#next i work on showing you what every one of these looks like

[indulgentdaydream]

protective!jason hcs or blurb 🥰

Ok so I kinda touched on these in my latest fic but anyways i WILL elaborate bc those were just background

We all know that man is touch starved. We ALL know it.

We also all know he’s hesitant with sharing touch

It’s only once you both have been dating for a bit already, maybe three months in, that he really starts to show his protectiveness through his touch

Or at least when you notice it

He’s always at least holding your hand as you guys walk around Gotham. Depending on exactly whereabouts in Gotham is when he changes whether he’s between you and the road, or you and the alleyways.

You watched him change it up one time halfway through your shared walk, him letting go of your left hand, stepping behind you and around to grab your right instead.

“Oh? So you want me to get hit by a car and die?”

Jason only keeps his eyes on the passing buildings and the ones coming up, “The chance of that is much lower than somebody trying to mug you in this area, love.”

One day you’re both out at the bar together. He’s sitting on a stool behind you as you babble to oke of yours friends.

From over their shoulder, you see a man approaching, but don’t think anything of it.

Suddenly, you see the man stop in his tracks, freezing. You glance over at him. He looks terrified. He glances at you, his original target, then behind you again. He spins on his heel and walks back the way he came.

You look behind you, feeling Jason’s hand still resting on your hip. You almost feel a little scared yourself, seeing that killer glare that Jason’s pointing at the guy’s back.

He switches immediately the second he looks down to you, a soft smile and kind eyes, not a hint of the previous bloodlust a mere second ago. “What?” He asks, like watching his expression change wasn’t the biggest turn on in the world.

You’re sitting in your apartment at your desk typing away on your laptop. You’re trying to file your taxes, and Jason had come over to help you with it (surprisingly he knows how even though he’s still legally dead at this point and hasn’t had to pay any taxes. Ever.)

He had stood and was wondering around your room a bit while he waited for you to fill the next part out. You can hear shuffling, but you’re too focused to tune into it.

“Jay? What does this line mean?”

Jason grunts for a moment and you hear your window slide open.

You turn back around, “Jay?”

“One second.” He shuts your window again. You watch as he fiddles with the lock before easily sliding the window back open. He throws his hands in the air and looks at you. “How long have you lived here?”

You shrug, confused, “You helped me move in.”

Jason waves his hand through the air, “When?”

“Almost a year? Last November.”

Jason fiddles with the window again, slamming it back down, “This lock doesn’t work. You been sleeping in here and anyone could’ve just broken in?”

You shrug again, “I didn’t know it was broken! I don’t really lock my window often.”

Jason looks like he almost broke his neck by how fast his head whipped back to you, “You don’t lock your window????”

He finishes your taxes for you before he leaves, saying he’ll be back. Within the hour he’s knocking on your door again, a duffle bag in hand full of power tools, screws, and different assortments of heavy duty locks. He spends the rest of the night installing them.

A new one on your bedroom window that actually consisted of two different locks. A similar two on your kitchen window. Another three on your bedroom door itself. Then four on your front door.

As he leaned over your kitchen sink, screwing in the lock and blocking your way as you tried to make you both dinner.

“Is this really necessary?”

“I’m not having you practically open to every bad thing the city has to offer, love.”

“Then how are you going to come in through my window now?”

“I’ll learn to knock.”

That’s all I can think of right now okay byeee

[andavs]

Seriously, does Eddie know what Kim unintentionally did to him?

I'm not trying to absolve him of everything that just happened because he was the one to go back to the store and talk to her in the first place. He continued to see her at least a few times, so that part is entirely on him—but he also came clean with her and ended it. It was over and done with.

But he brought her to his home to explain and she came back later to ambush him. She used the photos he showed her to dress up exactly like his dead wife—maybe it was just some careful styling, but it looked like she even dyed the white streak in her hair. He opened up about the faults in their marriage and she threw his own words back at him to push him into engaging with her. Everything he shared with her, she twisted and used against him.

Even with nothing but good intentions, Kim is a fucking actress! She is not in any way qualified to guide him through something like that! She broke him open while he repeatedly asked her to stop, unintentionally blew his life up, and then left him there in pieces. And he couldn’t even begin to process what just happened because Chris walked in.

