#i follow like almost 150

[gaylornation]

what's actually bonkers to me is that I found out they had broken up for the final time literally the day before Lover dropped and I couldn't say shit... now here we are almost 4 years later and Karlie showed up to her show. like my mind has not fully comprehended it yet lol

[thisbibliomaniac]

Current book culture is so weird. Has it always been like this, and I've just never experienced it???

[macarensesangles]

i wish turning reblogs off on posts deleted them from other peoples blogs

[anyasathenaeum]

Guide (Inexperienced!Choso x Reader smut)

A/N: This is another thing nobody asked for, but... listen, I have a pantheon of anime husbands and Choso is WAY up there. So yeah, uh, have this inexperienced!Choso x flatmate!reader piece because I love him and my husband deserves nice things and sMASH SMASH SMA- Warnings: MINORS DNI, AFAB!reader, female terms and body parts are used, mentions of penetrative sex, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT, FOLKS), rough sex (a bit? not really, maybe if you squint lol), overstimulation, swearing.

Choso couldn't sleep.

3:24am.

The red, glowing numbers on the clock face by his bed seemed to mock him, reminding him of his inability to sleep and drawing his attention to the feelings coursing through his body. The very same feelings he was trying so very hard to ignore.

Choso may have been over 150 years old, and yet, this body, HIS body, was new to him. Its needs, its functions, the feelings it caused, every little detail was new. Despite his 150 years on this earth, he was still new in almost every single way.

Thankfully, you had been there for Choso every step of the way as he learned to understand his body and what it meant to be human. Besides being the person with whom Choso shared his apartment, you were also undoubtedly his best and closest friend, his favourite person outside of his family and the person around whom he always felt at peace and... happy. You were always open and accepting of him and his seemingly endless questions about the feelings and sensations in his body, never brushing him off or making him feel bad about his lack of knowledge or understanding.

But this... this was different.

Choso's brain suddenly seemed to be lacking an off switch, his mind conjuring up all sorts of images that he couldn't understand. Why was he constantly picturing you underneath him, your cheeks beautifully pink, your body bare and your skin pressed against his? Why did Choso want nothing but to rip the clothes straight off of you every time he saw you now? Why did picturing these things make his whole body feel like it was on fire, as if pure lava coursed through his veins? Why did his pants around his crotch suddenly become very, very tight every time those images flashed in his head? Why did it feel like you had become his very center of gravity?

Why? Why? Why?

Choso didn't understand this constant, desperate, aching need inside him. He didn't understand why you triggered that need every time he saw you or caught your scent. And so, despite it being the early hours of the morning, he decided that he would do exactly what he had always done when he didn't understand something about his body - he would ask you.

Slowly, Choso got out of bed and padded down the hallway to your bedroom. He knocked on your door loudly enough for you to wake, and he could hear you shuffling slowly in your room for a few moments before your door opened.

The sight of you before him, all sleepy and cuddly-looking, made Choso's heart squeeze in his chest for some reason. Your expression was scrunched up in confusion as you gazed at the man in front of you, stifling a small yawn before speaking to him, your voice thick with sleep.

"Choso? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry for waking you, (Y/N). I couldn't sleep. I'm experiencing some new feelings and they don't make sense to me. They're keeping me awake. Could you help me?"

Your eyes widen a bit as you hear his explanation, and the small, warm smile that appears on your face makes Choso want to grab your face and smash his lips against yours while tugging each scrap of clothing blocking him from feeling your warm skin off of you. However, he restrained himself, his hand tightening into a fist as he struggled to keep himself in check as you invited him into your room.

'Why? Why do I wanna do that?' The voice in his head inquired, but Choso simply brushed it off before following you into your bedroom.

The moment he crossed into your room, it was as if a haze came over him. Your scent seemed to envelope him, clinging to his skin as he walked behind you, filling him to the brim with a fire that seemed to burn in his very bones, refusing to be quenched no matter what he did. He watched as you snuggled back into your bed and patted a spot next to you, inviting him to sit with you and explain whatever was bothering him.

Carefully, Choso sat next to you in your bed, his body stiff as he tried to find a comfortable position without making you uncomfortable. However, you never complained when he brushed up against you, instead just snuggling in a bit closer, your warmth radiating against him and warming him in a different way than the fire in his bones did.

"So..." You spoke gently, gazing up at your best friend, "What's troubling you?"

Choso took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to express what he was feeling to you. After a couple moments, he began to speak, his voice low and almost embarrassed as he tried to explain his situation.

"Well... my body seems to feel like it's constantly filled with fire. My brain just seems to race constantly, showing me all sorts of images that make my body feel hot. Once I get hot, I feel this... pressure inside me, almost bordering on pain, sometimes. My pants tend to get tight and I feel some kind of desperate need. I don't know what my body wants, but there's usually a throbbing feeling and hardness between my legs that comes with it. I don't really know how to explain it or how to make it stop. It only seems to happen around you, (Y/N). Am I... sick or something? I don't understand what's happening to me."

When Choso looked at you, he was surprised to see that your eyes were wider than he had ever seen, your expression one of completely shock and surprise, as well as something he didn't quite know how to describe.

As Choso explained this new sensation, you felt your heart beginning to race in your chest and heat rising to your face as you realized exactly what he was talking about, and you pointedly tried to ignore the heat that suddenly throbbed between your thighs. You blinked a couple times as he spoke, trying to figure out if you were truly hearing him right.

What Choso was experiencing was sexual attraction. To you.

"(Y/N)?"

Choso's voice was now worried, and when you looked up at him, you realized he was watching you attentively, concern evident on his face as he no doubt waited for your reply. You quickly cleared your throat and sat up, trying not to let your own emotions stop you from helping Choso understand.

"Sorry! So, uh.... w-well, you're not sick, Choso. What you're feeling, u-um... is pretty common amongst humans."

You found yourself struggling to get the words out, even more heat rushing to your face as you tried to continue your shaky start of an explanation. It didn't help that you had Choso's undivided attention, his eyes trained on you with surprising intensity and interest. You took a deep breath before continuing.

"What you're feeling is sexual attraction. It's basically your body signaling that you're interested in somebody in a sexual sense and that you'd essentially like to... um... mate with them, I guess? That's probably the simplest way to explain it. It's thanks to your instincts, really. Of course, most people just refer to it as being "horny"."

Choso's eyes were wide as you finished talking, and he looked at you curiously for a couple moments before asking bluntly, "So that feeling is my body wanting me to mate with you?"

Your face felt like it was on fire as you tried not to choke on your own spit at his question. After taking a second to recover, you simply shrugged, acting as if this was a totally normal conversation to be having at 3 in the morning with your best friend that you had secretly been pining after for God knows how long.

"I guess so. H-Have you felt that for anybody else?"

"No," Choso replied immediately, studying you carefully as his emotions began to take over his words, "You're the only one who ever makes me feel that way. Being around you makes me want to do things to you, with you. Being around you makes me want to hold you. Kiss you. Rip the clothes off your body because I can't feel your skin when you wear them. And..."

He trailed off, looking down at his hands for a moment before looking back up at you, his pale face now flushed with colour and his voice dangerously low.

"And it's all driving me crazy. You, (Y/N). You're driving me crazy."

Your heart all but cheered in your chest at his admission, and you couldn't help the smile that appeared on your lips as you felt a surge of relief, happiness and desire course through your veins.

"Do you want me to help you with those feelings, Choso?"

In any other circumstances, you wouldn't have been brave enough to be so upfront in your question, but the part of you that had been longing after the dark-haired half-cursed spirit for so long had taken over and thrown caution to the wind. You would be damned if you would let this moment pass you by.

Choso's beautiful honey-coloured eyes widened at your question, nodding his head immediately in reply, "Of course I do. I don't want anybody except you, (Y/N). It's..." His voice faltered, falling to so quiet a whisper that you almost missed it. "It's always been you."

Before you could stop yourself, you shifted forward and gently pressed your lips against his as your heart sang in your chest at his confession. As you kissed him, you were careful not to overwhelm him by kissing him too hard or too passionately right from the start, knowing that this was definitely his first kiss. However, regardless of this being his first kiss, Choso was kissing you back immediately with enough energy and passion that he just about knocked you backwards into your bed.

His taste was addictive, and you found your hands burying themselves into his dark hair as you shifted closer to him, his tongue swiping your bottom lip as though asking for permission to deepen the kiss. You happily allowed it, relishing every second of the kiss with the man you'd been quietly yearning for. You gasped softly as Choso lifted you with ease, as if you weighed nothing at all, and placed you in his lap, never once breaking away from you or stopping your kiss.

Now that he finally understood what he was feeling for you, and to see that you felt the same way about him, Choso felt truly happy. His soul itself was filled with a warmth that he hadn't ever felt before, not even for his brothers. These feelings he had for you were something else entirely, powerful in their own right and a different entity than the love he harboured for his family. Sure, there was the sexual attraction you had described to him, but his feelings for you weren't comprised of just that. This was something more, and while Choso didn't exactly have the words to describe it just yet, in this moment, he didn't care. He had you, and that's all he needed.

You pulled away from Choso suddenly, both of you panting and with swollen lips from the intensity of your kissing. A soft whine escaped him the moment you stopped, an adorable pout appearing almost immediately on his lips as he leaned towards you, clearly wanting nothing more desperately than to continue kissing you.

"No... (Y/N), please don't stop..."

You wanted to coo at how sweet Choso was, and you fought hard to resist the temptation of kissing him once more, instead moving backwards a bit and grinning at him warmly.

"Now, now, patience, Choso. You'll get more kisses, don't worry. I just want to do something else for you first. I'm going to take your pants off. Is that okay?"

Choso pouted a bit at not being able to kiss you more, but gave you a nod in return, the colour in his cheeks darkening. With his consent, you gently brought your hands down to the waistband of his sweatpants, where there was a very obvious tent. Gently, you tugged the sweatpants off of his hips, pulling them down oh-so-slowly as you revealed more and more of Choso's bare skin, his treasure trail, and eventually, his dick finally sprung free. Your eyes widened as you stared at his cock, at its angry red tip, already dribbling precum from its slit and how it seemed to throb gently in time to Choso's heartbeat. While it wasn't super big, it was definitely much thicker than you expected and your pussy positively throbbed at the thought of having his cock deep inside you, stretching you out in a way nothing else ever would.

"I-Is it okay?"

Choso's voice quivered a bit, giving away his nervousness as you continued to stare at his cock with wide eyes. He couldn't help but feel a bit self-conscious at being bare like this before another person for the first time, let alone it being you.

"You're beautiful, Choso."

You response was breathless and sincere, your eyes glimmering as you looked up at him, the warmest smile you could possibly give him on your lips. The small whimper that escaped Choso at your response made your heart flutter, and you could see his cheeks darkening as he looked away, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I'm going to touch you now, okay?" You said softly, watching Choso carefully to ensure he was comfortable with you proceeding.

With another small whimper from Choso and a quick nod of his head, you gently reached your hand out and wrapped it around his shaft. The moment your soft, warm hand made contact with the silky skin of his cock, without you so much as moving, Choso suddenly shuddered and let out a loud whine. In the same instant, to your surprise, warm cum suddenly dribbled from his slit and got all over your hand.

"H-Hah... hah, fuck, 'm sorry... 'm so sorry, (Y/N)... i-it just... felt so good... I've never felt anything like that before..."

Choso couldn't meet your eyes as he whimpered out his apology, his cheeks a deep shade of red, embarrassment and a hint of confusion clear in his expression. Your heart lurched in your chest once more at just how sweet he was, and you couldn't help but giggle a little.

"Don't apologize, Choso. You came, that happens when you feel really good. It's normal. Nothing to be embarrassed about. In fact..." You smiled seductively as you looked him in the eyes, feeling more playful than before, "I plan on guiding you through it all and making you cum a few more times before the night's over."

The look on Choso's face was absolutely priceless, his eyes wide in surprise and his the colour in his face somehow darkening even more than before. Wiping your hand with a face cloth, you helped him get more comfortable, letting him rest against your headboard as you wriggled off his sweatpants the rest of the way followed by his shirt, revealing his toned and muscled torso, his defined abs, arms and back.

You could feel your own slick soaking through the pants of your pyjamas just at the sight of Choso naked in your bed, and you struggled to restrain yourself from touching yourself throughout all of this. How badly you wanted to sink your fingers into your weeping pussy, just for some hint of relief. Or better yet, have Choso use his long, thick fingers to make you see stars. But this was about him, now, and ensuring he had a good first sexual experience. So, you kept yourself in check and just focused on him, getting yourself comfortable as you laid between his thighs, once again taking his still-hard cock into your hands. You heard Choso let out a soft hiss and felt his dick throb and twitch in your hands at the contact, making you smile softly - he was so sensitive.

"Ready for the next part?" You teased gently, gazing up at the beautiful man before you.

"Yes, (Y/N)... p-please... more," Choso whined softly, squirming slightly beneath your touch as his cock twitched once more, his desire obvious in his voice and in his eyes.

Without so much as an answer, you leaned down and took the tip of Choso's cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip slowly. Choso positively mewled at the feeling of your warm mouth around him and the feeling of your tongue teasing his sensitive tip and slit, his orgasm already building once more as you continued.

"(Y/N)... o-oh, fuck... o-oh, yes, please, more! Please!"

Hearing Choso beg you for more made your pussy throb and drove you to take more of him in your mouth, taking his cock as far down your throat as you could as your tongue traced the thick vein on the underside of his shaft. More beautiful sounds came from Choso as you did this: moans of your name, curse words and soft whimpers and whines filled the room, until suddenly-

"'m gonna cum! F-Fuck, (Y/N), 'm gonna cum! (Y/N)!"

You felt a large hand tangle through your hair and push your head down a bit as Choso bucked his hips upward, forcing his cock just a bit deeper and making you gag slightly and your eyes water a bit as copious amounts of cum gushed down your throat. You squeezed your thighs together at the unintentionally rough treatment Choso had just given you, his fingers still tangled in your hair as he pulled you gently off his cock, his eyes filled with worry.

"Are you okay? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you or be rough, (Y/N). I'm really, really sorry."

Even in the midst of recovering from his orgasm, Choso was still worried for you, which made your heart flutter and your pussy practically gush. You shook your head, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before answering.

"It's okay, Choso. Don't worry about it, I'm alright. You didn't hurt me, it was just a little surprising, that's all."

Relief coursed through the man's veins as you confirmed that he hadn't hurt you or gone too far, a shaky breath escaping him as he leaned back against the headboard, still panting softly as he tried to regain his wits after his second orgasm of the night.

As you took in the sight of Choso naked in your bed, sat against your headboard with his arm slung over his eyes, his dark hair loose and his chest rising and falling with each breath, you couldn't help but be completely mesmerized by him. He was truly the most beautiful man you'd ever seen. It also did not escape your attention that somehow, even after two intense orgasms, his cock was still rock hard. Just how much more could he take?

Without much more thought, you found yourself stripping off your pyjamas, leaving you naked at last. You shivered and felt goosebumps erupt as you felt the cool night air brush over your skin, especially the skin that was positively soaked on the inside of and between your thighs.

"Choso," You called softly, wanting the man to look at you, to see you like this.

When Choso lowered his arm from his eyes and caught sight of your naked body before him, his honey-coloured eyes widened and became bigger than you'd ever seen before, his mouth dropping open slightly and his cheeks flushing once again.

You were so beautiful. Choso couldn't have even begun to imagine this kind of beauty, and to see you like this made his heart race frantically in his chest. He took in every detail of your body, his gaze lingering on your breasts for a few moments before continuing down your body. You looked so soft, your skin lit by the soft glow of the moon, and Choso wanted nothing than to touch you, hold you, stroke you, caress you and never let you go. Not even for a second.

