wide and searching, mirroring the storm of emotions you feel swirling inside you. “Okay,” he breathes out. His gaze flicks down to your lips again, then back up. “So … that happened.”

“Yeah,” you manage. “It did.” You lift a hand tentatively, your fingers tracing the edge of his mask near his temple, a touch you wouldn’t have dared to initiate minutes ago. He doesn’t flinch; if anything, he leans infinitesimally closer.

“I, uh …” he starts, then stops, scrubbing a hand over his face again, clearly struggling for words. “Look, I meant what I said. I’m messed up. This is … complicated.”

“I know,” you whisper.

He slowly pushes himself up further, helping you sit up properly before rising to his feet and extending a hand down to you. You take it, his grip strong and warm, pulling you easily to your feet. You stand facing each other.

He doesn’t let go of your hand immediately, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “This ain’t gonna be easy to navigate. People are gonna notice somethin’s different.”

“Let them,” you say, surprising yourself with the firmness in your voice. You meet his gaze, holding it. The fear is still there, fluttering beneath the surface, but it’s overshadowed by something else—a fierce, fragile hope you thought you’d buried for good. “Raph, we’ve spent years tiptoeing. Hiding things. For each other. Maybe …” You trail off, taking a breath. “Maybe it’s time we stopped.”

Raph’s grip tightens on your hand as he exhales slowly, a long breath that seems to carry years of frustration with it. “Yeah,” he finally agrees, his voice low and gravelly as he smiles. “It’s about time we did.”

The confession, the kiss—it’s all out in the open now, impossible to ignore or stuff back into neat boxes. And whatever happens next, you know one thing for sure: ignoring this is no longer an option for either of you.

#my writing #filled requests #tmnt 2012 #tmnt raphael #tmnt raph #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2012 x reader #2012 raphael #2012 raph #2012 raphael x reader #2012 raph x reader #raphael x reader #raph x reader #tmnt raphael x reader #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt requests #not posted on ao3 #scheduled post

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theleechyskrunkly · 5 months ago

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101 FOLLOWERS!!!!

Guys I genuinely couldn’t be more thankful 🥹 I never thought I’d make it above even 50 followers, so to have reached a milestone of over 100 is just so mind blowing to me. I want to take all of you who have gotten me here, but especially my dearest mutuals, you guys are so amazing 😭🙏

I’d like to give my most special thanks to my irl who introduced me to Tumblr in the first place! @enigmatic-pers seriously THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR INTRODUCING ME TO THIS COMMUNITY PERS, YOURE THE BEST OF THE BEST!!!!

Now on to ALL my mutuals, because you guys are all so fucking amazing I can’t even begin to explain it!

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH @thehollowwriter !!!! YOUR WRITING AND OCS ARE SO AMAZING YOU DONT EVEN KNOW HOW MUCH I ADMIRE YOU 🫵🫵🫵💖💖💖

YOU JUST KEEP GETTING BETTER @xen-blank AND EVEN THOUGH WE DONT TALK MUCH I STILL LOVE SEEING YOU IN MY FEED, APPRECIATE YOU TONS ‼️‼️

YOU ARE GENUINELY ONE OF THE SWEETEST MUTUALS I HAVE @oya-oya-okay WE DONT TALK MUCH BUT I REALLY ENJOY SEEING YOU IN MY FEED AND WATCHING YOUR ART IMPROVE! SENDING SO MUCH LOVE 💕

YOU 🫵🫵🫵 @cyanide-latte YOU AND YOUR SILLIES BRING ME ETERNAL JOY!!! I hope your life is filled with wonderful things and I BEST be seeing more of those silly babies (OCs) of yours 💗💗💗

I EAT UP EVERYTHING YOU POST SO HARD @tixdixl LIKE YOU DONT EVEN KNOW??!?!?!!?! You are like the chill guy (gender neutral) of my mutuals 😭 your energy is so calm and nice to interact with, ADORE YOU AND YOURS OCS 💗💗💗

😈 @distant-velleity you… YOU… YOOUUUUUU GRRRAAAAAAHHHHHH My brother in arms when it comes to OC torture, peak interactions but your taste is questionable Kai 😄 (fishkisser 🫵/neg)

I sense your presence and wish I could marry you (we’ve divorced twice) @elenauaurs your art tips on drawing what I feel like are marvelous, you’re genuinely a very caring person and I LOVE LOVE LOVE you energy. Love you to bits Elena 🫶🫶🫶

We didn’t interact much, but you’re an oddball just like me fr, and for that I like you 😈🫵 @nahelenia

Bro. Bro. That are you made of Aurinelle? Literally my reference for everything. If someone asks about him? I show him that image. You are FUCKING AMAZING!!!!! FOREVER CREDITED YOURE SO FUCKING AWESOME 🔥🔥🔥 @ghostiidasponk

SHOOPYYYYYYY AAAARRRRGHHHHHH @boopshoops YOURE SO COOL AAAAGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! I actually adore your art and the effort you put into your OCs, you’re very cool and one of my favorite twst artists out there. Keep it up 💞💞💞‼️‼️

We haven’t interacted in a while, but your art is honestly so cute and funny!!!! I love your humor and you’re honestly great <3 @saikira999 HOPE YOU GET MORE RECOGNITION FOR YOUR SKILLS IN THE FUTURE <<33

*stares deep into your eyes with my scary brown orbs 👁️👁️* Well, well, well… If it isn’t one of my favorite artists whom I didn’t even realize I was mutuals with for the longest time ever 🙂 @oathofoaks YOU PRICK I DIDNT EVEN KNOW YOU HAD A SECOND BLOG FOR THE LONGEST TIME 👹👹👹 anyways. YOURE SO FUCKING COOL AND AMAZING YOI DONT EVEN KNOW!!!! Def top 3 favorite twst artists, without a doubt! its an honor to be your mutual ☺️☺️💕

MY MOOTHEERRRR!!!! MY ELDER SIBLING!!!!!!! AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN!!!!!!!! @twistedwonderlandshenanigans my top notch cheerleader (and opp because those chanclas hurt 😢😢😢) you have NO IDEA how much I appreciate you being in my life. Your encouragement and sweet words of comfort bring an immeasurable joy to my days, and every time we interact I get EXTREMELY giddy. LOVE YOU TO PIECES V 💞💞💞💓💓💓💓💖💖💖

Literally my other half because who tf is you and who told you you could match my freak 🤨🤨🤨🤨 @lumdays I hope a boulder falls on your head and Jade Juca Leech appears to save you <3 /aff

HIIIIII DARLING 🤪🤪🤪💖💖💖💓💓💓 @amatsuchan-eiliniel literally so lovely, sweet, and amazing 🤩 I want you to know I love you so so much, and you will forever be THE ROOK TO MY VIL <<<333 🏹👑

Another moot who I don’t interact with NEARLY as much as I would like to, but I appreciate you regardless @br3adtoasty your art is MESMERIZING 🤩🤩🤩‼️‼️‼️

HIIII ELLIS HIHIHIHIHI @starry-night-rose my coquette pink girl comrade ALL THE WAY!!! Love love love your sweet kind energy, you’re truly adorable and I hope for great things in your life 💓💓

#THANK YOU ALL SO SO SO MUCH #I LOVE YOU TO BITS AND PIECES 😭😭😭😭😭😭#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst oc #twst ocs #aurinelle sireiwen #disney twisted wonderland #octavinelle oc #my artwork #my art #101 followers #followers #follower celebration #digital art #mutuals #mooties ♡

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mysticinsightstarot · 8 months ago

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♧PAC : 🔞 NSFW THOUGHTS OF YOUR FS♧

🔥 Welcome to Our Spicy Pick-A-Card NSFW Reading! 🔥

Hello, beautiful souls! 🌟 Today, we’re diving deep into the steamy and sensual thoughts your future spouse has about you. This pick-a-card reading is designed to give you a glimpse into their most intimate fantasies and desires—so, get ready to feel the heat 🔥💋.

✨ How to Pick Your Pile:

Take a deep breath and clear your mind.

Focus on your energy and intentions.

Look at the three piles below, represented by different images.

Trust your intuition to guide you to the pile that calls out the most.

Once you've chosen, click on your pile and dive into the details of your future spouse’s fantasies 😏.

Pile 1: (Image of a Softly Lit Candlelit Room 🕯️)

Pile 2: (Image of a Dimly Lit Room with Shadows 🌑)

Pile 3: (Image of a Couple Silhouetted in the Moonlight 🌙)

👉 Special Offer: Bring in 3 Paid Clients and Get a FREE Reading!

Refer 3 clients who book paid readings with us, and you’ll receive any one of our paid readings FREE! 🎉

Your referral code is SunSera3_(your name)—make sure your referred clients mention this code at checkout for the offer to be valid.

Spread the word and enjoy a complimentary reading on us once your referrals are confirmed!

Visit our website for more details and readings: https://sunseratarotcommunity.wordpress.com

⚠️ Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. It’s meant to give you insight and guidance, but remember, the future is fluid and subject to change. We encourage you to use these readings as a tool for reflection and self-awareness, but always trust your own judgment and intuition in all matters. Must be 18 or older to engage with NSFW content.

