#i realize the more i write these the more i find out i REALLY have a thing for decadence/the beauty of corruption...

[themultifanshipper]

Do you think you could do something like this

https://www.tumblr.com/themultifanshipper/759431110157631488/quiet-innocent-reader-x-lando-like-lando-finds

Maybe with Oscar ( love your writing)

If Oscar had to describe your sex life in one word : Vanilla.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that! God knows how much the two of you enjoyed the sex you had. You weren’t very experienced when you met Oscar, and you were quite a shy person.

Which is why Oscar was so shocked when he found what appeared to be a list of your kinks just sitting there when he got up to make his morning coffee.

Fun fact, this request was sent over a month ago, and i only have a couple more to do before i can get to my own stuff lmao

Warnings: innocent reader, Smut, PinV sex, rough sex, dirty talk, mention of lots of kinks n stuff

He hadn’t meant to get a glimpse into the inner workings of your sexual psyche, but really, who leaves something like that on the kitchen counter???

As he read it over and over again, his cock twitched in interest and got progressively harder until he put it down, the words seared onto his brain forever.

He tried to have a cold shower but just ended up jerking off furiously to completion imagining doing all the things from your list.

But as soon as he got out of the shower and dried off, he realized he was still achingly hard. He decided to put on a pair of his loosest joggers and go about his day while he waited for you to come back from work.

It wasn’t easy, but he managed to answer a whole two emails, internally debating the moral implications of communicating with his bosses while sporting an erection.

Then he jerked off again.

It did take the edge off for a bit, but every time he thought about it during the day he couldn’t help but fist his cock at the thought of all your filthy fantasies.

When you got home, you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, and you did your usual routine: shower, skincare, dinner with a glass of wine, followed by watching something with Oscar, the two of you huddled up together on the couch.

That’s when you started noticing Oscar’s behaviour.

It was very subtle, but you could tell he wasn’t at all focused on the movie, periodically fidgeting around uncharacteristically. Oscar was usually very settled, and tonight it was like he couldn’t keep still for more than 30 seconds. You also noticed his breathing was irregular, often getting shallower as he fidgeted.

Oscar couldn’t care less about what was happening on the screen, his brain was focused on the same thing it had been all day, that damn list.

And he’d been hard all day, which certainly didn’t help his internal crisis.

“Oscar” you sighed, pausing the movie “Talk to me, tell me what’s going on with you tonight”

“Nothing’s wrong, why would there be something wrong?” his mouth said, but his flushed cheeks were proof that he was hiding something.

If looks could kill, the one you gave him would have certainly done the trick.

“I… full honesty?” he asked quietly.

You nodded “Full honesty”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “Okay, but you can’t get mad at me”

You narrowed your eyes at him “That’s not a promise I can make, but I’ll do my best”

He bit his lip before taking your hands in his.

“I uh… I found your list”

You just stared at him. “What list?”

“This one…” he took the piece of paper out of his pocket where it had been burning a metaphorical hole in his hip ever since he’d found it.

He handed it to you, but you didn’t need to unfold it to know what it was. I was a bright pink piece of paper that had been ripped out of your diary the night before.

You completely froze, panic overtaking you.

“Oh my god. Oscar…” You couldn’t look him in the eyes as you tried to explain “you weren’t meant to find that I’m so sorry! I was going to throw it away this morning and I guess I put it down and completely forgot about it. Fuck- please don’t think I’m weird or whatever and just forget about it, okay? Please?”

You put your head in your hands and whined in distress. This couldn’t be happening. Your loving boyfriend had just learned about your depraved fantasies, and he was never going to see you the same way again.

“I can’t forget about it baby, I spent the entire day jerking off about it”

You head snapped up to finally look into his eyes, your jaw hanging in disbelief. You could tell he was dead serious and your gaze slowly trailed downwards towards his pants, where you could tell he was hard, then back up to his face to find him biting his lip so hard it was turning white.

“you-  what?”

“Sweetheart, I got so hard when I read it, I almost got in my car to come and get you from work. I want to do every thing on that list with you” he leaned closer to you and whispered “Every. Single. Thing.”

His arm wrapped around you and pulled you closer to him, lips coming to brush against your neck. “especially number 3…”

You glanced at the list, seeing what he was referring to and gasped.

“Oscar!”

He chuckled into the crook of your neck.

“Who knew you were so dirty, hmm? Where have you been hiding all this time?”

“I- I didn’t know how to ask” you stuttered as he nipped at the skin of your shoulder.

“That right? Well ask me now, then” he said and you frowned in confusion.

“What?”

“Ask me. Go down the list, and ask me to do those things to you…”

His lips trailed down your body and his hands pushed you to lay down on the sofa as you spluttered in confusion. “I don’t- what?”

“What’s the first thing on the list?” he asked, he knew of course, but he needed to hear you say it.

You blushed, checking the list.

“Choking…”

“Then ask me to choke you”

You shuddered as his mouth continued downwards and his hands spread your legs, one of them pushing your flimsy pyjama shorts to the side to expose you to him.

“Oscar what-“

“I want to see how wet you get just from saying it, go on then.” He ordered and you keened as a finger dipped through your barely moist folds.

“I want you… to uhm” your blush deepened and Oscar smiled at you condescendingly.

“Go on baby, you can do it”

You gulped.

“I want you to choke me” you squeezed your eyes shut at the admission, but Oscar was having none of it.

“Now fucking look at me and ask me again”

You gasped and your eyes flew open to look at him.

“I want you to choke me!”

“Good girl” he stroked your thigh “Next thing?”

You glanced at the list still clutched tightly in you hands.

“Spanking.”

Oscar cocked his head to the side. “What about spanking?”

Your jaw clenched, the fucker knew how to get what he wanted.

“I want you to spank me”

He smiled and nodded for you to continue.

“I want you to fuck me over the balcony for everyone to see” you said, and Oscar’s pupils dilated as he used his fingers to spread you open for him.

“Yeah? Want everyone to see how fucking filthy you actually are?” You whined as his thumb came to dip inside you briefly before rubbing it in slow circles over your clit.

“I want you to degrade and praise me…”

He felt like he was barely holding on to his sanity at this point.

“That’s so hot, fuck.” He palmed himself through his sweats “You want to be my good girl yeah? Want to be my good little slut? Only thing you’re good for anyway…”

You whimpered, his words making your whole body heat up, and took a deep breath before continuing.

“I want you to fuck my mouth”

He had to grip himself through his pants to ground himself, your words having an enormous effect on his composure.

Where had his sweet little innocent girlfriend gone?

“I’ll fuck your mouth baby, make you fucking drool for it, god you’d look so pretty taking me down your throat”

You were definitely wet now, and he took the liberty of sliding a finger inside you and hooking it upwards just to watch you squirm as he rubbed that special spot inside you.

“I want you to tie me up and force me to take it” you said breathlessly.

The noise he let out at that was animalistic as his wide eyes found yours and his jaw went slack as he pulled his pants down just enough to get a hand around himself.

“You have no idea how hot you’d look all tied up and helpless under me baby, it’s making me so hard just thinking about it..”

You moaned as he added a second finger inside you.

“I want, fuck- I want you to use me, and fill me up with your cum whenever you want”

“Shit.” He hissed “Fuck baby, I’m going to fill you up so good, you'll see…”

“Please”

You hadn’t realised how close you were getting, but Oscar’s expert fingers were making you delirious as you continued.

“I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk, want to cry from how good you feel inside me, wanna beg for your cock”

Oscar growled and pulled his fingers out.

“Then beg”

He settled over you, putting his weight on you, his dick resting against your folds as he panted into your mouth.

“Beg for my cock, slut”

You were so fucking turned on. Dominant Oscar was something new, but so, so incredibly hot you would have done absolutely anything to have him inside you at that moment.

“Please, please Osc, I need it. I need your cock so bad, please!”

He growled and slid in to the hilt without warning, making you moan into the heated kiss he was currently giving you to distract you. He was thick and the stretch was delicious as his cock dragged along your walls, making you see stars.

He started a deep, hard pace and his hips slapped against yours, obscene sounds filling the room.

“Fuck baby, so fucking wet for me. This what you wanted all along? For me to fucking ruin you on my cock?”

“Yes, Oscar, fuck!”

He chuckled darkly.

“That’s a good girl, so fucking tight, You’re getting close aren’t you? I can sweet your sweet pussy clenching around me, trying to keep me inside...”

He gripped your hips harder and angled his thrusts upwards, nailing your g-spot, and you were a goner. White spots danced in your vision as the pleasure overcame you, cunt spasming around Oscar.

“Perfect, perfect cunt. And it’s all fucking mine” he growled as he finally spilled inside you, filling you to the brim and forcing a pathetic whimper out of you at the new feeling.

Oscar had never come inside you before, and it was insanely hot. The feeling of your slick, hot walls pulsing around him was pure heaven and he couldn’t wait to test everything on that list.

After you’d regained your breath, you chuckled silently to yourself while stroking Oscar's back.

If this is what you got for leaving your list out, maybe you should tell Oscar about your box of toys in the in the back of your closet…

[dalishious]

Zevran Arainai is an Underrated Delight

There is so much depth to Zevran Arainai’s writing that is often overlooked in favour of either sexually objectifying him or ignoring him altogether… which is kind of ironic, considering that’s how so many people in his life have treated him within universe. And then, of course, there’s the biphobia directed at his character back when Dragon Age: Origins first released. He was a joke in many Gamer Bro circles about how they killed him for flirting with their male protagonist. It’s such a shame, really. Because personally speaking, Zevran is one of my favourite characters in the entire Dragon Age franchise.

Zevran’s introduction to the game immediately sets him apart from every other character who is capable of joining the party. He first appears as an enemy; an assassin hired to kill the Warden by Loghain, the Warden’s political opponent. You immediately have the option to either kill him, or add him to the party roster. Zevran does not initially join the Warden’s cause out of the goodness of his heart; he does it because he knows that the Antivan Crows who essentially own him – which we’ll get to – will kill him for failing to assassinate your character. This really paints his original placement within the group’s dynamics in an interesting light. No one really trusts him; Alistair and Morrigan both outright voice this. Zevran himself believes he is only safe with the Warden so long as he makes himself useful, per how he sells his worthiness to the Warden when trying to convince them to let him join. There’s tension there that really makes getting to know him extra interesting, because before anything else, you need to build trust. So, when he’s finally ready to start revealing parts about his personal history, you the player really get to feel like you’ve earned something special from his character.

Zevran’s mother was Dalish, but fell in love with an elf from the city and left her clan behind. Unfortunately, Zevran’s father was assassinated, leaving her with nothing but his debts to pay. She turned to sex work, until she died giving birth to Zevran, and all that debt fell onto him in turn. Zevran was raised by the sex workers in the brothel his mother worked at, until the age of seven, when the Antivan Crow Guildmaster Talav Arainai bought him for seven sovereigns; one of eighteen children made into “compradi” (recruits) that year. In his training, Zevran was tortured in a variety of ways, and in his own words, “taught to know nothing else but murder”. Of those eighteen, Zevran was one of two who survived the training, the other being a human boy named Taliesen. Then, a woman named Rinnala (“Rinna”) was placed into House Arainai from the Azul Contract that dictated the Crows were to take in unwanted bastard children of the Antivan Crown. For a time being, Zevran, Taliesen, and Rinnala worked well together as a professional and romantic trio. But when Zevran and Taliesen were tricked into believing Rinnala betrayed the Crows in an internal Crow scheme, they killed her. When they learned otherwise, Zevran took it particularly rough, combined with the realization of how little he himself mattered, too.