Yet, when his gaze got down to your thighs, where he could see the slick coating your skin and the way it glistened, the scent of your arousal just barely teasing him, something inside Choso snapped. Gone were the thoughts of simply holding you or caressing you softly, instead replaced by a burning, all-consuming need. The same fire from before, multiplied a millions times in intensity, coursed through Choso's veins, and all he could do was give in to his instincts as they took over.

"Choso? Are you oka-ah!"

You yelped as Choso practically pounced on you, pressing his lips against your passionately as he flipped you into your bed so you were laying beneath him. You moaned into the kiss as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, kissing you deeper and more hungrily than you'd ever been kissed before.

Following his instincts, Choso rolled his hips, letting his cock drag through the soaked folds of your pussy and against your clit, making you moan out loudly from beneath him. You arched your back to allow him to keep grinding his dick against your cunt and clit, reveling in the feeling of pleasure he was giving you. Pulling away from your kiss, Choso brought his head down so his lips were by your ear so you could hear him panting softly.

"W-Want you," Choso whined, pressing desperate kisses to the side of your face and down your neck, "W-Want you so bad, (Y/N). Wanna... wanna be inside you."

As he whined those last few words, you felt the head of his cock catch on your entrance, making you gasp and jump slightly at the feeling. You could only bring yourself to nod your head, unable to speak as you felt Choso gently nuzzling your cheek with the tip of his nose. Without any other words, you felt him press his hips into yours, driving his cock into you slowly, inch by inch.

The stretch stung, a small hiss escaping you as you felt your pussy adjusting to the size of him. You'd never felt a cock as thick as his, and you let out a low moan at just how full you felt.

You could hear the man whining and whimpering your name over and over as he continued to slowly press himself into you to the hilt, the feeling of your warm, tight, spongy walls clenching around his cock and the way they seemed to pulse driving him dangerously close to cumming already.

"C-Cho... C-Cho..." Your voice wavered slightly as you struggled to form coherent words, "Feels s'good... you're... so big..."

Just feeling him inside you, pressing perfectly against that spongy, gummy spot, made you see stars. It felt as if you were made for each other, with him filling you just right and making you feel things nobody had ever made you feel before. However, before you could open your mouth to guide Choso through the next part, his instincts took over and he pulled out until just the tip was left inside you before thrusting back into you. A cry escaped your lips at the sudden feeling, your back arching in response and pleasure erupting through your veins as Choso observed you, his eyes trained on you carefully despite him panting softly. When he saw how you reacted, he took it as a sign to continue.

Without hesitation, Choso began to thrust into you almost desperately, hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over, his fingers intertwining with yours and holding your hand close as he fucked you into the mattress.

"F-Fuck, (Y/N), you're so tight... pussy's so good... so wet..." Choso whimpered, his movements suddenly stuttering and a low groan escaping him, "(Y/N)... g-gonna cum... gonna-!"

With a final thrust, he slammed himself to the hilt inside you, spilling himself and letting his cum fill you to the brim, coating your walls and pulling a moan of his name from your lips.

"C-Cho... God, th-that felt so good... so-ah!"

You cried out as Choso suddenly continued to thrust into you, slamming his hips against you even faster and harder than before, driving his cock deeper into you.

"'M sorry, (Y/N). 'M sorry, need you. Need more. 'M sorry, need you. S'good, 'm sorry, (Y/N), can't stop," Choso babbled in your ear as he continued to thrust into you, his large hands coming up to grasp your hips with a nearly-bruising grip.

The way Choso angled your hips allowed him to hit even deeper, that perfect spot being massaged continuously by the head of his cock, likely without him even realizing what he was doing to you. All you could do was focus on the feeling of him inside you and just good he made you feel.

Your nails dug into his back as you felt yourself coming close to cumming, your whole body tensing as you practically sobbed out, "'M gonna cum! C-Cho, 'm gonna cum! Cumming!"

Your orgasm hit you like a train, overwhelming you and washing over you in wave after wave. The way your pussy spasmed around Choso's cock made him cum again, yet unlike the first time, he didn't stop his thrusts. Instead, he continued to thrust into you, prolonging your orgasm despite overstimulating himself.

You thought he'd stop once your orgasm subsided, but how wrong you were. Choso kept going, fucking you relentlessly and cumming inside you over and over again, apologizing, whining and moaning your name until he was babbling complete nonsense and tears coursed down his beautiful face from overstimulation. He'd made you cum countless times, and you found your whole body feeling like your bones as disappeared by the time he'd finally pulled out, too tired ad overstimulated to continue.

Neither of you had the energy to get towels to clean yourselves off, but you couldn't care less as Choso collapsed into your bed next to you, his face red and his chest heaving from his exertion. As soon as he laid next to you, you found yourself being pulled into his arms, your face coming to rest against his bare chest as he held you close, your skin pressed against his. Gone was the intense, aroused Choso from earlier, instead replaced by his usual, tender and gentle counterpart. You could feel Choso nuzzling his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent as he held you close, endorphins surely coursing through his veins like crazy at this point.

You sighed as you snuggled in against him, your voice no louder than a whisper, "Jeez, Choso... I don't think you really needed me to guide you."

A low rumble of a chuckle escaped him, and you felt him press a gentle kiss to your temple as he answered softly, "Yes, I did. You helped me learn, (Y/N). Thank you." His expression fell a bit as he continued, "Was it too much, though? I'm really sorry. I just... couldn't stop. Something in me just... wanted to keep going."

"No," You giggled softly, looking up at him with a smile as heat rushed to your face, "It was amazing. I just wasn't expecting you to keep going like that."

Choso shrugged before leaning forward, a lazy grin on his face as he whispered lowly into your ear, "What can I say? You drive me crazy, (Y/N). And now that I know that this feeling is me wanting you, I'll only ever want you more and more than ever before. You're mine (Y/N). And I'll always make sure you remember that."

[jarofstyles]

One More Night of Freedom

.... hey.... So this is another piece of filth! Stripper!Y/N and Bachelor Party!H with his one night of freedom. I hope you enjoy love bugs!

Check out our Patreon for early access and 150+ exclusive writings!

Warnings- infidelity (H cheating WITH Y/N), stripping, dirty talk, daddy kink if you squint, slight anal play. We don't condone cheating irl thanks

WC- 4.6k

-------------

Harry knew it was wrong. So wrong, so against every normal moral compass he usually held, but there was something about the woman in front of him that enchanted him. Made him second guess everything.

It was his bachelor party and his mates had encouraged him- forced him, really- to go to the back room to get a private dance from the one he’d been eyeing up all night. It was hard not to, with her creamy smooth skin, breasts held up perfectly by her bra and those fucking garters around her thighs- it was a major weakness of his. She moved her body like water, smooth and rippling as she worked around the pole. Hair following her like a velvet curtain and a cat like grin, full of filthy promise. His head had been reeling as an unfamiliar feeling rose in his guts and his cock shamefully grew in his trousers. 

The thing was- He’d been trying to talk himself out of having cold feet for months. Proposing was what felt like the next logical step. That’s what her friends had said, what her parents had hinted out. They weren’t wrong, he supposed. Savannah was a good girl, someone his parents approved of, and she was nice. The sex was alright, she didn’t complain, and she was beautiful. But there was something missing. 

That passion. That lust he’d always thought he would feel when it came to his forever partner. Something he’d been convinced wasn’t real. And he was a piece of shit, because watching the woman in the skimpy get up approach him as he sat in the oversized cushy chair, his cock had more interest in her than it had in his fiancè in the last 4 months. 

“Hello.” She purred, syrupy voice warming his bones. “I heard I was specifically requested and with quite a nice tip promised. I can’t help but be flattered.” He could see her skin sparkling, like there was body shimmer sprinkled all over her. The thighs, the chest, her breasts especially- he felt that guilt in his stomach start to dissipate as she got closer to him. She smelled sweet, like coconuts and vanilla, and she stared right back into his eyes. Her lips painted a cherry red, he nearly panted as she placed her knees on either side of his spread thighs and sat on top of him. 

God, he felt like his heart could beat out of his chest. Her warmth went straight to his cock though she wasn’t sitting on it yet, her hair long and brushing his forearm as he kept it on the arm of the leather chair. It was oversized for this specific purpose, he thought. 

“Well, I have to admit to you that the feeling is mutual. I could feel your eyes on me when I was on the stage and I was impressed. Such a handsome man.” Her fingers stroked his jawline, tilting it up towards her face as she moved her hips. He was hypnotized. Eyes dipping to her lips and back up to her heated eyes. “You’ve got me for an hour, now. I think you should introduce yourself.” 

He could barely feel his tongue, but he had to get to talking. She almost intimidated him, sitting on top of him and touching him like she had all the rights to be there. Like he wasn’t about to get married. “Harry. My name’s Harry.” He rasped, managing to spew those words out without losing his tongue. Thank god, because he knew it wanted to do many other things. 

“Yeah? Well, Harry… you can call me Angel.” She purred, slipping her fingers up and through his hair. It was embarrassing when he let out a soft moan, feeling her manicured nails against his scalp. It had been so long since someone touched him like this. His fiancè was sweet, but she didn’t really… do much for him. Not like this. She’d make a good wife, a good mother no doubt, but he wanted more than that. “I don’t usually take offers like this, you know.” The temptation moved from straddling him to standing in front of him, turning around and bending over to brush her ass against his crotch. “I don’t do private rooms but being blunt? I thought you were sexy. We can break a few rules tonight, can’t we?” 

Her body laid on top of his as she rolled her ass on top of him, making him drop his head back against the chair. There was no way she couldn’t feel his cock, not with the way it was straining against his trousers. She moved perfectly against it, her arm coming back to tangle in his hair. Her temple was against his cheek, feeling the slight scruff as she took his hand from where it was clenching the arm of the chair with white knuckles, pulling it to run over her stomach. 

“Usually… we don’t let people touch us. But I think I can make an exception for you.” Her hand was slow as she moved it up, trying to feel for any resistance. It was clear she wasn’t going to make him do more than he wanted- but that was the problem. He wanted. Fucking desperately. It was hard to hold on to the resolve, to remain faithful when the girl of his dreams was dangling herself like a cat going for a string. He wanted to touch and taste and feel. All the things he absolutely, positively should not do. 

“Yeah?” His voice was dark and rough, trying to find his self control and ultimately failing as he let her drag his hand up and cup around her breast. The both of them let out a noise of relief as he squeezed without her urging, continuing her moving on him. “What kind of exception?” 

“Well… your friends told me that you have one more night of freedom. That you didn’t seem like you were getting what you needed in your other situation.” Her thumb ran over his ring finger. “They told me that you needed to pull your head out of your ass and see that it’s a mistake.” Her body moved further up, lips ghosting his jaw. “To put it bluntly, Harry, they wanted me to show you that you could have the attention you want. Don't settle for the first pretty face that someone approves of. Sometimes….” She moaned as his fingers pinched her pierced nipple through the lace of her bra. “Sometimes you’ve got to be reminded of the things you could have.” 

Harry was in a trance. He’d barely had a sip of his drink, having been too enthralled with her on the stage. His friends must have noticed it, and he hadn’t even been sure considering he had stared her whole set. Tipped most of his cash he’d taken out. At one cold sober, and he couldn’t even blame it on anything but his own mind. He hadn’t allowed himself to look at other women, tried desperately to make this work and be faithful but fuck, he was losing. Her supple ass moved against his cock, his fingers plucked her nipple as she was giving him an in. 

“And how am I going to be reminded of that?” He was going to regret this, probably. When he woke up tomorrow and the adrenaline had faded… or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe his mind would be as clear like he had been dying to have it. 

“Like this.” She hummed. “Let yourself do what you want with me, Harry. If you do decide to go through with it… if you cuff yourself to that woman, as lovely as she may be… you’ll have had one final night of freedom.” Her voice was a purr. “Let me take care of you.”

It scared him. Being locked into a relationship he knew he wasn’t going to be fully satisfied with… it wasn’t what anyone wanted, but he felt a little trapped. He’d settled, he knew that, but it hadn’t been so obvious to him until a woman he was truly attracted to came and ruined his plans. It wasn’t fair to put this on her, but it was like looking at his decision for what it was. A mistake. 

He wished he could be stronger. He wished he had more resolve, that his prick wasn’t leaking in his pants as he palmed her tits, that he stopped her from sinking to her knees and undoing the belt his fiancè had bought him for his birthday, that he didn’t raise his hips and help her pull his pants down. He wished he could say he didn’t groan in satisfaction as her hot little tongue ran up the length of his cock, from his sac to his tip with a filthy little giggle, but he did it anyways. 

“Fuck…” she cooed. “Such a pretty cock, Harry.” Her words were murmured as she lapped over the leaking slit. “I’m going to take care of you. Don’t worry about a thing, okay?” She took his hand and pulled it to her hair. “I’ll pinch your thigh if I need to stop for a second. Let go of all that worry and let me take care of you.” 

The guilt that had still tried to roll around in his stomach began to dissipate yet again as she sunk her head down on his length. Taking him down, showing off her skills as he felt the tip of his cock in back of her fucking throat. His mouth fell open as he looked down, feeling her nose brush his tummy before she pulled up, saliva stringing to her lips as she sent him a filthy grin. Harry hadn’t felt that in ages, his fiancè more gentle with the way she gave oral- refined. She didn’t like to do it much anyways  which- it was fine. Everyone had their preferences. But fuck, when she spit thickly on his cock and used her hand to stroke and smear it all over, he remembered just how much he missed a sloppy blowie. How much he missed the animalistic desire, when a person would be so eager to please that they’d put their all into it. 

“Shit.” He hissed through his teeth. “That’s good.” The words fell from his tongue without a second thought and her eyes brightened as she sucked the tip back into her mouth. The soft squelch of her wet hand stroking him was audible, sucking firm on the ruddy tip and her tongue brushed the slit, making his breathing quicken. He was only a few minutes into it and it was the best head he’d ever had. “Take more.” 

The Angel on her knees simply looked up at him, putting her clean hand on his on the back of her head and motioning for him to push. 

Fuck. 

“You- You want me to fuck your mouth.” He rasped, watching as she nodded, humming the best she could around him. How could he say no to that? When his prick was dripping for her and her hand was firmly stroking over the base. He held her hair in his hand, slowly pushing her down as he watched. Her red lips had smeared on his cock and his stomach and he knew he’d need to wash up before he got home and his clueless fiancè possibly saw, but it sent a thrill up his spine. Watching her stretched lips sink all the way down, marveling at how she took it with only a few gags- he was in his own version of heaven. 

“Christ, you’re good at that.” He grit his teeth, pulling her up slightly before pushing her back down. “Let me know when you need to breathe. Fuck, it’s been so long.” His head rolled back on the chair, lifting his hips slightly as he felt her throat flex. She was drooling around him, letting out noises that vibrated against him and added to the pleasure. It was disgusting, filthy, so fucking wrong- and yet he was obsessed. 

She sat like a good girl, even though she was being a filthy whore for him, her free hand gently dragging her nails over his inner thigh. It made him fucking crazy, hissing as he really fucked into her throat. She’d feel it tomorrow, she’d remember taking his spoken for prick into her mouth and changing his whole fucking world view. “Such a good slut for me. Can’t believe you’re taking all of this, fucking Angel.” He slurred, rutting up into her face as she let out little gags and fueled his arousal. 

Giving her a chance to breathe, he relished in the choked sound she let out as he pulled out of her mouth. She panted, pulling on his length before spitting on him. The girl was a fucking wreck, eyes wet with tears and chin dripping with spit but she looked happier than he’d ever seen anyone else taking his cock. It made him think about how she’d never seemed this happy to pleasure him. It was done, of course, but it seemed like a chore. This girl, Angel, which he doubted was her real name- she was enjoying every bit of it. Loving it. “You like sucking me off, don’t you?” He thumbed away some of the mess. 

