#i will never find peace on this site i feel like

[tomgregs]

i unfollwed like 2,000 people and i still follow 2,000 people

[charliemwrites]

Part 5 of Mister(s) Steal Your Girl

Long awaited, but no Johnny smut just yet. Soon, I promise. (And Kyle will be back. It's been so long since he's gotten to smooch our dear reader.)

Also! A little reminder than you can check the queue to see what I plan to post for next. I try to update it often as the worms wiggle. Next I plan to do the final chapter of Greater Bad. (Unless I get my not-so-secret, no-longer-a-surprise oneshot out first)

Lastly! Please note that I wrote the "posts" from his perspective. So inconsistencies with the actual story and any grammar/spelling errors were purposeful or for "authenticity".

Content: Brandon.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ I asked my fiancé for an open relationship before marriage. It worked. A while ago I posted on r/adultery about the affairs (yes, multiple) I was having behind my then-gf’s back. We’d already been dating for ~4 years and I was seeing one of my coworkers (my “work wife”) regularly and one of her coworkers on and off. People on my other post were critical and called me all sorts of things like selfish and pig. I know it’s not traditional, but I genuinely don’t think I could ever be satisfied by one woman. My work wife (Rachel) and fiance’s coworker (Lucy) provide things my fiancé just can’t but I still love my fiancé. She’s the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. When I posted on r/adultery I was trying to figure out how to propose without her finding out. I knew she’d expect me to help with stuff and possibly want to look at my phone more often. It would have been harder to sneak off to meet up with Lucy or Rachel with wedding planning and I was sick of being stressed she would find out. Some nicer people on the post suggested I ask for an open relationship. I took their advice and sat her down to sell the idea. It’s a good thing I’m so good at sales (top 3% in my company for 5 years in a row) because she agreed. Yes, actually agreed. At first she got kind of pale and her eyes got really big and blank. I thought for sure she was about to start crying and run off. Maybe even kick me out. She doesn’t really get angry but she gets upset and it freaks me out. After I explained everything about how good it would be for us though, she agreed. This is my official unlimited hallpass. I’ve been seeing Rachel on weekends and Lucy once or twice during the week for drinks. Tonight I’m going to sign up for every dating site I can. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge. If anyone has other suggestions, I’ll check those out too. Fiance has been kind of off but I think it’s just an adjustment period. Sometimes I can tell she’s been crying but she hasn’t come to me about it so she’s probably just being emotional about all the changes. At least she’s got our house to focus on while she gets used to things. I feel a little bad about running out every night but she’s just so mopey and sad all the time and it’s not enjoyable to be around. I know she probably feels like I’m abandoning her a little but once she starts getting back to normal I’ll spend time with her again. You really can have your cake (all the cakes heh) and eat them too. Edit: no, I never told her that I already had Lucy and Rachel and I’m not going to. What good would it do? She’s already agreed to an open relationship and telling her that I didn’t have permission first would just hurt her for no reason.

Kyle’s been gone for two (long, lonely) weeks when he finally gets a chance to call. So far, he’s only been able to send scattered texts at odd hours. Always something sweet – telling you he’s alright, or that he’s thinking of you. Sometimes you even catch him for a brief exchange before he apologizes and “goes dark” again.

Not that you begrudge it. This is part and parcel of dating him and you knew that going in. You’re not complaining when he’s putting his life on the line so that the public can live in blissful peace.

That doesn’t stop you from missing him though. His hugs, his smile. Getting his voice - even roughened by distance - is a nice compromise though.

“How have you been holding up, chickadee?” he asks after the initial reassurance that he’s whole and hale. 

“Easier this time!” you answer proudly. “I know what to expect with you gone and Johnny’s good company.”

“Yeah?” he asks, sounding pleased.

You can just imagine him now, leaning his hip against the nearest surface, arms crossed over his broad chest. He tends to duck his head when he smiles, and you unintentionally grin to yourself, thinking of him hiding into his phone. God, you miss him. 

“Mhmm! We found a board game bar that you’re going to love. Oh, and we’re going to the Hay Festival this weekend.”

He hums. “I’m sorry I can’t be there to take you, luv, but I knew Johnny would be good to you.”

More than good to you, really. There’s not been a day he doesn’t call to check up on you - if he doesn’t see you in person, that is. Dinner, movies, coffee. He’s somehow both a gentleman and an incorrigible flirt, but only with you. He’s nothing more than polite to anyone else, keeping his focus on you and whatever the two of you are doing.

You don’t know what to do with the undivided attention. If you didn’t know better…

“You two are getting close,” Kyle observes.

“I think so,” you admit, then hesitate. “Is… that okay?”

“‘Course, luv. I’m glad.”

You blink. “You are?”

“He’s my best mate and you’re my best girl.”

An odd pang of anxiety pierces your chest. Johnny calls you that too. His “best girl.” You love hearing it - but maybe you shouldn’t?

“It… doesn’t bother you? That we’re spending so much time together.”

He snorts softly, but it’s not derisive. It’s a noise he makes whenever he thinks you’re being silly, but his voice comes out soft and warm. Not an ounce of condescension.

“No, baby, I’m not fussed. You spend your time with whoever you want, however you want. Yeah?”

Your chest floods with warmth. “Okay.”

“There’s a love. I’ve got a brief, so I have to go. I’ll call soon as I can.”

“Be safe, Ky.”

“Do my best. Give Soap a smooch for us, aye?”

You blink as he hangs up. That’s a new one.

You ponder over it while packing on Thursday night. Was it just a joke? A tease at the little crush you’ve developed for Johnny?

Because it is a crush, you know it is. It’s impossible not to be attracted to him. Not with that smile, that laugh, the goofy humor and sweet mannerisms. He still sends you flowers every few weeks - just as the previous ones are about to die. It’s so thoughtful; you’ve started feeling a bit warm every time you look at them.

But you feel greedy, being even remotely interested in anyone else. You have Kyle and Brandon (even if you two are going through a… patch) and that should be enough for you. Shouldn’t it? You’ve never been with more than one person at a time before; it took you weeks to shake the compulsory guilt when you first met Kyle. It feels almost unforgivably audacious to want Johnny too, especially since he’s Kyle’s best mate.

Still… Kyle’s not a jealous or passive-aggressive guy. You’ve been with him long enough now that you know he’d just tell you outright if he was unhappy about something. And he’s been with you long enough that he can surely tell you’re more than a bit fond of Johnny.

Maybe that’s why he made the joke about “smooching” him.

Regardless, you want to talk to him about it. Things always make sense when you think out loud to him. His levelheaded and practical approach to difficult topics always straightens your panic spirals out into neat lines.

Plus, it’s not as comforting to hold your own hand. (God, when is he getting back?)

“Where are you going?”

You blink up at Brandon, folded pajamas in hand.

“The Hay Festival,” you answer.

Speaking of - you slip past him into the bathroom. He doesn’t follow, rooted to the spot spinning his phone around in his hands.

“Alone?”

You snort. “Of course not, I’m going with a friend.”

The allergy pills are at the bottom of the medicine basket beneath the sink. You really need to organize it the next time Johnny’s too busy to hang out. There’s no way you need three bottles of paracetamol. 

“I need that suitcase.”

You toss the bottle in and pivot for the dresser. “What for?”

He shifts, eyes sliding away. “An… overnight.”

Ah. That’s what he’s calling it now?

You snatch a few (too many) pairs of underwear from the dresser.

“Just bring them here,” you say over your shoulder.

There’s a long, tense beat of silence but you’re too busy rummaging for socks to break it first. Will it be too warm for thigh-highs? Eh, you’ll go with the sheer ones; the little lace roses match one of your dresses anyway.

“Bring who here?” Brandon asks slowly.

When you turn, he looks paler than usual. You shrug, trying to project casual comfort.

This is a totally normal and reasonable conversation to have. Just a couple in an open relationship, discussing a stranger coming to the house for a shag. Nothing to make a fuss over.

“Whoever you need the suitcase for? I know you’ve had people over before anyway, and I’ll be gone all weekend.”

He stutters, color returning to his face in bright pink blooms. “Why do you think I’ve had people over before?”

You arch an eyebrow. “I do the laundry, remember? And there was lipstick on one of the wine glasses.”

That had sent you into a tizzy at the time, disgusted that some stranger was in your bed, with your fiancé. You washed the sheets twice on the hottest setting and tossed in a bit of bleach for good measure. Hadn’t been able to look at him the whole week - not that he was there much to not look at.

Now, though, you seem to have adjusted to the idea, even if you’re still not thrilled. Brandon can have his… whoever over, and you’ll goof around with Johnny in Wales.

“Just toss the bedding in the wash afterwards,” you add.

“I thought you do the laundry,” he sniffs.

“I’m not traveling all day just to do chores when I get home,” you answer. He does a double take like you’ve started speaking a new language. “You’ll be here all weekend, I’m sure you’ll have time.”

He opens his mouth, and you can tell already that he’s about to argue - though you don’t really know what about. It’s not like he can’t do laundry or dishes, after all. He lived alone before you moved in together.

Thankfully, his phone distracts him before he can form the words. He spins away to tap at the screen and shuffles out of the room, shoulders till tense. You go back to packing and teasing Johnny about the amount of hair gel he’ll bring.

Friday afternoon can’t come fast enough. Even though you’ve taken a half day from work, the few hours seem to drag. You’re practically daydreaming about the food and drinks, music and activities. There’s a baker’s dozen art stalls you want to check out as well, and a gift to pick out for Kyle…

“Hope yer thinkin’ o’ me when ye make tha’ face.”

Your head snaps around so fast, you nearly give yourself whiplash. Johnny grins down at you in all his casually handsome glory – ripped jeans, green tee, and brown boots. Angels are singing somewhere, you think. Or maybe that’s just your nosy coworkers ogling from their own cubicles.

The reality of him sinks in a moment later and you leap up from your cushy chair – and right into his arms. He’s like a furnace compared to the cool, conditioned air of your office, a welcome source of warmth for your chilly fingers.

“What are you doing here?” you giggle. “Who let a rowdy guy like you in?”

He smells like bergamot and pine. It takes active thought to resist pressing your face into the crook of his neck. It looks cozy there.

As always, he squeezes you a bit tighter just before letting go.

“Hey now, Marcy’s a discerning lady. She knows a fine gentleman when she sees one.”

You snort, belied by the smile curling your lips. “She may need new glass then.”

“Och, don’t go talkin’ poor about my second-best gal now.”

“Is it that easy to get in your good graces?” you scoff, glancing at the time on your computer. It’s later than you expected; no wonder he came up to retrieve you. You spent so long daydreaming that you’ve lost track of time.

“Aw don’ be green, dove, you’re still my number one. Send ye flowers ‘n all.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, and now I’m wondering just how special that is.”

He stands close, proclaiming his case for how obviously special you are while you shut everything down for the weekend. You’re only half listening to the bit, admittedly. Mostly just basking in your excitement for the mini road trip and the weekend to come. You have no doubt that it’s going to be fun, even if it would be better with Kyle along too.

“Where are you headed off to?” Lucy asks.

“Hay Festival,” you answer shortly.

You’ve never been a big fan of Lucy, but lately she’s been insufferable. Talking over you during meetings, leaving you out of emails, throwing away papers at the printer. (Okay, you haven’t seen her do that last one, but you know.) Worst of all, she can help but make backhanded comments about every flower delivery.

“You’re not taking Brandon?” she simpers. “Something wrong?”

“He’s hanging out with a friend this weekend too,” you correct, “and he doesn’t like hay.”

“Shame that,” Johnny adds, sounding like it’s not a shame at all.

You haven’t told him much about Brandon – but you’re sure that Kyle has. From the face Johnny makes the rare times your fiancé comes up in conversation, he doesn’t think much of Brandon.

“Have fun you two!” your manager, Selene, calls.

You wave and shoot Lucy one last, unimpressed glance before stepping onto the elevator with Johnny.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ My fiancé is going on a weekend getaway with another man. I’ve posted in r/adultery and r/cakeeater before. I’m not looking for judgement or insults here. I really just want advice.

A little context: my fiancé and I are in an open relationship and it’s been like this for a few months now. I originally asked her to ope the relationship and for a while she was weird about it but lately she’s been getting sbetter. I thought she was finally getting used to me going out with other women and things were getting back to normal.

A few weeks ago, I noticed she was on her phone more. Like, all the time. Even at dinner when she used to be really picky about phones at the table. One day I came home from work and she was talking on the phone to someone. Giggling and laughing. When I turned the corner she was kind of blushing too. It kind of bothered me but I figured she was talking to a friend and just hot from cooking or something.

Lucy texted me pissed off one day, asking why I was sending my fiancé flowers but not her. I told her I hadn’t sent any flowers. I think they’re way too expensive for how long they realistically last and that they take up a lot of unnecessary space. But I thought it was weird that someone was sending my fiancé flowers and got kind of uncomfortable. That’s a pretty romantic gesture and her family isn’t the type to randomly send flowers either.

I tried taking her out on a date but she was all mopey again and turned her phone to ‘do not disturb’ so I wouldn’t even see if she was texting someone. We don’t have much to talk about now. I love her but she’s not a good storyteller or into very interesting things. All her ‘funny stories’ are just mundane things that happen during the day. We’ve run out of interesting topics about because we’ve been together so long. (That’s why I like having more than one partner.)

Yesterday she randomly started packing for a trip. I don’t even think she was planning to tell me until I asked her. She was packing a bunch of cute clothes too. Like dresses and tights and things like that. Stuff she only used to wear on our dates. I asked who she was going with and she just said ‘a friend’ which is weird because she would usually say the name of someone even if I don’t remember who they are.

Well today Lucy sent me a picture of my fiancé leaving her job with some guy. I couldn’t see his face because he was turned away, but I could see the side of my fiancé’s face and she was smiling at him. I got this awful sinking feeling in my chest like it was hard to breathe. It took me a few minutes to process that she’s going away for a weekend with a complete stranger.

Doesn’t she know how dangerous that is? Where did she even meet this guy? They’ll be gone all weekend so are they sharing a room? A bed? I nearly threw up thinking all these things as I called her.

I asked her to cancel her plans and come home. She seemed confused and reminded me that her plans were with someone else and it would be rude to ditch last minute. I told her I wanted to spend the weekend with her and that I’d been missing her. She seemed surprised and said that she’d see me on Sunday night, but she was looking forward to the festival with her ‘friend’ and wanted to go. As a last ditch effort I asked if her friend was more important than me, nearly begging at that point. She must have heard the desperation in my voice, but she just told me that she was already on the road and it was too late.

My fiancé doesn’t like lying but it’s hard to believe this guy was just a friend. Even if she sees him as a friend I know how men think and I doubt he sees her the same way.

She said some other weird stuff before she left about having someone over while she was gone. I don’t get it. How could she just casually invite someone else into our house like that? Has she had other people over? Is she dating now?

I’m not sure what to do. I don’t like that she put this trip over me. Should I talk to her about how bad this makes me feel? Should I call again and tell her to come home more forcefully? Am I blowing all of this out of proportion?

Edit: she doesn’t know that I’ve been seeing Lucy. I haven’t told my fiancé about any of the women I’ve been seeing. (mostly just Lucy and Rachel. I’ve done a lot of texting through apps and gone on a bunch of first place, but most women don’t put out right away and I usually can’t be bothered to get to know them better). Even then, I wouldn’t tell her about lucy. They don’t get along and never have. It would cause a lot of unnecessary drama.

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[dixonsbrat]

could you write some fluff abt swimming with corio in the lake??

𖥔 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𖥔

summary ; you and coriolanus decide to visit the lake.

pairing ; coriolanus snow x fem!reader

notes ; nothing that i can think of, some kissing and a lot of fluff , spoilers for tbosas !

do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.

with each breath, the worries and burdens of living in the districts seemed to melt away, replaced by a sense of peace that settled deep within your soul. the warm air filled your lungs as you inhaled deeply, both invigorating and calming at the same time. there was nothing quite like the peaceful embrace you felt walking through the woods, offering you solace in its own unique way, letting you feel its energy. 

the clearing was bathed in a bright glow, sunlight filtering through the gaps in the high trees that surrounded, while birds chirped their melodious tunes in the background. they were all that could be heard, other than the low trickles of water from the lake, and the crunching of leaves beneath your lover’s feet as he finally met your side. 

you turned towards him, your heart filling with anticipation and excitement as he closed the distance between you. the affectionate smile on his face mirrored the feelings coursing through your own veins.