The trauma that Zevran has experienced is something he often makes jokes about, or speaks detached from. I’ve been called out many times on doing the same thing with my own trauma, and I know it’s a pretty commonplace response in others as well. That makes it feel all the more real; his responses are so authentically relatable. It’s also in a way, I find a little therapeutic to get to comfort a character whose survival mechanism has been to downplay his trauma for so long. The Warden is able to tell Zevran that what he’s been through sounds horrible, and even though Zevran tries to excuse things as not being that bad, you gain significant approval from him, just for showing him sympathy. Sympathy is something he’s severely lacked in his life. For all Zevran jokes about his traumatizing experiences, they clearly left a mark on him. Zevran eventually admits to the Warden that he did not actually anticipate being able to kill them, and that what he really wanted in taking on the job was to die. Again, sorry to get personal here for a moment, but I too have attempted suicide, and honestly I still struggle with ideation sometimes. And yet again I must say that I find something really beautiful in a character like Zevran, who is able to find peace and happiness on the other side of surviving such a thing.

As for Zevran’s romance… oh, Zevran’s romance path is such a delight. He is so multidimensional in that he’s very flirtatious and fun, while also showing genuine vulnerability in time. He admits that his role as a Crow meant he was encouraged to use seduction as a tool. His only experience with a true relationship ended very poorly, with Rinna’s death and a wedge forming between him and Taliesen, who he is eventually forced to kill too in the game. One of my favourite moments in the entire game, is when you invite him to your tent and he says no… and if you accept his consensual rights, that is what changes everything for him and the Warden’s relationship. Zevran feels safe and loved, and he gets to be happy. As of Dragon Age: Inquisition, a romanced Zevran is still at the Warden’s side, too, if they’re alive.

I love Zevran Arainai so much. He truly is an amazingly well done character, and deserves so much more respect and interest than he gets.

*Sourced from in-game dialogue and World of Thedas vol. 2

[maidragoste]

hey hun! im sorry for your loss and i saw u post abt needing distracting. so could u write a jace x reader? it could be any plot you want whatsoever and could it be a modern au? as well fluffy! is that okay?

Hi, how are you?

Thank you for your message 💖 I'm sorry it took me so long to upload your request (in the end it cost me more than I thought to recover and then university and trying to find a job overwhelmed me) but I hope you like the result 🥰💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

It hadn't really been Jacaerys' intention to wait for you to come back from your date. He should be doing some college work but instead, he's watching TV without paying attention to it thinking about how the hours are passing and you still haven't come home. Your date should be fun if you don't text Jace anymore. Jace shouldn't be worried about you because he knew Rhaena would never have set you up with an idiot but he still couldn't help being worried.

Jacaerys wanted you to come home and see if you were okay. It would hurt him to hear the details of your date and see you all excited about another boy but he would bear it.

If only Jace wasn’t afraid of ruining things between you two then he would have taken you out himself after hearing you complain about how your love life is dead instead of letting Rhaena set you up with one of her friends. But Jacaerys is sure that you don’t see him as more than a friend and he doesn’t want to risk losing you so he doesn’t make a move. He's content with being able to be in your life, with the chaotic mornings of the two of you getting ready before going to class, with your text messages telling him everything that happens to you during the day, with the nights cooking together and with the breaks where you watch series snuggled together on the couch.

Jacaerys looks away from the TV as he hears the keys clicking into the lock. You walk in and Jace feels a pit in his stomach because you don’t look excited, you look defeated? Your eyes meet his and you give him a tired smile but you quickly break eye contact to take off your coat and sneakers and then run to the couch with him.

“So you wanna talk about it?” Jacaerys doesn’t even finish asking how much you’re already talking.

“It was fine. He’s nice and we talked for hours. Everything was going well until the end because he tried to kiss me.” If you hadn’t been busy fidgeting nervously you would have noticed how your roommate seemed to tense up all of a sudden. “I declined and he wasn’t bothered but it was awkward.” You sighed.

“Why did you reject him? Are you the kind of person who has a rule of not kissing on the first date?”

“Because I don’t like him” you declared, suddenly looking up and for a moment, at the intensity of your gaze, Jace forgot to breathe. “I could be his friend, but I’m not interested in him in any other way.”

“Oh” was the only thing that came out of the surprised man’s mouth.

“Oh,” you repeated, “Why did you wait for me, Jace?”

“Who said I was waiting for you? I was watching TV” he denied instantly.

“Jace”

Seeing your beautiful eyes looking at him pleadingly for a moment, Jace was afraid to give in and confess everything to you, as for more than a year he can’t stop thinking about you and wants to be more than your friend. But again, he’s afraid of making you uncomfortable and losing your friendship, so he asks instead.

“What does that have to do with you not liking your date?”

“While I was with him I realized that I actually wanted to be home with you” you confessed and instantly regretted it when you saw that he remained silent. “Forget it. I'm sorry for making it weird” You got up ready to go to your room so you could have a crisis alone about ruining your friendship with Jace when he took you by the hand and pulled you causing you to end up on top of him.

“Oh no, I don’t plan on forgetting it, not when I’ve been pining for you for over a year,” he stated making you smile.

“You’re a coward,” you mocked without malice. “Over a year and you never made a move. You’re lucky I decided to act.”

“You’re right,” he said smiling unbothered. “Now that we’ve established that I’m a fool and you’re the best, can I kiss you?” he asked and you laughed feeling delighted with him.

“Try not to sound so desperate to kiss me.”

“Can you blame me?” He arched an eyebrow, any embarrassment or fear he felt disappearing the moment he knew his feelings were reciprocated. “I thought a lot about kissing you and I finally have the chance.”

At his confession, you felt heat on your face and your smile grew. “You're such a fool.” You took his face in your hands and felt your heart warm at the softness with which Jace looked at you.

The moment your lips touched his Jacaerys knew he would become addicted to your kisses. He would look for any excuse to kiss you as many times as he wanted. You would probably become the clingy couple that his friends would make fun of. But he didn't care and he didn't think you would either because you were kissing him with the same intensity.

Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works

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hotd masterlist

[alpaca-clouds]

BG3 fans, we gotta talk CPTSD

Okay, I have spend about a week considering writing this blog, but I really gotta say, that it is something people really need to understand. See, I mostly see this issue with Astarion and his depiction in fandom. However, I would argue that it is a thing that affects literally all characters that play some sort of bigger in this entire game. Including many NPCs.

But let me start with Astarion. See, I wrote the blog two weeks ago about people being judgy on people, who do not want to have graveyard sex with him. Mostly people will argue how Astarion should be allowed to have his agency in that moment - while I argued that whoever the player is playing should have also agency in that scene. Including the agency to say "no" for whatever reason. I also included that my Tav absolutely denied Astarion, because he was not trusting that Astarion in the scene really was ready for it, for a variety of reasons. Which is very much a valid reason for someone not to want to sleep with someone else. (Literally every reason is a good reason for that, mind you.)

And obviously there came the comment, that went basically: "As someone who was raped I am very appalled by you saying that raped people cannot consent." Which is very much not what I said.

What I said was, that my Tav did not consent. Yes, he did not consent because he thought Astarion was not ready for it - but he is the one not consenting. It does not matter for this whether his assumption about Astarion is true or not. Tav does not feel comfortable in the scene, so Tav does not want sex right there.

However... If you consider the drow orgy scene, Tav is also very much right. If you do that scene after defeating Cazador, Astarion is enthusiastically consenting to that orgy, but he still ends up dissociating during the scene. (And in that scene, even if your character notices it, you cannot go "Stop!" Which I hate.)

Here is the thing. If you are in the BDSM scene, you might actually have encountered a scenario in real life where someone was enthusiastically consenting to something - only to them realize, that they were not into it at all. And people can withdraw their consent IRL at this point. Only that in this game, obviously you can't. So within the game choices I will just start out with "no" for this character.

Still, that is actually not what I mainly wanted to talk about. No.

What I wanted to talk about is the other thing. I absolutely know that for a variety of reasons a lot of SA survivors do identify with Astarion, and I do not want to take that from anyone. I think it is amazing that we got a character with whom we see this issue portrayed seriously. And let's face it. Especially in tumblr fandom circles, we will have a lot of SA survivors, because the userbase of this website is majority afab, and many are queer. And we know from statistics that queer afab people are even more likely than non-queer afab people to experience SA at some point in there life. So, yes, Astarion is going to be embraced by this community makes sense - even without his dashing looks.

But here we get to the actual meat of the issue: Astarion was not just raped. Astarion was abused in a variety of ways - some of them sexual - over the course of 200 years. He went not through a single traumatic event, but an ongoing trauma that, again, lasted for 200 years.

Or to put different: Astarion does not have PTSD. He has C-PTSD. Complex trauma. The kind of trauma that develops when the trauma lasts over a long, long time, without the survivor getting a chance to ever really properly ever relax. Something that was very true for Astarion's time under Cazador. He was under constant threat of rape, torture, and other forms of violence.

While CPTSD is a form of PTSD, it has some differing symptoms - and additional symptoms from plain old PTSD.

I found this graphic on this blog here, and found it fairly good in the depictions. (If you google CPTSD you will find several graphics like this.) It shows very well the additional symptoms, compared to normal trauma.

Generally speaking, CPTSD brings a lot stronger issues with self-worth, interpersonal problems, and emotional regulation. CPTSD folks are often prone to emotional outbursts (this graphic names anger, but technically it can be all other kinds of emotional outbursts - which is why at times CPTSD gets confused with BPD).

And Astarion is written like this. He shows very much all the symptoms of CPTSD. And let's be honest: That is an issue he will have to deal with for a long, long while.

But... As I said, the same is actually true for pretty much all the characters.

If you look at the companions, it is obvious.

Gale spent at least a year in constant fear of blowing up. While Mystra's abusiveness towards him within the relationship prior the orb is more fanon than canon (though the relationship was defnitely not an easy one), the "one year in constant fear of death" is very likely going to instill some form of CPTSD in him.

Karlach was a slave for 10 years, forced to fight in the hells. While she will also probably suffer from certain forms of PTSD more common in soldiers. Additionally I would argue that she also has some CPTSD from tiefling-racism. While she does not bring it up often... She does seem to have a thing there.

With Wyll it is a bit more complicated. Yes, for him I would see the kind of CPTSD I have - parental abuse related. Ulder was not openly abusive, but neither was my mother, and guess what fucked me most up in my childhood, despite experiencing some really bad violence elsewhere.

Shadowheart was abused by Viconia and midwashed and tortured and was forced to kill her fucking pet mouse. Bonus points that a lot of it happened during her childhood. She very much is gonna suffer the consequences.

Lae'zel... Do I really need to say something about her upbringing among the Gith?

Then we have Halsin. We know fairly little about his background, given that he is very coy in talking about it. But his "three years as a drow slave" definitely make it likely that he has developed some form of CPTSD.

And then we have Jaheira and Minsc. For whom just the... Well, look folks, the adventuring lifestyle would logically also leave you with CPTSD of some sort.