“I love it.” She admitted, turning her head to press a kiss over his thumb. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to suck a pretty cock. None have been as good as yours.” The girl’s voice was wrecked and it did something to him, the most primal part. “Is this all you want, sir?” Her eyes gazed into his own. “Did you want to cum into my throat? Or….” She tilted her head. “Did you want to do more to me?” Her eyes fluttered as she gave him a soft, coy little look that made his prick twitch in her hand. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

The man didn’t even know that was an option. Honestly- he shouldn’t. This was bad enough. He was cheating, he was fucking up massively, but he couldn’t deny he was drawn to this woman. This beautiful stripper who had given him the most glorious head and let him fuck into her throat. It would be wrong to fuck her. So fucked up, so awful to do this and crawl back into bed with Savannah when he got home- but he couldn’t say no. He really, really needed this. 

“I want to know your real name before I fuck you.” He decided, sealing his fate as an awful- but sexually satisfied- person.

“Y/N.” She mumbled, moving up his body. “But don’t tell anyone else, yeah? I like you…” her lips brushed against his own. “So I’m going to let you do awful, filthy things to me. The stuff the girl at home won’t let you do.” The side  took the lead again and took his hand, cupping it over his cunt. “Don’t waste a tight, hot cunt that’s wet for you. Or… my ass.” She purred. “It’s all up to you. I’m open to anything with a cock like that.” 

Harry moved in a blur. A double check she was okay with it, a condom being produced from the side drawer that she slipped on his cock and her body climbing on top of his, he couldn’t really find a way to stop himself when the mere sight of her had changed his plans, ruined his mental resolve. Her panties yanked to the side, her slick cunt wasted no time. He’d offered to prep her but she shook her head, telling him she wanted the stretch- and he wasn’t going to tell this girl no. 

His mouth fell open as he groaned, watching her cunt spread for him. He had a front row seat as she sat herself on top of his cock, watching it fill her up. She whimpered, nails digging into his shoulders as her tummy jumped at the sharp breaths, but she never stopped. Slowly taking him in, she engulfed him and covered him in that tight, sopping heat that he had been desperate for. She was much tighter than the woman he had waiting for him at home, and the thought only spurred him on. “Fuck me… you’re so tight.” He hissed, hands gripping her ass tight. His marks would be visible on her. She’d stumble home and go to sleep, wake up with the reminder of his cock in her and his hands on her- but he couldn’t have the same. He wished he could, though he doubted he could ever forget this. 

“Just for you.” She purred, pushing him to lean back against the chair. Fully sat on him, she began to grind over him. Whimpering as her clit brushed his stomach, looking at his face as his eyes were moving from where they were connected and her face. He looked almost like he was in pain, but she knew it was pleasure. Getting used to feeling her around him. The girl knew it was wrong to do this, but she never claimed to be a saint. A man as sexy as him should be positive about who he was marrying, because god knew he could get anyone he wanted. “Is that what you needed, Harry? Needed a tight cunt wrapped around your big cock?” She leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Testing her limits. 

Everything about this was wrong, but it had never felt so right being inside of a woman. Feeling her squeeze him as she rocked back and forth in his lap, her breasts brushing his chest and her lips nearing his. He knew kissing her would be the final nail in the coffin, the last straw, there would be no turning back or controlling his urges. But he knew she was the one in control at the moment and he was at the mercy of the beautiful woman and the needs of his leaking cock. “So fucking good, baby.” He panted. “S’all I needed.” 

Y/N beamed, grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling his head back before connecting their lips. And that was game over for Harry. 

He gave in. Submitting to his desires, the last tiny droplet of guilt drying up like water on a hot pan. Sizzling away as the arousal burned hot in his gut, his balls tight and full as she began to lift herself up and down on his prick and her tongue entered his mouth. Sweet like cherry vanilla, moaning into his mouth as she fucked herself on his cock like she owned it. Hell- he had to admit that tonight, she did own it. She was giving him everything that he had been dying for, begging for, but couldn’t have. He’d settled without it for a while but this was the reminder that it could be better- he could have better. 

She was so fucking wet. Harry’d never felt pussy like this before, not with it dripping down to his balls and smearing over his stomach as she whimpered against his mouth. Her hand held his hair and tugged, making him growl against her mouth as he began to fuck into her. Sinking down further into the chair with his feet firm on the ground, bucking into her welcoming, sopping hole as she let out little noises against his mouth. 

“Take me.” She taunted through breaths. “Fuck me, Harry. Fuck me like you’ve been needing.” Lips dragged across his own and he could feel her smile. “She doesn’t give it to you like this, does she?” Her hand pulled harder at the nape of his neck, making him grit his teeth. “Doesn’t suck you nice and messy, doesn’t let you take her pussy like this? How could she waste such a gorgeous cock…” her other hand clenched down on his shoulder, a squeak leaving her as Harry’s hand came down roughly on her ass. “Oh, fuck. She doesn’t let you do that either, does she?” The girl had nerve to giggle against him, suckling on his bottom lip as he snarled. “Do it again, baby. Hit me.” 

Harry felt like he could pass out. Fucking into her cunt without reservation, her filthy words fanning the flames of his arousal and dousing any possible guilt even just talking about her, she told him to smack her ass again. So he did. He didn’t hold back, feeling the sting in his hand but also noticing how she got even more soaked as his length pistoned into her, how she let out a string of low curses before tugging his hair harsher. “Again.” She growled. “Fuck me, Harry. Fuck me like you can’t do to her. Are you going to lock down this perfect cock on someone who can’t use it right?” Y/N was pushing boundaries but she was getting what she wanted, another rough spank that she was sure would bruise. 

“Yes, yes- you know I’m right.” A giggle of disbelief filled the room, along with the slap of wet skin. “You could have pussy whenever you want. Don’t-don’t tie yourself to someone you can’t pound like a slut. That’s what you’ve been needing, isn’t it? Pussy better than that frigid bitch of a wannabe wife-“ the words were cut off as Harry took control. Turning them around, he stuffed her face into the cushy back of the chair and lifted her hips up, making her scramble to hold on to the chair as he slammed back in. 

“Shut the fuck up.” He hissed, tugging her head to the side so she could breathe but holding on the side of her head so she stayed put. “Just shut up and take my cock like the good little whore you claim to be. Fucking slut.” He smacked her ass again, smiling to himself at the fucked out smile on her face. This was the nasty shit he’d been holding back, no outlet to put it in. It was pathetic, he knew it, not going after what he wanted- but this was a wake up call. Women like Y/N existed. Who wanted it just like he did, who taunted and craved and let themself get messy. Didn’t worry about bruises, who asked for it harder. This was his dream woman, if he was being honest. 

“Sorry, Daddy.” She whined. “I’ll be good for you. Just don’t stop fucking me. I’m gonna cum.” It wasn’t a secret. He could feel it, feel her beginning to pulse around his length as he railed her. He was in her stomach, fucking her deep and she took every inch. The thought lingered in his mind, thinking about how an hour wasn’t enough. He needed more of this. He wanted to take his time, to make her whimpery and wobbly in the knees. Make her fall out of work the next day. It wasn’t something he thought she did, but if she would allow it he knew he was going to pay her for every second. He’d been depriving himself of everything he wanted for the idea of a picture perfect life, for what people thought he should have. “You’re going to make me cum…” the warning was higher pitched, her eyes watering.

“I can feel it. God, can’t believe how lucky I’ve got it. Perfect little slut for my cock.” The chair was hitting the wall but the pumping music outside muffled it. His balls smacked against her clit, getting wet with each thrust and making her legs quiver. The girl’s fingers held tightly to the chair he was fucking her into, body lax and giving him then ability to do whatever he needed. “Maybe I’ll come back and take this pussy again. Would you like that? Like being a nasty fuck like this, ruining my plans?” 

“Yes- yes, don’t keep this dick away from me, Harry. I’ll do anything to have it again.” She was cockdrunk and he knew she may not mean it, but it was what he needed to hear. Y/N was doing what he’d needed to have months ago, providing him the mental clarity to see he was making a massive mistake if he went through with this. “She doesn’t have to know. I’ll be quiet, please- come back and see me. Shit.” Her hand hit the fabric, eyes hooded as he gave her what she needed in return. “Or don’t go th-through with it. I can give you what you need- oh my god.” Her words were interrupted by him spreading her open and spitting right over her hole, thumbing over her ass. “Yes. Yes- please, do it.” 

Harry was in awe of her, pressing into the needy girl’s ass with his thumb and watching as her mouth dropped open. It was a domino effect after that. Pushing his thumb in and pulling it out only once before filling her back up, she began to shake under him before letting out a choked moan of his name- she came. Wet and hot, gushing slightly around his cock and making a mess as she came, slick and perfect for him. 

He wished he had more willpower, but it had been so long since he’d fucked properly. Seeing her whine and reach back, finding his arm and digging her nails into his forearm and cumming like a mess around his cock, he was quick to follow. It surprised him how intense it was. Feeling her pulsating hole trying to milk him of every drop, he growled loudly and sloppily thrust into her, looking at the creamy cunt as he unloaded into the condom. His legs felt weak as he slowed his thrusts, breathing heavy and sweat covering his forehead as he looked down at the view under him. 

His dick sheathed by the best pussy he’d ever had, her ass snug up against his body and her blissed out face looking back at him. He was a mess, one that he knew he wouldn’t be able to explain to anyone without making it abundantly clear about what happened, but this was the best he’d felt in months. 

“You okay?” He asked softly, stroking the hair out of her face. “Went rough on you.” His knuckle brushed away the trail of tears. It did something for his ego, he knew, and this would be something he remembered forever. The most beautiful woman looking at him like he’d hung the damn moon. He’d done that to her. It filled him with pride. This was the feeling he was supposed to have after sex. That feeling he’d been going crazy searching for. Not the slight disappointment as soon as the lackluster orgasm faded. Savannah wasn’t a bad woman, not at all- but she wasn’t right for him. 

“I’m fucking perfect.” She breathed out, shaking her head. “Just- don’t pull out yet. I need a minute.” Her voice was weaker now as she slumped against the chair, Harry following suit. Pressing himself against her back, he took the lead and kissed her again, humming at the taste of him and cherry vanilla on her lips. “Are you going to come back and see me?” She mumbled as he pulled back a bit. 

“I’d like to, yeah.” He laughed breathlessly. “Have some things to break off but… I’d love your number, if that’s something you’d be comfortable with.” If he didn’t do this again, he thinks he may die. Dramatic, but his life was changed.  “Mmm…”’she hummed. “I don’t usually do that, but I’ll make another exception for you.”

[a-punchline-on-duct-tape]

things i noticed on my re-read:

- ponyboy has “almost—red hair.”

- johnny can’t say “boo to a goose.”

- ponyboy owes johnny 150$ from poker while they were in the church

- just a HILARIOUS quote “sent from heaven? had he gotten a good look at dallas?” ponyboy micheal curtis is hilarious and i don’t wanna hear anything else

- ponyboy isn’t like his parents, but his brothers are

- the curtis and shepard gang have a weird whistle that means “who’s there?” and people don’t talk about it enough

- dally called ponyboy “sleeping beauty.”

- soda’s letter to ponyboy had so many spelling and grammatical mistakes.

- dally had stubble when he went to get ponyboy and johnny “a stubble of colorless beard.”

- johnny’s crazy about drag races.

- dally thinks everything was cherry’s fault.

- dally has a cousin that lives in the area of the church, and told him it’d make a good hiding spot.

- johnny has a “deathly fear of cops.”

- jerry was too fat to climb through the church’s window.

- johnny was having fun in the church.

- soda wouldn’t quit messing with the reporters, he stole their hats and cameras, and even grabbed a cops gun.

- if johnny survived, he would’ve been crippled.

- two-bit’s mom said they should lock the door because of burglars, but darry just flexed his arms in response.

- two-bit was cleaning eggs off the floor after he knocked them off ponyboy’s pan.

- johnny would’ve been charged with manslaughter.

- soda went into darry’s closet to grab his jeans, and steve followed him in. apparently, “in a second, there was the general racket of a pillow fight.”

- two-bit’s mom is just like two-bit, except she isn’t lazy.

- randy’s thinking of leaving town.

- johnny and his mom look exactly the same, with black hair and big black eyes.

- the only difference is johnny has “fearful and sensitive” eyes, while her’s are “cheap and hard.”

- dallas looked out the window instead of at two-bit and ponyboy when he asked about johnny

- cherry had her hair up and she was wearing a ski jacket when she went to go meet the greasers.

- tim shepard has curly black hair and “smoldering” dark-blue eyes. he also has a scar from temple to chin because a “tramp” hit him with a broken soda bottle.

- tim accidentally stepped on ponyboy during the rumble.

- all johnny had ever wanted was for dallas to be proud of him.

- bob had the same smile as soda.

- greasers don’t eat in the school cafeteria.

- curly fell off from a telephone poll and he broke his arm. the face curly made was the same as sodapop’s when darry and ponyboy were fighting.

- when ponyboy wrote his theme, it didn’t hurt to think about johnny and dally.

[blueiskewl]

Gigantic Skull of Prehistoric Sea Monster Found on England’s ‘Jurassic Coast’

The remarkably well-preserved skull of a gigantic pliosaur, a prehistoric sea monster, has been discovered on a beach in the county of Dorset in southern England, and it could reveal secrets about these awe-inspiring creatures.

Pliosaurs dominated the oceans at a time when dinosaurs roamed the land. The unearthed fossil is about 150 million years old, almost 3 million years younger than any other pliosaur find. Researchers are analyzing the specimen to determine whether it could even be a species new to science.

Originally spotted in spring 2022, the fossil, along with its complicated excavation and ongoing scientific investigation, are now detailed in the upcoming BBC documentary “Attenborough and the Jurassic Sea Monster,” presented by legendary naturalist Sir David Attenborough, that will air February 14 on PBS.

Such was the enormous size of the carnivorous marine reptile that the skull, excavated from a cliff along Dorset’s “Jurassic Coast,” is almost 2 meters (6.6 feet) long. In its fossilized form, the specimen weighs over half a metric ton. Pliosaurs species could grow to 15 meters (50 feet) in length, according to Encyclopaedia Britannica.

The fossil was buried deep in the cliff, about 11 meters (36 feet) above the ground and 15 meters (49 feet) down the cliff, local paleontologist Steve Etches, who helped uncover it, said in a video call.

Extracting it proved a perilous task, one fraught with danger as a crew raced against the clock during a window of good weather before summer storms closed in and the cliff eroded, possibly taking the rare and significant fossil with it.

Etches first learned of the fossil’s existence when his friend Philip Jacobs called him after coming across the pliosaur’s snout on the beach. Right from the start, they were “quite excited, because its jaws closed together which indicates (the fossil) is complete,” Etches said.

After using drones to map the cliff and identify the rest of the pliosaur’s precise position, Etches and his team embarked on a three-week operation, chiseling into the cliff while suspended in midair.

“It’s a miracle we got it out,” he said, “because we had one last day to get this thing out, which we did at 9:30 p.m.”

Etches took on the task of painstakingly restoring the skull. There was a time he found “very disillusioning” as the mud, and bone, had cracked, but “over the following days and weeks, it was a case of …, like a jigsaw, putting it all back. It took a long time but every bit of bone we got back in.”

It’s a “freak of nature” that this fossil remains in such good condition, Etches added. “It died in the right environment, there was a lot of sedimentation … so when it died and went down to the seafloor, it got buried quite quickly.”

