#need to learn to bite my tongue more often than not

[fireflythecinnamonjollyrancher]

Stuck my big ass nose where it didn't belong this morning trying to help bc someone asked someone else for directions and it looked like maybe there was some confusion but instead of asking if I could help I just butted in and got yelled at so now I'm biting back tears at the damn bus stop and I KNOW I'm about to get on the bus with this person who is (in a lot of ways rightfully) pissed at me and the worst part is I really was just trying to help and meant no harm but intent over impact yk. Anyway happy Tuesday I guess

[elllisaaa]

how about emo hot skater boy Jake with a massive dick energy and idk maybe like a kinda cocky reader who doesn't believe skater boy Jake is huge and he has to show the reader (who might be acting like a brat) what they're missing could be interesting

EMO SKATER!JAKE who's honestly kind of a loser when you really think about it. he's got his friend group and even if he's quite famous for his unconventional style, none of these people are really friends with him. he spends all his days either listening to music and trying to learn guitar, or skating and perfecting his tricks.

what is maddening is how hot he is despite all of that. you cannot help but stare at him every time you find yourself practicing at the skatepark at the same time as him. however, you don't want to let him know that you're kind of attracted to him. so instead, you always tease him about his style - even if it suits him perfectly - or the fact that he's probably still a virgin with a cocky smirk on your face.

jake usually puts up with your bratty attitude because he knows that what you say is not true, and because he's pretty sure you don't think a word of it. he might look like a loser but he's not an idiot - he can feel the way you're often staring at him. however the jokes about him being inexperienced are getting quite old.

"i'm probably the first girl you talked to in real life though, so i'm not surprised you're still a virgin." jake sighs as you grinned at him with a glint of mischief in your eyes, but he has had enough of your temperament. "actually, that's not what they all said when they saw how big i was baby." the pet name he always gives you and that made your skin hitch at the beginning is slowly growing on you, now making a shiver run down your spine. but you try to stay focused, even if the way jake is looking at you and licking his lips makes it hard to concentrate on forming coherent sentences. "pff ! you ? a big cock ? that's pretty hilarious at least, i have to give you that."

jake rolls his eyes at you, and you try not to move as he gets closer, but you still fall from your board. but the boy in front of you is quick to wrap an arm around your waist and save you from an unwanted meet up with the ground. jake takes this as an opportunity to let his lips brush against your cheek, his long, soft brown hair tickling your face he whispers in your ear : "maybe i should show you how huge i am if you still don't believe me. maybe you'll finally shut up once i got your tight pussy stretched open on my dick."

the air around you seems to thicken, and you cannot breathe properly anymore as jake starts to suck and lick your neck. heat rises to your face, both from his dirty proposal and his kisses that make arousal pool into your underwear. "so what now baby ? cat got your tongue ?" his condescending tone as he bites down on the flesh just under your jaw finally shakes you out of your slumber - even if you had to hold back a whimper the moment his teeth grazed your skin. "i bet you couldn't even make me cum, you're such a loser jake." - "bet darling."

that's how you found yourself in the backseat of his car, ass up in the air and face down buried into one of his sweater, his scent maybe driving even more insane than his actually very big cock thrusting into you at a rapid pace. "not so cocky now, uh ? all you needed was an inch of my dick to shut up." and you want to answer, you want to deny, but at this point, you're only able to moan and bite the inside of your cheeks to not let any more sounds slip past your lips. "fuck… you're such a whore y/n."

you feel jake leaning forward, one of his hands still gripping your hips tightly and the other clenching at the door of the car for some more leverage. his firm abs are pressed against the small of your back, and his hot stammered breath is crashing right against your ear - you feel overstimulated in the best way possible. "admit it now baby." - "n-no !" - "come on, you can feel how deep i am right ? you can feel how much i'm stretching out your tight little cunt, don't lie." but you still shake your head, choking on your words as you try to disagree again, instead cut by a loud moan when jake hits your sweet spot. you clench even tighter around him, and he cannot hold back the low, throaty groan slipping past his lips.

"you're so tight baby, must feel good to be this full." yes, it really does, but you don't want to admit it - as if the tears rolling down your cheeks and the way your lips are bleeding from biting them too much are not enough proof. "n-no, don't like it…" - "you're such a bad liar, y/n, it's pathetic." and then he resumes his rhythmic thrusts, hitting your sweet spot precisely each and every time, and it becomes way harder to hold back your noises. your fists close around the material of his hoodie, burying your face into his intoxicating scent in an attempt to drown out your whines. "j-jake… s-stop, i'm…" you have to mentally stop yourself from saying the words, but you can almost feel the way jake smirks against the skin of your neck that he's been biting and licking at. "what was that baby ? are you close ?" you shake your head no again, and jake's smirk is growing as he stops moving completely, cock sitting deep inside of you. "then i'll stop if you don't want to cum."

your reaction is immediate : you whine loudly when you feel him start to pull out, even more tears gathering in your eyes. "no, no, no, no ! jake, wait !" - "what is it now ?" your voice is quiet when you answer, but jake still hears it clearly : "wanna cum… please." the beg falling past your lips entices him into thrusting back into you full force and this time you don't even make an attempt at keeping your voice down, screaming out his name so loud that everyone in the parking lot must have heard you. "admit it, baby. say that i'm big and then i'll let you cum." you don't want to, but the way he's rutting his hips into you and driving you closer and closer to your orgasm is getting to your head, your mind fogged up by lust. "s-so big jake, so fucking big, feels so good… please, please…" - "now that's a good girl. cum."

the simple command is enough for you to let go, his name slipping past your lips again as you grip his cock even tighter, making it almost impossible for jake to move. but the way you become putty in his hands feels even better. what he loves the most though is the way you're too weak to push him away when he thrusts inside of you again, seeing your body visibly tremble as he starts to fuck you again. "i'm gonna give you my cum, make you even more full of me. maybe that'll keep your mouth shut a little longer baby." you hardly comprehend the meaning of his words, but you don't really care when jake is moaning about how good you're squeezing him, you don't really care when he quickly brings you to the brink of another orgasm. you don't really care because you know that you'll be teasing him again the next morning, hoping that he'll fuck you in the backseat of his car all over again.

[crishayle]

Uranus in the houses

Disclaimer.Here I describe only one specific placement, always take into account all your other placements when reading your natal chart, because they can have a greater influence on you than Uranus (in this case)

Uranus in the 1st house:

1.There may be rebel traits in a person's character. He can be straightforward, honest, and sharp-tongued. He will say what others are afraid to say. They are cardinal and categorical in their thoughts.

2.They are really kind. These are people who can help not only their loved ones, but also strangers. They do not tolerate injustice, rudeness and arrogance.

3.Most often they are of medium height, less often tall. Their eyes stand out very much in their appearance, there may be unruly or curly hair (or wavy)

4.They are brave. I will not say that they are not afraid of anything. They can talk about their fears and problems, but they can really pull themselves together and be courageous at the right moment

5.Personally, it seems to me that they are a little nervous and restless. It's just that they literally don't stand still during times of stress. They twitch their legs, bite their nails or pencils, bite their lips or cheeks. If something has offended them, then this thought will torment them for a long time

Uranus in the 2nd house:

1.It's hard for such people to save money. It's as if their money should always move (be spent or invested). At the same time, they damn always find money! They don't have a rainy day stash, but they manage without it

2.A person has a strong, rather restless energy. I wouldn't say it's crazy energy, but people feel this rush when they communicate with you

3.I noticed that such people can see beauty in chaos. For example, they may like disheveled hair, wrinkled or faded clothes. I'm not saying that they are dirty, but negligence plays the role of charm for them. They may have chaos in their bag, makeup bag, closet, etc. They are used to chaos, for them this is the most convenient storage system :)

4.He takes care of the equipment, it can be stored in good condition longer than other people

5.Most often they choose an unusual job. For example, it requires great endurance, dexterity or patience. They don't really like the 5/2 schedule (but consider your 6th house and Mercury)

Uranus in the 3rd house:

1.Personally, it seems to me that they have strange but funny jokes. I can't say that all people laugh at their jokes, but people with placements in Sagittarius/Gemini/Aquarius will be on the same vibe with them

2.They can make long pauses in their speech or quickly change the topic of conversation. They are good conversationalists, because they can discuss anything

3.They don't like big texts, lectures, or a huge amount of information. They prefer concise and more specific texts. I noticed that they choose books and movies very carefully so that watching or reading is really interesting.They may also dislike long films. My friends with Uranium in the 3rd house recently fell asleep on a 3-hour movie. Well, sleep is useful

4.Most often there are problems with concentration. Such people can solve very difficult tasks, but blunt on the easiest ones

5.They are quite independent in terms of learning. Their brains are practical, creative, and NON-STANDARD. Sometimes I'm really shocked by what they can come up with. Scary and cool lol

Uranus in the 4th house:

1.They may not look like their parents, or they may look like distant relatives (but you need to consider whether you have aspects of the sun/moon to the ascendant)

2.Strange relationship with parents. They're not bad, but they're not that close either. Or it can be like a roller coaster, from love to hate(but I would recommend considering your moon as well)

3.Independent and matured early. Their minds are much older than their bodies. A person is not used to listening to advice, likes to make decisions on his own and does not tolerate control

4.Not always, but this is one of the signs of a single-parent family or a person's childhood could have been spent with grandparents

5.There is one caveat. Such a person may be inclined to take too much responsibility and control. Literally bring himself to panic and a state of emptiness when he is not able to help even himself

Uranus in the 5th house:

1.One of the indicators of attractive appearance. You may feel the stares and attention of strangers. There is something memorable about their appearance

2.With tense aspects, it may indicate an unwillingness to have children, or a late pregnancy. Sometimes it also indicates problems with the reproductive system (but you need to take into account the 8th house)

3.This is a person around whom there is always some kind of drama and adventure. I do not know how it happens, but there is always something interesting going on around them, even if they do not want to

4.Girls, if you see a man with Uranus in the 5th house with a bunch of squares/oppositions (ESPECIALLY TO THE MOON), run and don't look back. It's not worth it. They are not suitable for serious relationships, especially for family ones

5.A person who has his own style of clothing or image. They like to focus on details and accessories. They try not to wear the same look every day

Uranus in the 6th house:

1.An unpunctual person. He may often be late or not come to work/study/meeting. A flexible work schedule is more suitable for him

2.If they have inspiration and motivation, then they can complete 1000 tasks in a day, but if they are not in the mood, then they will not do anything. They are literally mood people. I wouldn't say it's always a bad thing. This situation is often found among writers and creative people.

3.Their main advantage is physical endurance. I will not say that they are jocks, but their body can withstand a load that will break any other person. They may not sleep/eat/work/walk longer than ordinary people

4.Such a person may have special esoteric rituals, for example, to attract good luck or money. They also notice the signs of fate well

5.They also don't like talking to someone not on the same level. Status, salary, gender, etc. are not important to them, they will communicate with you like with everyone else

Uranus in the 7th house:

1.Well, there is 100,000% something unusual in the sphere of human love. There are long-distance relationships and a long 10-year relationship without marriage and a relationship with a friend and a divorce and a strange acquaintance with the second half and an annoying ex. It can be anything but a normal relationship

2.A person may avoid romance and love (but consider your Venus). A person prefers to be loved rather than loving someone

3.Such people like emotionally sensitive people. Only people with stressful aspects of Uranus can choose people with mental problems. They may think that their partner is a mysterious and interesting person, but he just has depression or social phobia

4.With the harmonious aspects of Uranus, such a person values his independence in relationships. He clearly defends personal boundaries, while respecting his soulmate. He can immediately break off a relationship if he understands that they are harmful to him

5.Such a person knows how to find an approach to anyone. His circle of friends may consist of completely different and dissimilar people

Uranus in the 8th house:

1.Such a person had a case when he had an accident/was severely electrocuted or burned/was in a fire, etc. Simply put, there was a case when he miraculously survived

2.He understands other people well. Literally can feel other people's emotions. He's good at spotting lies.This is from the indicators of a psychologist/tarologist/astrologer

3.VERY GOOD INTUITION!!!!!

4.Such a person has few close people. He may seem distrustful and cold from the outside. His friends are being tested by time

5.To be honest, people in this position always make an impression after a conversation. Their life experience and worldview are so interesting and unique that their advice can be really useful. I'm not joking or exaggerating.Imagine,even I(Capricorn)listen to their advice

Uranus in the 9th house:

1.This person is like an eternally half-empty vessel. No matter how much knowledge and experience he receives, it is always not enough for him. They are not stubborn in their opinion and can really look at the situation in 360 degrees

2.In combination with a strong Mercury, it may indicate moving to another country or learning another language to the level of a native speaker

3.These are the very people who jump from topic to topic in conversation and forget what they were talking about. Their attention is chaotic, so they can reread the same page a thousand times because they are thinking about something

4.Moral issues are often raised in conversation. They can often discuss justice, honesty and mercy. In general, they believe in humanity and they are really kind

5.They are very harsh and rude when they notice disrespect or lies in their direction. Even if they are silent, they will make such a face that you will blush with shame. They clearly set their personal boundaries

Uranus in the 10th house:

1.Good logical thinking and imagination. It is often found among workers in the field of IT, engineering,design

2.Such people almost always rise rapidly through the career ladder and professional development. They really strive to be a master of their craft, they are considered an authority and are asked to teach beginners

3.By the way, good teaching skills. Such a person can explain very complex things in understandable language.

4.They try to live by the principle of let everything go as it should. They strive to make the most of what they can and try not to worry about problems that are beyond their control. They are quite stress-resistant

5.Most often, they do not work in their specialty. They could change a lot of jobs, and in each they developed quite successfully. They like to try and learn something new

Uranus in the 11th house:

1.Most of the time, his friends are creative and unusual. I would even say crazy a little bit. Such a person is attracted to cheerful, energetic and fervent people

2.With tense aspects, it may indicate dependence on other people's opinions and low self-esteem

3.Good leadership and organizational skills. Such a person is energetic and creative, knows how to communicate with a crowd of people and hear everyone's opinion. Many of them are activists at school or university

4.Such people rarely lose their virginity before the age of 18. They prefer to carefully look for the very person with whom they will feel not only a physical, but also a spiritual connection (for them this is a mandatory point)

5.With tense aspects, it may indicate social phobia or fear of loneliness. A person literally cannot be in silence or alone with his thoughts

Uranus in the 12th house:

1.Very good intuition, but there may be neurological problems (sleep problems, seizures, nervous tics, etc.)

2.Very kind and even too kind. They tend to put their own needs below those of others. They do not like to quarrel and will rather keep silent so as not to create unnecessary noise (but also consider the Sun and Mercury)

3.From the outside, such a person gives the impression of an educated and calm person. They are like your beloved grandfather, to whom you can always come for hugs and interesting stories.They are very comfortable!

4.On the other hand, people with this placement claim that because of their social flexibility, it is difficult for them to understand who they really are. The influence of other people is so strong that it is difficult for them to hear their inner voice

5.They prefer oversize clothes in calm tones(but also consider your Venus). Loose or wavy hair suits them very well. Sweaters or cardigans fit them best!

[whoskimii]

How bad I am craving a choso fic where you two made a bet on how long he could go without slamming himself inside of u

And after what ,two days he just grabs you and eat you out till u pass out

Like he refuse to get away even if you push him bc of the over stimulation

He'd eat you out ,on the edge of the bed,from the back WILL MAKE YOU SIT ON HIS PRETTY FACE ‼️‼️

Then when you finally are awake ,hell apologize and finally pound into you ( poor boy needs his release too)

yummy <33

⋆౨ৎ˚ notes > choso x you. he's kindaaa subby. mommy kink...????? hehe <3 tell me if i missed anything!! ^^ ౨ৎ warning : you may have butterflies in your belly while reading this!! 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

choso, as needy as he was, was utterly convinced that he could go a long time without feeling the need of burying himself into your tight little heat. "can't be that hard." he shrugged.

after all, he spent so many many years without someone to love. so when yuuji introduced you to choso, aiming for the two of you to become friends, you became more. more than simple friends.

choso finally had someone to love, to cherish, as much as you loved and cherished him. he began learning the concepts and bases of humanity with you and he instantly became putty in your pretty hands.

when you introduced him to cuddles and sex, poor baby just lost his mind :( you cuddled more often than you fucked made love but whenever you two would get all steamy and nasty, choso would always convince you to cockwarm him to sleep after you were done.

"i heard some guys talk about something in public," he mumbled against your neck as you caressed his soft hair. "they were talking about trying not to have sex with their girlfriends for as long as they could. wanna try too..."

even though his words surprised you, you only giggled. "really ? you're sure you'll last ?" choso hummed, tightening the hold he had around your waist. "can't be that hard."

you smiled. "alright. but that also probably means that you can't touch yourself, pretty boy." he lifted his head, looking up at you with wide eyes. he seemed like a lost puppy. "really...? i can't touch myself ?" you shrugged. "yeah. what's the point in being able to touch yourself if you're trying to last as long as possible without sex ?" choso sighed. "oh... you're right... i'm sure i can last at least... two weeks." two weeks ?

that's why you found yourself sitting on your boyfriend's face as you rode his nose as he overstimulated the shit out of you. you already came at least three times. and only on his tongue.

he didn't last two weeks. he lasted two days.

he whimpered underneath you, tongue eagerly lapping at your pussy. "m'sorry, you just taste so good..." his nose bumped against your clit, which caused you to grip the headboard as you moaned. "i tried... really tried..." he mumbled, his bulge growing painfully hard.

you rode his nose, biting your lip. "cho', s'too much..." you sighed. "y'taste so good... wanna stay like that forever..." he babbled, pussydrunk. "fuck, baby, m'boutta cum again..." you whimpered.

at your words, he perked up. his tongue lapped at your pussy more vigorously. "yeah ?" he breathed. "pleasepleaseplease, just... just cum... need to taste you so much..." you hummed, riding his nose. "s'only been two days, baby..." you mumbled. "yeah, s'way too long... need you too much to go without your pussy for a long time..."

"baby, cho', m'coming..." you could feel your pussy clench around his tongue. your eyes rolled back as you came. choso whimpered and drank every drop. "y'taste so good... makes my mouth all tingly..."

after a while, you fell asleep as you cuddled with your boyfriend. however, he was restless. he could feel his cock throb under the blankets. he desperately needed to be buried inside you.

with a soft needy whine, he kissed your neck. he licked your soft skin and climbed on top of you before he parted your legs and settled between your thighs. he pulled his cock out and pumped it a few times, enough to get it even harder. he slid your panties down and smelled them, all the while sliding himself inside you. he let out a quiet whimper into your panties and began thrusting lazily. "m'sorry... m'sorry, don't mean to..." he babbled against your neck.

as you began stirring awake to the pleasant sensation of being stretched out by a girthy cock, your hands instantly found their way to his hair. "baby..." you breathed sleepily. he whimpered softly as your slippery insides clenched around him and he lifted your shirt up and began sucking on your nipple like a baby. "m'sorry, mommy..." he mumbled against your nipple. you gently caressed his hair, shushing him. "shh, it's alright, baby... it's all fine... mommy's right there..."

"gonna cum..." already ? of course. choso missed the feeling of being buried inside you, which made him even more sensitive. "you can go ahead, baby..." you sighed. "ngh..."

after a few more shallow thrusts, his hips stuttered and he hid his face in your neck, spilling himself inside you. you moaned at the feeling of being filled and he peppered kisses all over your jawline. "thank you... thank you..."

yeah, and he thought he could last at least two weeks.

i love subby chosobear :33

⋆˚࿔ kimi 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[obsessedwithhotmen]

⋆⁎✿ Peaky ⇢ *- Giving Them Head -* ⇠ Blinders ✿⁎⋆

⇾ (Peaky Blinders) multiple characters x reader

⇾ Summary: Peaky blinders characters reaction to you giving them head.

⇾ Warnings: nsfw, oral (male and female receiving) rough (head shoving, hip thrusting) use of pet names, semi public, exhibition? Degrading words.

Aberama Gold:

⇾ Aberama felt the need to be sweet and gentle with your pretty young mouth.

⇾ He’d guide you along with soft words of encouragement, letting you know what you should do.

⇾ “There you go, my love…” or “your doing so good f’me.”

⇾ He’d be relaxed against the chair or bed he was sitting on, arms out behind him as he watched you through hooded eyes.

⇾ His eyes would never stray away from you face.

⇾ Aberama loved the way you looked giving him head, he liked watching as your eyes either watered after so long, or fluttered closed in order to not distract yourself.

⇾ Besides from speaking, I can’t imagine him being very vocal, other than letting out quiet grunts that would edge you along.

⇾ You would make it your mission to try and get a moan or at least a groan from him, but it was proven to be very difficult.

-

It wasnt often that you and Aberama got to have privacy, but when you did you made sure to enjoy the time and make it worth while.

As soon as you both got time alone, you immediately dropped to your knees after pushing him down into the chair in your shared caravan and before you knew it, your lips were wrapped around his length.

He watched lovingly as your head bobbed up and down on his cock, enjoying the way you took your time in order to draw out his orgasm.

Aberama would let his eyes shut briefly before opening them again once he realized so he could focus on on your face. He watched as your eyes squinted the more you took him into your mouth. “S’alright, love. Don’t have to go all the way.” He would breath out, brushing away a strand of hair that fell before your eyes, covering your expression from his watchful gaze.

“Feels so good.” He’d rest his hand on your cheek, caressing lightly as you continued.

Once he’d cum, he’d help you up to your feet, letting you sit down in the chair. “Take care of me so well, don’t ya?”

Ada Shelby:

⇾ At first she would be shy, biting her lip to contain her moans, nervous to have her legs spread for you, covering her face whenever she’d be embarrassed.

