#i should save these up and post them over time but do i give a fuck? not really

[ymiwritesstuff]

Lack of You | Ch. 5

UHHHH HI!! Listen I'm so so sorry this once again took so long!! Like, the burnout hit at the WORST time because this one is supposed to be THE chapter, you know? A lot of important stuff and all. But once again, this one is VERY long, which I hope compensates for the wait. Thank you SO much for the support and patience and I hope you guys will enjoy this and that people are still reading this ;-;

Genshin Impact

Yandere!Childe/Tartaglia x Fem!Reader

Summary: It had been months since your arrival in Liyue, and the world around you didn't seem so sad and cruel anymore. During one of Liyue's most significant festivals, you find yourself absorbing emotions you hadn't felt or accepted in years. And in the center of them all, was your savior.

Notes: 18+, Fluff, Smut, unprotected sex, fingering, vaginal sex, "lovemaking", we finally fuck Zhongli wohooo

Ch.1 | Ch.2 | Ch.3 | Ch.4 | Ch.5

Also posted on AO3!

18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Zhongli was not blind. And he certainly was no fool either. He had lived for long enough to know how the human mind functioned and how one responded to traumatic events of the past. He knew all too well, and when the opportunity to help someone in need presented itself, he could not overlook it.

He wondered if he had been too invasive, too eager to offer his assistance, but he justified his doubts by telling himself that it was the right thing to do. Given who he was, he felt responsible for the people of Liyue he held so dear, and even though you had drifted to the region fueled by determination to escape, you had quickly adopted the harbor as your home and tried to rebuild your life. And it had worked, much to his relief.

It had been a few months. The seeds of progress he had planted from the moment he saw you on that rainy day were finally beginning to sprout. You had gotten more active, completing every errand he had tasked you with the utmost diligence and efficiency. He was more than pleased to see this, as the primary motivation for this part of the contract was to give you something to occupy your mind with that wasn’t your dark and heavy memories.

Zhongli still did not know everything, nor was he necessarily desiring to. When you first met him and as time went on, he made his own less than gracious conclusions that were far from pleasant. He noticed the little signs that showed through your behavior, how you initially avoided making contact with his eyes, instead opting for the ground, and how your form was frequently taut and cautious, giving glances behind you as if someone was following you.

All that and more told him all he needed to know.

His curiosity was far from extinguished, though, but he would not attempt to kill it by asking or even insinuating that he wanted to know more. The unwritten boundaries set between you two would stay up unless you yourself wanted to bring them down. Zhongli wished to create something in which you felt safe enough to open up should you feel the need to do so.

And to an extent, he had managed that. No longer were your shoulders tense from anxiety around him nor did your voice disappear as you spoke. Your previously dull, almost lifeless eyes had regained their fire and instead of looking at him with uncertainty or doubt, he only saw perseverance and tenacity.

He had somewhat kept his distance out of respect for your outer limits, but as time went by he noticed you seeking him out more and more. Occasional conversations over tea became a part of your life in Liyue, and during these mundane meetings, Zhongli started observing the healing.

For a human, your strength was admirable, and as the man who had saved and guided you, he could say with confidence that he was proud of your progress.

In a way, his duty had been fulfilled. You knew Liyue like the back of your hand and did not require his assistance navigating the region. That meant that your interactions had developed into something more informal, which both he and you appreciated greatly.

You had not strayed away from him, which had been something he had considered you doing throughout your healing. Instead, you opened up to him, telling him about your life back in Snezhnaya, however, carefully dancing around the fragile ice that guarded the horrible events that had led you to Liyue.

It was only partially because you did not want to relive the memories and would have rather left them in the past. Still, in reality, even if you wanted to let him into the once-decayed graveyard that was your mind, you would not have been able to tell him everything.

For you couldn’t remember it all.

The life you had been coveting ever since your escape was at your fingertips, but at the cost of losing the majority of the memories that used to haunt you. It frightened you, if only slightly. Reliving everything, again and again, was the last thing you wanted, but perhaps in the back of your mind, you felt distressed at how seemingly and surprisingly simple it had been. Your memory had started to fade mere weeks into your arrival, but what scared you possibly the most was the fact that the danger was not entirely over.

No matter how much of your recollection disappeared into the void, you always remembered him. The things he had done to you were a blur, but the image of his eerily calm yet unhinged face was crystal clear. And you feared it.

The possibility of him finding you at this point was unlikely, and forcing you back home even more so. You had the adepti and Mr. Zhongli’s protection, not to mention the fact that the strict operations of the Fatui most likely kept Childe so busy, that he had no time to pursue anything or anyone else. In hindsight, you were glad he had joined that wretched group, for it gave you some much-needed peace of mind.

All in all, you were safe, that much you knew for certain. The only things disturbing you were small images and flashes of him, but you endured them because unlike the real him, they could not hurt you.

“So, what happened next?” Shu asked with an almost knowing smile on her lips and a teacup in her hands as if she already knew what you’d say next as you recalled the events from the other day. You chuckled before you continued.

“She was so exhausted she fell face-first into the pile of Glaze Lillies we had just gathered,” you concluded, laughter escaping your lips with the last few words. The fresh image of someone as proper and punctual as Ganyu succumbing to something so trivial as exhaustion amused you greatly, though you felt bad for the girl and the embarrassment that she clearly felt after she awoke.

“Poor Ganyu,” Shu said, placing her cup on the outdoor table upon which you two sat. “When will she realize that she can’t keep overworking herself like this?”

You stifled a laugh, noticing the humorous glimmer in her eyes. “It’s been how many millennia now, Shu? I think it will take at least five more.”

A joyous laughter from both of you filled the air as you went in for another sip of that delicious jasmine tea you had become familiar with. The taste brought you comfort, as did Shu’s company.

After a ridiculous amount of time spent worrying about and going over how you could even begin to ask forgiveness from the thoughtful nurse after what had occurred, you eventually managed to do so and apologize. As selfish as it sounded, you had been afraid to lose her and the possible help you could have received from her. It was thanks to her that you were back on your feet and it was her that had basically kickstarted all the positive things that had happened to you. You were beyond grateful.

Shu was a kind woman, her gaze was always warm and welcoming, so it shouldn’t have been such a shock to you when she forgave you without hesitation. 

After that, things returned to as they were when you first arrived, except this time you felt lighter, rid of the feelings of doubt that had bothered you so. Shu continued offering you her support, much more than you thought was appropriate for a simple nurse-patient relationship.

However, it didn’t take you too long to realize that Shu was more than a nurse who doted on you. She had become a friend and an irreplaceable one at that.

Shu glanced at the pier not too far away, that pleasant smile never disappearing. She watched as the people worked tirelessly making the final preparations for the night’s event. The entire harbor was even more full of life than usual and for a good reason.

“This year’s Lantern Rite will be truly phenomenal.” She turned back to you with that familiar kindness in her expression. “I’m glad you’ll be able to experience it tonight.”

Your smile mirrored hers. You had heard of the old tradition many times during your time in Liyue and soon came to understand its importance. You could only imagine the brilliance and warmth that the festival gave birth to during this time of year. The people began making preparations early on, and seeing the progress coming to an end filled you with a fresh sense of excitement you hadn’t felt previously. 

“I can’t wait.” You turned back to her. “I’ve never seen fireworks, you know?”

Shu’s smile seemed to widen if that was even possible at this point.

“Oh, you’re going to love them! They only get better each year.” Her hazel eyes wandered to the afternoon sky as she reminisced about all the beautiful works of art that had decorated the heavens for all these years. From the look on her face alone, you could deduce that she adored the event, seemingly more than the average citizen.

“Will you be watching them with Yingyue?” You asked, curious about the woman Shu had talked so fondly about in the past. It was clear to you from the way her face lit up every time the name was merely mentioned that the nurse felt a certain way about her. This time was no exception.

“Ah… I haven’t asked her yet. Do you think she’d want to join me?”

Her question made you scoff and roll your eyes as to you the answer was more than obvious. 

“Of course I do. Didn’t you say that your last meeting went well? I can’t think of any reason why Yingyue wouldn’t want to spend more time with you,” you encouraged, which seemed to put Shu at ease, the warmth on her cheeks never disappearing. Her eyes found the ground but her smile prevailed.

“Yes. I think you are right.” You gave her a smug grin and finished the last drops of your tea.

“I know I am,” you said as you stood up. “In fact, I’m so certain she’ll say yes that you are going to go ask her right now.” Shu’s smile quickly disappeared and her face twisted into shock.

“What?! Right now?? (Name) I can’t do that!” She exclaimed, to which you giggled and gathered your things.

“Sure you can. I have to go run some errands now.” You looked at her with an expression that could have been described as jokingly serious.

“I better see you with her tonight or else the evil spirit of ‘having-an-awful-time-at-the-Lantern-Rite-because-I-didn’t-invite-a girl-with-me’ will haunt you forever!” You spread your palms and held them in front of you in an exaggeratedly dramatic attempt to terrify her.

Something inside you cringed at your actions. Director Hu was so much better at this.

Still, Shu laughed cheerfully, much to your joy. “Alright alright. I’ll go ask her.” A satisfied smile made its way onto your lips as you basked in your small success. 

“Good. So, I’ll see you two later tonight?” While your voice held some mischievousness, you had been genuinely wanting to meet this girl who was the partial source of Shu’s happiness. That emotion stuck to you as well, you didn’t remember the last time someone else’s joy had been this contagious.

Shu nodded. “Thank you for the encouragement, truly.” She bowed her head, a custom you were more than used to at this point, so much so that you instinctively did the same, before you began your departure.

You felt content with your accomplishment, despite it being rather ordinary. Shu had helped you tremendously throughout the months, so you were glad you were able to provide her with a bit of assistance of your own. It was the least you could do.

Though you felt like nothing you did would be truly enough to repay for everything she had done for you. For what had felt like an eternity, you had only known monsters that wore the cloak of the people you thought were allies, and betrayal in its rawest form. You had been fooled, forced to be the center of a twisted desire, and corrupted beyond all that once made sense. Losing all faith in everything that you once thought kept you safe. People, laws, and even the Archons had all failed you, which only left a bitter taste and distrust in your heart, one you thought could never be redeemed.

However, people like Shu gave you hope and restored that lost trust in the world. She and everything else in Liyue was like a blessing that you had long needed to survive.

As you walked around the decorated harbor, you greeted some of the locals you had become familiar with. With your work for the funeral parlor came opportunities to socialize and help the people, some of whom you had become especially acquainted with. It was rewarding and helped you form a sense of security within the region that had once felt so unsafe.

Liyue felt like your home more than ever before, and participating in the Lantern Rite would solidify your position as a citizen of the harbor. That’s how it felt to you at least, the locals and others had welcomed you long ago. Being a part of something so vital to Liyue felt fulfilling, and further allowed you to put behind the regrets of the past and the cold that had followed you all the way from Snezhnaya.

You barely thought of the icy region anymore. You had no reason to, nor did you want to. The Tsaritsa’s plan of which you did not know the details, was in motion and you were sure nothing would deter Her Majesty and her vile Harbingers in their pursuit of domination. That, however, had little effect on you anymore.

Your legs led you to the heart of the harbor, where people walked and ran around, applying the finishing touches to make the surroundings look as festive as possible. Lanterns were painted, and fireworks were being prepared for their grand launch. The atmosphere was so different, yet familiar at the same time. The busy streets were no strange sight to you, however, as you stood in the middle of the preparations for the biggest festival of the region, you couldn’t help but feel special.

As you took in the view, your eyes wandered to one of the many shops. You didn’t recall ever seeing this one before, which led you to surmise that it was one of those stalls opened only during the festival. Shu had told you about them, and apparently, they were favored by tourists who traveled to the harbor for the Lantern Rite. By the looks of it, Shu’s explanation made sense. The shop was filled with what you could call souvenirs, items, and gems from the region that people could take home with them to remind them of their journey.

However, what caught your eye was something placed right in front of the shop. A dress. The kind of dress you had seen some of the wealthier locals wear from time to time. The colors were light, and the fabric looked airy and comfortable. You couldn’t look away.

In your admiration, you slowly walked to it, which prompted the cheerful clerk to turn to you. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” You merely hummed a response, fingers carefully lifting one of the long sleeves that looked so inviting. The silk was smooth to the touch, and the delicate flower embroidery on the midsection stretched all the way to the top part of the neatly pleated skirt.

The dress was rather modest. With a high neckline that folded into a cross-collar and a ribbon that coiled around the waist, it gave an aura of elegance and beauty, unlike anything you had seen before. You ran your hand down the front, feeling the fabric and silently admiring the craftsmanship.

“You’re not the first one to look at it so longingly.” You finally looked at the clerk, who had somewhat of a regretful expression on their face. “I’m afraid the price is a bit too much for most. It’s one of a kind after all.”

Curiosity stuck to you, and you glanced at the price tag. Wow. The clerk wasn’t lying, it was quite out of the league of average citizens. It didn’t surprise you though, the dress was stunning. With the revelation, a thought sprouted in your head:

You could afford it.

You thought about it for a second. The dress was beautiful, and you had managed to gather a good amount of mora with which you only ever bought food and other things meant to aid in living. You had never bought anything you could describe as… Fun. Tonight would be special. People would gather together and marvel at the beauty of the festival. It was no ordinary event and thus no ordinary clothes would be appropriate.

If you were to look your best, might as well do it right.

“I’ll take it.”

~

As the sun was nearing the horizon, painting the sky with colors of comforting warmth, your errand run was coming to an end. You had never burned this much mora on a single trip but felt strangely fulfilled. The dress you bought was carefully folded in a bag and you made sure to take especially good care of it before you would wear it. You’ll never forget the overjoyed expression of the clerk. The image brought a smile to your face.

The charm of the souvenir shop left an impression on you and made you wonder what wonders the other regions of Teyvat housed. Maybe one day you would set foot into nearly every corner of the world, gaping at the cultures and sceneries, the events of the past left behind to rot.

You let out a breath as you came to a stop at a small bridge that protected a pool of water. Smiling to yourself, you thought about all the fortunes that had befallen you and just how lucky you had been. You had gotten your life in order, made a living for yourself and most of all, made friends with the people and beings who had selflessly helped you. You still couldn’t understand why or how any of this was even possible, but you were the happiest you had ever been.

The sound of approaching footsteps caught your attention and as you turned towards it, your heart swelled. The sight of those familiar, comforting golden irises was always a happy one. With a lovely smile, you greeted the man with a seemingly otherworldly presence you had noticed from the very first meeting.

“Mr. Zhongli, good evening.” Out of habit, you bowed slightly. Despite knowing him for quite a long time, you still felt the need to express politeness whilst in his company, he was a man with a rather high status after all, and only now did you understand why people thought of him so supremely.

“Good evening,” He returned the bow, his voice as delightful as ever. “I trust that you have wrapped up your preparations for the Lantern Rite?” He asked, pointing to your bags of various purchases with his gaze. You gave a nod.

“That I have. I was just on my way back home to get dressed for the fireworks.” Mr. Zhongli gave a nod of understanding before suddenly extending his arm to you, that warm smile you had had the pleasure of seeing multiple times spread across his lips.

“Shall I walk you, then?” His request surprised you somewhat. You knew he was as courteous as one could be, yet you didn’t expect him to offer to take time out of his possibly busy evening and spend it in your company. Despite that, however, you felt something twist in your insides at the sight of him offering his help once more.

“That would be great, thank you.” You gave him one of your bags and with your now free hand, wrapped it around his arm and positioned yourself by his side. As you began walking in relative silence, you wondered what went through his head. Glancing at him carefully, you only saw an expression so neutral and unbothered, that it caught you off guard slightly.

The details of his face had never been this close to you and you found your eyes glued to them. His skin was flawless, his eyelashes were long and as dark as his hair and while his lips were thin, they were naturally dusted with an extremely sheer shade of pink. Only now, in this moment, did you truly realize just how incredibly handsome he was.

You turned your gaze forward, hand squeezing his arm just slightly. Suddenly, you were hit with so many complicated, almost suffocating emotions, ones you had ever truly felt only once before. But why now? Perhaps it was because you finally felt at ease enough to allow yourself to experience the underlying excitement and the increase in your heartbeat when in someone’s company.

You gripped the handle of the bag you were carrying tighter. Body encased in growing warmth, you somehow managed to continue walking relatively normally by his side.

He was reticent. You were expecting to hear his voice talk about the Lantern Rite or any other tradition of Liyue he seemed to possess an endless amount of knowledge about. But there was none of that. Only silence. It was not uncomfortable, quite the opposite, but right now, you strangely missed the sound of his voice.

As you neared the staircase that led to your home, you heard him let out a small breath. He glanced at you, the gentleman in him making sure you stepped up each stair without issues. Zhongli knew it was not entirely necessary, looking out for you was merely something he was somewhat used to, as that had been the primary foundation of your relationship for a time.

That foundation was crumbling and shifting into something else and he felt it. You both did. As you regained strength, so did a desire to learn more about Mr. Zhongli. You had opened up to him, abandoned all doubts and suspicions that previously weighed on your heart, and approached him further because you wanted to, not because the circumstances forced you to.

And you were always happy to see him.

“(Name),” He called out as you reached the top of the staircase. His voice was subtly different as if he had deserted his professionalism and opted for a tone suitable for a long-time friend. It was the tiniest of shifts, but you caught it.

“I have a question for you.” You blinked a couple of times and nodded, signaling him to continue. He cleared his throat and broke eye contact for a brief second. You frowned your brows slightly. Why did he seem so uneasy all of a sudden?

“The Lantern Rite is about to begin and as you know, it is the biggest festival in all of Liyue.” You listened carefully, utterly unsure where he was going with this. His eyes softened and the warmth in them almost made you melt.

“As such, it would be an honor to spend it in your company.” Your eyes widened and you felt a tingle in the pit of your stomach as he finished his proposal:

“Would you like to join me in watching the fireworks tonight?”

You sucked in a breath so fast you almost choked, the innocent question drifting in your head, spinning your brain around. Immediately you thought back to your earlier conversation with Shu, and suddenly, you found yourself relating to the nurse in a way you never could have expected.

Breaking eye contact, you stared at the ground for a brief moment, thinking about his words far too much. Your nervousness wasn’t due to the kind of anxiety you used to feel but rather due to an overwhelming set of emotions and feelings towards this man. The mere question did not confirm anything, nor were you completely sure what you even truly felt, but his proposition ignited internal flames you thought were permanently extinguished.

When you looked at him again your heart skipped a beat. Never before had you felt this way when looking at him, at least not in a way you could acknowledge. He was patiently waiting for your response and you were sure that even if you were to reject his offer, it would not offend him. It was just the kind of man he was. Kind, polite, selfless, and unbelievably attractive.

You could never say no to such a proposal from him.

“I would love to.”

The expression upon his face brightened and he seemed almost relieved at your answer.

“Wonderful. Shall we meet after sunset?” You briefly eyed beyond the railing, the sun only slightly visible from behind the horizon. It would be night soon, and the harbor would enter a completely new grandeur, one completely foreign to you.

“Sounds good.” You smiled, all that previous turbulence fading away and getting replaced by a pleasant calm that washed over you as you noted his gorgeous expression, satisfied with the outcome of his question.

You took your bag from him and turned to your door, ready to start preparing for a night you had a feeling would be unforgettable.

“See you then.”

~

The lit lanterns of your home draped the entire area in a pleasant glow as the sun finally reached its destination. The bag in which your earlier purchase once sat lay empty on a table, and instead, the comforting silk fabric hugged your form. Looking at yourself through the mirror, you were in awe.

The robe-like dress fit you like a glove and the Glaze Lillies you had placed in your hair matched the embroidery perfectly. Twirling a couple of times, you took in your appearance. The flowing skirt and sleeves looked almost hypnotizing and the combination of fabrics felt more comfortable than you could have ever imagined. Somehow, the garment looked even better once it was worn. You didn’t dare to admit it out loud, but you looked beautiful.

Glancing through the slightly open window, you noted how the evening darkness slowly engulfed the sky and how the warm colors that had adorned it faded away. It reminded you of your meeting and it did not take long for you to start making your way to the front door after taking one more look at your reflection through the mirror.

Mixed thoughts filled your mind as you descended the familiar set of stairs, ones of happiness, and awe, but also nervousness. You could not help but wonder what the following hours had in store and a part of you was not certain of how you would behave around Mr. Zhongli after your only recently realized feelings. Perhaps you had always felt a certain pull towards him, but only now did you truly realize it.

There was no guarantee of anything, however. You would be happy with whatever fate had in store for you regarding him. He saved your life, and for that, you would always be grateful.

When you arrived at the same bridge you had run into him earlier, he was already there, curiously eyeing the surroundings that had become radiant in warm lights as he so often was. His attire was different, much more festive, and thus much more suitable for the night’s occasion. You barely saw his face, but you just knew the kind of expression he had, the one where he was idly looking around, with no thoughts of urgency in his mind.

His outfit was in the colors you were used to and was not too different from his daily attire. The darkness of the expensive-looking fabric was lifted by the gold accents that, much like his eyes, seemed to be almost glowing. His shoulders were adorned by metallic decorations, much larger than the ones in his usual clothes. The outfit was long, and it swayed in the gentle winds as he stood, gloved hands on the railing. You watched him in pure awe. He was ethereal, like an adeptus, mighty, like a god, he was…

“Gorgeous.”

The word flew out of your mouth effortlessly, with no attempts to restrain it. Mr. Zhongli seemingly heard it, as he was quick to turn his head towards you. You did not look away, you weren’t able to. The word was an understatement, you didn’t think there existed any that could describe the man that stood before you.

Zhongli paused for a brief moment as he took in your appearance, the greetings he was about to say disappearing and fading away somewhere he could no longer find them. He usually had the right words for any situation but now, he was utterly speechless. You were beautiful. Like a withered flower that had regained its strength and beauty. Your eyes were full of life, like reignited flames of bravery and determination.

“You look… Stunning,” he managed to say, to which you smiled shyly. His voice wavered slightly, rid of its usual structure. You had never heard him like this, and it seemed almost more… Human. You couldn’t exactly put your finger on it, but you appreciated the compliment from him.

“Thank you, Mr. Zhongli. You look wonderful as well.” He smiled at your words. “Shall we?”

With a nod, you once again wrapped your fingers around his arm and walked by his side. You trusted he knew the best spot to watch the fireworks that would soon take to the dark sky. The harbor was so beautiful, decorations you had never seen before sprinkled all over and the smell of local delicacies floating in your nose. The atmosphere was most wonderful and in this moment, with Mr. Zhongli by your side, you were happy that you had ended up in Liyue.

As your eyes scoured the area, they spotted something. Your feet slowed down, causing Zhongli to glance at you and notice how your gaze had glued itself on something, a warm smile spreading across your features. His eyes followed yours and soon realized the cause of your moment of happiness.

In the distance he could see Shu, the nurse he had known for years, and accompanying her was another woman, clinging to her arm happily. They were laughing while participating in one of the many activities exclusive to the Lantern Rite. You sighed blissfully.

“I knew she wouldn’t chicken out.” You mumbled, to which Zhongli chuckled slightly as you continued your journey. You hoped they would have a wonderful time together.

To your surprise, Mr. Zhongli took you outside of the city gates and slightly beyond the road that led to them. He took your hand in his and made sure you wouldn’t fall as you ascended to one of the grassy mountains that surrounded the harbor. The higher up you got, the more you realized what his plan was.