Fearsome top predator of the seas

The nearly intact fossil illuminates the characteristics that made the pliosaur a truly fearsome predator, hunting prey such as the dolphinlike ichthyosaur. The apex predator with huge razor-sharp teeth used a variety of senses, including sensory pits still visible on its skull that may have allowed it to detect changes in water pressure, according to the documentary.

The pliosaur had a bite twice as powerful as a saltwater crocodile, which has the world’s most powerful jaws today, according to Emily Rayfield, a professor of paleobiology at the University of Bristol in the United Kingdom who appeared in the documentary. The prehistoric marine predator would have been able to cut into a car, she said.

Andre Rowe, a postdoctoral research associate of paleobiology at the University of Bristol, added that “the animal would have been so massive that I think it would have been able to prey effectively on anything that was unfortunate enough to be in its space.”

By Issy Ronald.

[h4venpha]

i think i find comfort in vashwood because of their unwillingness to say outloud how they care and love for one another. like CANONLY, theres so, so much they dont say, yet their actions reflect everything.

i’m pretty sure i’ve spoke on this before but i like to think that they never say more than they need to because of the world they live in, the type of people they are, the type of upbringings theyve had. it all stems back to them not really feeling worthy of the love they are offered.

wolfwood who only thinks of himself as some fucked up modified killing machine and that he believes theres no chance someone as kind hearted as vash would see the good in him, or what little there is left of the good in him. he’s done nothing but kill, he could never redeem himself, and yet vash isn’t scared nor shuns him for it even with his pacifistic ideals.

vash who has seen the brutal truth of wolfwood’s being and still decides he loves him to the very end.

vash who doesnt believe he deserves any ounce of love or commitment because he only hurts those he gets close to. it’s happened before and itll happen again, like hes a walking time bomb and everything will blow up again and the people close to him will die no matter what he does. and wolfwood who canonly sticks beside him until the end! literally calls himself his guide.

vash who has never had true companionship in his 150 years of living, and wolfwood who follows him to the ends of gunsmoke.

just up until vol10, theyre still toeing the line of the relationship theyve created. but the exact moment vash shows up and chooses to prioritize wolfwood over going after knives (the fucking thing he’s been working towards since the big fall, over a hundred years ago) is the moment he steps past that line. its so extremely open and explicit, even wolfwood asks him ‘why are you here?”

while what he says here is true yes, it also sounds like “you cannot die, i’m here to ‘save’ you because i want to live.”

then to this when wolfwood knows and accepts he will die— the sheer HORROR on vash’s face when he realizes wolfwood wont allow him to save him.

few pages ahead, vash’s monologue starts and these old panels come up. “deep down, he had become very close to me.” basically implying that back then, during the ‘shoot’ moment, they weren’t really close. and when vash accused him: “you’re the coward here.”, “you give up all hope so easily”, it was almost surface level in a way? talking to him at surface level

but now, so many chapters later when wolfwood really does give up hope, vash, with all of his developed love through out the story realizes how differently he feels now. wolfwood made him put a fucking gun to his head (giving up hope), and vash who only scolded and accused him, vs vol10 where when wolfwood gives up hope, vash feels straight terror, that he’s really going to lose him. (also the inverted panel is just so gorgeous.)

the whole “isnt that right, wolfwood?” just proves my entire point that vash’s presence here in this fight steps over the line of vulnerability they had created. he knows how he feels, and he knows that wolfwood feels the same, even if hes speaking to him indirectly.

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field X

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.1k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there

masterlists // nav // requests

a/n: hi all!! i have some slightly annoying news (I'm so sorry) but i think i have to close my taglist for this fic and for other coryo stuff (which i am working on bc I've seen the requests!!) bc its gone up almost 150 people and i can only tag 50 people per post and it is SO much work to tag everyone individually even after i paste them in and i don't want to have to reblog it 2 or 3 times to tag everyone :(. I'm so sorry like i said ik its annoying but if you'd like to be the first to know ab new parts and you're not already in my taglist, feel free to turn on my post notifs!! that way you'll also see everything else including my asks ab the fic where i answer more questions and we talk theories and all that fun stuff :)

next part

Coriolanus was having a hard time adjusting to the life of a peacekeeper, but he was getting there. He sent off that letter for you almost as soon as he arrived, but was yet to receive a response so that seemed like an answer enough. He had to forget you, especially if he wasn't going back to the Capitol anytime soon.

He was homesick, to say the very least. Both of his bunkmates were out, likely working, but he didn't care much to know exactly where. He was just relieved to have a moment to himself to wallow in his self-pity, chest constricting tighter and tighter with every breath.

A door slammed shut down the hall, followed quickly by his own door opening- at which he held his breath. He had to get it together.

"Is this bunk taken?" Someone asks, a voice not belonging to either of his bunkmates, but he recognizes it nonetheless.

He shot up straight, taking in the appearance of the boy in front of him. "Sejanus!" He had never been happier to see his classmate, hopping out of his top bunk to quickly give him a hug.

"This is a surprisingly warm welcome for someone who almost got you killed." Sejanus chuckled, hugging him back.

Coryo laughs slightly, pulling away and grabbing his shoulders. "Oh, no. Quite the opposite. What are you doing here?"

"About the same as you." He shrugs, sliding his things under the bed below Coryo's. "They were going to expel me, but my dad paid them for my grad certificate and let them send me here. They got a new gym on the condition that they let us both graduate."

Coryo should be relieved, but a graduation certificate doesn't matter much if he's stuck here for the next twenty years. "And Y/N/N?" He asks.

"Y/N?" Sejanus asks, lifting his head back in confusion. "What about her?"

"Did she graduate too?"

"I... I don't know, I didn't know she was in trouble. We were told she was sick."

Coriolanus's stomach drops. That's a story he'd certainly heard before, and he didn't like at all how that ended. He swallows, nodding a little bit as he looks at the floor. "So you didn't see her at all?"

"No... Not since the last time I saw you." Sejanus states. It had been a few weeks now. "But, her mother came to our door a week or so ago, real early in the morning. Ma shooed me away but I heard them talking, it seemed like she didn't know where Y/N was either. She was looking for her, wondering if any of us had seen her."

Again, this is what Coryo had seen before with what happened to Clemensia. Her parents weren't allowed to see her at all while she was in the hospital. "I think she's dead." He admits.

"What? What makes you say that?" His friend gasps.

"I... I heard her screaming when I left our meeting with Highbottom." Coriolanus explains. "At first it was normal Y/N screaming, you know, but then it got worse and worse until it just... stopped." He hoped Sejanus would change his story, that he would remember seeing you at school or on the streets or at one of your parent's obnoxious parties, having a good time, and being yourself. That maybe he had just forgotten, but the look on Sejanus's face tells him that didn't happen.

It was Sejanus's turn to look down now, giving a solemn nod. "I mean, no." He laughs suddenly, shaking his head. "They wouldn't kill her on campus- if you could hear it, she's not dead. They wouldn't kill her just like that, right?" He says, trying to convince himself of that truth. "Surely she's just sick. Maybe grounded, or something."

"Yeah, yeah. Probably..." Coriolanus concedes, hoping that somehow Sejanus was right.

Simultaneously, you were adjusting beautifully to life in District Twelve. You got in the habit of borrowing Lucy Gray and Barb Azure's clothes, and they let you sleep on the floor between their beds. For the first time in your life, you were free. No one knew you, no one had a single expectation of you besides Tam Amber appreciating your help with the goats and occasionally going to the market with Lucy Gray and Maude Ivory to get food. It was refreshing, to say the very least. Everyday you felt yourself unwinding more and more.

"Do you play any instruments, Y/N?" Maude Ivory asks you, skipping to catch up to you as you hike down a trail out to the lake with the rest of the covey.

"I do, actually." You nod at her, a small smile on your face. "Try three."

"Three!" She claps excitedly. "What do you play? You'll have to perform with us! Do they have different instruments where you're from?"

"Not really." You giggle, putting your hands in the pockets of your bright red skirt. "I play the piano, and the violin, which is just like Clerk Carmine's fiddle, but much more boring, and a harp, if you've ever heard of that."

"You play the fiddle?" The young girl smiles.

"Not like he does." You smile at the boy as he walks ahead of you, not paying any attention.

"I'm sure you're just as well." Lucy Gray interjects, bumping her shoulder with yours as she walks next to you. "Maude Ivory, you should hear her projection. I'm yet to hear her sing, but boy, can she yell."

"I can't sing." You laugh, shaking your head. "Back home you don't sing unless you're training for the opera, and you have to start that around the same time you learn to walk. My parents would rather me learn the piano."

"Then why am I the one yellin' at all our shows? You should step up." Maude Ivory giggles, and you just shake your head, ruffling her hair.

"I definitely couldn't do it nearly as well as you." You insist. "Besides, I have stage fright." You joke, mostly to get her off your back.

She laughs as she fixes her hair, running to catch up with the kids in front of her.

"She just adores you." Lucy Gray smiles. "It's nice to have a new face around."

You smile, watching Maude Ivory collect flowers from the side of the road. "She reminds me of my brother. They're about the same age."

"Right, you lent me his guitar." Lucy Gray says, a particular sadness in her tone tipping you off that she believes you should be upset about leaving him. You miss him, sure, but he's better off now with you gone. Besides, he couldn't be any worse than you. Your parents have always doted over him, and there's no doubt in your mind that now that you are gone, it's multiplied.

"Yes. That's him." You reply, accompanying a moment of silence between the two of you.

"Do you miss him?"

"Sure." You nod, kicking a small stone down the path in front of you. "But he's better off without me there. That brings me enough peace to sleep at night."

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Shoot." You smile at her, grateful for the change of topic.

"What happened to Coriolanus?" For the first time in weeks, you feel a pinch of discontent in your gut at her question.

"I don't know." You lie, shrugging your shoulders. You don't even know why you felt the urge to lie at all, you knew he was here somewhere but you hadn't seen him once. Out of sight, out of mind is what you have been trying to convince yourself. "He's alive, I'm sure. Peacekeeping in one of the districts probably."

"Oh, I was hoping you would know more."

"It would be nice." You agree. "But he's not exactly in my good graces at the moment."

"It feels so out of character for him to betray you like that, doesn't it?" Lucy Gray asks.

You laugh, shaking your head. "It was unusual. That's what I thought, anyway." You sigh, giving a slight shrug. "I haven't told anyone, but we had... I don't know, a moment, a few weeks ago. During the games. Just a couple of days later and he's throwing me under the bus like I meant nothing to him. We've been friends for years- I thought everything was about to change for the better, and then..."

"That's cruel." She says disapprovingly. "I bet he's sorry now that you're gone with the wind. He's regretting it. I promise you that much."

You smile slightly at the thought, allowing yourself to entertain it, if only for a moment. "He better be."

"Is that for me? Oh, c'mon y'all, you know that I gave up drinkin' when I was twelve..." Lucy Gray says, taking a sip out of the clear liquor bottle someone in the audience handed to her. "Oh, It's to clear my pipes, just to clear my pipes." She clarifies, tossing the bottle back into the audience.

Coriolanus watches leaning against the side wall of The Hob. He's happy to see that Lucy Gray is back to doing what she loved, and she made it home alive and well. He's also more than pleased to finally get off the barracks for something other than work. "Now, who's ready for a song, huh?" She smiles, looking down off the stage to her right. "Okay, comin' right up. First, I'd like to introduce to the stage with a big welcome, a grand ole friend of mine, The lovely Sage!" She says, giggling at her rhyme as another girl climbs up on stage, giving Maude Ivory and Lucy Gray a quick hug each.

Coriolanus looks away as the crowd cheers, scanning the crowd for Sejanus who had just excused himself to grab a drink a couple minutes ago. He's wondering where his roommate could have disappeared to when Lucy Gray's friend starts speaking.

"Well hello, everyone, so lovely to meet you all! I have never felt so welcome anywhere." His head snaps back to the stage. He'd know that Capitol accent anywhere, even as you pause to allow any cheers to quiet down. "I mean that." You grin, hands clutched to your chest. "And that feels so good, considering Lucy Gray all but forced me up here." You laugh, draping an arm over her shoulder, letting her take back over. How could this be real? Coryo is tempted to rub his eyes or pinch himself to make sure he's even awake. He was so sure you were dead, but despite the different name and completely different clothes, he was positive it was you. The pang in his chest made that obvious, along with the wave of surrealism that suddenly surrounded him so all he could see was you.

"Now, my beautiful girl Sage here will be taking over for our friend on the fiddle, we'll give the band a quick break, and we're gonna have a bit of a change of pace while she's lending us her talents." Lucy Gray says, and Coriolanus watches as you take the beat-up violin from the young boy gratefully. He knew you played, but he hadn't heard it for years. You looked so calm, something he wasn't sure he had seen in public since you were young. He can't pull his eyes from your figure as it graces the stage with your presence, lighting up the room even if it was only for him.

A small smile grows on his face as you start to play, several whistles echoing through the room before Lucy Gray even joins in with her singing. He wants to scream, to cheer and clap and yell and tell everyone in this dark, rundown building that this 'Sage' was his. Inarguably and undoubtedly his. Coryo's pride is only curtailed when he recognizes the song; it was the ballad Lucy Gray played in her interview on your brother's guitar.

The sophistication your violin playing brought to the piece almost made it sadder and infinitely more haunting. It's beautiful. Now with your classical touch, the song sets a pit of guilt in his stomach. That somehow, even without you singing, it's now a ballad from you to him.

"Just let me remind you what I am to you..."

He makes eye contact with Lucy Gray as he shifts his gaze away from you. She pauses for only a moment, hands still moving rhythmically over the strings of her guitar. She smiles and nods at him, jaw slightly agape as she glances back at you to see if you noticed him. When it's clear you haven't, she gets back on track with the words within only a moment.

"'Cause I am the one who looks out when you're leaping. I am the one who knows how you were brave..."  Your lips turn up in a small smile as she sings, eyes still shut while you focus. Even though he's sure you're thinking of him, it doesn't bring him much consolation. Well, at least you were thinking of him. He would take it.

The song ends as quickly as it starts, and despite the slower tone, the audience is still excited. More so as the band returns to the stage and you return the violin to Clerk Carmine before turning back around to give a bow. You wave out to the audience, reveling in the whistles and praise before reaching out for an extended hand, accepting it as its owner helps you down. "That was stunnin', where'd you learn to play like that? I've never heard anything quite like it." The man asks, still holding your hand out in between you.

"Oh, thank you. I've been playing my whole life." You grin as the music picks up again.

"Can you dance like you can play?" He asks, lifting your arm to spin you.

"I can certainly try." You laugh, going along with it as he pulls you into a more open space of the crowd, and to Coriolanus, it seems like you're taunting him. You're dancing like you don't have a care in the world, dressed in a skirt that looked like it was made out of a red bed sheet cut up and stitched back together in half-hazard squares, and what looked like one of your t-shirts cut up into a tank top that exposes most of your stomach and back. Appallingly too, a smile present on your face that he had dreamt of seeing again one day but was certain he never would. The only problem is that you're dancing with someone else. Not that he was much of a dancer, but he could try if he had known that's what you wanted.

He's planning his method of attack. He can't leave without speaking to you, because he doesn't even know if you'll be back here the next time he gets a day off. Though, based on your appearance and newfound carelessness, it's likely.

His urge is just to kiss you, but the only thing holding him back is that it could set you off. If you hadn't heard his apology from miles away, would you still be angry at him? But actions speak louder than words. He knows that physicality works with you, and it was hard to deny that he hadn't dreamt of how soft your lips felt on his for weeks. One time was just simply not enough for Coryo.

Coriolanus scowls as the man you're dancing with spins you again, making you laugh as he drapes an arm around your waist.

Maybe he should get Sejanus, see if he's seen you yet.