Yeah, Eddie could’ve slammed the door in Kim’s face from the start or told her to get out, but even if he had, would she have left? She was determined to do this “for him” and didn’t take no for an answer. He could barely even look at her, but she kept pushing until she struck a nerve. 

That was such a fucked up thing that Kim did, yet Eddie defends her and blames himself completely in the aftermath. He was so messed up and wracked with guilt and worry about Chris that he couldn’t even properly explain what happened. He talks around it while blaming himself for everything, to the point where it sure as hell seems like Buck thinks they had sex while Kim pretended to be Shannon, and Eddie was fully into it.

In the episode before when he first confronted Eddie about her, Buck specifically clarified, “You haven't had sex.” And Eddie said, “Exactly, that’s not even what I want from her.”

And then when Eddie’s trying to explain, Buck says “And what wasn't happening between you two ended up happening.”

Buck thinks they had sex—or were at least making out—and Chris walked in when in reality, Eddie was pushed into a breakdown by the ghost of his dead wife about how he's broken and unfixable and alone. And I don’t know what that misunderstanding means, or if it’ll even end up being relevant! Will Eddie actually tell him what happened, or will he lock that away too?

Eddie’s made so much progress with opening up to people since his breakdown, but this time every single thing he shared got used against him and started a chain reaction that has left him completely alone with nothing. His son is gone, and his parents were there just long enough to convince him that he’s a terrible father screwing up Chris like they screwed up Eddie, which is what Eddie’s always worked hardest to avoid. The one remaining good thing in his life was the 118, and even that’s going to be terrible under Gerrard.

Either next season is going to be equal parts brutal and magnificent on the Eddie front, or it’s going to be incredibly disappointing.

[mr2swap]

The great shift: a stinking symbiotic relationship

I came home empty-handed, I hadn't even been able to get a job as a cashier at McDonald's, but I can't blame them who would hire an overweight middle-aged man like me... A lot of things are different since the Great Shift, but I guess that some things remain the same, I opened the door to my apartment and the first thing I looked at was my old body sitting on the couch with an annoyed look.

-Dude, What the fuck? You were supposed to be here 35 minutes ago, my phone is blowing up with messages on our subscribers! You know them, they can't wait a minute for any of this! -

Gary Muller, my roommate and my “business partner,” flexed one of his enormous biceps until the shirt that covered the muscular and perfect body that used to belong to me almost burst, then with one of his long fingers he pointed to one of his armpits that for a moment They were dry.

Gary took off his shirt, revealing the body he used to look at every day in the mirror, grabbed a pair of dumbbells that were on the floor and started working out for our afternoon show.

-Yeah... I'm sorry, I went to a couple of job interviews, and they went a little longer than I thought, just... let me change while you train a little-

He just ignored me and went about his business while I walked into our apartment. I had heard that many people ended up in bodies thousands of miles away because of the Great Shift, but me and Gary living next to each other was a strange coincidence.

I didn't know anything about Gary before all this. Furthermore, I only considered him as the old man who lived next to me, sometimes in the mornings while my uncle went to the gym I could see him leaving the building, dressed in a cheap suit and heading to his office job. It was a surprise for me, One day I woke up in his apartment with his old body.

 The Real Gary was as surprised as I was, the first time I saw my old body from Gary's perspective I was speechless, there was an expression of confusion on that beautiful, symmetrically perfect face, the long, muscular arms of which I used to be so proud now they were in someone else's possession, but the worst of all was how short I was now. The height difference between us was enormous, while I was almost two meters tall Gary was 1.50 CM Even some children They are taller than me now.

But over time I got used to Gary's horrible old body... every day I prayed to get my old life back, but every day I woke up with horrible back pain and with a face older than my father's, perhaps the most strange now is the hair, Gary started going bald since high school and when he turned 30 he decided to shave all his hair, Gary's bathroom was full of hair growth products that hadn't worked for years.

And while I was suffering from trying not to adapt to the life of a 48-year-old, the real Gary was enjoying his new youth and his new muscular body. I learned that people treat you very differently when you look like a damn stud instead of a wrinkled Troll.

He could hear through the walls like the real home, and he had fun with my body and with all the boys I brought to my old apartment every night, I had never realized how thin the walls were in this building Until for the first time I heard the powerful moans of my old voice at the same time that Gary used my cock to fornicate another man.