“The view from up here is most exquisite.” He said as you both carefully sat down on the grass. “I thought you’d appreciate a more tranquil atmosphere as opposed to the rather hectic one back at the harbor,” he explained as he looked at you.

How considerate, you thought. It certainly did somewhat cross your mind previously. Though you had gotten used to the bubbling harbor in its usual state, during the Lantern Rite it could get a bit loud and crowded, so you certainly weren’t opposed to this arrangement.

“I appreciate that.” You smiled, and he nodded, content and satisfied with his decision. You were rather close to him, which you did not necessarily realize, as it felt strangely natural. All your doubts and nervousness seemed to just melt away with the warmth that encased your being.

Suddenly there was a flash of light in the empty night sky and immediately your eyes shot up. The booming sound that followed made you jump but it was nothing compared to what you saw next.

The skies were filled with beams of bright colors and magnificent shapes. Your eyes took in all you saw, marveling at the sights you had never seen before. The loud sounds fell silent as your mind tried to process everything your eyes saw at once, the shapes, the colors, and the way they lit up the darkness of the night.

With every rocket that burst open in the sky, you were in awe of what it produced. You could not even begin to imagine what you would see next and that was what made it all the more magical.

Next to you, Zhongli could not help but notice just how awestruck you were, how your eyes glimmered and reflected the brightness that adorned the sky. In all his years, he didn’t think he had ever seen such pure adoration and freedom in someone’s expression. It was like your very soul was glowing with the fireworks, regaining its powers with every explosion. Zhongli wished that this would not be the last time he saw you so full of life.

Your eyes were glued to the festive sight as you quietly spoke:

“...Is Lantern Rite always this beautiful?” Your voice was barely audible, the overwhelming feeling of utter amazement making it disappear somewhere. But the attentive man next to you heard your question.

“No two Lantern Rites feel or are the same,” he began, voice the quietest you had ever heard it. You felt a touch on your hand that you were leaning on, and immediately looked at it, and then at him. You opened your palm and he carefully wrapped his fingers around your hand with his glowing eyes on yours.

“But they are always quite beautiful, yes.”

Something shifted in your heart as he finished, as if it skipped a beat but at the same time filled with passion in its rawest form. His words stuck to you. They were for you. He looked at you with such gentle affection, that it almost made him look vulnerable, like he was silently opening his heart to you. Zhongli was a kind man, yes, but during your time of knowing him, he had never looked at you with such… Affection.

The fireworks boomed in the distance but you could only see them as a faraway reflection in those comforting irises that looked so different, they did not feel as familiar as they may have once had. But you felt at ease whilst lost in them. You felt at ease with him.

You squeezed his hand debating on what you should do next. You craved his warmth, the way he looked at you was almost addicting. But you did not know how to react, you did not know were you allowed to react.

Zhongli seemed to notice your uncertainty, and was quick to speak:

“I apologize. Perhaps I was…” He sighed softly. “Too invasive.”

He went to pull his hand away but your grip only tightened, fueled by desperation.

“No. Please don’t. I… I don’t mind.” You did not dare to face him anymore, so your eyes found your knees. It was so confusing, were you ashamed? Scared? Why were you so quick to pull him back towards you?

It may have been fear, to a certain extent. You had not allowed yourself to feel this way in a long time, and after everything you had endured, you completely shut the emotion down. However, now that you were free and presented with an opportunity to feel without restriction, it felt foreign, but also right. You trusted Zhongli, you felt safe in his presence and you yearned for his warm embrace.

You were desperate for the affection that had once been robbed from you, the kind of affection that had been used against you with devastating consequences. They left you scarred and yet, they returned when you stared at the man before you. From the moment he saved you, he has been nothing but a great help, he guided you, gave you strength to fight, and now… You were falling for him. You were falling in love with this man.

“Zhongli.. I… I don’t know what to say, I-” You squeezed his hand again, on the verge of tears. You were sure he knew, the way his gaze softened was far too telling. He knew, maybe he had known for a while. He had always been very perceptive, after all.

“Say nothing, (Name).” He softly spoke and you soon felt his free hand on your cheek. He was careful, at first only barely touching you, but you welcomed it, leaning in and basking in the pleasant feeling in your core.

“Just enjoy the night.”

The way he smiled almost made you melt, that otherworldly aura glowing stronger than ever. He was your savior, a blessing sent by the divines and someone for whom your pained heart swelled and sprung back to life. Looking at him and that gorgeous face of his, you slowly leaned in, allowing him a chance to reject your advances if he so pleased.

He, however, didn’t.

You wrapped your arms around his torso, holding on tightly for a twinge of closeness you did not even know you had been coveting. To somewhat your surprise, Zhongli returned the hug and as soon as you felt his arms around your form, you let out a breath that held the final bits of dread and worry in your body.

Nothing felt real anymore, nothing felt scary anymore. For as long as you remained in his embrace, you were at peace more than ever before.

~

The way back to your home was quiet, but you remained close to him, practically hugging his arm. Some uncertainty still lingered, as you weren’t quite sure how Zhongli himself thought of you. You had already accepted your feelings for him, but would not feel sad if those feelings weren’t returned. He had already saved and helped you tremendously, it would feel selfish to think that on top of that, he’d hold the same feelings of affection towards you.

Yet he wouldn’t hold your hand whilst you walked if he didn’t, right?

The last of the fireworks boomed distantly, and the once busy harbor was quiet as people concluded their celebrations. The warm lanterns illuminated the streets leading to that familiar staircase beautifully and made you wish the night would never end.

“Thank you for tonight.”

His voice was as calm as ever as you stepped up the crimson stairs, but his words pierced your heart. You gave his hand a squeeze, humming and nodding as a response. You didn’t want him to go, not yet. So as you both reached the front door, you were quick to speak:

“Why don’t you… Come in for a minute? For tea?”

The way your proposal came out was less than elegant, but you were glad to see him nod.

“I would love to.”

You were quick, perhaps too quick, to open the door and invite him in, your dress flowing with every movement. He walked in and looked around, surprised to see almost no changes from when he last saw your home all those months ago. Everything was more or less the same, and he surmised that maybe you felt it impolite to make big changes to something that technically did not belong to you.

Zhongli sat down on some cushions that laid on the floor in front of the low table and you immediately began preparing tea, bringing water to a boil under a fire. “I hope you have found your time in Liyue comfortable,” you heard him say.

“I certainly have. It is a wonderful region.” You picked out two porcelain cups and laid them in front of the low table in front of him. “Makes me wonder what the other corners of Teyvat have to offer.”

Zhongli hummed at your words as you poured the steaming hot jasmine tea for the both of you.

“Mondstadt, the City of Freedom lies not too far from here. Ruled by the Anemo Archon Barbatos, Mondstadt is also known as the city of wine and song.” As Zhongli spoke in the manner you were so used to, you sat down next to him, listening curiously.

“If you ever plan to visit, you should try dandelion wine. It is the most famous beverage in the nation.”

The City of Freedom, huh? That certainly sounded promising. He spoke with a fond smile upon his lips that told you that he himself had visited the regions many times. You took a sip of your warm drink.

“Perhaps I’ll visit someday. You certainly made Mondstadt sound like the most intriguing travel destination.”

You both chuckled at your words. The atmosphere was light and warm and you felt an increasing tranquility in your being.

A comfortable silence fell over you as you both enjoyed the most beloved jasmine tea. Ever since the day he invited you for a cup all those months ago, the flavor grew on you, and you found yourself drinking it often. Its supposed symbolism of purity and good luck wasn’t forgotten by you, and you thought about it a lot. Maybe you were attempting to harness some of that good luck whenever you enjoyed it.

In the past, you would have thought such superstitions foolish, however, you couldn’t deny the fortunate things that had happened to you. You doubted it was because of one cup of jasmine tea, but you had been lucky. Unbelievably so.

You turned to Zhongli, the physical manifestation of that luck. Even in your dimly lit home, he was beautiful, like an iridescent crystal in moonlight. When you looked at him, your thoughts were a mess. A mixture of joy, relief, confusion, and even… Adoration. In the midst of it all, however, questions floated.

“I… I don’t think I have ever asked this of you but…” Something came over you and you scooted closer to him on the floor, leaving the comfortable cushion behind. Zhongli tilted his head slightly, waiting for you to continue.

“Why have you helped me so much?”

It was an inquiry that had been in your mind all this time, yet you had never found a proper place and time to bring it up. Now, it felt right, for whatever reason.

He stayed quiet for some time, golden eyes looking down for the briefest moment. It seemed like he had to think of his response, which admittedly felt odd. He pondered for a few more seconds before finally speaking:

“Because it is the right thing to do.” His answer was just about what you were expecting, spoken in a quiet tone. There was something in his eyes, though, something you could not place your finger on. His answer made sense but did not shed any light on why he would go so far out of his way to aid you.

“Saving me from a cold rain I understand. But all of… This,” with your hands and gaze you pointed at the surroundings that were so selflessly given to you by him. “And more, I mean…” You took a breath.

“Why do this for anyone, let alone someone you barely know?”

For a while, you had thought everyone in this cursed world lived for their own selfish needs, but the recent actions of the people around you completely turned that assumption around. However, even if your view of the world wasn’t ruled by selfishness, all that Zhongli did for you was still extensive.

Zhongli was not surprised by your confusion, even he knew that though his help was appreciated, it would only be a matter of time before you questioned his reasonings. You were right, he was not obligated to help anyone to this degree, but he felt like in a way he was because-

“It is my duty.”

His words left you puzzled, unsure what he meant. You tried to dissect his response, but it made little sense. His duty? He was influential in the harbor to some degree, yes, but he was no ruler, it wasn’t his burden to care for the people of Liyue, he was a mere consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral parlor. Right?

Zhongli noticed the confusion his words ignited in you.

“I do not expect you to fully comprehend the reasons behind my actions. But know that aiding others is… a part of me, so to speak. It is a duty that soars beyond the things I do for Director Hu.” 

He looked to be in thought for a few seconds again before he turned to you again.

“You could say it is a personal matter of mine.”

You looked at him, trying your best to listen. It was clear that he was leaving details out, but you wouldn’t press him for any more information. Your confusion hadn’t fully disappeared, but you appreciated the additional insight into how someone like him thought and operated. 

And in the end, it didn’t really matter, for he had already done so much for you.

“I see…”

After a brief moment of silence, you looked at him, eyes shining bright with gratitude. You took one of his hands, a bold move that was partially subconscious, and spoke with a voice full of strength and life.

“Zhongli…”

The way you said his name with such gentleness tickled in his chest and echoed in his ears like a pleasant melody. The grip with which you held his hand was firm, rid of uncertainty and anxiety that once plagued you. There was a flame in your eyes and words of recognition upon your lips.

You had never looked more heavenly.

“Thank you. For everything you have done.”

Something pulled you towards him and soon you held his gloved hand near your chest, your heartfelt words flying into the air with utmost care. 

“For so long, I had nothing. I was nothing. Just a miserable pile of flesh.”

The faded memories of abuse attempted a return, but they vanished as soon as you saw his eyes soften. It was as if with his presence alone, he was shielding you from all that threatened to hurt you.

“But you helped me find myself and my strength. I have never felt so alive before.” You let out a half chuckle out of raw joy, shrugging your shoulders and clutching his hand, all the while he listened intently, not wanting to miss any word that came out of your mouth.

“I… I owe you my life. And I don’t know how I could even begin to repay you…”

Zhongli noticed a stray tear running down your cheek, fueled not by misery, but by faultless bliss that had fully taken over your regrets and worries of the past. Through that single tear, he saw a smile so precious it made him want to always see it adorning your features.

“Truly, Zhongli… Thank you. I don’t think I could ha-”

Your sentence was cut short when you felt his free hand on your cheek for the second time this evening. He wiped the tear you hadn’t even noticed most tenderly, leaving you to look at him as a warmth crawled onto your cheeks. His perfect smile was gentle and comforting. His stunning eyes shined like shards of radiant sunbeams.

“You look so lovely tonight…”

Your teary eyes widened and something in your core twitched. His voice was the quietest you had ever heard it, he sounded almost… Vulnerable. There was anticipation in the air and you swallowed a lump in your throat. Your heart raced, but you leaned forward, fueled by something you hadn’t felt in years.

Desire.

Zhongli noticed your actions and welcomed them, though carefully. Leaning in, he kept his gentle hand on your cheek and allowed you to decide where all of this would lead to, and at what pace.

And it didn’t take long until you felt his lips against yours.

Instantly, it felt like a massive weight was lifted from your body like the last of your troubles just vanished into thin air. His lips were soft, his hand on your cheek felt comforting and Gods, he smelled amazing.

You sighed against his lips, feeling a thrilling tingle in the pit of your stomach. Something in your brain that had laid dormant bounced back to life. It was a passionate desire, lust even and it seemed to spread throughout your body quicker than your brain could process it.

One of your hands found their way into the base of his neck, and the other settled against his chest. You could briefly feel his heartbeat against your hand, and that only seemed to add fuel to the growing flame inside you. You pulled his head closer, deepening the kiss that felt like it was feeding an ancient hunger.

Zhongli held his hand at your waist, gently pulling you closer. Your touch was like fire against him, with each passing moment he felt more and more like he was losing himself to this increasing longing for you. However, if that was what you wished, he didn’t wish to step too far.

Pulling back for a fleeting moment, you looked at him through half-lidded eyes, vision clouded by whatever it was that had taken over. You felt hot, and suddenly, just looking at him was enough to awaken indecent emotions.

It was not mere obscenity that invaded your thoughts. As you looked at him, a smile crept up to your face, and your heart swelled. The way he touched you was most caring and the way he looked at you made you feel warmth unlike any before it. He looked down at you, eyes sparkling with affection, framed by the softest of gazes.

Your fingers trailed his face, that perfectly sculpted jaw, and those soft lips of his. You sighed again, marveling at his being. Once again, he looked ethereal in ways you could not comprehend.

You leaned back while still holding him, silently inviting him to the floor. He followed, looming over you as you lay on the ground. You pulled him in for another kiss, which he did not protest, instead allowing his hand to slide to your hip that he squeezed through your dress, sending shivers down your spine and a noise rose from your throat.

That seemed to awaken him from a lustful trance, as he quickly pulled back. He created some distance and you gave him a puzzled look. His gaze had suddenly shifted into something akin to pressing concern.

“Do you… Want this?” He was slightly out of breath, but the question was necessary, for at this point he was more than certain his suspicions of your past were correct, and so he would not put you through something so abominable again, even by accident.

You froze at his question, seemingly being pulled up from a deep sea of danger. His words floated in your head and made you confused, hazed even.

Did you want this?

For the first time ever, you were truly given a choice. You had been so ready for him mere moments ago because for what had felt like forever, that was all you knew. Your damaged mind automatically accepted that you would share this moment no matter what, and while you were certainly more welcome to it than ever, now that the matter of what you truly wanted was in the air… You were stunned.

You looked at him, and for a second, you thought you saw Childe’s wicked grin flash before your eyes. He had only ever taken you greedily, never once considering your feelings or desires. That’s how it always went, thus you had never even fancied the possibility of it being any other way. The monster had corrupted you and your perception of intimacy, and what it could be.

The man before you was no monster.

Your hand traveled to his cheek and your face melted from uncertainty to adoring determination. The image of your tormentor vanished, and you would never allow him to haunt you again.

“I want you, Zhongli.”

His taut body relaxed, and he seemed almost surprised. But he knew from your expression that there were no ghosts of the past possessing you. It was you who spoke to him, you who desired him, and you, who he yearned for.

Zhongli kissed you again, softly. He removed his gloves and threw them somewhere with little to no care. Your hands rested on the sides of his face, dying to have him as close as possible. The way his hands glided along your still clothed body was most delicate, like he was handling the most fragile being in all of Teyvat.

Through the undeniable bliss that threatened to blind him, Zhongli studied you, making sure he couldn’t see any signs of discomfort or pain. He wanted this as much as you did, but he would put an end to it all if it brought you any form of displeasure.

Slowly you felt his sweet lips on the skin of your neck, each kiss burning passionately and causing sighs and whimpers to escape your mouth. He was being as gentle as one could be yet it was all you needed. It was all you wanted.

Zhongli took your hand gingerly and helped you sit up, and your heart only began to race faster. He wrapped his fingers around the ribbon wrapped around your waist but did nothing more.

“May I?”

His deep voice was quiet, sounding different than usual somehow. You nodded, smiling at him shyly. You appreciated his actions more than you even realized. Though you were nervous to be exposed in front of someone after such a long time, in this moment you wouldn’t have wanted it to be with anyone else.

Zhongli began delicately undoing the ribbon, allowing your robe to flow free in the warm air. He was careful not to tear the thin fabric as he pushed the layers aside, slowly revealing a haven of bare skin.

The expensive dress pooled on the ground around you and you quickly pushed it aside lest it get damaged during what was to come. When you caught his gaze, you witnessed a man immersed in an unadulterated adoration, as if losing himself in a sea of deepest devotion.  

The brunet’s face twisted into the slightest of frowns as his eyes locked onto the faded scars littered throughout your body. Discomfort poked his heart and he found himself tracing one on your shoulder with his finger. A twinge of shame latched itself on you, but you pushed it aside as best you could, for you didn’t wish to ruin this moment of vulnerability with him.

You did not want to hide from him anymore.

Zhongli eyed your body. It had done its best to remove the physical reminders of violence and you did not look any less beautiful to him. It just saddened him to think about the things that you had gone through. Yet you had endured.

“Who did this to you..?”

The way he whispered was almost pained, as if merely seeing the harm done to you broke his heart into pieces. It didn’t surprise you in the slightest, yet you felt something akin to pleasant warmth in your chest at his words. He cared, and worried over your wounds unlike anyone had ever before. It was a feeling you had been robbed of, and though it ailed you to see him like this, you appreciated his deep concern for you.

You had never seen this side of him, the way his golden eyes looked at you, so utterly filled with fondness and affection, it would have felt foreign under any other circumstances. But the pieces fell into place with him, and everything felt right.

You didn’t shy away from him, or hide your being from him. Instead, you placed your hand on his wrist and leaned in, bringing your lips to his. This was no time to mourn the past, all you wanted, was to feel the warmth of his skin and touch.

Zhongli felt your hands on his lavish clothes, the eagerness to see him exposed fueling you as you slowly helped him out of his robes.

You marveled at his perfect skin, his beautiful physique that adorned him and only seemed to enhance his already hypnotizing beauty.

He leaned in, and your back made contact with the floor below you once again. He touched you gently, a hand settling on one of your breasts while his lips journeyed to your neck. His touch was soft and tame, yet it still sent shocks of pleasure through your nerves. 

Closing your eyes, you reveled in the sensations, enjoying the way his lips moved on the surface of your skin, how his hands were dying to explore every inch of you. Your head became heavy, and your hands found his upper back. You pulled him closer, letting out a soft sigh of pure bliss.

Zhongli was not blind to the way you relaxed at his actions, how utterly entranced you became. The way you responded to his every caress delighted and surprised him, but also filled him with profound relief, knowing that he was bringing you such immense joy and contentment. As his hand slowly moved lower, he swore he could detect the faintest trace of a smile playing upon your lips, a silent confirmation that you were experiencing nothing but pleasure.

He kissed you again, a low moan rumbling in his throat that made you twitch. With delicate fingers, he touched the spot that ached for him most, surprised at the amount of slick he felt on his digits. You mewled, already arching your back for him, more than ready for him to slide his fingers into you.

Zhongli pulled back to check on you, only to see an expression so full of lust and affection that it washed all doubt of you not wanting this away. Not only did you look incredibly eager for him, you were also joyful, happy even, and it warmed his heart more than anything had before.

The amount of trust you placed in him to reveal you vulnerabilities like this was a marvel.. Your beautiful eyes looked straight at him, never shying away for even a fleeting moment. In the depths of your gaze, he beheld a strength rarely witnessed in mortal beings, an indomitable spirit that ignited a yearning within him like nothing he'd ever experienced.

Two of his fingers entered you effortlessly, earning him a satisfied mixture of sighs and moans from you. He took in your reaction, it only increased his own arousal. To bring you such pleasures, fueled his desires more than anything ever could.

“Oh… Zhongli…” In your ecstasy, you sang his name like a prayer, desperate to feel more of him. You wrapped your hands around him and pulled him to you once more, all the while his hand worked its magic between your legs.

His touch was measured and deliberate, ensuring your comfort as his eyes watched how your face melted and twisted in pleasure. Your body was on fire and your core tightened with every pump of his skillful fingers. You felt like you were floating in the air, your every sense alert, yet only being able to focus on the sensation of his digits, the sound of his sighs, and the sight of his gorgeous face that was flushed red ever so slightly.

Your insides throbbed against his fingers with every push, so incredibly needy for him. The memory of such intimate pleasure had become a distant memory, suppressed by your own restraint. At that moment, you chided yourself for denying such sensations, for the wave of pure ecstasy that surged through your body, from your core to your very fingertips, was nothing short of addictive.

Zhongli’s attentive gaze looked at you, somehow managing to both look out for any signs of unpleasantness and appreciate your erotic reactions that took the form of those sweet noises from your lips and contorted twitches of your body. He was utterly mesmerized by how you looked and most of all by the fact that this was his doing.

Your unquenchable craving for the man before you was no longer a mystery, it was exposed in all of its obscene glory.

His thumb brushed against a certain sensitive nub that had become swollen with your arousal. The sensation made you twitch, a clear indication for Zhongli to do it again. 

Whilst his two fingers moved in and out of your drenched hole, his thumb gently rubbed circles against your clit, spiraling you further down in ecstasy. Your moans threatened to louden due to the new and overwhelming sensations, and you attempted to suppress them. It was a mere habitual reaction, done without thinking, but it did not go unnoticed by Zhongli.

“Let me hear you, my jewel,” he murmured against the crook of your neck. “Your voice is so heavenly…” He nuzzled against you in an almost animalistic yet comforting way before pressing a plethora of kisses on the surface of your skin.

Your voice flew into the hot air and Zhongli was eager to please you, quickening the pace at which his hand skillfully worked, making you clench around him ever so hungrily.  

“S-so good… Feels so good.” It was nonsensical how good he was making you feel with his mere fingers, how much pleasure coursed through your entire being.

He lifted his head to look at you, and you only melted even more upon seeing the tenderness in his gaze. The contrast was astonishing. His fingers moved in such ways it almost made you feel dirty, and yet, his eyes burned with the most profound care and devotion.

The improper noises that his fingers making contact with your insides fell mute as all you could focus on was him and his eyes, those eyes that watched over you, even now.

With a heaving breath, you whispered his name and brought him closer, clashing your lips with his. Your hands held onto the sides of his head, desperately needing to feel him close as the knot in your core tightened when his fingers reached new depths.

In that moment, your mind was enveloped in a thick, euphoric haze, a dense fog that you surrendered yourself to with abandon. You had been so alone, so drained of any pleasures of intimacy for so long, that you couldn’t reject them now. And the sole reason for this intoxicating bliss was the man before you

Zhongli, Zhongli, Oh, Zhongli, that was all you heard in your head as you kissed him, moaning against his lips like a starving woman. Clenching around his fingers for the final time, you came undone, bucking your hips against his hand and savoring the quivering waves of joyful pleasure that engulfed your being.

It was only then that you retreated from him, breathing heavily and allowing him to witness your flushed expression and half-opened, almost tearful eyes.

“Are you alright?” He whispered, with the utmost softness in his tone. He fixed a stray strand of your hair that had fallen out of place and watched as your wet lips turned upwards into a smile.