⇾ After the first couple of times of giving her head, she would begin to open up to you literally…

⇾ Ada would be more open to trying things with you until she learns how much she enjoys your head in her thighs with her hands in your hair.

⇾ She constantly would be tugging and pulling at your hair to guide you in the position she wants you in.

⇾ There is no such thing as teasing Ada Shelby.

⇾ Her sweet moans would fill the room, encouraging you to do more with your mouth and tongue.

⇾ You’d swirl your tongue around her little bud which would send a string of moans to exit her lips while she would grind against your mouth.

-

“Y/n!” Your tongue flicked her clit repetitively before returning to her hole. Slurping sounds could be heard from down below as you sucked on her pussy, encouraging her orgasm the more you continued.

Your hands found her stomach as she arched off the bed, holding her down. Once you were certain she wouldn’t lift her hips again, your hand would trail up her stomach to her chest, squeezing gently at her tits before pinching her nipples, causing higher pitched moans to fall out of her mouth.

You couldn’t help but giggle at her reactions making her tug roughly at your hair, this time earning a moan in response from you at the feeling of roughness from the girl beneath you.

“I’m…” she trailed off, eyes rolling back as she breathed heavily, “I’m close, love.” She would moan.

This time, you allowed for her to grind herself against your mouth, letting Ada use you to get herself off.

Her hips would stutter as an orgasm washed over you until she rode out her high and was breathless against the bed.

Arthur Shelby:

⇾ Arthur was notorious for being very rough in bed, and you’d expect nothing less when it came to giving him head.

⇾ Depending on how experienced you were, he’d be nice at first (not shoving your head, not thrusting his hips)

⇾ But once he was certain that you were used to sucking his cock, was when Arthur Shelby would truly come out.

⇾ Arthur would be relentless with the way he’d fuck himself with your mouth, practically using you as a warm hole to satisfy his needs.

⇾ Obsessed with making you gag.

⇾ He’d even enjoy the feeling of your teeth lightly grazing his length.

⇾ Not afraid to make noises, especially when it came to grunting. He had nothing to be ashamed of, after all it wasn’t him that was being fucked.

⇾ If he wasn’t using his hips (if he was sitting down) he’d guide you by your head, holding you down and making you take everything.

⇾ If you weren’t swallowing his cum afterwards, than you were doing something wrong.

-

You were struggling to breathe through your nose as you were held all the way down until he was balls deep in your mouth.

Sounds of gagging could be heard as you were forced to choke around his cock. “Keep going love, fuck me.”

Once he finally loosened his hold, you would pull yourself of his dick, breathing heavily as you used your hand to get him off while you recovered.

He’d smile down at you, loving the tears that trickled down your cheeks. “Almost there, sweetheart.” Arthur would groan.

You would sit on your knees, mouth wide opened as Arthur finished himself off, waiting expectantly.

And as his cum hits your tongue, you would immediately swallow it whole, knowing that if you didn’t then it would be a long day for everyone.

Bonnie Gold:

⇾ Bonnie is a mixture, he gives me very soft dom vibes. Like he could be rough, but in a gentle way.

⇾ He’s not shy about what he wants and after your comfortable in the relationship than he won’t be afraid to ask certain things from you, so long as their within your boundaries.

⇾ While Bonnie is (in my head) a giver more than a receiver, he does thoroughly enjoy the times you give him head.

⇾ He doesn’t expect you to take all of him, nor does he push your head down, but he will rest a hand in your hair, simply just holding it there for comfort.

⇾ He is a man that loves to have his balls fondled with, so if you give him head while you softly massage his balls then he might just burst within mere seconds of you touching him.

⇾ Ensures that your having a good time as well, 69….

⇾ Doesn’t expect you to swallow his cum… unless of course you want to.

⇾ Bonnie is definitely a vocal guy, not afraid to praise you and not afraid to be loud depending on who could potentially be around.

⇾ If his family’s around then he will try to be quiet for your sake, but if it’s other Peaky Blinders than he tends to be louder, for his sake in order to let everyone know what they’re missing out on.

-

You couldn’t help yourself after watching Bonnie once again win another boxing fight with ease, he was just too hot for you to handle.

As soon as he entered the changing rooms you had practically jumped in, smothering him in kisses before helping him clean up any wounds or blood before getting straight to business.

This time he didn’t bother trying to stop you like he normally would, as a matter of fact, he watched with excitement as you dropped to your knees and pulled out his length, immediately placing it in your mouth.

You hummed around his cock as he called out your name, feeling a sense of pride wash over from his reaction.

“You’re perfect…” he slurred, eyes fluttering shut from the overwhelming pleasure.

He had his hands fisted by his sides before eventually they crept up to your head as he held your hair back and out of the way for you. “Love you.” He groaned, stuttering in the slightest as your hands met his balls.

His hips jerked unintentionally and a string of ‘sorrys’ could be heard from the moaning man. “I’m gonna cum, love.”

He wasn’t able to protest to you allowing for him to cum in your mouth as he was hit with his orgasm, body tensing at the feeling rushing through him.

Finn Shelby:

⇾ My shy boy.

⇾ He’d like to pretend he knows exactly what’s going to happen and that he’s tough like his brothers to not be seen as weak (for example moaning etc)

⇾ But the second your tongue touches his tip, Finn is a wreck.

⇾ Definitely cums in mere seconds the first time, but he’d learn eventually.

⇾ Doesn’t like being rough with you, despite his brothers encouraging him to be as rough as possible, he likes knowing your having a good time as well.

⇾ Will always give you head in return.

⇾ A bit ashamed of being very vocal, tries to keep it to minimal groans, not often moans and a lot of suppressed grunts.

⇾ Doesn’t say much other than your name and ‘fuck’ when he groans.

⇾ Likes to cum on your face rather than directly in your mouth.

-

Finn was on his last straws as he attempted to draw his orgasm out, he didn’t want to cum to quick like the last time.

His bottom lip was between his teeth, his back was pressed against the bed as he avoided watching you go to work on his cock, knowing he would burst as soon as he opened his eyes to look at you.

He hissed as he felt your nails dig into his thighs as you pushed yourself further down his length, the sounds of you choking around him being his final straw.

Finn sat up with haste, shoving your head off of him right as his cum started to trickle out.

He jerked himself off over your face, eyes locked on the way you opened up wide for him, tongue waiting patiently for his seed.

“Fuck…” he groaned, squeezing out the last drop.

He breathed heavily as he laid back down on the bed, chest rising up and down. “Your turn now.” He smirked, watching as you laid beside him.

And just like that, he was up and ready to go again.

Isaiah Jesus:

⇾ An absolute whore of a man, but I love him so it’s okay.

⇾ Has high expectations for what he wants and what you should do for him.

⇾ A man of teasing.

⇾ Will happily deny himself of pleasure if it mean my teasing you with his cock.

⇾ Likes to embarrass you and will make you beg to suck him off. “What do ya’ say, sweetheart?” Or “beg for it.”

⇾ Not a head pusher but a hip thruster on occasion, but most the time he likes to just leave you to do all the work.

⇾ Isaiah definitely brags about your skills to his mates, wants everyone to know what they’re missing out on.

⇾ Tells other women that offer themselves to him that they can’t suck his cock as well as his partner can.

⇾ Teases you about it in front of his friends and is definitely into having you suck him off in a relatively public area.

-

“Please, Isaiah,” you begged, lips pouting as you stared at his cock that he held in the grasp of his hand, shaking it and teasing it in front of your face. “I’ll be good,” you told him, reaching a hand up only for him to smack it away.

“Can’t hear ya’, love. Try again,” he smirked, watching you with amusement in his eyes as your pleading.

The whine that escaped your lips had him tapping the tip of his cock on your lips, tongue darting out to taste the tiny bit of precum that stayed on your bottom lips.

“Please, Isaiah,” you tried again, “I want your cock…” you trailed, mouth watering at the sight of his veiny dick being teased in front of your eyes.

“Alright, open up,” your mouth opened immediately, eyes closing as you awaited the warm pressure to hit your tongue, to which you immediately moaned at the feeling. “There ya’ go…” he hissed as your mouth closed around his dick.

Isaiah groaned as he felt the vibrations through his cock from you moaning around him, enjoying the feeling and taste on your tongue. “Such a little whore for my cock, aren’t ya’?”

John Shelby:

⇾ Like Isaiah, he is very cocky and likes to hear you beg for his dick, gives him a little power trip every time.

⇾ Wont move at all, likes to make you do all the work so he can watch you desperately trying to get him off.

⇾ Sits back, hands behind his head and relaxes while you do all the work for him.

⇾ Expects you to suck him off whenever he’s horny, especially if you’re out in public.

⇾ Will pull you to a private area and expect you to get on your knees for him.

⇾ “Come on, on your knees.”

⇾ Will watch you with a smug smirk on his face.

⇾ Expects you to look at him when you suck him off.

-

Your knees pressed harshly on the stone cold floor of the Garrison bathroom, your hands were placed on John’s thighs as you took him down your throat, head bobbing back and forth.

“Look so pretty f’me. Cock shoved down your throat.” John cooed, smirking down at you as he teased you. “You can take a little more, can’t ya’?”

You nodded your head to the best of your ability, humming around his length as you pushed him further in. “There you go.”

You knew he wouldn’t move, he much preferred letting you do all the work while he laid back and relaxed, but you still couldn’t help placing your hands on his thighs in a way of holding him back.

You kept moving your head, taking his dick in your mouth, feeling the warmth of him weighing down on his tongue. He was getting closer, you knew he was based off the way he grew restless.

You paused as his release came, and it was then that he held your head down, keeping you as close as possible as he shot his load down your throat.

Michael Gray:

⇾ doesn’t often want a bj, most of the time he just wants to fuck and prefers to do so, nothing to do with your skills, just a personal preference of his.

⇾ But when he does, depending on what kind of work day it is, he makes sure your entirely comfortable, won’t push your head down, won’t move his hips.

⇾ But if it’s one of those stressful days where it seems everything’s against him, best believe he will take out his stress on you.

⇾ If you tease him or do something to annoy him, best believe he will give you attitude back, and if you ask him then he will call you names.

⇾ Is a people pleaser so he will do whatever you want him to do, even if it requires being a bit mean to you.

-

It started off slow and passionate, you had been taking his length in your mouth, enjoying yourself as you sucked him off, but you couldn’t help but begin to feel a bit bored, as Michael had seemed distracted.

You did what you had to do, gave him a bit of lip before Michael was returning back the same attitude, using his ‘boss’ tone on you.

“Go on then, you want me to cum? Then fucking make me cum.” He growled, tapping the tip of his dick against your bottom lip as you whined. “S’all your good for.” He didn’t mean it, you know he didn’t, but boy did it turn you on.

You placed him back into your mouth, this time feeling a lot more enthusiastic, moving at a quicker pace. “Much better, eh? Don’t have to listen to you speak now.”

Thomas Shelby:

⇾ not nice at all, never nice.

⇾ Will force his cock down your throat, and won’t feel bad about it.

⇾ Like Arthur, he is obsessed with hearing you gag around his size, doesn’t think it’s good unless he hears you.

⇾ Would sit at his desk doing work while you suck him off, or if he’s having a meeting with someone over the phone.

⇾ The only time he won’t forced your head down is if you’re sucking him off under the table with one of his business partners sat opposite him.

⇾ Likes to watch you squirm so he will speak of you in front of his family or just other people in general with absolutely no shame.

-

You moved slowly, bobbing your head at a rate where you wouldn’t be choking around his size. Tommy was having a meeting with some man about business, but even that couldn’t stop him from denying his needs.

He ordered you to his office and demanded you sat under his desk while he conducted business with the stranger.

You lifted your head up, prepared to give yourself a breather while you stroked him up, but all of a sudden, Tommy had shoved your head down, clearing his throat and making some noise in order to cover the sound of you gagging. “You can have 5% and I’ll give you a bottle of my whiskey.”

You could hardly hear the response of the man over the sound of your own gargling, but you knew he wouldn’t be happy with deal. Tommy let your head move, but ensured that your lips stayed wrapped around his cock. You paused your movement, using this time to breath through your nose whilst your hand fondled with his balls.

Suddenly you were let up for air, breathing heavily, when Tommy slid out from his desk. “Come on, out you get.” He moved out of your way. “When I come back, I want you bent over this desk.”

[pickingupmymercedes]

She's here and she's not only ours - Lewis Hamilton

Series: She's here and she's ours / She's here and she's not only ours / She's here and she's just like you / She's not here, but she'll be / She's here and she won't be the only one / She's here and he won't let her give up / She's here and so is he

pairing: Dad!Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

wordcount: +1k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

Navigating the journey from being a couple to becoming a family is often likened to entering a whole new world—one filled with unpredictable challenges and profound joys. The radiant 7-month-old girl had effortlessly woven herself into the fabric of your lives, captivating not only you and Lewis but everyone who crossed her path. Yet, adjusting to new routines, shifting priorities, managing emotional and physical changes, and, most crucially, cultivating a deep bond with your child were aspects of parenthood that no book, class, or well-meaning advice had adequately prepared you for.

And so, the real test of parenthood often lay in learning to prioritize.

“Oh my God, she’s growing up so quickly!” Susie exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she entered the living area of your apartment, making a beeline for the giggling toddler seated in her bumbo seat on the kitchen island.

“Please, don’t remind me. Time is flying by too fast already,” you replied, your smile widening as you watched your baby recognize Susie and reach out to be scooped up.

“I’m sorry for dropping by unannounced… I just... I had to know why,” Susie said, her expression curious and concerned.

You had expected people to comment and be surprised, but you hadn’t anticipated the attention coming so soon, even before you and Lewis had a chance to share your news.

“So, I take it everyone at Mercedes already knows?”

“More like everyone on the paddock, probably,” Susie confirmed.

“Do you remember her first few days? When she struggled to gain weight and every day felt like a battle?”

The first inkling that something was amiss came mere hours after you had returned home with your newborn daughter. Her incessant cries and insatiable hunger, even after an hour of breastfeeding, had raised red flags.

You had been warned that the initial days would be challenging—that you were now solely responsible for nourishing a tiny human. So, you soldiered on, suppressing your growing panic and tears, dreading the 40-minute feeding intervals where you’d bite your tongue and cheeks to keep from crying.

You tried every trick in the book—increasing your water intake, warm and cold compresses, dietary changes, pumping between feeds, consulting lactation specialists, and even consuming magic lactation cookies. Yet, your milk supply remained stubbornly low.

The sense of failure weighed heavily on you; your primary role was to nurture your baby, something you had done successfully during pregnancy. Instead of relishing the joys of new motherhood, you felt like a failure, a lesser mother to your daughter and a villain to your husband's fairytale of having kids.

Lewis was acutely aware of your distress and tried to be supportive. Despite knowing, as doctors and specialists had advised, that you needed to supplement with formula for both your daughter’s and your own well-being, he refrained from pressuring you. Every night he would feel as though you were punching him in the face when you went out of his sight to cry, or how his chest would tighten when he carried your screaming daughter in his arms, knowing she needed more, from him and from you. Still, he didn’t have in him to lecture you, yet again, on how that little girl needed more, not when you were giving your life and sanity away for her.

It wasn’t until the day before her second week checkup that you broke down. You knew the scale wasn’t going to give her much more grams than she had the past week, way less than she deserved and the added burden that he would be going for his first race of the season in a couple days had you reaching your breaking point.

Seeing Lewis on the sofa, looking worried and worn-out, you collapsed in front of him, letting your tears flow freely. He held you, comforting you with gentle whispers, and you both agreed that transitioning to formula was for the best. Despite the months of hearing about the benefits of breastfeeding, you had come to understand that sometimes the most challenging part of parenthood was knowing when to stand your ground and make the best choice for your family.

“We don’t want his job to feel like a burden every weekend,” you said.

“So, the Hamiltons will be a staple in the paddocks?” Susie asked, her approving smile revealing her pride.

“Life doesn’t always go as planned, does it?” You shrugged

“The media is going to love that smile,” Susie cooed, her attention directed at the toothy grin of your daughter.

“Yeah… She won’t be only ours, but Lewis needs her as much as she needs him. I guess it’s a small price to pay,” you replied, smiling at your yawning daughter in Susie’s lap, her little hands rubbing her eyes—a clear sign that her naptime was due.

“Please, let me. She still loves Disney songs, right?” Susie absentmindedly asked, already heading towards your daughter’s room, laying the toddler on her cheast and ready to lull her to sleep with a familiar melody. As you watched, you couldn’t help but marvel at how your daughter had already captured so many hearts at such a young age.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk

If you'd like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[lynnlovesthestars]

Could I request headcanons for Harleep, Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor with kind and patient gn s/o? This is quite self-indulgent of me because I have been told I'm too nice & so patient so I'm curious how they would react XD

first of all sorry for being so late, but my small brain has to process things multiple times to make sense, so i wrote this like... 5 times? So it takes me a while, but i hope that waiting was worth it.

Also i saw you sent a second ask to see if i recieved this one, so ill put dammon and rolan there cause this is starting to get a bit long:3<3 thank you so much for your patience!:3

Taglist: @sessils @spacebarbarianweird

Headcanon: BG3 men with kind and patient s/o. (pt. 1)

Zevlor:

Zevlor is emotionally a wreck already, he considers kindness a virtue and it definitely makes him swoon when he notices you put extra care in making sure he's treated with kindness. At the end of the day, he basically got bullied on all fronts when all he really wants is to prove himself worthy of the title he carried for so long.

Zevlor has a short temper too, and he appreciates so much your effort and patience in dealing with his outbursts, whether they are of rage- not towards you of course- or of sadness, you offer always a shoulder for him and he cherishes it so much.

He is lowkey jealous when he notices that your kindness is not mostly exclusive to him, he has learned that people can abuse one's patience and care, and 1. he doesn't want you to get hurt, 2. he wishes your kindness was maybe reserved to him. Call him selfish, but after being deprived of it for so long, he is hesitant to let go of it.

Astarion:

Initially he would be very wary, in his experience being nice always lead to him getting hurt, so why would he trust someone who's default reply is kindness? At the end of the day the last time someone was '''''kind''''' to him, he was turned in a vampire spawn, so he takes it extra slow, he has just regained control over himself, he won't blindly accept kindness. He's lowkey afraid you are just part of a bigger scheme that will bite him in the ass and leave him shackled and caged again.

Once he gets accustomed to your kindness and finally accepts it, he revels in the kindness you offer and your patience, especially the smallest gestures like opening a door for him. He will literally melt for it, he's already smitten, your kindness leaves him like mush in your hands.

Nevetheless every good side, comes with a negative one. He is dead afraid your kindness will bring you to get hurt. He often reminds you to be weary and keep all your kindness for people you trust (HIM), rather than going around and helping every lost soul that asks for help. He will fight you on this a few times- especially if you do get hurt or it is obvious you are about to- he will not bite his tongue and keep it for himself, and that's one of the moments when he's glad you are patient.

You understand where it comes from and you try your best to find a solution that would make both happy. Your patience of course doesn't stop there, he knows he's an handful: he carries an heavy trauma baggage and he has a feisty personality, yet you always show him you don't mind, that you are there for him and that he can take all the time of the universe to sort his problems out.

Wyll:

Wyll would find it so endearing, how you are ready to go to someone's aid, you stop on your tracks to support someone in need, and he would love seeing you being kind to everyone. It's probably one of the reasons why he falls in love with you. Unlike Astarion he encourages you to be kind to everyone, cause he considers it a virtue, he incourages you to be the best version of yourself, and he reminds you that if you do get hurt, he will be there to pick up the pieces.

As far as patience goes, he's grateful to the moon and back, he knows he is an handful, especially if he doesn't break his pact with Mizora and has to leave more times than ever. He makes sure once he's back though that he makes up for lost time, whether it is with gifts or by taking care of you.

Haarlep:

Harleep is so used to Raphael that honestly he's taken aback at first, living in the hells means that kindness is hard to come by and around Raphael? It's either a trick or a miracle, so he brushes it off, not repelled like Astarion would, but definitely not eager like Wyll either.. he would be probably the one that takes it as it is, just.. that. But when he gets used to it? He becomes unsufferable. So unsufferable that he goes around demanding Raphael to be treated with kindness and patience! He purrs whenever you are nice even the smallest, thanking you and praising you like a goddess. He even tries to be nice himself- to you only- and despite it has to be and effort, since he has never been exposed to much kindness, he does become a little more mindful, even asking before taking your form or just with small acts of services.

One time Rapahel makes sure to send a message to you through him. "Tav, Raphael asked you stop being nice to me, cause if i demand it from him as well, he's going to turn me into fertilizer", message delivered with a pout that begs exactly the opposite.

Harleep is another that is deeply afraid of your kindness. Let's be real, you can defend yourself as much as you want, but people tend to use people and your kindness is one of those characteristics evil people would pry on- he knows well since its literally part of what he does, and a facet of what Raphael does as well. He probably scolds you a lot for this reason, he does it in a sweet way- don't get me wrong- he sugarcoats the shit out of it, but he will let you know when you are about to get in peril or you are too careless with your kindness.

Gale:

Gale is touched by your kindness, already from the first days after meeting him.

You had helped him out of his blotched portal, you fed him artifacts, you didn't question his secrets or push him to reveal anything, and he doesn't give that for granted. Once he's closer to you, and he learns that you are unconditionally kind to everyone, he's scared.

He starts warning you to be a little less nice, to use your judgement before you blindly trust a stranger, but he doesn't push it past a warning. As much as he wants to protect you, he doesn't want to take away your chance to grow from your errors.

In matter of your patience he's so grateful, he spends days thanking you when he's still afflicted with the orb condition, he cooks as a form of apology or thanks depending what he did, he gets baths started for you, he's treating you as a queen/ king. He alread would do it, but with you? He's even more protective, he almost feels like he has to match your kindness and patience with as much attentions he can muster.