Even if you play a Tav who entered the game after having a very untraumatic life... They will spent what has to be at least two months with a tadpole in their head threatening to kill them - while half of Baldur's Gate is trying to do the same. They'll have PTSD after this at the very least, if not CPTSD. (Even though, let's face it, chances are we all gave our Tavs more than enough background trauma to go along with it, right?)

And same goes for so many other characters. The tiefling refugees. Our main villains (especially Gortash and Orin). Cazador. The other vampire spawn (duh). The list goes on.

So, what am I trying to say here?

Well, for once I just want to make sure folks understand that CPTSD is a thing that exists and while being similar to normal PTSD differs in some points. Including the fact that people with CPTSD have a high likelihood to make very rash decisions driven by instable emotional states, that might be harmful to them on the long run.

And mind you. In real life most people with CPTSD have it because either they were bullied for a long time, or were in an abusive relationship of some sort. (Abusive parents, abusive partners, abusive friends/roommates.) But even in those heightened scenarios the game represents for the most part - the issues are gonna be still mainly the same.

[likedovesinthewindd]

can u write something where reader and art have an argument but then after a while they make up with some you know 😛😛😛😛 do whatever u what with this

The two of you have barely been on speaking terms, and your one word responses and avoidance were beginning to eat at Art. He wasn't used to you being this angry at him for this long, and the silent treatment was already moving on to its second day.

He could barely remember what the argument was initially about, but he knew he said some things in the heat of the moment that definitely weren't necessary, and he wished he could take it all back the second he could see the hurt in your eyes. He longed to hear your voice again. To hear you laugh and to touch you again, so by the third day, he had decided he was going to win your forgiveness by any means necessary.

That evening, he finds you cooking in the kitchen when he returns from practice, quietly stirring at a pot as your head gently nods to the music softly playing from the radio you keep in the kitchen. He comes up behind you, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck as he wraps his arms around you and greets you. You hum a half-hearted greeting, attention still on the task at hand.

"How was practice?" you ask, and for a moment he gets excited, thinking maybe this was your way of finally raising the white flag, but you still don't look at him as you speak and keep stirring at the pot. He realizes you're only asking him out of courtesy. "It was alright," he spoke softly, warm breath tickling your neck as you felt his hands grab at the fat of your hips. "Missed you though," he tries, mouth now planting kisses to the side of your neck and down the expanse of skin.

You try to act unfazed by his attention, but you could already feel the fuzzy heat in your lower tummy as his strong hands grab at you almost hungrily. Still, you keep up a front and only give an incredulous hum at his words. "You still mad at me?" he asks, and you shrug. In response, his hands continue their journey, rubbing over your stomach as he gets a feel of the silk of your nightie.

"I'm sorry for what I said, sweetheart," he finally says, one hand underneath your right breast as the other rested on your lower stomach. He places a few more kisses in the dip of your shoulder.

"You said some really mean things, Art," you say, sparing him a look over his shoulder, and his sad eyes almost make you fold completely, relief washing over his features when you finally look at him. "I know, and I feel awful," he quickly replies, his grip on you tightening as if he's afraid you'll dissappear.

"I wanna make it up to you," he says softly, "wanna show you how sorry I am."

His voice sends a chill down your spine, your grip on the wooden spoon and pot handle tightening before you leave both. You turn down the dial on the stove before turning around in Art's grip. He holds you closer, hands rubbing at your back as your hands hold onto his face. He looks absolutely ruined, eyes wet and pleading like a kicked puppy. Your thumbs rub over the apples of his cheek softly.

"Make it up to me, Art," you breathe softly and like that he's on you.

Not long after the words leave your mouth, you're in your shared bedroom, your legs wrapped tightly around Art's lithe waist as he fucked you into the mattress. He's hitting that spot every time he bottoms out, making your legs shake and your eyes roll into the back of your head as your breathy moans fill the room. "So fuckin pretty," Art whines as he looks down at you, words slurred together as he watches the way your tits bounce with each thrust. "C'mon sweetheart, wanna see you cum."

You moan at his words, nodding dumbly as you feel the liquid heat pooling in your lower tummy. "I'm so close, baby. I'm gonna cum," you moan and he doubles his efforts, hand moving down your body to rub your throbbing clit. A few swipes of his fingers paired with thrusts deep enough to knock your breath away and you're cumming hard, vision blurring as your mouth opens in a silent moan before a low whine leaves your mouth. Art's not far behind, giving a few uneven thrusts before he's pulling out and cumming all over your stomach and tits.

He immediately kisses at your warmly flushed face, waiting as you catch your breath before his lips finally meet yours in a searing kiss that has you breathless once again. He pulls away and looks down at your fucked face, a sheen of sweat covering your body. "Am I forgiven?" he asks softly, and you give him a warm smile, nodding before pulling him into another kiss.

[ilyrafe]

𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒏 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄. | 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆

pairing: hitman!rafe cameron x f!reader

warnings: domestic violence, murder

word count: 1k

a/n: this is loosely based on the movie hit man (actually based on a scene lol)

taglist: @starkeyvhs

unpretentiously, rafe enters the diner and sits at a table, facing the entrance, just so he can see who comes and goes. the young waitress takes his order - a cheeseburger with fries and a soda - and he waits.

strangely, he couldn’t find any pictures of y/n, the woman who contacted him. all he knew about her was her name, really. she only said the clothes she would be wearing - a pair of jeans and a large gray sweater, but anyone could be wearing that. she didn’t inform him about her physicality, and he couldn’t find anything about her online, which intrigued him a lot more.

she isn’t his first female client, but it’s still rare for him to have women wanting his services. 

his order comes and he keeps watching the entrance of the diner. all kinds of people come and go, young and older men, children, teenagers, and even some women, but none of them approach him.

when he’s taking the last sip of his soda, he sees a young looking woman walking towards him. she looks around, clearly nervous. she sits in front of him and rafe realizes it’s her.

“i contacted you yesterday.” she says, almost whispering.

she is visibly tense, probably her first time talking to a hitman.

“how can i help you, y/n?”

she sighs, contrasting with his own posture. she looks tired, the bags under her eyes are quite dark. her hair is lifeless, quite messy, as if she didn’t really have time to brush it or didn’t care to do it. her clothes aren’t new, and he notices a tiny stain that could be blood, but he’s not sure.

before she can say anything, she reaches for her bag and takes out a dark yellow package and slides it to him.

the cash.

“i need you to kill my husband.”

he could be wrong, but rafe is pretty sure there are tiny tears forming in her eyes. they look scared, devoid of any light or hope. to be honest, this woman is just existing.

“why?”

that seems to catch her by surprise. he doesn’t like the way she’s doing everything she can to look invisible. literally no one has noticed her presence there. the waitress hasn’t even come here to take her order.

“he… he’s awful.” she admits. “i don’t know what else to do. he won’t let me leave him. he… he gets drunk and then he…” she trails off, wiping away a few tears. “anything can set him off and i’m scared for my life. the police won’t do anything…”

the friction between the sleeve and the table causes the skin on her wrist to be exposed and he sees purple marks. if her wrist is that bad, he can’t even imagine the rest of her body.

rafe takes the cash in his hands and after two seconds of thought, he gives it back to her.

“do you have children?” she shakes her head. “then take this money and don’t go back home. go away and don’t look back. start over somewhere far away from here.”

“no, he’ll find me!”

the panic in her voice pains him so much.

“don’t worry about it. i’ll take care of him, but i need you to do what i say.”

“i don’t understand…”

“i don’t want your money. just give me a picture of him and his home address.”

after a few long seconds, she nods and takes a piece of torn photo, a piece of paper, and a pen from her purse. she writes down her home address and hands it over along with the picture of her husband.

she takes back the money and put it back in her purse. it’s all her life savings. the money she had to hide from her husband, so he wouldn’t spend on alcohol and drugs. rafe puts the items in his pocket and watches her leave the diner, hoping to god she listens to him and goes away. 

(...)

in his car, rafe watches the movement on the street outside your house.

ever since he left the diner, he has been monitoring your husband’s steps, and since then, he has not seen you coming home. hopefully you really did leave this place for good. 

rafe doesn’t know what possessed him to help you, he has never worked for free, and money is perhaps the most important thing in his life, but after seeing you, and understanding that hiring a hitman may have been your last option, he just wanted to do a good deed, since his job is only to kill people in exchange for money.

it is already dawn, two in the morning to be exact. all the neighbors seem to be asleep. when he is sure that he can act, rafe gets out of the car properly dressed for the killing - gloves, mask and a gun.

upon reaching the back door of the house, rafe notices that the door is unlocked, as are the windows.

strange.

prepared for any kind of situation, he enters the house silently. it is dark, so he turns on the kitchen light, and finds himself in a simple but messy kitchen, with food scraps in the sink. there are empty bottles of whiskey and beer everywhere, trash all over the place. just ahead, in the living room, lying on the floor, there is joshua, your husband, apparently passed out.

this will be easier than expected.

before doing anything to joshua, rafe searches your bedroom and sees that the closet is open and empty. well, there are just a few men’s clothes. all of your clothes are gone. you really are gone. you did go back home, but you're gone, and that’s what really matters.

a sense of relief washes over rafe, and it’s inexplicable. it’s like he really feels like he saved a life.

thinking about faking a suicide, he searches for a gun, and luckily finds one in the bathroom. after checking for ammo, he carefully places the gun in joshua’s hand and brings it to his temple. with his finger, he pulls the trigger.

let me know your thoughts & if you want to be tagged :)))

[midnight-mourning]

Pun War. (Sun x reader Drabble)

Requested By: @starspindle

Word Count: 498

Summary: You and Sun find yourselves in a heated battle fit only for the cleverest of jesters, but all's fun in jokes and war until one of you makes a slip up that might be a step too far. Or is it?

Note: This was very fun! It put my pun skills to the test. It also proves that yes, I CAN write fluff. Hope you enjoy ^-^

*********************************************************************

"This is quite the disASTER, isn’t it?" You had said, picking up one of the scattered flowers in hopes of calming down the child in front of you. Note to self, maybe save any projects with plants for the older kids. 

It worked though, the little boy giggling as he scurried away, a few fistfuls of flowers in his hands. 

Sun, having overheard the joke from where he was currently managing the other children called out, "I’m rooting for you, Sunshine!"

It took you a moment to notice the pun, but then you smirk. 

"Thanks for being such a good bud-dy, Sunny."

He bows, eyes uplifted with glee, "My pleasure, Sunflower."

Throughout the rest of the morning, the two of you go back and forth with your puns. Switching from plants to anything around the Daycare seamlessly. Also seamlessly, the puns you make become more, flirty, in nature. 

"You brighten my morning."

"You've got me hooked on you."

“I crayon believe I get to spend all day with you.”

It's when you're on your lunch break that things start to escalate.

"You're quite a snack, you know."

Sun waves the last child for the morning group goodbye, shutting the door as his faceplate spins, "I think you're quite aDOORable, really."

You try to think of something good to fight back with, quickly realizing your options have started to run thin.

Then, you look down at your sandwich, and hold it up with a grin, "Yeah, well, I loaf you."

You expect a witty comeback, it doesn't come. Instead, you watch as Sun freezes completely, eyes widening at your words. Your smile falters. 

Internally you start berating yourself, 'Too far, too far, I went too far-'

"Starshine."

Coming out of your head you find Sun bent down in front of you, tone serious, "Did you really mean that?"

"I," You look away, coughing, "I, um."