“Never better.” You caressed the perfectly soft skin of his face with your thumb, feeling like you were floating and the air around you was as clear as could be. Never had you been so sure of what you felt, never had you been so captivated by someone.

You only coveted him more.

Zhongli noticed the continuous movement of your hips. Your body was desiring him more, even beyond your breathtaking culmination of euphoria.

“Are you sure?” He was of course happy to indulge but was fearful that you were offering yourself for his own pleasure, as you might have done in the past. He only wanted you to enjoy yourself.

You nodded eagerly, more than sure of what you wanted. There was no doubt in your mind. You wanted to feel him, touch him, love him. With pleading eyes you looked at him, and he pressed a kiss on your lips, silently accepting your request.

Carefully, he positioned himself at your entrance, almost at his limit. He couldn’t deny his own arousal, but for the sake of your well-being, he would hold back, and enjoy himself to the fullest. He wanted you, he really did, but would never admit to himself just how happy and relieved he was that you allowed him this moment.

He entered you slowly, and the stretch of him alone was enough to once again pull your head back. Gods, it felt heavenly. Throughout it all, you looked at him, unable to take your eyes off his perfect features. His mouth was slightly opened, eyes half-lidded as he took in your warmth as he slid into you.

Zhongli hissed at the sensation, his head dipping low as he tried to cope with the feeling. It was as if you were made for him, you took him so well, it was unbelievable.

It didn’t take long for him to start moving. The slow, drawn-out thrusts felt ecstatic, blessing him with an array of moans and whimpers from your mouth. He pressed himself against you, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. You felt his breath tickling your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

With each thrust, you throbbed against him and tightened around him which only prompted him to give you more and dig himself deeper.

“Hah… Gods, you feel divine.” His hand found your cheek and his eyes bore into yours. He was as tender as he could be, dying to shower you with his affection. His eyes glowed warmly, framed by his eyebrows that were frowned ever so slightly due to these overwhelming sensations.

Your heart skipped a beat every time he moved, every time he touched you, and every time those safe, golden irises stared at you. He embodied everything that made you happy, everything that made you feel secure. All your worries and images of the past disintegrated as he held onto you so earnestly, and loved you so genuinely.

Zhongli showed no signs of fatigue, and only seemed to increase his movements, bringing his lips to yours once more in a multitude of messy kisses. You wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

As they lay there, fully exposed to one another, any invisible walls that once existed between the pair disappeared. There was a connection that only seemed to deepen as you indulged in each other’s less than pure desires.

However, there was no filth in the air, no desperate cries or the destruction of minds. Childe wasn’t there to threaten you, to harm you, to ignore all your protests. No, the image of the man had long disappeared from inside your head. In this moment, you had all but forgotten what he even looked like. Freedom was at your fingertips.

And your liberator was right in front of you.

His lips tenderly brushed over your neck, bestowing gentle kisses upon the faded scars, not claiming you as his own, but liberating you from the clutches of the one who had mistreated you. A silent vow echoed in his actions, a pledge to shield you from harm and safeguard your well-being as long as he drew breath.

You felt him touch the spot that made you see stars. Over and over he prodded at it crashing you with a massive wave of euphoria every time. Your noises grew louder and with it, Zhongli’s arousal reached new heights.

How he loved your voice, your sweet sounds. They were so full of life and emotion and they echoed in his ears like a spell and made him twitch.

When you wrapped your legs around his torso, he almost reached his peak right there. The new angle allowed him to hit your cervix far more effortlessly, making you both drown in each other’s pleasure.

“Zhongli… Oh.. Zhongli…” In the midst of mewls and gasps, you spoke his name. That was all you could say, for he was all you could think about. Your core was on fire, the familiar knot had returned and with every thrust, you clamped around his length more and more. He felt amazing, he made you so full you felt like you were losing your mind.

Zhongli noticed your expression, and how utterly entranced you were, drunk on the bliss he was providing you. The way your face twisted and melted by his actions was addicting and brought him closer to his impending peak.

Desiring to have you as close as possible, Zhongli wrapped his strong arms around you, and when you opened your eyes slightly, for a moment, you swore you could see a change in him. He picked up the pace and when you caught a glimpse of those gorgeous eyes, it almost seemed like they had an animalistic hunger in them.

You didn’t have time to delve any deeper into that as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, lifting you up ever so slightly so he could have you as close as possible. A strained moan ripped itself from your throat as he thrust in and out of you faster and faster, going deeper and deeper until you couldn’t hold in your brewing rapture.

As you came and you steadily pulsated around him, practically milking him, silently begging for him to finish, Zhongli gasped, allowing a most erotic sound to leap from his mouth. He gently took hold of your chin and kissed you in the most wonderful way as you felt him twitch and fully surrender to his undying desire for you.

There was a moment in which you heard nothing but your own heartbeat. Your vision was blurry and as the man who had saved you embraced your form, you let out a breath. And with that single breath, you let go of all doubts, all your demons, all your worries. His warmth enveloped you, and you granted yourself this moment and allowed your raw emotions to run wild.

As Zhongli looked at you, his face quickly twisted in concern as she saw your tearful eyes and quivering lip. He swallowed nervously, immediately wondering if all of this was a mistake. Your expression was distant as if your mind was on an entirely different planet.

Before he had time to speak, your eyes shifted to him, and a content smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. You brought your hand to his cheek, silently assuring him of your newly found peace of mind. You kissed him tenderly, relishing the way he held you and pulled you to him.

There was a moment of silence as he caressed your bare back, wonder floating in his head. He had never felt like this. It was foreign and yet, it felt right.

You sighed against him, wondering how you had gotten so fortunate. You couldn’t help but smile widely, you didn’t remember the last time you felt this alleviated. Gone were the flashes or the dreadful thoughts, now you only felt a warmth in you, accompanied by undying gratefulness.

Zhongli’s expression was more stoic, as he thought about the night he had found you and the previous questions you had. Much of what he saw that night was unknown to you, and so, Zhongli opened his mouth:

“When I found you on that stormy night…”

Your smile fell ever so slightly and you glanced at him but allowed him to continue.

“You were not only unconscious but distressed. Out of it, even.”

Your eyebrows frowned in confusion. The details of that night had become a distant fog of a memory, much like anything else, yet for some reason, what he was saying seemed urgent, and concerning. As far as you knew, you had passed out, not in some state of psychosis. Your stomach churned and Zhongli noted your concerned expression.

“I did not want to worry you, that is why I am only bringing this up now. I… I am sure it’s nothing you should worry about now, but I feel like I have to let you know of this, for your own safety.”

What he was saying didn’t make much sense, but you knew it was out of the goodness of his heart. Still, uncertainty prickled in your side, what did he see that night?

“You were… Frightened, crying frantically and begging for help, yet you seemed to assume no one was coming to your aid.”

Zhongli did not take joy in remembering all of this. The image was haunting, you had been terrified despite not being entirely conscious and he had been unsure what to do. You had thrashed on the ground, curling up into a ball and perhaps most disturbingly-

“There was a name.” He looked at you and you felt a heavy dread in the pit of your stomach. “A name that fell from your lips over and over again…”

He fell silent, taking in your reaction. He did not want to distress you any further but felt a pressing need to tell you all of this.

“You asked me why I have helped you to this degree, and truthfully, I initially stayed by your side tirelessly to ensure that this person you were escaping from, wouldn’t come after you.”

Your eyes widened ever so slightly. So that was the reason. Zhongli was privy to the fact that you had been tormented by someone this entire time. Perhaps it shouldn’t have surprised you and admittedly, his reasoning made sense, so why was your heart racing?

“I apologize for my secrecy, but I did not want to cause you any more stress than you were already in-”

“What was the name?”

You spoke before you could think, and the question flew from your mouth almost unwillingly. You didn’t even know why you would ask that, was it because you had forgotten the name of your twisted lover? That couldn’t be it, could it? Despite most of his wretched face having become nothing but a faded picture, his name still lingered, much to your dismay. The name “Childe” was etched into your brain and yet, something about his name was foggy.

Zhongli’s face turned to you, and you looked right back at him, determination to hear this name obvious in your eyes, though you didn’t know why. Zhongli hesitated, unsure if revealing this name was for the best, seeing as something had clearly been triggered by this information. 

Still, he took a deep breath and as soon as the words left his mouth, your face fell, your stomach turned, and your heart began to race. Suddenly, fragmented memories became whole again as you were once again reminded of a cruel fate you had been forced to endure. 

All of this came back, only because you were reminded of the cruel monster’s name.

“Ajax.”

~

Support me on ko-fi!❤️

[viivdle]

tfota cats⁉️ are we fucking with that⁉️

[a-b-riddle]

Part Three

Warning: If you don't like Taylor Swift, you're not gonna like this chapter that much, homie. But So Long, London is so fitting for this drabble series. (I guess a series since it's longer than a drabble at this point)

Can’t stop thinking about reader just trying to move on

You had to remind yourself several times not to check in with the guys. It had almost become second nature doing something big like this. But going to another country…

Not that they would care. You told yourself. It was for the best that way.

The expo went better than you expected. You didn’t believe that there would be a line out the door of eager readers wanting to read your book, but you got a decent amount. More than a few told you they couldn’t wait to read it. Several asking for photos and asking questions on any future books, a spin-off or even continuing the series.

When one a particular large group of girls your age asked for a group photo, you could have cried. They were had found each other in an online book club. You had given them your book several months ago. All copies signed with a note thanking them for taking the time to read what you had poured your heart into.

You had spent a large chunk of your free time talking to them. Bonding more so as women than over your book.

"Have you listened to Taylor's new album?"

It had only been out for two days and you had been able to avoid it like the plague. You didn't need to even listen to 'So Long, London' to know it would fucking gut you. So you would enjoy your time in the states. Save the listening experience for when you were packing up their stuff.

They had posted and tagged you before continuing on with the rest of the expo. You had reposted the photo to your own social media. Or at least one attached to the pen name you had crafted. You only had twelve thousand instagram followers, but it was something.

The first day was much like the second. You had attended several Q & A sessions with a panel of more experienced authors and managed to go to a few meet and greets. Before you knew it, it was time to pack up shop.

The agent the publishing house had assigned to you had stuck with you for most of the day. You were able to pick her brain a bit about new ideas for possible future plot lines and her thoughts. Overall, the trip was great.

Not only were you able to make great connections and take a lot back home with you to reference, but for a few days you forgot what waited for you back home. Or rather what wasn't waiting for you.

By the time your plane landed back in London you could barely hold yourself up. You left the expo, went straight to the hotel to shower, pack and head to the airport.

Your flight was delayed. Your luggage was taking forever to get onto the belt. It was only seven, but fuck if you weren’t ready to just call it a day. Tomorrow you would have to start again. Opening up the shop. Coming back to an empty flat. Maybe start gathering up the items the boys had left behind.

Should you give them in separate boxes or just one giant one and let them sort it out themselves? It was easy to discern whose sweatshirt and t-shirts belonged to who, but when it got to things like socks and chargers...

Yeah.

They could sort it themselves.

You could drop it off at Kyle's when you knew he would be at the gym. He was good at avoiding you anyway.

It wasn't until you stood in your apartment did it hit you.

You were alone.

For the first time in over a year you couldn't call one of them over to soothe that ache of loneliness.

For the first time in over a year, you had to relearn how to handle just being alone.

You usually showered at night. Washing away the grime of the day before settling into bed. But today was a new chapter. You woke up wanting to start it on a good note. Plus you went straight to bed after getting home so you still had a bit of airport funk on you.

It had been a week. One official since you had sent that text nailing the coffin shut. You had touched base with your friends who didn't bat an eye at you dating four men at once. They liked them, even if Simon scared them. You didn't give them the details of the breakup or the cause. You were pretty private in your problems and if you wanted relationship advice, you would seek an unbiased unopinion.

You had a good group of friends, but the moment you told them that you were well and truly heartbroken, they would insist the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Something you were nowhere near ready for.

So you needed to look like you had your shit together. You put on a dress that was feminine and, most importantly, comfy as fuck. An A-line floral frock paired with a light sweater and some white trainers. You knew a few of your friends would be stopping by for tea so you need to look like you were taking the separation well. Even if you were barely holding it together.

With makeup and perfume on, you started the early morning stroll to your shop.

You loved openings. Starting up the register and selecting the playlist for today. Picking out the essential oil to put in the diffuser even though you mostly stuck with a lavender and vanilla blend during the spring months.

For the morning you stuck with a Taylor Swift Instrumental playlist you had found initially for studying, but you liked the peaceful feeling it brought. Even when it covered the most gut wrenching songs.

You had started to collect the online orders that had accumulated over the last week. Sending out the e-mails alerting to your patrons that their orders were ready for pick up. Luckily you weren't set to receive a delivery until tomorrow.

It was eight and everything was set. Although not many people came to a bookstore at eight in the morning, it really didn't bother you opening up that early considering you were the only employee that was on the payroll. It gave you the possibility of making money, but mostly you spent the morning reading or writing.

You flipped the sign over from CLOSED to OPEN. Ready to start take on the day.

You had turned the kettle on in the back room when your friends had stopped by around lunch. You always said it was just tea, but you always had an array of snacks on standby for you all to munch on.

Meredith was complaining about what a dick the new client at the law firm was being. An absolute slime who had been married to his wife for almost twenty-five years before he decided to fuck his twenty-two year old assistant.

Tabitha didn't want to talk about work. To her, her career in tech was just a paycheck. She did what she needed to do and left when she was done.

You talked about the expo and how your book. Although neither of them really read, they had promised that they would read your book. You didn't hold your breath. They had reposted your posts as well as making ones of their owns in celebration of you. Words of praise about your dedication and hard work.

You realized that even though they couldn't give you the support you needed as readers, they supported you blindly. You could have written absolute garbage, but they would still support you.

You talked about how many people liked your book and wanted pictures and to sign their copies.

Then came the question you had been rehearsing since you had texted them a week ago. They both shared a look before Meredith finally asked.

"How are you holding up?" You gave a half-smile and a shrug. So perfectly rehearsed in your head you were ready to deliver your lies lines.

"I'm fine," you lied. "It was just fading so there isn't much of a difference, I guess." Not necessarily a lie. "We just wanted different things and were on different paths in life." Not a lie. "It's for the best." You weren't sure if that last one was a lie or not just yet.

They both shared a passing look before returning their gazes back to you. "You know you can come to us about this stuff." Tabitha's hand reached across the table, placing a hand on top of yours.

"It wasn't going to work out." You added. "Situations like that don't and I should have known better."

"A situation?" Meredith asked. "When have you ever called it a situation?"

"It always was one."

"I love you enough to call bullshit." She raised her eyebrow at you, crossing her arms over her chest. "You loved them and you need to stop pretending this is easy."

"You're a divorce lawyer, Mere," You reminded. "You see marriages fall apart every day."

"I do. I get to see from across the table how a woman is still willing to take her cheating arse of a husband back. So the fact that you went from on cloud nine with all of them to not even talking about the break up is concerning to say the least."

"Tabitha," you looked at your only ally left. "A little back up would be nice."

"I'm with her on this one." She confirmed. "You loved them. Not that I cared, but if you weren't talking about books or the shop, you were talking about them. What you did, where you went. How they fucked you."

"I think I'll miss that part the most." Mere sighed. "I lived vicariously through you."

"You know you could actually date people." Tabitha suggested.

"I'd rather live with chronic carpal tunnel than a man." You almost choked on your tea. If you were wearing pearls you would have used the comedic relief of clutching them to break the awkwardness of the current topic of conversation.

"That should be put on a t-shirt." You suggested

"I wouldn't mind it on a welcome mat to be honest." Tabitha added.

"But in all seriousness, cut this bullshit." Meredith gave you an sympathetic smile. "We're here. Good, bad and ugly."

You returned her smile. "I know."

You had closed up shop for the evening. Your lunch had gone longer than expected so now you were left doing the dishes and clean up during closing. You were setting the last cup on the drying rack when you heard the front door chime.

Shit.

You must have forgotten to lock the door when you turned the sign.

“I’m sorry!” You apologized, making your way out of the back break area and to the front of the store. “We’re-”

“Closed.” He said, locking the door behind him. “I saw the sign.”

[torpublishinggroup]

"Warning Signs Your Machines Are Trying to Kill You!" by TJ Klune

(Legally, I’m required to tell you that when smart phones first became popular, I bought one and then asked for the address of the app store because I thought it was a physical location I had to go to in order to download apps and not something already on your phone. Also, I was recently told I speak like an old person so as a warning, there will not be any slang you youths typically hear, especially on Tumblr. Any slang I’ve learned in the last five years has been against my will. I still don’t know what FOMO means, and I don’t care.)

1. Oh no! You and your family are trying to enjoy a movie night, but Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) wants a sacrifice at the altar of their god, BeeZos. Should this happen, do not attempt to give Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) a cantaloupe with googly-eyes on it and say that it is your baby. Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) knows the difference between fruit and children. Instead, ask the machine to order dog food, and it will forget about eating humans for a little while.

2. If you own a very fancy vehicle that can drive itself, always make sure to carry a brick. That way, when the car locks you inside and attempts to drive you off a cliff into a gas station, you can break the window using the brick. You will then have to jump out, but make sure you do so in time so you can watch the wicked-ass explosion when the car hits the gas station, and you can revel in your victory over your car.

3. This one will hurt. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Chances are, you’re reading this on your phone right this second. To be safe, after you’ve finished reading this post and have clicked on the affiliated links to purchase my books, you should throw your phone into a volcano and then move to South Dakota where there are no machines, only wind and cows. That way, when everyone else gets the 5GZombieVirus that people on Twitter (I’m not calling it the other thing, shut up) seem to think is real, you’ll be safe with your cows on a windy day.

4. Get rid of your air fryer. Don’t ask me why, just do it. Red flags all around. Danger, danger.

5. Do you know of the Clapper? That thing first launched in the late 20th century (I wrote it that way to make me feel old) where the commercials showed cranky old people unable to reach their light switches, so they got a thing called a Clapper that turns your lights on and off when you clap? Guess what? Those will be the first things to try and kill you. If you love your gram-gram, save her from the Clapper. When she asks why you are destroying it with an ax, tell gram-gram it’s because you love her.

6. Do you live in a smart home? The kind where everything is connected to the internet, including your refrigerator? The refrigerator that holds your perishable foods? And oh, would you look at that: how many ice cubes have you kicked under it rather than picking them up when they fall to the floor? A dozen? A million? The refrigerator remembers. And it will spoil your food in seconds. What then? What are you going to eat? Canned food? Not if the refrigerator falls on top of you!

Unfortunately for you, this is where it must end. I hope this has given you enough information to help you survive the inevitable. If you do not heed my warnings, well. Who cares. I’m not in charge of you. Do whatever you want. Just don’t come complaining to me when gram-gram gets the clap.

[insertdisc5]

📚 A List Of Useful Websites When Making An RPG 📚

My timeloop RPG In Stars and Time is done! Which means I can clear all my ISAT gamedev related bookmarks. But I figured I would show them here, in case they can be useful to someone. These range from "useful to write a story/characters/world" to "these are SUPER rpgmaker focused and will help with the terrible math that comes with making a game".

This is what I used to make my RPG game, but it could be useful for writers, game devs of all genres, DMs, artists, what have you. YIPPEE

Writing (Names)

Behind The Name - Why don't you have this bookmarked already. Search for names and their meanings from all over the world!

Medieval Names Archive - Medieval names. Useful. For ME

City and Town Name Generator - Create "fake" names for cities, generated from datasets from any country you desire! I used those for the couple city names in ISAT. I say "fake" in quotes because some of them do end up being actual city names, especially for french generated ones. Don't forget to double check you're not 1. just taking a real city name or 2. using a word that's like, Very Bad, especially if you don't know the country you're taking inspiration from! Don't want to end up with Poopaville, USA

Writing (Words)

Onym - A website full of websites that are full of words. And by that I mean dictionaries, thesauruses, translators, glossaries, ways to mix up words, and way more. HIGHLY recommend checking this website out!!!

Moby Thesaurus - My thesaurus of choice!

Rhyme Zone - Find words that rhyme with others. Perfect for poets, lyricists, punmasters.

In Different Languages - Search for a word, have it translated in MANY different languages in one page.

ASSETS

In general, I will say: just look up what you want on itch.io. There are SO MANY assets for you to buy on itch.io. You want a font? You want a background? You want a sound effect? You want a plugin? A pixel base? An attack animation? A cool UI?!?!?! JUST GO ON ITCH.IO!!!!!!

Visual Assets (General)

Creative Market - Shop for all kinds of assets, from fonts to mockups to templates to brushes to WHATEVER YOU WANT

Velvetyne - Cool and weird fonts

Chevy Ray's Pixel Fonts - They're good fonts.

Contrast Checker - Stop making your text white when your background is lime green no one can read that shit babe!!!!!!

Visual Assets (Game Focused)

Interface In Game - Screenshots of UI (User Interfaces) from SO MANY GAMES. Shows you everything and you can just look at what every single menu in a game looks like. You can also sort them by game genre! GREAT reference!

Game UI Database - Same as above!

Sound Assets

Zapsplat, Freesound - There are many sound effect websites out there but those are the ones I saved. Royalty free!

Shapeforms - Paid packs for music and sounds and stuff.

Other

CloudConvert - Convert files into other files. MAKE THAT .AVI A .MOV

EZGifs - Make those gifs bigger. Smaller. Optimize them. Take a video and make it a gif. The Sky Is The Limit

Marketing

Press Kitty - Did not end up needing this- this will help with creating a press kit! Useful for ANY indie dev. Yes, even if you're making a tiny game, you should have a press kit. You never know!!!

presskit() - Same as above, but a different one.

Itch.io Page Image Guide and Templates - Make your project pages on itch.io look nice.

MOOMANiBE's IGF post - If you're making indie games, you might wanna try and submit your game to the Independent Game Festival at some point. Here are some tips on how, and why you should.

Game Design (General)

An insightful thread where game developers discuss hidden mechanics designed to make games feel more interesting - Title says it all. Check those comments too.

Game Design (RPGs)

Yanfly "Let's Make a Game" Comics - INCREDIBLY useful tips on how to make RPGs, going from dungeons to towns to enemy stats!!!!

Attack Patterns - A nice post on enemy attack patterns, and what attacks you should give your enemies to make them challenging (but not TOO challenging!) A very good starting point.

How To Balance An RPG - Twitter thread on how to balance player stats VS enemy stats.

Nobody Cares About It But It’s The Only Thing That Matters: Pacing And Level Design In JRPGs - a Good Post.

Game Design (Visual Novels)

Feniks Renpy Tutorials - They're good tutorials.

I played over 100 visual novels in one month and here’s my advice to devs. - General VN advice. Also highly recommend this whole blog for help on marketing your games.

I hope that was useful! If it was. Maybe. You'd like to buy me a coffee. Or maybe you could check out my comics and games. Or just my new critically acclaimed game In Stars and Time. If you want. Ok bye

[kingtomura]

Cat and mouse

synopsis: Your ex boyfriend has some nerve texting you at three in the morning — an entire week after the disaster breakup you had. You should really go over there and give him a piece of your mind. Well, you know what they say about famous last words.  wc: 6.1k | crossposted to ao3 content: tomura shigaraki x female reader, no quirks au, toxic tomura, reader is kinda toxic too tbh, unhealthy relationships, breaking up and making up, vaginal fingering, overstim, breeding kink, piv, dubcon creampie, degredation, threats of baby trapping, hurt/comfort, sweet at the end idc

You’ve told your friends time and time again to stay out of your business. They never listen. 