Another spin, and a hand sliding lower down your bare back as the man pulls you closer, his fingers landing on the waistband of your skirt. When was the last time that scumbag had so much as washed his hands? Coryo wonders to himself, rage boiling up under his skin.

Kiss her. Definitely kiss her.

But if the song choice was any indicator, you definitely weren't pleased with him. It couldn't be, though, because how would you know he would be in attendance? Coryo finds his feet carrying him through the crowd, pushing past a dozen carelessly drunk people in his effort to get to you before he's even thought it all through.

Your brow furrows as a body forces itself between you and your dancing partner. "Hey! What are you-" You cut yourself off, hypnotized by the cold blue eyes staring down at you.

That's my girl. Even though you're angry, Coriolanus is grateful to be the object of your gaze once more.

"'Scuse me, man, do you mind?" The man says, making an effort to push Coryo away. He turns, and before you can intervene he's swinging his fist right at the other guy's face, finding its target in a fraction of a second.

He stumbles back, grabbing his face as it immediately drips blood from his nose onto the floor. There are gasps in the crowd as it disperses around you.

"Hey, settle down, settle down now." You hear Lucy Gray call out amidst the music playing in the background while you grab the back of Coryo's shirt, pulling him back before he continues to beat up your dancing partner.

"Coriolanus, what are you doing here?" You shout over the music. He shakes out his fist, turning back to you now and grabbing your face, pulling you closer to kiss you instead of dignifying you with a response. His actions would certainly speak louder.

You want to be angry, but that falters as you feel his lips on yours again, his hands planted firmly on either side of your waist as he holds onto you so tight you weren't sure breathing was an option- even if you could. You followed him here, of course you wanted to see him, but how could he betray you so easily and expect forgiveness in a kiss?

It takes you longer than it probably should to build up the courage to place your hands on his chest, shoving him back. "What is wrong with you?" You spit, looking him up and down in the blue uniform signified of a peacekeeper off duty.

"What's wrong with me?" He asks, looking around and gauging how many people were even taking notice. "What do you mean, Y/N/N, I wanted to-" Clearly you hadn't heard his silent apology, or it just wasn't enough.

"Hey!" You hiss, jumping at him and attempting to cover his mouth at the use of your nickname, and he quickly swats away your hand. "Let's go. Outside, now." You shove him back by his chest, pointing towards the exit.

You look up at Lucy Gray on stage, still singing as she watches you nervously. You give her a nod and a small reassuring smile before linking arms with Coryo and guiding him toward the door. Just like old times.

taglist: @keziahcore, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @gloryekaterina, @andrewgarfieldsbitch, @queenofspades6, @pepperonipastas, @ladybug0095, @lunamothwrites, @sbrewer21, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @splxtscreen, @unclecrunkle, @karmaswitch, @coconut-dreamz, @nekee-lilac02, @ooooglymoooogly, @riddlerloveb0t, @lovedbalances, @notyourwildestdream, @snowlandson-top, @too-lit-for-fanfic, @utopiakys, @deafeningballoonnacho, @roosterschanelslut, @chmpgneprblem, @cosmoetik, @lauravanderbooben20, @dry0campa, @luclue, @lokidala, @urvampgfsworld, @carolanns-world @nan-nie, @shakespearseclipse, @iovemoonyy, @notyoursweetheart-honey,  @xyzstar, @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland, @queenofshinigamis, @elodiebeau, @soulessjourney

i've closed my taglist for coryo now!! sorry to everyone who wanted to be added, but unfortunately there was significantly more demand than i expected and i sadly just cant tag everyone. BUT! if you still want notifications when i post for this fic, please turn on my post notifs!!

[thegreatestsandwich]

I’m the mess that you wanted (Aemond Targaryen x f!reader)

(He’s so hot I want him to destroy me)

Masterlist

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: Your father made a horrific mistake to gave your hand to another man, let’s just say that a possesive asshole didn’t like that.

Warning: Mentions of cringy sex, really possesive behaviour, read if you want, but if you are a minor, leave! why are you here?!

A/N: I’m so offended that there is a lack of fics about this sexy, hot piece of horrible human being out there. What the fuck guys? By the way, happy 150 followers! I hope I don’t dissapear once again but school and work are killing me.

There you were again, at the edge of a cliff looking at the endless waters, so beautifully dark and mysterious.

The memories from the hours before began replaying on your mind, the words that were spoken moments ago interwinding with the fragrant aroma of the sea. The cold wind caressed your plain dress against your body.

Marriage.

A word you knew even before you could talk, a death sentence to a free soul.

Misery, that’s what this feeling was.

Your hair was carefully swept into a braid, slapping against your skin as the wind tried to sooth the painful news. Sadly, there was nothing it could do to save you from this pain.

Aileas Eithne, first son of the House of Haywood. The man your father deemed a rightful option for you to settled, even though there was another man out there who was more willingly to accept you in a blink of an eye. Even though this marriage was going to be his seventh one.

But your father was a ridiculous man who only seek options that guaranteed you a rightful place within a throne. Not the second son who was nothing more that the title that was given to him. A foolish reason to give your hand away so easily, even more ridiculous as the king himself asked you to be betrothed to his second son.

You felt him before he made any sound but your eyes were still captivating watching how the waves gently moved the few boats there.

His hands gently caressed your arms, you felt his breath against the back of your neck. If only these few last moments you had in this place were to last longer. This was peace. He was peace.

“It’s cold.” He gently move your hair to the side, kissing your neck softly. Not caring if he was seeing by your side. “My sister is wondering where you went.”

You closed your eyes, trying to not lose yourself against his warmth. A sigh escaped your lips knowing the crude lie he was still trying to put you in. There was no going around that matter, life was not forgiving. Even though the man you loved was here from the very start, still waiting for you to accept.

You turned to face him, his eye watching your moves carefully. You tried not to cowered against his stare.

“I have a feeling the princess is quite busy watching the butterfly she caught hours ago.” You tried to even your tone. “Perhaps her dear brother was truly the one who was looking for me.”

A smirk curved his lips. He gently placed his forehead against yours.

“I don’t recall that.”

“Then you are truly blind, my prince.”

He frowned at the sound of his tittle. You almost flinched when he took a step back to watch you. In full honesty, you wanted nothing more than for him to take you away from here and marry you in secret. That was your wish.

“We shouldn’t,” You paused for a second, trying to formulate the correct way to express your father’s decision without enraging him further. “We shouldn’t be alone.”

“And why is that?” He scoffed, his arms crossing at his back. “Why the sudden shyness?”

You couldn’t lie to him, that was the power he always held against you. You sighed again, handing him the folded parchment your father had given you. Aemond took it without a word, rapidly reading the words on it.

You couldn’t read his face, you never could. His deepest thoughts hidden behind the stoic face he always wore.

“It’s official.” You muttered against the wind, your face looking away from him. “My father seal the deal. I’m expecting to leave in seven days.”

Aemond stared at it for a while, his breath becoming more harsh at each breath you took. Would it create a sad memory if you took the initiative this time? To ask him to own you one last time? Would it be that bad?

His hands destroyed the paper in anger. It was in that moment when you really questioned your father’s decision. Would it be that bad to be married to a second son? Someone who would never step a foot at the throne as long as his brother was alive? Would it be that bad?

Your mind began playing a fantasy, trying to seize the horrible silence that prostrated the two of you. You imagined the screams of pain of your father, you could see the murderous look on Aemond’s face when he demanded what was truly his. Gods, you wanted that.

“What is this?” He took a step forward, his hands grasping your shoulders, you could feel the hatred behind his words alongside the pain of his fingers. “Your father said he would wait to hear my offer.”

“I’m so sorry.” You breathed through the fresh tears that began falling from your eyes. From the outside perspective, one would assume the prince was a crazy man, a stupid foolish man. “My father send a raven a few days ago without my acknowledgement, agreeing with sir Aileas for my hand…”

“Do. Not.” He interrupted you. “Do not say his name, do not taint your mouth with another man’s name.”

“It would be best if we end this here.” Your eyes closed when he close the distance from your mouth. He tried to claim your lips but you didn’t let him, opting for turning your head to the side.

“Why should we?” You shiver at his words. “Those words are lies, you are mine.” He nibbled your ear. “Why shouldn’t I claim what is rightfully mine?”

“My father…”

“Should see how his daughter rightfully responds at the touch of her lover.” Aemond stared into your eyes as if he could see straight into your soul. “Let him hear the name of the man who owns your body, let him see that you are rightfully mine.”

“This could end bad.” You tried to protest, trying to stay in focus at the feeling of his mouth against your neck. “This would lead into war.”

“Don’t you trust me to become victorious?” He cupped your face in his large hands, his thumb caressing your bottom lip. “You see me as man who could lose?”

“Never.” You quickly responded, “I am more afraid of the deaths you could cause by your hand.”

He smirked at the answer. “Let me claim you once again then. Here at the open, when any curious eye could wander without restrain.”

“Aemond…”

The prince dipped his head down, capturing your lips with his in a greedy kiss. You moaned at the lingering wine taste. There would be no man other than him that would make you forget him. Nothing would compare at the feeling of his skin sliding against yours. He would eat you alive, and you would let him.

His hands quickly destroyed the braid, fingers quickly untangling the strands of hair away from its confinements.

He turned your face to the side, his mouth kissing his way to your neck. His hands sliding away your dress until you stood naked before him.

Aemond demanded control and you let him have it without question, with him there was no risk of disappointment, with him, you became complete.

He laid you down carefully on the humid grass, covering your body with his, the leather of his pants caressing your legs as he separated them with his knee. His mouth went down to your swollen breast, giving it his complete attention with a kiss. Your hand cupped the back of his head, silently encouraging him to continue. And he did.

His tongue flickered back and forth over your nipple, “That’s it,” he whispered against it, his hand gliding down your skin, making its way where you needed him, easing the ache where you wanted him deeper inside you. “Give yourself to me once again, show me that only I can give you this pleasure. Let me taste it.”

Your hand tightly grasped at his hair, forcing him back to your mouth, he let you kiss him with greed, your hips thrusting against his hand, trying to seek more pleasure. “Aemond…” Whispered against his lips.

“This cunt belongs to me.” He bit your lip. “This body is mine to use, you are mine, and you will take what only I can give you.” He wickedly smile. “You belong to me.”

“(Y/N)! What is the meaning of this!” A shout brought you back, you gasped in horror when your mind recognized the sound of your father’s disgusted screams. Your head turned to the side and finally saw him standing there in shock.

“Aemond…!” You whispered, trying to push him but he didn’t let you, capturing your mouth once again.

“You are disturbing us.” Aemond carelessly answer your father, his face never leaving the confinement of your neck. “Leave us.”

“Get the fuck away from my daughter.” Your father grasped at the prince’s hair, tugging it harshly, managing to get him away from you. “A honorable man agreed to take your hand in marriage and you gave yourself away like a disgusting whore.” He spat at your feet.

You quickly put your dress, trying to cover yourself quickly.

A knife slowly made its way against your father’s neck. The murderous image of your love next to your father made you stay still. “I will suggest you to keep your mouth shut.” His eye made contact with yours, a sardonic smile made its way on his lips. “Leave us, my love. There are a few things your father and I must discuss alone.”

You stayed there watching him, until he mouthed ‘now’ and you left running as quickly as possible.

The halls were almost empty as most of the service was already sleep, you rapidly enter your room, quietly closing your door before your hands tugged at your hair.

You began pacing, the nerves about what Aemond could do to your father was keeping you in a nervous mind set, your eyes looking outside your window, the moon moved slowly so you didn’t know how many hours has it passed since you left.

Your door quietly opened and closed. Aemond watched you curiously. “My love.” He interrupted your thoughts. Your eyes quickly began searching for any injury, sighing in relief when you found none.

“My father…?” You asked him. Aemond smiled, making his way to you, taking your hands in his and kissing your knuckles softly.

“Your father has accepted my proposal, he just needed a bit more convincing from my part.” He softly laughed. “He understood his mistake when he almost deny what belong to me as he gave your hand away.”

“Is he dead?” You crudely asked him, not waiting any longer. “Did you kill him Aemond?”

He shook his head while laughing, softly dragging you against his body, you drew a deep breath as his hand carefully ran through your hair. “Of course not, my love. Even as miserable as he is, I know how important he is to you. I just…needed to show him how much beneficial it would be to marry me instead.”

You searched his face for any lie but found none, your hand caress his jaw, your thumb gently touching his lips, he kissed it in response. “What will it happened now?”

He dipped his head to kiss you but you didn’t let him, pulling away from his face but not from his arms.

“We will marry, and there is no one that will oppose now.”

“How?” You wondered.

“You don’t need to know the details of my conversation with your father, my love. Trust that I took care of it.”

You nodded and he brought your face to his, kissing you with softness, his hands toyed with your neck while yours began unbuttoning his shirt.

Aemond slide your dress, helping you stepping away from it, one of his hands touched your breast once again and you moaned in response as he cupped it in his palm. His thumb brushed over your nipple, humming in delight as you squirmed against his touch. He grinned and took it on his mouth, resuming once again what your father rudely interrupted both of you.

He let you slid his shirt away from his body, tossing it over his shoulder. He pushed you into the bed and he kneeled in front of your open legs. His thumb caressing your tights. You were so wet for him and Aemond was dying to have your taste against his mouth.

You licked your lips as you intently watch him, his hands spread your folds so he could watch you, he sighed in delight as he saw the most private part of your body. “Beautifully wet, and only for me.” He said as he slid his finger deep inside you.

You groaned in pleasure as his finger began playing with your entrance, his mouth followed his finger, you gasped his name as his tongue circulate the same path of his finger.

Your hands grasped at his hair but he didn’t budge as he flickered his tongue against your clit over and over again. You came at his tongue but Aemond didn’t stop, he needed to taste you once again, his tongue entered you, trying to bring more of your taste.

He groaned, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder, forcing you to open wide. His thumb spread you as he gently blow against your body, you shivered with anticipation. Your body betraying you. His tongue seeking more, more and more. “This is how it should be.” He suck your clit. “Your body knows my touch, you responded at my touch. Gods, I love the way you cum on my mouth.”

You tugged at his hair, forcing him to face you, you kissed him and began removing his clothes with desperation, he let you guide the situation for a bit, finding amusing how desperate you were for him to claim you.

He rubbed his cock against your folds, sliding back and forth against them, completely enamored with the way your body coated his erection with your release.

“Aemond.” You pleaded, completely lost in the pleasure.

He enter you slowly, his eye closing in pleasure at the feeling of your body welcoming him. Your legs wrapped around his waist. “Your body is perfect.” He groaned as he began thrusting. “Your body was made for me to own.”

His hands gripped your tights as he began diving into you with passion, he brought his face to your neck, sinking his teeth into the juncture of your throat and your shoulder, marking you as his.

“Aemond!” You gasped his name as he turned you around, placing you on your hands and knees. His hands gripped your hips as he drove again his cock inside you, pounding you with everything he had.

“Mine, you are mine.” He hissed as you tightened against his dick, “You are only mine and you will take what I give you, you will keep my seed safe inside you, you will give me an offspring.” He pushed you against the bed, your cheek rested on the quilt, his hands grabbing both of your wrists. “So beautiful, so full with my children.”

Aemond covered your body with his, his breath against your ear. “Say it.”

You moaned in response.

“Say. It.” He demanded you. “Say it.”

“Yours, only yours.” You moaned.

“Again.” He kissed your shoulder. “Say it again.”

“Yours, please Aemond.” You were so close, you could feel it, you needed it, you needed to be fill with his seed. “Please, please.”

You gasped as you harshly cum, but he didn’t stop, he began chasing his own climax.

He sank his teeth onto your shoulder, the pain prolongating your release as he began to slow down his thrusts until he stood still.