Halsin:

Halsin is a fair man you think he wishes everyone was kind, but he actually wants you to be fair, he wants you to be mindful of who you give kindness to, he wants you to be a reasonable judge rather than unconditionally nice cause it is the way of the nature as well. Nature is not only nurturing and lush, it's also the poisonous vipers and herbs.

Does he appreciate when you are kind? Absolutely, he thinks it's the best gift Silvanus has ever bestowed him, but it doesn't take away the fact that he wants you to be treated kindly as well, so the moment someone crosses the line and starts abusing your kindness or becomes rude, he's definitely stepping in to s h a m e the other person. "You are lucky you have met Tav, cause they are kind, but nature wouldn't be so understanding and patient" He says it with a rage you rarely see in his eyes.

He will do his best to remind you to surely practice kindness but also to be mindful who you help and who you are kind to, cause there's always rotten that can harm you, and lowkey if you get hurt he will invite you to take back what you gave.

Despite this Halsin considers kindness the bare minimum a person should be, and what stops him from encouraging you to be kinder, its just the knowledge that you might get hurt.

[sweetsilver-if]

To Taste Sweet Silver

Play here [Updated 8/10/24]

Word count (w/code): 16.9k

[F.A.Q] [Spotify][Pinterest]

"The silver of the fruit tastes sweeter than the iron of the blood." There is a City in the center of the remaining world, said to house and protect the last gift from the Old Gods before they vanished. Your mother had told you stories of it as a child, before she died. No one is allowed to enter the City of Forgotten Silver without extensive documentation and proof they are worthy. Not everyone is allowed to grace divinity. There is no reason for you, a nobody, to be here but you've managed to worm your way in. You know the consequences if you get caught, and you know to keep your head down as often as you can. The risk to be here is great, for the City is desperate to protect what remains of the past. Everyone who has dared to take the Old God's last gift, a fruit with silver skin, has had their execution made a spectacle. For this fruit is the key to reviving the world to what it used to be. Or so it is believed. It's why those in power will do anything to protect it. You know this, but you have a plan to attempt its theft anyway. For without it, how else will you finally bring this world to its end?

To Taste Sweet Silver is an 18+ Gaslamp Fantasy IF about putting a crumbling world to rest.

✽ Play as a fully customizable MC: gender, sexuality, personality, skills, etc.

✽ Decide how you're going to survive in the City; will you fake an identity and do earnest work, rely on thievery, or freeload off anyone willing to take pity on you

✽ Master magic, hone your physical skills, or expand your worldly knowledge

✽ Discover why the Old Gods abandoned the world in the first place, and learn about the New Gods that have taken their place

✽ Decide your reasons for wanting to end the world. Will you really go through with it?

Caspian Sinclair

The City Mage [M]:

A man who's more important then he lets on. The only reason you know he's a Mage is because you sense it on him. Despite his kind but stoic nature, you hesitate to approach him because if he finds out who you are, he will kill you. If only he wasn't also the holder of key information you need. He never seems opposed to answering your questions or pointing you in the right direction, making him your main source of information about the City of Lost Silver. However, the badge he wears reminds you to still your tongue, and watch your questions.

Whisper

The Jester [NB]:

Xer part of a night show, the sort outlawed in the City due to being propaganda about the Old Gods' departure. When xer not part of the show, xe have a traveling food cart xe only run at night. Although it's best not to draw attention to yourself and get involved with someone like xem, you can't help but wonder what's hiding under the mask. Especially with xer strange charm, odd sense of humor, and ability to show up at the worst of times for you.

Vivienne Silver

The Empress [F/trans]:

The youngest Empress ever crowned, and only due to the tragic assassination of her family. She's an elusive figure, never seen in public, but worshiped all the same. The people whisper her suffering is the reason why the City has seen such prosper in recent years, mythologizing her as a martyr. As an outsider, you have no strong opinion of her, until strange circumstances bring you together. She's exhausted and weary and as willing to bite as she is to be gentle.

Mourning

The New God [M/F/NB]:

Your benefactor and the sole reason you managed to get into the City. They found you in the outskirts one day and handed you a pass, telling you they can help you get what you want. You haven't seen them since. They're elusive and strange, and while they claim they're a God, you're not sure they're something quite so holy.

CW: Gore, violence, torture, cannibalism, death, religious trauma, explicit sexual themes, mtc

Note: This is a side project and won't be updated frequently. My main project is Burning Academia!

[mothiir]

penance

the black templars discover human women. Nothing nsfw, only vaguely lewd, with canon typical violence and religious themes. Possibly will follow up with a smut if the spirit moves me

alternative summary: where is this strumpet so I might detest her with my own eyes

—

—

Isaiah takes his helm off to inhale the sweet scent of battlefield smoke. The sky is ruddy with dawn, and the last of the heretic cities is nothing more than smouldering rubble, the would-be rebels against the Emperor’s Will either dead or soon to be. Those too young, or too elderly, to have served a meaningful part in the uprising may yet find redemption as Chapter serfs or servitors — after all, there is little point to justice if there is no mercy to go alongside it. 

Sweat gilds his high cheekbones, and drips down his nape. Taking a moment away from his brothers to say his private prayer of thanks to the Emperor is one of the small ways Isaiah keeps his sanity during these long campaigns. He would fight and die beside his brethren with pride — and yet if he has to hear one more of Reuben’s jokes, he may consider —

No. No, none of that, not even in the privacy of his own head: he must be grateful, always. Mindful and grateful of the Emperor’s blessings. Reuben is a blessing. A hardship, yes, but so often blessings take the form of hardships; of lessons to learn. Reuben is an excellent soldier, and an exercise in patience. 

Perhaps it is the thought of Reuben’s damned puns that drives him further than usual, or the desire to admire the sight of a battle hard-fought. Either way, Isaiah ends up a good five hundred feet from camp before he quite realises it, crunching over charred bones and burned, unrecognisable standards.

Then: a sound. Thin, high, and vaguely organic. At once, he replaces his helmet, Captain Ezra’s words echoing in his memory: boy, there is no point prancing around like the main character in a holo — the enemy does not need to see your pretty face, and nor do I.

Anyway. The noise. His scanners alert him to a life form, hidden behind a pile of corpses. Humanoid. Rabbit-hearted, and trying very hard to remain unseen. 

He upholsters his bolter, and stalks forwards: a faceless, merciless instrument of the Emperor’s wrath. 

—

The clouds hang thick and red, like they have absorbed all the blood spilt today, and the heat is oppressive. A thunderstorm is coming; you taste it in the air. Soon, the rain will extinguish the last of the flaming rubble on this planet you once called home. It will fill the empty eye sockets of those who died for the delusions of your rulers. It will wash the land clean. 

And you doubt you will see it. 

As the Templar yanked you from the rubble, your shoulder had popped from its socket with a sick, wet crack; you had only kept yourself from crying out by biting into your tongue. Now your right arm hangs useless by your side, radiating bright veins of sheer agony. You daren’t make a move to cradle it, to ease your discomfort. 

“Your world is guilty of the crime of sedition,” intones the Templar, his voice as final as a tombstone falling into place. “Your leaders rebelled against the Divinity of the Emperor, and —“

”And I should die for it,” you manage, through lips gummed together with dried saliva and ash. “Because we let it happen.”

He pauses. The subtle tilt of his helm could be curiousity; could be an invitation to continue; could be nothing at all. But you are not dead. Not yet. Something in your chest is kindled, and you remember when you were little, at a school now nothing but ash, how your teacher would complain: that girl, she always has something to say.   

“We let it happen,” you continue, not sure if you are arguing for your life or begging for martyrdom. “We saw the upper echelons turn to Ch — the accursed powers.” Thou shalt not speak the name of the beast, you remember reading somewhere, lest thou invite it in to feast. “And we did not stop them. We worked away, heads bent and faces averted, and we obeyed orders, and the rot spread and ruined our world. I — I thank you, for your cleansing fire, for your — for His mercy. For bringing the Light of the Emperor to this place.”

You cannot curtesy, not in this shape, and so you drop straight to the ground, knees smacking into hard stone. You bare your nape, awaiting judgement, awaiting the blade, your heart singing against your ribs, that desperate song, that too-late plea: oh I want to live. Emperor above, let me live. 

—

“That is a woman,” says Reuben, like he has never seen one before. 

”Yes, Reuben, that is a woman.”

“In our dormitory.”

”Yes,” Isaiah says. ”She is in our dormitory.”

As this world lacks any proper infrastructure — due to the intensive bombing campaign needed to bring it back to the Emperor’s Grace — the Astartes have retired to their battle barge, as Marshal Ezra Rothenberg plans their next movements. 

Isaiah is honoured to consider himself part of the Edessan Crusade. There are more than two thousand of his brothers dedicated to the continued extirpation of Chaos from the Edessan system: a task that was predicted to take ten solar years, and yet is proceeding far ahead of schedule — due, in no small part, to the enthusiastic participation of the new recruits Guilliman so kindly provided them. If Guilliman hoped that the Primaris Marines would take the edge off the Black Templar’s well-known zealotry, he was swiftly disappointed. Within a few days of arriving, the only way to differentiate between the new recruits and their more seasoned brothers was size. 

Isaiah shares a barren dorm with Reuben, and three other brothers. They sleep on plain metal bunks, with a rough woollen blanket and a thin pillow. Other Chapters, Isiaiah has heard, are so decadent and spoiled as to have duvets — which are sacks of feathers — and sometimes even something called a mattress? Absurd. He pities his fellow Primaris Marines, shipped out to such degeneracy. He hopes that they can cultivate an appropriate sense of duty and decorum in the older generation. How can anyone value such petty things as comfort when the Emperor’s enemies still draw breath?

You are sitting on Isaiah’s bed, the blanket around your shoulders, your eyes wide. You have not spoken since he brought you here — barely whimpered when he popped your shoulder back into place. 

“…what is her purpose here?” Reuben says. He sits on his own bunk, opposite Isaiah, his afternoon reading (a hagiography of one of the more exciting saints) sprawled forgotten on his lap. 

“Chapter serf,” says Isaiah. 

“Do we need more serfs?”

”Yes. We do. The ones we have are — uh —very devout — “

The pair grimace. The fact that the serfs spend so long in prayer is to be admired, but it doesn’t often leave them much time to perform their duties. Isaiah is sick of doing his own mending because Serf Osric and Serf Jean are once more faint from fasting and all-night vigils to the glory of the Emperor. 

“Did the Marshal allocate her to you?”

Isaiah pulls an interesting series of expressions. ”Not…exactly,” he allows, unwilling to lie, and yet not wanting to admit the truth. “But he has been…busy, of late.”

”Yes. Busy. With crusading against the Emperor’s enemies.”

”Too busy to be concerned with this sort of thing,” Isaiah says, hesitantly, dangling the bait before Reuben, waiting for him to take it. Reuben leans forwards to better observe you. Isaiah feels a strange twist of pride when you don’t cringe from his regard, but meet his dark eyes with your own, your chin tipped up, your fingers curling into the blanket. Then you suddenly seem to remember who you are, and where you are, and drop your head in supplication. 

“Yes,” Reuben says, slowly. “Far too busy to be concerned with this. Don’t want to bother him.”

Isaiah utters a fervent prayer of thanks to the Emperor, feeling only a little guilty at thanking Him for his brother’s aid in deceiving their Marshal. But it wasn’t really deception, was it? They weren’t lying to him at all — they just weren’t telling him! Completely different. 

“Exactly! It’s beneath his concern.”

”She’s beneath his concern!”

In total accord, both Templars grin at each other, before hurriedly smoothing their faces into expressions of solemn piety. 

“Yes, brother. I am glad that the Emperor has seen fit to deliver unto us a — hang on, can you sew?” Reuben says, addressing you directly. You glance up at Isaiah, then stammer:

“Y-yes my lord —“

“Excellent.”

Reuben kicks up and off his bunk, rummages in the steel box that contains all his worldly possessions, then throws a wad of fabric at you. It unfurls into a dozen pairs of socks that look very much worse for wear.

“Start with those. Then my tunic needs restitching — the Emperor’s Most Holy Iconography is starting to get a bit tattered. Then —“

”Brother Reuben, you cannot hog the new serf —“

”I am offering her the chance to redeem the sins of her forefathers and mothers with holy labour.“

“Well, yes,” Isaiah protests. “But the holy labour cannot just be confined to your menial tasks—“

”Why — do you have menial tasks that need attending to?”

”Yes!” Isaiah says, thinking of his own increasing pile of ragged undergarments. “You can mend Brother Reuben’s socks, and then you must attend to my laundry —“

”And then she can mend my tunic —“

”No, then she must pray,” Isaiah says, belatedly remembering the importance of even the most lowly baselines in adding their voices to the Emperor’s endless praises. “And attend chapel —“

”Where Marshal Ezra may behold her?” Brother Reuben says. “The serf that we do not strictly speaking have, as she has not been allocated to us?”

Ah. Yes. He had forgotten about that.

”She must pray while she works,” Isiaih amends. “And abase herself before the Emperor’s mercy.”

”Yes. But pray quietly.”

”Do you know the appropriate psalms to recite while conducting your redemptive labour?” Isaiah says. You chew your lip.

“The correct litanies while uh…mending the socks of the Emperor’s chosen may have not been included in my education,” you say. Isaiah sighs. Truly, you came from a blighted world. 

“You will learn them,” he says. “The Emperor will guide your tongue. If you fail to learn them then it is a sign that you have not received His Grace, and in that case fear not — we will deliver unto you the Emperor’s Mercy.”

“She will learn them,” Brother Reuben says, with a fervent and touching belief in humanity’s dedication to the Emperor.

 Or, perhaps, a fervent desire to have socks without holes in them. 

—

And so it goes. The Emperor sees fit to decree that the brothers that share Reuben and Isaiah’s quarters remain on the planet to build a chapter monastery there, taking advantage of the natural resources that are now free for use. No new brothers are installed in the dormitory — a great shame, of course, but it does have the benefit of ensuring that Brother Reuben and Isiaiah do not have to face awkward questions about your presence. 

Isiaiah has never been in close contact with baseline humans before, save the serfs aboard the fleet, and he knows that it is his duty to ensure that you are free of Chaos’s taint, and suitably devoted to the God Emperor. As such, he ensures that you have the appropriate reading material, and tests you to ensure that you can recite the benedictions. The first time you stumbled over an incorrect word, he had sighed deeply and sorrowfully, reaching for his bolter. Brother Reuben had dragged him to the side and explained — in hurried whispers — that humans do not have the same eidetic memory as Astartes, and the misstep was not indicative of a lapse in faith but simply a sign of your humanity. 

Fascinating. 

There are other baseline issues that surprise both brothers. They sleep perfectly well on their hard metal bed frames, and their serfs often deliberately braid thistles into their blankets in order to better scourge their flesh for the sin of being mortal. You, however, suffer greatly for the first few days. You end up with deep purple shadows beneath your eyes, and you wince when performing even the simplest of tasks. 

“I am sorry my lords,” you stammer, when Isaiah confronts you on your constant yawning. “It is just — I am cursed to be a woman, and thus I do not have the fortitude that you have, and my body is frail and weak and cannot find rest in the blessed conditions that you enjoy.”

Reuben magnanimously permits you the use of a blanket and two of the pillows left by his brothers. Isaiah thinks that pandering to your body’s frailty could well be slowing your path to redemption, but he bows to his brother’s greater knowledge. 

He is perturbed by how much you rest — as much as six hours a night, if you are permitted to sleep continuously. Once again, Reuben explains that this is normal for the baselines. Besides, if Isaiah wants devout serfs, he is more than welcome to once more entrust his care to Osric and Jean. 

Isaiah stops questioning your rest hours swiftly. He does not want to go back to the days of having to convince a flagellant to polish his pauldrons. Without the brothers seeking them out, the old serfs seem happy to spend most of their time in the chapel, or wandering the halls while caning themselves and loudly declaring the Emperor’s benevolence to all. 

Yes, Isaiah wants to say, we know He is very benevolent and very merciful. He also wants you to do your damn jobs. 

The first real challenge occurs ten days into your time aboard the barge. You drop to your knees before Isaiah, assuming the penitential crouch you always take on when you address either of them. The sight of you prostrate at his feet — spine a neat curve, head bowed, hands clasped — always makes Isaiah’s stomach warm and twist. He enjoys seeing you so keen to atone, so eager to please the Emperor, and to receive  His mercy. 

“My lords, I humbly beg your permission to take a moment to clean myself — I have not managed to do so since leaving my accursed planet, and I fear that I dishonour your presence by performing my duties while unwashed.”

”You have washed yourself,” Isaiah says, frowning. He’s seen you wipe your face and underarms with a wet rag, and you wash your hands every time you go to the bathroom (a sensitive experience for all concerned, given that one of them has to escort you to the nearest convenience, and the other has to stand watch to ensure no one sees you).

”Yes, but — a shower, my lords, that is what I am asking for.”

Isaiah sniffs the air thoughtfully. True, you do smell a little sourer than you did previously, but he has lived with far more odiferous people; Brother Reuben during his ‘bathing too frequently is decadent and an offence to the Emperor’ phase for one.

(That particular penitence had been ended when Marshal Ezra had thrown Reuben bodily into the icy plunge pool and announced to all that the Emperor suffered enough on His golden throne — the Templars did not need to add their stench to the tribulations He endured.)

”Humans require more maintenance than Astartes,” Reuben allows. “It cannot hurt to permit her to bathe.”

Still, they do not want to risk taking you to one of the communal showers, nor do they want to send you off to the serf quarters. Several of their brothers are already suspicious of their suddenly-improved attire, and the last thing either of them want is to face questions about your presence — or, worse still, a request to share. So Isaiah fetches a large copper tub used by the medicae for those too unwell to stand upright to bathe, and fills it with water, and Brother Reuben donates one of his scraps of yellow soap. 

“Th-thank you my lords,” you say, from your usual prostrate position; then you stand, a little unsure, eyeing them almost expectantly. The tub is set in the middle of the dormitory; Reuben is reading one of his favourite scriptures, while Isiaiah tends to his bolter. ”Uh — is it okay if I —“

You gesture at your smock. Isiaiah blinks at you. 

“Are you asking permission to bathe? I have said that you may — do not waste my time with needless questions.”

He turns back to his bolter, wiping the sacred oils onto the stock, murmuring the appropriate incantations to appease the machine spirit within. A flurry of fabric; a splash; a pained squeal. 

“This water is ice,” you yell, and Isaiah, startled, looks up. 

His hand remains looped around the bolter, polishing up and down, up and down — but he finds he cannot tear his gaze from you. The water comes up to your waist, but the rest of you is bare, your flesh goosepimpled from the cold, your arms clutching your torso. Your elbows press under your breasts, pushing them up, where they glisten under the harsh dorm lighting. As you shiver, one nipple flashes.

Brother Reuben stares as well. 

“Emperor preserve me,” he mutters, and Isaiah comes to his senses, turning his eyes aside. 

“Woman!” he says, sounding only a little strangled. “Cover yourself!”

Another splash. When Isaiah peeks up — just to check that you have ceased to offend the Emperor with your naked bosom — he is gratified to see that you are neck deep in water.

”S-sorry my lords,” you say, teeth chattering.

”You are a Chapter Serf of the Black Templars,” Isiaha says hotly, his grasp tightening on the bolter, his strokes growing surer and stronger, seeking solace in the familiar rhythm. “You must act in a way that is fitting for your station! Do not flaunt yourself so! You must conduct yourself with - with decorum, and modesty. Be demure! Mindful!”

Isaiah, a little breathless after his holy vitriol, looks to Brother Reuben for moral support. Reuben is looking fixedly at his book. 

“I saw nothing,” says the other Templar. “I am blind to that which does not beatify the Emperor Himself. The nudity of a serf has no bearing on my day’s prayer. It is as insignificant as the passage of a beetle along the floor.”

”Is that why you are reading your scripture upside down?”

Reuben does not look up, even as he turns the book the right way around. 

“Brother Isaiah, if you polish that gun any harder it is liable to blast a hole in the wall.”

”It is not loaded, Brother Reuben,” Isaiah snaps. “I am conducting my daily worship to the Machine Spirit.”

”Is that what you call it?” Reuben mutters, and Isaiah elects to ignore him. 

—

“Where did you obtain the uniform for her?” Isaiah says, the next day, his voice hushed. It is just after morning prayer-drills, and the pair are walking back to their dormitory to change, before their lunchtime prayer-drills.

”I — just from the other serf’s laundry,” says Reuben, casting a quick look around. The halls of the battle barge are more akin to that of a cathedral than a space-ship, with huge domed ceilings, and statues placed at regular intervals in well-lit alcoves. Isaiah normally takes great comfort in the stern regard of his immortalised forebears, but for some reason today he feels their gaze like a brand, like he is a neophyte and they are watching him commit some secret and terrible sin. 

“They do not fit her,” Isaiah says. Reuben frowns. 

“What do you mean?”

”I mean — “ Isaiah pauses for a moment, struggling to find the words. Emperor grant him Reuben’s lack of observational skills — truly, his brother is a sterling example of blind faith. “I mean…this morning. When she bent over to pick up the scripture. Her skirt. It — moved in a way that displayed her rump in a way that is most unbecoming to a serf.”

Reuben exhales, his jaw ticking minutely. “Oh? I did not notice. I do not make a habit of looking at the serf’s rear end.”

”I was not looking at her rear end!” Isaiah whisper-shouts. “It was…just there. Wiggling.”

”Wiggling?”

”Yes, wiggling.”

”Is our serf distracting you from your duties, Brother Isaiah?” Reuben says, in a tone of concern so genuine it feels like mockery. 