“it’s so beautiful out here,” you hum, taking in another deep breath and letting your senses fill with that of the earth.

coriolanus wraps his arm around your shoulder, a sense of warmth and comfort. his closeness brings a small smile to your face, and you rest your head against his side as he breathes a soft “yeah.”

your heart flutters as his gaze locks with yours, drawing you in like a magnet. as the sunlight illuminates his features, casting a heavenly glow upon his face, you find yourself captivated by his radiant presence. his eyes, like vibrant gems, sparkle with a warmth that touches your very soul. 

you could get lost in them – in him – forever. 

scrunching your nose up at him, you give a playful push and head towards the start of the dock, dropping your bag packed with necessities for the day as you do. he follows in your footsteps, kicking off his boots and removing his socks swiftly, all while keeping his eyes fully trained on you. 

there was a boyish grin on his face, something you didn’t see often, but when you did, it filled you with the most unruly butterflies. it made you wish you could see it more, while breaking your heart a little bit at the same time that you didn’t. 

you waste no time in removing your own items of clothing and letting them fall to the ground in a messy pile, leaving coriolanus as you wait in the middle of the wooden path for him to meet your side once more. 

standing there, you can’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for these stolen moments of bliss. in a world that often felt overwhelming and suffocating, being able to share these memories with him feels like a precious gift.

you remember the countless secret rendezvous, the stolen glances while he was on duty, and the hidden touches that were filled with a mixture of excitement and fear. your love, forbidden by the laws of the capitol, had never felt so important. the mountains in the distance stand tall and proud, reminding you that there is so much more to this world than just constraints and limitations. the open field beyond the water stretches out endlessly, just like the endless possibilities that awaited. it was humbling to remember just how small you really were in the world. 

yet, at the same time, as coriolanus meets you again, his arms reaching to wrap around your chest, you can’t help but feel like you were right where you were meant to be. 

with that thought in mind, you take his hand, intertwining your fingers together, and let him take the lead the rest of the way, until your toes hang over the edge of the dock. he looks down at you, that same boyish grin still present, and gives you a wink before the two of you jump off the ledge.

as you hit the cool water, you feel exhilarated, a wave of freedom washing over you. the splashes and ripples create a symphony of sound that echoes in your ears, and as you resurface, you’re immediately greeted by coriolanus’ beaming smile. 

in the midst of the shimmering waves, you catch each other’s gaze and laughter bubbles up from within you both as you playfully splash water at one another. there’s a shared child-like joy that comes out of the friendly competition, but ultimately coryo is the one to give in, raising his arms up to surrender. 

your laughter fades away with the wind, leaving you both in a comfortable silence. a silence that doesn’t need to be filled, nor do you want it to be. the two of you meet in the middle, your legs guiding you to wrap about his waist, as his hand meets the side of your face. 

you lean into the touch, and despite the cool water, you can still feel the warmth of his palm against your skin. his fingers gently stroke your cheek, tracing invisible patterns, and his touch lingers for a moment, filled with tenderness. you close your eyes, wanting to savour the intimacy of it. “you know,” he murmurs, his voice filled with a mixture of affection and what you could only pinpoint to be mischief, “i never expected to find someone like you in my life.”

you open your eyes to meet his gaze, a soft smile playing on your lips. “i feel the same way,” you admit. “i never could have imagined that i’d fall for someone like you, and yet here we are.”

coriolanus' gaze grows tender as his eyes bore into you now. “we may be different, but that’s what makes us so perfect for each other.”

a surge of emotions courses through you like a tidal wave and your lips finally meet. the sensations that had built up inside now overflow, causing you to release all inhibitions. the kiss becomes a catalyst for the intense feelings you were harbouring for the boy before you. 

his hand gently grazes the back of your neck and shivers rolls down your spine. the kiss deepens, filled with desire, longing, a reassuring promise that no one could ever break you apart. 

reluctantly, you have to pull away, the need for oxygen playing an undeniable factor. you don’t move far, your foreheads lingering together as your chests heave, and you catch your breaths. you smile, your heart racing, as you reach out to brush your fingers against his cheek now. you both stay in the water for a while longer, enjoying each other’s company and the tranquillity of the lake. 

there was an enigmatic force that kept pulling you together, and you may not know what the future held or where life in panem would take you both, but one thing you knew for sure was that coriolanus was yours, and you were his. 

[olderthannetfic]

I'm gonna be very honest the desire to actively participate in any fandoms was thoroughly beaten out of me over the past few years.

It seems like people just became meaner and more hostile, and it for sure didn't happen overnight, but it did intensify in the last few years for sure.

The LoreFM debuckle was just the nail in the coffin for me, in the sense that yeah people don't care about the fandom anymore as they used to, and I guess I have to let go of the notion that the inherent feeling of fandom as a community will ever come back.

I tried doing the whole "find 5 freaks you like and just do your thing with them" thing, but only got burned and the only way I participate now is just quietly posting my fics on AO3 and just that.

And while it gave me a peace of mind from "the discourse" it also is very lonely a lot of the times.

--

An understandable feeling!

I do think, though, that fandom=community was always a mirage. It was certainly true for individual pockets of community at various times—and, indeed, is true for pockets of community today—but it was never universal.

Back at the greatest heights of LJ community, there were plenty of randos doing other things in the fanfic space. We just didn't see them, partly because many of us were avoiding FFN and partly because there are just always many different flavors of fandom on different sites.

Between the pandemic and the downward spiral of many social media sites, a lot of people are meaner, more anxious, and operating under a mentality of scarcity lately. But that's different from "fandom" as a whole having been one thing and now being another.

[finniestoncrane]

Sniper x Fem!Reader, word count: 700 basically, there's a piece of art i saw by lukewarmflukes (which i can't find the original of on a reputable site) of sniper fucking his fleshlight and saying "please, please, please" and that thought has not left my mind for almost a month so have this so i can be FREE of that particular demon and it's very self-indulgent because i want him to want a big girl thanks, reader doesn't really feature but is reference to❤️ request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: masturbation, fantasising, begging, whining

It was almost ritualistic, the way he waited until the dead of night, happy to lose some sleep for the sake of having an undisturbed moment of pleasure. A fair trade, he reasoned. Peace, quiet, isolation, all affording him the experience of feeling a release he was always so desperate for.

But despite it being a routine, there was always the little surge of excitement when he reached under his bed and produced his stealthily purchased toy, removing the fleshlight from it's box and giving it a quick, hazardous wipe down before setting it down on the desk.

Then there were the pillows, a necessity if he was going to be able to indulge in the fantasy, to pretend you were there with him, available for him to use for his own filthy needs. One on either side, the felshlight propped between them, kept still as he pushed the pillows together. He'd never touched you, he wished he had, but he imagined this was as close as he could get to recreating a synthetic you. The pillows could be your thick thighs, your plump rear, your stomach, your breasts, whatever big, soft part of you he wanted to grab at as he fucked what he pretended was your wet, waiting cunt.

A quick squirt of lube, his large hands stroking down the length of his throbbing cock as he spread it around, slicking himself up, ready to enter the soft, textured insides of the toy. Not as good as the real thing would be, he imagined, as he slipped the tip in with a sharp inhale. But it was good enough until he could work out how to actually have you.

With precision, cool, calm and collected as always, he rolled his hips into a steady pace, letting the walls of the toy cling to his cock, stroking it as he began to fuck it.

He was well beyond his hands now. That fantasy had served him long enough. His fingers circling round his length, palm pressed hard to the shaft, pumping his fist and pretending it was you. Imagining you beside him, whispering sweet and kind words into his ear as you delighted in masturbating him, feeling his cock throbbing against your hand as you coaxed an orgasm from him.

It worked, for the longest time. But he needed more. Something different.

Actually, what he needed was you. The toy was the next best thing.

How kind would you be to him? How welcoming? He pictured you, teasing him at first, your legs pressed together as you hid your arousal from him. He lost focus for a moment, knocking himself off balance as he imagined you spreading them apart, opening yourself up to him, pulling at the collar of his shirt to bring him closer to you.

Would he stretch you a little? Would you be the perfect fit together? Would you whine and moan for him, like he was now, the realisation of which had him suddenly quieten so as not to arouse suspicion from anyone who happened to be passing his room.

As he withdrew his cock slowly, inserting it again as his eyes rolled back, he let his thumb fall over the black casing onto the synthetic skin, tapping it against the simulated clitoris. If he had you right there, laying in front of him, his cock buried deep inside of you, he'd still relish in making you scream, or giggle, or whatever sound you might make if he paid any attention to that sensitive bud.

There was a soft thud as he gripped one of the pillows with his free hand, the other still clutching the toy, holding it against the desk as he became more frantic in his movements. His hips no longer rolled gracefully, he was rutting, fucking with abandon, closing in on his orgasm.

The veins along his length throbbed, balls tensing as he felt his orgasm approaching. Maybe the real you wouldn't be as into the idea of him filling you up, but he could pretend.

"Please... please... please..."

A long groan pushed over his parted lips, wavering as he shuddered in ecstasy, unbalanced swaying as he felt his release filling the toy, coating his own head with his cum.

Maybe you were dirty enough to let him paint your insides. He'd find out eventually.

[shadybiotics]

P e n t u p e m o t i o n s

× pairing: venture x reader

× words: 1700

× content: fem!reader, afab!venture, nsfw, one sided pining, venture is a little pent up lol,,, masturbation, this is mostly smut

× summary: The Wayfinders have recently taken in a new practitioner assistant under their wing, and never before has Venture bottled their emotions more.

[ A/N ] : i need venture desperate and needy but like,,, in a pathetic and embarrassing way, enjoy

It was late. The day was about to end and the dig site has become awfully quiet as everyone was already in bed.

Sloane laid on their back in their tent, arm under their head. It was silent and peaceful. Its been a long day at the dig site, they were exhausted and yet they couldn't fall asleep. As they tossed and turned trying to get some shuteye, their thoughts repeatedly trailed back to a certain someone. To you.

Its been two and a half months already since you joined the Wayfinders but Venture warmed up to you in no time. You showed genuine interest in what they were doing and always tried your best.

You were still only a practitioner assistant so you didn't exactly do much yet. You were mainly there to watch, take notes and learn but not wanting to be completely idle you kept offering your help in various ways. Venture remembered your eagerness fondly, how you kept saying that 'its no big deal' and how you can 'do it on your own'. It was cute, they thought. Thinking back on it brought a tender smile to their face. They sighed.

There was one instance where some crates and boxes needed moving. Venture took a break from their own work and was about to get to it, before your hands suddenly clasped the edges of the crate as you leaned over it. "I got it" you said with confidence.

You didn't really look like someone who had a lot of experience with heavy lifting, not to Venture you didn't at least. They feared they would feel guilty if they let you lift these boxes all on your own, before their eyes started drifting that is. As you leaned over the crate your top hung loosely, giving them a comfortable peek at your chest from where they stood. Venture ogled with their brows slightly raised. The idea of letting you do it instead didn't seem so bad anymore.

"Uh sure, go ahead" Venture complied running their hand through their sweat damped hair, you grinned. With a huff you leaned down further, your top drooping even lower, unknowingly to you, and showing more of your breasts. Even the lace of your bra now clearly visible. Venture just stood there frozen and staring, their eyes watched intensely when your arms squeezed your chest together as you lifted the wooden box with yet another huff. Their wide eyes met yours as you smiled and walked away, visibly struggling but not giving up. Their cheeks rapidly darkened as they finally caught themselves staring. Damn.

Remembering these moments made their head swoon all over again, their breath getting heavier with each passing moment.

Frustrated, with one hand they reached up and rubbed their face, trying to rub those fantasies out of their mind. Their attempt pointless. With a tense face and brows tightly knit their hand slithered down, down... down slowly, soon reaching the waistband of their pants. Their eyes relaxed closed. Without thought and with a smooth flick of a finger Sloane undid one button. And then another.

There was also another time, when you and Venture sat closely arm to arm. Notepad and pen in your hand as Venture expressively explained the proper way to restore different items and trinkets that you would inevitably, hopefully, find. How to tell their age, how to look out for signs of damage or decay, and how to then handle such fragile findings.

You listened carefully as you noted their advice, asking a few questions here and there. You were so focused on your note taking that you didn't even realize how you pursed your lips slightly to the side or how cute you looked when you swooped loose hair strands away from your face.

"God...", Venture cursed themselves. They wished you knew what you were doing to them. They wished you knew how adorable and alluring you were, how you always managed to make their day ten times better with your witty words and honest smile. They sighed. That smile... and those lips... "...This is just awful".

Ventures hand kept going lower.

They imagined how it would feel to bite your lip, to lightly trace their teeth on your neck. They imagined themselves finally getting to roughly tug that damn top of yours down and fully seeing what was underneath. Their large calloused hands hungrily feeling your body, grabbing and squeezing anywhere, everywhere...

Before Venture knew it, their hand was down their trousers. Thick fingers slowly but firmly traced continuous small circles. Their heartbeat quickened. Sloane licked their lips before they let out a shaky breath they weren't aware they were holding.

They wondered if you liked getting your hair pulled, hell, they would love to give it a try. Their large hands wrapping themselves in your lovely hair and tugging at your scalp, lightly at first, hoping to hear some delicious sounds leave your mouth as you arched into them. Pushing you further and further, seeing how much you can take. How rough they could get before you couldn't take any more.

Venture was almost panting now.

They have become so pent up over these few weeks and they needed this badly. They needed you badly and they hates how you weren't the one touching them right now. They despised how all they had to rely on right now to release some of these frustrations was their own hand.

More flustered now, their other hand gripped the bedding of their tent tightly, the knot inside growing tighter rapidly.

They wanted to know how to work you right. They wanted to learn the curves of your body, learn how to please you. They wanted to please you.

Their hips involuntarily bucked into their hand again and again, breathy moans and grunts leaving their lips as they thought about bending and stretching you to their will, shoving their fingers in your mouth... down your slit. Would you lick them? Maybe suck on them? Or bite them playfully, they wondered. Their fingers worked faster now, harder.

"Ah... ah..." Sloane moaned louder now. They sucked in a breath through gritted teeth as they imagined your hands playing with their body. How lovely your hands would feel as they slowly traced Sloanes jaw, then neck, then chest. Clawing there just enough to leave light marks where your nails previously scratched.

They were so close now. Muscles beginning to spasm. Head tossing and turning.

God, they would love to be marked by you. Just the thought of you leaving little scars on their flushed skin as you grind onto their fingers -no their strap -no their mouth, they couldn't even decide. Mind all too fuzzy.

Grunts and groans escaped their mouth when they thought of how pretty your eyes would look when looking down at them as they ate you out. Your eyes glossy with tears from overstimulation as they made you see stars over and over, lapping you up with their skilled tongue. Your thighs bruised from their secure grip as their tongue flicked your clit with precision.

Fuck. Even when you did little to nothing you drove them crazy. A memory of you sitting on one of the crates you just got done moving flashed before Sloanes eyes. Your shirt uncomfortably sticky with sweat, your chest heaving in exhaustion, lips slightly parted and a bead of sweat rolling down your forehead. A book in your hand used to fan yourself.

Venture wished they could get you to such a state. Make you sweat. Make you feel exhausted. Be the cause of your chest rising and falling rapidly.

Venture was so close now. Their fingers were getting sloppier and the rhythm of their hips shaky. They were almost there. They chocked out a repressed moan and hissed in pleasure, their hand circling even faster. They were about to-

" Pssst... "

A whisper ripped through the thin fabric of Ventures tent unannounced and jarringly yanked Sloane out of their sweet, sweet trance. In a panic, followed by cold sweat and a heaving chest, they hastily jolted up. Eyes wide darting everywhere trying to find the source of the sound.

"Vent- Sloane?" You corrected yourself "You sound like you're in pain... are you alright?" you questioned with a soft tone, your voice quiet and clearly concerned.

The realization of what was happening suddenly dawned on them.