Aemond began kissing your spine. “Mine.” You hummed in delight. “My beautiful wife, only mine.”

“Yours.” You responded back, you felt him smile against your shoulder, he kissed you. “Only yours.”

[tomhollandisabae]

jealous! Ghost, hehe

thank u for your request love 🥰🥰

masterlist

bets and jealousy- simon "ghost" riley x f!reader

summary; a bet placed on your name, soldier after soldier hitting on you a very very jealous ghost.

warnings; angst, fluff, mature language, mentions of sex, violence, english is not my first language, unedited

words; 1.3k

a/n; sorry for the delay, but that time of the month decided to visit me again. i'll try to answer to the rest of the request during this week.

It all went down when one of the soldier tried to hit on you, then many others followed…

You and simon had been in a secret relationship for almost one year now and somehow now had caught on yet, even though you weren't being so subtle.

That became an issue when soldier after soldier tried to ask you out, but you were turned every single one down.

However, you were also unaware of the bet that had been placed on you; whoever gets the girl, gets 200 bucks.

So, of course, there was not a single man that hadn't approached you – apart from soap, price, gaz and graves.

As for simon, the whole situation was getting quite enough on his nerves. It was an understatement to say that he wanted to rip every single men’s tongue, that talked to you, out of their mouth. It wasn't the fact that he didn't trust you, because he did – he trusted you with his life. It was the fact that he didn't trust those men. I mean, why would he? He didn't know them, he had never spoken to them… they could've been spies, people that tried to approach you so to kill you and so on.

Simon was always quite, never being one to make a fuss about something, but that all didn’t matter anymore when he heard about the so called ‘bet’. He became feral. The feeling of jealousy always growing on him and now this… it was his turning point.

He approached you as you were talking – trying to kindly avoid the guy that was hitting on you at the moment.

When you saw Ghost walking towards you looking quite angry, even with his mask on, you knew that things where about to go down real bad.

“Sim—” you tried to stop him, but it was too late as he had already pounced on the guy in front of you.

He threw him on the floor and started punching his face as you were shocked enough to react in any way.

“Simon! What the fuck? Stop it!” You yelled more concern about the consequences that he would face than the guy getting the beating of his life.

“Someone come and stop them!” You motioned towards the soldier that were standing a few feet away from you, looking at the scene in pure delight.

“Hey!” You heard Price’s deep voice from behind you and sighed in relief.

“Hey, both of you! Get your asses up right away! It's an order! Ghost!” Price demanded as now both Soap and Gaz where trying to get Ghost off of the poor guy.

Poor? Nah, he deserved it, but still… it's Ghost!

“Hey man, chill out.” Gaz tried to calm him down.

“Is that what you're doing now huh?” He turned towards the soldiers behind him.

“Is this what you represent? Tell me?” He screamed at them with his heavy and scary voice.

“Placing bets over a woman because she doesn't pay you any attention? You all are a fucking pain in the ass, that's what you are! We are in the middle of a serious mission and that's all you are concerned about!” He ranted on and on.

Is that all he cared about? His men not focusing on the mission? Not the fact that they were all hitting on you? Many thought overwhelmed your brain as you felt quit hurt by his words.

“Ghost calm down.” Price tried to reason with him.

“He is just the beginning” he pointed towards the soldier on the ground “many will follow if this goes on any longer. Now focus on the mission and hope I don’t see you doing anything else.”

You felt like a fly getting hit by a car driving at 150 kilometres per hour. He didn't care about you, only the mission.

When everyone left, he turned to see you but you were already gone.

You had been ignoring him for one week now, only being typical with him and that made him confused. Why did you change so suddenly?

Every time he would try to have a confrontation with you, you would find any kind of excuse to leave or you would address to someone else.

As the two weeks stroke, Simon had had enough so he tried to confront you.

It was late and you had excused yourself to your room when you heard a knock on your door. However, when you opened it, you came face to face with none other than the Ghost himself. Before you could close the door on his face, he pushed you farther in the room and he closed the door behind him.

“Will you tell what is going on?” his voice sounding cold coming from behind his mask.

“Whatever you mean?” you crossed your arms on your chest.

“You know very well what i'm talking about princess.” You almost melted at the nickname.

“trust me I don—”

“why are you talking to me? you've been ignoring me for the past two weeks and it's annoying enough.” He cut you off.

“ohhh that” you rolled your eyes.

But he snapped. He grabbed you by the neck pinning you against the wall as his other hand found your hip and squeezed it firmly.

“don't play with me darling, because you've been a really bad girl lately and that doesn't help your current situation.” You could guess that he was smirk behind the skull.

The bastard…

“get your fucking threats and yourself out of my room. You have no right to be here.” He hissed at him.

“that's not what you were saying every night you were calling me over to fuck your brains out.” That left you speechless.

“well that belongs to the past, now get out.” Your eyes were burning holes through his.

“not until you tell me what’s going on.” he demanded.

“get your fucking hands off of me then” you said and he obeyed immediately, stepping back.

“I mean why do you even wanna know. You don’t care about me” you finally said.

“what? Where did you get that from?” he asked hurt.

“tai weeks ago when you beat that guy, I was stupid enough to think that you did it because you wanted to defend me, even though I’m quite capable of doing that myself, or even that you were jealous, but no. you did it because of your fucking mission. all you fucking care about is your mission, so why even bother with me? i decided to relieve you of myself.” you admitted.

The whole time he was looking at you, not moving an inch.

“who told you I wasn’t jealous?” he finally said.

“I didn’t need anyone to tell me that, I figured it out myself.” He took a step closer.

“I was burning.” He exclaimed “just the thought of those filthy men talking to you and even more the disgusting bet they had placed on your name was eating me alive, but what was I supposed to say ‘get your fucking hand off of my girlfriend’? I didn’t want to compromise you. You’ll get fired once they know we are together.” everything he was saying was making sense.

“i… I’m sorry.” You lowered your head.

Simon exhaled deeply and pulled off his mask, his eyes meeting you once again.

“hey… you don’t have to be sorry about anything. I should have talked to you. I’m sorry for not confronting you sooner.” He placed his hands on your cheeks and his forehead on top of yours.

“do you love me?” your own hands now found his, squeezing them softly.

“I love you more than anything else in this world.” he admitted.

“I love you too si” you said back and he smiled as he leaned further down placing his lips softly on yours.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Gojo's little sister seducing Choso at Shibuya Part ll

Part l can be found here

Pairing: Choso x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,5k

Synopsis: After getting back on track of saving her big brother, (y/n) catches Mahito's attention. Choso has to decide if he continues searching for Yuji or rushed to her aid before she gets killed.

Warnings: injury, near death, lil spice in the end, I hope you're sat, not proofread

Tags: @96jnie @shebibtedmypepnis @chososwhoresblog @sanicsmut @curlynoodle937565 @ifuckfictionalmen @nyahctrl @khaleesihavilliard @xuanzangg

You lift yourself off the ground and straighten your uniform. Back to reality, focus your mind on what’s in front of you. It’s your mission to free your big brother, to protect the others.

What about Yuji, though? Choso made it very clear that he’ll hunt him down. Choso with that striking violet eyes, Choso with that perfect lips that kissed you without compassion only minutes ago. Lord have mercy, how is it even possible for a man to be that attractive? And the way his strong biceps felt under your longing hands…

Stop. You shake your head, desperately trying to tame down your pounding heart. This is not the right time to think about things like that. Is Yuji strong enough to face him? Wherever he is, Megumi should be right by his side. The two of them could potentially make it.

Potentially.

Satoru isn’t far away, you’re almost there. Is it really wise to turn around and look after them? If you free Satoru first, he’ll figure everything out eventually. Satoru is your priority, the strongest of them all. And maybe Choso will have some mercy. After all, you showed him very clearly that not all humans are a threat.

Your feet carry you into the direction of the train station on their own. God, how much you hope to see that man again, that man who swept you off your feet like none other. You melted like butter in his rough hands, glimmering violet eyes burning themselves into your mind.

“When I’m done here, I’ll go find you, Choso Kamo.”

-Choso’s POV-

“Oi Choso, can you hear me?”

He signs, rolling his eyes in instinct. What the hell does that jerk want from him now? He should have never agreed on these stupid communicators.

“Unfortunately.”

“Huh, why are you so mean? Did I do anything wrong? Are you-“

“What is it?”, he grumbles.

Mahito gets on his nerves since they’ve first met. Choso only agreed on working with them because he needs to revenge his brothers. He’d rather talk to you, though. God, how is he supposed to think about anything else but your vibrant smile and the way your heels are clicking so elegantly? You are the most breathtaking woman he ever laid his eyes on for 150 years, the only one that really caught his attention. And the way you whimpered against his lips, completely soaked in water and face lit up in neon purple. The thought alone makes his mind wander…

“Did you know Gojo has a little sister? Crazy, isn’t it!? Well, found her alone in a hallway not far away from the seal. You’ve got some time to kill her?”

Choso’s heart drops immediately, eyes widen at Mahito’s words. Fuck, he found you. Why him? Why did you decide to move on, right into their open arms? Of course, you came here to safe your brother, it’s only logical that you follow their traces. But still…

He can’t let them harm you.

“Hands off, I’ll go get her”, Choso hisses.

“Hmm, let’s have a race, shall we? Whoever gets to her and kills her first wins, what fun!”

No. no, no, no. Even though you showed your skills more than clearly when fighting against him, Mahito is a powerful opponent, maybe too strong for even you. If he finds you…

There is a high chance that he’ll kill you.

“No, wait!”, Choso shouts into the device.

No reaction.

“Fuck!”

With a loud bang he crashes the communicator into a nearby wall. He doesn’t have time for something like this right now. Fuck, he waited for this moment of revenge for way too long.

But you.

Your striking blue orbs linger through his mind, the way you smiled at him so cocky.

“Let’s be…friends.”

His hands clench into fists, mind fighting against his heart. He knows it’s wrong to run after you, to even care about you the slightest. But he can’t help himself.

His feet carry you back into the opposite direction, back to you.

-(y/n)’s POV-

“And who the hell are you, shitface?”, you question, gazing at the man in front of you while tilting your head to the side in a playful way.

He isn’t nearly as handsome as Choso, that’s for sure. But he’s definitely on the same side as him. Is he human? He sure looks like it. But something about him is off.

“Why so rude? This is our first meeting after all”, he remarks and makes a pout.

“Oh I’m so sorry, did it hurt your feelings that I called you shitface? I thought you already knew”, you purr.

“You should look in the mirror. After all you’re almost a replica of Satoru Gojo.”

“Caught me there”, you give in.

“And I’ll beat your ass just like my brother did.”

You yank forward, ready to hit him full force with your bare fist. He doesn’t seem like a strong opponent, definitely not tougher that Choso. But why is he here, then?

Faster than you’re able to react he slams you into a nearby wall, making your vision go dark for a moment. You cough on your own blood, too stunned to speak. That man is a cursed spirit, that’s for sure. And a damn strong one.

Your limbs are already burning like hell when you stand back up, wiping away a trail of blood that escapes your mouth with an elegant smile.

“Not nice to beat a lady this rudely”, you comment dryly.

In the dark, your mind races. Who is this? What is his weakness? What are you supposed to do? If that’s a special grade curse, your chances are pretty ugly. To be exact, none other than Satoru himself would be able to defeat him. Well, at least that explained how they were even able to seal your big brother.

“Well, you’re human. I don’t make any exceptions there”, he remarks.

He lunges himself at you, arms deformed into sharp blades. Over and over, you hide your limbs from his merciless attacks while your mind searches for a way out of your misery. It seems like your cursed energy just bounces off him with ease, despite the power you lunge at him, he parries every slash so effortlessly that you don’t know what to do.

Slowly but surely, your attacks start to get weaker, mind more and more distracted. You can’t keep up with him, it is impossible to escape the bows of his bare hands, slicing your delicate skin open with ease over and over, breaking your bones like sticks.

Suddenly, he grabs your throat and pushes your body against a wall, feet hanging in the air. Fuck, it feels as if he’s crushing your windpipe with the sheer force of his fingers, watery eyeballs feelings as if they’ll plop out any minute. Is this really how you’ll die?

Oh, how much you wish to see them again one last time. You never got the chance to say goodbye to your brother. And even though you were never as gifted and talented as him, he always strongly believed in your abilities. How would he take it, hearing you got killed by a random curse on a random Halloween night in a dark hallway while trying to save his ass?

And what about Choso? You only met him one time, but his words sounded like a secret promise, a promise to see each other again. You just wished you had more time. Fuck, why did he defeat you this easily? Your whole body screams out in agony, sliced open multiple times by his cruel blades.

“Funny, now you suddenly don’t have such a big mouth anymore”, he throws at you, maniac grin plastered on his face.

“But don’t worry, at least you’ll be reunited with your big brother then. A nice little family meeting, right?”

Focus, don’t give up so easily. Your hands fight against his, trying to push him away, to scratch him, to kick him. But your vision starts to get blurry, ears ringing. You need, you can-

You feel yourself fainting away into sweet darkness.

Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe Choso is better off without you, going his own way.

Choso’s eyes widen in pure horror when his dark premonitions come true. Without thinking twice, he slices Mahito’s hands off, your numb body falling to the ground roughly.

“That’s cheating!”, Mahito cries out in frustration.

You gasp for air like a fish on land, lungs slowly but surely filling themselves with life again. Fuck, this was really close. What happened? Why did he let go of you?

“Get your disgusting hands off her.”

Your heart stops. Choso.

He walks towards you, eyes scanning your figure. You are severely injured, but still conscious. He needs to get you out of here as soon as possible. If Mahito hits you one more time…

No, he can’t think this through. Despite the countless lives he took, all the lives that vanished in front of his eyes, the thought of losing you seems unbearable.

Why does he feel this way? What has gotten into him to start a fight over a human woman he knows for maybe an hour? This is reckless, this is dumb-

This is all he’s able to think about at the moment.

With a swift motion he lifts you up in his arms, your weak head resting against his broad chest.

“Choso?”, you breathe out, lids desperately fighting against the urge to close.

“What you up to? Do you like her? I mean, for a human, he has a pretty nice face and really mesmerizing hair and eyes but…she’s the enemy, Choso. I’m sure Geto doesn’t like hearing about this.”

“I don’t give a damn about all of you. I need her to fulfill my own mission, so stay out of it”, Choso hisses through gritted teeth, walking past Mahito confidently.

“I really don’t have a good feeling about this!”, Mahito shouts behind both of you, but Choso is already on his way back into the lonely hallways of the train station.

“What are you doing here?”, you mumble.

Fuck, everything hurts. You are pretty sure that that fucker broke a few of your ribs, let alone the countless wounds he inflicted on you. Damn, you almost died. If Choso didn’t show up…

“I came here to save you”, he explains briefly, eyes focused in front of him.

“I don’t need a prince in shining armor”, you mutter along with a weak attempt to free yourself out of his grip.

“Pathetic”, Choso notes.

He lets you down gently, his hands lifting up your skirt just enough to inspect your wound along with making your lower body screaming in excitement.

“Don’t be shy, you’re totally allowed to touch me handsome.”

“Would you just stop saying such things?”

Again, that cute little blush creeping up his cheeks. Oh, how much you longed to see him again. Even though you didn’t plan on meeting him so soon. God, the pain throbbing through your whole body seems to eat you up alive.

“Y’know, I have nothing against repeating that one part of our last encounter…”

“You mean me throwing you against the wall?”, he grumbles.

“You can throw me into bed anytime.”

“Damnit (y/n).”

He stops in his tracks, hands grabbing your shoulders while his eyes seem to pierce through you.

“I’m really trying to focus but you’re making it hard for me when you’re saying such things. You are injured and need to be taken care of”, he clarifies.

“I’d love you to take care of me.”