Happy picking, and we hope your pile reveals everything you're curious about 😉💖!

Pile 1

Pile 2 > Pile 3

💋 Pile 1: NSFW Thoughts of Your Future Spouse 💋

Card 1 – Initial Attraction (6 of Swords): When they first saw you, babe, it wasn’t just your looks—it was your aura. You’re like this mysterious, calming presence that they can’t get out of their head 🌊🖤. They love that you seem chill on the surface, but they know there's something darker and deeper underneath. They fantasize about those private, sensual moments where they get to break through that calm exterior and find out exactly what gets you wild. They want to take you from that peaceful state to one where you’re both completely consumed by each other 💫. It’s that vibe of “I’ll take you away from your everyday life and into a world where it’s just us, and nothing else matters.”

Card 2 – Secret Desires (3 of Pentacles + The Tower): 👀 Listen, their secret desires? Let’s just say they need to shake things up with you. The 3 of Pentacles? Oh, honey, they’ve been thinking about putting in some serious work with you, but it’s not your usual "teamwork" stuff 🛠️🔥. It’s more like, they want to take control of every move, every touch, guiding you and collaborating with you in the most intense ways. And The Tower? Whew! 😈 Their ultimate fantasy is a sudden, explosive moment—where neither of you holds back. They want it to be rough, unexpected, and passionate, where things get a little chaotic in the best way possible. They crave that feeling of you both losing control, tearing down all boundaries (maybe even some clothes 😏), and just… going at it without thinking twice. They want you completely undone.

Card 3 – How They Want to Please You (Ace of Swords + 6 of Wands + The World): Let’s get one thing straight—your future spouse is OBSESSED with the idea of being the BEST you’ve ever had 💥🗡️. The Ace of Swords shows they fantasize about being the person who gets inside your head first. It’s not just physical—they want to turn you on with words, their voice, and their intelligence. They dream of whispering in your ear exactly what they’re about to do to you, watching as you react. And when the time comes? The 6 of Wands means they want to be your ultimate victory 🏆. They fantasize about you screaming their name, making them feel like they’re on top of the world as you reach your peak. With The World card, they’re thinking about completeness. They don’t just want to please you once—they dream about giving you everything: body, mind, and soul, over and over again until you both can’t take it anymore 🌍💦.

Card 4 – Emotional Connection (The Emperor): Don’t get it twisted—this is about more than just heat. The Emperor shows that in their fantasies, they’re not just thinking about passion, they’re thinking about control—but in a way that makes you feel safe and desired 👑🔥. They want to be the one you look up to, the one who takes charge and guides you, not just in the bedroom but in life. In their fantasies, they’re the one holding you together emotionally and physically. They want to take care of you, but they also want to dominate you 😏. That mixture of love and power? Yeah, they fantasize about owning every part of you, in the most seductive way possible.

Card 5 – Fantasy Scenario (7 of Cups + Ace of Cups): Your spouse has got quite the imagination, babe 😈🌈. They fantasize about all kinds of different settings with you—from classy, romantic dinners that end with heated kisses under the stars, to late-night rendezvous where they can’t keep their hands off you the moment the door closes. The 7 of Cups shows that their mind runs wild with options. Maybe it’s in the shower with water dripping down both of your bodies 💦, maybe it’s outside in a secluded spot where no one’s around 🌲🔥. And the Ace of Cups? Oh, baby, it’s not just about lust—they fantasize about filling you with love and pleasure at the same time. They dream of those slow, sensual moments where it’s just about the two of you and how deeply connected you feel when your bodies finally meet. They want that sweet mix of passion and overflowing emotion, where every touch means something 💖🥰.

Card 6 – After Intimacy (10 of Wands + 6 of Pentacles + Queen of Swords + 10 of Pentacles): After they’re done with you (if they’re ever really “done” 😏), they feel exhausted but in the best way possible. The 10 of Wands shows they fantasize about carrying the weight of your pleasure, leaving them spent but satisfied. It’s like they’ve given you EVERYTHING, every bit of energy, every ounce of passion 🔥💼. The 6 of Pentacles? They dream about giving and receiving in equal measure—they want you to feel as fulfilled as they do, so they imagine you both laying there, completely satisfied but still wanting more 🤲💋. And with the Queen of Swords? Oh, honey, they see you as this strong, powerful person who they’ve totally impressed. They fantasize about you giving them that look of approval, like, “Yeah, you handled that well.” Finally, the 10 of Pentacles means they want to build something lasting. Their fantasies aren’t just about one night—they dream of a future where you’re both still wrapped up in each other years from now, building a life together that’s just as passionate as day one 💍🏠.

Bottom of the Deck – The Hermit: Their spicy thoughts are locked away in their mind, babe 🔒🕯️. The Hermit shows that they keep these fantasies to themselves, dreaming of the day when they can make them come true. It’s like their little secret, only shared in the quiet moments when they’re alone… and thinking about you. They’re waiting for the right moment to turn all those fantasies into reality, and when they do? You better believe it’s gonna be explosive 🌙💥.

💌 So there you have it, hun! Your future spouse is dreaming of moments with you that are intense, passionate, and full of desire. They want to completely blow your mind, while also building something lasting and deeply emotional. It’s the perfect mix of heat and heart, and when they finally get you? Let’s just say… you’re both gonna be left breathless 🔥💖. Let me know if this got you all heated up 🔥💌!

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Here’s your Pile 2: NSFW "Thoughts of Your Future Spouse" reading, set in a dimly lit room, dripping with sensual energy and mystery. 🔥💫 The lighting is low, but their desires are burning bright—let's see what their deepest fantasies are about you.

💋 Pile 2: NSFW Thoughts of Your Future Spouse 💋

Card 1 – Initial Attraction (5 of Swords + Queen of Wands + King of Cups + 2 of Swords): Your future spouse is intoxicated by your bold, confident energy 🔥. The Queen of Wands tells me that they’re immediately drawn to how you command the room. You have this magnetic charm, and it drives them crazy. In their fantasies, they love the idea of trying to break through your strong, confident exterior. The 5 of Swords shows they want to dominate you in a way that leaves you speechless, like a battle of wills, but they want to be the one to come out on top 😏. Yet, with the King of Cups, they’re deeply emotional about you. It’s like they’re thinking about getting you to surrender—not just physically but emotionally, too. And the 2 of Swords? Oh, they imagine you teasing them, like you’re indecisive, playing hard to get… which only makes them want you more. It’s that push-pull dynamic that drives them wild 🌪️.

Card 2 – Secret Desires (The World + 6 of Wands + 7 of Swords): Oh, baby, their secret desires? They want to win you in every way possible 🌍🏆. With The World, they’re fantasizing about making you theirs completely, like they’re the only one who gets to experience all of you—mind, body, and soul. They’re picturing themselves undressing you slowly, savoring every moment of your submission to their touch, until they’ve got you exactly where they want you. The 6 of Wands says they fantasize about being your ultimate victory—they want you to feel like they’re the best you’ve ever had, like no one else even comes close. But the 7 of Swords? That’s where it gets spicy—they love the idea of a secret encounter, something forbidden, where you both can’t keep your hands off each other. They want you sneaking around, meeting in dimly lit places where the risk of getting caught adds to the thrill. They’re thinking about breaking all the rules with you 😈.

Card 3 – How They Want to Please You (6 of Cups + 10 of Cups): Your spouse is a romantic, babe, and in their fantasies, they’re all about pleasing you both physically and emotionally 🥰. The 6 of Cups shows they imagine you in sweet, intimate moments where they’re doing little things to make you feel special—soft kisses, touches, and making you feel like the most cherished person in the world. But the 10 of Cups? Oh honey, it’s all about the endgame. They dream of ultimate satisfaction—emotional fulfillment mixed with pleasure. They want to take you to that place where you’re both feeling everything—the intensity of the moment, but also the deep love and connection behind it. They want to make you feel like you’re living in a perfect world when you’re together, where every touch and every moan is part of something bigger—something that feels like home 💖🏠.

Card 4 – Emotional Connection (King of Pentacles + Page of Pentacles + Page of Cups): Let’s get one thing straight—this isn’t just about heat. The King of Pentacles shows they fantasize about being your provider and protector. They want to be that stable force in your life, someone you can rely on no matter what 🏆🌳. In their fantasies, it’s not just about lust—they imagine taking care of you, spoiling you, and making sure you feel safe. The Page of Pentacles adds that they’re eager to learn everything about what pleases you. They’re curious, excited, and more than willing to put in the work to keep you satisfied. And with the Page of Cups? They fantasize about sharing their softer side with you—those tender, quiet moments after the heat, when you’re both wrapped up in each other. They’re daydreaming about whispering sweet things in your ear, and watching you smile, knowing they’ve won your heart as much as your body 💞.