Completely lost in their fantasies, Sloane was being way too loud for their own safety. Were they so loud that they have accidentally awoken you?! Or did you just happen to walk by?? Possibly on a late night walk and overheard them as you passed by?!? Their mind panicked even more as it came down from the previous high.

Their face quickly darkened in embarrassment before they tried coughing up some explanation. But still in shock, they couldn't think of anything.

Thankfully you didn't seem to get the right idea of what was really going on here.

"Y-y-yeah. . . yeah im fine" They replied shakily, still out of breath.

"Are you sure you aren't hurt? Do you want me to look you over?" Venture eyes widened as they heard you take a step closer to their tent, now horrified you might pull the zipper next and have to see them in this humiliating state. Their mind was screaming at them. They waved their hands frantically in front of them, as if that was going to be of any help to stop you from moving any closer.

"Nonono! Im sooooo good! I just uh..." they paused thinking "I scraped my arm on.. something, earlier! Today! Im tooootally coolio though!" they chuckled. Nervousness clear as day in their voice.

There was a moment of silence, an awfully tense and uncomfortable silence.

Venture could almost choke on their heartbeat because of how hard their heart was pounding in their throat.

"Alright then, if you say so, good night Sloane" you replied warmly as your footsteps slowly grew more distant.

When your footsteps could no longer be heard Venture flopped back down onto their back and groaned, scolding themselves mentally as one arm covered their face. If they could they would scream right about now.

Great... this is just... great.

[tasteleeknow]

HELLO STRANGER. PART FIVE.

PAIRING: minho ft. hyunjin x fem!reader GENRE: smut, angst, fluff, soulmate!au. enemies to lovers. jealousy. pining. unrequited love. WORD COUNT: 5.4k

masterlist and taglist ♡ pt.1 | pt.6

do not repost to other sites, including translations.

You came. You came to the thought of Minho wrapped around you and… inside you. Minho. The same Minho who tossed what remained of your self esteem into the dirt and pressed it so deep into the earth you have no idea if you’ll ever find it again. 

It’s fine. 

You’d already accepted he was pretty, maybe the prettiest person you’d ever seen. But that was before. Before he’d called you an infection and made you feel so, so, small. It was easy to see past his pretty face after that. 

And then he’d been kind. Fucking sat with you through a storm and asked you if you were okay and told you not to cry. It’s not enough. It shouldn’t be enough. He has an unfair advantage. He was picked out for you. Soulmates. Soulmates. Soulmates.

You could cry. Or scream. 

You do neither. 

You crawl into bed and try to forget. He didn’t want you. 

You are alone. 

—

It’s like he knows. It’s some sort of cruel joke. A soulmate who can read your thoughts, your internal conflicts. He’s sitting at the table when you stumble out of the bathroom the next morning—a pile of fruit in front of him like a peace offering. 

“I made fruit salad,” he says, all soft and fucking irritatingly sweet, “if you’re hungry.” 

You freeze, completely and utterly fucked. 

“I’m fine.”

—

Avoiding him is a ridiculous, impossible task. You live with him. Still, you avoid him at breakfast, and—after a few failed attempts to avoid him in the pool—you stop going all together. Hyunjin had attempted to squeeze the truth from you. He couldn’t understand why you’d stop doing something you seemed to enjoy so much. Never in a million years were you going to confess that seeing Minho dripping wet and shirtless each morning was fucking with your head. Not after everything. You couldn’t give Hyunjin any hope. 

“You can tell me,” Hyunjin says as he taps the end of his pencil on the small coffee table. 

He’d been spending the afternoon drawing while you read. It’s a peaceful, quiet company. Or it has been before his nervous tapping had started.

“Tell you what?” 

The tapping doesn’t stop as he looks up at you from the floor. “Have you fought?” 

You frown, closing your book and dropping it onto the couch beside you. 

“No,” you reassure him. “I mean a small one but we made up. We’re fine.” 

His pencil stops. He places it down gently. “Then what is it?” he asks. “What’s wrong?”

I think I want to fuck my soulmate. The one who made it clear he does not want to fuck me. The one we live with. 

“What… makes you think something is wrong?”

He offers you a sad smile—a knowing smile. He always seems to know. How can you be surrounded by people who seem to know your thoughts and still feel so… adrift… alone.

He joins you on the couch, replacing your book with his fluffy socks as he curls up beside you. He’s warm. He radiates warmth, as always. “You’re avoiding him,” he says, like he’s pointing out the sky is blue or the grass is green—like it’s simply and utterly true. 

How do you deny a fact?

“We’re being civil.” 

He tucks his feet underneath you and leans back on the armrest, making himself comfortable. “So this was a mutual agreement? To distance yourselves from each other?”

“We didn’t wanna argue anymore.” 

Hyunjin says nothing in return. Just looks at you, like he’s caught you with your hand in the cookie jar and you’ve just tried to deny it. 

“What?” you blurt.

“He asked me this morning if he’d done anything to upset you.” 

A short laugh bursts from your lips. You can’t help it. “Upset me?” you question, struggling to wipe the laughter from your face. “He asked if he’s done anything to upset me?” 

“Recently,” Hyunjin clarifies. 

You turn to face him, grasping his calves in your hands to use as leverage as you rearrange yourself. “Jinnie,” you start. “We should go out.” 

His eyebrow twitches. “Out?” 

“Mina’s wife is having a party tomorrow, for her birthday. Come with me.” 

He pulls his legs from your grasp, tucking them to his chest. “You’re trying to distract me.” 

“I’m inviting you to come out with me. It’ll be fun.” You lead forward and rest your chin on his knees. “Please,” you plead, offering him a small smile. 

He looks to the hallway as the water cuts off. Minho has finished his post pool shower. “What about him?” he questions. 

You press your lips together to prevent ‘what about him?’ slipping out. It’d be easy to find a reason, an excuse to keep this just between you and Hyunjin. Mina invited him specifically because of his attendance at her wedding. You want to spend a night with Hyunjin alone. Quality time minus the beautiful, asshole soulmate. Instead, you sit back and—with a slight furrow of your brows—you mumble, “He can come if he wants.” 

Hyunjin laughs, falling forward over you—his face pressed into your shoulder. “Try not to look too happy about it,” he says around his lingering laughter. “He probably won’t come anyway.” 

You push him off you gently before tucking his hair behind his ear. “You’re annoyingly caring, you know that?” you say. 

“Thank you,” he says. 

—

Minho does say no. He’d rather stay in, he says. Fine with you. You and Hyunjin leave him sitting on the couch with one of the cats curled on his lap. 

His eyes drift down your bare legs on your way out. You wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t taken one last glance back at him. You don’t know how you feel about it. 

You find yourself at the bar before you’ve even attempted to locate Mina or her beautiful, rich wife/soulmate. Alcohol is nice. Alcohol and friends and loud distracting music. It’s not something you usually enjoy. In fact Mina had made it clear you weren’t obligated to come exactly because she knew you so well. It feels different now. It feels like it’s exactly what you need. 

Hyunjin gets dragged off by the birthday girl at some point in the night, when you’ve had more drinks than you probably should have and then attempted to take the edge off the inevitable hangover with a tall glass of water. Mina sits with you, her legs stretched out in front of her to touch yours—each of your backs pressed up against opposite walls in the empty hallway. 

“It has to be weird,” she says. “It has to be.” 

You take another messy sip of water, wetting your lips more than anything. Then you nod. 

“Has… anything happened?” she emphasises her point with a look up and down your body, her eyes lingering between your legs. 

You kick at one of her feet. “God, Mina.” you scoff. “No. Did I not make it clear? He fucking hates me.” 

“And… you hate him?” 

You nod. 

“You sure?” she questions. 

You attempt to chug some more water. Most of it ends up down your dress. “Yes,” you grumble as you wipe at your dress uselessly. “He’s an asshole. He’s maybe the biggest fucking asshole I've ever known.” 

Mina gives you a look. A really fucking annoying look. Like she knows. Would everyone stop thinking they fucking know. 

You pull yourself up on your feet, a little less steady and graceful than you’d prefer. But you make it upright. Mina joins you with only a little help—a clumsy tug to one of her arms. 

“You can hate someone and be attracted to them,” she says as you stand there in the middle of the hallway, cool water dripping down between your breasts. 

“I…I know.” 

She shoves your shoulder, almost sending you back into the wall. “I knew it!” she yells. “You’re fucking—”

You slam your hand over her mouth. “We are not. I am not. I got myself off and he happened to be… the face I was thinking of. That’s it. Okay?” 

She nods and mumbles something into your palm. You release her. 

“Are you okay?” she asks, swaying a little on her feet. It almost sobers you completely. 

You had no idea. 

“I can’t want him,” you say eventually. “I can’t.” 

She must see something in your face because you find yourself tugged into her arms. It’s nice. “What do you need?” she asks as she strokes your hair. 

“I don’t want… to want him.” 

She takes a small step back and takes your face between her palms, holding you in front of her like a mother about to give her child a serious life lesson. “I saw a very pretty man in a tight black shirt earlier,” she says. “Would you like me to get him for you?” 

You huff out a small breath of laughter. “No,” you say. “Thank you anyway.” 

“You sure? Maybe you’re just horny.” 

You sigh, taking her hands from your face gently. “He’s my soulmate, Mina. I’m… fighting an uphill battle.” 

“Or… you’re horny.” She raises her eyebrows and bats her eyelashes. “It might help.” 

“If it doesn’t?”

She takes your hand. “I’ll text you everyday reminding you how much of a prick your hot soulmate is.” 

“You’re a good friend.” 

She smiles. “Let me show you the pretty man in the black shirt.” 

—

It’s a mistake. 

From the moment he kisses you, it’s wrong. It’s a pair of lips and they’re warm and wet and attached to a very pretty man but… that’s it. It’s nothing. 

You must be fucked in the head. A masochist. You want pain and hurt and suffering. The pretty man in the black shirt had been nothing but kind and sweet and pretty. You don’t want him. 

Still, you don’t stop it until he’s cupping your tits in his large hands. You don’t know why. It’d be easier to keep going, to pretend this is what you want—to pretend the man you want touching you isn’t at home with a cat in his lap. It’s tears that finally signal to the man pressing you into the wall that this is a mistake. It’s embarrassing and awkward and Hyunjin asks no questions when you find him shortly afterwards and ask him meekly if you can go home now. 

It’s only when you’re tucked under your covers an hour later that you confess. Hyunjin crawls in beside you. He doesn’t ask. He just waits. 

“I tried to sleep with someone.” 

It’s too dark to see his reaction. You’re grateful. 

“It didn’t go well?” 

“No,” you whisper. 

“Why?”

“He wasn’t him.” 

He wraps himself around you, tugging your face into his chest. It can’t be more than a minute before the tears come. You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this—you wouldn’t make Hyunjin carry any of this anymore. It wasn’t fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not—

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t—I told him to sign up. I’m sorry.” 

You shove yourself backwards, pressing your hands onto his chest to keep distance between you. “What?”

“I forced him into this. You wouldn’t… be dealing with this—with him. I—”

“Stop. Please stop. You can’t… seriously be blaming… yourself right now? You can’t. That’s not what’s happening.” 

He’s quiet. 

“Jinnie,” you whisper between shaky breaths, “You’re breaking my heart.” 

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” 

“I don’t regret it,” you murmur into his chest. “I don’t. I’m so grateful you made him sign up for that stupid app. I found you. You’re so, so worth it.” 

He lets out a shaky breath as his arms wrap around you. 

—

“I’ll be down in a minute,” Minho says as Hyunjin waits at the door with his towel draped over his shoulder. 

Hyunjin nods and then he’s gone. A sense of foreboding falls over you before the door even closes behind him. You’re alone with Minho.

“Can we… talk for a second?” he says, confirming your fears. 

You place your spoon down slowly, contemplating just making a run for it. “Sure,” you say instead. 

He clears his throat as he takes a small step towards you. “I just… I wanted to check that I haven't done anything recently… to hurt you.” 

“Recently?” 

It’s a low blow and not as satisfying as it should be. His shoulders drop and you watch as his towel drags on the floor as his arms hang at his sides. “Yeah,” he says. 

“No.” 

“I thought… I thought we were… getting along. Or better at least.” 

You wish you weren’t having this conversation right now, with his shirt off and his arms out. God his fucking arms. 

“We are. I’ve… been dealing with some things. I’m sorry if I've been distant.” 

“Some things?” 

“Personal things.” 

None of your business things. You didn’t want me. 

He blinks. “Right. Yeah. I uh… I just thought maybe you’d prefer I didn’t come to the pool. I know you liked it.” 

He’s offering to stop, to leave the pool sessions with Hyunjin to you. It should be easy to agree to his offer. But you can’t avoid him forever. Exposure therapy, you tell yourself. The more you see him… exposed, the less you’ll care. You sigh.

“Would you… wait for me to change? I’ll come.” 

You can’t help noticing the way he perks up a little. “Yeah, yeah I’ll wait,” he says.

You find yourself alone in the shallow end, watching as Hyunjin guides Minho out into the deep. They’d made some progress in your absence. Minho could almost make it to the other end unaided. You've known how to swim for as long as you can remember. It’s instinctual now. It’s hard to imagine what’d it be like to be unable to swim; to not be able to keep yourself above the surface… to sink. 

You lift your feet off the bottom and tuck your knees to your chest, letting yourself sink down under the water. It’s quiet; dulled. Apart from the muted sounds of the others moving at the other end of the pool, there’s nothing. 

It feels like yesterday, when you’d found yourself alone in the waves—heavy storm clouds overhead. The smell of the ocean mixing with the freshness of the incoming storm. The small group on the beach looked so far away as you made your way out of the water, your arms wrapped around yourself to shield from the chill. It was the start, the first moment you’d felt it. It was dark and cold, the heavy weight in your chest. It existed to remind you that even when you were surrounded by people, you were alone. You’d managed to ignore it a little in recent years, with Mina around so much. But then you’d been abandoned, by your ex, by Mina, by Minho. 

You were unwanted. 

A hand wraps around your bicep and tugs, hard enough to hurt. 

“—fuck are you doing?” 

Minho’s voice is the first thing you hear when you surface. You gasp as you shove your hair from your face, only realising as the oxygen floods into your lungs how much they were burning. You blink as you catch your breath. Then his tone of voice sinks in along with his grip on your arm.

“What—”

“What are you doing?” he says again, cutting you off. 

Your brows furrow. “Let me go.” 

He blinks and then releases you. You watch as his eyes widen a little and then he’s taking a large step back until he’s pressed to the edge of the pool. You suck in a breath—to say what exactly, you aren’t sure.

“You alright?” Hyunjin says, interrupting you before you can find out. 

“I’m fine.” 

“You were under for a while. We thought—” 

“I’m fine,” you insist, suddenly embarrassed—by the situation but mostly by the self pitying thoughts you’d let yourself be consumed by. They couldn’t know, you knew they didn’t know but the embarrassment bubbles up nevertheless. 

Hyunjin stands there, a comforting hand on your shoulder, looking at you like he cares. 

Because he does. 

You weren’t alone. He’d suffered so much more than you ever had and here he was, warm and kind and caring. You paint a small smile on your face and step into his arms. “Sorry,” you mumble. “I… didn’t realise.”

“Just don’t forget to breathe,” he mumbles back. “Please.”

—

Mina had been diagnosed with Celiac Disease three years into your friendship. She couldn’t eat gluten ever again, she’d explained to you. No bread. No pasta. Your favourite ice cream was even off limits. They snuck that shit into everything you had both come to realise. Still, she stuck to it. Even when she was piss drunk on a night out she’d remember to ask the bartender exactly what was in each drink. The thing that amazed you the most was her ability to turn down cheesecake. It was your shared kryptonite. You’d both taken countless midnight trips to the convenience store just to satisfy your all consuming craving for cheesecake. She’d cried the day you’d both tentatively read the ingredients label only to discover the dooming words in bold print ‘Contains Wheat’. She never touched it again. 

You’re reminded now—as you sit quietly on the edge of the pool—what Mina had said when you’d asked her how she did it; how she managed to resist the cheesecake. “Because I have to,” she’d said. As simple as that. “It’s off limits. I’ve crossed it out as an option. I can’t eat cheesecake like I can jump out of a plane without a parachute. It’s not an option.” 