Time passed and society continued on its path, for me, it was surprisingly fast how the government recovered from all this. But there was only one problem, there were a lot of unemployed people everywhere, and among all of them was me.

I used to work at the local gym as a trainer, but with this body that had never been in a gym in its entire life, I was quickly fired. On the other hand, Gary's company went bankrupt when most of the investors ended up in young bodies And they decided to sell the company.

As the days went by, Gary and I became somewhat of friends, I helped him with exercise routines and taught him about the nutrition My body needed, We decided that it would be much cheaper for both of us to live together while all this was resolved, And I returned to my old apartment, but I felt like a stranger among my own things. I settled in the smallest room surrounded by my training equipment that was totally useless to me now, everything was too heavy.

Living with Gary was certainly better than living on the street, But every day it made me reconsider if that was true, Unsuccessfully I tried to get a damn job, so I could get out of that apartment and start my life over in Gary's weak old body. I felt like a parasite even with Gary, he paid the rent and all the house services.

On top of that, he used to party every night and hang out with his new gym friends during the day, it was a total mystery to me how he made so much money... until I started receiving some strange messages on my old Instagram account. .

“Hey buddy, was this your body?”

“Dude, are you DaddyGary?”

“Damn, you had such a hot body… I always knew what was under those shorts, you didn't disappoint me.”

It wasn't hard to realize that Gary had been making his filthy armpit fetish porn for those desperate gays. I felt so dirty watching the videos of my old body worshiping his sweaty armpits after the gym.

I immediately confronted Gary about it, and surprisingly he admitted it very quickly. He didn't seem embarrassed, or sorry for doing it, I could even notice a slight mocking smile on his face as I told him how humiliated I felt while a bunch of perverted men masturbated with my stinky armpits.

It was at that moment when those words from Gary sealed the destiny I am living in now.

-Those “disgusting” things like you call them are what pay the rent for this place and keep your old ass from sleeping in some dumpster. And if you want to continue sleeping in your comfortable bed, it's time for you to start contributing a little money, and I know how you can do it... Come here -

He flexed both arms showing his armpits, I was surprised to see that he had recently shaved his armpits, eliminating all the wild hair that I previously kept in my sweaty pits, I... I couldn't control myself, I don't think he's homosexual, but the powerful musk of my old armpits made me react like a bee to honey.

Gary took his phone and started recording me while he worshiped his wet armpits with my tongue.

-You like it, right?… “Gary” Do you like the taste of your old body? Can you believe this used to be me? Damn, You really are pathetic, “Gary” -

It had been several days since I had ejaculated, I had thought Gary's body had erectile dysfunction or something, but at that moment my little cock was hard as a rock and hot as hell. I had never felt this way, my head was completely clouded by the addictive testosterone filled aroma of my old armpits.

-Look friends, “Gary” is jerking off, it seems like he still misses his old body... Maybe we should let him play with him another time...-

Hello, if you liked this story and you want more, you can take a look at my Ko-Fi page to see my most recent stories, see my new stories and support me to continue creating this hot content.

[mattyriddlesbitch]

maybe you could do like a sub Mattheo but doing it by surprise so he doesn't see it coming and you like tie him down and he ends up liking it

So sorry this took so long! I hope this works!

You Fucking Better

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Warnings: sub!mattheo, bondage, unprotected sex, cream pie, cussing, oral(male receiving)

18+ Minors DNI!

Mattheo had bought some new bondage straps to strap you down. The old ones broke because you two were playing around and you strapped him down and he broke them trying to get free.

“Should we test these ones?” You asked with a sweet smile after Mattheo set them up.

“You wanna see if I could break these ones?” He smiled back playfully.

You nodded and he laid down, letting you strap him down. You made a little show of straddling him and leaning over as you tied his arms to the headboard, putting your boobs in his face ‘innocently’. “How’s that?” You asked as you sat back up, feeling his erection pressing below you.

He tugged at them, a small look of surprise on his face when he realized he couldn’t get out of these straps. “Huh. Better than the last ones.” He said and smiled back at you.

“Can’t break out of those ones then?” You asked a seemingly innocent question.

He tried with his full strength, barely budging before giving up. “No, I have to admit defeat to these.” He said with a chuckle. “At least I’ll know they can hold you for sure.”

“Are you making fun of me?” You asked, feigning offense. “That’s no way to talk when you’re tied down, Matty.” 