Card 5 – Fantasy Scenario (Knight of Cups + 8 of Pentacles + 3 of Wands + Judgment + 2 of Cups): Okay, so this fantasy is next-level 😍. The Knight of Cups is all about sweeping you off your feet in the most romantic way possible. They fantasize about taking you on an adventure—somewhere new and exciting, where the anticipation builds. The 8 of Pentacles shows that they’re ready to put in the work, literally—they imagine every touch, every kiss being just right, as if they’ve mastered the art of your pleasure. The 3 of Wands suggests they dream of taking you somewhere with a view, maybe overlooking the city at night or a place by the sea, where it’s just you two. And with Judgment, they imagine that moment of release, when everything comes together and you both experience something almost spiritual. It’s like they fantasize about you both reaching a place of pure bliss, where nothing else matters except the connection between you. And with the 2 of Cups? It’s not just about physical satisfaction—they’re dreaming of a love so deep it feels like destiny 💫.

Card 6 – How They See You (The Empress): Babe, in their fantasies, you are the ultimate goddess 🌸👑. The Empress means they see you as this stunning, nurturing, powerful person who is irresistible. You’re everything they’ve ever wanted, and in their daydreams, they can’t get enough of your beauty, your softness, and your strength. They imagine worshiping your body, making you feel like the most desired person on Earth. They want to indulge in every part of you—treating you like the queen you are, while also craving the way you make them feel alive. Their fantasies are all about giving you pleasure, watching you lose yourself in the moment as they take care of your every need 💋.

Bottom of the Deck – 6 of Pentacles: Your spouse is a giver and they fantasize about reciprocity in the bedroom 💞. The 6 of Pentacles shows that in their fantasies, it’s all about balance—they want to give you as much pleasure as they get. It’s a give-and-take situation where both of you are left completely satisfied. They imagine those moments where you both can’t get enough of each other, where the passion is mutual, and the connection feels perfectly balanced 💫. They want you to know that it’s not just about their satisfaction—they’re here to please you in every way imaginable 🔥.

💌 So there you have it, babe! Your future spouse is dreaming of moments with you that are filled with passion, romance, and deep emotional connection. They want to sweep you off your feet, leave you breathless, and make sure you know just how much they cherish every part of you. The dimly lit room? Oh, it’s just the setting for something dangerous and unforgettable to unfold 😈💖.

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💋 Pile 3: NSFW Thoughts of Your Future Spouse 💋

Card 1 – First Impressions & Their Deep Desires (The High Priestess + Death): Your future spouse is spellbound by your mystery 🖤✨. With The High Priestess, they see you as an enigma—a quiet power that turns them on beyond belief. They fantasize about peeling back your layers, finding out what lies beneath your cool exterior, and unlocking the hidden passions you keep buried. In their dreams, they imagine your quiet confidence giving way to something wild and uncontrollable. Death here? Oh, babe, that means they fantasize about a total transformation between you—crossing that line from casual attraction to something intense and all-consuming 🔥. They imagine you both evolving, crossing the point of no return, where everything changes. They want to ignite that spark in you and burn it down until there's nothing left but pure, raw desire.

Card 2 – The Heat of the Moment (Wheel of Fortune + 7 of Wands + 2 of Cups): Things take a spicy turn when they think of your chemistry—it’s explosive ⚡. The Wheel of Fortune tells me they fantasize about things happening unexpectedly, like fate brings you together in a sudden and intense encounter. They imagine it being like a game of chance, where neither of you can resist the pull anymore. And with the 7 of Wands, they dream of the tension—they love the idea of fighting it off, resisting the urge until it boils over. It’s the ultimate power struggle. They imagine you both pushing and pulling until the heat is unbearable 😏. But with the 2 of Cups? The fantasies end in sweet surrender, where you finally give in, and the connection between you is nothing short of magical. It’s more than just lust—they see it as an inevitable connection, like you two are meant to come together in this heated moment 💫.

Card 3 – What They Want to Do to You (8 of Wands + Queen of Wands): When it comes to what they want to do? It’s fast, passionate, and intense 😈. The 8 of Wands shows they imagine things happening at lightning speed—they want to sweep you off your feet and leave you breathless. Their fantasies involve sudden bursts of passion, where they can't keep their hands off you. They want to move fast, like once they get started, there’s no stopping them. The Queen of Wands shows how much they admire your fiery, confident energy—they fantasize about your assertiveness and love that you can match their intensity. You’re their equal, and they imagine you taking control, showing them what you want. In their mind, you're a queen who knows exactly how to please them, and that dominates their thoughts 🔥👑.

Card 4 – Emotional Depth (9 of Wands + King of Cups + Lovers): They fantasize not just about the passion, but about the emotional intensity of being with you 🌊💖. The 9 of Wands shows they’re imagining holding out for you, guarding their heart until the right moment. In their fantasies, there’s this buildup of emotional tension—they’ve been waiting for you, craving this connection. And with the King of Cups, their thoughts run deep. They dream of being the one to finally break through your emotional walls and claim your heart. It’s not just about the physical—they want to love you completely. The Lovers confirms it—they fantasize about you as their perfect match, their soulmate, both in and out of the bedroom. They crave the emotional highs, not just the physical ones, and imagine every moment with you being steeped in passion and love 🔥💏.

Card 5 – Their Fantasy Scenario (3 of Cups + 2 of Pentacles): In their fantasies, they dream of celebration and indulgence 🥂💃. The 3 of Cups shows they want to enjoy you in a relaxed, carefree setting—they imagine playful encounters, where you’re both laughing and teasing each other. Maybe it’s a party, or a night out, where things escalate quickly from innocent flirting to something more heated. The 2 of Pentacles suggests that in their fantasies, they love the back-and-forth between you two. They dream of balancing that playful energy with serious passion, taking you from light-hearted teasing to deep, intense moments in the blink of an eye. They want to keep things fun but electrifying, always keeping you on your toes.

Card 6 – How They See You (Temperance + The Star + Queen of Swords + Page of Wands): You, babe, are their dream come true 🌟. Temperance and The Star together show that they fantasize about you being the perfect balance in their life—you’re calm and collected but with a fire that ignites them from the inside out. They see you as their guiding star, someone who brings them peace and passion all at once. The Queen of Swords says they admire your sharp mind and independent nature, which makes you all the more irresistible to them. In their fantasies, they’re just as attracted to your intellect as they are to your body. And the Page of Wands? They dream of exploring new, exciting things with you. You make them feel alive, like they’re on an adventure. They fantasize about you two exploring each other’s desires with enthusiasm and curiosity, discovering every secret pleasure together 🔥.

Bottom of the Deck – The Hierophant: Your future spouse fantasizes about commitment—they want something deeper than just a physical connection 👰🤵. The Hierophant shows that, at their core, they dream of something sacred with you, a bond that goes beyond passion. They imagine being with you in a way that’s traditional yet intimate, where you both share not just your bodies, but your souls. They fantasize about making you theirs in every sense—body, heart, and spirit. It’s not just about the heat—it’s about the future they see with you, where you both belong to each other, forever 💍.

💌 So there you go, babe! Your future spouse has some deep, intense, and downright electrifying thoughts about you. They’re dreaming of the perfect balance—wild passion mixed with deep emotional connection, where you both challenge and complete each other in ways no one else could. From playful encounters to soul-shaking love, they’re ready to give it all to you, wrapped up in commitment and desire 💋🔥.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✨ Conclusion: Your Journey Awaits! ✨

Thank you for joining us on this steamy journey into the thoughts and fantasies of your future spouse! We hope your chosen pile has revealed some tantalizing insights that spark your curiosity and deepen your connection. Remember, the universe is full of possibilities, and your love story is just beginning! 💖

If you enjoyed this reading, please consider sharing this post, reposting it to your stories, and spreading the word to your friends! Your support means the world to us. 💌 We’re aiming to reach 500 followers by the end of October, and with your help, we know we can get there!

Follow our account for more exciting content, tarot readings, and exclusive offers. Let’s grow this beautiful community together! 🌟

Thank you for being part of our journey! We can’t wait to see where the cards lead you next. Until next time! 🔮💫

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adams-angels · 1 year ago

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hello! May I have a part 2 of Adam's revenge? It's really made my day btw —

Oooh a two parter? You bet! As I was writing I figured this would be the end but .... I think a part 3 might be called for :3c

💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖

Revenge 😈 pt 2

You can't believe it. No way. No fucking way. You pace your bedroom floor, hand pulling at your hair. You cheated. On your husband. He'll kill you. Right? I mean, he's the king of HELL and you betrayed him.

"and with YOU! Of all the fucking people in the heavens and hells I fucked you!" You turn to the bed where Adam lies, feeling proud of himself after multiple rounds. "What? You liked it." He smirked as he watched your eventual break down. You pick up his robe from the floor and shoved it into his arms. "You need to leave!" Quickly pulling him to his feet and pushing him towards the balcony. "Woah, woah! What's the rush, babe!" He sounded so smug right now. You hated it. You push in on to the balcony, he turns to face you just as you about to shut the doors. "What? No kiss goodbye?" He teased. "AUGH!" You slam the doors shut and close the curtains.

You can hear him laugh before hearing him shuffle on his robe and flying away. You rush to the bed pulling the sheets off that was covered with your combined fluids. But it wasn't enough, you could still smell him. You took the pillows and the duvet. Still the bed itself was tainted by his smell. "No, no, no..."

You found yourself standing outside, your whole bed burning in hellfire as you smoked a cigarette. Blowing out smoke and flicking the cigarette into the fire you sigh. "Never again."