His hand goes under your chin, tilting your gaze back to him.  

"Be honest with me. Please," He pleads.

You bite your lip, and sigh, "I, yeah. I-I did."

You close your eyes, cringing for the obvious negative outcome of such an admittance-

You feel a soft bonk against your forehead, then your cheek, your nose, and lastly your lips. You open your eyes in time for Sun to pull away again, rays spinning and a gentle spring in his words, "I love you too."

"Oh-um, really?" You squeak. Your face is burning. 

He laughs, it's light, sweet. His hand cups your cheek, "Yes, wheely."

You're confused for a moment before you think to look down, seeing that he's now standing on the wheels which are usually hidden in his shoes.

You puff out your cheeks, shooing his hand away as he laughs again, "No fair. How am I supposed to make a comeback to that!"

"Simple," Sun boops your nose, "You can't."

The rest of your break is spent sharing heartfelt grins, giggles, and maybe a few more kisses, just for good measure.

*********************************************************************

Requests are still open until 12:30 PM EST Tomorrow (9/23/24)! Check out the original post for rules and such :) Thanks for reading!

[itneverendshere]

shy!sweetheart!reader being secretly a metalhead (enjoying bands like falling in reverse and bad omens). rafe finding out like 🤨

this was ridiculously cute to write😌 and i felt like it feet pogue!bartender!reader's universe 100% so i did it.....if it wasn't want you wanted IM SORRY but it's canon in my head and my fingers worked really fast to write this down lmao. thank you for the request!!🩵🫂

you're in the walls that i made - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

It had been a long day, and all you wanted to do was get home, toss on your favorite oversized hoodie, and dive into a YouTube rabbit hole of random videos on your phone.

Rafe, of course, was your ride—like usual. He’d somehow appointed himself as your unofficial chauffeur after shifts, and you weren’t exactly complaining. You were saving up for a car, and you were almost there, only a few more weeks and you’d have your baby.

But it was nice to have a reliable ride, even if it came with his very questionable music taste.

"Alright, let's go," Rafe said, pulling up in his shiny black truck as you slid into the passenger seat.

The smell of leather and cologne hit you immediately, as did the unmistakable thumping bass of whatever rap song he had blasting. The lyrics were, as usual, about women, money, and something about getting high on a yacht. You made a face without even realizing it—like you did every time.

"What's that look for?" Rafe smirked, glancing over at you as he pulled out of the parking lot.

You shrugged, hoping he’d let it slide. "Nothing. Just... nothing."

Rafe wasn’t the kind of guy to let anything slide. "Nah, you do that every time I play my music.”

You bit your lip, wondering if he thought you were a snob now. “What? No I don’t.”

He shot you a side-eye, his smirk widening as he pressed a little harder on the gas. "You got somethin' better on your playlist?"

It wasn’t like you were embarrassed. You just didn’t think Rafe, with his expensive taste and rich boy vibes, would get it. But before you could answer, the radio cut in between songs with an ad, and you almost jumped in your seat.

“On September 6th, for one night only, Bad Omens will be performing live at the Greyhall venue on the mainland! Get your tickets now before they sell out!”

Your heart raced. Bad Omens. They were one of your favorite bands, and they were going to be right there—just a ferry ride away. You stared at the radio, gripping the sides of the seat like you were about to take off.

"Wait, what?" You said under your breath, but loud enough that Rafe noticed.

He furrowed his brow, glancing between you and the road. "You okay? What's up?"

You bit your lip, feeling the excitement rising inside you and knowing it was pointless. You couldn’t afford concert tickets, let alone the ferry and everything else that came with it. But still, you couldn’t help the tiny squeak of frustration that escaped.

"It’s nothing. Just…one of my favorite bands is playing."

Rafe’s eyebrows shot up. "Favorite bands?" His voice lilted with surprise. "You never told me you had a favorite band. Wait—what band?"

You fidgeted in your seat, the seatbelt suddenly feeling too tight. "Bad Omens."

He blinked. "Who?"

Of course. You sighed. "They're a metalcore band. Like heavy, but not just noise. They actually sing. And scream. It’s complicated."

Rafe's expression was priceless—like you just told him you were secretly a wizard or something.

"Metalcore?" He repeated, testing the word,"Wait, hold up. You’re telling me you like that screamo stuff?"

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

You? The girl who got him by the balls since he laid his eyes on you? The quiet, sweet, always-put-together girl he drove home after work, into metalcore? It was like you just told him you had a secret double life.

You shrugged, feeling yourself blush a little. "It’s not just screamo. There's a lot more to it. It's deep."

“Screamo stuff,” he repeated, trying to wrap his head around it. His eyes moved from the road back to you, still processing. You were full of surprises, and every time he learned something new about you, it knocked him off his feet. He wasn’t used to it. Most girls he’d been with were pretty predictable—into the same stuff, liked the same fancy dinners, designer bags, the whole kook lifestyle. And then there was you.

You still sounded a little defensive, your fingers messing with the hem of your shirt. “I swear, there’s actual singing and meaning behind the lyrics.”

Rafe leaned back in his seat, still smirking, but he wasn’t laughing at you. He was actually impressed. You really didn’t care what anyone thought, did you? He couldn’t even pretend to understand the music, but it wasn’t just that—it was everything about you that threw him off in the best way.

"So that’s why you’re always making faces at my music? ‘Cause it’s not—what, hardcore enough for you?"

You couldn’t help but giggle. "I mean yeah, kinda." You glanced over at him, like you were waiting for him to crack a joke or say something stupid, but all he could do was stare at you like you’d just become ten times more interesting. “What, I don’t look like someone who’d enjoy heavy music?”

He laughed, shaking his head.  “I would've never guessed. You’re always so quiet. Sweet. I thought you’d be into, I don’t know, something soft and cute. You look like you’d be into Taylor Swift, not dudes screaming about whatever it is they scream about.”

You let out a small laugh, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sound. He loved that laugh. “Well, I do like Taylor Swift. But, you know, metal is just...it hits different.”

Rafe’s face went from shock to something else, like he was putting pieces together in his head. "Wait, that explains so much. Every time I put on something with a chill beat, you look like you’re dying inside."

"I just have different taste," you admitted.

"Damn, never thought I’d see the day," he muttered, more to himself. “So, this band of yours—Bad Omens—where they playing?"

"Greyhall in September,” you said quietly. "But it’s fine. I can’t afford to go."

He frowned. "The hell you can’t. Just get the tickets."

You blinked at him. "I can’t, Rafe. They’re probably expensive, and I’ve got rent and bills. Y’know, real life stuff?"

He furrowed his brow, like the concept of not being able to afford something was completely foreign to him. “It’s just tickets. How much could they be?”

"Probably more than I make in a week. Plus the ferry, the drinks, food—it's not that simple."

He glanced at you, like he was doing the math in his head. The guy lived in a world where nothing was “that simple” because everything was already done for him. He didn’t have to think about rent or ferry costs or budgeting for groceries. That wasn’t Rafe’s reality, and for a second, you could see it in his eyes—he forgot that your world wasn’t his.

"Alright," he said, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal, "I’ll get them."

"What?"

"I’ll get the tickets," he repeated, more casual this time, like it was the easiest solution in the world. "You wanna see them, right? So I’ll buy the tickets."

Your mouth fell open. "Rafe, no. You can’t just—"

He looked at you like you’d just said something offensive. "I can.”

"No, you’re not buying me concert tickets. That’s ridiculous."

He rolled his eyes, acting like it was no big deal. “I’ve spent more on dumber shit. Consider it an early birthday gift. Or whatever."

“Do you even know when my birthday is?”

He didn’t even miss a beat, "October 8th” he said, his voice so smooth and confident that it caught you off guard.

Your jaw dropped a little, and you stared at him. "Wait—how do you know that?"

He shrugged casually, but he was proud of himself. "What, you think I don’t pay attention to you?”

When it came to you, he was locked in. Every detail, every little thing you mentioned, he was soaking it up. He knew. Out of all the random things, that’s what he remembered. You never told him outright; maybe it came up once in a passing conversation, weeks ago, buried under a million other details about work or life or whatever. And yet, here he was, dropping the exact date like it was nothing. You tried to play it cool, but inside, your brain was short-circuiting. Rafe Cameron knows my birthday. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, staring straight ahead, that smirk still glued to his face. He was being way too natural about the whole thing.

“Okay,” You snapped out of it, “You’re not buying me tickets, Rafe,” you warned him, crossing your arms and shaking your head. “Seriously, I can’t let you do that.”

He barely glanced at you, too busy making a smooth turn, “You act like I just offered to buy you a house. It’s a couple of tickets, not that big of a deal.”

“To you!” You huffed, leaning back in the seat. “It’s a big deal to me. I’m not just gonna let you drop money like that. For what? For a concert that you’re not even going to?”

Rafe let out a low chuckle, which only fueled your frustration. He thought this was funny.

“It’s just tickets,” he repeated, like that was going to wear you down. “Look, if it bothers you that much, you can pay me back. And I can go with you”

You felt your heart do this weird little somersault, like it didn’t know whether to panic or be excited.

What the hell was he talking about.

Rafe Cameron, Mr. Country Club, wanted to go to a metalcore concert with you?

Your head was spinning. He doesn't even know the band, you thought, trying to figure out if he was serious or just messing with you. But judging by the way he was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, he wasn’t joking.

“You’re gonna come with me to a Bad Omens concert?” Your voice came out more skeptical than you intended, but could he blame you. The thought of Rafe at a concert full of screaming fans and heavy breakdowns was honestly hilarious.

He shrugged, eyes still on the road, totally unfazed. “Yeah, why not? Could be fun.”

Fun? FUN? You were genuinely struggling to picture him, in his usual attire, khaki shorts and a Ralph Lauren polo, at a venue packed with sweaty metalheads. You almost wanted to laugh, but then again, he was doing this for you. He was willing to put up with a night of music he definitely didn’t like, just so you could see one of your favorite bands. That meant something.

You scoffed. “How would I pay you back anyway? With what? My tips from bartending at the country club? Gonna take me six months to pay off Bad Omens tickets.”

He glanced over, eyebrow raised, like he was sizing you up. “You’re seriously gonna pass up the chance to see one of your favorite bands because you’re too proud to let me help?”

You bit your lip, torn between how much you wanted to see them live and how uncomfortable it felt to accept help from someone like Rafe. He was used to throwing money around—his daddy’s money, no less—and you... well, you weren’t like that. You’d grown up on the other side of the island, working your ass off to afford anything. 

The idea of someone just buying something for you? It made you feel weird. Like a sell-out.

“It’s not about a couple bucks. It’s about you doing this because you feel like you have to or something.”

His jaw tightened just slightly, and he shook his head like you were missing the point completely. “I don’t feel like I have to do anything. I want to do this. There’s a difference.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, not letting him off the hook just yet. “Why? Why do you want to do this so bad?”

There it was. That look again. He hesitated, like he was deciding whether to be fully honest or not, then leaned back in his seat, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel again, trying to play it cool.

“Because,” he started, his voice casual but his eyes were giving him away. “This is what friends do. They look out for each other. I’m not letting you miss something you clearly want.”

Saying the word made his chest hurt just a little. Friends. Right. But he didn’t let it show. He wasn’t exactly the relationship type, and everyone knew it. You probably knew it, but when it came to you things were different. And maybe the idea of spending time with you at that concert—just the two of you, no work, no distractions—sounded like a dream. How could he say that without looking like an idiot? Or worse, like a an asshole trying to buy his way into your life.