“Fine, princess. I’m sorry. You’re so strong.” He said sarcastically with a smile. “Untie me.”

“No.” You shook your head, a smug smile playing on your lips. You grinded down on him, eliciting a groan out of him.

“Fuck. Stop playing, princess.” His smile dropped, tugging at the straps again.

“I don’t know. I got you at my mercy right now. Who knows when I’ll get this chance again.” You said, dragging your hands slowly down his chest and stomach.

“You do it and I’m getting you back 10 times worse. Keep that in mind.”

“Hm.” You continued grinding on him as you pretended to think.

“Fuck.” He muttered, pushing his hips up into yours.

“Want me to help you out, Matty?” You asked with a mischievous smile.

“You fucking better.” He hissed, throwing his head back.

“So vulgar.” You shook your head as you got off his lap, sitting down next to him as you helped take off his pants and underwear.

“You know I can get filthier, princess. And you love it.” He said, groaning when you finally grabbed his cock.

“Mhm.” You started stroking his cock, very slowly. 

He hated that and started bucking his hips into your hand. “Come on, angel. Go faster.”

“Ask nicely.” You smile.

He huffs. “Please, go faster, princess.”

“Good boy, using your words.” You say as you start picking up the pace. He moaned and you could feel him get harder in your hand. “Oh, you like being called a good boy?”

“Shut it.” He said, still bucking into your hand to match your pace.

“That's not what a good boy would say.” You shake your head, removing your hand from his dick.

“No, no! Fuck! I'll be good! Just-fuck-please!” He begged, thrusting up into the air to search for some relief.

It was honestly amusing how quickly he broke, how quickly he was submitting to you.

“Fine. Since you asked nicely.” You smiled, wrapping your hand around his cock again, giving it slow strokes.

“Fuck. Baby, please. Stop teasing me.” He nearly whined, thrusting up into your hand again.

You clicked your tongue at his plea and leaned down, giving a small lick to his tip. He closed his eyes and groaned. You took him in your mouth and slowly went up and down his shaft, teasing the head of his cock with your tongue every time you pulled back.

“So good, princess. You’re so good with your mouth.” He moaned, bucking up into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat suddenly. “Fuck, baby. I’m gonna cum down your throat. Please.”

You moaned around him in response, continuing your pace until you felt him get harder, knowing he was so close to cumming. Then you pulled off of him. You lean back up straight.

He groaned at the loss, his body relaxing into the bed. “Fuck! You're gonna regret that, princess.” He said, glaring at you. His face was flush and he was panting, cock all red and throbbing with the need to cum.

“I doubt that.” You smile and stand up to tug off your clothes.

“Please, come ride me, angel. I need to feel you.” He said, looking at your body, pupils all blown out.

“I’ll take care of you, love. Gonna have you fill me with your cum, yeah?” You said as you straddle him.

“Fuck yes, please.” He groaned, taking the opportunity to grind up into you.

You lift up enough to sink down on him, moaning at the feeling of him stretching you out. He thrusted up into you, bottoming out with a loud moan as he threw his head back again.

“Fuck, princess, you feel so fucking good.” He praised, starting to fuck up into you.

You sat down on him, making it impossible for him to keep thrusting. “Just relax, baby.” You said, undoing the buttons on his shirt.

“I just-fuck-You just feel so good, I need to fuck you.” He said, moving his hips to get some friction.

“I got you, love. Just be good for me, yeah?” You asked as you started lifting up and dropped back down on him.

“Fuck.” He moaned. “I’ll be so good for you. Just keep doing that.” He said as he lifted his head to watch his cock going in and out of you.

You kept riding his cock, lifting up and dropping down as Mattheo moaned and praised you. He lifted his hips in time with you, making his cock hit deeper inside you.

“That’s it. Fuck, I love it when you ride my cock. You look so good up there, angel. Gonna fill you up so good. My cum’s gonna be dripping out of you.” He rambled.

“Fuck, Matty. You’re gonna make me cum.” You moaned, bracing your hands on his chest to steady yourself as you kept riding.

“Please, I need you to cum, princess. Can feel you squeezing me. ‘M gonna fill you up. Yeah?” The words were falling out his mouth without any thought, his brain too focused on the need to cum.