“Oh my god, Kirishima? Is he even twenty yet?” You drag as you watch your friend flip through several pictures of the redheaded boy like he was a member of the bachelor. 

She smiles, scrolling her phone for more options, “no, but he will be in a couple of months!”

“No!” Your words are sharp. You love Mina but god, you don’t want her to play matchmaker with you. It’s not like you’re a charity case or something. 

She gasps and you swear you could see the lightbulb go off above her head. “What about Denki? He’s fun!” 

You groan, falling back onto the bed and covering your eyes with your arm. “Mina.” 

“Hey, just give her a break okay? It’s only been about a week.” Your saving grace Yaoyorozu speaks up and it’s nice to finally have someone on your side. 

“Thank you.”

“Seriously? So we’re just going to sit around and watch you mope about all day?” Mina questions, irritation clear in her voice and it grates your ears.  

“Preferably, yes! Just let me be.” You roll over, face officially shoved into your pillow. It’s been a rough couple of days and you haven’t gotten a single call or text from Tomura. Not that you should be expecting one. You broke up with him after all. 

It’s just.. this time feels different. Usually there’s more arguing and he’s fighting for you to stay around, but this time there was nothing. No quips, no insults, just “fine, get out then.”

That hurt the most. 

You had no idea what he was up to. 

Maybe he was as depressed as you were. 

Maybe he’s found someone else. 

The thought makes you stop in your tracks. The idea of Tomura, your tomura with someone else is enough to make you nauseous. 

You jump to your feet and rush to the bathroom, locking yourself in and falling to your knees. 

God, what if that was why it was so easy?

You pull out your phone, the device lighting up and unlocking with your facial id. 

Tomura doesn’t use social media much but you could still check to see if he’d blocked you. 

To your surprise, he hadn’t. 

He hasn't posted anything either and there’s no new person in his followers. 

You feel yourself exhale a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. No change is a good thing. 

There’s knocking on the door and you thank the stars you locked it. Your friends would judge you so hard if they saw you lurking through your ex’s social media. 

“Hey, are you okay in there?” It’s your saving grace Yaoyorozu again and you almost feel bad for shutting her out. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry if it feels like I pressured you! I’ll give you some space.” Mina's regretful voice calls and it makes your heart clench. You know she means well but she just doesn’t understand. None of them do. 

Whether you want to admit it or not, you love Tomura. 

Yes, you argue and yes, you fight, but he just gets you. He’s so cynical, but so caring — in his own special way. Too bad he was such an asshole. The argument wasn’t even supposed to go that far. 

There are tears beginning to blur your vision and you wipe them away, willing the feelings down and standing to your feet. 

If he wanted you to stay away, then fine. You could do that. 

You splash cool water onto your face and take a breath, steeling yourself and getting ready to face your friend once more. It was Saturday and they were convinced you needed a fun girl’s night.

It takes a lot to refrain from cringing at the phrase, but you believe they held some truth with the idea. You definitely didn’t want to be alone right now.

You unlock the bathroom door, meeting Mina and Yaoyorozu’s worried expressions with a smile. 

“We should probably get ready now, huh?”

Mina’s eyes light up, smile blinding and excitement contagious.

“Yes! Jirou and the others are here now.” She starts to clap, excitement buzzing around her, “Girl’s night is going to be amazing!” 

—-

Girl’s night was a bust.

The moment everyone arrived the apartment quickly filled with chaos. Noisy and busy, it was all giving you a headache. Until someone decided it would be a good idea to pregame before going out.

In preparation for the night your friend’s insisted that you get dolled up, hair makeup and skimpy clothes you wouldn’t look twice at on any normal day. 

You had to admit it made you a little more excited to get out and at least feel like your world isn't crashing around you. It was supposed to be a fun little night out. Somehow one drink turned into two, which turned into three which turned into Mina swearing she could beat everyone in a dance battle. 

The group only got more riled up as everyone indulged in this silly challenge. 

One challenge leads to another, which leads to more drinking, which then ends in everyone being too drunk to function and knocking out — all laid out in odd places around your living room floor and couch. 

The groggy feeling came first, your arms radiating in dull pain as you vaguely recalled trying to beat Mina in a contest of who could do the most push ups. It sure as hell wasn't you, but the drunk version of you thought it was possible to move mountains. 

You blink a few times, trying to will your eyes to rapidly adjust to the darkness of the room and find out what this odd buzzing noise beside you had been. Turning over, you find your phone, squinting as the too bright screen lights up your face and you see that it is three a.m.

You had fallen asleep with everyone else.

The phone buzzes again, lighting up and you have to squint further to read the contact name.

Tomura. 

Your eyes widen as you scan over the three texts he’s sent you. 

Wasting no time, you rush to your feet and into the bathroom so you can look at your phone without the chance of prying eyes overlooking your shoulder. Even though they were probably going to be out until late morning.

Tomura’s messages were short, no paragraphs, no essays but three different messages sent in succession. 

When are you coming to get your shit?

I’m tired of waiting.

And I’m deleting our farm btw. 

The first two messages don’t get much of a reaction from you, especially since it’s three a.m and he knows you’re usually asleep around this time. 

But the third message…

Your Stardew Valley farm that you’ve had and worked on together for almost two years being put on the line and threatened? What the fuck was his problem?

This farm was a constant in your relationship. Throughout the ups and downs and back and forths. You were sure that hell would freeze over before you both would give up that progress. But here he is, threatening you while you would have been asleep. What an asshole.

Your feet are moving before your brain can stop them and you make your way to the front door. Since your friends were all passed out it would be easy to sneak over to Shigaraki’s place, give him a piece of your mind and then sneak back. In and out, quick and easy. 

Your decision is made and you grab your coat, deciding to just go over there as you are. You hadn’t changed out of your outfit that was supposed to be for the night out, but it didn’t matter. You only needed to get over there and get there fast.

Once you arrive at Tomura’s doorstep you waste no time knocking. It’s around three in the morning so he should still very much be awake. 

There's a chill in the air as you wait for his answer and you wrap your jacket closer to your body. A rumble of thunder caught your attention and it's then you notice the rain clouds rolling in. You knew it would only be a matter of time before the bottom of the sky falls out and rain drenches everything. You were on borrowed time if you wanted to make it back before then.

After what feels like forever the door finally opens, revealing a very cozy pajama-clad Tomura, who seemed a little too pleased for his own good — if that sly smile he was doing a bad job at hiding was anything to go by. 

You don't give him a chance to greet you or say anything for that matter, stopping his words in their tracks as you cut him off. “What do you want?”

He doesn’t bother hiding his smirk now, the expression making your fists clench and your anger boil. “What do I want? You’re at my door, in front of my apartment.” He scoffs, clearly getting the exact reaction he had wanted from you, “I should be asking what do you want?” 

Caught like a deer in headlights. Whatever, you don't let that stop you as you pull out your phone to show him his text. “You sent this, I know you’re bluffing. What do you want?”

Tomura shrugs, leaning against his door frame and giving you a pleased look. Expression relaxed and content. Not a care in the world. “To talk.”

“Well, I'm here now, so let’s talk.” You spit, crossing your arms and waiting for whatever else he would throw at you. 

“Sure, but you should come in first.” He starts, looking up towards the darkened sky, confirming his assessment. “It’s gonna rain soon, you know.”

Of course you knew that. 

You just didn’t want to give him more time than you had. But you agree and go in, ignoring the fighting feeling in the back of your mind screaming at you to turn away and hightail it out of there. 

Tomura’s home is the exact way it was the day you left, give or take a few more containers of takeout littered around the place. You have half a mind to scold him about it, but quickly remember that it isn’t your place to do that anymore. 

So instead you stay quiet, following him into the apartment and into the living room. Opting to stand as he sat, and resisted the urge to get comfortable. 

“So, what do you want to talk about?” You try, done watching him pick up a controller and boot up a video game. Seriously? 

Your patience was wearing thin now as you watched him ignore you to play some stupid game. You try calling to him again, knowing this was probably a waste of your time and groans.

“I was in the middle of something before you got here. Let me finish and we’ll talk.” It's flippant the way he waves you off and continues the game. The lack of care only hurting your feelings further and making you realize this may have all been a big mistake on your part.

You shouldn’t be at your ex boyfriend’s house being ignored. You should be at your house getting drunk and hanging out with your best friends. There was no reason to stay somewhere you’re obviously not valued.

It’s a simple choice when you put it into perspective. 

But things are always easier said than done. 

You sigh, the air puffing out your cheeks, a bad habit you had when angry, and walk right in front of Tomura’s TV. There was more satisfaction in making him lose the game and then announcing your departure than just leaving quietly. 

He cranes his neck to see around you, but it doesn’t work, finally giving up as his character inevitably dies. “What!?”

“I’m leaving!” You announced, turning on your heel and heading towards the front door.

“You had to make me lose first? I said I was almost done!” He spat back, rising from the couch to follow you.

You shrug, “I don’t care. Why invite me in if you’re just going to ignore me?”

“Didn’t think you had the patience of a child.'' Tomura stands in front of you, cutting through your path and stopping you in your tracks.

It's almost comical the way he insults you. “Okay pot, meet kettle.” You try to brush past him, but he side steps with you. 

“What are you dressed like that for anyway? Did you go out tonight or something?”

“No!” You deny, a little louder than intended and then pause. “But it’s none of your business what I do anyway.”

Tomura hums at this, taking the words in and running them through his mind as he gives you a once over, eyes scanning from the too-tight shirt you wore — showing a generous amount of cleavage, down to your mini skirt that left little to the imagination. 

“Could've fooled me.”

“What do you mean by that?” You hate when he gives you cryptic answers, like it’s impossible to pry into his mind to see what he was thinking at the moment. 

“You knew you were coming to see me so I dont get why you're wearing that skimpy shit. Unless you wanted me to check you out.”

“Not everything is about you, Tomura. Maybe I just wanted to dress up and look nice.”

“Bullshit—”

“God, Tomura you always fucking do this!” You yell, walking right up into his face. The excitement in his scarlet eyes sends a chill up your spin, but you can’t back down. 

He gets closer, matching your tone and you can still see the grin he’s trying to hide. It makes you see red. “Do what? Tell you the truth? You know I’m not wrong.”

“Yeah, you think you know everything, but you don’t. I’m dressed up because I want to be, not because of you.” You’re insisting at this point, frustration threatening to tip over and spill out into the form of another pointless argument. Why did you think you could actually come over and have a decent conversation with him?

Tomura is a master at getting under your skin and hitting where it hurts. In all of your arguments he’s never really pulled out the big shots but you wouldn’t put it past him to do so now. 

“Oh, so you come over to my place dressed like a slut and you expect me to believe you don’t have some hidden motive?”

And there it is.

Your last straw. He could be so egotistical and mean — you’ve had it. 

You regret it the moment you do it, but your body moves before your brain can process your actions. You push Tomura. Hard. 

He doesn’t fall back far but you know it’s enough to piss him off. And he’s never been one to hold anything back, so he shoves you back and your back hits the wall. 

Tomura has you pinned before you know it and there’s a thrill that runs through your body in a way you know you shouldn’t be feeling. Your knees feel weak for reasons that are not related to fear and your panties were gradually becoming more wet. 

His voice is low and his eyes are narrowed as he pins you against the wall, pressing your cheeks together with his other hand. “You’re really starting to piss me off.”

You have to bite back a smile, knowing this has taken a turn and you aren’t strong enough to stop where it’s going. Not that you would want to. 

“Oh yeah? If I piss you off so badly then why are you hard?”

He doesn’t look down. He can feel his own arousal just as well as you can while it’s pressed against your abdomen. 

Tomura pushes off of you — maintaining some distance as he turns away. 

“You’re fucking annoying.”

“Sure am.” You supply, chipper and certain as you trail behind him. 

He’s walking further into the apartment, and you follow. Legs moving on their own accord as you go further into the lion's den, exchanging quips and insults. You jab your finger into his shoulder, bothered by the way he continues to ignore you, it's a pathetic attempt at catching his attention and it works. Kind of. 

The only response being him slapping your hand away with a glare and muttering a soft fuck off as he walked on. 

You both went back and forth. Like the sun and moon, you just can’t stay away from each other.  

It was how these things usually went between you and Tomura. He would start up, make a petty argument and you would never back down. Tomura is someone who was used to getting his way and others simply did what he said with no objections. 

But that was not how you were.

And he loved it.

You knew by the way he would get that devious glimmer in his eye when you would challenge a point, starting up a debate. Sometimes they were heated enough to make you both break up. It never lasted more than a few days. A week being the longest.

Push and pull. 

Tomura made his way past you again, ignoring your calls about how you hate being ignored. At this point you’re sure he’s doing it on purpose to rile you up more but you can’t help but take the bait. You grab his shoulder, forcing him to turn around and face you as you point a finger in his face. 

“Stop walking away from me!” 

He grabs your wrist and pulls you closer, making you stumble on your feet and almost lose balance. You were so close you could feel the heat from his body and smell the fresh linen scent of his shirt. “Don’t tell me what to do.” 

You snatch your wrist away from him, tension between you two growing hotter by the second as the space between you got thinner. 

“What are you going to do about it?” 

The narrowing of his eyes only made your grin grow wider as you watched the gears turn in his head as he thought about just how many things he would do about it. All of it enticed you, so you beat him to the punch. 

You reach forward again, fully intending to shove his shoulder again for another reaction, another glare, maybe even more words, but he stops you. It was fast, the way you both tumbled through the hallway as Tomura crashed his lips to yours. The relief of finally feeling his lips again meshed with the excitement of how rough he was with you. 

You lose yourself in the kiss, welcoming him in with open arms as you vaguely register the dark walls of his room and posters plastered along the walls in your scuffle.

It was exciting, probably the best part of breaking up and making up. At this point you think the whole point of falling apart is coming back together again. An endless cycle where the reward is worth the punishment. 

Cat and mouse. 

You end up on top of him, straddling his hips while your smug smile beams down at him. Tomura gives you an unamused look in return, yet the way his hands rested on your thighs gave away the ill hidden interest. It was all the encouragement you needed as you leaned down, hovering above him with both hands on his chest. 

“Not so tough now, are you?”

It’s bait. You know it’s bait, he knows it’s bait, but he takes it anyway — the way you knew he would. 

Tomura wastes no time flipping the both of you over, quickly reversing your positions as he settled himself between your legs. It’s dangerous the way his actions riled you up further, and you have to bite your lip to keep the smile from betraying your false anger. You couldn’t let him know how excited you were to be back in his bed. 

He presses your cheeks together and rocks your head left to right, tone mocking and eyes wild with fever, “Oh, look who’s become a firecracker all of the sudden. Where did that flame come from, huh?”

You want to respond, but Tomura beats you to it, releasing your cheeks and pointing a nimble finger against your forehead, “Don’t be dumb.”

His eyes trail from yours and then down to your lips, then finally down to your exposed cleavage. The movement was swift as he cupped one of your breasts in his hand and dipped down, claiming your lips again. It was softer than the first time but not by much, especially not when he matched his pace by grinding his clothed erection into you, making you moan at the contact. 

Your skirt was so short and it made you feel even more exposed than you already were. Tomura had easy access to you and the thin fabric of your panties made everything feel so much closer. 

You moan at the contact, swiping your tongue against Tomura’s bottom lip and wasting no time deepening the kiss as you pull him closer. You needed more and you needed it as soon as possible. 

Tomura pulled the low cut front of your shirt down, easily exposing your breasts from the confines of the shirt and massaged them, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against your nipples and making you cry out from the sensitivity. 

He pulls away from you, eyes gazing into yours and you swore in that moment he put you in a trance. Tomura’s ruby red gaze always left you mesmerized and you can’t help the whimper that leaves your lips, brows furrowed and eyes wanting, “Please.”

“Please what?” And he’s not taunting you, he’s not mocking you. His eyes are soft as he brings a hand to your cheek. “Tell me what you want.”

“You.” Fuck, you’ve missed him. “I just want you.”

There’s a hint of a smile on his face as he strokes your cheek, soft look in his eyes making your heart flutter, and then it’s gone. Replaced by a hardened gaze as he moves to remove your shirt and bra, fully exposing you to his hungry eyes, and then moves to remove your short skirt. 

His hands hover there for a moment, debating whether or not he should keep it on and fuck you in it, but then decides against the idea and pulls it off, taking your soaked panties down with it as well. 

The air in the room feels cool against your skin as you shiver in anticipation. 

“Fuck,” Tomura whispers, now eye level with your cunt. You gasp as he runs two fingers between your wet folds and holds the digits up to show you. Syrupy clear slick clung to them, slowly trailing down as Tomura rose back up, eye level with you once more. 

“You’re so wet…” He murmured, bringing the digits to your mouth and you opened, taking them into your mouth and tasting yourself. You kept eye contact as you watched his eyes widen in delight — Tomura loved it when you put on a show for him.

There’s another moment of Tomura pressing against your tongue with his fingers and then he pulls them out, opting for a kiss in exchange, his tongue dipping into your mouth and groaning  as he could taste what’s left of your slick on you as well.

The pleasant feeling and linguid action of your movements made your shoulders relax as you practically melted into his soft bed, the feeling of his body above yours bringing you mountains of comfort. It was a distraction, of course. 

You felt the same two of Tomura’s fingers prod at your slick entrance before pressing in fully and all the way down to the knuckle. The stretch was intense but the pressure was euphoric, making you squeeze your eyes shut and grip him closer. 

He didn’t make you wait long as he pumped his fingers, quickly finding that sensitive spot so deep inside of you that only he could pinpoint and brushing against it over and over. 

The feeling was so good it made you pull away from the kiss to breathe, thighs twitching and toes curling in pleasure. You wouldn’t last long like this.

“Tomura, fuck..!” You moaned, drowning in ecstasy as he continued his abuse of your spot, never letting up or slowing down, aiming to make you cum as quickly as he could. It was obvious he wanted you to come undone as soon as possible by the way he watched your every expression. 

The way your brows furrowed to the way you bit your lip. Tomura eagerly drank every expression and gave it back to you in the form of pleasure. 

“What?” He started, unphased by your dilemma, “Gonna cum?”

It took a lot of focus and effort, but you nod — done with fighting for the night and accepting the fact that you will come apart quickly. So you give in to the pleasure. 

Tomura smiles, a devious grin splitting his features as he curls his fingers, hitting the spot one more time for good measure and you lose composure, your climax crashing into you like a tidal wave. There was nothing you could do besides ride the feeling while holding on to Tomura tight — like you would get swept away if you didn’t. 

He fucks you through it with his fingers, eyes never leaving your face as you come down from your high. 

“Pent up, huh?” He questions, and this time there is that little hint of teasing. It brings you back to reality. 

Yes, you have been pent up. You haven’t been able to get off to anything since you’ve broken up and it’s been hell. 

You have no time for the games, you just want him and you want him now. 

So, you take Tomura’s face in your hands, making him look you in the eyes. The flecks of black in his carmine eyes always makes you remember why you come back. Every single time. 

“Fuck me, please, Tomura.” It's soft and filled with desire that you cannot be bothered to hide, and Tomura has never been one to deny you.

He quickly discards his own clothes, making sure to not stay away from you for long. His cock is hard and leaking precum from the head as he strokes it in preparation. You feel giddy at the thought and watch as he slides the head of his cock between your folds, coating it with your slick, and rubbing against your clit. The action makes your hips twitch up towards him. 

He loves to tease and make you wait, but today he doesn’t make you wait long. Tomura leans down after lining himself up with your entrance and places his free hand behind your head, right above the nape of your neck. His hands were warm and the feeling of those hands cradling your head felt so comforting in the space of his familiar dark bedroom. 

You bring a hand to his hair, tangling your fingers in his ashen locks as he pushes forward. The stretch makes you whimper and Tomura captures your lips in a kiss again, swallowing the noises and releasing a groan of his own as your walls tighten around his cock. 

There's something about the way Tomura drags his hips, the way he starts off at a slow pace, winding you up as he steadily increases his speed and force. It happens so gradually that you don't realize you’re screaming his name until he tells you to shut up — threatening to cover your mouth because he didn't want his neighbors to hear how much of a slut you were.

It drove you mad the way he said it all with a smile and fucked you harder. Almost daring you to be louder so he can punish you with a hand over your mouth.

Tomura knew how rough you liked it and he always delivered, giving you back arching pleasure as he pounded into you. It leaves you gasping and struggling to keep your voice down. Your hands find the surface of his back, trying to hold on as much as you could with building pleasure on the horizon. 

“Tomu— Tomura..! Please,” you cry and he doesn’t miss a beat, driving his cock so deep against your sweet spot it makes you see stars. “Fuck..!” 

“Yeah, that’s it.” Tomura cooed, eyes filled with mischief as he brought you closer to the edge. “Cry for me.”

And you do, your body feeling euphoric as the feeling buzzed up your spine and filled your brain with the fuzz of ecstasy. 

“What are you gonna do, huh?” He starts, his hips grinding against you, the closeness of his pelvis rubs against your clit, making you cry out again, “What are you gonna do when I breed this pretty cunt and make sure you’re stuck with me forever?”

He’s bluffing, you know Tomura doesn’t want kids. He’s just trying to gauge your reaction. Your dedication. 

“Tomura…” You only moan, breath catching as he hits that spot inside you that he knows so well. 

Tomura is smiling, wild and devious, as you look up at him with glossy eyes, so close to crying from the feelings, “I’m gonna do it. I’ll make you mine forever and you can’t do anything about it.” 

“Ah!” You should stop him, tell him to calm down but he has your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your back arching off of the bed. Everything is blurring together and you can only slur words as the drool from your earlier kiss trails down your cheek. 

You are completely at his mercy like this and you know your friends would be beyond disappointed.  

It just feels so good the way his cock drags in and out of your body pulling moans and whines from your throat. He was relentless in the way he pounded into you — beyond the point of being soft and slow because he knows that’s exactly you like it. 

“Say you want it.” The command comes with the slowing of his hips and you whine, high and needy as Tomura slows to a near stop.

“Tomura, I—“

“Say you want it or I swear to god I’ll stop right now.” It’s a threat and you don’t want to find out if he’ll go through with it. Tomura never goes back on his word. 

“No, please, don’t— I want it!” you pant, frustrated and aching for more movement.

“I want you to,” you stammer, desperate to have your release. “I don’t care if you cum in me. I need you so bad.”

“That’s my girl,” He coos, dipping his head down onto your shoulder, “Fuck.. love you s’much”

You stop — you’ve never heard him say that. Ever. You doubted he would ever say it since it’s been so long. 

He doesn’t give you a chance to ruminate on it because he's picking up the pace again and giving you the friction you were so deeply in need of. The feelings are swimming in your head as your cries reach new heights. Tomura is too far gone to stop you or care and you’re thankful. You couldn’t stop yourself if you tried. 

The build of your orgasm crashes down and sends you with it, making your thighs quiver in pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut. Tomura’s mouth meets yours before you could cry out, the warmth of his tongue guiding you as he fucked you through it. 

He didn’t last long after, the way your walls tightened around him with the force of your orgasm has Tomura’s pace erratic as he chased his own high. 

The bed shook as Tomura finally finished, hips stuttered as he released inside of you, hot seed coating your insides and making heat rise to your cheeks. He really did it.

You watch as he slows to a stop above you, his eyes closed as he enjoys the feeling of release. Tomura’s breathing was heavy and you couldn’t stop yourself from bringing him down into another kiss, traveling from his lips to his cheeks and then back again. 

It was intimate and you were worried it may have been too much, given the reason you were both in this situation was because of a stupid breakup. 