“Rafe, be serious,” you sighed. “I don’t like feeling like I owe someone.”

“You don’t owe me shit,” he said quickly, a little sharper this time. He seemed almost offended. “Why do you keep acting like this is some big favor? I’m not holding it over your head or anythin’. I just want you to go to the concert and have a good time. Is that so hard to accept?”

You did want to go. Badly. But accepting help like this wasn’t your style, especially not from Rafe, who lived in a completely different world. And yet you could feel how much he genuinely wanted you to say yes.

 “I’m being realistic.”

Rafe snorted. “Realistic? You’re being stubborn as hell.”

“I’m not—”

“Yeah, you are,” he cut you off, pulling into a stop at the light and turning his whole body toward you. His eyes were locked on yours now, serious but still with that hint of playful annoyance. “Look, I get it. Fine. You want to go to the concert. I’m offering to make it happen. End of story.”

He was used to getting what he wanted, and, right now, what he wanted was for you to take these tickets.

“Why do you care so much?” you asked, your voice coming out quieter than you intended.

He hesitated for half a second. Then that smirk of his came back, though it felt different. “Because I like seeing you excited about something. You’ve been dragging your feet every time I see you, and now, you hear some band’s coming to town, and you light up like it’s Christmas. You think I’m gonna let you miss that over a couple bucks?”

You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. He was always so sincere. And it threw you off completely. Rafe was a lot of things to a lot of people—cocky, reckless, arrogant—but he wasn’t usually thoughtful. Not to them. Not like this. You seemed to be the only one who saw the good in him.

But you still weren’t giving in. “Rafe... it’s just weird, okay? I don’t want it to be like you’re doing me a favor.”

He let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head. “Fine. Then don’t think of it like that. Think of it like— I’m investing in something I wanna see. You freaking out at this concert, screaming your head off, losing your voice for two days—that’s entertainment.”

 “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re difficult,” he shot back, eyes narrowing playfully. “But I’m not backing down, so you might as well just say thank you and take the tickets.”

“Or what?” you challenged, but your voice was softening.

“Or I’ll buy the tickets, show up at your door, and force you to go.”

You blinked. “You wouldn’t.”

He grinned. “Try me. C’mon,” he pushed, sensing you were caving. “You work your ass off at that club, always taking care of everyone else. For once, just let someone take care of you.”

Your breath hitched at that. He wasn’t just being cocky or trying to win an argument anymore. He meant it. You looked out the window, chewing on your lip. This was new, this was all so new to you it felt a little pathetic with how hard your heart was racing. There was a moment of silence, like you were both just waiting for the other to blink first.

Finally, you sighed, throwing your hands up in defeat. “Fine! Fine. Buy the stupid tickets. But don’t think I’m not paying you back. I’ll find a way.”

He just laughed, clearly satisfied with his victory. “I’ll take that as a ‘thank you, Rafe. You’re the best friend ever.’”

You rolled your eyes again but couldn’t help smiling a little. “Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night, Cameron.”

As the light turned green and he started driving again, you let out a long breath, not knowing why you were giving up so easily. There was this strange warmth in your chest, knowing he cared enough to go toe-to-toe with you over something as small as a concert.

“Hey, for the record,” Rafe said after a moment, glancing over at you. “I’d do it again. Just so you know.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What? Fight me over tickets?”

He grinned, looking back at the road. “Nah. Fight you over anything, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname, but you were beaming like an idiot now. You felt lighter. “Just don’t think this means I’m letting you pick the music on the way there.”

“Deal,” he said, laughing as he leaned back in his seat, clearly proud of himself. “But don’t get too used to it. Next time, it’s back to rap and yachts.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Yeah, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

As he drove, you couldn’t help but peek over at him, catching the way his jawline tensed and relaxed, the way his fingers tapped the steering wheel like he was still buzzing from the conversation.

And yeah, maybe you’d heard the rumors surrounding him, believed them a little before.

Now, you weren’t so sure.

All the while Rafe felt like he’d just won the lottery. You had no idea how hard he was falling for you, piece by piece. Every small detail about you made him fall harder, and it scared the hell out of him how much he cared. But he couldn’t stop now.

Truth was, he didn’t want to.

[koiiiji]

some mistakes couldn’t be undone

tw ; abuse, canonical violence, Gitae is a threat himself, angst, yandere(?)

author's note ; i still haven't decided if i want to write him having really small soft spot, or well... a more canonical bastard…✊🏻😔

author’s note 2 ; minors, ageless/empty blogs DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU!!!

the flickering light above the old hotel door cast long shadows on the cracked walls, giving the room an air of abandonment and isolation. you thought you'd find safety here, far away from the life you'd tried so desperately to escape. Gitae had never been a man to let things go, but you'd dared to hope that the distance, the unfamiliarity of mexico’s wilderness, would keep him away for long enough. long enough for you to figure out what to do next.

but he had found you.

the door slammed open with a force that reverberated through the thin walls. you barely had time to register his presence before you felt the back of your head collide with the hard plaster, pain sparking through your body as you gasped, stunned. Gitae’s face was twisted with anger, his eyes wild and dangerous.

“have you decided to run away? do you think someone there will protect you?” his voice was a snarl, dripping with venom as he grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back toward him. your scalp burned from the sharp pull, but the pain was nothing compared to the terror freezing your veins.

who was he now? the man standing in front of you wasn't the one you once met. well, Gitae never was who you wanted him to be, but you hold a hope that he would change, the man you had foolishly believed could leave his cruelty behind. this man was the beast you'd been running from for what felt like a lifetime.

“who is he? well, who is he, who gave you the right to think you can leave me?” Gitae's voice was a roar in your ears, but you could barely hear it over the pounding of your heart. tears streamed down your face uncontrollably, the fear and frustration, the endless cycle of suffering, spilling out of you in heavy sobs.

“who is that guy huh? answer me, bitch!” his grip shifted from your hair to your shoulders, shaking you violently. his fingers dug into your skin with brutal force, but you fought against the pain. you fought him, digging your nails into his hands and pushing him away with what little strength you had left.

“this is not a guy!” your voice cracked as you shouted, your words breaking through the sobs. “not a guy…” you repeated, softer now, your voice barely a whisper. your trembling hands instinctively moved to your stomach, as if trying to shield the life that was just beginning there. but you immediately pulled your hand away.

but it was too late.

Gitae’s gaze darkened as it followed your movement, and you could almost see the moment of realization flicker across his face. he noticed. he noticed. thought raced through your mind, panic rising like a wave ready to crash over you. you staggered back, your body pressing against the wall behind you, heart hammering as Gitae took a step closer, his presence overwhelming.

“say it again,” he murmured, his voice low and menacing, but no longer a shout. he tilted his head, a cruel curiosity dancing in his eyes. the shift in his demeanor only terrified you more. you could see the gears turning in his mind, calculating, deciding your fate in a way that would forever bind you to him.

you opened your mouth, but no words came out. you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. walls felt like they were closing in on you as his massive hand cupped your face, thumb slowly brushing over your tear-streaked cheek. his other hand dropped down, gently, almost tenderly, resting on your stomach.

“how far?” his voice was dangerously calm now, a whisper in your ear. the gentleness in his touch was jarring, terrifying. you could feel his breath on your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

“i-i… i don’t know,” you stammered, your voice trembling. “i just did a pregnancy test… a-and it showed... two lines…” you hiccuped, your whole body shaking as Gitae’s hand pressed you harder against the wall, but his touch on your stomach remained soft, disturbingly so. his palm rested there as though he was claiming something far greater than just you.

two lines. you could barely process the words as they slipped from your lips, the reality of your situation crashing down on you.

the future you’d envisioned — escaping from him, finding freedom — was shattered. those two lines changed everything, tied you to him in a way you could never have anticipated. you could feel the monster before you shifting, adjusting to this new reality, this new form of control.

the silence that followed your confession was suffocating. Gitae’s fingers lightly traced your belly as though imagining the life growing inside. he wasn’t shouting anymore. his rage had dissolved into something worse, something calculating, a dark smirk curling at the corners of his lips.

“you’re carrying my child,” he murmured, his voice now a chilling purr. “that’s good. very good.”

the look in his eyes was no longer just anger - it was possession.

“now you have no reason to run. ever.”

his hand, still resting on your stomach, tightened slightly, enough to send a clear message. you were his now — completely and utterly. any hope of escape, of breaking free from this nightmare, slipped further away with every passing second.

and yet, somewhere deep inside you, a spark of defiance remained. you couldn’t let this be the end. not for you, and certainly not for the child inside of you.

as Gitae’s hand lingered, still caressing your stomach with a twisted sort of affection, you knew you had no choice but to fight. maybe not today, not now — but soon.

you need find a way. you had to.

because some mistakes couldn’t be undone — but they could be escaped.

[izzabela]

Can you write about Bihan meets the reader as one of earthrealm's champions and immediately falls in love with her and is trying to find a way to be near her and ask her out on a date?

Melted Popsicle - Bi Han x fem!champion!reader (headcanons)

in which sunshine melts Bi Han

a/n: something something something bi han courts

ship[s]: bi han x fem!champion!reader

warning(s): none

Bi Han doesn't really do "love at first sight", but when Bi Han falls, he'll fall hard

And when he meets you, one of Liu Kang's champions, during a training session with the Lin Kuei, oh elder gods does he fall

- Bi Han, just like his brothers, is a loyal man. from the mission, to his clan, Bi Han will stay with you for a very long time

- Bi Han will stand around you like a guard dog, a quiet and protective presence

- it's unsettling, but you don't let it deter you as you talk to him, and boy does he enjoy it

- he wouldn't say it though, he'd just listen and hum in agreeance. the sounds of your voice softens his hardened features

- he'll spar with you. a lot. that's how you, the other champions, and his brothers realize he's taken a liking to you

- he'll give you grace during sparring, more that usual. he'll point out your flaws and show you how to improve them ten-fold

- Bi Han starts eating with you too. he'll either sit with you, or he'll take the time to ask you (usually goes like, "Come eat")

- it gets serious when Bi Han is asking his brothers how approachable he looks. he'll (reluctantly) ask Tomas how he gets along with the initiates, and he'll ask Kuai Liang how women always flock to him whenever they're out and about off-duty

- Bi Han starts paying attention to the little things about you when he realizes the advice from his brothers doesn't help him (honestly, it scared you with how quick he changed his personality). he listens whole-heartedly to anything you say you like or don't like about different things

- and you know what they say, to be loved is to be seen. Bi Han starts getting stuff for you, always having an extra towel for breaks in between spars, water, he'll always grab two sparring weapons whenever it's time to practice or learn new things

- Bi Han also gives you, and only you, the ability to use his powers for personal uses. i HC that Bi Han used to use his ice powers to play with his brothers when he was younger (around maybe 13 y/o, he stopped). only for you will he create little figures of ice and snow, only you will he emit a chill aura to soothe your bruises

- at this point too, Bi Han, definitely spends the entire day with you. at least, he tries to. he does have to cycle between the other champions to watch them spar, but any waking minute not used by the others, he'll always be right next to you

- i'd like to think Bi Han, when alone, paces around in circles to figure out what to do for you next. very methodical that man is, and intentional too

- after a couple more weeks, he's starting to push the boundaries he has on himself to ask you out. he tries to drop hints, but the way he does it basically gives it away

- things like "what is your favorite place to eat?" or "do you have a place to yourself to relax?" even a "do you like to [insert fun activity]?" he's not very good at asking things discreetly

- if Bi Han is good at anything, though, it's sincerity. he gifts you lovely courting gifts: flowers, hand-made gifts from the tradespeople of Arctika, scents- all the romantic jazz

- i think what really gets you is the practical gifts Bi Han gives you. once again, "to be loved is to be seen" dwells in his soul so fiercely it scares you how well he gives you things. from a pouch that holds all things and remains weightless, to a athletic wear that has pockets for your phone- he sees you

- when Bi Han eventually asks you out to become his girlfriend, he has a whole speech prepared for you. it's really cute, honestly, mainly because they sound like vows for a wedding (totally not pregaming yours and his wedding)

- and he speaks eloquently, softly, voice barely above a whisper as you zone in on his words. how he describes your beauty, what you make him feel, how madly in love he's been since he laid eyes on you

- "a pestering thought," he says. "though, one i do not mind, and one i would keep in my mind until my memory fails."