“Yeah.” You nod. “Oh, god!” You moaned, hips faltering as your orgasm hit you, making you tremble and cry out as Mattheo kept thrusting up into you. Your walls pulsing from your orgasm triggering his own as he moaned and whimpered, his thrusts slowing and erratic as he came inside you, sliding down and covering his cock in both of your cum.

You both caught your breaths as you laid down on him, his cock softening inside of you.

“You’re a fucking devil.” He said with a small chuckle.

“What do you mean?” You asked innocently.

“Taking advantage of me being tied down.” He said, looking back up at his bound wrists.

“You liked it.” You said and sat up, undoing the straps.

“I did. I wouldn’t mind doing that again.” He smiled, cupping your cheeks once his hands were free and bringing your face down to kiss you.

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff

@soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl @brittney-121

@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddlesbitch @acornacreacure @opheliamalfoy236

@demieyesore @akira1246 @queenshu

Let me know if you wanna be added!

[dear--mars]

Do you think we’re soulmates in every universe?

── Synopsis: Soulmates. The concept sounded unreal, too good to be true. And it seemed it was. Nothing lasts forever and the thought of being together even in another world was just a dream.

── Characters: Blade, Aventurine, and Veritas

── CW: can't find anything. (please let me know if I missed any.)

── Notes: kinda occ ngl... [angst/no comfort]

── Word count: 591 + 891 + 867 = 2349 words in total

Blade ── Blade was a wandering soul. Both of you knew that and yet you still tried to tie him down. But could you really be blamed?

How could you think he wanted anything else when all he did was send mixed signals? One moment he’s cold and distant then he’s all over you, being needy and needing your comfort. So was it any surprise when you eventually got tired of his on-and-off behavior?

So you left. 

You started a new life on the small planet of Adion. You worked a job you actually liked, made new relationships, and never stressed too much about things that didn’t matter. It was the turning of a new leaf.

But with joy come sorrow and suffering.

A loud banging at your door echoed throughout your house. You tossed and turned in your bed, trying to fall back asleep, but the noise breaks the peaceful sleep you’re so desperately clinging to. 

You sat up, rubbing your eyes before taking a look at the clock for a few moments, it’s two in the morning. You had no idea what was going on but you had a familiar sense of deja vu that you couldn’t shake. 

"Damn it… Who the hell is that?" You mumbled to yourself before getting out of bed to walk to the front door. But once you saw who was at your door, every hint of fatigue fled your body as your blood ran cold. 

It was Blade.

You slightly faltered as your mind ran a hundred miles per hour trying to think of how he found you. You swallowed the lump in your throat and took a step back, not wanting to be in his vicinity.

Wordlessly, Blade reached out and stopped you. In the past, you would’ve said that Blade was one of the hardest men to read but as of right now, you could tell every thought that ran through his head.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you haven’t seen each other for a few months. The slight tug on his eyebrows that showed frustration, the dark circles under his eyes told you that he hadn’t slept for a while, and lastly the desperation and relief hidden in his eyes.

“Why?” was the only thing he croaked out.

You immediately understood what he was asking and a flash of irritation crossed your face. “Are you serious? Why? Why did I leave?” You asked, finishing his question. When you saw him nod, you scoffed.

You pulled your hand away from his but it chased after your warmth instinctively. “Why wouldn’t I leave? What have you done for me to make me want to stay?” You spat out harshly.

Blade flinched and gritted his teeth. He reached out to grab your hand again, this time intertwining his fingers with yours. “Maybe not in this lifetime but do you think we’re soulmates in every other universe?” He mumbled out, clearly in a vulnerable state.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not anymore. You cared way too much in the past, it was time to move on from this chapter in your life. Time to move on from Blade. “Do you leave me in every universe?” Your tone was bitter.

Even more so than him. Only then did Blade truly realize just how much power you had over him. You could make him the happiest he had ever been, more than he thought he could be but you could also drag him into the deepest depths of pain and agony.

Aventurine ── Aventurine. What a man.

At times you couldn’t believe he was yours. Waking up next to him and seeing his smile made you fall in love with him all over again. But you should’ve suspected something was up with a man so perfect and flawless.

You should have anticipated this turn of events. The plot twist was so overused that the only appropriate response you could get out was laughter. Lovers betraying each other—how cliché. 