“No! I just — it would bring shame upon our crusade if our serfs are not modestly attired.”

”I quite agree. However, I would argue that our serf is very well attired. Covered up almost to the throat.”

”Almost,” Isaiah says. “When she bends over to wash her face in the morning, if you stand at the incorrect place in the dormitory, and you have the misfortune to be looking for a book on the other side of the room, and then you find yourself looking downwards at the incorrect moment so you may observe the flagstones, you will be cursed with a view straight down her sleeping smock — and you will see both her breasts, exposed quite fully! It is revolting. A blight upon the Emperor.”

”How hideous! We must of course remedy this at once.”

”At once.”

”However,” says Reuben, as they round a corner, approaching their dormitory. “In order for me to avoid benighting mine eyes with such a distasteful view, I would much appreciate it if next time the serf washes her face you were to demonstrate the precise angle that I should avoid standing at. For I only wish to see what is pure and just in the eyes of the Emperor, and in order to do so we must have a full understanding of where to avoid looking.”

Isaiah pauses for a moment. After all, is it not his duty to guide his brothers when they seek to avoid sin? “Yes,” he says. “I will ensure that I show you most where you must not stand, and where to avoid casting your eyes. And — if I may make a suggestion?”

”Of course, brother Isaiah.”

”Perhaps it is not the uniform. Perhaps it is the way the serf has learned to stand and bend. Coming as she does from such a depraved world, riddled with heresy, it is natural that she does not know the right and proper way for a servant of the Emperor to move. Perhaps we should ask her to bend over a few times for us, and thus we can best advise her on how to avoid unnecessary…wiggling.”

Reuben grins at the thought of guiding a sinner onto the path of the righteous. “Yes, brother Isaiah. I do believe we should.”

[archangeldyke-all]

I’m honor of my first “ramble” about sevika…

I was wondering.. if you could write about performing anal on sevika with a strap but also using a separate dildo to use on her cunt..

Goddddd her ass is just so fucking unbghhhhh in those fuckingn pants… godddd she deserves everythingggggggggg

(I don’t think you got my last request cause tumblr’s being weird but you’re such a good author!!! One of the best and utterly amazing!!)

EHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEH (and thank u so much this is so fucking nice!!)

men and minors dni

sevika didn't bottom much before meeting you.

to be fair, before you, she didn't do nearly as much laughing as she does now, she didn't smile so much, she didn't eat this often or well...

but you changed a lot of things for her. sevika feels safe with you.

safe enough to bottom just as often as you do. safe enough to admit how much she loves feeling you inside her. how much she loves the stretch, the fullness, the girth.

safe enough to blink up at you shyly one night, a blush high on her cheeks as she whispered out a sweet question-- 'c-can you touch me... here?' -- as she dragged your hand a little lower than her dripping cunt.

you happily obliged. both you and sevika were shocked at how quickly she came with two fingers in her ass and your tongue on her clit.

and now sevika's obsessed with anal.

it's just another thing she's learned about herself in her time with you; she's realized she likes cuddling, that she hates iceskating, that she actually doesn't hate dancing, and that, you know... she's a bit of a slut for anal.

which is how you find yourself here, your wife's legs hooked over your hips, your strap buried in her ass, your second finger slowly working its way into her cunt.

sevika's a fucking mess. she gets so fucking leaky when you're in her ass, you've bought a specialized super absorbant sex towel for this exact reason.

she's been on edge all day-- you'd gently fingered her ass open this morning before shoving one of her biggest plugs in her and sending her off to work, laughing as you watched her waddle awkwardly down the driveway.

you've only been inside her for a few minutes, but there's already a puddle under her ass.

"i-i can take more!" sevika whines. you chuckle.

"i just got this one inside you baby. just relax 'n feel good for me. i promise i'll fill you up like you need." sevika huffs up at you. you snort and pull your fingers out of her cunt to give her clit a slap. "brat." you sigh fondly.

sevika squeaks and squirts a little, and she glares up at you. "put your fucking fingers back in." she demands.

you roll your eyes but oblige. "so needy." you whisper as you sink two fingers back into her cunt, your hips keeping their steady, slow, shallow thrusts.

she's so fucking tight with your strap in her ass, you can feel the tip of your dick moving inside her against your fingers. and she looks delicious. she's drenched in sweat, a blush running all the way down her chest, her thighs and abs twitching as her hands clench the plush towel underneath her.

and fuck her cunt.

she's squelching and dripping around you, her pretty clit's poking out of it's hood begging for attention, her walls slowly stretching around your fingers as you fuck them deeper and deeper inside her.

"i'm gonna--" sevika whimpers before cutting herself off with a bite to her lip.

you pull away completely, leaving both her holes empty.

"what the fuck?!" she growls, shoving up on her elbows to glare at you.

you're too hypnotized by the sight of her pretty holes, both clenching desperately around nothing, just begging for you to fill her again. "you're so fucking pretty." you whisper.

sevika's frustration melts and she collapses against the bed. you gently guide her legs to the mattress, pinning them where they're spread as you duck down to lick one long stripe from her twitching clit, down her cunt, and to her ass.

she's tugging at your hair the second your face is between her legs, babbling nonsense as she tries to get your tongue inside her ass.

you just giggle, the vibrations making her shiver as you kiss and suck her rim.

"pl-- bab-- i wan-- fuck! c'mon!" sevika whines. you chuckle and stand back up again, smiling down at your squirming wife.

"what do you want?" you ask as you trail a featherlight finger over her clit. she's so fucking sensitive it makes you a little crazy.

"fuck me!" sevika demands, even stoming her foot on the mattress a bit. you burst into laughter, and sevika huffs a tiny laugh at her behavior before reaching up and tugging your hand back down toward her cunt. "please." she whispers sincerely, blinking up at you with her wide, sparkly eyes.

fuck. how can you say no to that?

you easily slide three fingers inside her cunt, fucking her until she's shivering before you guide the tip of your cock back inside her.

the moment your tip slides in, sevika's clawing at your shoulders. "more! more, all of it, i need more, fuck me! fuck me!" she begs.

you lean down and kiss her lips; and then follow her request, snapping your hips against her ass as you start to work your fingers against her g-spot.

"fu-u-u-u-u-u-ck."

"there you go, baby." you sigh as you kiss her cheek and lick up a bead of sweat on her temple. your thighs and wrist are soaked in her cum, and her cunt is trying desperately to pull your fingers deeper. "you ready?" you whisper, gently thumbing her clit.

sevika cums. you laugh as you watch your wife fall apart at just the question, and finger her through her squirting, whimpering, desperately-nodding-yes orgasm.

the moment sevika's eyes snap back open, she pulls her claws out of your shoulder and fumbles for the the dildo resting beside her, practically flinging it at you with her excitement.

you giggle, gently pulling your fingers out of her cunt to catch it. it's smaller than your cock, and sevika was begging for you to use a bigger one, but as much as you love indulging the size queen in her, it's her first time doing this.

which is why your hands are shaking a bit as you try to guide the dildo to sevika's cunt. your fingers are still so slick from being inside of her that the didlo slips right out of your fingers. "oh, shit." you curse.

you and sevika both fumble to catch the fluorescent pink dick-- the absurdity of the situation hitting you with full force as it slips flops around in the air.

you both burst into laughter, and you have duck down to nuzzle against her throat, muffling your laugh against her sweaty skin as she tries to contain her giggles.

"you okay?" you ask. sevika snorts and nods, kissing your scalp.

"yeah. you?" she asks.

you take a deep breath and push back up off of sevika, smiling down at her. "i'm perfect." you say.

she huffs and rolls her eyes, then twines her legs around your waist, your cock shifting a bit inside her ass. you both hiss, and then sevika grins wickedly. "here." she hands you the dildo again. "now fuck me."

you smile, bringing the dildo to your lips, spitting on it and moaning. beneath you, sevika shivers, and her eyes grow impossibly wider as you push the cock between your lips, getting it wet for her-- not like she needs it.

still. it's worth it for the way she's looking at you as you bring the dildo down to her cunt.

it slips in obscenely easily.

you nearly cum the moment it does.

"fuck sevika-- how do you feel baby?" you ask.

"i-- ah!" she's gasping and clawing at the sheets. you stop thrusting, and sevika's eyes snap open, glaring up at you. "fuck me!"

you grin down at her and start thrusting your hips slowly as you inch the dildo further and further inside her cunt. you're hypnotized, honored, and hornier than you've ever been in your fucking life as you watch your wife take you. when you finally push all the way in, you stop thrusting, and blink down at sevika with a smile that's surely bordering on insane.

"you're all full of me." you whisper.

sevika cums at your words.

you giggle, drunk off the experience, and start to slowly fuck her with both your cock, and the one in your hands. each thrust has her voice rising in pitch-- one long squeal echoing throughout your bedroom as she squirts and shivers around you.

when she's done, the first thing she does is reach up and pull you down, wrapping her limbs around you like a koala. she's still shivering and heaving, and you still your movement, resting against your wife. "sevika?"

"one second." she says.

you give her time, kissing against the fat of her breast, drawing patterns into her ribs. 'i love you.' you mouth against her neck.

sevika must feel your lips, she must recognize the movement, because she pinches your ass and giggles. "i love you too." she says.

"are you okay?" you ask-- knowing she's probably sick of the question but not caring in the slightest. sevika snorts and smacks your ass right where she's just pinched it.

"just wanted to remember how it feels to be so full of you." she whispers.

now it's your turn to cum at her words.

it catches you entirely off guard, but the moment the words leave her mouth you're gasping a quiet "fuck!" and grinding helplessly against her.

sevika bursts into giggles beneath you, kissing you as you fall apart.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @claude999 @nhaaauyen

[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (Part 8)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 📍 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds

Part 8 - Trust

Detective Brady is sharper than you initially thought, though Alastor is (seemingly) unfazed by the threat. While you both explore the idea of ‘home’ a familiar face shows up at your apartment.

「Warnings/Tags: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, Detective Brady exists a lot and maybe too much, fingering lol, phone calls, almost our first fight, stress, Disney mom rule, Ruth is pretty alright for now, Brenda」

forgot to tag you in the deleted scene for TRDFAHS

M👻D☠️N👽I😈

Your mother always said ‘Anger is your sword and shield’. So you postured yourself as someone mad. One hip out, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

“Sir I don’t appreciate a man in a lady’s space.”

Brady bit his tongue, wanting to say something sharp.

 I don’t see any ladies here.

 He met the glares of the women behind you. “Ah, well-,”

“Do you really expect her to leave in her robe?”

“Aren’t you the man whose been stalking her?”

“Autumn I’ll go with you.”

“You want her to get into a strange man’s car?”

He felt like a fox about to be pecked to death by the hens.

“Now-! Alright I’m seeing I maybe,” he set your shoes down and slid past you and between the other performers, “got a little eager to speak to you.”

“Does Janet know you like to hang around burlesquers?” Someone said as his back was turned.

Like having ice water poured over his head, his shoulders tensed as did his tone. “I’ll be right out the door.”

You tried to hide the tremble in your hands, but failed. Ruth slid beside you, “What do you need?”

A phone. But the cord wouldn’t reach that far. You wanted to tell Alastor. You needed him to know that detective had you cornered and knew of his existence.

“Could you stay with me? I’m not going anywhere. But I’ll feel safer if I’m not talking to him alone. In case he tries to drag me out. He seems a little off his rocker.” You were genuinely scared he would grab you by the arm and pull you out of the theater if he didn’t think anyone would see. 

She patted your back, the others filing in to continue with their work of getting dressed and undressed. You took your time, trying to plan what you would say.

Brady felt an embarrassed blush take hold as the women moved past him with scowls and tsks. He could feel a little bit of his sanity slip back now that you were in front of him. 

“I have some questions about Tommy. I’ve been trying to talk to you for weeks. We can head down now.”

Oddly, your mother also taught you, ‘You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.’ 

She didn’t always make a lot of sense, contradicting herself daily. 

Time to use the tried and true tactic, “I am sorry, detective. I had some trouble recently and have been keeping to myself… going home as soon as possible. Just trying to keep my nose clean. So to speak.”

Brady watched you look up at him with a face his daughter often gave him when she was in trouble. But you weren’t a child and you surely weren’t his daughter. “That’s no excuse to dodge me.”

Your turn to bite your tongue, “Of course, sir.”

Ruth was… confused. She’d never seen you so obedient. You had more venom in your voice after taking a hit from Tommy knowing a third could be close behind. Why were you being so small?

“Are you ready to go?” He fished in his pocket for his car door keys. 

Ruth felt the need to interject, “She’s not going anywhere.”

Perfect.

You nodded, “I won’t be out at night, sir. You know better than most about the dangers.” Your dangers. Your darling Alastor.

“No, no no,” an unhinged chuckle from the fraying detective, “You’re not slipping away again. I have my car, I’ll take you there and bring you home.”

Ruth looked to you, then back to the detective, “Is she under arrest?”

Brady rolled his eyes, “Of course not.”

“Then? What gives you the right?”

Technically, nothing. He didn’t need to talk to you. His lead still stood. But maybe you’d slip and say something to expedite his search for the radio man. Maybe this would only end with Tommy. But he felt something tickling the back of his skull. An urge to not stop pushing.

“I’ll meet you at the station tomorrow morning. Is it the address on the card you gave me?” Maybe you would, maybe you wouldn’t. You just needed him gone so you could call Alastor. 

He was shaking his notebook, key looped onto his finger. A nervous habit. “You still have my card?”

A smile, “Of course. In case any news came up. I’d have called but I didn’t realize you were so worked up.”

He scoffed. He wasn’t worked up. He was just annoyed. Maybe a little rougher in demeanor than usual but whose fault was that?

“If you don’t turn up tomorrow-,”

Ruth, taller than most women and some men and wide at the shoulders, leaned in.

Brady’s eyeline adjusted from yours to Ruth’s. Skye Scraper wasn’t just a pun, it was a cruel nickname she took ownership of. “Finish that sentence.”

The conversation ended there, Brady leaving with a huff.

You’d memorized the number the night Alastor gave it to you, too scared to write it down. He warned you though he wouldn’t be the one to answer.

“Is Alastor still there?” You tried to smile so you sounded less panicked. Ruth mouthed his name and pretended to swoon as you held the phone close to your ear. 

“Uhh depends, who is this?” Brenda answered, a voice you’d never heard but a woman Alastor had primed you for. 

“….”, but why hadn’t you thought through this part, what name was safe? Which was recognizable? You didn’t like the idea of this woman knowing your name. “Tell him it’s Autumn.”

“….” 

You laughed at Ruth, waiting still for a reply from Brenda, “Hello?”

“Is this a crank? Autumn like the season? I-,” a commotion, “Hey there! No. I don’t know. Well it’s past hours anywa-.”

Alastor was lying across Brenda’s desk to reach the phone, having wrestled it from the woman’s grip, “I’m here. What’s wrong? I was about to leave.”

“I’ll walk home tonight.” It hurt, physically hurt, to say it.

Alastor tried to keep his face neutral, “Oh.” Nervous fingers twirling the cord, “One second.” 

Harsh whispers, some clicks, and he was back, “I’m in my office. What happened?”

“Yeah Ruth is with me. It’s okay. I’ll call you like normal tomorrow?” 

“Should I swing by your apartment?” He considered doing it regardless of your answer.

“Ah, no. I wouldn’t recommend it. I’ll be heading to the police station early tomorrow so I’ll be asleep as soon as I’m flat.” Putting your hand over the receiver, you spoke to Ruth, “Thank you, we got it figured out.”

His heart sank to his stomach, “Did he finally manage to catch you?”

“Yeah. Or—-,” your voice cracked a little, the fear rolling in as soon as Ruth walked away, “Yeah.”

“I’m coming over to the theater.”

Cupping the phone you curved your shoulders in and turned away from the staff milling about, “Don’t, that’s worse.” Tears stung your eyes. You felt like you’d failed him. You had somehow, hadn’t you? The loose thread Brady could grab ahold of was you.

“If you can’t come to the alley I’ll leave after a couple minutes. But I’ll be there in twenty, same time as our normal pick up.”

“Alastor, that’s reckless.”

“Please, dear, I don’t want our first fight to be over my work line.” A calming breath, “You don’t have to meet me, but I’ll be there. Just five minutes, then I’ll be off.”

You decided the safest thing to do was to wait in the alley. If you saw any signs of Brady or anyone coming out, you’d go back inside and just miss the meeting. But the idea of Alastor being just beyond the wall, waiting all alone, was too much.

But how much harder would it be if the wall was of the prison? Or worse, dense earth under your feet? That’s what Brady was wanting. 

You hadn’t realized you’d been chewing your nails until his car turned down the alley from the back and you tore off much of the length of your thumbnail.

Your arms were thrown around him before he was fully out of the car, “Alastor, he knows I have a guy. He wanted me to go down right now but I managed to push it to tomorrow.” Alastor tried to decipher the words as you spoke them into his vest, “What do I do?”

Normally you’d have your own plans in mind but this was too big, this was capable of hurting him more than anyone else. 

He smelled like ink and smoke, a scent you inhaled as you tried to calm your breath.

A large hand patted your head, “Okay. You go tomorrow. It’ll be fine. Don’t stress.” Pulling you off he placed chaste kisses across your face. “Think about what you want to say to him and we can talk it out in the morning. Everything is fine.”

The reality of you standing in a dirty alley crying into the arms of a murderer set in. Then the little detail you were both killers creeped over your chest and took hold of your throat.

He was impressed at the strength of your hands as you gripped at his clothes. Leaning against the car, he offered you his most charming smile.

“Deep breaths, dear. Do I look scared?”

He didn’t. He looked like a magazine ad for French cologne or razor blades that left the softest skin. 

“No.” You shook your head.

“No.” He nodded. “It’ll be okay. If you don’t go, he will hound you worse. If you do go, maybe he’ll realize he’s got a handful of nothing.”

His smile blinded you. Bright grin as he rested against his car, arms open. 

“Do you really think so? A handful of nothing?”

“Did he say my name?”

“No.”

“Did he–” he elongated the word, lips pursed as he searched the sky for his next words, “have Tommy’s body?”

You laughed, morbid but preposterous, “I didn’t pat him down. Coulda.” 

Alastor snapped his fingers, “We’ll have to just assume he didn’t.” A moment of tension. The act of joking barely traversing the space between your bodies let alone reaching the stress under your skin. His hands came to your shoulders; firm, secure. “Did you want to have that fight now? About me coming over here.”

You rolled your eyes, obviously not. “Ala-,” you started and stopped.

“I’ll admit I’m being reckless but I think we can both agree my way is more fun.” Smile sliding into a smirk, he cocked his head and lowered it to get back into your line of sight. When you stuck your tongue out he took a deep breath in, relief. “Are you sure I can’t take you home?”

To which home, you wondered. He used the word so casually and interchangeably…

Face close to yours. Eyes solely on you. Perhaps the stage wasn’t as necessary as you’d once thought. Lips on lips, the feeling of his smile spreading as he returned the kiss. A second of panic as you realized you couldn’t see or hear or sense what else was happening anymore in the alley. Brady could have had you in handcuffs and you wouldn’t be the wiser. Not as long as Alastor’s mouth was moving over yours.

“I’ll call in the morning.” He said into your exhale.

You hadn’t opened your eyes yet. Not ready to return to earth. A pout from you. A chuckle from him. “I’ll be waiting,” You finally said. 

While you did your waiting, shuffling around the theater and later tossing around in bed, Alastor fell into a different kind of purgatory.

One he hadn’t realized he’d made for himself until you weren’t there. 

The house was quiet, almost eerie. Even with music on he found himself nearly uncomfortable. He shifted several times in his chair while reading, not finding any way to settle in. 

His bed was lopsided. Suddenly one side was too light. Multiple times his hand slid under the sheets in search of you out of habit. 

What a terrible feeling; to want someone. To know you could have them but they just… weren’t there.

It didn't make any sense. He knew he’d see you soon, in less than a day's time even. He typically enjoyed his home and its silence. Being alone was predictable and therefore comforting. Well, it had been. Before you. 

The feeling in his chest, akin to a magnet tugging through his sternum toward a distant partner, didn’t abate.

Only when he heard your voice again over the phone did he find a sliver of peace.

“I’ve decided I’ll deny I have a guy. And, I’ll never tell him about you. It’s safer if he never connects us.”

Alastor was listening, honestly, but he wasn’t really processing. His mind was worried about something else. The detective genuinely didn’t bother him but he had to agree, “I suppose that’s best. As long as we can manage it, to not let him know we’re together.”

Together.

You were together with him. An item. How spectacular you must be to be a part of anything with him.

But for how long? With a certain detective breathing down your neck…, “I’m scared. Actually.”

You could hear the smile in Alastor’s breath, it was odd but eased you. 

“He will never have enough to convict us. He’ll drive himself crazy trying. Trust me.” He soothed. 

Did you have any choice? “Okay. You’re right. I trust you.” Unequivocally so. 

He cleared his throat, “Sorry to change the subject…”

“Please.”

“I want you to come over again tonight. What do you think?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course, don’t even need to ask. I’ll always say yes.” All you needed to do was get through Brady and you’d be home.

But for Alastor, well, he wasn’t done asking the question. A moment of panic from a place unrecognized in his brain, fear of losing himself entirely. But what good was a safe harbor if he never ventured out to sea? That’s just a restraint then, isn’t it? 

Maybe you held a place for him even richer in its comforts than his solitude.

So he let himself drift away from familiar shores, no sails and no compass, “I think it’d be smart to bring over a couple sets of clothes. I can keep them washed and always here for you. Would that be alright?” He had wanted to suggest it while together, but Brady was ruining more than his sleep.

Oh.