Tomura’s pulls out of you, making you wince and taking the feeling of being so full away from you. He doesn’t go far, opting to stay on top of you and rest his head on your shoulder, wanting to keep you as close as possible. 

“You really piss me off.” He mumbles into your shoulder, out of breath and tired. “God, why can’t you just stay with me.”

“Tomura…” Your hands run through his hair, the sweat is making it stick to his forehead as you wait for him to keep talking. 

“Stop leaving me.” His voice is firm, unwavering.

“You told me to go.” 

“I didn’t think you fucking would. I would never actually want you to.”

“I can’t read between the lines Tomura, I’m not in your head.” You make him look at you this time, pulling his hair a little to get him to raise his head. “Did you mean it?”

“I just said I didn’t—“

“No, the other thing you said.” He gives you a look of pure confusion and you lose a little bit of hope, “when you said you loved me?” 

You stare into his carmine eyes, hoping, praying it wasn’t just pillow talk from the heat of the moment. 

He looks at you for a long time, frustration still wearing on his features. If you didn’t know any better you would say he was pouting. “Of course I meant it. I’ve always felt like that.”

“But you’ve never said it!”

“I show it!”

“How?” This is getting frustrating and going in circles. 

He groans, sitting up and taking his warmth with him. “I’m not going to sit here and list everything I’ve ever done for you. I don’t think it works like that.”

You open your mouth to counter, irritation on your tongue because that’s not what you meant, but Tomura stops you again. 

“I don’t know how to explain it, okay?” He shakes his head and sighs, laying next to you on the bed and looking up at his ceiling. “It’s weird. I have these strong feelings, but it’s not hate, it's not anger. It's the opposite of that.”

You stare at him as he focuses ahead, keeping his eyes trained on the uninteresting ceiling above.

“Father said it’s a weakness and I should feel that way but,” There’s a pause as he looks away from the ceiling, meeting your eyes finally, “if it’s so weak of me, then why are the feelings so strong?” 

Your heart aches. It's clear that he’s torn, and with the strange way he was raised you know that he can’t help the way he is. 

“Tomura…” 

“And it won’t go away. I can’t fight them down or push them away like I can with everything else. It eats me up and I… guess I lash out because of it.” He shakes his head and for the first time Tomura looks defeated. You’ve never seen him this way — he’s always been filled with confidence and self assured. “I just don’t know what to do.”

You bring a hand to his cheek as you press your forehead against his. It kills you that this is what’s been on his mind and you aren’t sure what you could do to fix it. Maybe there was nothing you could do, physically, but you would do your best to be there for him emotionally.

“Sometimes,” you try to be careful with your words, knowing how much Tomura looks up to his foster father even though the man has been nothing but strange to him. “People say things that aren’t true because they don’t know how to live with it.”

Tomura’s guardian cannot live with love nor the idea of it. 

“That doesn't mean you have to live that way.” 

And it’s the truth. 

Tomura doesn’t say anything, just watches you with heavy lidded eyes, ruby red nearly glowing in the low light of the room. He was so much more than what people thought they knew of him and you didn’t care if it took time for others to see that.

He leans in, closing his eyes and you meet him halfway into a kiss. 

It's warm and it's soft and you know that even when your phone is buzzing from dozens of missed calls and texts from your friends, it will be fine. 

You and Tomura would take things one day at a time.

[she-who-fights-and-writes]

how do i get my character out of the corner i wrote myself in without a dues ex machina😭

How to Not Write Yourself Into a Corner (and How to Write Yourself Out of a Corner if You’re Already In One)

One of a writer’s WORST fears is writing themself into a corner.

It’s easy to write your characters into death-defying situations…but it’s not as easy to write the actual “defying death” part.

Some writers, in their desperation to get their characters out of a bind, employ the use of a Deus Ex Machina, as mentioned by anon:

Deus Ex Machina: (Translates to "god from the machine") A plot device where a seemingly unsolvable situation is fixed by an out-of-the-blue occurrence. The term “deus ex machina” is a reference to Greek plays, when actors playing a god would literally be lowered into the scene via a machine to magically solve any situation.

Unfortunately, this plot device is often ridiculed by readers, cited as a hack-job solution for a writer out of ideas.

How do we avoid this situation, then? Here are some tips and tricks on how to not write yourself into a corner, and how to write yourself out of a corner if you’re already in one!

Note that these tips may not work for everyone, so make sure to use your own intuition as a writer— you know your story best.

1. NIP IT IN THE BUD— OUTLINES ARE KEY!

I’m sorry to all of you pantsers out there, but the key to prevent writing yourself into a corner is to already have an idea of how each scene is going to turn out; don't make a problem without making a solution! If you keep on top of your outline, you should have no worries about writing your characters into a situation they can't get out of it.

It may be easiest to jot down ideas about a couple of scenarios and then select the one that works best, especially when it comes to dire climax scenes that have a lot of moving parts. 

Check out my posts below for more in-depth advice about outlining!

How to Outline

Plotting for Pansters and Pantsing for Plotters

This advice, although essential, does require a ton of foresight and time to plan…and if you’ve sought out this post, it may mean that it’s too late for preventative measures. The subsequent tips in this post are going to be for people who are already in the thick of it and need a way to save all of their writing progress. 

2. FORESHADOWING IS YOUR FRIEND (AKA “CHEKHOV’S GUN YOUR WAY OUT OF THAT SHIT”)

Foreshadowing: A narrative device wherein a writer gives an advance hint of what is to come later in the story. It helps maintain believability while subverting expectations and making plot twists.

Chekhov’s Gun: A narrative device wherein a seemingly insignificant element or object in the story becomes useful later on. Sometimes used synonymously with foreshadowing, but usually refers to a specific object.

Examples of Foreshadowing/Chekhov’s guns in media:

The 1981 Quarter (Or Extra Life Quarter) in Ready Player One

“Don’t Cross the Streams” in Ghostbusters (1984)

Winchester Rifle Hanging over the Bar in Shaun of the Dead (2004)

The Rita Hayworth Poster in The Shawshank Redemption (1994)

The Water Bottle in Bullet Train (2022)

In my opinion, a Chekhov’s Gun is the more refined twin of the deus ex machina; although it may seem like it comes out of nowhere, observant readers or those who go back into the story will realize that this event was set up from the beginning.

Foreshadowing is the key to turning a deus ex machina into a Chekhov’s Gun. It’s spreading breadcrumbs to maintain believability even when unbelievable things happen.

My advice: plant a line here and there referring to the object/element that will get you out of the corner.

These lines can be about a healing potion that a character carries around to save them when they’re at the brink of death, the fact that the city they’re fighting in often suffers from sinkholes, or that a character has a seemingly useless skill. 

However, haphazardly inserting foreshadowing into your story may come across as heavy-handed; make sure it aligns with the narrative beats. Particularly big Chekhov’s Guns, especially ones that “save the day," may require multiple foreshadowing elements.

It can take a lot of work to incorporate the foreshadowing smoothly, so make sure it actually saves you time in comparison to rewriting the whole scenario/plot point.

3. TAKE A BREAK

Sometimes, the solution to your problem may not come to mind because you’re too immersed into the writing process and not thinking of the bigger picture. Or maybe it might just be good old-fashioned writer’s block. Take a step back, reassess, and return with the scene properly re-evaluated. Maybe start a new book or TV show to get some inspiration, or check out one of my posts below!

How to Overcome Writer’s Block

How to Get Inspired to Write and Regain Creativity

4. ASK FOR HELP

Sometimes, it might be best to have another set of eyes on your story! A situation that may seem unsolvable to you may have an obvious solution to a writing buddy.

5. KNOW THAT SOMETIMES RE-WRITING IS NECESSARY

I know this sounds horrible. It’s something that I wouldn’t wish upon any writer.

Sometimes, however, no amount of foreshadowing can get your characters out of the debacle they’ve put themselves in. Either that, or the work that it would take to insert the foreshadowing would be more than it’d take to rewrite the scene or the plot point.

My suggestion would be to search for the last place that you didn't feel lost, and then cut out everything after that.

(NEVER DELETE MAJOR CHUNKS OF YOUR WRITING! ALWAYS CUT IT AND SAVE IT IN A SCRAP DOC—IT COULD COME IN HANDY LATER!)

Then, take the time to outline the scenario and figure out the solution to your problem beforehand. It will suck, but trust me, it'll be worth it in the end.

HOPE THIS HELPED, AND HAPPY WRITING!

[moonbakeries]

Your circumstances do not matter

Last night, I was alone in my room, just thinking back on how life used to be for me and how I am so very grateful to be living the current life that I am living.

I was reminiscing on the fact that i manifested my life despite what I was going through and thought I should just let you guys know, IT'S OKAY TO BE THINKING NEGATIVELY. You're not going to be thinking that way all the time.

LISTEN

I used to be planning my suicide, calculating how fast trains or cars could go for me to be dead on impact at least once a day and I STILL MANIFESTED my dream life.

I knew that I couldn't fail not after over-consuming this much. I did my best to push away the fact that deadlines were coming (hence the planning of my demise) and yet I still did it.

If you need a post or two, or a few success stories to fall back and motivate you when you feel like giving up, save them and get off tumblr. Go out if you can, pick up some hobbies.

Idk where I'm going with this but come on, how long are you going to be delaying the life you deserve to live.

[yestrday]

— BLUSH BLUSH ! anemo | hydro | geo

⤷ yan! hybrid! zhongli, itto, gorou, albedo

summary ! these land-dwelling hybrids have devotion as sturdy as stone and they’re ready to prove it anytime! if you’re feeling shackled by your father’s chain, do not worry, for you have your trusty hybrids to keep you company. should you have any concerns, just come to them anytime. after all, you are all bound by a contract that will never expire~

content ! possessive behavior; obsessive behavior; yandere behavior; mentions of violence; mentions of biting you; mentions of blood; mentions of drugs; sadism; thoughts of corruption

notes ! woah!!!! i have posted an actual full update!!! woah!!! applaud please!

in the neighboring country of your very own, legends say that a great dragon protected their lands in a time of tumultuous peril. were it not for the great dragon general and his army of mythical beasts, the people of that land would have succumbed to war and famine. he built the broken country from the ground back up, and introduced many kinds of craft to help them prosper. the land and its people did indeed flourish,  thanks to the wisdom of the dragon. but wise as he is, he ultimately decided that the humans must learn to rely on themselves, and so he and his army of beasts hid away, till they faded into nothing more but myths and stories…

you stare blankly at the gentleman who is calmly sipping his tea while he tells you this story, and venti's squawking laughter as he dies in the background. having let go of his human form, he sits comfortably with his scaled tail and his golden antlers out, and his black and gold hands gingerly cup the ceramic teacup. aether is beside you giving the man a deadpan stare. all the surrounding hybrids, save for a few clueless ones, give him the side eye. yeah, ZHONGLI is not fooling anybody.

unlike your other hybrids, it was you who came to him. your father had summoned you, much to the anger of your caring hybrids, and your servants had you scrubbed with scented soaps and dressed you in elegant pieces. aether accompanies you all the way to your company's building and soothes your worries away as you ride the elevator going up. the man accompanying you shoots a condescending gaze— the forgotten heir and their hybrid pet— and backing down after receiving aether’s dark glare. when you step into his office, you’re greeted by the apathetic look on your father’s face… and the handsome man beside him.

“this is ZHONGLI,” your father tells you, sounding bored as he resumes to reading his documents. “i heard that you’ve amassed yourself a following of hybrids of some sort.” you tense when you hear that, knowing the positions hybrids hold in this world. “what you do there is of no concern to me. ZHONGLI is a good and efficient secretary– he can help you control those beasts of yours. after all, i cannot risk having so many sources of harm around my child without someone to properly control them.” aether snarls under his breath at the mere implication of them hurting you, but you squeeze his hand. and so off you leave to your isolated villa, your back turning on your neglectful father once more.

ZHONGLI quickly proves himself to be quite the skilled hybrid. he can easily identify from just a glance on what kind of animal they are, as well as the specifications of their behavior, preferred environment, diet, and whatnot. he also helps you sort through your treasures— the jewels and antiques you’ve accumulated over time and tell you stories of these. he entertains you with new knowledge, helping you have a good grasp on the world beyond these walls.

he’s also very, very gentle with you. for the kindness you’ve shown these hybrids, you’ve gained a special place in ZHONGLI’s heart. oftentimes, he will pat your hair down as he recounts an old eastern fable, and straightens out any wrinkles in your shirt when he sees them. it pleases him to know that you are nothing like your father, but he knows that you’re still his blood-related child. if you had to go through any of the trials that your father had, ZHONGLI fears that you may grow just as cold-hearted as he is. so he makes sure to take the utmost care of you, so that you’ll never have to change from your kind and soft self.

ZHONGLI quickly becomes a trustworthy pillar that everyone can rely on. the younger hybrids tend to come to him for advice, and he sometimes even replaces aether as a substitute butler. but when it comes to fights, he only watches in amusement and sips on his tea. youngsters should let out some steam once in a while, he reasons. oh, and aether absolutely forbids him from touching the mora. that’s one thing no one ever trusts him with.

ZHONGLI’s pride and ego as a dragon hybrid has long dissipated since the eras have changed, but even so, it has always irritated him that your father tricked him into a contract. sometimes, when he looks at you, a dark urge dwells in the dark recesses of his mind. it’s a feeling he hasn’t felt ever since he was a young bloodthirsty general— that bloodlust and sadism. he knows you’re not your father… but what he does know is that your father has a great amount of affection he refuses to show to you. so what would happen if ZHONGLI were to… say, ruin you? to push you past your breaking point and present it to your father? 

he knows it’s not right to think such things of you, but you can’t blame him. ZHONGLI is sure you’d understand, like how you understand your every hybrid’s troubles. he’s done so much for you, after all. surely you’ll allow him to take a bite of you, and maybe more. you are a treasure, hidden away where no one can hear you scream. it doesn’t help that ZHONGLI is a dragon, heralded by legends as the mightiest of them all, and he wants to possess every single inch of you until you’re not yourself anymore.

he loves you, and he isn’t afraid to tell you. you are kind, and you are everything your father isn’t. his heart swells when you look at him and his smile is unstoppable when you excitedly chatter on about trivial matters. he wants to give you everything and more but it is in his blood to be selfish, and there’s nothing he wants more than to ruin you and your father too.

RELATIONSHIPS: zhongli and venti often get into passive-aggressive fights by covering up their insults with very fake compliments. poor xiao and aether often find themselves in the middle of this verbal war, but the two old men actually get along more than they’re willing to admit.

ITTO makes himself known by destroying a wall and a room. it was a nice and peaceful day, enjoying a cup of tea before another session of studying with zhongli. but soon enough, the entire manor shakes as a loud explosion comes from one of the outermost rooms, and everyone rushes to see what happened. in the middle of all the rubble and mess is a snorting bull, a stab wound in his side. when it looks up at you, it's eyes grow wide.

everyone covers your eyes when the bull morphs and reveals a naked muscular man with the stupidest grin ever. "hello, little one!" his voice nearly booms, but it stills sound faint as blood dribbles from his mouth. "uh, haha, i know it's awkward to ask this of ya since we just met, but ya look like the master of this house. care to help me out here?"

ITTO apparently has gotten himself injured thanks to a gang war. according to his story, his gang pissed off some of the local ones when they barged into their territory ("anywhere's arataki itto's territory!" he corrects zhongli, but is promptly ignored) and he split up from his gang while running away ("strategic retreat!"). the adrenaline must've gotten to him, because he was a long way off from where he originally came from.

ITTO is loud and childish, but you've never had a normal childhood, so his presence is greatly appreciated. he drags you into his silly games— catching beetles with you to raise them into fierce fighters, shouting out cringey finishing moves during your card games— it’s always a fun time whenever he’s around, and he even manages to wrangle other hybrids into playing with him. a lot of people are exasperated by him, but they do like how friendly and stupid he is, so he’s one of the more popular hybrids in town.

stupid ITTO knows how strong he is, but that doesn’t mean he stops to think before pulling you into one of his bone-crushing hugs. gorou often yelps and tries to pull him off, nagging the laughing bull about his strength and carelessness. when he does loosen his grip on you, he does make for a great cuddle buddy— a set of firm abs behind you, muscled biceps wrapped protectively around your hips, and his head atop yours. sometimes you’ll fall asleep in his arms, much to everyone’s dismay, because then itto would fall asleep with you and everyone knows he has a grip like death.

ITTO’s foolish, but he’s kind and surprisingly wise at times. he’s wise enough to know the dark leer in his fellow hybrids’ eyes, and strong enough to be able to whisk you away from potential danger without any consequences. he tends to move you away whenever territorial conflicts arise between the hybrids, distracting you with a game or two. itto knows all too well how hybrids are treated in this world… he doesn’t want you being scared of them either.

that’s why he doesn’t warn you about the dangers of the other hybrids either. one, because he doesn’t want to fill your head with scary thoughts about them and two, well, he becomes a hypocrite. he may try protecting you, but even that’s hard enough for him. when you smile at him so trustingly, it just breaks his heart in two… and stirs up something dark and possessive within his heart. 

ITTO wants to cradle you gently, continue to play these silly games with you and have fun with the others for your entire life, but sometimes, you make it hard for him to be a nice man. he’s a big, big man— so big, in fact, that you won’t be able to do anything when he wraps that meaty hand of his around your head and muffles your screams. once he pins you to the floor and starts nibbling at your soft flesh, you’ll be helpless and weak, and it’ll only take him a second before he draws blood. he hates himself for wanting to violate you like that, but the thought makes him salivate.

you don’t know the real world like ITTO and the others does, and he wishes to keep it that way. concepts like innocence and pure are too philosophical for the bull hybrid’s taste, but he wishes to keep you safe. he’s been ridiculed, scorned, and cursed at for simply existing. part of him knows its paranoia, part of him believes it, and a small part of him wishes that you continue to hide in the haven you’ve made for yourself.

RELATIONSHIPS: itto’s quite friendly with the entire inazuman group, ready to loop them in for some fun whether they like it or not. due to his outgoing nature, he’s also made friends with the others as well, especially xiao, and seems to be oblivious to his mythical status with his laments about his poor, small figure. aether keeps a tired yet amused smile at his tirades, but makes sure to keep you away from him to avoid his bad influence.

GOROU joins your family after being wrangled by the neck by itto, who had loudly proclaimed that he had found dinner. when he bursts in the front doors, there’s a yipping dog digging its canines into his hand. someone briefly mentions that bulls are supposed to be herbivores, but all you can think about how cute the puppy is. slowly creeping to the shiba inu, you gently stretch out a hand and start petting its soft fur. the small thing flicks its eyes to you and bares its teeth to growl, but a particularly good scratch has it whimpering timidly.

GOROU just might be the only sane one from the inazuman hybrids, minus thoma, who’s more or less subservient to you and ayato. he’s usually frantically running back and forth keeping an eye on itto (“humans are not to be held like that!”) and heizou (“do not try to eat kazuha again!”). when he’s not trying to keep it all together, he likes training in the open field out back, and his night time routines are often spent with other fluffy tail boys, who sit in a circle to groom each others tails. you’re part of this too, often finding yourself groomed by the others too. 

he’s a respected warrior, and he likes to help out around the house too. GOROU is fairly amiable and gullible, so he often plays the straight man of many pranks. he’s strict with himself and with others, but not a lot of people take him seriously, especially with ears and tail as fluffy as that. it’s quite troubling for him, and he doesn’t appreciate it when people stroke his ears out of the blue or ruffle his preciously groomed tail.

although young, he likes to present himself as respectable and responsible. after all, he wants you to trust him, to come to him whenever you need help! but it doesn’t help that whenever GOROU is engaged in a duel, his more base instincts come out and the heat of the fight rushes in his head. he’s growling and scratching the floor, he shoots with a precise aim but doesn’t neglect the use of all four limbs. you find it endearing how embarrassed he becomes when he’s finally relaxed after the duel and you of all people had to see him like that. while you coo and comfort him about how cool he was, all the other hybrids exchange  a look— that wasn’t about being cool, it was a show of primal instincts.

GOROU values your approval and affection more than anything in this world. it’s why he works so tirelessly to become a man you can rely on. he doesn’t allow himself to be clingy, but with some encouragement, he’ll immediately melt in your touch and he won’t let go. he sees you like a being near to divinity– if not divinity itself. your touch cleanses him, your voice soothes him, and should you give him a command, he’ll carry it out with perfect execution. he’s been demeaned as a brainless dog by society, an animal instead of an equal, but for you, he’ll proudly carry that title with blood on its name.

if you’re looking to gain more than what you currently have, GOROU is the perfect lackey to have. it’s not to say that all your dear hybrids are more than happy to follow your pursuit of greatness, but they all have their underlying agendas when it comes to you. meanwhile, GOROU’s wants and needs are all based on yours. he doesn’t need to have any other agendas— all he wants is for you to hold him for the night, bloody mess and all.

RELATIONSHIPS: gorou is usually yelling and running after itto, mostly failing to get him wrangled and disciplined. he’s only ever relaxed around kazuha and aether, who both patiently listen to his grumbles and complaints. the three of them are part of the unofficial tail society of the manor, who along with the other fluffy tail-havers like to sit in a circle and groom each other’s tails.

there was once a time when common household products mysteriously disappeared from your cabinets. it whipped the servants into quite a fright, and rumors of a ghost haunting the halls were popular for a time. it was only when a servant found a small cavern in the side of the hill’s landscape, where the said products were organized meticulously, did they find the culprit— a handsome boy sporting feline eyes and a pair of fluffy ears and tail to boot. when ALBEDO meets your eyes, the wildcat hybrid smiles in a way that would make any romantic’s heart flutter.

“apologies for the inconvenience i may have brought you,” he says in a voice like a fairytale prince’s. “i should have introduced myself sooner instead of stealing from your cabinets. but as you can see,” he poi kntedly stares at the dozen wary eyes behind your back. “... i may have gotten a bit shy in the presence of such… intimidating companions.” 

ALBEDO is almost immediately absolved of all sin. who can get mad at such a pretty face? even your head maid who had been angrily fuming and ranting these past weeks immediately quickly turned all sparkly-eyed and accommodating as soon as albedo sent a charming smile her way. he becomes a quick favorite among the staff, because oh, he’s so nice to talk to! all these scary hybrids are either brooding or scheming or scarily strong and here’s this angel from above come to give them a sense of normality! he’s not nicknamed prince for nothing!

you always feel at ease around ALBEDO, and you like how gentle he is with you. his words are soft-spoken and carefully chosen, and he listens to your insecurities with a patient ear. he shares with you advice and his own perspective of things (albeit a bit flat on the social aspects), and he draws you little doodles to cheer you up. you both have a little game that you play where he draws on his sketchpad and you try to guess what it is before he finishes it. he always finds a way to trick you though, so you never guess correctly. he laughs quietly when you declare that one day you’ll figure it out, and pout when he ruffles your hair like a big brother.

ALBEDO likes how… warm you feel next to him. a favorite past time of his is accompanying you on your strolls and observe the wildlife with you. his hands squeeze yours as you point out the funny cloud in the sky or when you ask about a specific type of flora. if you’re sleepy, you often nap on his lap under the shade of a tree. he can feel his heartbeat racing as his fingers stroke your chin and trace your eyelids, and his big fluffy tail wraps your torso protectively. all he hears is the skritches of his pencil against paper and your faint snoring.