How could someone be so blind just because of love? You couldn't fathom it. You hated this trope and Aventurine knew that. Maybe that’s why he was smiling ever so slyly when he revealed his true intentions. 

After telling you the truth, Aventurine left your home cold and empty, taking any semblance of warmth with him. Years passed and you were forced to move on. Did you still love him deep down? Of course, but time moved forward whether you were ready or not.

Aventurine was born lucky. Being blessed by Gaiathra Triclops from birth, Aventurine grew up always having luck at his side. A fact that he hated but one that he relied on often. 

That’s why he thought no matter what, he’d always win. But Aventurine hadn’t known that his ‘luck’ only really constituted physical ideas and plans, not emotions. Especially his or yours, not after everything he did to you.

Aventurine felt a void in his chest like something was missing. You, Obviously but he would never admit that. As “carefree” Aventurine is, he still has his pride. He used you even if it was for work, catching feelings wasn’t an option.

But it never hurt to see how you were doing, right?

That’s the excuse Aventurine used as he sat in your hotel room. He never would’ve thought you’d be here in Penacony but it worked out in his favor. (Everything always did.)

Aventurine hears the door creak open and footsteps but they stop as soon as you laid eyes on him. Your eyes widened, you could recognize that tuff of blond hair just about anywhere in the universe.

Your breathing gets a bit heavier as your hands curl into fists. Aventurine doesn’t need to turn around to see you’re upset but he does anyway. He wants to see your beautiful face after all. 

God, you were extraordinary. Even after years of being apart, you still looked the same. If anything, you grew to be more attractive. Your soft skin, your plump lips, and your luscious hair that shined even under artificial lighting.

“Hey. It’s been a while, huh?” He asked, hiding his true feelings and masking them with a facade of confidence and nonchalance. “Never expected you to come to Penacony of all places.”

Your heart ached when Aventurine spoke to you with an air of familiarity. You hated how he acted like nothing happened between the you two. You ignored his words, cutting straight to the point. “What are you doing here.” You asked but it was more of a demand.

Aventurine raised his hands in mock surrender. “What’s with the hostility? I just came here to say hi and catch up.”

“Get out.” Your tone was bitter.

“Come on-” You cut him off,

“No. Get out of my room. Or wait, should I beg you to stay like last time so you’ll definitely leave?” You mocked, in slight disbelief of Aventurine’s audacity.

Aventurine ever so slightly faltered at your tone and words. “Okay, ouch.” He joked but deep down your actions hurt. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.” But when Aventurine saw the glare in your eyes, he decided to drop the facade.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, a habit he did when he was feeling guilty or bad. “Do you remember our first anniversary? When we were having that picnic under that giant weeping willow?” He reminisced with a strained smile.

“You asked back then if we’d be soulmates in every universe and I said yes, knowing that I’d have to betray you. I feel like it’s my turn.” Aventurine paused and took a deep breath. “Do you think we’re soulmates in every universe?”

You didn’t hesitate in cutting down any and all expectations, Aventurine held. “Why would you think that when you ruined it for us in this one?” You counted with a question of your own.

Aventurine froze before smiling, trying to mask the pain in his expression. “I have to admit I wasn’t expecting you to say something so cruel but I understand,” Aventurine said with a smile, trying to act playful and nonchalant. 

He then left your room without any more complaints. The truth of the situation didn't hit him until he saw you at the bar, laughing and drinking with another man. Maybe my luck has finally run out. He thought, trying to shove back any emotions from leaking out.

Aventurine had never truly wanted anything in his life. He couldn't afford the luxury of wanting something. He never asked for all the wealth he amassed or the luck he was born with. Hell, he didn’t even really want freedom. After being chained down for so long, Aventurine wouldn't know what to do if he was free.

But you were different.

He wanted you. But he couldn’t. 

And that was what pissed him off the most.

Veritas ── Dating Veritas was not for the weakhearted. Due to his extreme talent and unparalleled intelligence, he holds himself in high regard. He comes off as candid, self-centered, and condescending. 

Even mocking or narcissistic at times. But you knew him better. Veritas was just a bit too blunt but he was sensible and levelheaded. He wasn’t a bad person. In fact, it’s the opposite. 

He firmly believes that intellect isn’t confined to geniuses and seeks to distribute knowledge to the entire universe, all to “cure” ignorance. He wants to help people but is just a bit odd or “mean” while doing it. 