You watch as Minho stretches his arms above his head. Shirtless and wet. He shivers a little. You imagine if you were closer you might be able to see the warm droplets making a slow path down his skin and into the water. 

Then you blink. 

It seems to click after that. He’s there. He’s beautiful. He’s dangerous. He's convenience store cheesecake… and he’s jumping from a plane without a parachute. 

It makes it almost easy. 

You can spend more time with him this way. It seems to take him a little off guard at first. He’s almost awkward. Then he settles. It works so well you wish you could go back in time and slap yourself for not realising it sooner. Treat him like he’s anyone—no one. Not an option. 

You’re a genius. 

“How much further?” Minho asks as he steps around you and nudges you away from the curb with his shoulder. The first car in five minutes passes you both a few seconds later. It’s late. So late the streets are nearly empty. 

“If you ask me that again I’ll push you into traffic.” 

“Well ‘not much’ doesn’t mean anything. You said ‘not much’ half an hour ago.” 

“Don’t be dramatic.” 

“I’m not dramatic.” 

You huff out a short laugh. He grumbles something under his breath in response. 

“There!” you shout, pointing across the street. “I knew I hadn’t missed it.”

“Hey!” he calls after you as you take off across the empty road. 

It’s exactly as you’d seen it last, the small gap in the hedge. It was easy to miss. You had to be looking for it. Minho is a little out of breath as he joins you at the wall of foliage. He shoves the sleeves of his hoodie up to his elbows. You expect him to question you, to make a snarky comment about the wall of shrubbery you’d dragged him to in the very late hours of the night.

But he doesn’t. 

You’re both quiet as you catch your breath. You’re silently hoping everything is exactly as you’d seen it last. You haven’t been here in years, not since long before Mina had found her soulmate. It was Hyunjin you’d thought you’d be bringing here. Never Minho. But then, you’d never imagined yourself getting along as well as you had been over the past month. The suggestion to come here had slipped out of your mouth before you’d even taken a moment to think about it. 

You were both awake late. Both sitting around with not much to do. “Wanna go for a walk?” you’d asked. 

“Where?” 

“There’s a place nearby… I haven't been there in a long time. It’s nice.” 

“Alright,” he’d said. Simple as that. 

You step forward into the hedge, pushing the branches aside as you go. Minho reaches in behind you, holding a few back before they can snap back into you.

“It’s here.” 

His breath tickles your neck as he leans over you. “A door?”

“A door,” you confirm with a smile, eyes fixed on the large wooden arch in the stone wall. 

It’s a struggle to get it open. You both end up pushed up against it until finally, it gives. You manage to catch yourself as you stumble forward. Minho isn’t so lucky. He takes you down with him, falling into your back and sending you both crashing into the grass below. 

You’re just grateful he manages to avoid landing on top of you. He just misses, landing hard just beside you. It only takes a moment for you both to recover from the shock of it. Then you’re laughing. You roll onto your back, laughing up to the star-littered sky. 

“Did you bring me here to murder me?” Minho asks as he sits up. “Is that it?” 

You look up at him from your bed of grass. “There are much easier ways to kill you.” 

“You’ve thought about it have you?” 

You smile sweetly as you give him a small nod in reply. 

His eyes flick across your face as the corners of his lips curve up to mirror yours. “Why did you bring me here then?” 

It’s a good question. One you’re not sure how to answer. So you don’t. Instead you pull yourself to your feet and take in your surroundings. It’s just how you remember it, your garden. It’s as dense as a forest with a small path winding through the bushes of flowers and towering trees. It’s lit by soft yellow lights scattered through the shrubbery and along the path. It’s only because you’ve been here before that you know where the winding path leads. A large tree at the centre, with a swing hanging down from one of its thick branches. You have no idea who tends to it all. The whole garden is well-kept. You’re unaware of any other entry point. It’s not something you want to know. Magic is better when you don’t know its secrets. 

“Is this… someone’s garden?” Minho asks, standing beside you now. “Are we trespassing?” 

“Dunno,” you say with a shrug. “I’ve never seen anyone else here.” 

He takes a small step forward, seemingly in awe. You can’t help smiling a little at his reaction. It feels like yours, this garden. It only deserves awe. 

The smells are the best part. It’s different at night. The fresh midnight air mixed with the fragrance of the flowers. How can anything be wrong in the world when a place this soft exists? 

Minho is quiet as you both wander down the spiralling path. He’s tugged his sleeves back down and his hands hang by his sides. You can almost feel the warmth radiating from him as his fingers swing past yours. Yours are practically ice cold.

“Has Hyunjin been here?” Minho asks.

Hearing a voice almost feels wrong now. A disruption to the perfect serenity. 

“I’ve only ever been here with Mina.” 

The fresh breeze picks up for a moment, rustling through the leaves above you. “How’d you find it?” 

“Her brother,” you say as you tug your sleeves down over your frigid fingers. “He brought her here. I don’t know how he found it.” 

“Mysterious.”

You hum. “Doesn’t it make it so much better? The magic of it all. It’s like stepping out of reality.” 

“Is reality so bad?” 

You kick a stray rock. “Sometimes.” 

They’ve been rare recently: the reminders. He’s someone who caused you pain, who worsened your self-doubt and anxieties. You haven't forgiven him. He hadn’t been redeemed. 

You shove it all down again. 

“Guess where this leads.” 

He shoves his hands in his hoodie pocket, the small pouch at the front offering him warmth you highly doubt he needed. He runs warm, you’ve come to learn. You were incredibly jealous. “It leads somewhere?” he asks. 

“Mhm. Guess.” 

“Do I get a prize for getting it right?” 

“No.” 

“It leads to hell.” 

A short burst of laughter escapes your lips. “What?” 

“You did bring me here to murder me after all. I’m being lulled… hypnotised by this spiralling path before you push me down an empty well in the centre.” 

You pause. He pauses too, turning to look at you. 

“You’re weird.” 

“Am I?” he says with a small tilt of his head. 

God, how you wish you had more self control. Then you could prevent your lips curving up into an amused smile. He reacts exactly how you expect. He smiles back. 

By the time you reach the centre, you’re half convinced he’s right. The spiralling pathway seems to have worked to lull you into some sort of strange spellbound state where you’re enjoying Minho’s company. You tolerate him usually, a neutral sort of company that you can find in most anyone you’re forced to share space with. Or, you’d thought it had been neutral. In this garden there’s no distraction, nothing you can use to convince yourself you’re not finding joy in his company in its own right. You wonder how long you’ve been in denial. 

It’s an uncomfortable thought that is happily disrupted by the centrepiece of your garden. The giant oak towers above the rest of the vegetation. You imagine it being here long before the wall was ever built to enclose her in. A swing hangs from one of her thickest branches, swaying in the gentle breeze. In a different garden the whole atmosphere might induce fear, an unsettling feeling. But not your garden. She’s good, soft, and welcoming. There are no ‘deep empty wells to hell’ in your garden. 

Minho leans against the trunk of the great oak as you rock back and forth on the swing—keeping your feet on the ground. He’s a comforting presence, you realise. You thought you might regret bringing him here, that he might taint your memories of this place. 

“Why haven’t you brought Hyunjin here?” 

“I haven’t brought anyone here.” 

He readjusts his position against the tree. “Except me.” 

“Don’t let it go to your head. I didn’t… think about it. I haven’t been here in a long time.” 

“Why?” he asks after a short pause. 

You shrug. “I don’t know. No reason I guess.” 

“You do.” 

“What?” 

“You do know. You always have a reason.” 

You watch him sink to the ground with his knees bent and his back against the trunk. He looks so comfortable, like he’s been here a million times before. 

“I always have a reason?”

He nods. He doesn’t offer any elaboration. 

You can’t help frowning a little, confused by his apparent insistence that he knew something about you that you didn’t. He knew something… about you. You shuffle in the swing, suddenly a little uncomfortable. 

“I wasn’t ready.” 

He waits for you to continue, seemingly completely relaxed. 

“I was always happy here,” you continue. “This place is… it’s happy. It’s outside of reality and it’s magic and it’s—” you suck in a deep breath before letting it out slowly, emptying your lungs. Minho waits. “I didn’t want to taint it with… all of my shit. If I started coming here when I was sad, that’s what it would be: my sad place.” 

“That makes sense.” 

You look up at him, finding him still looking entirely at home beneath your oak tree. “It does?” 

He nods with a small hum. “You’re good at that.” 

“At what?” 

“Knowing yourself, your… feelings.” 

It’s a strange compliment. You’re not sure what to make of it. You’re not even sure it’s true. 

“Are you not?” you question. “Good at that.” 

He drops one of his knees, leaving one leg bent and the other stretched out in front of him. “No,” he says simply. “I’m not.” 

“You’re good with Hyunjin’s feelings. He told me about what you did. Taking him to Europe after—” 

“That was nothing,” he intejects. “It was… an attempt to distract him. That’s it.” 

You’re walking on a tightrope. One wrong word and this all goes to shit. The last thing you want is to spark an argument in the middle of your garden. But this is what you did, you and Minho. You had these conversations in odd hours of the night. 

“I think… you’re cutting yourself short. You… You held him together. You showed him happy places, like this.” You’ve stopped swinging now, the movement feels dangerous. “I can’t imagine it. It must have been—” 

“I thought he might die.”

You hold your breath. 

“He just fell apart,” he continues. “He wouldn’t eat. He hardly drank anything. He just slept and cried.” 

It’s hard to think about. Hyunjin’s tears terrified you. Just the thought of him being in pain cut so deep inside you, you almost wished you didn’t care about him at all. 

“I could feel it,” he says, voice so low it’s only the stillness of your garden that allows you to hear him at all. “I could feel what he felt. It just… seeped out of him. He hadn’t even met her and he was so…” He sucks in a shallow breath. “I just needed to distract him.” 

“You’re a good friend, Minho.” 

He smiles at you. A sad smile. One you’ve never seen before. “Am I?” 

“You loved him when he needed it most. You… held him up until he could stand on his own.” 

His brows draw together as he looks at you, a heavy look filled with nothing you recognise. You can see his thoughts swirling, spiralling somewhere you clearly weren’t allowed to go. It’s only when he looks like he might cry that you stand abruptly from the swing. This wasn’t a sad place. 

“Your turn,” you say, gesturing to the empty seat. 

He blinks, unmoving. You march over and grab his hand from his knee, giving him a hard tug. “Up,” you command, taking note of his warm hand. Always warm. He complies, letting you drag him to his feet and push him gently towards the swing. 

You’re both quiet for a minute or two as you give him a head start, pushing him gently each time he swings back to meet you. 

“I haven’t been on a swing since… I don’t even remember.” 

He sounds lighter now, like the cool breeze has swept away some of the darkness with each swing. You’re surprised to find you care. That the thought of him recovering from sadness settles some anxiety deep in your chest you hadn’t noticed was there. 

“Minho?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m sorry if I made things harder for you. For both of you.” 

He stops the swing abruptly, his feet planted in the grass. You stand behind him. He’s completely still for just long enough to make your stomach drop completely. You’ve fucked up. 

Then he stands and turns to face you, the swing separating you both. He grips each rope, holding the swing still. “What?” he says. 

You can’t take it back. “I said I’m sor—” 

“I heard you,” he interrupts. “I just don’t understand why you would say that.” 

“I caused… a lot of distress to you both. I’m just s—” 

“Don’t. Don’t say it again.” 

He seems almost angry. Please, please don’t ruin this place, you silently plead. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing. You don’t apologise to me. You never—” He cuts himself off before closing his eyes and breathing deeply. When he opens them again he’s much calmer, the intensity mostly gone as his grip on the ropes relaxes. “You did nothing wrong. You’re fine. Okay?” 

All you can do is nod. You’re fine. 

He takes a small step back. “Your turn,” he says. 

please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!

↳ main masterlist

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Made For Me - Epilogue

Series Masterlist

A/N: DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 YEARS OLD.  

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 2077

Summary: Six months later we find our reader pregnant and happy to be where she is. Or is she?

Warnings for Series: NONCON/DUBCON, Drugged NONCON, Somnophilia, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Forced Orgasms, Light Bondage, Stockholm Syndrome, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Light Physical Abuse, Breeding Kink, Cussing, Angst, Sex Toys.

A/N: Thank you to my beta reader @music-culture-mythology for helping me like usual.

Page break is by @whimsicalrogers

Moodboard by @fictional-affairs

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. 😊💜

I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps, or third-party sites. If you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts, it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

Six Months Later…

Things with Bucky have finally settled into a peaceful life after that scary moment when he protected you from an unknown man in the woods. That day changed everything. You no longer see Bucky as your sadistic captor. No, he’s now your husband, your lover, and your everything. You are excited and nervous that you’re now six months pregnant with Bucky’s baby. A part of you looks back on how you got here. The memories still bother you at times but then you remember the happiness you now feel. You have a husband and a baby that’s almost here. 

As you sit outside on the porch soaking in the sun you hum to yourself, you think of the day you married your husband. It was a small ceremony with his six friends; Tony, Steve, Nat, Thor, Clint, and Bruce. It was at that moment you knew there was no going back to your former life. 

When surrounded by everyone that day you could have sworn you recognized Thor from somewhere but you couldn’t put your finger on it. He sort of looked like that man from the woods. Maybe you were imagining it. There is no way Bucky would lie about that to you, right? Of course not, he promised you the truth going forward and a better life together. 

Now your life consists of being a wife and soon-to-be mom living in the beautiful mountain area that is both your refuge and cage. You shake the word cage away instantly as you think of everything Bucky has done for you. He has kept you safe, loved you unconditionally, and has given you the freedom to explore the area with him. Bucky is so gentle and caring as long as you listen to him, which has now become easier to do over time. There have been no punishments from him in many months and life just seems simple now. Who would have thought a simple life awaited you in your future? Your hand caresses your belly softly and a light kick is felt under your hand.

“You're going to be a strong one Jamie, just like your papa.” You can’t help the smile that appears on your face. You know he is going to be Bucky’s mini-me. The thought of a blue-eyed boy warms your heart.

“Who is going to be strong like me?” Bucky's deep, gentle voice shakes you out of your daydreaming. Bucky climbs the stairs and takes a seat next to you. You look up to see him smiling at you with his eyebrow raised in curiosity.

“I was talking to Jamie about how strong he will be. I know he’s gonna be just like you with your blue eyes.” You grin back at him admiring how handsome he looks in his plaid long-sleeve shirt. He could almost pass as a lumberjack with his shirt and beard on display. 

“Our son will be healthy, and strong and hopefully have his mama’s looks cause you are so beautiful to me.” He leans into you and kisses you softly on the lips. You can’t help but hum in content. “Keep making those noises and I may have to take you right here.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself when you kissed me so sweetly. Maybe when you’re done doing chores I can reward you later.” Bucky groans at your suggestion. 

Bucky smirks at you. “Just so happens I’m all done with chores.” 

His vibranium hand cups your cheek gently as he leans in for another kiss. This time the kiss grows into a passionate one and his tongue deepens the kiss. The moan that leaves your throat is a needy one and has Bucky sliding you into his lap. You instantly start grinding down on his hard cock beneath his jeans and it pulls a groan from Bucky. He draws back from kissing you for a moment and before you know what is happening Bucky stands up with you in his arms. 

He carries you bridal style into the bedroom where you both start pulling your clothes off in a frenzy until you’re both naked. Bucky and you crawl onto the bed, careful not to hit the baby bump on anything. Bucky lays you back on the bed as he makes his way between your legs. 

This is what Bucky loves about you. You're now obedient and submissive to him. What’s even better is your addiction to sex with him is natural and not drug-induced. You have an appetite now that you are this far along in your pregnancy and Bucky is enjoying every bit of it. His eyes look you over like you’re a fine dessert ready to be devoured. He lays between your thighs and drapes both your legs over his shoulders. Bucky softly kisses from your inner thigh to your pussy and back. A whine leaves your throat as his beard lightly teases you. 

“Patience doll, you know I will take care of you,” Bucky whispers against your thigh. This time he kisses his way back up your inner thigh but this time he licks along your clit. Bucky does it again and this time you’re moaning his name. He takes his time between your legs making sure to give you the pleasure you are craving. By the time he has you cumming, Bucky is ready to take you apart all over again. 