You grin like an idiot, making Choso almost lose what’s left of his self-control. How is it possible to look so damn fine and have a cheeky mouth after being severely injured? Don’t you understand that Mahito would have killed you right on the spot if it wasn’t for him?

“Can’t you be serious for once?”

“Thank you for saving me”, you suddenly blurt out.

His eyes soften.

“I just don’t understand why. I know you were on your way to kill Yuji. What made you stop? Why were you even there?”

“Mahito told me about your presence. I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

His very own words sound so dumb in his ears that it hurts. Damn, he knows you for a few hours, you are one of his enemies. Why is he kneeling in front of you, why did he even save you in the first place? It shouldn’t bother him, you shouldn’t mean a single thing to him. But the way you look up through your wet lashes with doe eyes, mouth slightly parted…

He can’t help but give in. Gently, he presses his lips against yours, careful to not hurt you. Fuck the rules, fuck the others, fuck the mission. His intuition tells him to pull you closer, let his hands roam through your hair, kiss you with so much passion that he can’t catch his breath.

Are you dreaming? The way his soft lips feel against yours sure make you feel this way. Instinctively, you wrap your aching arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, feeling him even better. Oh god, how much you needed this. Your heart screams at you like never before, butterflies invading your stomach. This feels just right. Yes, that is all you ever wanted.

“Choso”, you whimper into the kiss.

Hearing his name out of your sweet mouth simply drives him insane. He has to have you. No, he fucking needs you. Something about you tells him that you are special, that there is no way he’ll let you go again. Maybe it is time to switch sides. Maybe he should listen to your side of this story. Maybe, just maybe.

“You’ll be the death of me”, he mumbles against your parted lips, fingertips caressing your cheek.

“Let’s die together, then”, you reply, pulling him in roughly for another passionate kiss.

-Bonus-

“Tell me this is a joke, (y/n)”, Satoru mutters, staring wide-eyed at Choso’s and your intertwined hand.

“Well, a lot happened while you were resting your ass”, you remark, eyes fluttering by a glimpse at the breathtaking gorgeous man next to you.

“Don’t worry sensei, he’s my big brother!”, Yuji reassures, making you nod proudly.

All your big brother is able to do is stare at you with his mouth hanging open.

“How often did I told you to stay single?”, he questions.

“How often did I tell you that I don’t care?”

“He’s a bad guy, he murderer countless people, (y/n)! Use your brain just once!”

“I always told you I’m into bad guys. Come to terms with it.”

Choso wraps his arm around you, pressing your body against his firm abs.

“Let’s go somewhere more…exciting”, you mutter, eyes darken.

“Oh god, I wish I never saw that. Please kill me right on the spot”, Satoru cries out in disgust.

“Nothing easier than that…”, Choso comments dryly.

[octuscle]

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

There are holidays that I'm convinced the world doesn't need… St. Patrick's Day, for example. I think it's perfectly fine to be proud of your heritage. I mean, I have an Italian grandmother. I'm totally proud of that. She makes the best pasta in the world. Hehehe, if you look at my belly, you can tell.

You see St. Patrick's Day parades on every channel. It's pure brainwashing! I look at my stomach again… Maybe I'll use the day to do something for my fitness. The streets are full of happy people. Intrusively cheerful people with funny green hats.

The guy at reception is wearing a green T-shirt. And has a shamrock painted on his cheek. I could puke. "Hi mate, nice to see you. Not much going on today. But we'd like to take a few pictures for social media later. Something along the lines of today-we've-trained-in-green. Would you wear this tank top for training?" He holds something green out to me. Fortunately without a shamrock or a funny gnome. It looks like a rugby jersey. Maybe a little big. I smile painfully. "Mate, give yourself a jolt! I'll give you a protein flat rate and free training for three months!" You don't care about the protein flat rate. But free training for three months… You'll save a good 150 dollars. Then it won't be so bad that you come here so rarely.

"Come on, give it to me!" you say and give him a fist bump. Fist bump? What's wrong with you today? All right… Put on your jersey, half an hour on the cross trainer, then maybe a bit of chest training. And then that should be it. And if you absolutely have to post pictures of it. You go to the changing area. Yawning emptiness. Exactly to your taste, actually! You undress, put on the sweatpants and then the jersey. You take a quick look in the mirror. An overweight quarter-Italian in a green rugby jersey. You doubt that this will bring the gym even one new follower, let alone a customer.

You usually start on the cross trainer with low resistance. Today you can try something new. It's empty, no one is watching, you can't embarrass yourself. So you go to the rowing machine. You have no experience with that. So you hit the maximum resistance. And off you go! After half an hour, you wipe the sweat from your forehead. Your jersey sticks to your chest, soaked with sweat. The gym employee stands in front of you with a grin. "Bro, those were some really awesome shots! What are you up to now?" You grumble that rowing is a good base for lat training. And that you're currently doing antagonist training. So combine it with chest training. "Nice, that should make for great pictures." You don't give a damn that the camera is following you the whole time. Focus on the training. And finally, no consideration for others. Moan and grunt when you feel like it. And today you're lifting the heavy weights. That requires a loud scream or two.

Shit, you've been here for almost three hours. You're done. You shout to your gym's social media representative that it's time for the final show. You take off your slightly too tight jersey with some difficulty. And wring out the sweat. You smile at the camera and say "Happy St. Patrick's Day, bros! Stay focused and train hard!" Your buddy gives you a fist bump and says it was a lot of fun with you again. You hand him your cell phone and ask him for a photo. For your own account.

Caption: "Is as Éirinn a thagann fir réadúla i gcónaí! Buailigí, a chairde, agus go raibh Lá Fhéile Pádraig iontach agaibh!"

[matan4il]

IDK how to write today's update post. There were so many things I meant to include info about, but now everything pales in the face of the terrible news we got this morning.

At least 24 Israeli soldiers were killed in the last 24 hours in Gaza.

Here are the faces of some of them:

The terrorists responsible for most of these deaths, attacked in a spot just 600 meters (0.37 miles, with the border breached on Oct 7 in the middle) from a southern Israeli community, Kissufim.

[this paragraph is for the people spewing hate, on and off anon : if you read the news and smiled to yourself, or felt any kind of joy, I want you to know that's vile. It's devoid of any morality or humanity. You can tell yourself and others that you're for human rights all you want, but if you feel joy at the death of human beings, human beings who had the right to live (and would have lived, had it not been for the terrible massacre Hamas carried out on Oct 7, which the terrorists promised to recreate repeatedly, targeting Israelis and Jews alike), then you're not for human rights. It's just an excuse you use to be able to publicly celebrate the death of Jews, and of non-Jewish citizens of the Jewish state who defend their fellow Jews. It's just the same, age old antisemitism under a new guise]

IDK how to explain what that number does to me, as an Israeli, as a Jew, as the granddaughter of Holocaust survivors.

I still remember the morning of Oct 7, as the news started pouring in. First, just talking about the rockets, they had no confirmation of casualties yet. Then, we got the news of one elderly woman, killed by a rocket as she left her home to open the communal bomb shelter for others to use. Then suddenly it was 5 dead, then 10, then 22, along with the news that Palestinian terrorists from Gaza have invaded Israel's south.

And I knew then that the number is going to be higher. The way it normally goes with news of terrorist attack, is you first get a big number, those killed immediately or shortly after the attack, and then there are a few more wounded who don't make it. Basically, there's a big number, and then a small adjustment. Something like... first hearing about the 10 immedaite casualties of an attack, then the number is adjusted to 12 or 13 in the following hours, or days. But here, the jump in the number of dead from 10 to 22 told me we're not in the "small adjustment phase" yet. We're still in the "counting the initial big number phase."

That was so hard, because 22 was already hard to deal with. Up until Oct 7, if I remember correctly, we had lost 38 people in 2023 to Palestinian terrorism. That was already considered the bloodiest year in terms of terrorism victims since the second intifada. People were already grieving, asking questions about what was going on, talking about how the renewal of certain (American) funding to Palestinians (such as the Palestinian Authority's Pay for Slay program) was causing this surge in murderous activity, and what can be done to change the situation. To lose 22 people in one day meant that the number of 2023 terrorism victims was almost doubled already... and we were not yet done counting our dead. The grief and loss of almost 9 months and change almost doubled in a day... and it was likely about to grow.

The number of dead kept rising. We jumped from 22 to 50. From 50 to 100. Then 200. Still no sign of getting to the "small adjustment phase" and it was hard to breathe with every new update. We got to 300, and it was almost unbearable. Then 450. A jump of 150 dead. There was no way to process it, no way to really comprehend it, and the worst was always that the jumps in numbers between updates meant we're still in the "counting the initial big number phase." Somewhere after 600 and before the next update, I realized from an interview (nothing official, just the implication of what one person, who was in the know, said) that it was not going to be less than 1,000 people killed. And I no longer felt like I could contain any of it. The horror, the grief, the shock, the struggle to comprehend that this is real, and not the worst nightmare I've ever had.

At least 1,200 people were murdered during Hamas' massacre. It's been over 3 months, and when I write that I didn't know how to contain everything I was feeling back then, I still don't. So you might think, what's 24 people in comparison to 1,200 dead? But that's not how it works. The death of one person does not pale in comparison with the death of the many.

When I work on Holocaust research, and I work on the testimony of one Jewish girl, who had to watch her father being beaten in front of her eyes by Nazi-collaborating Italian fascist soldiers in a concentration camp in Libya, in northern Africa, when I try to process what the murder of just one parent, just one person means to her, I know it's the destruction of her whole world. It doesn't lessen the pain, that the number of Jewish Holocaust victims outside of Europe is "just" in the thousands, while in Europe it's in the millions. One death can in itself be impossible to bear.

And here's the thing. Those deaths and their impact accumulate. We didn't just learn today that we lost 24 soldiers. We lost 24 worlds (because as the Jewish saying goes, "He who kills one person, it's as if he killed the entire world, and he who saves one person, it's as if he saved the whole world," Mishna Sanhedrin 4.5) and we lost them as a part of now over 220 soldiers we lost in this war (see below a map of Israel with a red dot for every place where at least one soldier was killed), which was forced upon us with the murder and destruction of over 1,200 worlds, which comes after 75 years of a conflict we didn't want, in which we lost 28,000 worlds, and that followed a genocide in which we lost at least 6,000,000 worlds, and that in itself is the peak of almost two thousand years of persecution, during which the full and total number of Jews lost, of worlds destroyed just because of antisemitism, will never be known. All I know is that the Jews we know today, we're not the Jewish people. We are what's left of the Jewish people. And we will live. Am Yisrael Chai. Always. In the face of countless attempts at our destruction, we're still here. But we remember them all. Every single soul lost. Every world destroyed. Every child that had been murdered, every child that will never get to be born. We have lost 24 worlds today, and the fact that we have lost so many before, only makes the loss worse.

And we would not have lost a single person in the fighting in Gaza if we had actually been guilty of the crimes they accuse us of. We could have wiped out all of Gaza from the air, without risking the life of a single soldier on the ground. Every one of the Israeli soldiers killed, died to protect Israelis, as well as to save Palestinian civilians.

The way I feel right now, I think about the words of one member of Kissufim who I heard today: "We are broken, but strong."

May the memory of those lost be a blessing, every single one of them, every Jewish person, and non-Jew killed for standing with Jews, in every generation.

You're all still with me, I carry all of you in my heart, always.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[sugar-grigri]

The ambivalence of life: the massage metaphor 

I'm going to get straight to the point: Denji is perfectly right to want to suffer - it's precisely what he lacked in his 'normal' life.

To understand this, let's go back to the chapter.

Introducing Denji as a CSM wannabe right at the start of the chapter isn't as insignificant as you might think, because this chapter helps to differentiate between CSM and a CSM wannabe.

After all, Denji could very well be one, and chapter 150 makes it clear that the protagonist's dream is to be a CSM, so he literally wants... to be a CSM.

But in order to become CSM himself, we have to understand what CSM is. And that's precisely where the difference lies between a CSM wannabe and Denji as CSM.

Part 2 has repeatedly shown that 'CSM' has become a marketing product, an idol for young people, a source of detestation for others, like express usurpers who have taken to the stage. In short, CSM's identity began to become more diffuse, questioned to the point where it seemed to escape Denji. So what is CSM? 

Well, let me ask you this: what's the first thing you think of when I mention CSM?

Most fans will cite the most traumatic and tragic chapters, shuddering at the mere mention of volume 9. There's your answer: suffering is the secret of CSM's identity. 

But let's move away from this more meta side, and get back to the chapter. 

I know that Nayuta being pushed aside and put in her place stung some people's hearts and it hurt me too! But Denji is right to push her away, cruel as that may seem. Because the complexity of Denji and Nayuta's relationship also lies in the fact that their relationship can have several negative sides.

Firstly, Nayuta is and remains the demon of control, a demon who can't help but have a hold, even over those she loves. And she has done this with Denji on one occasion: when she forbids him to see Asa again.

She forbids it out of a desire to protect him, fearing that Denji will be taken in by yet another girl. This reaction depresses Denji, but he regains hope by acting as CSM, motivated by Nayuta herself because CSM is admired and loved by people. The first instinct at this stage would be to think that this is a bit contradictory: why push Nayuta away when she's the first to admire and encourage CSM? 

Because she hasn't grasped what CSM is all about either. I'll expand on that later, but for now, keep in mind that suffering is intrinsic to CSM. Even when she prevented Denji from continuing his story with Asa, she was preventing Denji from suffering, in itself, from experimenting. The same experience can be just as beneficial as it can be negative, and it's part of the game of life not to know the outcome of a relationship, otherwise you wouldn't go with others.

And that's what Nayuta has done, the demon of control has a happiness that's enough to be two, it's a demon that risks being alone so much that a single loved one is enough to make her happy. But that's Nayuta's idea, not Denji's. 

I'll come back to this a bit more, but for the moment I'm still going to follow the chapter. Denji almost comes to thank Barem and the others for burning down his house and his pets, but he's also aware that morality is being undermined and even talks to Pochita about it. And that's fascinating. 

Even though it may seem horrible, the loss of his animal family allows Denji to realise that he needs this suffering in his life, for many reasons. If Kishibe judged Denji as a man made to kill demons, it's because suffering makes him gloat, because it's the most intense experience he's had in his life.

Transforming himself into a CSM is a way for Denji to confront suffering; he has even internalised it since he was a child, making his body suffer to pay off his debts.

CSM is a creature made for suffering. When Aki became possessed by the Gun Devil, CSM was the culmination of Denji's suffering, his demonic form killing his brother. Just as Denji transformed into Pochita was saved by a dying Power.

The foundations of Denji, Aki and Power only consolidated Denji's relationship with suffering. This double facet, between love and suffering through grief. Pochita is another example, because becoming CSM was followed by an experience of mourning, the loss of Pochita who had merged with him. 

Suffering is as intrinsic to all species as are death and love because suffering is the result of both, the love we have for others is the cause of our suffering when they die.

CSM is this universality, with Pochita sacrificing himself to prevent Denji from dying, suffering every time the cable is pulled. And instead of fighting it, CSM uses it as the engine of his chainsaws. When Nayuta says that this is not the time for chainsaws, she wants to prevent her brother from suffering. But Denji understands that it's precisely when he's suffering that it's time to be CSM. 

Having your head and arms brutally chopped off hurts, fighting demons hurts, in short, transforming into a CSM physically hurts and must hurt. Imagine having a cable cut in half across your torso: it hurts, so why pull it? That's why Denji IS CSM, because it's when it hurts that he realises he wants to be CSM? 

Hybrids don't exploit this pain, demons like the Eternity Demon are even afraid of it, and that's what explains CSM's superiority: suffering exalts him and he uses it as a means to fight. When Quanxi cut off the weapons' heads, it was enough for them to admit defeat, while Denji calmly puts his head back on, not giving up the fight. 