ALBEDO is… passive. strangely so, amidst a harem of dangerous hybrids. he makes it a point to never admit his feelings out loud. to verbalize such fantasies about you, the one who keeps him sheltered, it feels disrespectful to you. you’re too naive of the outside world, too innocent of the darker recesses of the human, er, hybrid mind. he wants to protect this innocence, because there’s too much darkness already in the world.

he hides away in his study, pencil against paper scratching away as his eyes zero in this unfinished portrait. he plans to make a portrait of your likeness, but none of these copies can compare to the real deal. an eye is too off, the nose too thin, the smile not pretty enough. he doodles some little yous on the corner of his scrapped portraits… and blushes furiously. he tears up the indecency and throws them on the fire.

is it so terrible to want to play with you a little? he may put on the big brother act now, but that’s mostly because he likes seeing the expressions you make whenever he praises you. your expressions are so interesting, despite them being like any other human’s. exactly what makes him so drawn to you? it’s a research topic he must explore one day. but for now, ALBEDO is content to play house with you for a little while, and shut away his more sexual instincts for a little while longer. there’d be plenty of time to experiment on you later, once he’s reached his limits. for now, he’ll let the potion simmer for a little while longer ♡

RELATIONSHIPS: albedo often shuts himself away from everyone and stay inside his lil old lab conducting experiments and the like, but once in a while there are people who drag him out. he often experiments on a disgruntled aether, who he bribes with mora. cyno thinks of him as a like-minded friend, but tighnari thinks that the way albedo stares at the jackal is much like a scientist staring at microbes under a glass.

[remi-thirsts]

❝ 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐘 𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀 ❞

pairing: r. suna x fem!reader summary: Headcanons abt ur man who loves to record his fav girl ! content: very suggestive, established relationship, (p -> v), oral (f + m receiving), fingering, pet names (baby), cursing, filming (consensual for both parties), teasing (when is suna not teasing?), lmk if I missed anything. (kind of a soft smut release since i'm not confident)

✧ bf!suna who whips out his phone anytime you wear anything that's tight around your curves.

"Okay Rin, I'm coming out tell me what you think of this dress." He lets out an uninterested hum, because you've been in the store for at least two hours. You need a new dress for your cousin's birthday party.

When you walk out and give him a little twirl he immediately exits whatever game he was playing to pass the time and opens the camera app.

"Holy shit, look at that ass baby. Mmm and those pretty tits."

"Can you focus for like one second?

✧ bf!suna who sends you horny videos throughout the day, because he misses you.

dookie butt 😝💖 [1 video attachment] look what u do to me

you -boyyyy i'm at work rn -but holy fuck... you moan so loud that i had to turn my volume down and i think i got looks from people

dookie butt 😝💖 so.... no titties ?

you ding ding ding ! you win blue balls

dookie butt 😝💖 at least send me some ass 😒

✧ bf!suna has a whole ALBUM on his phone of videos of you two fucking.

✧ bf!suna loves watching that one video where it's so shaky and you can barely tell what's going on, but he knows. He was eating you out so good, he had you back arching off of the bed, and your toes curling. You couldn't even hold the phone properly like he asked you too. Being the meanie he is he continued to harshly suck on your clit and hit your g-spot with his, long, experienced, rough fingers even after you came. You ended up squirting all over his face..

✧ bf!suna LOVES to record his dick bulging in your belly. That's how he knows he's hitting it good.

✧ bf!suna comes up with all these ridiculous scenarios/roleplays that you always seem to agree to do with him. He records ALL of them.

✧ bf!suna saves every single nude you send him, because despite what you say he thinks you're beautiful all day everyday.

✧ bf!suna sends you Twitter links asking if you wanna recreate them. Anytime he watches them he can only think about you and himself.

✧ bf!suna has no shame and will watch your homemade videos even with his friends around.

"Damn, Rin whatever yer watching must be really interestin'!" Atsumu spits sarcasm at the EJP middle blocker.

"Way more interesting than you by a long shot." Suna calmly replies which pisses his friend off even more. The blond snatches Suna's phone. Only to hand it back seconds later with a flushed face, "Gosh yer a pervert, Sunarin, a pervert."

✧ bf!suna is like a photographer when you get a new lingerie set. He'll ask you to make different poses and stand at different angles so he can get "the best possible picture"

✧ bf!suna sends you audios of him moaning because he knows you love it.

dookie butt 😝💖 [1 audio attachment] :3

you RIN. I'M MELTING WTF U SOUND SO HOT

dookie butt 😝💖 u should send something back to show ur appreciation

you 🫡

✧ bf!suna never posts or shares your videos unless you ask him too, and the ones he does share with the internet are the ones where no one can see your faces.

✧ bf!suna all in all loves you and your beauty. Every single video he's recorded is proof of that. When you watch them, you notice the little things, like how he'll prop up a pillow for you, or how he'll quietly ask if it's okay for him to keep going and whatnot. Many would think that he's just horny all the time and doesn't care about you, but he does care. Way more than haters will realize.

©𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈-𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐒 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!

[dee-the-red-witch]

Last month, I ranted about the diy hrt links on here. This month it's gonna be letters.

Because fucking letters. Despite WPATH 8.0 officially affirming that all we should need is informed consent, for hormones, surgeries, and a bunch of other services, a lot of states and insurance companies haven't updated to the new standard, and probably won't until they're sued into doing so (and who has lawyer money. Ever.). Which means having to get letters from different professionals that affirm you really are trans and really do want this for good reason.

It's absurdist fucking red tape designed specifically to keep folks from transitioning. Becaus eit saves insurance companies money, and because the harder they make it, the more of us are likely to give up before getting services we deserve. Plus, who the fuck has time and money to see not one but two therapists?

That's where orgs like GALAP come in. This is a geoup of therapists that are absolutely here to get you your letters for surgeries or whatever. Without having to spend months in sessions with them to prove it. This can get you over that hurdle that much quicker.

So if you need a letter, or two, or two therapist letters PLUS a doctor letter like I did in oh-so-progressive Washington State, you can get them easily. There's ways to do this and there's hope. Go spread that.

(And if you like this, hit the post source link and sub, maybe? It's pretty much my main stable income these days, and I have my own situation to try and get out of.)

[universalitgirlsblog2]

💗🍰BECOMING SELFISH IS THE BEST THING I DID💗🍰

This post is my notes of thewizardliz video of the same topic as this post . I always tend to lose the notes I make 😑, so I thought that I should make a post on this ( lol )

💗STOP ARGUING WITH PEOPLE WHO AREN'T WILLING TO LISTEN

If the boundaries were crossed, the conversation is over . They aren't worth your time or energy.

🍰START PRIORITIZING YOUR OWN NEEDS & WANTS

" Whatever I want , goes first ". Fill your own cup first, Are you whole ? Are you okay ?

💗STOP BEING ALWAYS AVAILABLE & TRYING TO SAVE EVERYONE

You cannot save everyone. To be honest , you cannot same anyone . If a person does not want to change , if a person doesn't want to be saved,you will not save anyone & just end up losing your energy.

🍰SOMETIMES YOU HELPING IS ACTUALLY SABOTAGING GOD'S PLAN

People get certain problems / situations in their life because God gives them , it's for them to go through. So they can become wiser & fulfill their life purpose. If someone is stepping in & trying to be their savior , they are sabotaging God's plan & blocking their own blessings.

💗START BEING OKAY WITH PEOPLE MISUNDERSTANDING YOU

They don't have to understand you. It's very reasonable they don't understand you , people have come from different countries , culture, environment. They don't have the same mindset or heart as you. You cannot make them understand you because they aren't you. If you constantly go through life thinking everybody has the same heart as you , you will be hurt . People are different. Let them be.

🍰REALISE THAT YOU CAN ONLY CHANGE YOURSELF

Humans love comfort. In order to change, it requires alot of courage , strength & discomfort. If you are constantly putting your energy trying to change people , to become their best version. You are wasting your energy that you can use to become your best version. Lead by example .

💗STOP NEEDING PEOPLE TO VALIDATE YOUR SELF WORTH

You don't need anyone to tell you how good , smart or beautiful you are , if you already see those qualities in yourself. If you only feel that you are a good person when someone else tells you that you are a good person, if you need validation from other people , then you are just a slave of other people because their opinion can change your reality.When you are the one who always creates their own reality. You have to be strong in your own self , tell yourself how amazing you are.

🍰TALK TO YOURSELF , TAKE YOURSELF ON A DATE , HUG YOURSELF , COMPLIMENT YOURSELF

Say in the mirror how amazing you are to yourself.

💗LESS CHASING MORE ATTRACTING

Tune in with your feminine energy . Be relaxed, just do what is good for you & your body. Become open to receiving to your blessings & manifestations. If you aren't desperately chasing after things , then you are really whole.

🍰ONLY ADDING GREAT PEOPLE IN YOUR LIFE

Allow people who add value in your life. Do they make you happy ? Is it a both way thing ?.

💗STOP SEEKING PEOPLE'S PERMISSION TO DO WHAT YOU WANT.

You don't need anyone's permission to do what is good for yourself. You know yourself well enough. " I know I can do it & I will do it " . Others opinions should be irrelevant to you , how cocky people can be to think that they know you better than you know yourself. They haven't gone through anything you have gone through. They haven't lived your life so who are they to decide what is good for you ? " Mmmm..none of your buisness ,goodbye "

[cheshirebitch]

Alastor x Reader

𝔸𝕞 𝕀 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕥? pt 2

( part 1 here ) ( part 3 here )

 Husk was the first to notice me, since we both thought I was going to die. 

“Oh (Y/n) you son of a bitch!” Angel grabbed me tightly into a hug, squeezing the air out of my lungs. Charlie ran up with Vaggie tailing her.

“How did you do it?” Vaggie and Charlie asked at the same time. Husk looked over and barked out, “How did she do what? Because she saved him and she also somehow saved herself from Boss Man’s wrath.” He took a swig of his drink, eyeing me suspiciously. I knew he was going to pamper me with a million questions later. 

“Well, I just offered Vox information that sounded valuable in a state of dire quick thinking. Sure, he can be smart, but not on the spot. It was simply a trick play of environment and temptation.” After all, isn’t that what I’m good at? 

“What was the info you gave?” Curiosity got the best of Angel. I smiled before pressing a finger to my lips.

“Can’t spill. Even if I wanted to.” A red magic spread across my face where it looked like my mouth was sewed shut. Angel recognized it from when he saw my chains appear before. 

“Oh doll…” Pity. A look of pity is all I received and it made my chest tighten. My eyes scanned quickly over everyone. Everyone had the look of pity. I wiped the magic off before laughing dryly. “I have my ways around it obviously.” I waved them off. I don’t need their pity. I chose this. I just regret it lately. Alastor wasn’t always this closed off, at least not to me. We used to share almost everything. It was us against the world until he left me alone in it, twice.

“So, I take it we pissed off the Vee’s?” Vaggie stated as she looked at me and Charlie. She was holding up her phone that had Velvette’s recent social media post explicitly saying that Hell was about to freeze over.

“Well, it did give us the chance to actually redeem Angel Dust.” 

“Everything comes with a price though, Charlie.” I alluded to what was to come. The battles I can see happening here in the future are enough to worry me on what’s to come. The future is so unsettled on what can happen right now that I can only see small things and not the big picture. I felt a tightness in my chest again. 

“Stand straight darling.” Alastor smoothly spoke behind me as he pushed his hand against the small of my back and drifted up to make my spine straighten. I hate how he only gets on my case about that when Husk literally has a hunch back at this point. Deep breaths (Y/n). Deep breaths.

“Thanks sir.” I said through gritted teeth. Alastor flinched slightly at how I called him sir and how tightly I said it. He looked at me as if asking with his eyes, What is your problem? I couldn’t help but shift my jaw tighter. I squinted my eyes, You’re the problem dick. He clenched his jaw as well and pressed his hand harder into the small of my back, any harder and he would be pushing me. Somehow though, I noticed how his presence made the tightness in my chest go away. Despite the fact we were arguing through our eyes. Charlie turned towards Alastor, dragging our conversation to a quick halt. 

“What should we do in preparation?” She was mostly looking at me and not Alastor which made my once annoyed face into a smug one. They are looking towards me for leadership now. I warned you Al, don’t play with fire. After all, you are the reason I’m down in this mess anyway.

“We need to cover all our bases and make it seem like we aren’t even worried about whatever they are doing, and continue business as normal. Alastor and I will cover the rest. Just watch each other and don’t leave without a partner for a little while.” He seemed to relish in the fact I still sounded like I needed him. I can’t help but feel like he loves that feeling, even if he left me and still won’t tell me anything anymore. 

After spilling plans with Charlie and the team on what our next moves should be, I dismissed myself towards a separate room. I know he can feel the slight anger during our whole interaction because he swiftly follows me. 

“Yes, Alastor?” He smiled wider with his stupid half lidded eyes. But my god do I always melt- stop it. You’re mad, remember? How could he keep playing with your feelings? It's like these seven years took everything we built between each other and ripped it to shreds as if we were never anything. Were we though? 

“Inner battles dear?” I wish he would let that cheesy smile slip once or at least make it look sincere again. 

“You tell me. You’re the one who kicked me out of my own room.” He hummed playfully as I scrunched my face in anger.

“Well, since you’re my pet, it’s also my room.” That cocky motherf-

“We need to talk, Alastor. I want to begin the negotiation of my contract coming up soon.” A slip, his eyes screamed worry but then it was gone. Bingo.

“Renewing it again? We both know you will.” My smile matched his which unnerved him slightly.

“Remind me why again. If I remember correctly, you abandoned me for seven years, won’t talk to me anymore, and have been acting weird lately. You aren’t the Alastor I signed my soul away to.” I seethed. He was holding his jaw so tight I thought he was about to crack his teeth. I leaned closer, almost on my tippy toes to get in his face, his head looked down at me. I saw a glimpse of those eyes he used to give me. The eyes he would stare at me with while I listened to him talk for hours. Then they were replaced with a slight hurt. He opened his mouth, his smile quivering as he thought of the right words.

“There you are! Nifty got stuck in the toilet again, can you help us get her out?” Charlie spoke loudly. Everything I was about to get, all the answers, just…

…gone.

The feeling of overwhelming… EVERYTHING. I wanted to yell at Charlie. 

Why can’t you just wait? Fuck Charlie, you just ruined everything.

Alastor quickly fixed all the vulnerabilities he had and proclaimed, “Well of course! What type of help would I be around here if I didn’t?” I watched him walk away with Charlie, a hurt look that he caught when he glanced back. 

His smile faltered quick enough for me to see it. His eyes glanced at Charlie as if trying to tell me something before he fixed his behavior and carried on as normal with her when she looked back at him. They swiftly walked out as I was left in the entertainment room. 

Alastor, what did you do?

Husk was at the bar cleaning glasses from Angel and Cherri Bomb’s celebration. Swirling around my drink, wishing I didn’t drink as much as I did. I will hand it to Angel and Cherri for having such a persuasive way with drinking. My hair was slightly messy, my normal pantsuit switched out to my comfy clothes, and my eyes looked tired. 

“You finally going to admit you had too much yet?” Husk chuckled out. I chuckled back before I sipped the rest of my drink down quickly. The glass hitting the counter answered Husk instead, and the sound of it sliding down to him as I smiled at him.

“Nope.” I taunted back. He shook his head, pouring more into my cup, and gently sat in front of me. I stared at it for a little while before Husk sighed and piped up, “Penny for your thoughts?” He knew I loved it when he said the sayings I normally do. Made me feel like we really are real friends, despite the situation we are both in. 

“Well, I think I have a theory on what has Alastor… different.” I was careful with my choice of words as Husk eyed me. He knew I was never going to let this new Alastor last long. I mean Husk even was starting to get treated more like a dog rather than someone who helps Alastor with a slight rough friendship. Hard to believe we were all friends once. 

“Continue?” Husk poured himself a matching drink as he watched me intensely. This isn’t something I would bring out loud unless I had some sort of evidence pointing towards it. I shuffled my hands around before stealing a quick sip of my drink.

“I think Alastor made a deal he regrets but can’t talk about.” 

(Part 3...?)

(Lore buildingggg I promise next update will have one question answered. Can you guess which one? As always all characters and world belongs to the respected owners <3 story belongs to me. Tagged who I could! Thank you for loving the first one!)

(Should I add the songs that inspire the writing?)

TAG LIST: @immortal-ries @kat-nee @shybananabagellover @tiedyedghoulette @alyslovesflowers @seven709 @vixie--21 @montis-posts @trashbin-nie @sh3sa1dwhat @for-hearthand-home @funtimefreddynaofficial @jyoongim @eviebuggg

[netherfeildren]

How to Endure Ardor:

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel teaches you how to love him.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Post outbreak; QZ Joel Miller; I'm saying this, but the setting is sort of ambiguous anyways, Stream of consciousness, Character Study, Alternating POVs; PIV sex; The troubles and toils of breaking up and then making up with a fucked up old man; Uncaring Joel; Mentions of painful sex; Toxic relationships or situationships or whatever you want to call it; I think I'm addicted to the idea of a Joel who'll never love you and I should probably see a doctor about it

A/N: she remembers how to write, who'd of thought!

Word Count: 1.3K

Read on AO3

This is a lesson:

“Tell me again,” she says, and it’s a begging.

A begging like what? Something that carries shame and smallness in the shape of it. Stay a little longer. It humiliates him for the wretchedness it pulls from him. Joel, please. Seeping blood the color of her supplication. Please, she says, please. And who else says please to him anymore? Who asks him for anything anymore but her? The only ones who ever had are long past and gone, and he can’t even barely remember they were ever really there to ask anything of him to begin with—can’t remember what it feels like to owe someone something and want to give it to them in a way that will actually make him. 

Tell me what again? That I want you? That I’ll stay? That I love you? I’ll come back, he says instead, the only thing he can promise and keep. And he wonders if it humiliates her too, the way he lies, the way he runs, the way he swears, the way he always comes back and comes back but never returns with the things she needs. A humiliation just like it is a begging. 

The thing they have: it’s strange, fickle, honest in its lies, very, very ugly. An ugliness that is shocking in a world gone to rot already. The sky doesn’t shine anymore and they bask in it. 

But also, and, the thing they have: it’s physical, saving.

This is obvious too, even if only to them.

He slides inside and you’re what? Hot and wet and slick, and—yes, a thing like a dream, but still only a thing. Something to have, something close to desire, but not quite, more like biological want. Woman turned possession. In his mind this is an excuse, a reason, a begetting. Like, what—like what? Like when you want a thing very badly but it is very bad for you, and you need to make up any excuse to have it, lie and lie and lie—to your mother, your best friend, the mirror—a begetting like that. Easy to understand only if you’ve been there. 

It started simple, it started like nothing, it started like the first time you meet someone and you know they’ll matter, you know they’ll mean something. So it started like what? Like a lie. 

Shifts at the QZ, long and toiling and reminders of the sort of life that died in an outbreak of monsters, only if for how unlike that past it was. Humans or fungus or—

—men who hurt—you, men who refuse your love, Joel Miller.

The crutch of your age, of you being weaker or smaller or in need, him being easily felled, wooed, easily conquered by something young and given without a try because there was never the opportunity for trying before. 

Now, it is like this: you take my cock and you take my come and you take my nothing, and I give so little and yet you still find a way to take and take and take, leech of a girl, dream of a girl, hungry. And with the excuse that it’s only in a way you contrive for your own self. But in the end, what does that make you? What do I make you into? 

These are the things he asks himself. 

Perhaps she goes away for a time, tries the route of escape, of variety. But when she inevitably comes back because addiction is riddled always in the same sorts of ways: did you try different bodies? Did you try different flavors and sounds? Did you look for me in all of them? 

The answer is usually yes.

At reunion’s turn: he rolls her over to face her, Joel, damp and panting and trying to be something—perhaps better, more honest—after a season of variety and honest attempts and shut eyes. He’s so hard for her, always is. 

Again: he slides inside and you’re what? His, undeniably. Not yours. Something to want but not desire because it’s too romantic a notion, and yes, there’s a difference even if he can’t put into words what that difference specifically is. Body and heart, perhaps, definitions that differ between disparate anatomical parts or levels of deniability. 

Nothing either of you have ever been able to put into words when lust and love aren’t things you can even say out loud for the shame of them, even if they exist within said same anatomy. 

You come together, the season passed, the separation passed but still kept at hand for the next time the closeness becomes too much. 

“Tell me again,” she says, and this time he remembers what she’s asking for.

“I fucking missed you, baby. Missed this pussy.” Because he can’t say it’s her heart he missed. Because Joel Miller does not have honesty in his arsenal. 

He spreads you wide, knee to shoulder so it hurts and pulls, so it’ll be sore and reminding tomorrow. The slap of his pelvis against the back of your thighs is obscene, wet and lewd, a string of girl cum keeping you connected, such togetherness, curve of your ass to the root of his cock—the two of you are together again. 

You know what I thought, when I tried to go away, you say. He doesn’t want to know, but he doesn't tell you so either, only slides in again, the mouth of your womb right there, threatening. I’m never going to feel like this again, and I hate how certainly I know that. He wonders if the unsaid part is that he’s the recipient of that feeling, the hate. 

He wonders if the pinch inside him is hurt. He wonders if the throb is love. 

All he says because he can’t say the rest is, I missed you, I missed you, and if he could look himself in the mirror—something that’s twenty years past lost—he’d ask: are you alright? Just tell me you’re okay. And it sounds in your own voice and with your own care and the feel of your own warmth. Is there anything I can do?

Other times, he sees himself through your own eyes, and then he knows for certain that the throb is love 

So he makes up for lost time, hard—and if it was a thing he knew how to be— loving. Mouth to cunt first, primed and soft and begging, making you come again and then another once more, then inside of you. Slow, splitting you open, red cunt like a wound, balls slapping wet, pulling out to watch the gape of the space he’s carved for himself. His cock is so hard and missing you something desperate. And he’s reminded of what it is to really miss something in a way he hadn’t been in twenty years of apocalypse, he’s forced to realized that it’s been so long since he’d had something to love that he’d not realized the feeling of missing that long past someone had gone away, only faint memory remained. 

Violent, is what this makes him after that realization—thrusts turning hard and punishing. How dare you give yourself to me? How dare you then take yourself away? You come around him again, the gift of your orgasm. How dare you not be able to accept the little I’m able to give when I’m trying so desperately fucking hard to give you even just this? 

He fucks you mean, he fucks you in the way of a man who doesnt know how to say the things he needs to say, in a way that’s confusing, that could make a less discerning woman feel only the hurt. 

But then again, you know him.

Fucks you in a way that is a little bit like love.

And so, amidst all of it, there is an honesty amongst the lies. A truth unspoken that they both know—I’ll come back because I need you, because you’re the only one who can give me the things I'm not strong enough to ask for out loud. 

You’re not sure which of the two of you is the one saying it.

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[javier-pena]

embers

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x f!reader

Word Count: 9.5k

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You're engaged to be married to a man you've never met. Arthur Morgan is supposed to escort you across the country to meet him. You should keep your distance, but the dangers of the road bring you closer and closer together with each passing mile.

Warnings: smoking | drinking | canon-typical violence | allusions to rape | reader is a virgin | loss of virginity | descriptions of injury and medical procedures (Arthur gets stitches) | reader has hair that can be pulled | hand job | oral (m receiving) | masturbation (f and m) | mutual masturbation | dirty talk | voyeurism | exhibitionism | praise kink | fingering | (unprotected) p in v sex

Notes: So there's this post ... and It has been on my mind for months so I had to write this exact scenario with Arthur, naturally. Again, this is way longer than it was supposed to be, but working on this fic allowed me to daydream a lot, so I can't complain. As always, I wouldn't have been able to do it without Dani @alexturner, who pushed me in the right direction and came up with the ending (because I'm not good at writing those)!!