The same silence from when he first extended the invitation, the deja vu not lost on you. You struggled to decipher the second meaning you were sure was there. Maybe he didn't know what he had asked. 

“I know it’s boring out in the boonies but, you’re welcome to just stay over while I go to work. I can come back and get you for rehearsals… I’ll enjoy the clubs or come back and make something for a late dinner for us, and bring you home when you’re done.”

He said it. He hadn’t really meant to, so he felt the need to clarify, but you also needed him to clarify just as quickly, “I -,”

“Did you me-?”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

“No I interrupted you-,”

“Not at all pl-,”

“Alastor for the love of God please don’t make me keep talking right now.” You lightly knocked your head with the phone a few times. Your heart was gasping for an ounce of understanding.

He chuckled, glad you were still very much yourself, “I meant, take you home as in, away from work. So, here. Or, there, if you’d prefer.” His face scrunched up, this wasn’t a conversation he had any practice in, “Anywhere really. I’ll drive you anywhere.”

“Alabama?”

He looked at the phone as if you were in it. Alabama? 

“Like— the first time you asked me over.” You added quickly. A terrible joke, a bad callback that made it painfully obvious you committed everything he said to memory.

Alastor rested his cheek on the dining table, laughing into the wood before bringing the receiver back. You always offered him an out of uncomfortable situations, “Well the offer still stands. I'd be willing to even venture at least halfway across Texas.” 

“The best half of Texas is on our side so that’s a generous offer. But, given our work schedules, I think your house would be much better. Time wise.” 

He let his eyes close as he felt the coldness of the wood, “Is that a yes then? To bringing over a couple of items… for ease.” Was it a mistake? Would he regret it? 

You were worth regrets. He had decided. He wanted you to say yes.

The weight of what he was asking wasn’t lost on you an ounce. You could see your window from the phone booth. You took great pride in your little apartment. It was your space and no one else’s. As a child you struggled to have your own anything, so you valued your home. 

But could you call any place so far from Alastor a home?

It’s just a few items. You weren’t giving up your lease. It’s a baby step. One you could easily walk back if you needed to later. It’s not like you hadn’t spent every night possible already since that first offer.

“Yes.” 

It was a plan that took your mind off cops. Have your interrogation, go home, then go home for a relaxing evening of jazz and drink.

The levity ended though the second you hung up the receiver. An obstacle between you and him still stood. You pulled out your bag but couldn’t find the will to pack it. Your hands were too busy as you chewed on your thumbnail again.

Brady noticed the uneven length when you sat down and set your hands on the table.

“Surprised you showed.” He opened his notebook and readied his pencil. “First things first, what is your legal name?”

A chill. You’d gotten your warning the night before to prepare something to say but ignored it. Your mind was flipping through words and images. Piercing all of it were the white reflective eyes of the deer along the road. You decided to lean into what you knew. 

“Autumn.”

“Really? Never heard the name Autumn before.”

“Me either. Made for an easy stage name.”

“I’ll need to see your birth records, just to be sure.”

You sucked your teeth. “Ah, unfortunately…all that stuff was left behind with my mom when I moved.”

“And where can I find her?

“Corner of North Villere street and Piety.”

“And your address?”

You paused. His eyes rose and met yours. The radiant aqua from the cafe morning was now an icy color. “I don’t give my address out. You know where I work.”

“But you’re fine giving me your mother’s address? That’s cold.”

“Not as cold as she is, I’m sure of that.”

“Fine, I’ll find it in the census records.” He flipped the page, “Tell me about the dates Tommy arranged.” He tapped his notepad on the table like it was the starting bell of a fight.

You wished Alastor was with you, but also wished he would never enter that station. “Apparently many of the dancers agreed, got a cut. I had no idea about it until he,” you remembered the man and his ugly tie, “introduced me to a man who was very forward. I insulted him and ran off. Lost Tommy good money, apparently.”

“And who was that?”

You searched your memory, “S something. Mister Stein? I honestly wasn’t listening much after I realized what was happening.”

Brady nodded, “And then he knocked you around?”

You winced without meaning too, “Yeah. Got me good.”

Brady waited for you to continue talking, but you had learned this game. People know silence is uncomfortable and will use that against you. So you let the silence stay. Let the awkward tension build. You had limited time, he knew that.

He caved first. “And… the next date. Last time anyone saw Tommy. Tell me about that.”

Lying was second nature to you. You had killed for Alastor. You could do this. Deep breaths, slink into yourself. You imagined Alastor choked on the park grounds, wet and unmoving. Imagined him cold to the touch.

“Tommy said he’d kill me if I didn’t go. So I did. Promised me he’d stay with me for protection.” Tears welled. Bloody hands and a large rock. “But as soon as he got his money he left.” 

Brady was writing, “And the man? What was his name.”

“Something foreign. Kerr-something. Or Car?”

He looked up slightly, “You’re pretty terrible at names.”

You wiped away your tears, “I had more pressing concerns at the time than trying to remember that man’s name. I was hoping I’d never need to know it.”

Brady hummed, “Yeah. And what did your beau think of this?”

Did you hide it? The flash of panic that rolled under the flesh of your face, “If I had a beau Tommy wouldn’t have made me do that. He said that himself.”

“Too bad he’s not here to confirm.”

“If he was we wouldn’t be having this conversation, detective.”

“Touché. Clever little lady aren’t you?”

Fuck.

You shifted slightly in your seat, looking downward in an attempt at being bashful. “That’s kind to say.”

“So why did,” he flipped through his book, “Beth say you stopped singin’ on Sundays cuz of your radio boyfriend?”

“Ah,” a weak laugh to hide the way your breath got sucked in with panic. The words ‘radio boyfriend’ punched the air from your lungs. “You must mean the rake. Took me for a ride at a club corner and sent me off in a cab to never see me again. Didn’t know he was in radio though.” 

“Well now you’re lying and I don’t appreciate it one ounce ma’am.“

“What?”

“Beth says he’s been coming to your shows for nearly half a year.”

No acting necessary for this part. “What are you talking about? I met him at a club. We arranged a date and he picked me up at—“

“Beth’s dive.”

“…. Yeah. Well.” He’d been there before? So often? And you never noticed…, “That’s news to me, that he had been there for so long, it’s got its regulars though so...” You shifted again, this time with a clear uncomfortable edge. 

“He stopped coming when you stopped singing.”

“….guess he got what he wanted then. A fun time in the swing hall bathroom.”  Anger. Unreal and unfounded. Trying your best to hide how confused you were.

“Sounds like a stalker, miss. Maybe one who woulda been quite unhappy to hear you were selli-,”

You cut him off, eyes snapping up to meet his, “I really recommend you reconsider your wording.”

Brady laughed with a huff, “A man dizzy with a dame can do some funny stuff. Especially if he hears she’s in a pickle.”

“Well, no knight coming to rescue me. I’ve sworn off men. It’s why I’ve been leaving work early. Getting home, reading, sleeping. He really did a number on my heart and my pride as a woman.”

Brady’s pencil stopped moving. 

“And his name?”

You’d never fucking say it. He could walk in on you moaning ‘Alastor’ and you’d still act like you’d never heard that string of syllables in your life. 

“John.”

Brady laughed and tossed the pencil to the table, “Let me guess, last name Doe?”

You shrugged, “We weren’t on a full name basis. He was handsome, he took me out, we fucked, I never saw him again” You delighted in the way his face screwed up at your unladylike language. 

“So, someone in radio named John. You know I’m going to be at every broadcaster talking to every John, right?” The nervous shaking of his notebook again. 

“When you find him let me know.”

“Oh I will.” He said it so quickly, so sharply you could feel it cut at your cheek as the words flew past you.

You pulled your hands into your lap, eyes firmly locked on Brady’s. “You look tired, sir. I hope my answers will help you. So you can rest.”

“I am tired. Of people jerking me around. You won’t give me your address, you don’t remember anyone’s name, not even your own, and you deny having a man I know you have.”

If you screamed would he have you committed? “I’m terribly sorry,” you leaned over the table and pulled a piece of fuzz off his shoulder, “my friend gave you inaccurate and dated information. I am genuinely trying to help as much as I can.”

Upon closer inspection, his eyes were more than just blue. They were dark and light, deep and shallow. Blue so far down it was nearly black. A blue so bright it was a cousin of white. Eyes you were sure would haunt you. 

“Help me then, Autumn.” Your brows rose at the request. He leaned back and away from you, “Just tell me what happened to Tommy. What your guy did. If he was trying to protect your name then we could find a sympathetic jury.”

Sympathy? Your smile was too wide, stare gone too soft. What sympathy did he have or would anyone have for you? Did he think you wanted the tender hearts of strangers? “Tommy ran off with a bag of money. He was a good man with a bad habit. That’s all I know. I have no partner, man or otherwise.”

A standstill. 

Brady felt a twitch in his hands he wasn’t used to. An itch to move. Unlike him, and a little frightening. 

Maybe he had been running himself ragged. 

Back sliding down slightly in his chair, he laced his fingers and rested them in his lap, “You know I’m gonna find out what happened, right?” His tone had shifted to something serious and calm. He said it like he was telling you a secret. Low but firm. Steady and sure. 

Those eyes. No, worse. What was behind them. You could see it clearly; unflappable determination. He absolutely would. 

“I trust you will.” A moment of silence again as you both felt the conversation die. As you stood, Brady did too.

“I wasn’t bluffing about him going to Beth’s for more than half a year now. I don’t know how you think this is gonna end but it won’t end pretty. Whether it was just your boss or all the others on my desk, end it with him and help us bring Tommy home to his mother.”

You adjusted your purse on your shoulder, “I don’t know how many time-,”

“Autumn. I’ve seen enough make up covered bruises to clock em from across the room. That’s the act of a possessive, immature man. Just think about what I said,” You opened the door in an effort to keep your hands from shooting to your neck. “There’s no white picket fence or church bells for you two. He’s a bad man. I think he may even be an evil man. You’re gonna end up hurt, or dead.”

A laugh bubbled up in your chest but you managed to stifle it. With an honest smile you replied, “We’re all gonna end up dead someday, Detective. I’ll call if I have any news. Thanks for your concern and … evident hard work.” You offered a little nod of your head before leaving the room and the station as quickly as you could without running. 

When he set down his notebook after returning to his desk, he couldn’t sit. Energy was buzzing in his limbs. He needed to run or swing or pace.

His desk neighbor watched him immediately pick up the notebook again and grab his hat. A few other men shared a glance as Brady rushed out, an unsettling feeling passed among them. 

“He’s still on that case?” One asked quietly, going back to his papers.

“Not officially….” Answered Freeman, standing at the window and watching Brady flag down a taxi.

“North Villere street and Piety, please.” He told the driver, not noticing his friend in the window.

It wasn’t near the station, nor the dance scene. He wondered if your mother would be any more amiable. What kind of woman would raise such a creature as you?

When the car slowed, Brady clicked back into his surroundings. He looked through every window hoping to see something different.

After a long pause the cabbie asked, “Ya gonna get out?”

His knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the seat. “No. Take me back to the station.”

His blood pressure rose so quickly he was sure he would black out as the cab turned around and drove back past the sign; Vincent DePaul cemetery.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Alastor kissed away the worries when he took your bag from you. Every detail of the interview was just hummed away. “Even if he finds me, without a body he has no case.” He reminded you like it was nothing short of fact.

“What if he gets one?”

“Not one of mine, I can assure you. He’d sooner need to kill someone himself and call it my fault.” A pause, was that something the detective would do? He shook off the thought. 

He was so confident that even though you knew it was just skin deep it still gave you a sense of calm. The bodies, where they went after he was done with them in the greenhouse, was the last step he hadn’t shared with you.

There was one thing you didn’t mention about the interrogation. 

You waited until you were a few drinks in, Alastor’s bowtie off and shirt unbuttoned several buttons before bringing it up. Uncharacteristically nervous about how he’d react when you broached the topic, you needed several deep breaths to get up your courage. Normally the idea of offending a man with an honest question wouldn’t ruffle you a bit, but once again there was nothing normal about you and Alastor. He made you so unlike yourself but not necessarily worse. Perhaps some consideration of other’s reactions wasn’t a bad thing. 

“This is awkward to ask.” It was dark already, the sun setting earlier and earlier. The buzz of the kitchen light could be heard through the screen door, the light just enough to let you see each other's features clearly. Leaning back on both hands for support, your legs rested in an unladylike spread down the porch stairs. No shoes. No girdle. No pretense.

Would he be mad? Or maybe offended?

“Brady said you had been going to my Sunday shows for awhile. Months before we actually met. Did you really meet me by coincidence?”

“Or was I stalking you as my next victim?” His head fell to the side, eyes closed and smile wide. “I saw you there, yes. And though you weren’t the best singer, I did enjoy your shows.”

You tried to see him without directly turning your head. 

“But yes, it was a coincidence. I had noticed that brute of a man a couple weeks in a row, staring at you so intensely. Word got around he had made a scene some time ago with a dancer.” 

You listened like someone was telling you your own story. It was an odd feeling, hearing someone recount your days from a different perspective. An unknown one. 

“I was surprised to see you at the theater when I followed him there. Even more so to see you in the alleyway.”

If he had said it wasn’t a coincidence, you genuinely didn’t know what you’d have done. You’d be scared and angry. Another predator lurking just past the tree lines.

Your relief must have been visible. “He really got to you, didn’t he?” Alastor asked, leaning over and letting his shoulder bump into yours. He was still riding the high of putting away your belongings in his closet and drawers. 

“Yeah. He gives me a bad feeling. Like…a brick wall barreling toward me.” You kicked a leaf off the steps, “Or like, when you see a big dark cloud on the horizon. Can’t do anything but wait and hunker down.”

How do you wait out a storm so set on burying you?

“Dear,” his hands rose and palms flipped up in a way that said he wasn’t hiding anything, “We get hurricanes annually. We’ve survived every one thus far. He’s just a drip. A sprinkle of a man.”

People have drowned on land before. A sprinkle could lead to pneumonia and that could lead to a wooden box. 

He tried to change the topic, laughing about Brenda’s reaction to the call and making plans for an evening out when things settled down again. You listened, but it was your turn to be half there. 

You could barely muster concern when you realized you’d forgotten your makeup and hair wrap at home when you were preparing for bed. What you would give for going home barefaced with a ruined hairdo to be the biggest stress of your week. 

The distance in your stare was weighing down his joy, how could he relish in the newest addition to his home when you were so burdened? Even in the moonless night he could see the faintest light reflecting off your eyes as you stared at the ceiling. Did you even feel his stare? 

He couldn’t let Brady poison his bed, and the man was clearly there now. Chasing you in your mind still. 

“Could I offer you a distraction?” Alastor slipped up against you, hand finding your hip. He could see your smile forming. 

“I wouldn’t argue against a distraction…,” you’d beg for one if you didn’t want to feel any lower than you already did. 

“Perfect. This bed isn’t made for three, so let’s eject that little nag, dear.” His hands slipped down your legs, “I want to replace your thoughts with better ones.” He pulled you to him, your back pressed into his broad chest. The way his soft hands smoothed over your silk slip felt like foreplay, so smooth and slick. Frictionless and gentle. Those same hands ran down and between your legs, following the line of your thighs until they found your center. “It seems you forgot something else.” Two fingers caressed your lower lips, barely parting them, “Not that I’m complaining…,” his lips found the back of your neck as his fingers rubbed gently at your core. 

It took so very little to get your body on board, wet and relaxed for his practiced hand. Your own fingers coming down to rub at your clit quickly when you felt your pleasure winding up. 

He sighed directly into the shell of your ear, hands working in tandem with yours under the covers. His back pressed against you, hips rolling into your backside in time with his fingers. 

“What are you thinking about?” Barely above a whisper as he said it into your heated skin.

“Fingers.”

“Whose?” His voice was deeper than his usual speaking tone. A tenor that made you clench around him.

“Yours.”

You’d never been so satisfied with hands before. With breath. With the sounds of a man. Never saw stars while clothed and not under the lights of the stage. Warm and wet kisses to your neck as you came down from your high, you’d never considered sex could be more than a man fucking someone. Nor that a man could find pleasure so readily with his cock still in his pants. But the way he hummed and growled softly into your skin was proof of his good time. 

You’d learned a lot from those progressively chillier nights at Alastor’s over the first week of your constant cohabitation. How much you liked waking up with someone just a reach away. How Alastor woke slowly, incapable of coherent speech for at least the first twenty minutes of his day. He’d stare and smile as his eyes blinked out of sync, rolling back occasionally as he fought the urge to fall back into sleep. Hair disheveled and soft.

When the weekend came, Alastor offered again to take you out. A promise to take you somewhere no detectives would be hiding about. A week without a peep, you were sure he had followed up with your mother and was probably steaming to get at you. But, for some reason or another, he hadn’t appeared again in the crowd of your shows. 

A week of going into work unmade and unkempt, you finally gave in and asked to be taken to your apartment early Friday. You’d grab a few items you needed, take them to work, and be back home that night. 

Your eyes were on Alastor when his car pulled up to your building. When he kissed you, your hand scratched at the shorter hairs at the nape of his neck. Eyes closed, you could smell him and feel him so much clearer. Perhaps when you were old together you wouldn’t have to worry about your sight giving out, you thought. Because you’d always know it was him by the way his skin on yours lit you up. 

“Pack something you’d like to wear out tomorrow night.” He reminded you before you pulled yourself from the car and waved him off. You lingered for a moment as he drove away, wondering if maybe the storm had been pushed off course.

“Oooh, who is he?”

Whipping around, you saw a familiar face sitting on the stoop of your building. An unwelcome one, though. 

“What the fuck are you doing here, Mavis?” Your bag fell from your hands as the strength drained from your limbs.

She patted the dust off her dress before bouncing down the steps.  “The names Ephi now.” A half sister, though perhaps a quarter sister would be best to describe the often absentminded, when not literally absent, sibling. 

“That’s not a name that’s a fucking letter of the alphabet. Mama would smack the color of your cheeks if she heard you.” You were sure you’d not see her ever again, not after she ran off to head north before your mother passed. She scowled, arms crossed as you brushed past her. “I don’t have any money so you wasted a trip. See ya in another decade.”

Ephi grinned up at you as you climbed the stairs, “Looked like he had some money. Mr. Big Shot and his shiny bus.”

“Lotsa people have cars.” Your eyes landed on the suitcase poorly hidden behind the steps. Hand halting its search for the building key as you could feel the stare of your mother looking…down? A weight slipping over your shoulders like a man’s heavy winter coat.

“Well I don’t need money or cars. I need a place to crash.”

Your head fell. You could feel it coming. The gust of wind dragging the clouds slowly towards you. No, the storm wasn’t off course. It was just building momentum.

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

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[igotanidea]

Judgement: Benedict Bridgerton x actress!reader

Requested by @jaysgirlx <3

***

She wasn’t the most beautiful.

Or the most talented.

And definitely not born in the best family.

Nonetheless, neither of us, no matter how much willpower we are endowed with, has the possibility of choosing the environment we are born into. That is solely up to fate.

What we can choose, however, is how we adapt to the circumstances, how we behave, who we become and how we cope with the opinions that are – more often than not – negative and critical.

Especially when a woman, regardless of standards of an ossified, prejudiced society decides to make a living by being an actress. For Y/N Y/L/N no work was dishonorable. For the ladies of the ton, such profession was almost equal with being a lady of easy virtue. For the men – well- the behavior of some of them was below any norms of decency.

Funny how the point of view depends on the point of sitting.

***

She was late again.

For the third time this week and it was barely Wednesday. Not a good scorecard she kept and it definitely got under the skin of the theater owner. Y/N could not quite comprehend why the gentleman was so irritated since from the moment she stepped foot in that sanctuary of art she has been doing every single thing needed. Not only acting, but also cleaning the floor if required, repairing the costumes, helping with the dialogues. Very versatile all things considered.

Desperate for a job and survival? No, not entirely, maybe a little.

Enamored and passionate by the employ that gave her a bread and a questionable opinion. Yes, absolutely.

Rushing through the busy London streets, miraculously avoiding respectable matrons and their equally respectable lord consorts was not the best of the ideas of reducing, even to a small extent, the extent of her delay.

Y/N did not pay much attention while crossing the street either, obviously missing the speeding carriage and the moment she looked to the right, finding herself mere inches from the hooves of spooked horses, her entire life flashed in front of her eyes.

She let out a embarrassingly high cry of shock and freeze on the spot, mentally preparing herself of leaving the globe and letting her spirit fly away to some better world just like Julia Capulet did after her beloved Romeo—

“Watch out!” a man’s voice, a firm yet gentle grip of hand on her waist and a second later she was safely back on the pavement, sustaining no permanent injuries, save for rapid breathing and slightly flushed cheeks. “Are you all right, my lady?”

“I am not a lady.” She retorted automatically shaking her head and slowly raising her gaze to give thanks to her lifesaver “Mr. Bridgerton!” the second son of the late viscount was definitely not the person she expected to see and it made her take a step back immediately.

Almost ending up under another carriage if it wasn’t for Benedict Bridgerton’s reflexes and a bright, teasing smile.

“You don't learn from your mistakes, my lady” he teased “am I this repulsive to make you step away upon noticing my face? Is this how women behave this day?”

“Forgive me my Lord, I was blinded by all your glory” she almost rolled her eyes, saying the words before biting her own tongue. “oh…” the gasps that came out of her mouth a moment later only caused Benedict to laugh wholeheartedly.

“Not the usual reaction I get from a woman.”

“I can tell, my lord. I am sure ladies do swoon at the sight of you. And now that Viscount Bridgerton had tied the marriage knot you sure are looking for a wife so –” she sopped in the middle of the sentence realizing she was babbling again.

“Oh so you are a woman after all. Gossiping.” Benedict smirked.