Weapons can't die, but they can see others die, just as suffering can't escape them either. Either they see themselves almost as demigods, as prophets, or they can see themselves as great knights out to save the world.

Denji knows how to exploit his nature; he drinks blood at the slightest opportunity, tries to devour like a demon and is not afraid to use it, unlike the other hybrids. (Quanxi is an exception)

As the spear weapon starts to provoke CSM by saying to really scare them, CSM exploits being sliced in half. Suffering is the fear of weapons.

The whole thing also has a symbolic force, because we've been trying endlessly to cut Denji in two, his human life on the one hand and his life as CSM on the other. Cutting CSM in two won't do him any good, all he has to do is pull his cable.

But above all, the comparison with massage is a very good one, because it sums up life, this combination of good sensations and not-so-good ones. This is precisely what pitted Denji against Makima, that bad films or bad facets of the world and humanity must exist.

This time, part 2 doesn't boil down to this ideology; what Denji is saying is that to live is also to suffer, to be happy is also to have been unhappy. All these things are not mutually exclusive, they go together. 

That's why Denji wins against the weapons, because he won't fight against the suffering they'll put him through, he'll use it to the full, knowing that behind it all there'll be a good feeling. And that seeing the positive side even in pain is nothing other than hope.

Denji himself says that life is a superposition of all these facets. There are things we may never get over, but they don't stop us from moving forward. That's why this chapter is incredible, because Denji doesn't accept suffering as a demon when he's fighting, he wants to accept it in his life too, Denji's life, he has to experiment without Nayuta's permanent approval. 

Denji has lost many people close to him, including his pets. It is precisely through their loss that he wants to suffer. Because suffering is the privilege of the living.

Chainsaw Man is nothing more than 2 entities reunited to survive together.

CSM's laughter is symbolic of this, and chapter 151 made an explicit reference to chapter 82 when Makima starts laughing despite the paroxysm of suffering for Denji, who has just seen Power die. What Fujimoto does is bring together the previous antagonist and the protagonist, to bring out the essence of his work.

Both Makima and Denji laugh despite the horror of the situation as the mask finally comes off, Makima presents her plans and Denji realises what Chainsaw Man is. In short, laughter is the symbol of letting go, as the mask finally comes off. And all this sums up Chainsaw Man, this confrontation between comedy and tragedy, this strange association.

Readers, don't fight the suffering of the characters either, you're reading CSM precisely because of it. You want to suffer just like CSM. So have fun with it.

[little-diable]

In Another Life - Jasper Hale (smut)

After I got a sweet anon request as well as @omgbrcat lovely one, it only felt right to combine these two. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Jasper had once loved a woman, ready to marry her, but time hadn't been on their side, ripping her from their life before she could be his. But now, almost 150 years later, he runs into her again, set on keeping his promise.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, mentions death and abuse (nothing explicit), love through times, throwback to cowboy Jasper, fluff

Pairing: Jasper Hale x fem!reader (2.9k words)

Stars were covering every inch of the sky, twinkling above as if they were trying to communicate with him. Jasper found himself staring up at them, hands interlocked in his lap, head resting against his saddle. It had been another day filled with riding, making his way through the uneasy territory. 

He was working against time and knew that she could slip right through his fingers if he didn’t make it in time. Perhaps it was his own goddamn fault, he shouldn’t have made any promises, shouldn’t have told her that he’d find her before her parents could marry her off. 

But as her letter had found him, begging him to come home to find her quickly, he had known that their end was close, he could almost taste the bitterness on his tongue, could almost feel her salty tears pressed against his thumb as he wiped them away. She was everything he had always worked for, the one he would die for, there was no way he could lose her, not in this lifetime. 

With trembling hands he reached for his pocket, tugging on the crumpled piece he always carried with him. A picture of her, perfectly capturing that beautiful laugh he could hear ringing in his ears whenever he needed to feel her close. God, she was his everything, the one whose hand he wanted to tie to his with the ring he carried with him, the golden ring with a Jasper stone. 

“Hey,” Emmett slapped his hand down on Jasper’s shoulder, ripping him out of his thoughts. They were waiting in front of Carlisle’s office, ready to drive home together after another dull day. Jasper had his golden eyes set on a woman a few seats down from them, a woman whose sight alone could resuscitate his dead heart. 

“Do you see that woman?” He should have known that Emmett wasn’t one for small movements, staring at her all too obviously. Jasper had to bite down his groan as his eyes fluttered close for a second.

It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be her. 

“She’s pretty, you should talk to her.” Emmett wiggled with his eyebrows, gaze flickering between Jasper and the woman, but Jasper didn’t give in, holding still as he flexed his fingers. With a sigh leaving him, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a picture Emmett had never seen before. Before Jasper could even begin to explain his distraction, Emmett had already ripped the faded-out photograph from his hands. “Damn, she looks like her!”

“She does.” Jasper’s throat felt all too choked up as if he was thirsty for blood – unable to speak before he got to feast from the red river. He had never been able to shake his grief, held back by the memories that followed him around daily, memories he had only shared with Edward, unwillingly that is. 

“(Y/n)?” Carlisle had opened the door, calling out the name as his eyes wandered from his sons to the woman sitting close. Jasper could only watch as she rose to her feet with a soft smile, walking past him and Emmett before following Carlisle inside. 

“Carlisle?” Emmett caught Carlisle's attention before the doctor could follow her inside, wordlessly asking him to come closer. The doctor murmured something to (y/n) before closing the door and stepping towards the two men. “You won’t believe this! Jasper dated a girl like her back in the day, we need to get them together!”

Emmett reached the photograph out for Carlisle to study it as Jasper rose to his feet with annoyance fuelling his every movement. Decades ago he had accepted his fate, forced to swallow down his anger to accept that he’ll never have her, holding her dead body all through the night. 

“You know,” he could only whisper the words as he held her close. “I would have asked you to marry me today. It took me a while to find a fitting ring, but I’m sure you would have liked this one, darlin’.”

With his eyes flickering down to the ring, he let go of a sigh. Her mother had cried against his chest, begging for forgiveness he hadn’t been able to grant. Time hadn’t been on his side, arriving too late to rescue her from a drunkard whose patience had run out way too quickly, ending her life before he could come to her. 

“In another lifetime I’ll marry you, I promise you that, darlin’.” 

“Jasper?” Carlisle stepped out of his office with (y/n) cautiously following him. “Would you mind showing (y/n) around? She’s new in town, I told her you could tell her a bit about the history of this place.”

He struggled to look at (y/n), remembering the face he’d see every single day, forced to accept that she wouldn’t ever be his. Jasper could only nod his head as he rose to his feet, stretching his cold hand out for (y/n) to shake. 

“Cold hands run in your family, huh?” The second he heard her voice for the first time, Jasper was sure he'd faint any second now, it had the same drawl, the same rumble he hadn’t heard ever since that time over 150 years ago. 

***

“Are you sure you don’t want something to drink, Jas?” (Y/n)’s voice echoed through her apartment, preparing herself a drink as Jasper got himself comfortable on her couch. It had been a few days since their paths had crossed, instantly clicking as he had showed her around town, guided by the thick grey clouds and drops of rain. 

“I’m good, thank you, darlin’.” He loved the smile tugging on her lips whenever he called her that, enjoying the way he held the same power over her as she held over him, guiding the two closer together with every passing day. At first it had almost been scary how similar (y/n) was to her, reminding him of all those loving memories he had never been able to shake. By now he was simply grateful for getting a chance to feel (y/n) close, struggling to keep a respectful distance. 

“You’re quiet today, what’s going on in that head of yours?” (Y/n) sat down next to him, she reached for a blanket to throw over them both. Slowly she had adapted to his cold body temperature, trying to stop herself from shuddering whenever he touched her, torn between the unfamiliar longing she felt and the coldness he emanated. 

“Too many things you’d call me insane for.” The raspy chuckle clawing through Jasper spurred on her curiosity, forcing (y/n) to shuffle even closer. Her eyes wandered over his features, taking in every inch of his handsome face, but especially the lips she wanted to feel pressed against hers. 

“Now you have to tell me, you know how nosy I can be.” He felt her body pressing against his, subconsciously searching his closeness. Jasper found himself torn, torn between the chance of letting her in on the family secret, on the memories he desperately wanted to share with her, and the danger of her running from him, a danger to every member of his family. “Is it that bad? Are you secretly married with two children? Am I falling in love with a criminal?”

For a second, neither of them moved, caught by the confession she had spoken before thinking twice. Her wide eyes found his darkening ones, squealing in surprise as Jasper pulled her into her lap. Carefully he cupped her warm cheek, pulling (y/n) in for a kiss. Their lips moved in sync, careful at first, having to adjust to the new sensation as her heart kept picking up its beat, begging him to pull her even closer. 

“In love, huh?” He rasped his words against her lips, leaving (y/n) chuckling as she hid her warm face in the crook of his neck. Jasper wrapped his arms around her middle, eyes set on the window that gave view of the pouring rain, of the forest she lived close to. 

“What would you say when I told you that I have been alive for longer than you think? What would you say when I told you I have already loved you in another lifetime m?” She froze in his grasp. Jasper had expected her to break out in laughter, to make fun of him for speaking insane words like these. But she didn’t, (y/n) kept quiet in his hold as different emotions began to flush through her.

“What do you mean by that?” Slowly she pulled away, still sitting on his lap though with her weary eyes focused on his face. Jasper held eye contact as he reached for the photograph he had shared with Emmett and Carlisle days ago. Wordlessly he pushed it into her grasp, watching (y/n) study the woman with dilated pupils. “She looks like me.” 

“She does.” No further word left Jasper, unable to give room to the pain he felt, hoping that (y/n) wouldn’t run from him. 

“Tell me about her.” It felt like a joke, not understanding how (y/n) could focus on her rather than on the fact that he had told her about his age, about the life that was so different to hers. 

“She was my first love, I swore to marry her, but I was too late. She was dead before I could rescue her from the marriage she had been forced into.” Tears welled up in (y/n)’s eyes as her gaze flickered back down to the photograph. She traced the picture with her thumb, sharing the pain Jasper had carried deep inside of himself for decades. 

“When was that?” It was just a whisper, unable to speak with any more strength as tears began to roll down cheeks. Carefully Jasper wiped them away, softly smiling at (y/n), once again reminded of how caring she had been. 

“About one hundred and fifty years ago.” His words were followed by silence, a sillence so thick one could cut it with a knife. She didn’t move away, forced her teeth into her lower lip and kept staring at the picture. “I understand if you don’t believe me, it sounds insane, I know it does.”

“I need time to think about that.” A hum left Jasper, grateful that she hadn’t pushed him away till now. Slowly he tried to push her off his leg, set on leaving her apartment to give her enough time to think about the information he had just shared with her. “What are you doing, Jas?”

“Giving you time and space?” The confusion dripping from his words drew a chuckle out of (y/n). She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled him down and kissed him again. This time their kiss grew heated rather quickly drawing moans and groans out of them as Jasper shifted them around. (Y/n) found herself pressed against her couch with Jasper hovering over her, not daring to part from her just yet. 

“Don’t leave me, even though I need to wrap my head around the fact that some supernatural stuff is going on around here. For tonight I just want you to hold me close, to make me yours. If you’ll have me.” A growl crawled through Jasper as she murmured the words against his lips. His hands did quick work on his shirt, pulling it over his head with hers following moments later.

“I hope you know that once I make you mine, I won’t ever let you go again. Eternity is a long time to spend together.” She was too distracted by his wandering touch to fully focus on his words, torn between the lust pushing through her and the exictement of feeling Jasper close. It was way too easy to guide her, to make her follow every command as he held her close, set on loving her through the night before he’d fuck her properly in the early morning hours. 

“Use your words, darlin’. Tell me what you want.” Her bra fell to the ground, exposing her naked chest to Jasper’s wandering eyes. He dipped his head down to suck on her hardening nipples, hands grabbing them with just enough force to leave her gasping. (Y/n) arched her front into his touch, eyes fluttering close as he kissed his way further down south. “I asked you to speak up, didn’t I? Be a good girl for me, otherwise I’ll stop touching you.”

“I want you everywhere, want your mouth, your cock.” A raspy chuckle left Jasper as his nimble fingers worked on her trousers, freeing her from them with her damp panties following. She felt like a goddess, a goddess Jasper now marvelled at with an exciting darkness laced in his gaze. His eyes flickered up to meet hers as he forced himself between her thighs, grateful for the big space her couch offered. 

His tongue ran over her arousal-covered folds, drawing high moans from her at the unexpected touch. Her bundle pulsed against his cold thumb, making her feel as if she was on fire, even though his cold hand offered the perfect contrast. (Y/n) choked on his name as he circled her clit, tongue dipping into her tightness with a satisfied groan leaving Jasper. 

He could stay between her thighs till morning rose, pushing her over the edge again and again, high on her taste, on the sounds rumbling through her. Not once had he experienced a longing this deep, wanting to hold her close till their end of time, needing to taste her at any given chance. 

“My god, Jas, you’re so good at that.” Jasper chuckled against her cunt, adding even more speed to the movements of his thumb, wanting to watch her cum on his tongue before he’d fuck her. It didn’t take long for (y/n)’s moans to grow breathy, clawing her fingernails into the fabric of her couch to hold on before she’d pass out from the intense sensation. “I’m so close, fuck, let me cum, please.”

“Let go, darlin’, cum for me.” Her first orgasm of the night clawed through her without another warning, ripping her into another dimension as Jasper supported her through it. The smile he wore on his lips was almost devilish, urged on by the chance of feasting from her. He watched her with curious eyes, waiting for her next movements, wondering where this night would lead them to. 

“Jas,” (y/n) panted his name. “I need you to fuck me now, let me feel you, all of you, I’m on the pill.” She watched him rise to his feet to shuffle out of his clothes, exposing his hard cock to her wide eyes. Her greedy hands pulled him down for a kiss, moaning at the taste of herself stuck to his tongue. She felt him brush the tip of his cock through her slit, giving her another chance to inhale a shaky breath before he pushed into her.

Both moaned in unison, clinging to one another as he twitched inside of her. Jasper started on a slow rhythm, allowing (y/n) to adjust to his size. Only as she clawed her fingernails into his shoulder, did Jasper’s thrusts grow more ferocious. Their bodies met with every thrust, letting the sounds echo through her apartment, followed by their moans. 

“You feel so good, darlin’, so fucking good.” He moaned against her lips, staring down at her with love and lust laced in his gaze. (Y/n) choked on her sobs, holding him close as her walls fluttered around him. 

Jasper pulled out of her without a warning, momentarily leaving her empty. He flipped her around, pressed her against the armrest of her couch before he pushed back into her from behind. He held her against his chest with one hand, while the other found her overstimulated clit, pushing her closer to the edge. 

They watched the rain pour from the sky as he fucked her breathless, unable to focus on anything but the feeling of Jasper buried deep inside of her. She felt her orgasm about to rush through her again, tightening her grip on his forearm as she choked out his name. Jasper only groaned against the back of her neck, trying to keep himself from forcing his teeth into her skin right there and then. 

Both came with their bodies clinging to one another, with her heart racing, with sweat pooling on her forehead and his body shaking in excitement. Jasper stayed buried inside of her for a while, wordlessly holding her close to allow (y/n) to relax in his grasp. 

“If you always fuck like that, I think I can accept being in a relationship with something supernatural.” Breathy chuckles left him as he parted from her, picking her up to carry her towards her shower. He pressed a kiss to her swollen lips, and at that moment he made a silent promise to himself and to her. 

This was another chance at their life together, finally allowing him to love her in another lifetime.