You returned to the bedroom, opening the balcony doors and all the windows in the room to get "fresh" air. In your vendetta against the bed you didn't notice that Adams mask was still there on the floor. You didn't give it him and he didn't pick it up. Your heart fluttered as you picked it up. Your hand cupping the cheek of the mask wishing it would be his face. You scowled at yourself before dropping the mask in disgust. No way did you just think that. You picked the mask back up like it was a dirty sock and tried thinking what do with it. Hellfire wouldn't burn it. You don't think you can destroy it... You walk towards your wardrobe and hide it on the top shelf. Your short king would never. You hoped...

～⁠♡✧⁠｡ I really hope you enjoyed! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! ｡✧⁠♡～⁠

Extermination day came to an end, you'd have a week before Lucifer would come back. You spent that time cleaning the bedroom, avoiding the wardrobe all together. Ordered a new bed. Made your bedroom all pretty for you husbands return. The love of your after life. Your man. Adam. I MEAN LUCIFER!!!!! You start cleaning the bedroom again.

"so... Extermination day. I hope you didn't get into any bother, my dear." He took your hand, pulling your closer. You were surprised by the affection you were recieving. "Well.. it's the same as every year." You chuckled awkwardly. Why was he asking? Does he know? "I'm sorry I have to leave for so long. But don't worry. That changes today!" He dip kisses you. You pull away. "O-oh? Thats... That's fantastic! Yay!" It didn't feel fantastic. You should be happy your husband will be with you, the deadliest day of the year. But no.. you feel.. sad... That means you won't be able to see Adam.

Half way through scrubbing the floor you see feet. Looking up you see Lucifer smiling with his hands behind his back. "Hello, my darling." He smiled softly at you. How could you do this to him. "Lucifer! You're home early." His gives you his hand to help you up from the floor. "Yes, well.." you hesitate before taking his hand. "I have a suprise for you." You watch as you brings his hand from behind his back to reveal a little duck, that looks like you. Your heart shattered. Not that you let it show. "Oh, Lucifer, thank you. That's very sweet." You cradle the duck in your hands before giving you husband a peck on the lips.

"Uh, Lucifer... Do you think you could start calling me.... Babe?" You winced at your own question. "Uh, of course. Anything for you.. babe."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel adam x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel adam smut #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer

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ken-dom · 11 months ago

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hiiii first off i wanna say i love your work!!!

what r ur thoughts on six and body worship, both receiving and giving?

Hello anon! Thank you, that's very kind, and thank you for the tasty ask! Hope you enjoy my thoughts...

As well as for anon, this is for @heresthestorymorningglory aka Mrs Six. Thank you for everything 💖 and good morning 😈

Six and body worship

∘₊✧ NSFW, gn! and afab!reader, specific tags listed above each scenario

∘₊✧ SIX RECEIVING x GN!READER —

Hand job, praise, mentions of Six’s trauma and scars, aftercare

For Six, body worship would require a high level of trust; such an intimate act wouldn't come easily to him without it. You'd need to understand his boundaries and needs to help him feel safe. He’d need to let you in. But once you're there, it's the easiest thing in the world for you to worship his body.

He might find it a little overwhelming at first, blushing and whining at how good you can make him feel whilst he's so exposed. The way your fingertips tenderly trace over each twisted scar and raised mark on his body, while you whisper with lips that graze his shivering flesh between strategically placed kisses, how he is loved, handsome and strong, taking your time to ensure every last inch of him has been adored.

As hard as it is for him to hear it at first, while you caress the parts of him he previously only linked with trauma, his instinct to fight against your praise lessens the longer you go on until he starts to believe it himself.

He’s a puddle beneath you as you lavish him with affection designed to make him feel worthy, to show him just how sexy and strong he is. You’re so sure of it, and combined with your softness and the care you’re taking he wonders if you’re fixing him, somehow, somewhere deep he never wanted to explore.

He’s never needed you more, never whimpered for you before you even touched him. By the time you finally wrap your fingers around his throbbing cock he's bucking his hips up into your touch, desperate little pleads of, 'Please... please-' slipping out from between trembling lips, and you watch his muscles flex and tremble as he grips the headboard hard and unravels, hot and loud, to the sounds of your sensuous praise.

Aftercare is just as delicious. He dozes, wrapped safe in your arms listening to your soft voice pouring into his ear like warm honey, telling him how good he was for you, how you know he needed that, and how he deserves to feel good. How eventually, when he looks at his reflection in the mirror, he will be reminded of how strong and loved he is, and not of his past.

∘₊✧∘₊✧∘₊✧∘₊✧∘₊

∘₊✧ SIX GIVING x AFAB!READER —

Fingering, edging, praise, overstimulation

Six is nothing if he isn’t thorough in bed. He can have your knees weak in seconds with just a few whispered words, and have you begging to come undone in only a few more. He can spend hours between your thighs, worshipping you with his tongue, or his hands, without saying a word. And he fucks you good, like you’ve never been fucked. Each time, you wonder how it could be better than the last, but it is, somehow, and you’re hardly in a position to question it.

Six just loves to give you pleasure, to make you feel a fraction of what he feels when he thinks of you and what you share together, so you’re never left wanting. He keeps you satisfied easily and eagerly, and he can ignore his own needs for as long as it takes, which is rather dangerous for you if you think you’re getting any rest while he’s around.

So if he was going to really show your body the worship it deserves, you would know about it.

He starts slow, and continues on in very much the same vein. Hot breath misting against your skin and teasing touches cover every inch of your bare body, shivering but far too hot under his attentive gaze, building tension that he snaps without a beat the moment you interrupt. And then he will start again, right from the beginning.

If you disagree with his praise, if you fight what he’s telling you in any way, or if he feels you’re getting too close to release and haven’t had enough worship yet, he stops dead and just kisses you instead to keep you simmering. It’s languid and sensual, the slowest, most tender kiss you could imagine, while the rest of your body is burning up with need.

Only when you stop writhing and clenching your thighs together beneath him will he begin trailing his fingers over your wanting flesh again, begin repeating the phrases he wants you to hear and believe. And he takes you in, his eyes dragging hungrily over every last part of you as his fingers and palms explore, and he notes out loud every bit of you he adores.

He eventually will touch you where you crave him the most, strokes through your folds until you’re dripping, pumps his fingers and massages your clit just as frustratingly slowly as every other touch he’s given you, whilst spilling all the delicious, filthy praise you could ever wish to hear. And only then will he will let you unravel on his fingers, holding your trembling body close to his as he beckons you to orgasm and sees you through your bliss while you cling to him, fingertips biting into his muscles…

… Only to start over again the moment your breathing returns to normal. And he will keep going until you see what he sees, no matter how long it takes. Six doesn’t rest.

#not s f w 💀#sierra six smut #sierra six x reader #sierra six #sierra six imagines #ryan gosling #ryan gosling x reader #the gray man #ken-dom answers

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hanafubukki · 1 year ago

Text

Author’s Notes: @marigoldendragon and I did a collab together 💞💚🥳 I hope you enjoy what we came up with. It’s so much fun. *grabs you all by the shoulders* Please squeal with me about the art it’s so cute 🥹💖 and check out Marigold’s other works 🥰🩵🩵

Edit: Check out this comic from Marigold.

Summary: Lilia causes mischief while looking good.

Lilia is on a mission.

He’s feeling rather mischievous today.

He practically pranced towards his targets.

Ignoring the looks sent his way.

He knew they liked his shirt.

He’s rather proud of his find.

Lilia arrived at the stables where the Equestrian Club held their final meeting for the day.

Riddle noticed him first, sending him a questioning look.

Lilia took that cue to speak, “I have something to say to you all today.”

Everyone straightened.

Surely, it would be something serious for the Vice-Housewarden to come this entire way.

Lilia made a grand gesture of looking around at the horses, “Kufufu~ Your horses look rather calm today.”

He saw the confusion his statement brought.

Good.

“They are…stable today.”

A pause.

And then groans and sighs are heard.

From the corner of his eye, Lilia saw Silver’s exasperated and Sebek’s confused expressions.

Lilia took that as the perfect time to leave.

Smirking when he heard Riddle state, “A calm horse would be stable. What does he mean?”

Lilia, who was finishing up a mission online with his friend Gloomy Samurai, casually said “Hey, I have a question for you.”

“Oh? Lay it on me.”

“What does a baby computer call his father?”

Hesitantly, “What?”

“Data.”

A pause.

“WHAT KIND OF JOKE IS THAT? What are you?! A dad?!”

Kufufu~ he had no idea.

You knew something was up with the way Lilia barely held himself back.

You didn’t even question the shirt he was wearing. You were used to his oddly cute yet eccentric fashion.

“Okay out with it. I know you have something you want to say.”

“Why is it so cheap to throw a party in a haunted house?”

“Because Crowley is cheap and won’t fix it. Fine, fine, why?”

“Because the ghosts bring all the boos.”

You stifled your laughter, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Cute as a cutecumber?”

“Great Sevens, you’re cheesy.”

“I might be cheesy but I think you’re grate”

You picked up a pillow to throw at him.

“Now, now YN, You know I can’t run as quick as I used to. I am lacking in Vitamin U.”

Lilia burst into laughter as you threw the nearby pillows at him.