“I beg your pardon!”

“Do I know you from somewhere?” he tilted his head examining her face trying to assess the possibility of them meeting before.

“No, my lord. I do not believe we have met.”

“May I have your name then, my lady?”

“Not a lady, my lord. And you should not preoccupy the place in your head with remembering my name.” she bowed, lacking skills a bit and – suddenly remembering that she was late – rushed to the theater.

Benedict Bridgerton.

Of course they have met before, but why would she remind him of the circumstances of the event happening so many weeks ago?

He was a student in the art academy, lately enhancing his skills in the portrait area, polishing the subject of anatomy. Both male and female, with the latter obviously much more involving in many hands-on way and that was not a secret. Those models were beautiful and fragile after all and being confronted with the harsh reality of XIX century London they had nothing more to offer than their bodies. Y/N almost ended up the same, but her talent for acting changed everything.

Regardless, her older brother was earning some additional funds by assisting the students, providing canvas, brushes, paints, wine, measures of various kinds. Whatever the domineering might wish for. And one day she was visiting him, entering the classroom without the knowledge that the lesson was still in progress.

And so she ended up in the middle of the room full of men with a naked model on the platform, under the barrage of astonished glances.

“Oh look, we got another one to help us study today!” one of the men cried out and the entire room started laughing. “You ought to wait for your turn, sweetheart. Do not fret though, we’ll take proper care of you.”

She blushed like a peony, her hands trembling a little.

“I was eagerly awaiting the moment when the Academy will provide us with a full shaped, average of beauty woman and here we are! My prayers have been answered, gentlemen!”

She blushed even more at the clear invective threw her way. Men could really behave like animals in their own company. Zero decency, respect for others or moderation. And the worst part was that all the ton knew about this open secret and gave their universal consent to that. Men were supposed to have their flings before marriage even if that meant a lot of improper things.

Her half-furious, half-hurt eyes scanned the room, taking in all the men gathered their and their attire, not paying much attention to either before landing on that one person who actually looked like having at least a little self-reflection.

Benedict Bridgerton.

Frozen with the brush in his hand and slightly unbuttoned shirt, torn between joining the common laugh on her expense and putting an end to this merciless, ongoing teasing. Before he could do a thing however she put an end to his misery and left the room with the solemn resolution to never interact with any of those debauched animals.

Judging Benedict as quickly and easily as all the society judged her.

***

“Quickly! We’re almost starting and you cannot seem to be on time even once!”

“I am—”

“do not interrupt me girl, put on the costume and get on the stage! I swear one of those days you will make me do the thing I will regret!”

***

That woman spurred some memories in Benedict’s mind even if couldn’t fully put all the pieces of the picture together. At least not until Eloise playfully smacked his side.

“What?”

“Do you know who you just saved?”

“That girl back there?” he massaged the sore place giving his sister a reproachful look “no idea. Should I know her?”

“That’s Y/N Y/L/N!”

“Uh… okay?”

“She’s an actress!”

“Um…”

“She’s a self-made, independent woman not looking for marriage and free of societal expectations!”

“You better not let out mother find out that a woman with no title is your role model.”

“Oh I’d be more than happy to let her know that. I believe that the amount of injustice put on women-“

“I do realize the amount of your thoughts in the subject.”

“Since when are you judgmental?” Eloise scoffed

“I am not!”

“Fine then Come see her performance with me.”

***

Y/N was almost pushed on the stage, without having any time to gather her thoughts or to revise her role, forced to improvise by putting on a bright fake smile and subjecting the audience to a minute or two of suspension, before realizing what she was supposed to play that day.

Clearing her throat and fixing her costume she stepped into the light, joining the rest of the cast on the stage and started giving her lines.

Any other time she would be focused solely on the scene and words coming out her mouth making sure each of them were perfectly accentuated and spoke just the right way.

So what was this inexplicable instinct that made her scan the audience?

Spotting him.

With his eyes fixed on her, showing something that could not be mistaken for anything else but sheer admiration.

And she did not like it at all.

to be continued? ;)

[ressonancee]

TRACK N02. KAMIKAZE - CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

I love the beginnin', the moonlight is callin' I know we'll go up, but we'll end up freefallin' You mind if I need to come kamikaze, crash into your way?

✷ wordcount: 7.734 ✷ genre: angst, break-up, smut

✷ This work is a part of "The Loviest Time Universe" - A collection of stories inspired by Carly Rae Jepsen's album

✷ Thea's note: hi everyone this is finally out - the first installment of the loveliest time, hehe. But first let me say a few thank yous. To @ssinboo for giving this a read since the first draft and enduring my thoughts on Discord 24/7. A thank you to @dalamjisung for reading this when i thought this was too sad and nobody would read this. And a special thanks to @toruro mika you are the kindest, thank you for reassuring me when I thought this sucked and was too depressing <3 , and for beta-reading ♥ I hope you all enjoy this (even if it hurts) also seungcheol-enjoyers i am very very sorry. Kkuma 2nd appearance.

I saw you in the deep end A shipwreck underwater And I know I shouldn't want that

Loving Seungcheol was not an easy task, and you learned it in the hardest way possible. 

Loving Seungcheol seemed easy. He crashed into your life - loudly, fast. Often, you thought about it like a car crash in a movie scene - the part when everything gets upside down, and even the glass pieces flying around look kinda magical.

But you guess, after a while, the movie scene was just a little bit too loud and possibly a security hazard for everyone involved. 

A part of you really wanted to give your all, to sacrifice, to just give a little bit more of yourself to make it work, but lately, you have been so fucking tired and so alone that you don’t even have the strength to try anymore.

You loved everything about Seungcheol, you loved his laugh, you loved the way that Seungcheol made everyone feel cared for, you loved how he treated you and you loved how he loved you, and knowing all that made everything worse.

But Seungcheol had that power - he made sure to make you fall in love all over again every time he had a chance. And everything would be okay after a few hours in the same space as him, you would feel loved, he would smile, he would embrace you and everything would just feel right.

The problem was that lately, Seungcheol didn't have the time to make you fall in love with him.

If you thought about it, you couldn't even pinpoint the last time you saw Seungcheol. You know he dropped by before going overseas for his tour - four months long tour, for a quick fuck but before that you can't really remember because he was already busy with a comeback and rehearsal. 

And you tried your best to keep it cool, and you tried your best to deal with it on your own - Seungcheol was a constant topic in your therapy, and you tried to understand - of course his life is more glamorous than yours, of course he has the chance to go to all those beautiful places you can only see in pictures, of course it was work.

And you tried to bite your tongue and think how much of his life he had to give up in order to be where he is now. And it is his dream, his youth, his life really - so you can't make Seungcheol choose.

You know all that. 

And you try to use your brain instead of your heart. But when Seungcheol is in the same country as you, in the same time zone, and still has a problem reaching up, it still has a problem finding more than a 30-minute time slot, you know what you need to do.

You need to let him go.

It is a Monday when Cheol arrives on your doorstep, you let him in and everything seems so normal - the majority of times you two hang out was in your house, not a lot of dating outside, not a lot of going out with your boyfriend enjoying the city. 

You tried to brush it off and pretend you didn't care Seungcheol didn't have a normal life, so you two could have brunch on a sunday or a stroll in the nearest mall. 

"Hey baby I was thinking of ordering from that chinese restaurant god I am craving the food," Seungcheol says, crashing on your sofa like it is his own house, and it settles on you that it is almost like his second house, a hideaway, every time he had a problem he would just crash on your place. He had the keys, why didn't he open the door? Why were you always doing the job? Letting him in, let him crash into your life? Why couldn't you crash into his and set things on fire? "Baby? Are you listening?" Seungcheol calls, but you know he doesn't really care because his eyes are glued to his phone.

"Cheol I need your attention for a minute," you say, looking at him, trying your best to keep it straight, to not fall on the ground and cry.

"Okay okay just let me answer a few more texts. We are scheduling the next varieties right now so everything is a bit crazy," your boyfriend says, still not paying attention. And you ask yourself - has it always been like that? 

Did Seungcheol always come into your life, create havoc, crush everything on his point of view, take everything he could get his hands on and everything you could give him to not give five minutes of his time in return? 

"Seungcheol I really need you to put your phone down," you say again and you are so pathetic that you feel the tears rolling down your cheeks, your voice cracking up - and that's what calls Seungcheol's attention, eyes big on surprise.

"Love, are you okay? What happened?" he asks and now that you have his attention, his phone is screen down on your sofa, his eyes on you, you feel all certainty leaving your body because you miss him so much and he looks so tired your heart almost breaks because you feel like to Seungcheol you are just another thing he needs to take care of, to handle, to adjust in his crazy hours.

You feel like you are a plate spinning in the little stick, and you are about to fall down because Seungcheol forgot that he needs to spin you around.

"I'm really sorry, I-" you hiccup, and god you feel so fucking silly. 

"Baby what is going on?" Seungcheol's voice is low when he tries to wrap his arms around you, scared when you don't let him do it. "Baby you are worrying me," he says again when he watches you take steps away from him.

"You don't need to worry, everything is fine."

"Clearly everything is not fine, I am back after ages, and my girlfriend is crying in the living room," he says god you wish you could get angry and pick a fight with Seungcheol but you feel so tired, you feel so exhausted.

"I-" you try to start, but you feel your legs buckle and your heartbreak. "I think we should break up."

"What?" Seungcheol because that is the only thing he can say. Seungcheol feels like he is inside a car crash like he is the one getting upside down. He feels so blindsided by your decision, did... Did you find someone when he was away, or did you just fall out of love?

"I think we should break up," you say it again, more to yourself than to him, like you are making up your own mind.

"Can-" Seungcheol paces around, he actually feels his throat close and his tongue feels like sandpaper around the roof of his mouth, he can't even bring himself to actually look at you. But he finally does, seeing you sitting on the floor, back against a wall, hands holding your own hand, elbows on your knee, and you just feel so different. Seungcheol can't actually pinpoint what seems different, but you are, and you look so tired, what the fuck happened, how could he not see this coming? "Can I ask why?"

And you scoff, Seungcheol can see your whole body moving. Everything is so clear to you and so hazed to Seungcheol is like you two are in different directions speaking through a tin can telephone.

"I don't think this is working for me I-" you try to start, trying to dry your tears with the sleeve of your shirt.

"Did you find someone else?" Seungcheol blurts out.

"What?" You ask in actual disbelief, did he-

"Are you in love with someone else?" He says it again and you can wrap your mind around it, what he wants to mean with those silly accusations.

"Thats-"

"That's ok, I can take it, you can be honest with me," Seungcheol says again, trying to brace himself for the impact, preparing himself to hear the eyes falling out of your lips.

"You know what's funny?" You say without a hint of humor in your voice, "You actually prefer that wouldn't you? You would actually prefer the idea of being cheated on, of me being guilty of falling in love with someone else than to acknowledge that may be-" you hiccup, and try to breathe even though you can't do it through your nose, "that may be I am ending things with you because i can't deal with the shit show that is your life anymore, that I can't take being a second option anymore because your life is so fucking good that only someone crazy wouldn't want to share it with you." You pick yourself up, and you feel so angry, you feel so disrespected. You look at him, and god, even though you love him you know Seungcheol can't give you what you want, he can't give you coffee dates, he can't give you holidays, he can't give you the certainty of Valentine's days and birthdays. And even though you love him, even though you gave everything you could, even though you spent months and months on videocalls or just texts, even though you felt so fucking happy when he was by your side even though it meant a delivery and a night in, he is implying that you could cheat on him, like you could find someone like you are not broken enough to think that you could never love someone again like you love him. "Guess what Cheol, you don't share anything. You just take and take until the person doesn't have any more to give you"

And he stays silent like he doesn't have anything to say. Like he is trying to understand the situation, those hazy moments after the crash when you try to make yourself come back to reality.

"I am sorry I am really tired if you could-" you start, walking to your door.

"Do you-" Seungcheol starts and when he looks at you can see the tears around his eyes and you want to take everything back, you want to say you are sorry, you want to say it was just you're feeling lonely but now he is back, now everything is okay, you can deal with going to every working related dinner or party alone and lie when people ask why your boyfriend never comes. "Do you think I could do something different?"

"No," you say voice small, looking everywhere just so you can avoid Cheol's eyes. "I really love you, I love you so fucking much, I just can't deal with your life, I just can't deal with the loneliness that comes when you go MIA between shows because you are tired, I just can't deal with whole weeks gone just because you guys are working on a new album, and I can't deal having a boyfriend only inside the walls of my apartment, it hurts so fucking much Cheol and I just have nothing else to give you." you catch your breath, and you smell his perfume, and everything looks so out of place, how can a heartbreak make you nauseated, make you feel physically ill? "And even though I love you, I wish I could bring myself to ask for it, to make you give me what I want, but I know you and I know I can't ask you for that, and I know you enough to know that if I ask for it maybe I won't get what I want in return because you can't give what I want.

When Seungcheol leaves the only thing you do is cry. Like a child, on your bed, in a fetal position, hiccuping every few minutes. You cry so much that you fall asleep while doing it. In the morning when your alarm goes off, you can feel a headache. You think you will need a lot more than a painkiller. But you pick yourself up, and go to work and you regret it. You regret it when you see a fucking bus with Seungcheol's face plastered on it - his birthday is in three weeks. You regret it when you see it again on the subway, and when you open social media the news around his new album is across it - you think you need to delete every account Seungcheol related. 

You also regret when you see Mingyu's name on your phone screen. But when Mingyu calls you for the third time you know something must be wrong.

"Hello?"

"Hey can you- ok guys shut up, hi hmm” He says in a lower voice, “can you tell Seungcheol to hurry up he is a bit late we have scheduled in like 30-ish," He says across the line.

"Hm, Mingyu I really can't do that." You say almost laughing because his friends don’t call you ever, you have Mingyu’s number registered because once Seungcheol had a dead phone and he asked Mingyu to tell you he was arriving late - that’s when Seungcheol still cared you think, after that he just arrived late without telling you his schedule was running late.

"No really like it is a really important schedule."

"Mingyu Seungcheol is not with me right now you should call him-"

"Is he not? I mean he slept with you, right? Did he leave your house already?"

"No, he didn't sleep at my place last night-"

"No?" Mingyu asks and the line is dead silent before you pick yourself up and have the courage to tell you.

"Mingyu we broke up yesterday," You say in the lowest register ever, the last thing you wanted was Karen from the sales department eavesdropping on your conversation and asking if you needed a girl time.

"Why did you break up with him?" He asks and that makes your head spin a little, how did he know?

"Mingyu that's-" you breathe loudly, you want to smash the phone against the nearest surface, but you need patience, and to be honest Mingyu didn’t do anything for you to be rude, yes, you are angry but it is not Mingyu’s fault,  "That's really personal I'm sorry"

"Ok, sorry, yeah I overstepped for sure," you can hear the faint voices in the background, "Do you think you know a place he could've gone to?"

"No, I really don't, I am sorry, just" your bite your tongue because you think that’s overstepping too, but you say nonetheless,  "Just give me a heads up if you guys find him or if I need to worry ok?"

"Yeah, yeah."

And against everything - your rational mind and your broken heart, you call Seungcheol, because he still comes first, his well-being and state. Even if he is not picking Mingyu's call that stills a part of you that says that you are special enough to him that he may answer your calls. He doesn't. But you don't even have time to worry because Mingyu sends you a message saying that Seungcheol just showed up and he is fine.

And the reality of it crushes you. You are not the person that Seungcheol will pick up when everyone calls him, you are not the exception anymore.

What really hurts is when you think that maybe you never were. 

And the feeling makes you so physically ill that when you knock on your chief's door to say you are going back home because you feel unwell and gonna try to work remotely he just says you can take a day off because you are clearly looking like a fucking truck hit you.

The first few days make you wish Seungcheol was right. You cry so much you feel dehydrated and have a non-stop headache. So you wish he was right, you wish you did cheat on him, you wish you ended things because you fell. in love with somebody else. 

You don't delete his messages but you do archive the conversation because every time you open the app it is just there and the want to hover it, to go back, to look at it, to have Seungcheol back in your life is so big you ask yourself how can you carry such a burden.

When you reach the 7 days you feel like somehow you can breathe again, now crying only 25% of the time. It's painful how you get back into your routine very quickly, it makes you feel that Seungcheol was not a big part of it. The main thing you do is to just keep your phone away, check less social media - the last time his face popped up and you almost yetted the phone. 

On week two you do all the things that you wanted to do with Seungcheol, alone or with other people. You go to the new corner cafe with a book and order a lot of sweet treats. You go to the movies after a day of work because why not. You drive yourself to the beach, and even though it’s not really summer, the weather is nice enough. In a way you think you are a masochist, experiencing all of those things and reminiscing of what could be if Seungcheol was by your side. But every time you come home and your empty place greets you with the memory of Seungcheol and his belongings you think that masochism would be locking yourself up in a place where Seungcheol was most present in your life.

Week three is a living hell. It's Seungcheol's birthday and you catch yourself entering a store just because something nice enough to be his present caught your attention. When you pick up your phone to ask him if he prefers leather or wool the reality crashes into you. It makes your world spin a little, and everything is in slow motion when you go back home. 

It doesn't help that you still have a pair of shoes, some shirts, a few pieces of jewelry, and even toiletries that don't belong to you in your own house. You feel stupid when you cry, but you pick everything up and put everything in a box - but you still don't have the strength to contact Seungcheol and say that he needs to pick up his things in order to move on.

I'm just here for the weekend A wordless kind of offer And I'm hoping that you saw that

After a month you stop crying.

Even though you don't keep tabs in a tracker you know every month that passes by, and Seungcheol's box turns into a decorative item by your door. 

In a way, everything you know about Seungcheol is stored in the back of your mind, and sometimes it comes back to your conscious mind like an intrusive thought.

To be honest, Seungcheol still pops up daily in your life, his voice plays in the nice book store, his face shows up in the make-up store and now he is the face of your favorite lip balm, he shows up in the tv and again in the subway, he shows up in the news and in your favorite variety show - the first time you don't actually binge watch. You know when Seungcheol is blond and when he is not, you know when his hair is long or shorter. And even if you don't want to, you keep tabs on him.

But in reality, you can deal with it, you can deal with Seungcheol's absence when he doesn't come back to make you fall in love with him. 

And it gets easier. 

Or you get used to not having Seungcheol in your life, seeing him from afar, or not seeing him at all. After 3 months you think to yourself that for the first time, you feel like a human again. Like your feet are back on the ground. You can walk without crunches for the first time after breaking both legs. 

When it hits the six-month mark you think it is okay to remember, it is okay to think about it, it was a milestone after all. When you think about buying a cake for the one-year mark you think that maybe that's not normal. 

But maybe that’s the path of healing, the ups, and downs of it, healing is not linear - you think that you saw an Instagram post about it. And you just accept it, you don’t fight anymore about how you remember Seungcheol in the silliest things, when you look at something on the street, or when you start binge-watching a new tv show. But sometimes you also don’t remember him, sometimes you can go a few days without conjuring him in your mind - but you always end up losing the game when you think to yourself how you did not think about him.

'Cause I see you I fall back into the feeling like we've just begun Tell me, ooh Are you tired of being alone? You're not the only one

When you see Seungcheol, two years later, you just laugh and take a sip of your drink. It is really crazy how Seungcheol's absence makes you forget that one of your closest friends knew Seungcheol - he was the reason why you two met in the first place.

And yet you feel surprised to see Seungcheol in the same space as you after a while. And god why do your legs buckle and why is he so good-looking?

At the same time you want to turn and run, you are so freaking obsessed with seeing Seungcheol with your own two eyes after such a long time. God. You need a drink, you need a glass of the most powerful poison, you need courage and you need strength. 

But before you can turn Seungcheol has his eye on you.

And you want to run and scream when you see him walking into you. 

"Hey," Seungcheol says and he too looks like he is fine with everything, and you think if it has always been like that if Seungcheol almost didn’t get a scratch when you always left with a broken heart and broken bones   "I-" Seungcheol laughs. "This is weird."

"Yeah," you say drinking the rest of your drink in one gulp "They didn't tell me you were coming so-"

"Do we need to continue doing that?" Seungcheol asks and you can feel your head tilting like a damn dog, and Seungcheol's tint smile across his face confirms your suspicion- he always thought it was endearing. "Avoid each other I mean," he clarifies. 

And you want to say yes because you feel so weak on your knees. You feel like you are getting pulled - physical traction makes you throw away all that you learned in the past year, making you forget how difficult it was, how painful.

"I don't know, it is not the ideal but what is the other option?" You ask and don't even wait for Seungcheol to answer you when you look around - you need another drink, you are not doing this sober, you feel yourself close to tears and you can't cry sober - drunk you at least have an excuse to bawl everything out.

"Not hating each other?" Seungcheol scoffs, and you do the same.

"Sometimes I think about how we spent four years together," you say, going to the bar with Seungcheol by your side, you order a mojito while Seungcheol just brushes the guy off. Seungcheol is so close that you can feel your brain start malfunctioning. 

"Come on, I swear I didn't try to pick a fight if you want I can go I already said my wishes to the host so-" 

"Is not that," You feel so fucking frustrated, you can feel your heart in your throat. "I just-" You breathe loudly, maybe you should let him enjoy the party and go - he was the one that didn't show up in two consecutive years. "Look this is not the time or the place for us to have this conversation but the point is I never hated you - I never could, and to be honest never wanted."

Seungcheol just looks at you, his eyes big and mouth agape. 

And you wish you could hate him because it would be easier. And because if you hated him you wouldn't question yourself if it was the right decision, if you hated him you wouldn't be thinking about letting Seungcheol back in your life.

"Hey, hey-" you hear Seungcheol's voice behind you. 