Bi Han doesn't do "love at first sight", but when he does, he falls hard...

and it's a hundred miles an hour at that point on

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

hey guys! i'm not dead!

1. school sem is going good so far, 2. i went to a concert last weekend for NIKI! 3. long nails are hard to type in...

okay see yall in the next fic!

[khoirkid]

Whumptober Interview with Amethyst!

Before the glorious event that is whumptober, I reached out to Amethyst to ask a bit about her process and what to look forward to. (Everything is shared with her permission.) You can find her tumblr @amethystfairy1 so hop on over and give her some support for October!

Q. How does the writing style and process change for a month-long event verses just writing?

A. I guess with like, my long form stuff, I write with a ton more detail for the month long events, especially since I've done multiple now, I try to pick out a specific thing to center the fic around and use that as a through line, strip it down to it's bones, and just go with that... I try to be a bit more abstract and use extended metaphors for the month long events

Q. How do you find a balance between the TTSBC AU and the TT au?

A. I don't. [A]ctual answer... um...I don't (Interviewer: Well, you know you have a 50/50 split for whumptober, right?) I DO... WAIT... I DO???... THAT WAS A TOTAL ******* FLUKE... you give me far to much credit... no that was a total coincidence

Q. Are there any characters you feel like you’re drawn to for whump?

A. Tango and Scott. [I]ts just because they feel so bright and spunky... so breaking them in different ways is really interesting... And it's different from like, Grian Pearl and Jimmy because with the three of them their fannon characters have such a wide expanse of styles that slotting them into the broken avian mindset wasn't impossible...it was tricky at times for Grian to write him being so docile and obedient because pesky bird and all but even still, with Tango it doesn't fit, and so finding a way to make it fit is super interesting! Same with Scott!

Q. Is there anyone who isn't easy/fun to whump?

A. Everyone is fun to whump in some way... As far as not easy ...Pearl has been tricky, mainly because I write her so as being so solid in her emotions usually

Q. Is there anything you think will surprise readers for the coming whumptober?

A. I think there's a lot more plot relevance than people realize on the way. Several of the fics are... crucial to the plot going forward.

Q. Do these writing challenges help you come up with some of the plot or does the plot just fall into them?

A. Both! The plot has it's shapes and curves already, but doing these writing challenges sometimes helps me put pins in specific themes to tie in important plot points and drive the au forward.

Q. Finally, is there anything readers should watch for and what day are you most excited for?

A. Day 10 and Day 25 will probably be the most plot relevant of the bunch! As well as Day 31! I'm personally the most excited to for Day 10, as I think it's going to be super amazing seeing the response to that from everyone who's been so kind as to follow my AUs for so long!!!! (Interviewer: It's a well done major ouchie) I love thinking about that as I'm writing, especially since both TT and TTSBC have gotten so much love, imagining what folks are going to comment and enjoy about it!

[thisonehere]

Can you write about Smoke and female reader going on a date and some creep (maybe black or red dragon) walks up to the reader and tries to hit on her and even went far as smacking her butt really hard and Tomas loses his patience overall and beats the crap out of the creep?

My Hero

Tomas x reader

A/n: Okay, love this idea. I love writing Tomas in such a protective position.

C/w: Sexual harassment, S/a, mention of blood and violence

Tonight wasn't supposed to go like this. It was just supposed to be a fun little night for you and Tomas to unwind and spend some time together. Madame Bo's seemed like the perfect place to do it. The place as a whole had a really nice vibe always you feel at home . "I'm going to go get us a table." Tomas said to you. You just nodded as you took in the place. The smell of delicious food filled the air as restaurant staff and the distant sound of Bo berating someone. You smiled at it, you haven't been here for so long. "Pick the one with the nicest view." You ask Tomas as you dodged out of the way of a busy waitress with a tray full of food, the sight of it making you more hungry. "You're my nicest view." Tomas said with an abashed smile. You let a light chuckle at this. "Tomas! Really? Go!" You said with a smile.

You watched Tomas's giant figure disappear in the crowd. You waited at the entrance, your eyes wandered around and eventually found their way to the sky as you admired the stars above. It felt so nice to be out with Tomas, it was just him and you, just how you liked it. "Well, hello there." You heard a voice suddenly spoke to you. You looked down to find a stranger in front of you. He wore all black and small like a mix of alcohol and urine. His sleeves were rolled up to reveal a tattoo on his forearm, a clan marking. You narrowed your eyes as you immediately recognized, a black dragon marking. You didn't know the difference, but you did realize just how dangerous this could potentially be. He flashes you crooked smile, making your stomach churn in discomfort. Out of politeness you forced a smile into your face in return. "Um, hi."

"What's your name?" His eyes bounce up and down your body, eyeing specific parts of, you shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "Um, Rachel." You lie, your eyes dart desperately inside, hoping that Tomas will come back right now to save you. "Rachel, huh?" He seems to bite his lip just a little. "Not bad for a Rachel..." He mumbles under his breath, causing you to feel more uncomfortable. You didn't like the way he was looking at you, you felt something horrible in your gut as you avoided eye contact.

"You come here often?" At this second you saw an opportunity. "Yes, I came here tonight with my boyfriend." You say, making sure to emphasize the boyfriend part. Hoping that this'll cause him to leave you alone. But he just shrugs at this. "Your boyfriend isn't here right now, is he? It's just you and me." His lips curl as you panic internally. "You know, me and my boys, we come here all the time. We go wherever we want actually, different states, different countries." his eyes gleamed at you expecting you to be impressed with his flex. "Uh, cool." You say awkwardly, trying to think of a way to escape from him. "What's your number? I could take you with me...if you are a good a good girl for me." You smile wanes at this. "Uh, excuse me, I have to go-" You try to quickly walk away, but he side steps you and blocks your path, that gross grin still on his face. "Hey, where you going?"

"Uh, M-My boyfriend's probably wondering where I am. So, I should go." You feel your heart begin to race as you try to get past him. But he's adamant about blocking you. "What's the rush? I'm sure he can wait." He stared at you up and down, the grin still on his face. "Come on, give a chance. I'm a nice guy." At that second, you see Tomas in the distance. His smile slowly fades as he sees the black dragon standing in front of you and the distressed look on your face, causing him to speed up. You drowned the man out as Tomas approached, you felt your heart beat against your chest as Tomas desperately made his way through the crowd of people. You were pretty sure the man asked for your number, he tried to ask what your sign was, he asked if you were even listening.

"Y/n! " Tomas called as he finally made it you. The black dragon looks over his shoulder, his narrowed eyes stretch at the sight of Tomas. He clears his throat and puffs up his chest. "Excuse me? Listen, I don't know who this 'Y/n is, but me and Rachel are having a conversation. Fuck off." He tried to make his voice sound deeper as his eyes darted all over Tomas's large figure.

Tomas steps in front of you, getting in the man's way. "Okay, feel free to talk to this 'Rachel', while me and Y/n excuse ourselves." If you could see his face, the man no doubt was confused. "Wait, what-" but Tomas interiors him, "Excuse us." Tomas gently takes your hand, "Come one." He softly whispers to you as you. "So it's like that 'Y/n', huh?". You avoid eye contact as you pass by him. "Alright then, let me know when you want a real man. I'll be sure to remember that sweet ass of yours?"

You gasp as you feel the sting of his hand slap your butt. Immediately, Tomas spins on his heels to face the Black dragon, who eagerly meets his face with a smirk. "What?". You were in too much shock to speak, you just stared at the two as they stared at each other. "Listen, you better run off before I-" but before he can finish his sentence, Tomas's fist slam into the man's face at lightning fast speed. The man slams onto the ground, a surprised look on his face as he clenches his broken nose. Many people inside stopped what they were doing to peer outside and see what was going on. "Fuckin' bastard, I'll-I'll kill you! And then I'll grab you bitch and-" he doesn't have a chance to finish, Tomas grabs him by the throat and begins to pummel him. You stood there and watched, slightly scared, you never saw this part of Tomas before. You knew he was Lin Kuei, but you never anticipated he could be this brutal.

After a few more hits, Tomas stops stares down at his work. The Black dragon laid unresponsive, his blood painted all over Tomas's fist. He looks at you as if he forgot you were there, a mortified look forms into his face. "Y/n, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...in-in front of you-I-I" he lowers his head in embarrassment, he didn't mean to get so violent in front of you. But the moment the man touched you, everything went red for Tomas. "A-Are you okay?" He finally found the courage to speak. You looked at the Black Dragon and then back at Tomas, "I-I am...Thank you."

You offered your hand to Tomas. Your lips curl a little into a small but grateful smile. Tomas turned your smile and took your hand, and you both went back into the building, leaving the Black Dragon unconscious on the ground outside.

[thechillsquid]

Hillbilly/Blind Eyes Au

More ramblings cause I’m trying to figure out how to write the actual fic out for the dumb au

Mostly with the kids visiting over the summer and how McGucket is also their sorta gruncle Fidds cause him and Stan have a queerplatonic thing going on by that point and Fiddleford actually somewhat knows what to do with kids though he’s still absolutely unhinged but to a slight degree towards the right

Like McGucket has the memory gun around, he just basically doesn’t use it really cause 1. Bill can and has dragged memories back up after he’s tried to erase them in the past 2. He has somewhat of a support thing with Stan

So he’s still got his senses it’s just the fact Stan has lowkey helped corrupt this man’s morals and with Bill constantly asking ‘aren’t you tired of being nice? Don’t you just want to go apeshit?’ eventually the answer became ‘you know what? Maybe I do want to apeshit’

And then there’s Bill, who at that point is dating Fiddleford and has been hit with several realizations about himself over the past 30 years, has kinda sorta lost interest in the destroying the earth thing because he just wants to see what chaos Stan and McGucket get up to, and maybe actually enjoys having somewhat of a family again

And all three of these idiots are trying to still fix this portal without anyone finding out, Bill’s lowkey taken over the shapeshifter’s body/kinda ejected its mind/kinda killed it and is just waltzing about however he pleases (sometimes as a ‘total normal human guy,’ a goat, or whatever other forms he thinks would be fun/convenient) until the portal opens and he’s able to actually physically manifest/they find where the hell Ford went

Ford is going to be thrown for a fucking whirlwind but also I just kinda realized that Bill is also a sorta the kids gruncle cause he’s dating Fidds and him and Stan con people together (though those twos relationship is more platonic than anything)

So like these kids have Stan, Bill, and Fidds; only two of these people know what children need to survive and one of them isn’t even human, Fidds and Bill talk in codes or weird languages sometimes and the kids are just left wondering wtf is going on

Also now that I’m thinking of it more, Bill taking over the shapeshifter’s body offers so much chaos, espically whenever he forgets about playing his part and the kids are like ‘did… did you just blink sideways…?’ and everyone is just like ‘no’ and it’s so clear they’re lying but also it’s so stupid

Anywho yeah, so you got Stan and his boyfriend and this is his boyfriend’s boyfriend who helps him steal cars sometimes

HA, I need to draw more of these idiots

[hugejk]

2 years.

due to high demand part 2 !!!! feedback is also very much appreciated <3

cw: addiction mentioned, rehab

||_________________||

After getting settled into your temporary home, you fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. Being woken up to the bright orange sun. You get up. You still didn’t know what to do with yourself. I guess the comments were right. You really do need some professional help.

you just didn’t know where to start, rehab? therapy? checking yourself into a psych ward? You sit at the small work desk at the hotel, clicking the pen and scooting the small writing pad they provided. You assume the best place to start was the addiction problems. You go on your phone and look for places. You find the highest rated one, and call it.