What did you all think?? Did you like the puns? The flirting?? I’m rather proud of them 😈💞 🥰 I hope it brought a smile to your face as well.

ALSO I CAN SQUEAL HERE ABOUT THE ART. LOOK AT HIIIIMMM. His smile!! It’s so wide and you can see his fangs. HE’S so happy my heart is swooning ahhhh

And the shirt!! Isn’t it perfect for him?? For this father of two?? 💚💚💚 ahhhh his expression and the flush he has. I love it so much 🥹💚 I want to give him all the kisses 🥰🥰

He’s such a punny bat dad fae 😆😎😘

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red-doll-face · 4 months ago

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Snow Angel 11

Chapter 11: fevered Series Masterlist

low - medium honor Arthur Morgan x fem. Reader

Arthur has been living by himself, laying low (for real this time) somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. After the whole Pinkerton and Micah debacle, he has been hiding away, waiting for it all to blow over, occasionally getting letters from the people who still know that he’s alive. He’s been alone awhile and at first, he thought he could handle a little loneliness. He has been wrong before. Lucky for him, you look like the perfect thing to break up the monotony.

Warnings: dubious consent, arthur’s mental health is kind of not so good…VERY low honor Arthur, darkish fic, a bit of naive reader. Reader has dated and period typical ideals, not very good ideas about men and marriage… if you want reader to be strong and a fighter… this is not for you sorry. suggestive themes. Huge HUGe Voyeurism bit, arthur being a perv 🤨👀 huge weirdo energy LMAO small mention of wanting death, WC: 7780 Hello snow angels : ) here is chapter 11!!! this chapter will be from arthurs perspective so very exciting 😳 i had a ton of fun just getting nasty with him and writing his fucked up little thoughts 😈 arthur inner monologue was a bit weird at first but im sure ill get better at it by actually attempting to do it LMAO i hope you guys enjoy and pls let me know what you think!!! i wanna thank everyone who has left replies and asks about this series, all of you have been so supportive and amazing, couldnt do it without you guys 🥹🥹💖💖💖 also this ended up way too long so sorry Tags: lots of angst todayyy, no TB, weird but not that toxic relationship, Arthur being a menace.Arthur being rude as always just… low honor arthur as a warning lol - What does it matter if the man who saved your life is a little strange?

It must be dusk falling too soon. Slow deprivation of heat and light; does things to his head, as if that wasn’t half screwed off already. Arthur’s fingers clutch the dusty curtain in front of one of two main windows at the front of his cabin; his eyes swear they can see…something out in the treeline. At first he thought of Pinkertons; to collect that bounty they were on about. Why they would follow him to the ends of the earth for that would be beyond him but Arthur had been known to do stupid things for a big payout. And of course, he hadn’t lived this long without a healthy amount of paranoia. Or what he called caution. Or perhaps Charles should have left his ass at the nearest asylum.

But he can sense that he’s wrong when nothing comes of it. No gunshots, no desperate shoot out for his life. Just the quiet again. In a minute, he’ll look out the window and watch the figure disappear. And he’ll shake his head, rub his calloused fingers over his tired eyes. He drops the curtain, pouring another cup of coffee at the silver percolator in the kitchen. He is not losing his grip; he isn’t. He’d leave that to Dutch.

It’s gotten worse with the winter; those strange things he sees from time to time. They make him feel more out of place than he already does. As if there’s something wrong with him, wrong with this moment. The frost grows over the windows like mold.

The summer sun kept the darkness from slipping in and leaking into his vision. But that’s long gone, been gone for a month. Shit weather up here, long dragging winters. Summers that were too short for his liking and an autumn that was beautiful but also short lived. The winter is too heavy now to do much of anything but loop out to the stable and back. Not much sightseeing to do, the same shock white landscape to see everyday.

In spite of how beautiful the mountain is; with its sprawling forest, creeks like liquid glass, the fresh winter air… Arthur finds it arduous to see it. Closing himself inside his cabin is easier. He could go and hunt something, draw the scenery. But was that any better than the fireplace? The comfort and simultaneous unease of staying inside the confines of his new home drag him in opposite directions. And even if his paranoid visions are just residue from another time in his life; he knows there are people who could be still searching, who might remember his face. Bad things had a way of following Arthur wherever he went.

Even more loathsome is the lack of sunlight. The sun disappears around 4 or 5 and it feels like it was midnight by 6. The windows of his wooden cabin blacken like soot, leaving him tired and groggy.

Arthur tries to keep himself going with bitterness like always. Coffee, cigarettes, and alcohol. He thinks the lack of light plays with his head. It’s easy to mistake shadows for ghosts, trusting himself was hard as it was.

Damn snow, cuts to the bone.

The stunning silence surprises him still at these odd moments in the day. Arthur thought that maybe the peace would do him some good. But there was a need that scratched incessantly at the front of his skull. Over and over and over.

He spent a long time being needed by other people. Dutch made him feel needed at the very least. Like he was part of something that symbolized how free a man could be. And he had devoted every shred of himself to the vision that Dutch had for the world. It was all that mattered to Arthur. His fealty was really all he had to give and so he gave it.

God, had he felt the fool on the last day he saw him, when Dutch walked away, as if everything Arthur had ever done was nothing to him. Twenty goddamn years of his life. If he was being honest, he knew that his loyalty was wasted before that day but he had waited to see if the man he knew would emerge. If he could kill that gutless rat and show Dutch the truth but he refused, leaving Arthur with nothing to show for it. Helping John, Abigail and Jack to safety was barely a comfort when he thought of all that he wasted. All he did was hand another man a chance at the life that he wanted.

But it was too late. As always with Arthur. (Everything was always too little; too late) Providing for others was embedded deeply in his being. It was something he had done for years, especially when he decided to get his shit together. He might have dallied, thoroughly enjoying his youth. But he learned (through several extremely painful lessons) why it was important that he pick up the slack. Loyalty isn’t represented by inaction. He hadn’t been all too kind to people but he had kept his comfort that in some part, his work was what kept that camp running. And when that fell apart; he really did try to help the less fortunate.

Really, he was making up for his failures to the people he cared about most. Arthur questioned if he had cared enough. If he did, maybe things would have ended differently between him and the people he harmed by being selfish.

Maybe Dutch put some modicum of power in his hands and Arthur had wielded it badly, went around acting like the cesspool he felt like most of the time. But at the end of the day, the camp ate because of him, they had medicine because of him, hell, they even drank because it was him that brought back more money than anyone else.

There is no one who needs him now. Arthur scrubs his hand over his face then down to rub over his shoulders. Leans his head back. At first it was nice. The independence. No more debt collecting for Strauss, no more worrying if there’s enough food for Pearson, no more looking out for O’Driscolls. He thought he would like only having one person to worry about; he had been lying to himself. Although he still had other things missing from him. They’re like phantom limbs. He can feel where they were supposed to be but when he looks down they’re gone. Hosea’s guidance was missing from him. Even if he was terrible at following it. The sound of the girl’s giggling and gossiping. Even Uncle and Swanson ambling around, drunker than he thought was possible. Dutch looming, watching through his haze of maduro sweetened smoke. He keeps looking down but they’re gone.

The fire crackles and the wind howls; picks up the silence. Sometimes the wind from the flue sounds like the breeze over Flat Iron Lake. The fire doesn’t sound any different than it did when it crackled warmly around a circle of a mismatched band of criminals singing songs together, alongside the chatter and the drunken crooning. When it was the background noise to thick Irish blabbering. The poor kid. He was going places, as most of the younger ones were, he and Lenny would have run that gang when they got past their growing pains. He could have told them that when they were living, that sentiment would have meant something then.

It’s been a year or two, the days sort of connect like train cars and chug along, not because he wants them to but because that’s how life goes. It’s an endless drag, an endless struggle. He can’t see how this is much better than being dead. Arthur Morgan is one of the few people who knows how precious life can be, he spent a lifetime taking it away from people as he pleased.

He tries to savor this peace (as if he knows how to). Tries to remember what it was like, not having any time to himself, always at Dutch’s beck and call. Barely any time to take a piss, let alone really rest, really give himself room to be anything but what others wanted. How he loathes those memories. The years he spent dedicating himself to another man's dreams. Watched all those years slip away, ashes in a smoke stack, rising forever upwards until they’re forgotten.

Arthur refuses to recall how many things he gave up for that life; down to the simple pleasures. Love, privacy, a family. He convinced himself that anything else wasn’t living, that he couldn’t ever be tied down. That old life was just… what he had. There was nowhere else to go and when he was old enough to go his own way, there were kids like him with nothing left; nothing to return to, no one to look after them. He might not have been anyone to look up to. Maybe he was a shining example of what not to be. It was Arthur who was there to keep people in line, to show them how to be killers for Dutch’s aspirations. He’s sure he ruined lives more than he taught them anything useful.

Nothing about that life was rooted in anything real, substantial to the world. Pipe dreams. Vague imaginings of living free in the west or some such tropical paradise. What a waste. Just the thought of a secluded island with palm trees on it summons a bitter laugh.

He sits and watches the fire. Tries to ignore the shadow in the corner. It's thin and wavering. Today, it looks a bit too much like Hosea for his taste. Especially when the log on the hearth cracks, it sounds like that ominous cough that followed the graying conniver everywhere he went.