Fuck you forgot the uber, so you do your best to ignore Seungcheol and pick up your cell phone, trying to open the app fast enough just so a car teleports in the street.

"Come on I can take you home," He says and you want to laugh really, what the fuck is on his mind.

"And would I say yes to that?"

"Look," Seungcheol’s hand goes through his hair and you know he is frustrated, and a part of you relishes that, in the way that you still know him even after more than 24 months apart, "I don't know how you are doing, and this can be me being fucking egotistical, but I have been thinking you hate me for two years, so if here is not the place then we can find a place, I would say my place but that would make me sound like a jerk so-"

"Cheol," you almost beg.

"I really just want to understand what happened, fuck-" And when you look again you see Seungcheol in such a different light, he is so tired, he looks so exhausted, he looks older, but not just older he looks jaded,  "It is been plaguing my mind since we broke up I can't fuck wrap my head around-" 

"Your house then."

"Ok, ok. Just so you know I have a dog." Seungcheol says while guiding you to his car and you just feel a pang in your chest because you know how he went on and on about how he wanted a dog, how you two could get a dog, how if he wasn't so busy, and far away half of the time you two should get a dog.

And God you feel so sad, you can actually feel everything building up inside your body, you can feel it in your throat. 

You heard and heard about the dog and you were not there, and that’s all you can think about the entire trip to Seungcheol’s house.

"This is Kkuma," Seungcheol says holding the dog up, when he sees that you are not in the mood to greet the cute creature he gives up. "Is this a mistake?"

"Probably," you say, looking at his living room - god when you two dated he didn’t have his own house. How much did you miss? How many milestones in his life were you not a part of? 

"I-" Seungcheol starts, making you look at him, "I just thought we could go back to good terms you know, I've been keeping tabs on you," and you don’t know why but you feel so angry, you feel like there is something growing under your skin you can’t quite name it. "Don't look at me like that, I wanted to know how you were, how you've been doing, and when I asked about you this last time he said I could show up so I thought you knew"

"I didn't"

"Yeah, I'm sorry," he says, rubbing his palm against his pants in an attempt to dry it. "I mean for today and for everything I guess, I wasn't the best back then. I just thought-"

"What do you want from me Cheol?" You ask for the first time looking at Cheol's eyes, looking for the truth in it, searching for every little detail you can catch to make it make sense, but that just makes you crumble like a sandcastle against a wave, "I've been trying so hard- god"

"Hey, hey-" Seungcheol's hand close around your wrist, his fingers in contrast with your skin. "Don't cry please, don't cry, I always hated when you cried, hated every time I saw you in tears because of me." He says while getting closer to you, which just makes you cry a little bit more.

"I am so sorry, this was a bad idea, I can take you home if you want to," Seungcheol says with his arms around you - and god, you should've braced yourself from the impact, but you didn't and Seungcheol was just crashing into your life again.

"Yeah, and I was crazy enough to say yes to you," you say against Seungcheol's embrace and you are surprised when he picks up your muffled sounds.

"Why did you, say yes I mean" Seungcheol making space to look down at you.

"You know why Cheol," you say rolling your eyes at him.

"It's the same for me too, I guess," Seungcheol says tucking your hair behind your ears, "Maybe that's why I went after you today, fuck, that's why I talked to you really-" his lips find your forehead, and you can feel your heart in throat. You feel like your lungs are about to collapse, you can't breathe, "when I saw you I just-" He smells your hair like he used to do, his hand on your neck, his thumb caressing your jaw. "it just felt like nothing had changed"

I know it sounds fatal, I know we made fires The ending's real clear and it won't take us higher Tonight, I might need to come kamikaze Crash into your way (Kamikaze, kamikaze)

You know Seungcheol, you can tell, you can anticipate every step. With Seungcheol it is like you have the ability to see the future in your lids. With Seungcheol even when he crashes and burns makes you think to yourself that you can take the fire against your skin.

And you miss the feeling - to be understood even when you don't have words, when the silence speaks for you when Seungcheol just knows what you need before you ask for it. That's why you broke things up, you think, maybe you felt the most loved when Seungcheol would anticipate every and each one of your needs, and the moment he stopped you felt so unseen.

When Seungcheol's lips find your cheeks, just below your eyes, you can hear the sound of your heart-shattering. Your hands tighten against his sides. 

"I missed you," Seungcheol says, his forehead resting against yours. "I missed this, missed us."

"Cheol," you beg because it is the only thing you can do, the only thing you can master.

"Let me take care of you," You can feel the way his hand goes to your nape, making you shiver, "Let me make you happy."

You just nod, because that's what you want. You want it so much that you could change the earth's axis, you could change the future and the past for it. And when you feel Seungcheol's lips against yours you think that ending the world would seem like an easy task if it was to achieve Seungcheol's love, to have his touch against your skin every day.

When you wrap your arms around Seungcheol's neck you know you are done for - you know you fell in love all over again.

And you do it because it is him, because it is Seungcheol, and he is the only one who could break your heart.

"You will, won't you?" Seungcheol says mouth against your jaw, hand still against your nape holding you in place, "Let me love you?"

"Don't say things like that," you whisper, tugging on Seungcheol's shirt. 

"Why baby?" He says kissing your jaw, his hand caressing your cheek, "god, I missed this," Seungcheol says when his breath in on your neck, rubbing his nose on it. "missed how you smell," his hand holds your waist and you feel so glad because you almost melting, "missing the way you taste," he says when his tongue laps at your skin, giving you a small kiss on the kneck.

The only thing you can do is try to anchor yourself, one hand splayed against Seungcheol's back and another one tugging at his hair. Seungcheol's hand goes around you, caging you against his body, his hands finding the hem of your shirt and putting it under your shirt.

And it is just so much, the way his hands feel hot against your back, keeping you upright. The way his lips feel against your skin, wet, across your cleavage. The way that his body feels hard against yours. 

It's just so much. To have all that again, you almost forget how to breathe.

Seungcheol is so big - physically yes, but his whole existence is so big, it makes you feel suffocated. Seungcheol is so big that you question yourself how you used to fit him in your heart.

But you choose not to think about it, not know. You call his name while tugging his hair, blindly searching his mouth. And you focus on Seungcheol, the way that his tongue feels against yours, the way that he holds you, the way that you feel how hard he is against your hips.

"Let me," Seungcheol whisper against your mouth before his hand found the back of your thighs and picks your up - and you do the only thing you can do, letting out a surprised noise and hugging Seungcheol. And you can feel how Seungcheol's smiles spread against the skin of your chest.

"Don't laugh," you try to scold him, hand tugging his hair again - when he let his hair gets so long? It was a newfound joy for you.

"-m not laughing," you hear Seungcheol say against your skin, his fingers dipping in the skin of your ass. 

When your back hits the mattress, you feel like you can breathe again for the first time, Seungcheol's body away from yours. Until his hand is back on your hips, making your heart skip a beat and your lungs collapse.

"You are so pretty," he says when his hands travel up against your body, lifting your shirt, Seungcheol's lips find the skin of your stomach, his hand pressing on your ribcage. Seungcheol looks at you, his tongue on your skin, linking a strip of it. 

The thing about Seungcheol is that he still remembers. He still knows what makes you melt, makes you hot, makes you whimper. And he does it so right that makes your head spin.

Seungcheol lifts your shirt up, pooling it against your neck. "Fuck-" Seungcheol starts again and you ask yourself how he doesn't feel tongue-tied like you, "so pretty like this," his digits touch your chest when the lace of your bra ends, and it is just so faint, you lift your chest searching for his touch.

"Can I?" Seungcheol asks and you don't even know what he wants but you are nodding. He tugs on your bra, letting your boobs free. His forefinger and his middle finger find your nipple, tugging at it lightly, making you whimper. "Always loved how you are so fucking sensitive," he coos.

Seungcheol's lips find your skin again, and the way he kisses the underside of your boob is so soft and so tender that makes your head spin a little. Seungcheol lowers his body against yours, making you open your legs a little to make space for him between them. 

Seungcheol kisses your sternum at the same time that his hands wrapped around your throat, he doesn't put pressure on it. But the mere fact that his hand is splayed on your windpipe makes you lose it, make you whimper. "God, missed this too, the way you sound" 

"Cheol," you want to complain but you can't because Seungcheol just licks one of your nipples, his free hand holding you in place for him to latch on it. You don't even know what to do - it is just too much, the feel of Seungcheol's hands on your body, of his mouth against your skin. 

When his mouth leaves your nipple with a low pop, his mouth doesn't leave your skin. "Don't worry babe gonna give it to you," you hear his voice low and muffled, "Gonna give you everything."

"Want you-" you say tugging at his shirt. And you feel so hot all over, you ask yourself how did you survive without his touch for so long, how did you survive with your skin against yours.

"I know, I know” Seungcheol coos and you just melt against the hand he places against your face, when he kisses you again you know you are doomed. “Just let me eat you first," he says putting his lips just below your ear, his body heavy and hot against you, "Missed your pussy too, missed everything."

"Don't talk like that," you beg and you don't hear it, but you feel the way that Seungcheol's body reverberates with a chuckle - and you take the opportunity to tug at your own shirt and bra.

"I know you like it," Seungcheol says opening the button of your pants and tugging at each leg.

"I don't anymore," you say just because you feel like you need to pick a fight really. To look like it is harder to rip you apart at the seams, to make Seungcheol think it is not that easy to wreck you. 

To make Seungcheol think it's harder to have you again.

"I know you do," Seungcheol says lifting your leg and kissing your ankle, and you feel if it's not normal to feel so much. "I can see you do still like it." Seungcheol's voice drops and you can see his eyes on your pussy, his knuckle pressing on it over your panties, you can see how wet it feels, and god you feel so ashamed because you want it so much, and because Seungcheol knows.

You can feel how red your skin is. Seungcheol lies between your legs. He rearranges your position, opening more your legs, putting one of your thighs on his shoulder. "Don't need to lie to me," He says before slowly biting on the meat of your thigh, his hands holding you in place when you buckle. 

Seungcheol kisses your pussy over your panties and you bite on your tongue, you hold yourself back. "God, I even miss the way you smell," Seungcheol says and you feel faint - and you tug at the sheet almost crying, almost begging.

But before you say anything you feel him tugging at your panties and you don't move, you just let Seungcheol move your body to his pleasure, taking your panties off but putting your legs the same way as before. 

You feel Seungcheol digits against your folds and you bite your tongue again - trying to hold back. But when his thumb presses on your clit you can't resist calling his name. "Shh, it's okay baby," Seungcheol says before his tongue is on you, making your head spin.

You ask yourself again how you survived without him. 

Because with Seungcheol was just so easy. 

Seungcheol doesn't ask what you like he already knows.

Seungcheol knows how to pin your hips down, with his hand splayed, because you like how strong he is. Seungcheol knows how to lick your folds, how to suck on your clit, how to tease you with his fingers. 

"Can you-" you try to ask for it, but when you look down between your legs you see Seungcheol looking at you, seeking your reactions, trying to catch every little detail, and before you can ask again Seungcheol is nodding against your pussy, mouth not leaving it for a second even thoughyou are bucking your hips.

And then you feel his fingers against your entrance. And it is Seungcheol he knows how you like it, but he knows too much, he teases you first, just the knuckle against your hole.

"Seungcheol, please," you ask again, accepting that you lost the war, accepting that you can't pretend anymore because you know Seungcheol will only give you when you ask for it.

But you asked for it so he gives to you. 

He starts fucking you slowly with his fingers, his tongue never leaving your clit. 

You feel like you are going insane, it's just too much - his hand’s strong grounding your hips, the way that his mouth closes against your clit, the way that his fingers enter you, the way his eyes never leave yours.

And before you can say anything you are cumming against his tongue, Seungcheol laps at it like he wants to feel your taste on his tongue, like he wants every drop of it.

"Always loved your mouth." You say before Seungcheol kisses you and you can taste yourself on his tongue.

Seungcheol lifts his body, kneeling on the mattress, and finally takes his shirt off, "wait," you call for him, and you look at him. And god he is so fucking pretty all over. He always has been. You touch him, hands against his stomach, and you wish you can make him feel like he does to you. 

You sit on the bed, Seungcheol's position making him taller than you, but it is not a problem when the difference makes it easier to kiss his pecs. And Seungcheol holds the back of your neck, his eyes again, never leaving you, making sure he sees every tiny fraction of every little touch. 

You don't know if you actually forgot, or, if you just locked the memories away in a tiny part of your brain, but when you see Seungcheol so pilant against your touch - against one of your hands on his stomach, the other touching his pecs and mouth sucking at his skins it is like it's unlock something on you.

"Did you miss it?" You ask hand working on Cheol's pants, palming him in the process.

"Hun?" He asks voice low, like he didn't catch the meaning behind the question.

"The way I make you feel," you answer, hand underneath his underwear, touching his hard dick. "Did you miss it?" You ask again, looking Seungcheol in the eyes.

"So fucking much," he answers and you can see how his body reacts to every single touch you give him, you lower Seungcheol's underwear, just enough so his cock springs free - red and leaking, and God you wish you could forget how many time Seungcheol split you open with his dick, but you can't, you think you remember each and every time, "Thought about it every day."

"Can you fuck me?" You ask Seungcheol, fingers wrapped around his dick, pumping him slowly, thumb rubbing against his tip, and you can see his body twitch, but Seungcheol just lets you do whatever you want with him.

"How do you want me?" he asks.

"You know how," you say it because it is true. Seungcheol knows how to eat you, how to fuck you, how to split you open, he knows how to make you feel good, and how to make you cry. 

"Come on," He says hand on your shoulder making you lay down again, and you whine because the action made you set his dick free "You asked me to fuck you" his hands wrap around your leg and make your body turn to the side. 

And it is just so hot, how Seungcheol can manhandle you, can make you turn and move, but still cave into every and each one of your whims. You ask and he answers it. You ask him to jump and he asks how high. 

Seungcheol lays on the bed, his front pressed against your back, his strong arms around you, his lips against your neck, his dick against your ass. 

Your mind goes back to how big Seungcheol is, how he doesn't let space for anyone else.

But you come back to reality when you feel Seungcheol's dick going against your pussy. Seungcheol mumbles against the skin of your shoulder, but you are so gone that you don't actually pay attention to it. 

When Seungcheol starts fucking you you are halfway there. You hold Seungcheol's arms, your nails marking his skin. "You take me so fucking well," Seungcheol says before his teeth find the flesh of your shoulder. "Do you need-" You don't let him finish, tugging at his hair, searching for his mouth - and the kiss is messy and sloppy, and when Seungcheol's fingers find your pussy again you just moan on his mouth.

"Are you-" Seungcheol asks, and you know what he wants to say in the way his hips fall in rhythm the way his other hand tightens against your ass, the way with every stroke he goes deeper and deeper. And you nod because it is the truth, you are so close to it that you feel like your bones are melting.

And you just let it hit you, let the wave of the orgasm wash over your body. And you know Seungcheol is close by the way he pants against your neck, by the way, his strong hands hold your thigh - until you feel him cum on you.

You can feel your heart beating against your chest. You can feel the way Seungcheol's dick slips off you, and the way your back feels sweaty against his chest. You squirm a little trying to put some distance between your bodies.

"Stay," Seungcheol murmurs against your shoulder while enveloping you in his embrace, tugging you closer and you do. You stay because Seungcheol still makes you fall in love with him every single chance he gets, but your mind is still wrapped around the feeling that maybe, you two, are not meant to be, one of the lovers that could be so fucking beautiful and that marked your life, that is a before Seungcheol and after Seungcheol in your life.

But, deep down you know, that you just got tired of asking for more.

Now you don't want a lover that you need to ask for it - even though you know Seungcheol would never say no to you, but for once, you think that you want someone who gives to you without being asked for.

I love the beginning, the moonlight is calling I know we'll go up but we'll end up freefalling

[screamingcrows]

Back at it with not 50-word shitposts. I need to learn moderation. Dottore x gn reader, soft and established relationship. 400 words of word vomit.

"You're writing again," the words had slipped your tongue before thought could intervene.

Zandik's hand froze for a moment, stretching the letter a little further than necessary and disrupting the orderly chaos that already inhabited the page. As always, he bore no mask in your shared space, leaving nothing between you and the dark garnets now seeking out every secret you held.

"I am always writing."

His sneer caught you unaware for but a moment until you saw the look in his eyes.

'I have to. I have to write it all down, there's too much in my head. If I don't have it as something tangible I'll forget and it'll all be gone. Wasted'

It had taken years of observation before you were finally able to distinguish what he wanted everyone to see and what was true. For all his obsession with laying bare the truth, he guarded his secrets fiercely.

"That's the notebook I gave you," you knew better than jump to conclusions with him, instead schooling your expression and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"They are private matters."

A smile tugged at your lips, the feeling of his soft cerulean locks tickling your skin. He'd grown so much more used to being touched with care, actively seeking it out even if his pride would never see an admission pass his tongue.

"Private matters best discussed with yourself?"

Time had been a scarce resource as of late. More often than not, Dottore would return in the dead of night, barely waking you with the dip of the mattress. Likewise, Zandik would rouse and leave before your eyes had opened, nothing left but a fleeting feeling and the swiftly cooling sheets.

The light thud as he closed the book had your thoughts returning to the present, to the way his crooked fingers trailed along the leather, his shoulders sagging as if fate rested there alone.

"Perhaps not, but easiest," his voice had lost all previous bite, soft words accompanying the hand that gently took yours.

Chapped lips pressed against soft skin, lingering for a moment before he released it. No words had to pass, not anymore. It took only a moment of thought and a light tug at his shoulders before he stood, joints cracking in protest from how long he'd been hunched over in that chair.

Sleep did not come early that night, instead, you spent hours wrapped up between his legs, back against his chest as he told you everything that had been cluttered in his mind of late. Neither of you could've wished for more.

[say-al0e]

For You

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18, Minors, DNI!

Summary: Sometimes Jake gets a little in his head and needs a hand coming back to earth. You’re more than happy to give him what he needs. | Ft. Anon Requests: “How many times have you jerked off to me?” + “Touch yourself. Show me how you do it.” + “Use my thigh. You’ve been staring at it all night, anyway.”

Warnings: A little angsty Hangman (feeling a little lost, a little out of it), male masturbation, thigh riding. Anything else, ask and I’ll tag.

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x fem!Reader (wife!Reader)

Word Count: 4.1k

Top Gun Taglist | Top Gun Masterlist

Jake has never been much of a control freak.

Given the nature of his work, he’s learned to willingly follow orders and do what he’s told - sometimes without question, even when he knows he should ask. He prides himself on being good at what he does, the beset of the best, and he’s learned to bite his tongue when need be.

However, there are moments he seeks to regain some of the control he loses in his daily life.

In the bedroom, Jake enjoys taking control. He’s always liked calling the shots, asking you to jump and grinning when you ask him how high, which works well as you like relinquishing some of the control you cling almost too tightly to in your own work.

Jake is never mean - unless you ask him to be - and will always listen to your concerns, your opinions, your desires. There is never a moment where his control feels absolute, like he won’t take your feelings into consideration, but it helps ease some of the weight on his chest when you allow him to press you into the mattress and take what he needs.

Tonight, however, it is evident that control is not what Jake needs.

Though his week has been full of people telling him what to do, where to go, who to be, his lack of control isn’t what weighs so heavily on his chest. A frustration comes with hearing so many orders barked at him, repeated time and again for those who refused to listen the first time, and you’ve seen firsthand how overwhelming it can be.

When the noise of the week fades, when there is no structure, Jake sometimes gets a little lost. It’s a side of him that only you see but it’s still heartbreak to watch as he wanders, searching the house for something to do - something to make himself feel useful, needed - while you search for ways to help him return to himself.

It’s not often that he feels this way. He’s learned to handle it, to work through the sort of depersonalization that comes with living a life controlled by so many others, but the signs are always there.

This time, the first sign comes in the form of him tackling the to-do list you’ve both been putting off.

The new house came with its fair share of work to be done - a few little repairs, nothing a little paint and elbow grease can’t fix - and Jake spends his rare Friday off working through them one by one. And by the time you arrive home from work, the house smells of paint and you find your husband sitting on the bathroom floor, swapping out the knobs on the cabinet.

A second, much more obvious sign, comes in the form of silence.

Jake likes music - country, usually - to fill the quiet, especially on the odd occasion he’s home alone. This time, the only sound you hear is that of tools touching wood, hitting the floor when he sets them down, and the rattle of screws as he pulls the second knob from the package.

The third, and the most telling sign, comes in the form of his obliviousness.

On the odd occasion Jake has a day off that you don’t, or finds himself home before you arrive, he seems to be aware of your presence the moment you step through the door. It’s rare that he allows you to make it more than a few feet into your home before he’s greeting you. So, the fact that you make it through the house, to the bathroom, and settle in the doorway, all without him batting an eye, tells you more than you need to know.

“Y’know, a girl can get used to this.”

Jake flinches, clearly surprised by your presence, but manages to cover it with a grin as he glances up at you. His eyes, a touch more exhausted than usual, brighten considerably as they meet yours. “I’m just here to fulfill all your domestic fantasies, sweetheart,” he teases, gesturing to the smear of paint staining his hand. “Knocked out most of the list today.” He stands, dropping the wrench onto the countertop with a clatter, and makes his way to you, just a fraction slower than usual. “Figured we can go look for furniture for the deck tomorrow, maybe stop at that little cafe you like for lunch.”

As his hands fall to your waist, fingers dipping beneath the hem of your top almost immediately, you smile. “I just got home and you’re already talking dirty.” When your hands lift to his hair, fingers combing through the soft strands, Jake tilts his head to lean into your touch. His laughter is quiet, accompanied by a more subdued grin - not quite as bright, not quite as rakish as his usual - and you struggle to hide your frown as you lean in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “How can I ever repay you?"