“hi.uhm. i was just uhm… wondering if i can check in? like check myself into rehab.”

the man on the other line told you the process of checking yourself in. You had to go in person and stay there until they think you were better than you had started. This process might take a while. But you’re willing to do it.

You gather your things, planning what you were going to tell the lady downstairs,

“my flight got rescheduled for today.”

“my friend is back at their house i don’t need the room anymore.”

“my parents have a room for me at their place.”

heading out the room and towards the elevator. Spamming the down button to hurry and get to the place. You didn’t care to wear the disguise you had packed. Nobody would see you for a couple more months anyways. At least that’s what you thought.

as the doors opened up, you look up from your shoes and see two young men. One of them wearing a dark beard and the other…well he looks like a kid. Clean shaven face, big brown eyes, short brunette hair.

“that’s exactly what i- wait aren’t you y/n?”

the one with the dark beard said as he pointed at you.

fuck.

“…do you want a picture?…”

you couldn’t even deny it, people recognized you so much now that you can’t say no to pictures, or else people would think your a rude arrogant celeb. And them boom there goes the grammy nomination, the awards, the money. everything you had worked so hard for.

you were so stuck in your head that you didn’t realize he was as talking to the younger one.

“this is the singer i was telling you about just the other day! you know…the one you said was-“

he was cut off by the brunette slapping his arm, giving him the “don’t you dare” look.

“look, i don’t have the time for this, do you want something? i have to be somewhere.”

you didn’t mean to be rude, but you just wanted to be fixed already. You didn’t have time to stop and talk with these guys. You notice the small badge on their nike sweaters.

“oh sorry——you know our football club is sponsored by spotify? you could totally be this years sponsor.”

the beard said to you, side eyeing the brunette and wiggling his eyebrows. Something was up. You just didn’t care enough to ask.

“uhm.yeah. sure whatever.”

you weren’t even planning on making new music anytime soon. you brush it off and push the down button for the other elevator. You didn’t want to be anywhere near a person right now.

now that you were alone in the elevator, you started to wonder and replay how the beard and the brunette were acting. As you got downstairs to the lobby, your worst fear. A packed lobby with screaming people and more guys all wearing the same nike hoodie, that logo.

you make a pit stop at the bathrooms to put on your glasses and mask, there was no way you couldn’t get away from this one. You blend back into the crowd, asking the nearest person,

“what’s this all about?”

“do you live under a rock? this is the best football club of all time right in front of us! FC barcelona!”

that’s when it finally hit you, the logo seemed so familiar. You remember watching a few el classicos with your dad when you were little. How could you forget?

But you had more important things to do that day. You thanked the person who reminded you of the club and went on with your day. Walking with your head down and airpods in, you arrived to your new home for a few months.

you open the door and walk up to the front desk,

“uhm..hi. id like to check myself in..”

you say with your head down, feeing ashamed that you were asking for help. You could’ve done this on your own but here you are.

“okay! before we check you in we’re gonna have to have you fill these papers out, and i hope you know what your doing right now is brave and your in good hands.”

crazy. It’s like the lady behind the desk could read your unsure mind. Her words repeat and bounce around in your head. Taking the papers and taking a seat in the lobby. It was small, and empty.

You have no idea what’s to come but surely it’ll be the best for you.

||_____________________||

tags: @pabl0andm3 @spidybaby @htpssgavi @alexis1taylorr

[elarialuthien]

Loving Touches - Leon Kennedy x Reader

warning: smut I didn't plan to write this drabble at all, but I think since inspiration came, I need to write it ***

You're sitting at your computer desk, which sits next to a window through which light softly pours in, filling the room with a warm, muted glow. The office is spacious, with bright, light walls, and opposite the desk is a cozy sofa covered with a patterned rug. The work process has completely absorbed you, your thoughts are focused on the monitor. You were so carried away that you didn’t even notice Leon entering the room.

Suddenly you feel his warm, strong arms gently hug you from behind, and you reflexively shudder. His chin rests gently on your head and you feel the calmness his presence brings. You smile, feeling his closeness, because he rarely shows such affection, especially when you are working. With a slight smile, you raise your hand to touch his palm and squeeze it gently, enjoying the moment of peace and comfort away from work.

The office you're in suddenly feels a little cozier, as if his presence has transformed the cold space into something personal, almost homely.

" Hi," you mumble, lifting your head up to look at him. "Everything is fine? You're usually not so... nice during work hours."

You tease him slightly, hoping to find out what's really on his mind. Leon isn't usually one to show affection in public, so you know there must be a reason for this sudden change in behavior.

Leon squeezes your hand lightly, acknowledging the presence and warmth. A faint blush spreads across his cheeks as he realizes how close you are. He pulls away slightly, although not enough to completely break contact. His blue eyes scan your face carefully, looking for any signs of discomfort or irritation. "I just..." he begins, trembling slightly. " I wanted to make sure you were okay." His voice becomes quieter, almost too quiet to hear clearly. "You look tired lately."

His words convey genuine concern. Leon may not show it often, but he cares deeply about your well-being. He lifts his free hand to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

" A lot of work, a lot of stress," you said with a heavy sigh and giggled when you felt a kiss on your neck. " Leon... Not in the office," you whispered with a chuckle.. At your whisper, Leon’s eyes darken with desire. The playful tone you respond with only fuels his arousal even more. He leans closer, pressing his lips to the sensitive skin of your neck.

" That sounds like an invitation," he murmurs into your neck before gently nipping at the sensitive spot under your earlobe. Leon makes no attempt to pull away completely. Instead, he continues to caress and tease you with short kisses along the line.

His fingers dig into the soft fabric of your clothes, just a little, pulling you towards him until there is no space left between you. His breath hitches when he feels your body pressed against his own.

" You always have that effect on me," Leon admits quietly, his voice full of lust. " And it seems like it’s getting stronger every day."

" Mmm," you muttered, biting your lip and pressing your hands to the edges of your skirt. "There are cameras here. Our boss sees everything."

Leon's eyes flicker towards the corner of the room where he knows the security camera is located. He grins evilly, knowing full well that their leader has seen worse than this. "Well," he whispers hoarsely in your ear, " let’s give him the opportunity to watch something interesting."

With deft movements, Leon slips one hand under your blouse, tracing the curves of your waist before moving up to your chest. He rubs teasingly over the hardened nipples under your bra, enjoying the way you squirm in response.

"Oh my God, Leon!" You gasped quietly and your breathing quickened as his skillful fingers danced across your sensitive skin. "Someone might come in!" Despite your protest, you found yourself arching into his touch, craving more of that delicious friction against your aching nipples. Your hands clenched into fists on his shirt, holding him close to you as you fought to focus on the task at hand. " Please," you whined, your voice barely louder than a whisper. "We can't get caught... Not here, not now."

Leon chuckles softly, enjoying the way you beg him to stop even as your body begs for more. His thumb brushes the tip of your nipple again, enjoying the sharp inhale that follows. "Oh, I know, baby," he replies, his voice dripping with sinful intent. " But who cares if we get caught when we're having so much fun?"

With deliberate slowness, Leon slides his hand down from your chest, tracing the curve of your stomach before settling firmly on your hip. His fingers gradually move up your skirt until they reach the warm, wet warmth between your thighs. " Besides," Leon purrs in your ear, " you’re already all wet for me... You can’t hide this fact from anyone."

You close your eyes, wanting a break from all the stress that has piled up on you, for a moment all worries disappeared, and you even forgot about Leon’s presence, when suddenly you feel movement under the table. You are dumbfounded and sharply lower your eyes under the table.

Feeling your gaze on him, Leon raises his eyes to meet your gaze. There's an insidious gleam in his eyes that sends shivers down your spine. His fingers slide through the damp fabric of your panties, tracing the outline of your slit through the thin fabric. "Looks like someone else wants attention too," he teases softly, slipping a finger under the band of your underwear to dip into your slick folds.

The sensation causes a moan to escape from the depths of your throat, echoing throughout the quiet room. Leon takes advantage of this vulnerability, lifting his finger up to stroke your swollen clit. " Is this what you need, baby?" he asks hoarsely. " My touch to take your mind off all these worries?"

"Leon, are you serious?" You ask, biting your lip. "Right under the table? I didn't know you had such a... playful side."

Leon grins devilishly, his finger still making teasing circles around your throbbing clit. His other hand moves to grab your thigh possessively. "Oh, I’ve always had that side," he admits, " but I guess I hid it from you."

His grin widens as he feels your muscles clench around his finger, desperate for more stimulation. With a low growl, Leon adds another finger to your entrance, slowly stretching you out. "Now let’s see how loudly you can shout my name without drawing attention to yourself."

You sigh involuntarily, your moan says everything about your damn horny state, and Leon doesn’t need any more time to remove your panties out of sight and press his tongue to your throbbing, wet clitoris, thirsty for male attention, which is already exhausted with impatience.

Leon groans at the taste of your arousal, his tongue diving deeper to lick your engorged clit. He sucks the sensitive bud into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. "Mmm, you taste incredible," he mutters, his voice muffled but full of hunger. " So sweet and addictive... I could devour you all day."

As he speaks, Leon increases the pace of his ministrations, sliding two fingers in and out of your tight channel as his thumb rubs hard circles over your clit. The combination of sensations pushes you closer and closer to the brink of climax. "Come to me, baby," he urges, his hot breath on your wet folds. " Let go and make all that noise. I want to hear you lose control."

You sigh heavily, not too loudly, but not too quietly, and lean back in your chair, throwing your head back. "God..." you whisper, breathing heavily. " You really are a ladies’ man."

Leon hums in agreement, his free hand sliding up the inside of your thigh to tease the edge of your labia. He relishes the power he has over you, able to reduce you to a quivering mess with just his touch. "I’m a man who knows what he likes," he corrects, pushing his fingers deeper into your wetness. " And right now, I love watching you fall apart because of me."