Arthur lights another cigarette. He’s been making (quite frankly, just awful) attempts at rationing and this is his allotted second cigarette of the day. He’s two for five. He curses himself every time he forgets to take the drags and it crumbles to ash too quickly, landing on the rug beneath his boots. He hisses, a singe on his fingers snaps him back to the present moment. It burns his fingers when he forgets that he’s holding one entirely, too busy drilling holes in the walls with his eyes. He can’t stand it but he doesn’t have another choice. The silence has the mysterious property of making Arthur lose track of himself. He should have listened but he never learns.

This deep into winter, not too far from the base of Mt. Pàtu, he can’t just head out on the road and get more cigarettes. The nearest town is a six or seven hour ride and that isn’t happening, not in this weather. He might take Currant out for a light trot so he can get some exercise but he can tell something big is coming soon. The bellows of air from the west have him readying for storm weather. Best to get a move on now if he were to be going out.

It’s dinner now. He’s not sure where the time went but he doesn’t mind too much. He’s got coffee and he’s got hot food. Salt pork with potatoes, boiled in the salt water from soaking the corns of salt off the meat. He’s gotten better at cooking at least. Arthur scoffs at the thought of the slop he used to be eating. He takes a glass out and sets it on the counter, along with his fifth bottle of Kentucky bourbon. He’s allowed 6 bottles a month. By anyone else’s standards it might be a lot but where he spent most of his time; around other drunkards and degenerates, it’s not enough.

The storm hits full force now, there’s gonna be snow all the way up to the porch by tomorrow morning. But the air inside of his cabin is still and smoky. From the window, he checks the stable to see if the doors stay closed. It’s well insulated so Currant should be fine. The storm will have scared most of the game into hiding away, he contemplates when he’ll head back out for hunting. He takes a seat at his plain dining table, spends a while on the same glass of bourbon. The smell of cedar and salt is nice. So is the warmth of his cabin but it’s all lost to him. His sense for how fortunate he is to be here and not dead in a ditch is dull. Only he could be the man to crave chaos and blood and the sound of gunshots while sitting on his ass all day, sipping bourbon.

He thinks he’ll read a boring book or pretend to keep busy by stoking the fire. Arthur listens to the silence, waiting to hear something but the crackling and the draft from a small crack in the wall. But there’s nothing. He should have listened to Charles. But he insisted that he would be fine. He can’t go back on that now, he’s always been fine by himself. He’ll just wear the groove into his leather chair even further like the sorry bastard he is, trying to ignore how small and stiflingly warm the room feels.

The blizzard gets louder and louder. Dozing off on the sofa or in his chair sounds like as good a time as any. But he isn’t exhausted, just annoyingly groggy. Bouncing his knee does not count as activity. Neither does all the fidgeting he does, twitching his fingers, putting his legs up and bringing them back down. He tries to pace a little but wearing treads on the floorboards isn’t doing any good either. He puts his hands on his hips.

He grabs his journal but he doesn’t have much to write. What would he write about? Surely, the exciting things he experiences everyday. Waking up feeling like hot shit on a platter after having too much whiskey was not the kind of thing worth memorializing in his journal anymore. He’s a little past the shame now too, the embarrassment. He lets his fingers feel the blank page, the tooth of the paper.

He lets his hand form images of spring, the point of his pencil worn into a dull tip, recollected as best as possible. It’s nothing but a pale comparison.

There’s a pat on the door. It’s soft and weak. And just as softly, there’s a voice pleading for help, asking if anyone is inside. A light shining in through the cracks of his world.

He pushes himself up. He knows he hasn’t had that much to drink tonight. The worst possible outcomes play in his head. A ruse from bounty hunters, a local gang taking advantage (not a whole lot better than he would have done only 3 years ago), or another ghost from his past (the ones that play at the corner of his eye). His chest gets a little tight but he’s been good at keeping unease from holding him back. Arthur shakes his hand out, placing the book on the mantle of the fireplace.

“Who’s out there?” It’s an oddity. To hear another voice. One that isn’t his own. It’s a beautiful noise, a pleasing beckon. But he’s no fool. He doesn’t even particularly want to be here, why would anyone be here if they didn’t have to be? He grabs his revolver from the small table next to the entrance, one of the only loaded guns in the house. “Please, sir, I promise it’s just me,” and the earnestness in that voice, he has to believe that promise is true. He has to open the door. With a deep sigh, he stuffs the gun away after a second thought.

The figure is much too bundled up to gather any immediate details. She’s not very much, standing there out in the cold icy fluff. It isn’t until he nods his head to direct her does she realize she should probably come in. He peeks out at the tracks, just one long line of horse tracks in the process of getting blown over by the harsh wind and the lashing ice. Her struggle up to the porch marked in snow. Arthur scans the tree line for any of those dark silhouettes but they’ve blown away in the wind, they’re pushed from his mind when he turns back and closes the door shut behind the both of them.

He turns to her, he doesn’t mind the way she shrinks away from his body, skittish and slight. Such a small girl, alone in a snowstorm. He can’t think of a single good reason why she would be going it alone and what she could possibly need more than a night in. She should be warming her hands next to a fire. He could do it for her, could gather them and breathe on them. He tosses that behind him like an empty tin can. He has other things to focus on, mostly trying to get a better look at her and prying an answer out of her as to why she’s out here like this.

He’s more rude than he intended to be but a little rudeness is nothing new to him. “What the hell were you doin’ out there?” He has been described as coarse. Intentionally and unintentionally. He’s a little bit like a puffed up rooster when he catches her looking him over, marveling at the size of him. But he lets that fall away, surely she needed no old man assuming things on her part. He knows he ain’t much to look at. At his gruff tone, she has no response. The poor thing is so cold, her teeth chatter, whatever she mustered up to yell at him over the storm has run out. Arthur feels a little of his hard veneer chip away.

He thinks to take her coat, covered in frost and not nearly as insulated as he had hoped, it’s damp with melting ice now that she’s inside. But he feels like he’s dreaming again, peeling her coat off and hanging it on the rack, a faux gentleman. He doesn't know why he’s trying to impress but there’s a chance that she’d like a man like that. So he plays, pretends. He’s surely done that before.

When her coat is shed, all of those visions he’s been having must have caught up to him.

Jesus, Morgan. You’ve really lost it now.

This disease of loneliness he’s been given has surely destroyed the vestiges of his sanity. He must be imagining some young soft handed girl with warm bright eyes and vibrant, shiny hair. Face of an angel, looking hopeful; grateful. Her eyes on him burn like hellfire. He feels strange, watching much too close at how her tongue wets her lips; chapped from the cold. Beautiful; she must be someone’s girl, he hopes for a widow who had lost her husband to the winter frost. He’d gladly pick up where the fucker left off. Pry her from his cold hands. Could just be the loneliness talking. He can’t bring himself to care all that much about it.

Arthur can feel shame eating away at him, like ants at the corners of a scrap fallen off the table. He could have found himself sick to his stomach not too short a time ago. A girl as young as her and he, an old dog with even older tricks have no business together. He knows it too. But he was done with that crushing feeling of dread that ate away at his very soul some days. He had enough of his life to feel awful about. Blood on the floorboards, forgotten promises, disregarded words of affection. Just these moments, where he can hoard the vision that is this girl to himself after so long of giving pieces of himself away.

What has that shame ever done but made you worse?

If there isn’t the will to keep his eyes off the girl then there’s the give in him. Like a levy, it cracks a little, breaks into a million pieces of splintered wood for her. It’s been too long since he’s seen something so pretty. All flesh and blood. No graphite on paper; recollections of the women from his past, no Gem of Beauty cigarette card. She carries the smell of soap and perfumed cotton. He thinks it's geranium scented or another delicate flower crushed to pieces to make her smell like she came from heaven too. It’s a weakness he hadn’t culled.

This girl of his; she must be something quite real. His wishful daydream would have diverted to more intimate topics by now, and he’d probably imagine a woman he’s at least met before. Deciding if he’d prefer her to be real or a misty figment of his imagination; he can’t make heads nor tails of it. Arthur knows he’d probably end up disappointing a real person more than he could offend a figure cooked up in his mind. He sighs. He turns to the iron stove beside the dining table. There’s still coffee and he can distract himself from his ridiculous train of thought by clumsily pouring it out for her.

Hopeful bastard.

“You mute, girl? Asked you a question.” He knows she isn't but he wants to hear her talk some more. And maybe if she hears what a brute he makes himself out to be most of the time, she’ll turn her nose up at him the way she’s supposed to. Lots of women have, she wouldn’t be the first warned away by his attitude like a bad smell. He could almost let that temptation win. To change who he is at this moment. If only for the selfish purpose of luring her further into his home. However, he’s too impulsive and his tongue is too practiced at offending. He has words that are about as gentle as a fist to the nose.

He sets her cup down on the table. Arthur doesn’t wait for her to figure herself out, grabbing another cigarette, swiping them off of the coffee table in front of the fireplace. To hell with the rations. It was a special day after all, a goddamned holiday. He strikes the match on the table, lighting it as she tentatively steps forward. Nearly singes his finger on the match he forgot to put out, wincing and waving it out to put out the flame.