Bucky moves from between your legs and helps you roll over to your hands and knees. This position always brings pride to him as he gets to hold your baby bump. 

Bucky coats his erection in your arousal as he rubs it between your lips. Slowly he pushes into your sweet pussy until he bottoms out inside you. His hands settle on your hips and you both groan from the pleasure as Bucky starts up a slow, steady pace. The sensation of being so full of his cock almost overwhelms your senses as he picks his pace up and starts taking you harder. 

The sound of his hips smacking against you echoes within the bedroom. Your low whines increase with every thrust. It’s almost like he was teasing you as you are close to cumming again. Bucky’s flesh hand leaves your hip and lightly cups your belly. The thought of him being the one who got you pregnant always fills him with pride. He’s the reason for the family you’re about to start. 

His pace now quickens as he wants to feel your pussy grip him tight. “I can feel you clenching me tight, doll. God, I need you to cum for me like a good girl.” His breath is faltering as you grip the bed tighter with your fingers and groan out his name. Bucky’s fingers move from your belly to your clit and starts rubbing it in tight circles. The pressure keeps building up inside you until you’re hurdling off the cliff in pleasure, moaning his name to the heavens above. As soon as you tighten around his cock Bucky is groaning out his release and spilling his seed into you.

You both breathe in and out, trying to catch your breaths. Bucky’s lips kiss up your back and to your shoulder. Gently he pulls out of you and you both collapse on your sides. 

Following your lovemaking, you both shower and change into some comfy clothes. 

Deciding it was still a beautiful day out you both decide to sit outside on the porch and relax for the rest of the day. Bucky has his arm wrapped around you and his vibranium hand rubbing your belly. Now and then he would feel his son kick. This is one of Bucky’s many favorite things to do with you and lord knows he would do anything to keep you this happy. 

Snuggling in close to Bucky you realize this future is not bad after all. This is where you belong and where you will raise a family with Bucky. Nothing will get in the way of your happy ending. 

That is until you are both startled by a female screaming for help. Bucky jumps off the porch and looks around for where the voice is coming from. A woman appears out of the woods and is running towards the cabin. The woman runs up to Bucky begging for help. You are about to get up when Bucky tells you to go inside. You do as he says and walk into the cabin looking out at them.

The woman seems to be distressed and crying. She keeps saying she was kidnapped and needed help. Something feels familiar to you about this situation. Suddenly, the skies start to darken and a crack of thunder echoes across the forest. You suddenly feel a chill up your spine as a long blonde-haired man steps out from the tree line. It’s Bucky’s friend Thor that you met at the wedding. 

Thor walks up to Bucky who is holding the hysterical woman as she pleads for safety. Bucky easily hands her over to Thor, who is now throwing her over his shoulder. You watch as this screaming, terrified woman is being taken in the same direction that they came from. Your anxiety starts to kick up as memories swirl in your head about the day you were taken. Not taken, you think again, but rescued by Bucky. 

Once they are out of sight Bucky comes in to comfort you. He looks at your frightened face and pulls you close to him. “Are you okay?” He asks as he holds you in his arms.

You nod your head. “I think seeing her and the way she was acting stirred up some anxiety in me. I-is she going to be okay? She seemed scared.”

Bucky lets out a sigh. “She is Thor’s new girlfriend. She’s just a little confused is all. He takes care of her like I take care of you. She is safe and loved by him. I’m sure they will work everything out together. Don’t worry too much about it.”

“Okay, I won’t.” You can’t stop the bad feelings from kicking up and you know this will stay with you for a while. Bucky lets you go and kisses your forehead. He smiles back at you and heads to the couch to read. 

Inside your mind is screaming again that this has to be wrong. This woman seemed to be just like you were months ago. Is this the first time she’s gotten away from Thor? Maybe you could have comforted her or found out where she is staying, if it’s nearby. It would be nice to have a female friend especially if you want to run again. 

No, you don’t have a say in anything. Bucky is your life now and so is this baby you carry. You can’t let this unknown woman make you confused. Life will be better here with Bucky and once the baby arrives your life will finally have purpose again. You will never leave Bucky, you decide. This is your home now. You were made for him.

The End

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[luvhyun3]

YANG JUNGWON, blanket thief of the night ☆ (fluff, romance, gn!reader, wc: 504, warnings: mentions of kissing)

★ — in which jungwon doesn’t appreciate you stealing all the blankets at night, but manages to find a compromise that he’s sure will benefit you both.

Yang Jungwon found himself shivering for the fifth time in the night.

Your body laid next to his on the bed, sound asleep. He wondered how your unconscious self could snooze so guiltlessly after having once again snatched the blankets from his now freezing body.

He huffed, frustration bubbling in his chest over how hard it was to be angry at your peaceful face. You looked like an angel, the fluffy blankets you were swaddled up in your holy robes. Your eyes were closed, showing off your long, pretty eyelashes, and from your soft, slightly ajar lips came gentle snores, filling the otherwise silent space of the room. Indeed, you were a picturesque vision of tranquillity, sleeping away without a care in the world.

An angel was still a thief, however. And Jungwon was still very, very cold.

This was ridiculous, he thought. He’d never get any decent sleep at this rate.

He continued to gaze at your sleeping figure as he pondered. He knew that pulling the sheets from you would be a useless endeavour. It would only result in continuing the tug of war that had been happening the entire night. Should he grab another blanket? No. You’d probably steal that one too.

Jungwon sighed, forlorn. The cat print pyjamas covering his entire body did nothing to stop the biting cold from penetrating his skin, turning his flesh into ice. Everything he did to combat the glaciating of his body was in vain – no rubbing of his arms against his skin, curling up into a ball or violent shivering could stop the eventual frostbite he’d develop.

You, however, were probably so, so warm in comparison to him. Wrapped in stolen goods and aggravatingly unaware of his freezing form. And yet like the angel you are, you still somehow looked so sweet. So huggable.

Huggable….. Huggable?

Ah.

Jungwon may have found the solution to his dilemma.

Rolling over to your side of the bed, he gently made quick work of the blankets encasing your form, until they were evenly spread around both of your bodies. The commotion caused you to finally stir awake, eyes half-lidded as you regarded Jungwon sleepily.

“What are you doing?” Grogginess clung to your voice as you spoke.

Jungwon shushed you as he snaked his arms around your waist.

“You’re so cold….” you whined drowsily as you felt him pull you flush against him.

“I wouldn’t be so cold if you hadn’t kept stealing the blankets.”

Jungwon felt relief flood into his veins. He could feel himself finally start to defrost as he held himself against your warm frame.

“Now go to sleep,” his voice had now lowered to a whisper as he felt himself finally begin to drift off.

You simply hummed, responding with a short ‘sorry’ before snuggling further into him, face smushed against his chest, once again succumbing to sleep.

Jungwon fought the urge to roll his eyes and opted to instead kiss your temple with a smile, before finally entering the land of the dreaming.

© luvhyun3 — do not copy/repost to other sites.

PERM TAGLIST ♡ @ilynaevis @starlostseungmin @1-800-lixie @jangwonie @one16core @hwangsify @nyanggk @yujipg

NETWORKS ♡ @k-labels @kflixnet

[rosesanddecay]

Oscar Isaac Characters Finding You Dead

Minors DNI

Featured Characters: Miguel O’Hara, Moon Knight System, Basil Stitt, Blue Jones, Poe Dameron, Nathan Bateman, Duke Leto Atreides, Prince John, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Anselm Vogelweide, Llewyn Davis, Abel Morales x gn!reader

Sorry if anyone is ooc!

CW: death, murder, suicide, blood/gore, break-in, various wounds, torture, etc. + pet names, untranslated Spanish, so on.

Notice! Not all of these scenarios are romantically founded, the reader is just someone who knew the character/was close with them.

These are just some short, dumb little rambles/headcannons of mine, so it’s not written the best.

Not proof read or heavily edited

Miguel O’Hara - Villain Attack

There was never a doubt in Miguel’s mind, he knew that one day he’d have to save you. But not like this…

A Green Goblin anomaly had appeared and started bombing Nueva York.

You’d think with all the Spider People so close by, there’d be no casualties. But being so focused on protecting other universes, he almost neglected his own.

The moment Miguel was aware of the anomaly, he and many other Spiders rushed in to help protect the city.

The damage was already extreme, with two buildings nearly demolished.

Spiders spread across the scene, saving and moving the bystanders as Miguel focused on the alternate Goblin.

After capturing the terrorizer, Miguel started barking orders to everyone, wanting everything cleared up asap.

He was heading back to base as the spiders cleared the rubble.

“Oh god- MIGUEL!” One of the Spiders cried out as they tried to lift a large blanket of concrete up. The urgency in their voice quickly set Miguel off.

Miguel rushed over, his heart dropping seeing your dust covered body.

How long had you been under there? Why didn’t anyone sense you sooner? Miguel’s mind raced with panic.

With his sheer strength, he threw the debris away from your body and checked your vitals, his eyes focused on your face the entire time.

Open your eyes… please… mi amor…

When didn’t feel a heartbeat, he went to start cpr, but realized your ribs were broken. The broken bones had stabbed your vital organs, he couldn’t save you, it would’ve only caused more damage.

Miguel didn’t even realize he was crying until he saw his tears hit your face, muddling the dust covering your skin.

It wasn’t often he cried, hell, it took a good few minutes for him to start crying over Gabriella’s death. But after another loss, he couldn’t hold in the pain he was already barely containing.

His arms cradled your broken body with the most care possible. It didn’t matter that you were gone, you were his, the person he swore to protect.

I failed again…

Sobs ruptured through the bombing site. The boss who everyone saw as intimidating and cold, was now hunched over, sobbing over your limp body.

I failed.

I failed.

I failed…

Moon Knight System - Steven / Marc / Jake - Break-in and Murder

Steven, once again, had a late night of work at the gift shop. He was exhausted when he came home, but was more than happy to be back home after stocking shelves for hours.

He was almost tempted to let Marc or Jake front instead, but Steven wanted to see you before Jake took off to do Konshu’s bidding later in the night.

“Love, I'm back!” He says, keeping up his cheerfulness. It had been a long day, he just wants to see you.

Looking around the house, Steven felt confused. You normally rushed to meet him, to welcome him back.

Where were you?

Walking into the bedroom, Steven saw your form under the blankets.

“Love? Are you not feeling well?” He asked quietly, worried he might wake you.

You looked at peace, your hair tousled as it lays on the pillow. Your skin was a bit pale, but Steven smiled softly, assuming you were just tired, he knew he sure was.

His hand fell on your covered stomach as he sat beside you. But a warmth quickly spread over where he had applied pressure to the blanket.

Looking over, Steven nearly had a heart attack. His hand was tacky from blood that now soaked the thick comforter that’s covering you.

With fear rushing through his veins, he ripped off the covers to reveal the stab wounds littered across your torso.

A scream ripped through his chest as he quickly tried to see if you were still alive. His heart dropped when he felt your cold skin and lack of a heart beat.

Despite Jake and Marc trying to desperately front, Steven wouldn’t let them or listen to their pleads.

Instead, he grabbed your body and sobbed. His hand clasped yours, wishing yours would squeeze his, that you’d wake up and kiss his worries away.

No, no, no— what happened— love… oh god…

It took a good while for Steven to let one of the others front, but Marc took over when he got the chance.

Both had been confined to the mirrors in the bedroom, wishing they could hold you like Steven had. Instead, for over an hour, they were stuck in the mirrors, cursed to grieve from a distance.

Steven faded back into the subconscious, too drained to watch Marc from the mirror.

Jake, on the other hand, took a step back into the subconscious because he had his own plans.

Marc didn’t sob as much as Steven did, but his pain was just as bad.

He had lost so much in life, he was almost confused on how to express his grief for you.

His fingers run along your face, tracing every detail he loves so much. Marc wished you would open your eyes, but your body was long since cold.

Marc wished he complimented you more. Sure, he praised you often, but did you know how much he loved you?

His heart ached with guilt. Marc wanted to make you blush once more from his compliments and soft kisses.

He didn’t know who did this. But he would. They’d find out who did this.

They all would get justice for you.

By Konshu’s word, he swore they would.

It was Marc who called the police and watched as you were dragged away to the hospital morgue.

It was Marc who watched the security footage that showed your killer breaking into the apartment and leaving an hour later.

It was Marc who found out the explicit details that came with your murder.

Marc was the one who told Steven and Jake the details.

This shouldn’t have ever happened… but now we know. What do we do next?

Jake was the protector, or so he’s supposed to be.

Standing over your body in the freezing morgue, Jake stared at your expressionless face.

He could remember the last time you two had a date night. The night was warm as he drove the two of you around town. He could remember the beautifully warm smile that broke across your face as the date came to a close.

Jake would do anything to see that smile again.

The others had already fronted to say their final goodbyes, Jake wanted to be the last one. He wanted to talk to you one last time.

“We found out who did this, amor.” He whispered, trying to contain his wavering voice.

“They won’t get away with this…” His lips brushed your forehead.

”I’m sorry I couldn’t save you…” His tears finally fell down as he reluctantly pulled away.

As he left the hospital, Jake dawned the suit and slipped into the night, ready to enact revenge for you.

Your murderer will regret ever laying a finger on you…

Basil Stitt - Suicide

Basil hadn’t seen you in a while. Yes, part of it was because he had locked himself in his apartment, but he also just hadn’t seen you pass by his door.

He always had his eye to the peephole when you should be leaving or getting home from work.

Is that weird? Of course, but it made him feel less alone. He wanted to talk to you, but his scars contained him to his room.

Where were you? He wondered after spending an entire day looking out into the hallway.

Basil’s heart dropped when he saw movers taking garbage bags out of your apartment.

What are they doing to your things?

Despite his fear, Basil dawned his paper bag and poked his head out.

“What are you guys doing?” Basil questioned nervously.

“There was a suicide. The family wanted us to collect the person’s belongings.” The confused and hesitant workers answered.

Basil slammed his door and collapsed to the ground instantly. The paper bag tumbling to the floor as he clutched and pulled his hair.

His body trembled with grief and hatred as tears pooled on the floor.

He never was good at reacting to bad information, but this was worse.

Why did you leave him too? What did he do wrong?

First it was his face, then his job, then his family and girlfriend, but now you too?

His tears turned to screams and Basil went on a destructive rampage in his apartment, the agony overwhelming him.

He blamed himself for your death, despite barely knowing anything about it.

Maybe if he hadn’t gone into hiding, you would’ve lived. Maybe you two could’ve been lonely together.

But he was also angry.

How could you leave him after everything that happened to him? When he needed you the most?

You didn’t know though. How could you? Your neighbor, the only person you saw everyday, had disappeared for weeks without a word.

Basil knew that, but nothing could stop the emotions flooding and pouring out of him.

Why did you leave me? Why? Why?! Why?!?

Blue Jones - Murdered by a Client

Working for Blue always had its risks, and everyone knew that, including him.

But Blue didn’t expect this.

You had been bought out for the night by a rich newcomer. Nothing bad was supposed to happen.

Blue gave them permission to use you as you saw fit. As long as the merchandise didn’t get damaged, anything went.

Blue stood over your strangled body, his face neutral and flat.

Your glossed over eyes stared back at him, lips hung open loosely.

He didn’t expect his toy to be destroyed, let alone strangled to death.

Your costume was still on, but your makeup was out of place. Blue’s doll was a beautiful, broken mess.

Blue exhaled a puff of smoke as he turned to the killer, the man a sobbing mess.

“I didn’t mean to- they wouldn’t listen to me- please let me go, I’ll compensate you-“ He tried to ramble out, shutting up when the barrel of Blue’s gun pressed against his forehead.

The shot rang through the entire building. The girls and clients quickly rushed out of the other rooms to see what happened.

Screams and tears broke out from the girls as Blue pushed past everyone going to his office.

But it was once he was alone that Blue had the chance to process what happened.

Everytime he closed his eyes, he saw your dead ones. It hurt seeing something he owned in such a state.

Only one tear falls down his cheek as he reviews the footage of what happened. He always kept cameras in the rooms, it was a security measure, but he didn’t think he’d actually ever watch the footage for something like this.

Blue already knew the man was lying about why he killed you, but it hurt to watch you get choked and beg to be let go of.