***

You’re not pretty. At least that’s what everyone told you from the moment you could understand those words. Your mother, the maid she hired to look after you, the boys working for your father, the marm, the people in town. Since you were little, you’ve been hearing it over and over again. “It’s such a shame she ain’t pretty, what’s she gonna do with brains?”

The thing is, you also don’t feel very smart. If you were, you’d have found a way to leave your godforsaken town for one of the big cities in the east as soon as you could read the timetable down by the train station. You would’ve found a way to get out of this marriage your father arranged for you. Ambrose Longabaugh was his name. Ambrose Longabaugh. From what you have heard, he shares your lot: anything but handsome, but at least he has money.

No one was sad to see you go, save for your little brother, who held you tight and made you promise to come back if you didn’t like your betrothed. You had promised, knowing you were lying. It didn’t matter if you liked him or not, he was the man you were going to marry. You weren’t getting out of this. Your father had made sure of that.

Mr. Morgan is riding ahead of you, sitting in the saddle with his shoulders slumped, a cigarette dangling between his lips. You can smell the smoke on the crisp fall air, even though you’re trying to keep your distance. It’s not that he scares you – not as much as other men do, not as much as your future husband does – but you don’t like him very much. Your father is paying him to take you out west where Ambrose Longabaugh will one day take over his father’s cattle business. And Mr. Morgan is doing it without complaint, hardly acknowledging your presence. He talks more to his horse than he talks to you.

You let your eyes wander across the mountains around you and sigh. The first time you had seen them, your mouth had hung open in awe. Now you feel trapped by them. You can’t go back, and there’s only one way forward. You sigh again. No, you’re neither pretty nor smart.

“Break?” Mr. Morgan asks from up front. It’s only the fifth word he has said to you today; the others were good morning and let’s go.

“Yes,” you agree, not because you need it but because it gives you something else to do.

You stop near a small river with a shallow bank where Mr. Morgan can refill your waterskins. While he’s busy, you stretch your legs and pick up a few rocks from the riverbed to toss them into the water. The rushing of the water fills your ears, drowning out both thoughts and sounds. You take a deep, calming breath and close your eyes.

When you open them again, Mr. Morgan has taken off his lambskin coat and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. He’s washing his face and neck in the cold water of the river, a wet stain forming on his collar, drops running down his lean, muscular forearms that are still tan from working outdoors all summer. Your face heats up with an emotion you don’t quite understand, and you turn away from him, pretending to be interested in some moss-covered rocks. You’re not supposed to look.

He startles you when he touches your arm lightly, making you turn around. You hadn’t heard him coming over the sounds of the river. His coat is back on, but you can see his neck glistening in a few places still.

“You shouldn’t wander, ma’am,” he says. That’s four more words for today.

You look around. “Indians, right?” you ask with a small laugh.

His face remains serious. “No. White men. Gangs. They like to hide out here.”

You watch his Adam’s apple move as he swallows and your throat immediately mimics his. “Then why are we taking this road if it’s so dangerous?”

He shrugs. You realize he hasn’t let go of your arm yet. “It’s fast.”

“My father –”

“Your father planned this route.”

You swallow again. “I’ll be careful, sir. Thank you.” He lets go of your arm then, and you walk back to your horse, your face now heating up with an emotion you definitely recognize: embarrassment.

You make camp later that day where the trees are standing close together. While he builds a fire, you pick at a pine cone you found on the ground. Somewhere in the distance you hear a howl, but you’ve learned that if it’s not loud enough to make Mr. Morgan look up from his task, then it’s nothing to be worried about. And he stokes the fire, eyes fixed to the flames.

After dinner, he hands you a small bottle and when the sharp taste of whiskey makes you cough, he smirks. So you take another sip, holding his gaze. He looks away first, pulls a torn-up pack of cigarettes from his coat, and offers you one. You accept, surprised.

“Don’t let my father find out you’re corrupting me,” you tease.

He only makes, “Hm,” in response.

The smoke from the cigarette burns your throat, just like the whiskey, but this time you manage to suppress the cough. “Do you have family, Mr. Morgan?” you ask, watching how he uses a branch to stoke the fire.

“No,” is his simple reply.

Now it’s your turn to make, “Hm,” before you add, “No one you’re sweet on?”

You don’t really care about the answer, why would you? But when he gives you another, “No,” a careful one, it makes your heart pound faster. Until he turns the tables.

“What about you?”

“Oh,” you say, “I don’t know, I haven’t met my fiancé yet.” And you don’t want to be thinking about him right now.

Mr. Morgan looks at you, his head cocked to one side. “Come now,” he pushes, as if you’re being evasive on purpose. “That ain’t what I’m askin’.”

You sigh. “It’s not? I’m spoken for. I have no business thinking about other men.” You don’t mean to be so frank, but the words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. And you can tell from the look on Mr. Morgan’s face that he still thinks you’re not honest with him.

“Hm,” he makes, and you dread what might be coming next.

“I’m going to bed,” you tell him, putting an end to your conversation. He opens his mouth to add something, but you don’t give him a change. You lie down and pull your thin blanket over your body, face hot with embarrassment. The last thing you see before falling asleep is Mr. Morgan staring at the flames, a quiet smile on his lips.

Later that night, you wake up to shouts. What pulls you from your sleep entirely is a gunshot that reverberates through the forest. “Mr. Morgan?” you shout, because he isn’t sitting next to the fire anymore and you can’t see him anywhere. Then you hear a sound that makes your blood run cold, a snarl, a growl, but animalistic, wild, unlike anything you’ve ever heard. You jump up from your bedroll, ready to run, but then you remember Mr. Morgan’s warning. It’s better to stay here, in the light of the dwindling fire, than to take your chances out there. “Mr. Morgan?” you try again, this time a hiss, as you frantically search the darkness beyond your camp. It gets so dark out here at night.

A shout is your answer, a deep, “Hey!” Short and fast. The horses whinny, and you’re only now realizing they’re stomping the ground, tearing up the soil with their hooves, the whites in their eyes visible, ears pressed tightly back. You try to swallow your panic, but it gets harder with every passing second.

Then something moves between the trees and Mr. Morgan stumbles back into the camp, a gun in one hand, a torch in the other. He has a wild look in his eyes too, just like the horses, but when they land on you, he relaxes, his face assuming its usual, stoic mask. “Mountain lion,” he says. “It’s gone.”

“What does that mean?” you ask, your voice trembling.

“Chased it off,” he explains. “It ain’t coming back here.”

“The horses …,” you start.

But he walks toward the fire, toward you. “You did good,” he says, dropping to his knees next to you, so close, too close. You can smell the gunpower on him, and the sweat; you’ve never been so close to a man before, not even your own father. “Here.” He hands you the whiskey again. “It’s gone, I promise.”

You wish your hands wouldn’t shake so much. He grabs yours with one to steady, his warm skin like fire against yours, unscrews the stopper with the other, not with impatience but oh so gently. You manage to take a sip on your own, but he watches you intently for any signs of distress.

“You’ll have to get used to it,” he says, stowing away the bottle. “This land out here … it’s wild.”

You nod. Now that the initial burst of panic is dulled, you feel tears sting your eyes.

“But you’ll manage.” His voice is so calming. “You’re a brave girl.”

*******

The hooves of your horse pound out a slow, steady beat against the hard ground. You’re tired, every muscle in your body is sore, but you push on without complaint, following Mr. Morgan up a winding mountain and back down on the other side. The days are so similar they’re bleeding into one – the mountain lion … did it attack three nights ago? Five? You don’t remember. All you know is that your heart picks up speed when he looks at you, that every evening your conversation around the fire becomes a little bit longer, that you wish you could go on like this forever, never to arrive at your destination.

Sometimes at night, when you can’t sleep but you pretend to, you can hear him sing, sometimes to himself, sometimes to the horses. Your heart almost flies out of your chest when he does it. He hasn’t touched you anymore since the night of the mountain lion attack, but you wish he would. Even though everything else about him confuses you, you wish you could feel his skin against yours again; such longing, it almost consumes you.

Is this what it’s supposed to feel like? Did your cousin feel like this when she ran off with that cowboy? Did your mother and father feel like this; is that why they got married? Are you supposed to feel like this when you meet your fiancé? Or is this something else entirely? Is there something wrong with you?

“Break?” he asks once the ground is beginning to even out.

“You know, you keep asking for breaks so much I’m starting to think you don’t want us to reach our destination,” you tease.

He just shrugs and stops his horse. You halt too and climb off, your legs steady when they hit the ground. It wasn’t like that in the beginning; the first few days he had to help you off your horse and you could barely stand. It’s astonishing what a difference a few weeks can make.

You stretch, then begin to walk up and down the path. It’s cold, sitting so still up on that horse, and you flex your fingers, trying to get some feeling back into them. Mr. Morgan, meanwhile, sits down on a tree stump to write in a leather-bound notebook. You’ve seen him use it before but you don’t quite know what it’s for. He’s probably tracking your progress or taking notes on the weather.

Careful to keep him in sight, you veer off into the underbrush, looking at the trees and the different kinds of plants growing on the ground. You pretend you can read the language of the forest, looking for tracks of animals or some mushrooms you might be able to eat. Just like you’ve seen Mr. Morgan do countless of times. When you do find something, you’re not sure what to make of it.

“Mr. Morgan?” Your voice is raised as you try to keep it steady.

You hear his footsteps immediately but you don’t dare to turn around, your eyes fixed on the sight before you. He stops next to you, and you can hear his steady breathing. The knot in your chest immediately dissolves.

“Hm,” he makes.

“What happened here?” you ask. Now the tremor in your voice is all too audible.

He hesitates just for a second, weighing his options, but then he says, “Some people were camping here, a family by the looks of it.”

“Where are they?” you ask, finally turning toward him. The cold, calculating look on his face sends a shiver down your spine.

“Ma’am …,” he says slowly.

“You can tell me. I can handle the truth.”

You look back at the burned-out wagon, the torn clothes hanging from tree branches, all that blood on a log next to a cold fire pit. You don’t need him to tell you. You just want him not to confirm your suspicions.

“They’re dead,” he answers. “Killed. For money.”

“All of them?” you ask.

He winces. “If there were women …”

“Can’t we help them?” You know you can’t, but you wish there was something you could do.

“Stay on the path next time,” he growls. “No more wanderin’ ‘round … ma’am.”

“Mr. Morgan …,” you try, but he’s already trudging back toward the horses.

You spend the rest of the day in silence, riding next to each other but avoiding each other’s gazes. You shouldn’t have called out to him; it was obvious what had happened in that camp. They were a group, and you’re just two people … your father couldn’t have known about the dangers of this journey, or he wouldn’t have made you go. He would’ve found another way. At least that’s what you’re telling yourself. Because you don’t want to even consider the other option and what it would mean. When the sun slowly disappears behind the mountains around you, dread settles onto your heart, the heavy kind you haven’t felt since you were a little girl, afraid of the dark.

Finally, Mr. Morgan stops his horse. “We camp here tonight. No fire.”

“It’s so dark,” you whisper.

“The darkness ain’t what’ll kill you,” he growls.

You can’t sleep; of course not. So you watch him all night, sitting up straight next to you, not so close that you could touch him, but close enough so you’ll always see he’s there. He doesn’t sleep either but he sits very still, keeping his eyes on the path, making sure nothing evil comes out of the dark. And you wish all you had to worry about were mountain lions.

*******

Two days later, Mr. Morgan’s face is pale and you’re frozen through. You haven’t had a warm meal since you found that destroyed camp, and Mr. Morgan has barely slept. You haven’t talked at all, apart from the necessities. And still you haven’t left those mountains and woods behind you. At least the daylight makes you feel less afraid.

“Is it far still?” you ask when the silence becomes unbearable.

“A week,” he answers, looking up at the sky, “if it doesn’t snow.”

The weather is the least of your worries. “And how long before we’re past the mountains?” You hate them now as much as they awed you at first.

“Three days maybe.”

Three more days without warm food. You straighten your back. “Have you come this way before?”

“Yes.”

“Has anything ever happened to you?” You don’t know if you’d prefer confirmation or denial.

“You’re safe with me, so don’t you worry about that.” There’s something in the way he says it that makes your grip tighten on the reins.

“I’m not worried,” you lie. “Just curious.”

“Hm,” he makes before going back to observing the surroundings with caution. “Bad people are everywhere. Not just here.”

“That’s a grim way to look at the world.” You try for a teasing tone, but it sounds like you’re reprimanding him instead.

“You ain’t seen much of it then,” he replies.

“More than you know.”

He looks at you curiously, just for a moment. “You –” he starts, but a shout ahead on the path interrupts him.

“Hey!”

You almost jump out of your skin and stop your horse reflexively. That’s your first mistake. The second one is to shout, “Arthur!” Because it costs him valuable seconds, that distraction. He turns around to look at you, and then suddenly two men are on him, pulling him out of the saddle. Two more appear next to you, a young, handsome one with a dark mustache and darker eyes, and a man your father’s age, but scrawny, with a mouth full of yellow teeth that he exposes to you in an ugly grin. You pull on the reins and your horse dances nervously, ears pressed tightly against its head. And then you hear a shot.

A fifth man stands in the middle of the path, a smoking gun held high over his head. His thick, gray beard quivers as he shouts, “Everybody stay calm and no one is gonna get hurt!”

You look at Mr. Morgan for guidance and see him struggle against the two men who are restraining him by holding his arms tightly pressed against his back. His pants are dirty from where he hit the ground when they pulled him off his horse.

“Get her down from there,” the man with the gray beard barks, and before you can do anything, thin but strong fingers have closed around your arm and you tumble out of the saddle with a shout.

The man who is holding you stinks of rotting things and nicotine. He twists one of your arms until it is pressed flush against your back and uses his other hand to hold your chin, so you’re forced to look straight ahead at the man with the mustache.

“Pretty little thing, ain’t she?” he snarls, and the other man licks his lips.

“We just want your valuables,” Graybeard says to Mr. Morgan.

“We ain’t got any,” he growls.

“I’m sure you don’t,” is the calm answer as Graybeard starts going through the saddlebags of Mr. Morgan’s horse.

You roll your shoulders but the man with the rotting teeth only tightens his hold on you. His companion takes a few careful steps toward you. A lump is forming in your throat as you begin to realize just how dangerous this situation is. You try to kick back, like a horse, but you miss your captor. It only earns you a cruel laugh and a pinch to your cheek.

Somewhere to your right, you hear a dull thud and a pained groan coming from Mr. Morgan. You try to look at him, but you can’t move, not because you’re being restrained but because fear has taken over your body and you can’t do anything but relinquish control.

“Check her horse,” Graybeard orders, but the man with the mustache doesn’t move. He’s only a few steps away from you now, his eyes hungrily roaming over your body. “Now!” Graybeard barks.

“There isn’t -,” you start, but the man who is restraining you clamps a hand over your mouth. You could vomit when you taste his skin.

“There’s this,” the man with the mustache says, holding up a cheap necklace your mother gave you as a parting gift.

“Take it,” Graybeard orders.

“What about her?” the rotting man asks and shakes you.

“Her too,” Graybeard answers with a nod. “Shoot the man.”

“No!” you shout, even though it makes the disgusting man get more of his fingers in between your lips.

The man with the mustache stuffs your mother’s necklace into the pocket of his jacket, then walks over to you. You can hear the blood rushing in your ears as he grips your skirt and begins to pull it upward so your boots and then your drawers are slowly exposed. A hot tear rolls down your cheek but it only makes him smile.

“I bet you’re lovely.” His voice is deep, almost as deep as Mr. Morgan’s, but hearing him speak only fills you with revulsion. “I bet you’re all tight …” He lightly strokes your cheek, then uses his free hand to unbutton his trousers.

“No!” you shout again, but it’s muffled, and your feeble attempts to free yourself are met with an evil snicker.

Then you hear a shot and all the life goes out of your body. It’s done. You’re alone now. And if you’re lucky, you’ll soon be dead too. Two more shots ring through the forest, each one as painful as if you’ve been hit by the bullets yourself. The man with the mustache doesn’t even flinch. His trousers hang open now, and you can see dark hairs peek out from between the fabric, before he cups one of your breasts hard and licks a broad stripe up your neck.

The other man moans, low, wetly, and it’s the most disgusting sound you’ve ever heard. He lets go of you, but it’s too late; you can’t run anymore. A wet, dull sound is followed by another moan, and you know exactly what he’s doing. You’ve heard people talk about it, even though you don’t quite know what it means when a man touches himself. All you know is that you feel bile rise at the thought of it.

The man with the mustache freezes and looks behind you, his eyes wide with shock. Maybe they have a different bargain, maybe he wants to keep you for himself and feels threatened. But then, so fast he’s only a blur, Mr. Morgan rushes past you, grabs the man by his collar, and pulls him off you, landing a punch against his jaw. You blink a few times as both men go down, not sure if what you’re seeing is real or if it’s a vision your panicked brain conjured up to calm you. The man with the mustache lands a kick between Mr. Morgan’s legs, gaining the upper hand. He pulls a knife from his boot while he straddles your companion to pin him down, but Mr. Morgan doesn’t hesitate. He grabs the man’s arm and bites down until he lets go of the knife. You catch a glimpse of Mr. Morgan’s eyes and where you expected him to be all feral rage, he’s cold and calculating. It sends a shiver down your spine and you stumble back a few paces until you step into something soft that squelches on impact. You don’t have to look down to know what it is.

Despite the loss of his knife, the man with the mustache is putting up a good fight. He lands a blow in Mr. Morgan’s face, then scrambles off him, grabs the knife, and pushes himself upward. Mr. Morgan moves faster than you’ve ever seen him move, jumping up while dodging the glinting blade of the knife.

“Stay down, big boy,” the man sneers.

Mr. Morgan shoves into him with such force the knife ends up in the dirt again, right next to the two men. But this time, Mr. Morgan has the upper hand, landing blow after blow in the face of the other, grunting with grim satisfaction when he draws blood, continuing even when the man retches up blood and spits it in Mr. Morgan’s face. He doesn’t stop until the man doesn’t move anymore and his face is nothing more than a bloody pulp, entirely unrecognizable. Only then does he grunt in pain and rolls off his opponent, lying on the forest floor, breathing labored and hard.

*******

You make camp that night as far away from that spot as you could travel before the light faded. Mr. Morgan gets a fire going while you sit on a log, trying to hide your trembling hands in your lap. You haven’t cried yet but you know it’s coming. He hasn’t said anything yet, and you’re not sure he will.

In the flickering light of the fire, you can see the cuts and bruises in his face, the sleeve of his shirt drenched in blood. And when you close your eyes, you can see the five dead men, their broken bodies left in the dirt for scavengers to feed on. He did that, all on his own.

You force yourself to stand up and walk over to him. He’s not the man who calmed you down after a mountain lion attack anymore; you’ve seen him beat a man to death today with his bare hands. No, he’s someone new now, someone you have to get to know first. And when you crouch down next to him, he looks at you with dark eyes like he’s never looked at you before and you feel all the air being pressed out of you.

“Let me take a look at your arm,” you say, pulling it toward you by his hand. The dried blood on his knuckles is rough against your skin.

He doesn’t protest, just watches as you carefully roll up his sleeve to expose a deep cut, undoubtedly left by the knife. It must have happened so fast you missed it. Even though it’s not bleeding as much as it used to, each pump of Mr. Morgan’ heart pushes some more blood out through the cut.

“You need stitches,” you tell him.

Before you can second-guess what you’re doing or change your mind, you’re next to your saddlebag, looking for the sewing kit your bother gave you. Only you’ve never used it for something like this before. You don’t even know if it’ll work, only ever having read about it in books, but it’s better than doing nothing. You also grab the bottle of whiskey from Mr. Morgan’s bag.

“Drink this,” you order, handing it to him once you’re next to him again.

He takes one big swallow, then another one, his throat working to get the liquid down. You pretend not to notice. Then he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand while you stare at the cut with much more focus than necessary. Taking back the bottle, you pour some of its content on the cut, drawing a low groan from Mr. Morgan that heats up your cheeks.

Your hands are shaking as you try to thread the needle. “Have you ever done this before?” Mr. Morgan asks, his face stoic as if he’s ready to accept his fate no matter the answer you give him.

“Technically, no,” you answer, finally pushing the thread through the eye.

“Huh,” he grunts.

“But I’m very good at mending stockings.” You offer him a feeble smile and he nods. “This might hurt a little bit,” you warn before pushing the needle through his skin. Holding his arm in place with your other hand, you can feel his muscles flex at the intrusion, and a short burst of breath tickles the top of your head. He doesn’t complain.

“Have you ever been stitched up before?” you ask him to distract him.

“No,” he replies through gritted teeth.

“Oh, good. Then you have to believe me when I tell you I’m doing a very good job.” What’s wrong with you?

He grunts again, but maybe, possibly that sound could be hiding a laugh.

“Still, when we arrive at our destination, you should have a doctor look at this,” you instruct.

“Eager to hear from a professional how good of a job you did?”

Your cheeks ignite and you drop the needle. “Shit.” He is laughing now, a low chuckle, as you try to locate a glint in the flickering light from the campfire. Luckily, you don’t have to look far – the needle fell straight down and is lying between Mr. Morgan’s boots. You wipe strands of hair from your face, then wipe the needle clean on your dress before getting back to work.

“No,” you answer his question, forcing your voice to sound steady. “Because I have no idea how to prevent an infection. Or if I’m even doing this correctly.”

Mr. Morgan leans down, his big hand closing around the bottle you discarded earlier, and he unscrews the cap with his thumb and forefinger. “Looks to me like you’re doin’ fine.” A big swig, then another one.

You glance up at him just to see his face looking unusually pale. “Does it hurt a lot?” you ask carefully.

“I’ve had worse,” he answers, but flinches when one of your stitches comes too close to the wound.

You blink fast a couple of times, trying to shake the image of him on top of that man, punching and punching until no trace of life was left. The memory of the sheer brutality makes your hands feel clammy. No, this wasn’t his first time getting hurt, just like it wasn’t his first time killing someone. And now the same hands rest peacefully in his lap, cut and bruised, yes, but a far cry from the deadly weapons you saw today.

“Thank you for what you did today,” finishing up with two final stitches, then quickly add, “There,” and pet his arm before he can acknowledge your words of gratitude.

He lifts his hand from his leg and flexes his fingers. “Thanks for this,” he replies, examining the stitches.

Your gaze lands on his knuckles that are covered in blood, his own and that of the men he killed. “Do you want me to take a look at your hands?” you ask, your throat tight all of a sudden.

“I’m used to that.” He stretches out one of his legs so it rests next to you, close enough that you feel the ghost of a presence next to your hip.

“I’ve never met a man who was used to so much violence.” Your eyes are still on his hands, bruised darkly.

“It was either them or us.” He shrugs.

Us. “I was sure they had killed you when I heard that first gunshot,” you tell him, lowering your gaze to your own hands that have some dirt on them, some streaks of Mr. Morgan’s blood, but that look so clean compared to his.

“And break the contract with your father?”

You laugh. “A father who selected this route knowing full well about the dangers we would face?” The silence that follows your question is filled only by the crackle of the campfire and by the sounds of creatures moving through the woods. “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you,” you finally say.

“This ain’t the first time I had to save someone,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“And how did those other people repay you?” you ask, eager for his answer. Being indebted to him puts you on edge.