She’s a pearl, surrounded by the ugly oyster that is the less than stellar home he keeps. Carefully, she steps into his space. Suddenly, he’s hyper aware of every thing she could find awful or garish; his hunting trophies or the weapons or the wall. Or the mess of papers on the desk in the corner. It has him gripping his cigarette a bit too tight. Her face hardly moves in any particular reaction, as if used to him already. A simple neutrality is what takes her as she looks at some of the things over the mantle, then her eyes track over the small hallway, leading to the bedroom and some storage. She’s quick to bring her attention back to him, a soft smile that stuns him graces her face, kicking up some long buried hope of his.

If there was a woman who should be a lady, it’s her. She sets herself down on the sofa, neatly keeping her hands to herself, reaching for the cup he set out for her. But first checking to see if it wasn’t for him with a nervous flick of her eyes up to his own. He can hardly ignore how it pulls at him. She holds the blue speckled cup on her thigh.

“No, I…was getting something for my granny…” She explains she couldn’t make it to the doctor in the almost fatal weather outside. He has a humorless laugh. How could anyone send her out for the sake of some old hag; already knocking on death's door? Selfless girl but stupid. Defenseless. Her own mother, too. He supposes he can relate. The man he regarded as his father had been the one to let him down the most.

It’s always the ones you trust.

He makes his opinion known to her, maybe he can talk some sense into her.

“I can imagine. What kinda mother sends a pretty thing like you on a fool's errand? You really thought you was gonna bring your ol’ granny a doctor in this?” He reprimands her, she might need it.

Little girl gone out by herself. Needs you, don’t she?

What she probably needs is someone to keep her from doing things that risk her life for nothing at all. Doesn’t have to be him but he won’t turn the thought away. Breaking her open on her marriage bed. Such a pretty thing, a distracted smile into her cup of coffee. Lost in a snow drift because no one cared enough to keep her inside.

And she does nip back. Trying to give a rebuttal but he won’t have it. He knows he’s right, giving his idea of a light hearted joke, his particular brand of poking humor. Heavy handed as always.

“Your granny probably already kicked the bucket while you were out here, damn near gettin’ yourself killed.”

Perhaps insinuating her grandmother was already dead wasn’t the best attempt at familiarizing her with himself, her face tinges with an expression he’s used to seeing. Dutch said he had a sharper tongue than people thought. Hosea said it was too blunt.

“And if it weren’t for me, well…” she’d be dead. Forgotten somewhere in the snow with a dead horse for company. Such an image should hopefully be sobering for her. It’s a harsh reality but one he would prevent from happening. His hand comes up to scratch at his brambly jaw. She probably thought his slightly overgrown beard was ugly and unkempt. His fingers raise the delicate rolled cigarette to his lips. A nice calming drag helps his nerves calm down, they quit jumping under his skin every time her eyes pull over him, over his scarred face and his crooked nose and his gnarled hands. She looks like she holds something back. Her tongue, he thinks. He wished she would have just come out and said it.

But she’s a polite little thing, stifling herself with another drink of the coffee. The satisfaction on her face and the small droop in her shoulders now that she’s warm makes him smile.

She speaks up with a tremor stuck to her words. “I’m sorry mister,” her nose scrunches a little, doesn’t even know how darling he finds it. “but I don’t think you gave me your name…”

In a well practiced motion, he leans and ashes his cigarette. It took him a while to remember that he can’t just ash them on the ground anymore. He had floors and a permanent roof now. He tends to get the hang of things at some point. He kicks his legs up on the table, gently so as to not frighten the girl on his sofa, warming herself by his fire, and drinking his coffee. The thoughts tickle that provider’s instinct so deeply embedded in his being. His name, he almost forgets all about that, looking into her pretty eyes, blinking curiously. Right.

“Arthur. You married?” He never liked small talk too much. Never one for the surface level bullshit people put on. He watches each of her features form into something like a smile but not. Too nerve-y, falls into something else when she presses her lips together, her brows twitch as they pull together and her fingers scrunch in her gloves.

As if she’d marry you, ain’t exactly the pick of the litter, are ya?

His fingers twitch, squeeze his short nails into the give of his palm. Then why does she call him? So enticing, then, looking at him with soft eyes, her legs pressed together and slanted. A real proper girl. Cute thing. Naive enough not to recognize someone like him at first glance. He’s something to be avoided. He wishes he could see a ring glittering on her finger, to ward away the seething heat in his head and his gut. Like a prayer muttered in the presence of evil but he doubted it’d be strong enough.

“No, I’m afraid not,” her voice is like velvet, the rub of a rose petal between his fingers. Her eyes flick away and her teeth press gently into her bottom lip, sweet looking. No man to look after her besides her worthless father, left her out here to freeze. Alone, really. Or she might as well be. The world has been known to be cruel to women. To his mother, to a woman whose life he had ruined, to Mary even, to Susan and Molly. Well, most every woman he knew. It wasn’t fair but many things in their lives were disparagingly slanted away from them, scales always uneven.

“Young lady like you, unwed and caring for your Ma, Pa, all by yourself?” Arthur scoffs, even as he points out her tragedy. “Now that’s just sad, is what it is,” His fingers push his cigarette into the ash tray a bit too hard, twisting it. And he looks at her blouse, drawing the outline of her with his eyes. He’d put it to paper later. She has a small nod for him. A shining opportunity. But he has to introduce his own dingy reality. The one where he was probably old enough to have been able to hold her when she had just been born.

“You are… a sight, for an old ugly bastard like me is all,” Honest words slip from him, too loose for him to keep them behind his teeth. The bashful look crosses over her face makes his lip curl up just a little. She deserved to have someone tell her how pretty she is, who wouldn’t ever let her forget for a second how lovely she looked. Where all of these sappy things come from is beyond him. They ooze into his mind anyway.

Delicately, she sets the cup down on the table littered with other cups he had forgotten to put away and empty packages of cigarettes. He rolls his eyes at himself, of course he doesn’t clean up the day he has company.

“I left my horse in the stable out front, I hope you don’t mind,” her hands pet at her thighs, he can see where the fabric is damp. Immediately, his mind clicks into place, thinking on how he can fix it. That’s what the fairer sex truly craved, wasn’t it? Not some puffed up egomaniac. A fixer. A solution. His hands itch to move. To pick up the pieces of her problems and push them back into the shape of something whole. “Ain’t no trouble,” the relieved sag in her shoulders tells him that she actually worried about it.

So Arthur does, he’s nothing if not a man of action. “Why don’t I get you somethin’ dry to wear? Should be turnin’ in soon. Gettin’ late.” He’s up before he can hear a protest. But she doesn’t give much of one. In his bedroom, his hands swipe his hair backwards. The small mirror he usually keeps around strictly for shaving catches the light of the small oil lamp.

God, his best years are way behind him. So say the lines at the corners of his eyes, the gouges of his age on his forehead and the delicate webbing of wrinkles under his eyes. All of the evidence of his lifestyle glares back at him. There’s a ruddiness over the higher planes of his cheekbones from burning them under the sun. Some of the fist and knife fights from his youth have left permanent evidence of his misgivings on his face. Mostly in the form of scars and his odd nose.

You disgust her, don’t go kidding yourself.

If he ever told her the truth of himself, he’s sure a girl like her would go running, suddenly not minding the cold. He never was good at keeping beautiful things by his side. They rotted or wilted, or blew away with the wind. His rough fingers rub at the back of his neck. He stares deep into his own eyes. Trying to force some normalcy, some sense into himself but it’s all in vain. He grunts, paying mind to other things.

He opens his cabinet, all of the simple clothes he keeps. Something new and not so weathered, or dirty, something clean. Like her. Some nice cotton knit union suit, something he bought when he was preparing for winter. He grips them tight and hesitates at the door.

Just go n’ give it to her, and try not to be an idiot; for god’s sake.

And the sweet smile he sees knocks whatever sense he had gathered out of him, he can hardly form a word. He just holds the fabric out to her like an oaf. And she rises, as to keep things comfortable, good at reading his brutish signaling, taking them gently and skirting around him. And then she’s in his bedroom. With a mental cuss, he realizes that he forgot to clean the room before he left.

Ah, she’ll find out how pathetic you are at some point. Just a matter a’ when…

All those empty bottles and habits he’s formed from living alone. Dirty clothes piled somewhere and sheets that probably smelled a bit too much like sweat. Christ. He sighs, pinching his nose. He’s not sure why he’s putting so much thought into this. He doesn’t care. Not a care at all. Right…sure.

At first, he distracts himself with preparing food, his leftovers, hopefully enough for her. Doing this is an action which is perhaps a bit selfish. He wants to make it clear that he can give her things she needs. He could figure out wants later.. Typically, he hadn’t thought too much of what women wanted but with her he makes lists, takes out the fine brandy. Sometimes he took after Dutch more than he would like to admit, the man was all too good at forgetting about a woman’s wants and needs.

The food hasn’t gone too cold. His hands look for things to do, stirring unnecessarily. Fumbling the dish he places it on. However, the little comfort he gains from activity fades. He can only grip the counter like a vice while staring out the window above his sink for so long. The shades of brown and orange that make up his cabin blur into nothing, the wood grain isn’t as grounding as he wants it to be.