The man was just angry, he only wanted to kill. You had done nothing wrong. Which made Blue mad.

He leaned back in his seat as the hot, silent tears fell down his cheeks, hidden by the cigar smoke flooding the front of his face.

Blue decided that, from the forward, he was going to be far more strict with who could touch his toys…

My poor bunny…

Poe Dameron - Spaceship Crash

You and Poe had agreed to stay safe, to meet one another after the fight concluded.

Together, you were going to celebrate the victory.

Poe knew you were an intelligent flier, that you were going to do great things for the universe.

There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that everything went well, until he joined the celebrations…

Everyone was celebrating over the successful stop to the First Order. But as Poe searched the crowds, he realized you were missing.

Fearing the worst, he darted to the medical tents, desperately looking for you. His fears were met when he saw your barely breathing body.

Poe fell to his knees besides the cot you rested on, analyzing the damage you had taken.

He called out your name, to no response.

“Their ship was shot and crashed. There were some malfunctions and the safety’s didn’t trigger. They don’t have much longer, there’s nothing we can do on such short notice.” A nurse sadly explained.

“So you're just leaving them to die out!?” Poe exclaimed in horror, his tears falling fast and hard.

Despite wanting to reprimand the nurse, he knew it would do nothing. Instead, he held your hand to his lips as he watched you until your final breath.

In your final moments, Poe had been whispering soft and loving words to you, hoping you could hear him.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner, that any of this happened. You deserve the world, the galaxy. You helped save us. You’re a hero… you’re my galaxy…”

Poe couldn’t stop crying, and he could barely hear himself over the cheering outside.

He should’ve been celebrating with you, this shouldn’t have happened.

No one knew where Poe had gone, and hours later, Finn had to pull Poe away from your body.

Despite all reluctance, Poe eventually left your side for the night, but he didn’t stop mourning you.

That night, he spent his time in your room holding your belongings close, not wanting to lose the last bits of you he does have.

My galaxy, I’m so so sorry…

Nathan Bateman - Killed by a Prototype

You had been one of the few people Nathan trusted enough to come around the house.

Not that he ever let you go downstairs, no.

He didn’t need you to.

When first developing Ava and her predecessors, he had chosen to try and study a real person. Not through the cameras like he did later on, no.

He thought it’d be better to model the AI after someone he liked.

But he was wrong. One of the few times he had let his emotions make his decision, and it was the worst one.

While trying to work out the kinks of the AI, it had escaped. It had knocked him unconscious for long enough that it made its way upstairs.

The girl stared at you in horror as you stood in the kitchen, knife in hand from making dinner.

You looked just as shocked to see a nude woman coming up from the basement, wires hanging from her broken arm.

She even looked oddly similar to you.

Before you could even react, she tackled you, the knife going flying.

Nathan, having heard the crash, awoke and ran upstairs.

He came up from behind and broke the AI’s skull, the body falling on top of you.

“For fucks sake. That was awf…” he trailed off once he shoved the AI’s body to the side and saw you.

Nathan didn’t know how to react seeing your bleeding body, knife sticking out from where your heart is.

There was no hospital nearby, and with how glassy your eyes looked, he knew you were doomed.

Silently, Nathan sat back on his knees and feet, just staring down at your lifeless body.

He wasn’t an emotional person, but he didn’t like how he felt at that moment.

His eyes searched yours before shifting to the dead AI woman, his creation, your killer.

Nathan’s fists reacted quicker than his brain had, and before he knew it, his hands were bloody from breaking the AI down to nothing but shards.

His feet moved to the bar, and before he knew it, he had drunk a full bottle of vodka.

His knuckles, caked in dried blood, chucked the bottle at the wall. The shatters go flying, some even hitting you…

Nathan stood over your body, once again, staring down at you. His expression unclear.

After your death, Nathan was far more careful. Adding keycards to open doors, not just simple locks.

He even kept the prototypes locked up no matter what.

And who knows, maybe your death is what got him to start drinking so much…

How idiotic…

Duke Leto Atreides - Poisoning

Leto knew the dangers of loving you, yet he still did it.

He always made his love clear, practically worshiping you in private.

Leto would risk his life and title as Duke just to care for you for forever.

He wanted to propose eventually.

But your life was taken long before he had the chance.

The Duke looked down at your slumped body, your poisoned drink spilt from where your head had fallen.

In that moment, Leto regretted never marrying you.

He loved you, but in theory, it was better to stay unmarried, open to alliances with the other Great Houses.

But this wasn’t worth it.

Your life wasn’t worth it.

Leto had to keep his composure in front of his men, but in the comfort of his room, he cried. He weeped.

His sobs shook his body as remorse and grief overwhelmed his senses.

Seeing your body in such a way, it shook him to the core.

Sure, he had experienced death before, but this was different.

He loved you, and he saw where you died, he saw you dead.

Choked sobs escaped his lips as he recounted all the moments you two shared.

He wished he could’ve kept you safe, stopped you from drinking the poison.

You were in the House of Atreides, you should have been safe.

That’s what ate at him. That you died where he swore you were protected.

You died under his care.

Why you were killed, he wasn’t sure. But he swore to find out, to avenge you.

If nothing else, he’d make sure to get you justice.

He loved you, and he messed up never marrying you.

I wish I had made you mine, my dear…

Prince John - Assassination

John, the prideful idiot, should’ve never put a bounty on Robin Hood’s head.

It only made his reputation worse.

John should’ve lowered the taxes, but he didn’t.

And now all the citizens hate him, rightfully so.

But John always had you to go back to, you to love and receive love back.

You tried to reason with John, to show him he was being unreasonable and bleeding his kingdom dry.

Yet he never listened, and he now knows the danger of not listening to the advice he gets.

You had just been going about your business, crossing through the towns when you were attacked.

What was supposed to be a simple robbery, turned to an assassination. One of Robin’s troupe mates had gone rogue; they wanted to send Prince John a message.

The message was received.

John had gotten word of what happened.

He found out about how you begged for your life.

How you cried before your body was abandoned on a wooded path.

It made him angry. It made John furious.

You didn’t deserve this. You advocated for the citizens, yet you were the one killed.

John had destroyed everything in sight upon hearing of your murder.

His guards and mother had barely been able to calm him down. But once he had come down from the rage, John broke out into sobs.

He was barely consolable, all he wanted was to fall into your arms and be comforted by you.

Just one more time, John wanted to feel you caress his scalp as you reassured your love for him.

He couldn’t believe he lost you, the only person who loved him.

In spite and pure hatred, John raised the bounty on Robin Hood and his gaggle of followers.

John wanted them alive so he could execute them on your behalf, but he’d take their dead bodies as well.

As long as they were dead, he would be content.

Robin Hood… you’ll regret this… hurting my beloved…

Santiago “Pope” Garcia - Car Accident

Santi had been through so much in life, and it made him extremely overprotective of those he loved.

He always was worried and tried to protect you.

He didn’t want to risk you getting hurt, especially in the dangerous world we live in.

So why did the world still take you from him?

Santi didn’t know how to react when he got the call from the hospital.

He initially had ignored the call, thinking it was a reminder to set up an appointment or something. But when they called again a few minutes after, the blood in his face drained.

“… died… car crash…” those were the only words his brain registered the operator saying.

His heart broke into a million pieces and he felt like he was hyperventilating.

You died..? How could you die in a crash? After everything tried to do to protect you?

The call had ended and Santi sat hunched over, crying into the palms of his hands. His breathing was erratic and uncontrollable.

If he had picked up the first time, maybe he could have made it to the hospital. Maybe he could’ve said goodbye. At least, that’s what he thought.

“I’m so sorry- oh god, no…” He murmured over and over, desperately wishing it wasn’t true.

He almost wished he was at the crash, that way he could’ve seen you one last time. But now, he’s stuck waiting for the morgue to call, waiting to confirm that it’s your body on the table.

Santi’s sobs only stopped when he passed out from exhaustion.

Why did this happen to you? Why you…

Anselm Vogelweide - Shot on Accident

Anselm was known for his erratic and random behavior. That included when he’d change his mind on a whim.

Despite his absurd actions, you cared for him, as he did you.

Anselm always kept you nearby, and everyone knew that. Even people just passing through his office knew that.

He treated you differently, he treated you better than most of his other employees.

Where he’d change his mind as he saw fit with his clients, he was very firm with his decisions regarding you.

And it didn’t go unnoticed.

So when Anselm decided to raise the price out of the blue on a client, the client was pissed.

It wasn’t unexpected that a gun was going to be pulled, but the gunshot that rang out- that was a surprise.

His men had already detained the perpetrator before Anselm realized that you’d been shot.

Your hands clutched at your bleeding heart, and your eyes quickly fell shut, your body following suit.

Disregarding his squeaking leg brace, Anselm dove to collect your body in his arms.

His eyes were wide with horror and disbelief at the sight of you dying in his arms.

The world was practically silent for him as he watched you breath your last breath.

Anselm sat there for a moment, pulling your body close to his chest in an attempt to preserve your warmth. He felt an ache in his chest when you gave no response, your body limp and spilling blood.

Anselm didn’t give himself the time to mourn or cry, instead he went cold, his heart stilling for a moment as his attention turned to the shooter.

Looking through the fogged glass lens, Anselm ordered to have your killer chained up in the basement as he carried your body to another room.

For months after your death, Anselm tortured the person who killed you.

The basement became a crime scene of horrific activities. Teeth and nail pulling, breaking bones, slicing skin, it was all incomparable to what Anselm felt the murderer deserved.

They killed his dear dove. This was the least he could do.

His disappointment was immeasurable when he found the murderer dead one morning, Anselm felt far from done torturing them.

The body was disposed of swiftly, and afterwards, Anselm visited the extravagant grave he made special for you.

It was only then, after everything, that he let himself cry over your passing.

My dove…

Llewyn Davis - Suicide

Llewyn was your friend, and the two of you always helped one another out.

He needed a couch to sleep on, you were open. You needed a drinking buddy, he was there.

You both couldn’t offer much monetarily, both just trudging through life and old habits.

But you always left the window unlocked, just for him.

Llewyn hadn’t heard from you in a while, and it had just so happened, he needed a place to stay and was in the area.

Throwing open the fire escape window, he hopped through, entering your apartment.

He called your name as he wandered around, confused where you could be so late in the day.

Yet, when he arrived at the bathroom door he paused, knocking before entering.

He instantly wished he never opened the door.

In the tub, surrounded by bloodied water, he saw you. Your face was towards the window, like you were watching the sky before you died.

The sight made him nearly hurl, but the tears made it out first.

What have you done…

Just when Llewyn thought his life couldn’t get worse, you decided to leave him just like Mike did…

Of course, he knew it wasn’t actually a choice to go against him, but it still felt like he was part of why you took your life.

And that broke his heart.

If he had just visited you or bummed at your place more often, would you still have gone through with it?

He called the police after a bit of a breakdown, and a few days later, he was alerted that your only goodbye was a note scrawled with “I’m sorry.”

Maybe the note was for him, but boy, he wished there was more.

A simple “fuck you Llewyn” would’ve been better than this…

You had always asked him to play a song, but he alway said no. He always said he was too tired, that music was his work, not something he wanted to do all the time.

You never pushed him to play for you, not like other people did. So, he never played for you.

But now, in front of your grave, Llewyn played his heart out to you. His tears bouncing off his guitar, onto the frozen ground where you’d been buried.

‘If I had wings, like Norah’s dove,

I’d fly up the river to the one I love…’

Abel Morales - Accidentally Killed During Work

Abel knew the dangers of letting his employees continue their oil deliveries and solo inspections.

So many of his employees had already been attacked, yet he still took the risk.

He just didn’t expect the attacks to get worse.

Sure, some had been threatened with a gun, hell, one was kidnapped and beaten.

But this was the first time someone actually died…

Upon hearing about your death, Abel stopped in his tracks and demanded to know what happened.

He felt like his life was falling apart the moment his wife explained what happened.

After so many troubles and hoops he’s had to go through for his company, he didn’t think he’d be losing one of his best employees as well.

You were doing a simple house call and sales pitch.

That’s all it was supposed to be.

If he had known your colleague wasn’t feeling well, he wouldn’t have sent you out to the call at all.

He never would’ve guessed you’d decide to go alone…

Abel felt guilty over your death. You died because the competition was trying to send a message, or at least that’s what he assumed.

Abel held his head high as he found out about the circumstances of your death.

Apparently, the murderers were only meant to rough you up a bit and dump you just outside city limits, in a particularly snowy area.

But as you tried to run away, one of the goons tried to shoot a warning shot to get you to stop.

The bullet hit you in the Achilles tendon.

You collapsed into the dense snow instantly, crying out in pain.

In fear of getting arrested, the shooters fled, leaving you to bleed in the snow.

You died of hypothermia. You could’ve been saved.

That’s what hurt Abel the worst.

If your killers had just tried, they could’ve brought you to the hospital. But instead, they’re now awaiting a trial and eventual imprisonment.

But because they confessed, and it was an accidental death, they would be able to have parole, they could walk free one day.

To Abel, they deserved to rot in prison forever. But he didn’t have the right to oppose the judge, not when your family had already accepted the punishment.

Abel paid for the funeral, and there he saw you for the last time.

I’m sorry this happened… I’ll take care of your family from now on. I promise…

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Brb sobbing in the club rn…

For real though, thank you for reading!

Feel free to send over any requests/suggestions

[c0wgurlz]

Trouble On My Left, Trouble On My Right

Chapter 2: Operation, Find Caroline a Cowboy

gif by @bodybebangin

Kayce Dutton x Reader/OC - Friends to Lovers

He doesn't even have to take half a step to catch back up with me. “Come on Caroline, you know I’m just teasing you.” He pats my back as a peace offering. “Although,” Okay, maybe not. “I have it on good authority that I can please the ladies, so save a horse and all that.” Winking flirtatiously, he belts out a laugh, finally removing his hand from my bare back. And what a blessing that is, because if he had kept touching me while talking about… that, I’d be liable to combust.

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Chapter 1

Sorry it took me so long to update! I'm a teacher and my free time is fairly limited. We're at a point in the school year now though that is much less stressful, so expect fairly regular updates, at least for the next few chapters.

Comments are so appreciated! I'd love to know what ya'll like and what ya'll think I could improve upon.

As always: I do not own Yellowstone (2018) or any of its characters. This work is not monetized.

THIS FIC IS CROSSPOSTED TO AO3. It is not posted to any other site. I am lookingcold on AO3 and that is all. I do not give permission for my work to be posted by others to any other platform.

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We don’t talk for the rest of the walk, but the silence is comfortable, like it always is between us. Kayce and I have never asked too much of each other, have always read each others’ moods as if they were our own, and that apparently hasn’t changed from the five years we’ve spent apart. It’s glaringly obvious to us both that neither is up for idle chit chat. 

And while I’m really not up for small talk, the silence does, unfortunately, give me entirely too much time to overthink. What felt like such a natural decision, what felt like fulfilling my duty this morning, now feels foolhardy, and quite possibly too risky. Now this isn’t to say that I’m doubting my choice. Helping Mr. John, helping Kayce, helping the family and ranch that raised me, that picked up my pieces and glued me back together over and over, is a no brainer. Helping the people and the place I love most in the world feels as natural as breathing. But smoothing over a murder? That’s- No, I’m not doubting my choice, but I’m sure as hell doubting my sanity. When I said the Duttons needed a criminal defense lawyer, not a PR specialist, I wasn’t exaggerating. And if I’m being honest, this job feels more like that of an accessory than a public relations consult.

The front porch of the big house comes into view well before I’m ready. This dinner may be a reunion of sorts, but it’ll undoubtedly be a business meeting as well. Steeling my nerves for such talks doesn’t come quite as naturally to me as it once did. I feel like a knight with rusty armor. Weak at critical points, weak where it matters. More aptly, I feel like a little girl again, staring into the headlights of a train with no way to move and no way to stop it. I’m no coward, please don’t think that of me, but you know that feeling of impending doom? The one that makes your spine tingle and your stomach drop to your knees? Dread is probably the best word. That’s all I can feel as I stand at the bottom step of the Dutton’s porch. 