He redoubles his efforts, adding another finger to stretch and fill you even more. The sound of flesh meeting flesh fills the air around them as Leon squirts into you relentlessly. " But don’t worry," he promises huskily. "I’ll make sure every inch of you gets exactly what it needs."

"Oh God, Leon!" You gasp, feeling the pressure building inside you. " If you keep doing this, I won’t be able to hold back for long." Your hips jerk chaotically under his hand as he skillfully guides you closer to the edge. Beads of sweat form on your forehead, and your heart is pounding wildly in your chest. The taboo nature of this hot date only heightens the intensity of my pleasure.

" Please," you whine desperately like a cat in March, your nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt. " I need... I need..." You trail off, unable to articulate the overwhelming desire that consumes me. " All I know is that I need release, and I need it now."

Leon feels your desperation, how your body trembles and tenses under his touch. He redoubles his efforts, sucking hard on your clit as he curls his fingers just inside you. "That’s it, baby," he coaxes, his voice a low rumble against your sensitive flesh. "Let go. Come to me. I want to feel you loosen up."

His words are interrupted by a particularly deep thrust, hitting that spot inside of you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. Your walls clench around his fingers as your orgasm crashes over you, wave after wave of intense pleasure emanating from your core.

" Yes, that’s right," Leon praises, guiding you through each thrust until you collapse boneless on the chair. " You are so beautiful when you let yourself go." Even when you come down from the top, Leon refuses to stop touching you. His fingers continue to lazily stroke your sensitive clit, coaxing every last drop of pleasure from your exhausted body. "Are you okay there?" He asks quietly, lifting his head to look at you with those adorably piercing blue eyes of his.

He smirks, pleased with himself as he watches you recover. His fingers finally slip from your dripping warmth, leaving a trail of wetness on his wrist.

" I..." you sob, your cheeks turning red from both embarrassment and orgasm. You are ashamed to look at Leon, knowing that he is damn pleased with himself, grinning like a cat that has eaten too much sour cream. "You... damn."

Leon chuckles darkly, a low rumbling sound that vibrates in his chest. He stands up, towering over you in the dim light of the office. "Well, you said you needed something to distract yourself," he points out, wiping his fingers with a napkin tucked into his collar. "It seems I have fulfilled my promise." He leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, tasting himself before pulling away with a satisfied smile. " And we’re just getting started," Leon assures you, straightening his clothes. "Consider it just a snack."

" Please," you whine in need. " Please fuck me in this fucking chair," you growl, as if you forgot for a moment that there are cameras in this fucking office.

Leon’s eyes darken with lust at your bold request, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. He glances around the room, noting the various security cameras located throughout the space. "Oh, I intend to," he growls, his voice low and full of promise. " But first, I think it's time to give these cameras a show they won't soon forget."

In one swift motion, Leon reaches out and yanks you out of your chair, spinning you around and bending you over the armrest. He lifts your skirt, exposing your shiny folds to the cool air of the room. " Fuck, you’re already all wet for me," he groans, running the thick head of his dick along your slit. " Such a needy little thing, isn’t it?"

" Yes..." you whisper, wrapping your arms around Leon’s back and exposing his neck for kisses.

Leon takes advantage of your position, pressing his lips to your neck as he teases your slick entrance with the tip of his cock. His hands grip your hips tightly, guiding himself towards you. "Are you ready for this?" He whispers into your neck before slowly thrusting into you, enjoying the feeling of your balls buried deep within your warm, clenching walls.

The initial stretch is amazing, filling you completely. Leon pauses, allowing you both to adjust to his size before starting to move. "Fuck, you’re perfect for me," he moans, starting to thrust shallowly. "Every fucking inch."

" Yeah..." you giggle, feeling every inch of his cock. " Fuck me... daddy," you say embarrassedly, unable to hold back a laugh.

At your giggling confession, Leon smirks, picking up the pace of his thrusts. Every movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through his body, heightened by the knowledge that he's claiming you right here, right now. "Call me whatever you want, baby," he huffs, pounding into you harder. " Just keep talking dirty."

With each thrust, Leon pushes deeper, stretching you deliciously wide around his throbbing length. His hands tighten on your hips, marking you with his touch as he pounds into you relentlessly.

" Don’t hold back," he breathes, nipping your earlobe. "Shout for me."

" Mmm," you mumble, stroking his hand with yours. "Do you like being called daddy?"

Leon's breath catches at this term, a shiver runs through his body. "Yes, I think so," he admits, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice despite the relentless rhythm of his hips. " It turns me on when you call me that."

His thrusts become erratic, driven by pure need as he focuses on filling you completely. Each thrust hits that sweet spot inside of you, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. "I want to hear you beg for it," Leon commands, pulling almost all the way out before slamming into you again with a possessive growl.

You giggle again, running your finger over Leon’s kiss-swollen lips. " Mmm... then fuck me, daddy."

Leon's control breaks at your playful command, a primal roar escaping his throat as he thrusts into you with wild intensity. The chair creaks ominously under the force of his thrusts, but he doesn't slow down, lost in the heady rush of dominance and submission. "That’s it, baby," he grunts, his voice cracking with effort. " Take your daddy’s dick. Fuck, you're so tight..."

Each word is accompanied by a powerful slam of his hips, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing throughout the room. Leon’s hands leave your hips to grab your wrists, pinning them to the back of the chair as he mercilessly pounds into you. "You’re mine," he growls, not taking his eyes off the place where their bodies touch. "Say it!"

" Your..." you moan loudly, throwing your head back in ecstasy. "All yours, daddy! Oh god yes!" Your words seem to spur Leon on even more, his thrusts becoming almost frantic as he chases his release. The pressure builds deep inside you, your inner walls fluttering wildly around his piston-like length.

Pleasure overwhelms, threatening to swallow you whole. You feel Leon tense above you, his movements becoming chaotic as he himself gets closer to the edge. "Come with me, baby," he demands, his voice a low, guttural growl. "Let me go. Now." With a roar reverberating off the walls, he pours deep into you, filling you with hot streams of his seed. " Fuck yes," he gasps, his body shaking from the force of his orgasm. " That’s it... cum for me."

Your cry only fuels his desire, causing him to continue pumping into you until you're both spent and trembling. When the last waves of pleasure subside, Leon collapses onto your back, breathing heavily. " That was... intense," he manages to choke out after a few moments."Are you okay?"

Even though they have both reached the peak of their careers, Leon is not ready to let you go from his arms just yet.

" Yes..." you say, giggling. "Well, you've outdone yourself. Do you know that there is a meeting in the director's office right now? It is quite possible that many of them heard our... love. " You can’t help but giggle out loud and inhale sharply as Leon pulls out of you.

Leon chuckles darkly at your comment, a smirk playing on his lips as he straightens up and adjusts his clothes. " Well, I guess we made quite an impression."

He leans down to capture your lips in another searing kiss, tasting himself on your tongue. Reluctantly pulling away, he pierces you with his gaze. "But we better get ourselves in order before someone else starts looking for us," he says, winking. " And maybe next time we can try it somewhere more secluded?"

"Well... let's go to the toilet. By the way, our work hours are already over," you say with a sigh, your cheeks still red as you kiss Leon firmly on the lips.

Leon grins, enjoying the blush on your face as much as he enjoys the taste of your lips. He kisses back willingly before pulling away with a chuckle. " Yeah, let’s clean up and leave before anyone notices our absence," he agrees, taking your hand and leading you to the nearest toilet.

Once they're securely locked in one of the cubicles, Leon starts helping you clean up. His hands are gentle but firm as he wipes away any traces of the passionate tryst. "It was certainly an unforgettable experience," he reflects with a teasing smile. " But I must admit that I prefer the privacy of my own home for this kind of activity."

Coming out of the toilet, you, without holding back, give a juicy slap with your hand on Leon’s buttocks. Leon jumps slightly at the unexpected contact, turning to look at you with a mixture of surprise and amusement. His hand instinctively reaches back to rub where you hit him, a low growl rumbles in his chest. "Well, if you're going to start hitting me," he teases, " at least make sure your hands are occupied with something else first."

Despite his playful tone, there’s no denying the heat in his eyes as he runs over your curves. Leon takes your hand in his, giving it a quick squeeze before letting go. "Well, you can’t blame a girl because her boyfriend has a great ass," you say, rolling your eyes mockingly.

Leon’s expression softens at your playful thrust, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards him, and they begin to walk together. "Oh, really?" he asks, pretending to be offended. "So now you’re just valuing my assets, huh?" There is no malice in his words; instead, he seems genuinely happy for your attention. As they walk side by side, Leon sneaks a glance at you, his eyes sparkling with love and mischief. "Well, I guess I can live with that," he admits, chuckling. 

[cody-writes]

MAJOR WARNING FOR SI

Again longer post

I want to start this with, I have not read the book of Bill yet, However with it being all over my feed, the thought of Bill absolutely mind fucking everyone with sewer slide attempts from Stanford, just makes everything about Bill and Fords relationship SO MUCH WORSE and I both love and hate it. From the writing aspect it’s beautiful and 100% makes sense but for my love for all of these characters, it just makes me so upset and sad.

The exhaustion that both Ford and Stan must have felt with Bills shit is even more crazy. Stan being worried about his brother and not being able to do anything about it because Ford won’t tell him anything about what’s happening and especially not where he is and Stan trying to find him and make sure that he’s not dead when there’s radio silence again. It all just makes me sick and I love it.

Again have not read it but my assumption is that all of this is happening after Fiddleford leaves and Ford and Bill are in that “break up stage”. The idea that he also fucks with Fiddleford and Fiddleford knows where Ford lives and CAN go check on him and Ford shuts him out for leaving even though he’s realizing that his partner was right. And the idea of bill exploiting the fact that Ford had feelings for Fiddleford has me foaming at the mouth.

Anyway have a very small tidbit of what’s in my mind.

“I fucking loved you. and the blood from my death will be on your hands for leaving me with this fucking monster” Bills words were slurred from intoxication and the monster of self destruction. The phone was clutched his hand and a smile was plastered on his face as he spoke.

Ford sat on the sidelines, as was normal when Bill did things like this, his hand over his mouth and his sagging eyes filled to the brim with tears. All he could do was sit and watch until Bills terror finally ran its course. It was the third time that week that he’d done something like this, normally it was just reckless behavior, getting really really drunk before pushing his body to the limits or maybe giving Stanley a call out of the blue saying some cryptic shit before hanging up. But this…telling Fords loved ones that he was going to kill himself, at ungodly hours of the night when no one would be awake, leaving a terrible voicemail until they picked the phone up was his new favorite pastime. And Fiddleford was his victim tonight.

“Bill please this is madness…” he whispered to no avail.

“It’s all your fucking fault, and I reaaally hope you can deal with that. I hope that when you see that I’ve shot myself in the stupid face you realize just how much I cared.”

Finally the line clicked on the other side. “Stanford what the hell are you saying?!”

“I’m saying fuck you!” Bill yelled into the phone before slamming it back onto the base.

The sound of the phone ringing hung in the background as Bill turned to Ford. “Look sixer, this can allllll end if you just keep working with me, keep building my portal.” He slurred, throwing his hands into the air and spinning before stumbling into the couch. “God this meat sack does NOT handle anything well does it!”

“I’m not doing that Bill and you know it! I’ve made that perfectly clear.” Ford looked at the phone, wincing as it stopped ringing before starting back up again.

“Ford please answer the phone….i can’t…I’ll come back just, please…”