But then his legs drift in the opposite direction, He can hear a soft sigh and the rustle of clothing behind the door. He wets his dry throat. Arthur shouldn’t salivate. He does anyway.

You’re a creep. Something in his head laughs at him.

Been too long since you had a woman this close to your bed and she ain’t even in it with ya…c’mon. C’mon, just open the damn door.

His heart is about to pound his ribs into dust. He’s among the worst of the worst but this… pushes boundaries. Lines drawn in the sand. Peeping on women wasn’t something he was raised to do. And if he saw something he wasn’t supposed to see, it was an accident.

You ain’t that bad.

He’s used to letting the tide wash those out so he can draw new ones. And here is a new one. When his fingers push at the door and he can see the sliver where she bares her own flesh. Rubs her hands up her thighs, stepping out of her clothes. His throat goes dry, his teeth bite bluntly at the tip of his tongue as his jaw gets tense.

His eyes follow the natural plush curve of her body, pale yellow lamp light glancing off of her. He’d kill a man to touch her and he’d kill a man for touching her. Devouring every inch, his eyes soak it all up, dedicating her to memory.

And then she’s stepping into the creamy cotton of his clothes. Doing up the buttons at her front. Unbidden by him, his cock fills out, half hard, pressing uncomfortably at just the sight of her. The perfection of her hips, her hair brushing over her back.

The guilt is chewing a hole in his conscience. It’s like there are termites gnawing away at the foundation of whatever restraint he had. He’s felt less disgusting after killing a man, making him choke on his own blood as it fills his lungs. But the reward had never been so delightful. A sweet girl, so trusting, putting her hand to her chest and smiling as she realizes he’s there. It doesn’t feel good at all, the realization that he’s drooling over her like a mutt. All she has given him is reluctance, nervous glances. She doesn’t touch him or leave her hand to linger. A sweet-as-cream smile is all he has, enough to tide him over. He wants her anyway, needs her to stay. Letting her walk out after this will be next to impossible.

“You scared me, Mister…” Mister. So polite, an angel delivered unto him. He can feel how his body is tense, tight like a spring. How she doesn’t notice the evidence of his wrongdoing, pressing at the front of his pants is luck or her naivety. His expression must be dazed, a foolish look because all he can do is stare, unable to stop himself. Observing the way his clothes drape over her, exaggerating how much smaller she is in comparison. How stunning she’d look, sprawled over his bed sheets. Precious girl; struggling not to cry when she gets all stretched out on something wholly too big for her. In his mind's eye, she mouths his name, looks at him like all she wants is him inside of her. Right. His name again.

He dips back into his own ease in which he controls all of himself with. He is self assured and well handled. And he certainly doesn’t curl in on himself. Lets her see how big he is, slips back into old habits with the ease that comes with capability. “Morgan, Arthur Morgan,” his real name, no Kilgore’s or Calahan’s. She should know it anyhow, if he has any real intention in giving it to her.

It’s dangerous and it’s like she can feel it, somewhere in her body is that base instinct. One she was born with to protect herself from people with bad intentions. But she has another instinct, bares her neck to him. Arthur has always been good at suppressing his hunger, desire for soft pretty things. Settling like sediment on them was the control he had, buried them and buried them and buried them. She's a rainstorm, flooding his mind, washing out his carefully maintained resistance. Leaves his want raw and exposed and actionable. He wants her too much, wants her more than he has any right to.

He feels what little control he has over his urges begin to slip with that thought. Usually, he let them take over. Let whatever pain and anguish in him manifest into pure rage, cold and unadulterated. At first, it revolted him, his actions. And the reputation he built to go along with them. But they began to grow over him like a second skin until they encased whatever hope he had for a better life completely. His self induced hatred hid whatever pieces of him weren't supposed to be his to have and to share. The things he had to hide from himself even to feel like a whole person at any given moment. And he let himself be that awful thing people thought he was. Arthur Morgan. A force of nature.

But he deserved it, didn't he? Everyone should keep their distance anyway. He has a habit of making things worse than when he found them. But all he wanted was for her to be close. Sure, he could play the vulnerable man who could pine after his sweetheart, go out riding after her, guide her home where she would forget all about him. Just a kind man out to help the world.

That's not what he wanted. He wanted her to stay here. Can’t bear the thought of being a good man, sending her away when the storm blows over. In sickness and in health, til’ death do us part. That’s what he sees when he closes his eyes. She’s standing in the kitchen, turning the spoils of his hunts into dinner. With that easy smile. His too empty house just wouldn’t feel like a home without her in it. He’s sick, he knows; but he’s sure she can cure him.

Arthur Morgan has always wanted more than he could have. He chews on the thought like tobacco. Bitter but eventually he begins to need the taste, to crave it.

“Put somethin’ on the stove for ya, man can’t leave no woman hungry…” God, his tongue feels too thick in his mouth and his jaw aches from gritting his teeth too hard. And of course, he lays all his cards on the table. Man can’t leave his woman hungry.

Every little gesture she makes, wrapping her arms shyly around herself, the gentle tilt of her head and the small affirmative gesture she makes is in no way unordinary. But they’re all dripping with her appeal. How can she smile at him like he doesn't look the way he does? Like he hasn't made the world worse just by existing in it?

He soils her just by laying greedy eyes on her neck, on her nipples which he can make out through the fabric of his union suit. And when she opens her mouth, he knows he’ll end up calling her what she is. Sweet and syrupy, soothing on his throat.

“Thank you, Mr. Morgan. I really appreciate your kindness,” Arthur is convinced he heard her wrong. But her honesty is in those radiant eyes, in her easy posture. It must be meant to be, it’s not every day a woman talked to him like that. Or talked to him at all. He was perhaps too busy making sure they knew what they would be getting into; dealing with him.

It may just be the respectful manners instilled in her. He supposed her parents had given her that; mannerisms that made her quite the catch. Utter perfection. But really, even that was a disservice. They damned her to him. Makes him see glimpses of a life he could have. Hundreds of conversations, every iteration of the precious babe they'd have together with his hair and her eyes, a son or a daughter. Two of each perhaps. Hours and hours of her gentle, refined voice taking up the empty room. He bows his head as if he can keep his disbelief and joy under the brim of his hat, currently hanging by his front door.

She comes nearer. He can smell her cotton scent, can see the way the light casts around her hair, feathering over her, turning it into gold. His body moves to make the smallest space for her. Hoping she’ll nudge against him. He doesn’t even realize the way he’s formed himself to keep her here for just a moment. So close, Arthur nearly loses track of what he was supposed to be doing.

“Been a long time since somebody called me a kind man, usually it was the opposite,” apprehension floods her body, her features. Her eyes focus on him, waiting for something terrible to happen. Arthur sees how she bristles. He only meant to be honest but she’s already read between his lines. Smart girl.

He shows her just what he means. Even when he knows better, even if he’s never been this far. It’s like he has to touch though. No where uncomfortable, just to be sure she isn’t a sign that he’s truly gone from this world.

“Please, I-”

Her plea goes down his spine. It rakes its teeth over the parts of him that are wrong. That weren’t formed with gentleness, aren’t intricate. Just instinct that he’s indulged.

He may not be a good man. But he can behave well enough to keep her. Now that he has the room for her. He doesn’t live in a drafty tent. He’s not a dog chained to the hand that fed him too many years ago. He would never treat her like an object to display or a mistake made in a drunken night of pleasure. He wouldn’t throw this away, this one chance at having something real. Wouldn’t lay waste to this opportunity to fill a hole in him that yawned empty for what felt like eternity. She’d be his wife and he; her man. A husband. Mister and Missus Arthur Morgan. A crock of shit, he would have said a month ago.

That ain’t the hand you been dealt and you know it. You’ve made a mess of things enough.

But now… it's a dreamy reality. It hasn’t quite taken shape but he can get it there. Determination starts to crystallize over the idea. She’s something good; doesn’t need him. He could try to make something better too, could make the best of a situation, try to show her the best in him. But he knows it’d never be enough for her. He always throws these good things away, always ruins it somehow. But he grips and shakes like a mutt at this idea, gnaws it until it's raw. He can just take what he wants. Done that before, hasn’t he?

Just leave’er alone. God, you never learn, goddamned fool…

His fingers graze over the skin on her neck, uncovered by the collar of the union suit he lent her. Here in the dark of the small hallway, he can swear there’s something in the way she breathes, shudders. “I think you need a man to take care of you, honey, need a man to keep you inside- wouldn’t let you go out alone like this if you was my woman… Lemme show you how a man looks after a girl like you,” He’s aware that he sounds like a right bastard but he’s only telling the truth. His hand settles at her back, like it’s supposed to be there. They’re meant to be, all he has to do is show her.

ok yall how we feeling LMAO i think his perspective was interesting and fun for me to write but idk if its any good, but i hope with practice ill get more confident 🥹🥹 bro is a freak sooo yeah it was fun to write him as a freak he is very conflicted about everything and he is super weird but also sexy sooo😳 i hope you guys enjoyed this lil backstory on why arthur is a weirdo 😊😊😭😭 lmk what you guys think !!

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