I must hesitate for too long, or stare off into space, or look absolutely fucking terrified, because in a flash Kayce is back down the two steps he’d already taken and by my side. He doesn’t say anything, you’d think we’d taken a vow of silence, but just looks at me imploringly, resembling a curious puppy so much I almost crack a smile. And then Kacye, sweet Kayce, wraps his calloused hand around mine and tucks it against his chest, over his heart, before tipping his head, ushering me up the stairs. Once I’m half way up I get a fond, “Atta girl,” and what woman doesn’t love being praised like an obedient mare. I snort in response and kick out my foot to trip him, but only a little bit, on the last stair. Can’t have hime getting too full of himself.

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Dinner is nice, but rather awkward if I’m totally honest, mainly due to the fact that Beth and Jamie are in attendance. Let’s just say Gator clears the table well before dinner should truly be over. To my surprise, we don’t talk business, but rather I’m questioned, interrogated really, over what I’ve been up to the past five years and why haven’t I called and would it really kill me to send a text every few months. Beth is the one who leads this inquiry. Jamie and I were never particularly close, so he remains silent for the most part, and he leaves in a huff shortly after Beth throws a fork like it’s a trident directly at his forehead. Can’t say I blame him, even I can only handle so much of Beth when she’s at her worst.

My interrogation is blissfully, or so I thought, cut short by Mr. John when he asks, “So, ya’ll have any plans tonight?” He folds his napkin meticulously, trying to look nonchalant but missing the mark by a shameful amount. If I thought that feeling of dread had left me, I was wrong.

I narrow my eyes and prepare to defend myself against an interrogation of a different kind. Before I can grit out a suspicious, “No, why,” however, Beth pipes up. “Actually Daddy, since you asked,” at this she turns to me, “Caroline, how do you feel about heading into town and getting gloriously drunk and then gloriously fucked? You’ve been gone far too long, so you’ve got to be re-initiated, re-tainted if you will.” She looks me up and down, assessing. “You’re far too shiny, like a little cherub.”

Jesus Christ, I think she’s suggesting I fuck a townie. And Mary and Joseph I haven’t even so much as kissed someone since my divorce - ok, well maybe a peck or two here or there, but that’s besides the point. Here I was, so worried about talking business, about skirting around the subject of murder, only to be blindsided by an age old Dutton scheme. Operation: Find Caroline a Cowboy. Well if Beth thinks I’m about to get biblical with some rando she is absolutely, positively looney tunes. Now, how to communicate all of that in a tactful way? Taking a shallow breath, I part my lips and prepare to spout some placating, buzzword bullshit. Something along the lines of, “Well, as fun as that sounds, I’m actually really tired. Maybe later this weekend?” or “How about we just kick back in the bunkhouse tonight, save the salaciousess for this Saturday?” Before I can even utter a word though, Kayce butts in on my behalf.

“Do you maybe think you could save the corruption for later, Beth? I’ve already promised the boys that I’ll bring Caroline around for cards tonight.” While his voice is calm, casual even, Kayce gives himself away the moment he begins to bounce his leg, the tap tap tap of the heel of his boot loud in the otherwise quiet room. He’s uncomfortable, maybe even irritated, which aren’t we all at least a little bit when speaking to Beth, but there’s something else. A boyishness to his demeanor that I haven’t seen since high school. There’s also the fact that we had decidedly made zero plans to visit the bunkhouse tonight. So. Interesting.

I’m certainly not the only one to notice his odd shift in behavior, as Mr. John’s lips curl into a smirk and Beth’s face arranges inself into a pleased, self-satisfied expression. She frequently wears the look of someone who knows enough to destroy literally any given person’s life, but this look is more playful, one of a cat that’s pinned a mouse by its tail. Ignoring Kayce, she turns her attention back to me. “Caroline, sweetheart, don’t even think about screwing any of those cowboys. I know old habits die hard, but trust me when I say not a single one of them is worth a ride.” Now, to be clear, Beth knows, I know, Mr. John knows, and even Kayce knows that Beth has only ever screwed one of said cowboys out in that bunkhouse, still, her dig elicits the desired reaction from Kayce. And furthermore, she makes it clear that she’s not just trying to set me up with any old cowboy. I’m on to her. Operation: Find Caroline a Kayce.

With a cringe of disgust and a flushed face, he exclaims, “Fuck’s sake Beth, I’m not taking her out there to pimp her out.” He’s stopped smoothing the tablecloth, but now he’s exasperatedly running his hand through his still damp hair. Shit, Kayce. You think he’d have learned by now how to not play into Beth’s hand. Some people just have to learn the hard way I suppose. 

Beth’s eyebrows lift and the corner of her mouth quirks. “Well you’re not a very good bestfriend then, are you?”

“Fuck you.” Kayce mutters, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms petulantlly.

“Maybe you should be saying that to her.” Beth points at me with her napkin, dropping it onto her plate as she rises from the table. “This has been fun. Possibly the best family dinner we’ve had all year.” Planting a kiss on Mr. John’s cheek she says, “Love you Daddy, have a drink with me later, will you? I think we should talk.” Then, rounding the table to me, she strokes my hair, almost motherly, “Caroline, sweetheart, clear your schedule Saturday. Me and you are going to paint the town red.” Finally, reaching Kayce, she sighs, “Goodnight, dummy. Let me know if you’d like help finding your balls.” And just like a tornado, she’s there wreaking havoc one moment, and gone the next.

The dining room is uncomfortably silent for a beat after she exits, until Mr. John blessedly breaks the awkwardness yet again. “Beth’s antics aside, I don’t think ya’ll should be going out anywhere tonight. We’ve got several important meetings lined up tomorrow morning and I need both of you sharp. Especially you Kayce, tomorrow will require you to tell a very particular version of events and I can’t risk you fucking that up. Alright, Son?”

Looking slightly cowed, Kayce nods his head in agreement. “Alright.”

Having determined this hell of a dinner has gone on long enough, I begin to make moves to excuse Kayce and myself. “Dinner was delicious Mr. John, thank you for having me. And thank you for such fine company.” I may be lying out of my ass, but my momma didn’t raise me to be rude.

Mr. John exhales a dry laugh and rises from the table. It’s moments like this where his and Beth’s resemblance is striking. “No need to thank me, honey. You’re family, you’re welcome at my table anytime.” Pushing in his chair he surveys Kayce and I with calculating eyes. “Why don’t you two head on home, you both look like you’ve been put through the wringer.”

Gee Mr. John, I wonder the hell why?

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Our walk back isn’t nearly as silent as our walk to the house. To say Kayce is pissed would be putting it lightly. “What in the actual fuck was all that? I mean, Beth was no surprise, but what shit is Dad trying to pull?”

“Kayce, your daddy barely said a word.” I’m more focused on the words left unsaid.

“He didn’t have to say anything Carrie, he sat there like a smug bastard and let Beth say it all for him.” Kayce may as well be pitching a fit the way he kicks at the ground, arms hugged tight to his chest like a wronged toddler. Honestly, the image is kind of amusing, so much so that I have to stifle a laugh. I must not do a good enough job, because I can feel the glare that Kayce shoots through the side of my head. “What?”

Not wanting to add fuel to the fire, I’m quick to hide my growing grin. “Well first off, I’m gonna overlook the fact you pulled out my forbidden nickname. But second, do you remember that Christmas when we were thirteen? How Beth hung mistletoe from literally every single doorway, and how your daddy actually enforced the kissing rule?” I raise my eyebrows high, daring him to conveniently “forget” an awkward moment from our childhood as he often pretends to do.

The tips of his ears turn pink, but he sighs his agreement. “Yeah I remember, we must’ve kissed two dozen times. At the time I thought dying would’ve been a kinder fate.”

Asshole. I punch him in the arm, hard. “Wow. Thanks a lot. The sentiment is shared.” Rolling my eyes and checking for invisible dirt beneath my nails, I continue. “Anyways, what they’re doing now, Beth and your daddy, is just an enormous escalation of what they did then. I don’t think Mr. John will rest in his grave until I give him a grandbaby - with you.” I look at Kayce pointedly. It’s no secret that Mr. John, and Beth by extension, have been holding out hope that me and Kayce would fall madly in love and have lots of babies. When Kayce married Monica the teasing and hinting stopped, after all Mr. John would never disrespect their marriage in such a way, and when I married Judd it was almost like a fence went up between us, between myself and the Duttons that is, but now that both of our spouses are out of the picture? I’m certainly not surprised the trouble has started back up.

I expect Kayce to splutter and turn a darker shade of red. Despite his gruff exterior he’s always been reserved and easy to embarrass. He surprises me though when he mutters, “Maybe we should just give him what he wants then. Get him and Beth off our backs.”

I shock myself with the cackle that bursts its way out of my body. It bubbles out partly because of the utter glee I get from Kayce having a sense of humor for once and partly from the insanity of such a suggestion. “So you’re telling me, that your solution to getting your daddy and Beth to leave us alone, is to have a baby together? Yeah, because they definitely would have no interest in our love lives after a stunt like that.” I bump his hip with mine. “I can just hear Beth now, ‘I’m thinking a Fall wedding, you look horrible in bright colors and nobody wants to wear a suit in eighty-eight degree weather.’ We’d never hear the end of it.”

Kayce shrugs, shooting me a wry grin. “Hey, if we marry each other at least we’ll know what we’re getting into. No surprises.”

“Yeah, and no sex,” slips past my lips before I can swallow it down. What a stupid fucking thing to say. Good job Caroline, talk about fucking, or not fucking, your best friend some more why don’t you. Now I’m the one who’s blushing. Pink from the roots of my hair to my chest. And what a fatal mistake I’ve made by opening my fat mouth. My whole life I’ve had to be one step ahead of Kayce, embarrassing him before he can embarrass me worse, yet here I am giving him a golden opportunity.

His grin only widens. “I hate to break it to you Carrie, but to make a baby people have to have sex.” He slings an arm around my shoulders, adding insult to injury. “You know when a man loves a woman…”

I elbow him in the ribs before he can continue. He laughs at my embarrassment just as much as he groans from the pain. “Oh shut up.” Now I cross my arms, increasing my stride so that his arm falls from my shoulders.

He doesn’t even have to take half a step to catch back up with me. “Come on Caroline, you know I’m just teasing you.” He pats my back as a peace offering. “Although,” Okay, maybe not. “I have it on good authority that I can please the ladies, so save a horse and all that.” Winking flirtatiously, he belts out a laugh, finally removing his hand from my bare back. And what a blessing that is, because if he had kept touching me while talking about… that, I’d be liable to combust. If Kayce had always been shy and reserved in his day to day life, where I had been bright and obnoxious in mine, the topic of sex is where we switched places. I think calling myself a prude may be a tad harsh, but I certainly have never been one to broadcast my sexual business. Kayce on the other hand has never shied away from flirting, or kissing, or having sex in nearly every one of Mr. John’s pastures - you don’t get someone pregnant at nineteen by keeping it in your pants after all. 

Playing the game I had with Kayce in the bathroom earlier today had felt safe, probably because I was the one in control, but this battle of wills feels altogether different, like someone is poking at an insecurity, at a bruise I didn’t even know I had. It’s confusing at best and humiliating at worst. Throwing his words back at him, I huff, “Now Kayce Dutton, you know this conversation is entirely improper, so I suggest you drop it. And also,” I whirl around on the step I’ve just taken. Thank God we’ve reached the foreman’s house because I don’t know how much longer I can participate in this back and forth before I’m forced to will myself out of existence. “Who says I’d even want to have a baby with you? Good authority or not. I know ya’ll’ve gotten new ranch hands since I’ve last been here, all of whom I haven’t gotten to size up yet. You never know, maybe one of them is babydaddy material.” I poke him firmly in the chest. “Don’t assume I haven’t got options.” Before Kayce can respond I storm up the remaining steps and into the house, kicking my boots off perhaps a bit too aggressively before striding into the kitchen. What I plan to do in the kitchen, I don’t know, but I still don’t know which room I’m staying in and the living room feels too cozy to stew in, so the kitchen it is.

Kayce saddles in much more calmly, but his fierce expression gives his true feelings away. “Are you serious?” He grunts, and if I wasn’t so embarrassed, mad, confused, hurt - for some reason that alludes me, I might have found the rocky timbre of his voice sexy. 

“Serious about what?” I avoid his gaze petulantly, pouring myself a glass of water for a lack of anything better to do.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” He groans, tipping his head back and rubbing at his eyes. “Are you really picking a fight over whether or not we should get imaginary married, have imaginary sex, and have an imaginary baby? You do hear how crazy that sounds?”

“So now I’m crazy?” My voice is cool, and serious, even though at this point I realize I’ve lost the argument. Even though I’ve realized there never should’ve been an argument in the first place.

Any fight Kayce had left in him drains away. I see the moment that it leaves his body, his eyes softening and his shoulders relaxing. “Caroline, honey, what’d I do?”

Almost as if there’s an invisible string connecting us, my body relaxes too. I blow out a breath, dump my water down the drain, and come to stand in front of him. No island between us. “You didn’t really do anything, just poked at a sore spot, that’s all.”

Sensing that this may be a conversation best saved for later, Kayce graciously changes the subject. Scratching at the back of his neck with one hand and gesturing towards the bathroom with the other he murmurs, “Well uh, if you still wanna have that spa night we should probably get going, we’ve got a early morning tomorrow and if I’m gonna let you take my spa virginity we’ve gotta do this thing right.” That earns him a hard exhale, the ghost of what could’ve been a laugh. But he must know not to expect much else, that I’m still nursing my bruised ego, because he carries on. “So why don’t I go get that bubble bath started and you can sort through your uh lotions and potions, decide on how best to pretty me up. And then maybe we could talk, about anything you want.” He begins to walk backwards, making his way towards the bathroom. It’s odd to hear the soft pad of his socked feet on the hardwood and not the click of his boots, but also kind of nice, endearing.

“Okay,” I breath, “Yeah, that’d be - that’d be nice.” I move to walk past him, into the hall where I’d left my bags. “I think you’ve got a bit of a sunburn so I’ll see if I’ve got an aloe mask for you. If you plan on putting yourself back on the market you’d better start taking care of your looks.”

I’m very purposefully facing away from him, so I don’t see the melancholy on his face so much as I hear it in his voice. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s likely to happen. My days of chasing tail are definitely over.” I don’t reply, not too keen on opening that can of worms further, and so an uncomfortable silence settles over us. It’s only broken when Kayce sighs, “Well, I’ll uh, I’ll be in the bathroom whenever you’re ready.”

Still looking down, I pause the mindless shuffling I’d been doing through my bags, “Alright, just give me a few minutes.” Having found the masks I was looking for well before now, I finally rise from out of my crouch, left knee popping in protest. “Like you said, you deserve a proper first spa night,” I turn my body to reveal my profile, pretending to check the label of the plastic tub in my hands, “I’ve gotta make sure I pull out all the stops. You know I don’t half ass anything.” Feeling generous, I finally offer him a small smile, turning to fully face him.

The relief in his eyes catches me off guard. “Don’t I know it.”

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

I don’t know what I expected when Kayce said he’d go run a bubble bath. Too absorbed in my own thoughts, I didn’t consider that such an activity is typically done alone, certainly not with a friend, and even more certainly not with a totally platonic, albeit sexy, boy bestfriend. When I finally make my way into the bathroom however, I’m greeted by the sight of Kayce settled into the comically large clawfoot tub, chin tucked to his chest so that bubbles cling to his beard, eyes unfocused and contemplative. “Didn’t realize I invited Santa Claus.” I joke, at a loss for anything else to say. Too scared to say the wrong thing or ask the wrong question.

At the sound of my voice his head jerks up, the sudden movement sloshing water just shy of the lip of the tub. “Santa Claus?” He furrows his eyebrows. He really does look like a puppy.

“You’ve got bubbles,” I gesture to my chin, miming a full beard.

He chuckles, “Oh, yeah, I guess I just got bored and,” he shrugs, “I’ve gotten used to playing with Tate in the bath. You’re lucky I didn’t break out the bubble mohawk.”

“The bubble mohawk?” I giggle, “I don’t know, I think I’d like to see that actually. Just make sure I’ve got a camera on me when you do break it out, yeah?” Lining my “lotions and potions” up on the counter, I look away, still trying to figure out what exactly is going on here, or what Kayce expects me to do, to say.