“Money,” is his short reply.

“I don’t have any,” you say, feeling a tug at your heartstrings. But maybe that doesn’t matter; maybe when you arrive, you could talk to your fiancé. He’ll want to reward the man who defended your honor and saved you from a horrible fate. Still, you wish there was something you could be doing for him right now. “There’s also other ways,” you say, very slowly.

“Hm,” he makes, a sound that has started to fill you with a certain warmth for reasons you can’t quite explain. Then he shifts, moves his legs a little further apart. And you’re there right between them, looking up into his face that betrays nothing except for the smallest glint in his eyes.

You’ve never even kissed a man, but you’re not stupid. You know what certain gestures and movements mean. You’ve watched your father’s hands when a woman walked past them, you’ve attended dances where everyone around you was getting drunk … growing up on a farm, you’ve seen things. But you also know that those things are wrong and they should only be happening between husband and wife behind closed doors, no matter what everyone else is doing.

It's getting harder to breathe, and you feel a tug low in your stomach, almost like an ache. You’ve never felt anything like this before and you can’t quite place it, but the way he looks at you, mouth slightly opened, his eyes deep and dark, only fuels that sensation. And when you think back to this afternoon, it becomes so strong it makes you shift on your knees.

“You’re a pretty little thing.”

It’s the second time today someone has said that about you. Whereas the first time made your skin crawl, the second time makes your cheeks heat up and your breath get stuck in your throat. You notice that Mr. Morgan unbuckles his belt, eyes locked to yours, and you make sure your gaze stays on his face. It’s only when he groans and his eyelids flutter shut that you look down and see he has his hand wrapped around himself, moving it up and down his length with sure strokes. Something in you is released at that sight.

“Here, let me,” you offer, shuffling closer on your knees until you’re trapped between his legs.

Before you can think better of it, you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock. It’s warmer than you expected, feels heavier than you thought when you move your hand up in the same move you saw him use. He groans again, louder this time, and removes his hand, resting it on your arm. You tremble.

Back home, you were taught that what a wife does in the bedroom is fulfilling the duty to her husband. It sounded neither pleasant nor enjoyable, and so far, you’ve managed to push the thoughts of what is awaiting you at your destination from your mind. But your mother couldn’t have meant this, because this doesn’t feel like duty at all. You stroke the tip of his cock with your thumb, he tightens the grip on your arm in return, and you feel a surge of pride well up. No, your mother couldn’t have been talking about this.

Eager to try more, you twist your wrist on the downstroke, then lower your head and kiss the tip of his cock. He growls this time, and his hand lands on the back of your head, pushing you down. You have no choice but to open your mouth further and take him in. The weight of him presses down against your tongue, the tip of him brushing the back of your throat makes you gag as tears shoot to your eyes. He grips your hair, pulls you off, then pushes you back down again, and you got it. It’s not so different from the hand.

Steadying him at the base with a tight grip, you pull off him again, but let your tongue run along the underside, the sharp taste of him filling every corner of your mouth. It will take some getting used to, but you’re determined to get this right, and from the way his hand trembles at the back of your head, you have a feeling you might be.

You close your eyes, focusing on taking him as deeply inside as possible because he seems to enjoy that. Sometimes, when you think there isn’t any room left, he pushes you onto his cock that little bit further and then groans contently, a sound that tightens parts of your body you didn’t know could tighten. You run your tongue over the tip of him, hum around him when your mouth is full of him, just to find out what kind of sounds you can draw from him. If this is what it’s like, you can’t imagine why anyone would call this a duty.

Mr. Morgan stiffens and pushes his hips upward so you take even more of him into your mouth. This time you can’t help the gagging sound pushing past him. But instead of forcing you to take more, he grips a handful of your hair and pulls you off. Your mouth feels strangely empty for a moment, even though his taste lingers, and you blink in confusion. Was that it?

You lick your lips and look up at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something. But he’s quiet, only placing his forefinger under your chin to tilt your head back a little more. For some reason, that gesture leaves you breathless. And you know why a second later when his lips lock onto yours and your breaths mingle, and you suddenly understand why people would kill for this. Why he killed for you.

You can’t help the moan that comes out of your mouth, don’t even realize at first that the sound is coming from you. His hand glides to the back of your head to grip you and hold you in place, and you push yourself toward him, one hand on his arm, the other on his thigh. He licks into your mouth and you try to mirror him, feeling a strange sense of pride when he opens up for you.

He pulls away, holding you in place by the hair at the nape of your neck. “Did you like havin’ me in your mouth?” he asks and his voice is so low you barely recognize it.

“Yes, Mr. Morgan,” you answer, and you also almost don’t recognize your own.

“Oh, you’re somethin’,” he says with a wicked smile, then stands and pulls you with him.

Your legs are trembling and your knees threaten to give way when he kisses you again, pressing his entire body to yours. Just when you think you could spend eternity like this, he closes his arms around your backside and lifts you up, so you don’t have any chance but to sling your legs around his middle. You squeal against his lips, but he just carries you past the campfire toward your bedroll. Beneath your palms, you can feel the muscles in his shoulders and arms flex and tighten with each step. Something in your stomach flutters as you remember he's strong enough to beat a man to death.

Before you know what you’re doing, you’re kissing his jaw and neck, biting down on a tendon that’s jutting out with the effort of keeping you in his arms. When he rumbles deep in his chest, you flick out your tongue to lick across the spot in apology, but he drops you to your feet. You both stand there for a second, looking at each other with heaving chests. His hands come up to grip the neckline of your dress, and he pulls, a tearing sound echoing through the trees. Your torn dress crumbles to the ground around you, exposing your undergarments, and even though your first instinct is to cover up you don’t because he pulls his shirt over his head to expose his naked chest beneath, and that sight is enough to distract you from any embarrassment you might be feeling.

His pants are next, and then he stands before you stark naked. You try to touch his stomach with a trembling hand, but he grabs your wrist and pushes you down to the ground. With precise movements, he pulls off your drawers, taking your shoes with them, then tears open your corset to expose your breasts. Your breath hitches when he cups one in his calloused hand and squeezes, making pleasure spike through your body.

You kiss him again, lean into his touch, and then you discover you can make him tighten his hold on you by licking over his bottom lip. You can make him press his hard length against you by moaning in pleasure. It feels so, so good to have this effect on him, to be able to do that to him without words. Never, in a million years, would you have expected that giving yourself to a man would feel like this, would make heat blossom at the base of your spine, would make you ache between your legs. You shove your fingers into his hair, deepening the kiss, and he sighs against your lips, a sound that makes your knees weak. How can all of this make you feel so good yet fill you with a hunger you don’t know how to satiate?

You run your nails over his scalp, testing to see what other sounds you can elicit from him, when he suddenly shifts both your bodies, pushing you to the ground while caging you in with his body. Your heart hammers in your chest so hard it’s almost painful, but even when your back is uncomfortably pressed against your thin bedroll, you still crane your neck to keep kissing him. God, why can’t you get enough of him?

With a sharp slap against your knee that sends another spike of pleasure through your body, he pushes your legs apart, then draws back to look at you. His lips are red and swollen, and both shadow and light are dancing across his face in quick succession. You reach up to touch his cheek, but he catches your wrist and pins it down next to your head with so much strength it steals the breath from your lungs.

“You’re the prettiest little lady I’ve ever seen,” he mumbles.

You feel your face heat up, but he doesn’t notice how flustered you are. With his free hand, he grabs himself, then lines himself up between your legs. You watch, eyes wide, breathing so fast your head is starting to swim. What comes next is a pressure that is not painful but not quite pleasurable either. And the more it pushes, the more it hurts.

“Stop,” you say, your voice not more than a whisper.

Either he doesn’t hear you or he’s ignoring you, but he continues to push up into you, and now it’s so painful you’ve lost all sense of pleasure entirely.

“Stop,” you try again, bracing your hands against his shoulders, trying to push him off you. He’s too strong for you. “Arthur, stop!” you bellow.

And he hears you. He immediately withdraws, and you scramble to sit up, pulling away from him as best as possible on the small bedroll.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, and the concern in his voice makes you look at him.

“Yes,” you answer, hugging your knees to your chest. You wish you weren’t so naked.

“Have you ever …?” He doesn’t need to finish the question for you to know what he means.

You shake your head.

A deep, red flush creeps up his chest and neck. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I didn’t know. I wouldn’t –”

“It’s alright,” you interrupt him, his apology embarrassing rather than harming you. “You didn’t know.”

“The way you were kissin’ me …” He trails off again.

Your ears prick up at the compliment. “It all felt … good,” you stutter. “More than good. It’s just …”

“I can … we can slow down,” he offers. “If you still want …”

You look at him, kneeling before you, his skin glowing orange in the light from the fire. His dick is slowly softening between his legs, goosebumps are covering his arms, but he is showing you all of himself without shame. That bold display of his body makes your blood heat up again, but you hesitate. Touching his naked skin is one thing, giving yourself to him entirely is something you’ve been warned of your entire life. And yet … now that you’ve pushed through the initial shock, you slowly realize your body is demanding to feel him again.

You nod. “Yes. I still … I want you.”

Your cheeks are fever-hot, but the way his eyes light up is worth the embarrassment you feel. Arthur moves toward you, loosening the hold you have on yourself, and you relax, dropping your knees, letting him come even closer. He smirks, his eyes darting to your lips and then back up again before he leans in for a searing kiss, and it feels like the last few minutes didn’t happen at all. Without breaking the kiss, he reaches for your wrist, then slowly guides your hand between your own legs, while you tremble in anticipation. He doesn’t touch you, but when he presses your own fingers against all that heat and wetness, you moan deeply.

Arthur breaks the kiss first. “I want you to play with yourself,” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear.

“I don’t …,” you start, suddenly unsure.

“Yeah, I know.” He kisses your neck. “You’re gonna figure it out though.”

You take a deep breath and nod, and when he captures your lips for another kiss, you move your fingers over yourself in a motion that makes pleasure shoot through your entire body. A shaky pant escapes you and lands on his mouth, turning his lips into a smirk even while he’s kissing you.

“There you go,” he whispers.

You find a rhythm and pace that makes you feel like you’re about to explode but that doesn’t light the final fuse, and he continues to kiss you for a while before drawing back to watch the hand between your thighs. Any shame you could have felt is replaced by pure lust when you see the arousal in his eyes; you shift to open your legs further, and he raises his eyes in surprise. You shift under his searing gaze and moan when you notice his hand closing around the base of his cock.

You’ve never felt like you’re feeling right now, completely in control but also like you’re surrendering yourself to him. It’s so addictive it makes you wonder how people don’t want to feel like this all the time. “It feels so good,” you groan, struggling to get the words out because your teeth are clenched.

“You’re so pretty,” is Arthur’s answer as he moves his hand up and down his length.

You can’t help but believe him. “I love you strong you are,” you return the compliment, and before you can think better of it, you raise your free hand and cup your breast, squeezing your nipple.

His eyes lock onto your chest. “Fuck.” Pleasure shoots through you from the tip of your toes to the top of your head. “You’re such a good girl,” he adds, and it makes your heart flutter so painfully you feel like it’s about to fly out of your chest.

“Say that again,” you demand, not recognizing yourself at all.

Arthur shifts closer until he’s right between your legs, fisting himself eagerly. You can smell the sweat and arousal on him, a scent so overpowering you wish you could bury your nose in his skin and inhale it forever. “My pretty, brave girl,” he says, and when you lower your gaze, too overwhelmed by what his words make you feel, he grips your chin and lifts your head. “Oh no, you’re gonna look at me.” You blink once but don’t lower your head again. “Yeah, that’s it.” He smirks. “Look at you … so eager to please me. You should see yourself right now … goddamn prettiest woman I’ve ever seen.”

You do lower your gaze then because it feels like too much. Your eyes land on his cock, on the tip that’s glistening wetly, and you lick your lips, remembering the feeling of him in your mouth.

“You want me inside of you, don’t you?” Arthur asks, and you nod. His rough, calloused hand closes around your throat and you can’t help it – you move your own hand faster, a crescendo building in the pit of your stomach. “Use your words, pretty girl. I know you can.”

You swallow hard, knowing he can feel your throat move against his grip. “Yes, I want you inside of me.” Your face doesn’t heat up this time as you realize you’re not only saying that to please him. It’s exactly what you want.

He rewards you with a deep kiss, then mumbles against your lips. “Are you ready?”

You hesitate. “I’m not …”

But Arthur doesn’t let you finish. “Let’s find out together.” He leans back. “Finger yourself.” The way his eyes darken when he says it isn’t lost on you.

You shift and move your hand lower, his eyes fixed to your movements. He has stopped moving, his hand grabbing his cock, holding it between his legs. You feel yourself flutter against your fingers in anticipation at the same time as he licks his lips. And then you push the tip of your finger inside of you, past the initial resistance, deeper and deeper until you can’t go any further.

“Breathe,” he instructs and you exhale sharply. “Did that hurt?”

You shake your head before remembering he likes to hear your voice. “No.”

“How does it feel?” he wants to know.

Carefully, you pull your finger out until only the tip remains inside of you, then you push it back in. “Good,” you manage. “Really good.”

“You’re sweet when you can barely talk,” he says with a smirk and the muscles inside you clamp down on your finger. You moan and close your eyes, unable to keep them open. “You like that, don’t you?” You hear him shift closer. “You like hearing my voice. Bet you’d like me to talk you through it, too.”

Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you feel something building inside you. It’s like a wave that will drown everything out. You lean back further and further until your back connects to the ground, until you can raise your hips to meet your finger, trying to get it as deep inside you as possible.

Then his hand is covering yours and he pushes you to the ground, stilling you. When you open your eyes, you’re met with his, dark with lust, and you’re rewarded with the sight of his chest, flushed so deeply red it looks almost purple. His cock is leaking onto his fingers. “Not yet, sweet girl,” he says in a voice that sounds familiar to the one he uses to calm down his horse. “You’re doing so well, but wait until …”

Arthur removes his hand from yours, but then you feel the tip of his finger right where yours is disappearing inside yourself. You steel yourself for the pain you’re about to feel, but when his finger joins yours, stretching you open, all you feel is pleasure so intense it makes it hard for you to stay conscious.

“Fuck,” you groan, a short outburst, almost like a bark.

“You can say that again.” Arthur’s voice is so husky it’s almost impossible to understand. He cups your hand with his, and then moves the both of you in tandem, pulling back out and pushing back in. You tentatively meet his thrusts by rolling your hips and he growls. “Look at you, spread open just for me.”

You don’t know why his words make you feel like they do, but the muscles between your legs are working hard to keep both your fingers buried as deeply as possible. That earns you a smirk from him and you smile back in return.

“I think you’re ready.” He grips your hand tightly and pulls the both of you out, making you sob. To calm you, he cups your cheek and presses a soft kiss to your lips. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna fill you right back up again.” All you can do is nod.

He positions himself above you, stroking himself a few times, then lining himself up. It’s easier for you to relax this time because you know what to expect, but when he breaches that resisting wall of muscles, you still feel a burn and hiss.

“Shhhh,” he makes and kisses your forehead. “You’re doing so good.”

And then he’s inside of you, stretching you open as much as you can take. His eyes flutter shut and he groans, shifting to adjust himself. “You feel perfect.”

“You’re … you’re big,” you manage, drawing a chuckle from him.

He shifts again, then pulls back out before slamming back into you, making you see stars. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” he apologizes immediately.

“No,” you press out through gritted teeth. “Do that again.”

He does, and you grip his arm, burying your nails in his muscle, slinging your other arm around his back. There’s a strange taste in your mouth and you only slowly realize it’s blood from biting down on your bottom lip. He kisses you, licks over the wound, pulls a sharp moan from you. And then he slams into you so hard you scream, clawing at his skin, leaving bloody streaks down his arm and back. The pain only seems to spur him on and when you pant, “Harder,” he doesn’t hesitate.

You clench around his cock in return and he whispers, “I like you like this.” You feel yourself clench again and he groans. “You’re perfect,” he repeats. You kiss his neck, then bite it, until he pushes you back down. “I bet you’ve never had an orgasm before, have you?” You shake your head and he mimics that motion, tapping your bottom lip with his thumb. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“No,” you manage to say, your voice hoarse.

He rocks into you, not as hard and fast as before, but it makes you pant helplessly nonetheless. “Yeah, I thought so,” he mumbles more to himself than to you.

“Please,” you whisper.

He smirks down at you, then shifts his knees ever so slightly to change the angle. Suddenly, he’s brushing against something deep inside of you that makes a sob erupt from deep in your chest.

“Do you even know what you’re asking for?” he teases, but there is a strain in his voice now, as if he’s struggling to hold onto something.

“Please,” you repeat louder, unable to fully grasp the meaning of his question.

Arthur’s thumb is back on your lip and then he pushes it inside your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the tip eagerly, then suck on it, grazing your teeth over his skin. His breathing turns ragged, and the warmth of pride erupts in your chest. With a wet sound, he pulls his thumb out from between your lips and pushes his hand between your bodies until it comes to rest on that small spot you were toying with earlier. You howl and twitch and your whole body erupts. You spill over, you lose sense of where and who you are, you’re shaken by forces beyond your control. All the while, Arthur pounds into you, strokes you inside and out, and you think you hear him say, “That’s it, just let go. You’re so fucking beautiful – just let go.”

As soon as you feel like you can breathe again, he pulls out of you, leaving you aching and empty and cold. Through hooded eyes, you watch as he moves his hand up and down his cock fast until he spills all over his hand and the edge of your bedroll, gaze not directed downwards, but staring at you with insatiable hunger in his eyes. And you return that gaze just as hungrily, wondering what it would feel like to taste his release on your tongue.

Arthur stands unsteadily and retrieves his coat from the other side of the campfire. You feel the cold of the night now and hug your knees to your chest, still trying to make sense of the world. “Now, no more of that,” he says when he gets back, draping his coat over you, the weight of it making your limbs grow soft. He lies down next to you, pressing his front to your back, one arm possessively slung over your chest, the other shoved under your head for you to use as a pillow.

*******

The morning sun is warm on your face as you ride through a slowly thinning forest. The plains and your destination cannot be far from here. Your thoughts are though; they’re still somewhere behind you, stuck at a campfire, busy chasing the feeling of the man next to you between your legs.

When you reach a fork in the path, you stop your horse and look off to your right, back into the forest and the mountains. “What’s back there?” you ask.

Arthur stops his horse next to yours and looks down the path. “Never been over that way,” he answers.

“Do you want to find out?” Your voice is firm, but you don’t look at Arthur.

He’s quiet at first. “Your father –”

“– already paid you,” you finish the sentence.

Arthur nods. “Alright,” he says, then looks back at the path you just put behind you, then off to your right again. “Let’s find out what’s over there.”

***

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[woso-dreamzzz]

Firsts III

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You lose your first tooth

The day you lose your first tooth, is the day that Momma kicks you in the face with a ball.

It's still morning. You'd spent the first half of your day at school doing Maths and German before Morsa came to pick you up. She takes you home to have lunch because she and Momma have afternoon training today.

She's actually cooking for lunch today. When you spend the whole day at school, she gives you a packed lunch with all of your favourite snack foods and some things to swap with the kids at your school. At the weekends, you don't really eat a lot until dinner so having a cooked lunch is special.

You can see here through the kitchen window as Momma chips the ball over your head.

You huff. "Momma! Stop it! I can't get it if you do that!"

"You can't save every shot, princesse," Momma reminds you like she always does when she does something like this.

You roll your eyes. "I'm only little, Momma," You say," We're only practicing." You roll the ball back to her.

Momma smiles. "Sorry, princesse. I'll make sure you can get this one."

Usually, you would be able to get it. Pernille knows the moment her foot strikes it that she's hit it too hard, hit it hard like she's at practice and is actually shooting against a professional keeper.

It's fast too and smacks you in the face before you can raise your hands to catch it. The force of it tips you back and you land on the ground with a thud.

Immediately, you burst into tears.

Pernille tries to scoop you up but you squirm away from her even as she tries to dab the blood from your mouth.

You spit

A glob of blood appears in your hand along with a tooth.

You look at it in shock. You look at Momma.

"Morsa!" You yell, running inside.

Morsa's standing over the stove, stirring a pot of boiling water and pasta. "Hmm? What is it? Have you two broken the goalposts again?"

Your goal at home wasn't a proper goal. It was made of plastic tube things that had to be slotted together. Sometimes, when you dived for the ball, you hit the posts and they got loose.

You shake your head.

"Look!"

Morsa turns to look at you before her eyebrows shoot up in shock.

There's dirt on your face and your lips are red with a little bit of blood.

"What happened to you?!"

"Momma kicked the ball at me," You whine, stamping your feet," My tooth's gone!" You hold up the glob of blood to show your tooth but Morsa seems too preoccupied with looking at your gums.

One of your canines is missing and there's a bit more blood than there should be if the tooth had just fallen out naturally.

"That looks like it hurt," Morsa says.

You nod miserably.

"Let's get something cold on that."

When it's time to leave for training you're still a little tearful and you're mourning the loss of your tooth as you stick your tongue into the sensitive bit of gum it left.

Pernille feels horrible and you absolutely refuse to let her even touch you. You stick close to Magda, who shows you and your little mouth gap off to the rest of the Bayern girls.

"You don't look happy," Georgia says as she sits next to Pernille and laces up her boots," Aren't parents meant to be super happy after their kid's teeth fall out or something?"

"It didn't fall out by itself," Pernille admits," I kicked a football at her face."

"Seriously?"

"Yep."

"And it knocked it straight out?"

"She bled a lot," Pernille said," And it's a little achy. She's sad."

"Well, once the tooth fairy comes, she'll be happy again."

"What's the tooth fair?"

Georgia jumps when you suddenly appear in front of them. She can see the gap in your teeth as you talk and, as Pernille said, you do seem a little sad.

You're standing in front of them but give no indication that you even know Pernille's there.

"Well..." Georgia says," It's a little fairy that collects teeth?"

"But why?"

"Er...Because she likes them?"

Your brow furrows and you cover your mouth with your hand. "Is she going to take all of my teeth?"

"No, princesse," Pernille says. Your eyes flick to her for a moment before settling on the floor," You put the tooth you lost under your pillow and she'll take it while you're sleeping."

"She'll leave money too!" Georgia says helpfully and that makes you lift your gaze, to check with Pernille that what Georgia's saying is true.

She nods. She doesn't exactly want to agree with this but at this point, anything to get you to forget that she's the reason that you've lost your tooth in the first place.

"And I put my tooth under my pillow and she comes to get it?"

"Yes."

"And she gives me money?"

"Yes."

You think for a moment, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet before you reach out for Pernille's hand. You yawn.

"I'm tired, Momma," You say," Can we go home now?"

Momma laughs. "Nice try, Princesse but we've still got a few more hours of training left."

You whine and groan the entire training session and it's a struggle to stop you from putting yourself to bed as soon as you get home.

You still end up going to bed earlier than usual but Pernille waits hours until she knows you're actually asleep to slip in.

"Don't give her too much," Magda says as she sits up in bed and reads through her book.

"I won't," Pernille lies.

You look adorably sweet and soft when she slips into your bedroom. Your mouth is slightly open and your face is squished against girl-moose as you cradle girl-swan close to your chest.

Pernille swaps your tooth with some money.

"All done?" Magda asks.

Pernille nods.

Magda was in for a rude awakening when you came running in the next day at dawn.

"Momma! Morsa! The tooth fairy left me ten euros!"