“If you wanted to blow me, I absolutely won’t deny you the pleasure.”

Jake grins at the roll of your eyes, this one truly lighting his eyes, and squeezes your hips as he leans in to press a firmer kiss to your mouth. It’s still chaste, not quite enough to convince you that he’s truly alright, but enough to give you hope that he just needs a moment of thoughtlessness.

“Maybe after dinner, handsome,” you offer, not bothering to clue him in to the plan already beginning to formulate in the back of your mind. “Takeout okay?”

The answering frown you receive is further confirmation that he’s not totally gone - not so far out of it that he’s completely lost sense of himself. “It’s date night,” he reminds you, almost appalled that you seem to have forgotten. “Thought we were trying out that Korean place?”

“I was hoping we could stay in. Order takeout, maybe watch a movie? It’s been a long week.”

For a split second, you worry that he’ll refuse - he takes date night seriously, loves seeing you all dressed up and showing you off - but his features soften the moment you bat your lashes at him. “Kills me when you do that,” he grumbles, though there is no real heat behind his statement. “But you know I’ll never say no to having you all to myself, sweetheart.”

Despite all the bravado, all the snark and witty quips, you know the real Jake. A man who wants to love and be loved in return, a man who will give you the world if you ask - your husband is wrapped around your finger, just as you are wrapped around his, and makes it all too easy for you to set about helping him back to himself.

Most of the night passes rather quickly after that. A shower for each of you - separately, as you know exactly where a joint shower will lead you - before you consume too much takeout and watch the same movie you’ve both seen a thousand times.

Every gesture is small - ordering his favorite food and grinning when he opens it, groaning at the scent; choosing his favorite movie, without even bothering to ask because you know he’ll attempt to sway you into your favorite; grabbing him a beer before he can question if he needs another, placing it onto the coffee table with a wink - but each one seems to ease his mind just a little more.

And as the night wears on, your Jake begins to return, piece by piece.

The final gesture, one that you know will bring him back to you wholly, comes when you send him to the bedroom with a request for him to wait for you.

Control is not something he fears losing, not something he finds difficult to relinquish, in his daily life. The bedroom has always proved a little more difficult. Jake listens, asks you what you want and gives it to you easily, but the orders he takes are always in the pursuit of your pleasure. Taking orders in the pursuit of his own, he still struggles. 

Over the years, you’ve learned how to take control in a way that feels selfish. You give him the illusion of control by giving him your full attention. Giving orders in a way that feels like a request, a selfish plea for something you know he wants but has a hard time freely giving, works best with Jake.

He loves your attention, placed solely on him, and loves your praise even more. Every boost to his ego, every reminder of just how perfect you think he is, just how much you love the man he sometimes forgets he can be, helps bring him back. So, you decide to take a gamble.

When you step into the bedroom, you find Jake settled at the head of the bed with his back pressed to the headboard. The weight of his gaze is heavy, burns into your skin as he watches you settle at the foot of the bed. Those warm green eyes meet yours and you can read the amusement in them, hidden amidst thinly veiled confusion, as he waits for you to provide him with an answer as to what you want.

This certainly isn’t what he had in mind for date night, clearly isn’t where he pictured the night ending, but he makes no move to protest as you offer him what you hope to be a reassuring smile as you fold your hands over your lap.

“How many times have you jerked off to me?”

The question is quiet, almost timid as you nearly second-guess yourself, but it earns a puff of surprised laughter from Jake. His brows lift as he blinks. No matter where he imagined the night heading, this isn’t it, but he only dwells on his surprise for a brief moment before tilting his head to get a good look at you.

“Lost count after that first deployment.”

His answer is teasing, accompanied by the brightest grin you’ve received all day, and you can feel your cheeks burn as he eyes the exposed skin of your thighs. When you chose your nightly attire, you played dirty - opting for a t-shirt, stolen from his drawer, and a pair of soft but presentable panties you knew he’d like once he caught sight of them - and you can tell just how much he appreciates it as his gaze falls to the soft blue fabric.

That deployment was particularly hard for you both as it saw you going from sleeping together nearly every night to little contact for three months, but Jake clearly remembers one difficulty above the rest. “I looked at those Polaroids more than you’ll believe,” he admits with a smirk, “but no matter how many times I got off, my hand was never enough. You created a monster, sweetheart.”

Jake’s honesty can be his detriment at times - blunt, wielded like a weapon to protect his heart from hurt - but it can also be his greatest strength. There is no room for sugarcoating, not with you, and you believe him wholeheartedly as he lifts his eyes to meet yours.

“Will you show me?”

The request earns a brilliant smile, the clearest indicator that your plan seems to be working, as Jake searches your face for any sign of deceit. The only thing he finds is honesty, a clear longing - a desire to see him, to selfishly watch as he seeks his own high.

“Show you what?” He wants you to say it - has encouraged you to speak up, to be vulgar, to be specific. This is expected, something you can see coming from a mile away, but it gives him the illusion of control as you bat your lashes and feign bashfulness.

“Touch yourself.” Another quiet plea - order, hidden behind doe eyes and pouted lips - that sees Jake inhaling sharply. “Show me how you do it,” you request, fingers finding the hem of your top, “please, Jake.”

Jake tries to hide just how affected he is, just how eager he is to give you what you’re asking for, but you can see right through him as he shakes his head. “Can’t believe my girl’s a voyeur,” he teases with a grin, even as he allows his hand to fall to the soft cotton waistband of his sweatpants. “You wanna watch, pretty girl?”

A soft nod from you has him licking his lips, tongue darting out to drag across the plush lower lip, while his hand drifts lower to palm his hardening cock. Despite the weight you know he’s felt pressing on his shoulders all week, Jake seems far more at ease than he has been with your heated gaze following his every movement.

It’s clear that he thrives on your attention, on your quiet pleas to witness his pleasure, and you give him exactly what he seems to want.

The sight before you is, on any given day, almost overwhelming. It seems that no matter how many times you look at him, no matter how many times you’re given the opportunity to witness him in this state, it never gets old.

Jake has a habit of wandering the house shirtless, sun kissed skin on full display, and you’re shameless as you trace the expanse of his exposed skin. The width of his shoulders, his chest; the planes of his stomach, the light trail of hair disappearing beneath the band of his sweatpants - every inch of him is beautiful and you can’t help the soft sigh that escapes as you commit every inch of his torso to memory.

“You could take a picture,” Jake teases, drawing your attention back to his face. The green of his eyes is darkening, slowly giving way to a lustful black, but that smirk remains as his hand squeezes his bulge. “Might last longer.”

“I have some,” you remind him, grinning at the thought of the photos hidden in your phone. “Just wanna see you tonight.”

“Well, how am I supposed to say no to that?” Jake shifts then, slips his hands beneath the fabric of his sweatpants and tugs. As he shoves the fabric down his legs, kicks it off to the side, his cock springs free and slaps against his stomach. 

Another sight that you have yet to grow used to, despite the number of times you’ve seen him. Your eyes fall to his cock, flushed red, as another sigh falls from your lips. The sight of him, thighs parted slightly and heavy cock resting against his stomach, captures your attention.

“You’re so pretty, Jake.”

A light dusting of pink coats his cheeks, spreads down the column of his throat to the top of his chest, even as he laughs. “Why don’t you give me something pretty to look at? I’m feelin’ a little exposed, here.” It’s teasing - Jake has no qualms about nudity, would likely wander around the house naked, if you allowed him - but you know what he’s asking for and give it to him with no hesitation.

Eager green eyes follow your every movement as you shuck your - his - shirt and the panties you chose, special for him. “Is this what you think about, when you touch yourself?”

Jake extends his hand, once again asking without words, and smiles when you lean forward to give him what he wants. You’re guiding, not controlling, and he seems to understand as his hand lazily falls to his cock. While he considers your question, his lips part in a sharp exhale at the first pass of his spit slick palm.

“You, naked? Absolutely.” His voice is a hint tighter than usual, though nowhere near as brittle as you know it can be in the throes of passion. “You’re usually under me,” he continues, grinning when you shift to get a better look at him as his hand slowly strokes the length of his cock. “Always ends the same, though.”

“How’s that?”

His chest rises and falls just a touch faster than normal, breath comes in sharper pants as his lips part, but those eyes remain fixed on you. Even as your gaze wanders, drifts between his face to his hand to his thighs - tensing with each brush of his thumb over the head of his cock as it begins to leak pre-cum - before falling shut for a brief moment, his never falters. He watches, attention rapt, as you fist the sheets and await his answer.

“That pretty little cunt, dripping with my come.”

The intention was not to touch yourself, not to allow your fingers to slip between your spread thighs even as slick gathered, but Jake makes it difficult. He knows what he’s doing, knows exactly what you want to hear, and you struggle to keep up the facade as you bite back a whimper.

“Is it always this slow?”

The question is forced between clenched teeth, nearly spat at him as you cling desperately to your train of thought, and it makes Jake laugh, even as his stomach tightens with a particularly rough stroke of his palm.

“No. Just figured I’d give you time to look.” He raises an eyebrow then, expression so smug it nearly makes you want to roll your eyes - would have, were it not exactly what you were hoping to see, the kind of cocksure Jake attitude you were fishing for - as he pauses with his hand wrapped around the base. “Gonna take advantage of the show or are you testing your willpower?”

“Wanted to focus on you. Always so hard to focus on how pretty you are when you’re making me see stars.”

There are moments you refuse to stroke his ego, refuse to confirm what he already knows to be true, but the light that brightens his eyes with every word makes it all worth it. He needs this, needs to be reminded of who he is - how loved he is - so you’ll take any amount of preening, just so long as your husband returns to you fully.

Jake’s eyes narrow playfully. “Is it my birthday?” His tone is exaggeratedly suspicious, teasing, and manages to make you laugh, even as you watch him resume his slow strokes. “You’re bein’ a little too nice to me, sugar.”

“I’m always nice to you.” Jake laughs at the defensive bite, the pout of your lips. He knows that to be true - knows you’re nice to him, knows just how much you love him - but he can’t help the playful raising of his brows.

“Mm, I know.” The acknowledgement is accompanied by a soft sigh as his thumb brushes the head of his cock, smears the slick beginning to drip, and a grin as you repeat the sound. “Should repay the favor. Help you get off, too,” he encourages, splaying his thighs just a touch wider as he beckons you forward with his free hand. “C’mere, darlin’. Use my thigh. You’ve been starin’ at it all night, anyway.”

When you hesitate, not wanting to intrude on the moment - regardless of the slick pooling between your thighs and the ache of your neglected clit - Jake laughs. “Don’t make me beg.”

“What if I want you to?” Even as the question spills past your lips, you clamber up the bed to settle over him. Your knee slots between his spread thighs as you finally lift your gaze to meet his. “Would you?”

“You know I’ll give you whatever you want.” Jake is honest, almost to a fault, and you know just how sincerely he means it. He’ll do whatever he can to make you happy, even if it’s something he once struggled with, but your bid for control - your attempt to guide him back to himself - has gotten you both where you need to be.

Instead of pushing, instead of asking him to beg, you lower yourself on his thigh and sigh at the pressure. “I’ll prove how nice I can be,” you quip, voice nowhere near as strong as you hope for it to be. “No begging this time.”

“An absolute angel.” Jake tenses his thigh then, gaze fixated on your face as his free hand falls to your hip. “Look like one, anyway.”

The feeling of his thigh between your own, the pressure against your clit as you lower yourself completely, pulls a soft moan from your lips. Even as you attempt to return your focus to him, to watch the way his hand wraps around his cock a little tighter - the way he drags his fist just a little faster -  Jake captures your attention by leaning in to press his lips to yours.

“Jake.”

He swallows your whine, the disappointed huff, with a smile that you can feel as the hand on your hip guides you to move faster. His tongue traces your bottom lip, nips at the supple flesh when you refuse to open your mouth, and huffs in playful annoyance.

“This isn’t very nice, sweetheart.”

“And you’re not giving me what I want, honey.” That draws a laugh from him, a bright grin that reaches his eyes, even as he relents and returns his head to the headboard.

“Fine. Watch. Want a kiss - a real one - when I come,” he demands, though he knows you’ll never deny him such a request.

Jake falls quiet after his demand, returns his focus to your face - to the way your lips part, the way your brows scrunch as you attempt to find a rhythm that feels best - and the way your hips move as you straddle his thigh. Your attention falls to his hand, watching intently as he focuses his attention on the head of his cock.

As Jake’s thumb gathers slick, uses it to ease the drag of his palm, you grind harder and attempt to chase a high you doubt will come. There is no worry, you know that he’ll make up for it, so you lift your hands to his hair and tug at the soft strands.

“Come for me, Jake,” you encourage, batting your lashes at him as you watch his eyes begin to blink just a touch faster. “Please? Wanna see it. Look so pretty when you come.”

To see him fall over the edge is a sight you’ll never tire of.

Though Jake is always beautiful, always a sight to behold, watching him on the verge of an orgasm is otherworldly. His focus begins to fade, begins to turn entirely to the impending warmth of his orgasm, and you pause the rocking of your hips to soak it all in.

Jake’s eyes flutter shut as his head falls back, column of his throat exposed as his chest begins to heave. A few soft sounds escape, a quiet moan, a soft grunt, join the slick sound of his hand wrapping around his cock. It takes only a few short moments - in which time a flush covers his face, his neck, his chest - before he tumbles over the edge.

Ropes of come splash onto his stomach, his hand, as he falls over the edge with a low, punched out sound that has your thighs clenching - goes straight to your aching clit, nearly sends you pressing your fingers between your thighs in search of a better friction.

While he rides it out, you lean in and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “So pretty,” you whisper, voice muffled by his skin. “So good. Always so good for me, honey. Love to see you come for me.”

A breathless laugh escapes, quiet but easily discernible even as he attempts to turn his head. “Can say the same for you, darlin’,” he returns, tone almost reverent as he seeks your mouth. “Gimme a few minutes and I’ll get you off.”

Jake is a man of his word, never one to leave you hanging, so you leave it. Allow the comment to linger as you shift your head and press your mouth to his. The kiss is soft, chaste, but it’s exactly what he wants as the hand he’d left on your hip lifts to cradle your jaw.

This Jake is the one you love best - pleasure softened, unbothered by the weight of the world - and you know that he’s well on his way back to the husband you know and love. It takes a little time, a little effort, but you can see the light return to his eyes as he presses his forehead to yours.

Worry always lingers, settles in the pit of your stomach, but you know that you’ll always be home. A place he can feel safe, free from the demands of work, and a place to regain a little of the control he lacks - a little of the self he loses outside the confines of your home.

And as he presses one final kiss to your mouth, fingers pressing into your skin, you know that you’ll do whatever you can just for him.

____________________________________________

Author’s Note: I don’t remember the last time I wrote a fic in present tense but it was a fun challenge. Would’ve waited to post tomorrow but I’m going out with a friend so figured I’d get this up tonight. :)

Taglist: @lulu-noodles, @holachicos, @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth, @withakindheartx, @ssprayberrythings, @verin93, @totalwitch2, @malindacath, @alexparkxr, @hangmandruigandmav, @alexxavicry, @calicokel, @jaymum, @dracosluvbot, @little-wiseone, @specialk6802, @mandylove1000, @xlynnx07, @julesclues, @archetypesoflife, @oliviah-25, @benhardysdrumstick, @caatheeriinee07, @prettymucheveryothernamewastaken, @yvespoems, @chloereidwayne, @flower-name​, @ccristata​, @feltonswifesworld87​, @mxdi0​, @angellwingggs, @s00buwu​, @mjsvinyl​, @woodlandmouth​, @hngmnslver​, @wifey-halstead​, @pr3ttyr0s3xs, @winchester126, @peoniarose​, @hangmanscoming​, @maybankive​, @cas1fer​, @saesire

[cerise-on-top]

i you write some fiancee hcs for Ghost, Soap, Alejandro, Graves and Gaz please? Tysm <3

I'm not even sure if I'll write requests anymore, but this one actually helped me focus on something more uplifting. That was a pretty cute request, not even gonna lie. Besides, I have no idea what to write on my own anymore either way. Again, fully SFW and gender neutral. But also: I have no idea what being engaged actually means, so this might be somewhat inaccurate.

Fiancé HCs for Gaz, Ghost, Soap, Alejandro, Graves

Gaz: While actually fairly open to physical affection, you should be aware that he’ll ramp it up by so much more once you’re engaged. He’s a fairly strong guy, so expect him to pick you up from time to time as well and spin you around. It’s still surreal to him that you’re going to get married to each other soon enough. He always took care of you, making sure all your needs are met, regardless of that being food, comfort or maybe a fun outing. But now? While he may have been able to suppress a smile here and there to seem serious enough, ever since you’re engaged he’ll eventually think of you being his spouse and him being your husband. It makes him smile every single time. As your fiancé it’s his job to open all the doors for you, make sure you can easily and comfortably sit on the chairs and keep you safe from any and all weirdos around. He’s not usually the biggest fan of PDA, keeping it to a reasonable amount, but sometimes he does get overwhelmed with love for you and needs to let it out lest he implodes. He gives you a certain look, a certain lovestruck smile, before going in to hold your hand, or even kiss it. Not everyone needs to know you’re engaged, but you need to know how much adoration he has for you. And don’t you ever doubt yourself or your relationship with him. As your soon-to-be-husband there’s no stopping him anymore. Might sometimes blanket burrito you when he feels like it just to see you stick your tongue out at him before carrying you to bed because “that’s what he’s supposed to do”.

Ghost: He may seem calm about all of this on the outside, but on the inside? Giddy enough to cloud his judgment for a fraction of a second. He’s always had a watchful eye over you, ever since he was smitten. His gaze visibly softens whenever you’re near. It gets to a point where Price, Gaz and Soap know something is up without him even telling them anything. Is more inclined to show you physical affection now, but his main love language lies elsewhere: acts of service and quality time. Ghost needs his alone time every once in a while, but when he’s had his fill of that he’ll gravitate towards you. You’re the brightest star in his life, if there’s one person he wants to see as often as possible, it’s you. Besides, you could literally tell him to do anything. You want affection? You want him to play something as silly as Stardew Valley with you? You wanna hear him sing the worst song in existence? Yeah, some requests will get him to shake his head and make him mutter something audibly, but he’s more than happy to do it. You telling him to do something makes him feel useful and appreciated, just as he should. Sometimes he’ll simply stare at you for a moment, that’s when he’s wrestling himself trying to give you a hug or a kiss. Beckon him over while you’re making him breakfast just to peck his cheek, he’ll try to bite back a smile and fail every time.

Soap: Becomes more mischievous once he’s your fiancé. If he can get you to stomp your foot or pout at him because he scared you again, he’s a happy man. However, he will make it up to you. Not the best cook, but he can make a meal or two well, and that’s what he’s gonna make for you. So many more hugs and kisses, if he could he’d merge with you. Despite not being the best slow dancer, he’ll learn how to do the blues just for you. It’s romantic, it’s sweet, it’s perfect. Don’t expect him to always follow your lead, however. He’s more inclined to being passive once you’re engaged, he’s certain since you’re going to get married you’re not going to leave him. Thus he lets his walls down a bit and lets you be the bigger person from time to time as well. Wouldn’t ever say it out loud, but if you’re strong enough to catch and or carry him, he’ll tackle hug you. Is loud and proud about the two of you being engaged, the entire world will know. Even if he doesn’t say it out loud, he needs your neighbor to know you’re engaged. A lot more touchy in public because of it, but will tone it down if you ask him to. There’s barely any stopping him in private, though. Smothers you in love, physical affection is very important to him.

Alejandro: Tries to hold himself back and tease you from time to time. He’s not giving you the cake batter? Pretends he didn’t buy you that fruit you asked him to? Won’t give you a little kiss? Tell him that he’s making you so sad, he’ll crack every single time and give in. A lot more giddy around you as well. While he does want to tell a lot of people that you’re engaged, only the ones closest to him get that privilege. However, if some creep gets too close to you he can and will throw hands, he’s not a colonel for nothing. While he may not be insecure, he just wants you to know how much he loves you and wants you to be his. In the same vein, he also wants to be yours, naturally. Give him a kiss, instead of one you’ll get three in return. Buy him a small plushie, you’ll get the biggest one he can find. Be sappy with him, he’ll listen to you, give you his own, honest and unfiltered thoughts and do everything he can to make sure that smile stays on your face. He’s an honest and committed man, give him the command and he’ll split the oceans just for you. You’re the only one he’ll always listen to, no matter what. It becomes more apparent once you’re engaged, but that just shows his resolve to make you a happy person.

Graves: Once you’re engaged, he’ll spoil you even more rotten than he usually does. He’s a bit more traditional like that and believes the big, strong man should be the main provider. While he may not expect you to give him anything but your unconditional love in return, if you even get him something small he’ll be smitten. He does fantasize about him coming home from a mission to you cooking him a meal. Make it happen and he’ll be all over you, muttering about how much he loves you and how great you are. There’s a chance you might have to remind him there’s food on the stove. Yes, he’s also big on physical affection, he’s not afraid to show you either. Sometimes he thinks about your name with his last name and he immediately grows soft. Will call you by his last name, but he could be convinced to conjoin your names together. So much more smiley, it’s unreal. Picks you up and holds you against some source of light, he just loves the halo it will form around you, it doesn’t matter if you’re shorter or taller than him, it looks good on you. Not usually a sap, but the chances increase tremendously the closer you’re getting to the date you’re getting married. Although his Shadows will know when he’s getting married, the ones closest to him will know something good is about to happen before he even tells them as he becomes much more chipper and lively. He might be a pretty good boss already, but he becomes much more lenient and praises even more once you’ve become engaged.