He must sense my hesitancy because he volunteers, “I hope I got the water hot enough. I know how you women like to scorch your skin off, but I’m afraid I’m just a bit too delicate.” He’s pushed himself into a full sitting position now. The water pools just under his chest and it takes everything in me to meet his eyes.

“So we are taking a bath together then?” I huff. “Because that’s not weird at all.” Still, I move to pull my blouse up and over my head, clipping my hair up so that it no longer hangs down my back. “And if you’re not actively in pain, then no, you don’t have the water hot enough. But that’s alright, I’ll manage.”

Ignoring my comment about the water, his eyebrows furrow once again in confusion. “Why’s it weird? You’re the one that suggested it.”

“No. I didn’t.” I shoot some side eye at him, because who in their right mind would suggest such a thing. Hopping around to remove my socks before balling them up and tossing them into the hall so that they don’t get wet, I continue, “And it’s weird because usually when grown adults take a bath together it’s only because something else is gonna follow.”

Rolling his eyes, he insists, “Yes. You did. You said you normally take a bubble bath for spa nights, so here we are, taking a bubble bath. And it’s not weird. I’m wearing my underwear, and I assumed you’d wear yours too. It’s no different than going swimming together.” He sounds way too exasperated for a conversation that is this stupid.

Remember how I said Kayce and I have never had trouble reading each other? Yeah I take that back. Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I sigh, “That was not a suggestion. That was a statement. But thank you for the clarification. Now before I literally die of embarrassment, would you like the lavender hair mask,” I forcefully lift one colorful jar into the air, and then another, “or the apple?”

Looking as fed up as I feel, Kayce responds gruffly, “The lavender.”

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

Tag List: @cheneyq @targaryenpower @starset21 @darlingmunson30 @ilovemrytleturtle @screechingtriumphtiger @chlo-feigh @twoheartedfool @softi92 @hannahufflepuff @its-moonblr

[mingsolo]

MOANDAY — night version ⋆.˚

san x reader (f) / genre: smut, pwp, hybrid au / wc: 465, warnings: oral (m receiving), hair pulling, cum eating / r: 21+

part of one of many fun projects over at @pirateeznet with my loves @daemour @flurrys-creativity & @sanjoongie ! hop onto their blogs and read their works which are also delicious :^)

[m.list] >TONGUEDAY

San looked at his bedside clock impatiently. You were too vague with your message, and now he had to wait all night for you to show up, making sure either Seonghwa or Hongjoong woke up or he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

Growing thirsty and to ease the anxiety, he tiptoed quickly and quietly to his shared kitchen to get a glass of water, choking when he came back and found you laying across his bed, all black attire from head to toe, your black ears at the top of your head perked up attentively. San closed his door quietly, trying not to make any sound, but you clicked your tongue.

“Told you you should never lower your guard, Sanie.”

You incorporate and sat on the edge of the bed, walking towards San, leaving the door open, grabbing him gently but firmly by the collar and pushing him to sit on the bed. “I can feel how desperately you were waiting for me.”

“Please close the door, if either of them find you here…” he whispered, but his pleading eyes didn’t work this time. You purr almost mocking him, and get closer, kissing him softly.

“Shh, who’s the one being noisy?” San sighs but goes to kiss you at the same time, forcing his tongue inside you like a starved man. You follow up, quickly pulling down his briefs and taking his length on your hands, finding him already hard. “Be careful with your sounds Sanie, I know how much you enjoy moaning like a whore”

“Don’t do this to me,” San pouts barely in a whisper, knowing he’s done for.

He lets out a breathy moan when you go down and he feels the wetness of your mouth engulfing him, his hand goes to the back of your head, pulling your hair at the same time he presses you more against him. You take him all in, licking and teasing him with your fangs, feeling him tremble. You purr against his cock and San cannot control himself, desperately trying to muffle his sounds but it's no use.

“Oh god, fuck” He grunts and another moan follows. You increase your peace and turn up to look at him, watching his head thrown back, palms on both sides of the bed trying to find support. You smile as you feel the warmth of his cum on your mouth, swallowing until the last drop. With your middle finger you clean the corners of your mouth, watching San drop back on the bed, still enjoying the bliss of his high.

Just then you can hear the door to the next room suddenly opening. Silently you turn fully into your cat form and jump to the open window from where you entered, leaving San until next time with a mess to explain to the two oldest.

@mingsolo please don't repost/translate to any sites.

[hopeluna]

★★

CW: 18+ , strangers to enemies to lovers??, smut at the end, a bit crack to be honest, a little fluff too

♡! hope's notes: i am a clown at writing smut pls ignore <3

m.list

Satoru who you met on a particularly sour morning on your way to work. You swore you wanted to shove something up this stranger's ass when he told you to watch it after accidentally bumping into him.

Satoru who was having the worst day himself. His mind only registered you after you walked away, cursing himself for being rude to someone who looked like the embodiment of beauty.

Satoru who was absolutely screaming inside when he saw you from afar a few days later at a bar. You were less than elated at seeing him. You were merely looking for a peaceful night, hoping to drink your stress away and that dream looked far fetched the more this guy was stepping towards you with a grin.

Satoru who from then on seemed to pop up in the most random places that you were in. He didn't even do it intentionally. But he always strikes up a conversation with you everytime, saying that its destiny that you stumble upon each other so much. You like to think its the universe giving you a sign to kill yourself.

Satoru who you slowly start to warm up to more, despite his more than hyper personality. Suddenly, all his annoying ramblings are not annoying anymore but sort of...endearing? You want to throw up from the warm, gooey feeling bubbling in your stomach everytime you are with him.

Bf!Satoru who you're not really sure how he became your boyfriend. You like to say that Satoru put a curse on you to be with him against your will. Satoru hates that joke, pouting everytime.

Bf!Satoru is definitely the type of boyfriend who steals your lipgloss from your bag when you're not looking any chance he gets. How do you think his lips stay so pretty?

Bf!Satoru will sneak in bites of food from your plate but will pout like a toddler if you ask for some of his.

Bf!Satoru who has a special ability to tell when you are having a bad day and will wordlessly put on your favourite movie in the background and will accidentally find your favourite snacks in the pantry.

Bf!Satoru who never misses the chance to loudly proclaim that you're his partner. Especially when others are eyeing you up.

Bf!Satoru who is a absolute menace with his teeth. He will bite you at the most random times, in the most random places. You have to be careful when he is walking behind you in public because he will bite you hard in the neck in front of everyone.

Bf!Satoru who's bites you only like when he is between your thighs. It annoys you often though, the way he neglects you and instead chooses to place bites and kisses all over your inner thighs.

Bf!Satoru who groans when you grip his hair tightly, shoving his face right in front of your dripping cunt. It makes you tremble, the way he maintains eye contact with you while licking a long strip, his eyes closing and letting out a muffled moan, like he just tasted the world's sweetest honey.

Bf!Satoru who is a little shit, but he's your little shit.

© hopeluna. Do not copy, translate, modify or repost any of my work in this or any other site. Do not steal or modify my ideas/concepts either.

[crystallizedtwilight]

I really like how you draw what you love in the moment. I am making a shift in my drawing interests as well, but I'm starting to feel guilty. My friends and followers know me as the (insert fandom) artist. Deep down I know what I am feeling is silly. Draw what you love! Who cares! I know that is the truth. So my question to you is, what do you do when those thoughts come to your head (if it does)?

What a thoughtful question! Below the cut:

Thank you! I've been on tumblr for 10 years and I have come to accept that I will always receive certain messages when I begin drawing a new interest:

"Guess you don't draw X anymore" / "Why did you stop drawing X?" / "Are you ever going to draw X again?" / "I want more X" / "When can we expect more X?" / "We're never going to see X again, are we?"

Though I've emphasized many times that this is my blog for all of my art and all my fandoms, every time I switch interests I am swamped with messages like this 3-4 months afterwards. It's an inevitability, because new folks may have missed that this is a "my current interest" blog, and old folks may not like the new content you're interested in.

At first it really bothered me, because I'd draw like 150 pieces of art for a fandom for 6 months straight, need a break, and the next day people will be like "guess you don't care anymore" like all the art I did wasn't enough.

The reality is: I like the idea of managing one blog for all of my artwork. I like how low-stress it is to have one, singular place I can still use a playground for my interests. I think it's a concept some people have forgotten is an option. Dare we call it a portfolio.

I am aware that the more "modern" way to conduct things, if you want to build an audience, is to have several blogs, each dedicated to one of your interests. But the very thought of managing 100 blogs every time I got a new interest makes my skin crawl and I know it would instantly suck the fun out of it for me.

I don't want to do that. I don't want to "build an audience", I just want to have a fun space for me. There are already so many social media sites out there besides tumblr, and if you're an artist that uploads to more than one, multiplying those by each of your fandoms? Sounds like more work than I want to do.

I can't remember the name of the artist, but I recall a few years ago one of the artists for the show Korra was bombarded with these sorts of messages when they started posting art that wasn't Avatar-related. And they said something to the effect of "I gave 2 years of my life to this show. Let me explore something new." And I'll never forget that. I feel the same way.

The theme of this blog is "my art". That's it. My interests change, sometimes circle back, and change again. And that's ok—that's how artists keep art fun for themselves. Every artist deserves a playground where they can share and connect with other people who are also just as excited about their newest thing. That's the joy of it.

Keeping yourself in a box just because that's what people want or expect you to do is the death of creativity. I am at peace with people unfollowing if our interests don't align anymore. This was never a blog for catering to anyone but myself, and that is ok.

So those messages don't bother me anymore. I know they're coming. I know they will always be there. And, every time, I will find new folks who do want to share in my new interest. I think in many ways I like starting over again. It feels refreshing.

But more than that, I know the importance of keep a space for myself online where I can be as creative and fun and silly as I like, chasing after the latest thing that is making me smile.

[horrorshow]

Can you talk about why you think blocking and moving on is a bad thing? I thought it was a way to curate your space and avoid drama

idk maybe i'm too idealistic but fandom is a much more friendlier, welcoming, supportive, creative, engaging, active, diverse and interesting space when it's treated like a community where people are encouraged to participate and talk about their interests and where there's space for niche or more unpopular opinions without these people having to worry about being blocked and feel unwelcome by the majority of the fandom they are in. i can't stand how blocking everyone you disagree with has become the first thing to do.

you say its 'to curate your experience'. but blocking people does not only curate YOUR experience. you're also forcefully curating other users' experiences. and not for the better.

people say 'i will block you for literally anything' and then those same people wonder why engagement is down, why no one sends asks, why no one reblogs, why rarely anyone talks in the tags anymore and why this place feels so dead and boring and quiet. i wonder why!!!!

people treat real people as annoying ads they can dispose of at their whim. but that's not how a fandom or a site like tumblr works. (besides, if you really care about people curating their own experience you wouldn't block people. you can filter and blacklist and never see them again while still granting them the same freedom instead of actively making their experience worse.)

you say its to avoid drama. but seeing a post you dont agree with is not 'drama'. and blocking is not solving anything except for you personally. fandom was more fun when we remembered that every user is a real person you share a space with, and probably some mutuals as well, so you find a way to live with each other. starting with a restraining order seems a bit excessive and is not contributing to anything. it's not that hard to be respectful and tolerate others and acknowledge people have different opinions and interests and still co-exist in peace. its not that hard to be nice to people and try to find common ground with them and interact with the stuff you DO like. you do this in every aspect of your real life, so why not online?

i hear you say: 'but that requires WORK and i don't NEED to do any of that bc i can just block them'.

yeah, you can try to create your own bubble and only hang out with like minded people but you wont EVER fully achieve that (no matter how much you block, social media WILL keep feeding you posts you disagree with bc it makes them money). social media WILL pressure you into an 'us vs. them' mentality where you constantly feel like everything online is a threat or an argument you have to win and where being mean and unnuanced gives you the most notes and where you don't even see, let alone be able to treat, other users as people anymore bc you don't interact with them anymore other than to block or fight them. that's not how i want it to be online. it's not fun to me. and maybe i'm a pessimist but i think it will eventually be the death of online fandom and sites like tumblr. look at the state of twitter right now. DOES blocking give you a better experience in the long run? i doubt that it does. overall, i think it makes people even less tolerable and more vulnerable to hate and fear mongering, and social media an even more hostile place.

it's everything i hate about social media and everything i want to fight against and WILL fight against. i won't pretend my meager contribution will change anything, but i LIKE to just scroll past posts i don't vibe with and not see every argument online as a personal offense. it keeps me curious. most posts aren't that bad when you know the person behind it. i mean, you do you, i'm not gonna say what you should or shouldn't do bc that's up to you, but i recommend it: free yourself of the block button and bring back supportive user communities based on a shared love for the same thing and focus on what you have in common with people, just like you would do in real life. save the block button for the rotten apples who DO keep trying to pick fights and exclude others.

(which is, now that i think about it, probably the main difference: most people see the block button as a neutral way to prevent worse. but. that's only the case on an individual level. and treating everything online as an individual choice to which there are no further consequences, especially if they happen on a larger scale, is already a loss.)

[hiraya-rawr]

"in another life, i would've really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you"

synopsis !! all the opportunities he didn't take! forbidden love, status differences, different life goals, missed chances

characters !! zhongli, thoma

note !! please please read thoma's part I really like it for some reason- also everything everywhere all at once was amazing, i loved every second of it and it was just so beautiful! i also love all the cultural references aaaah

+ + +

Z H O N G L I

"Live a human life with me," You had once suggested to Rex Lapis, lounging on a floating island and watching the construction of what would eventually be known as Liyue Harbor.

He turns to you, confused look on his face, "A human life? Honestly, your ideas only develop in oddity over time."

You laugh, shrugging as the wind chimes along with you. Did Barbatos find it amusing as well?

"I'm being serious, Morax! The war is over, peace is settling, any issues can be handled by the humans and we can always guide them from a distance." You smile, "Live a human life with me. We can open a teahouse by the outskirts, we can visit the harbor on weekends, we can age ourselves and spend a human's lifetime together!"

He sighs, turning away, "I'll amuse you and visit you in my human form, but I have responsibilities I wish to take as their archon. You can play human without me."

"Aww, Morax-"

He rolls his eyes, amused, "Human lives are so fickle and short. Should you ever get tired of living their ways, you're welcome to join me in the skies again."

"Hmp. You might just regret not trying with me." You tease, and you—

Were right. He did regret it, because there was no time left for him to try with you. You were gone, eroded like the old immortals, withered in a grave like a human. The immortality of gods like you and him was never physical after all, and your body decayed too soon.

"So, finally decided to join the bandwagon, huh?" Venti grins at the geo archon, sipping from his drink of what's presumably wine. The teahouse is half full, a known heritage site for anyone who knows the history of good Liyuen tea.

"It's an interesting idea." Zhongli simply replies.

"And how are you finding the human life, my dear friend?"

"Strangely. . . I had expected it to be a sociable endeavor," He smiles, strained, "but it could also feel quite lonely."

T H O M A

Doing laundry and taxes with Thoma was impossible in the first place. Not when you were destined to marry someone of the same status; a political engagement which tied you down since the day you turned of age.

For you, this was an unbearable tragedy. The denial of being with someone you love.

For Thoma, this was as simple as nature's course. Of course you would marry a noble! He's simply a commoner, a mere house worker with the favor of his boss. It wouldn't make sense for you to marry him.

And perhaps that's why it infuriated you; how dare he think so little of himself?

"I just don't understand why you're not mad about this! I'm about to be married and you— you won't say anything about that?" You once yelled, frustration built to its peak at his nonchalance.

"(Name)," Thoma says softly, concerned.

"No, don't you start!" You cut off swiftly, "You'll only talk about how you're a commoner and I'm a noble and I'm sick of that! I'm sick of all of it!"

"I just don't know what you want me to say–"

"Say you love me! Ask me to run away!" The words are desperate on your tongue. "Archons, Thoma, I wish you could be more selfish. I'd give it all up for you." You sob, collapsing onto the wooden floor as your legs give out. He immediately kneels in front of you, ready to embrace.

In quiet whispers, he cups your face, brushing tears away with his thumb, "You know I can't ask that of you."

You sniffle, "I know, I know." and "I just wanted you to try."