He does have a bit of an eccentric temperament but he meant well. That’s what you always told yourself but that excuse was starting to grow old. You were trying to be considered an understanding of where he was coming from, you always have been.

But you can only take so much. A person can only get knocked down so many times before they decide it's better to just stay on the floor. And it seemed you were reaching that breaking point with Veritas.

He would always point out your mistakes, nitpick something irrelevant, or just for the sake of it. You started to wonder if he even loved you. Never once did he really show affection toward you.

At first you tried to acknowledge that he might not feel comfortable with that but after years of being together, if he still wasn't comfortable enough with you to show basic affection… You couldn't help but wonder, what the hell have you been doing for the past four years of your life?

One day you had enough. 

Your words rang clearly throughout his study, "Veritas, I think we should stop seeing each other." You said vaguely but the message was clear. 

Veritas froze upon hearing your words, not expecting you to say such a thing. "Why?" he asked simply, the coldness now turning into a sharp tone. The suddenness of this topic left him confused, a part of him wanting to lash out at you, but he refrained.

"I just don't think we're compatible as a couple."

Veritas scoffed as soon as you finished speaking, feeling slightly annoyed at that word. Was 'compatibility' the thing that doomed their relationship? "So you have realised we are not compatible after so many years of being together?" His tone now sharp with the hints of slight aggression.

You didn’t flinch at his cold tone. "You don't have to get so defensive, I'm not blaming you." You said with a gentle expression, which was odd for you. You've always been more hot-headed and impulsive so seeing you like this was weird to Veritas.

"It's just that I want to be loved in a more open way and you can't provide that for me which is okay. That's just not you, and I don't want you to change yourself for me. I'm sure you're more suited with someone who's like yourself. I'm just not the person."

Veritas could tell by your calm explanation, that you’ve been thinking about this for quite some time and that fact stabbed his heart in a way he’d never felt before. "I tried my best to love you as much as I possibly can, but apparently that was not enough for you..."

"Just because you love me doesn't mean I feel loved." You countered and Veritas froze. "Let's think about it this way. Let's say you're trying to teach somebody something. It's easy for you so you have high expectations for the person you’re teaching. But that person just doesn't get it. They're trying their best but they're not understanding. You would feel upset or annoyed, right? Because their best isn't good enough for you." You tried to explain in a way he would understand.

“The fault wouldn't be placed on the person who's trying their best, it would be placed on the one who had unrealistic expectations.” You finished with a strained smile. You loved Veritas, with all your heart but you couldn’t go on like this.

Veritas had to stifle the urge to argue for a moment. He hated how accurate your example was, but he also understood your point. “Do you believe in fate? Destiny and or soulmates, things like that?“ He asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

You paused, raising an eyebrow at him. Veritas was an intelligent man when it came to logic and reasoning. Things like destiny and fate weren't “logical” in the slightest. “I suppose.” You answered carefully.

“Do you think we’re soulmates in every other universe?” You blinked at Veritas’ question. Never in a million years would you have thought that he would ask you something like that. You sighed and decided to give him a taste of his own blunt medicine.

“Do you treat me like shit in every universe?” Veritas felt his heart shatter at your response. He didn’t know you felt like that. He didn’t know that he was treating you so badly to the point where’d you had to resort to this.

He regretted asking. This would perhaps be the only time he wished to remain ignorant, despite his life goal of getting rid of it. 

- Navigation -   - Supernova -

[totallyseiso]

From what I can tell based off different news stories I've read over the past few months, the events leading to this ceasefire proposal would be something like:

War gets unsustainable, no matter how many bombs you get from the US you just can't seem to defeat the guerrilla forces. Something that has happened in pretty much every guerrilla war in modern history, but you somehow didn't see coming.

Global pressure increases to end the war, because apparently most people are either against genocide, or want to appear to be against genocide.

You need to have a way to end the war, but it needs to also act as good PR for your country internationally, and your government domestically. Only option is to find a way to declare victory in an unwinnable war. That way you can claim internationally that all the civilian deaths were unfortunate collateral damage in a successful, and justified war, and claim domestically that your "success" shows that you're the best choice to keep your country safe.

Declare one specific goal as the biggest objective in the war: uproot Hamas from Rafah, pretending they aren't still active everywhere else in Gaza, because guerillas don't actually have one specific place they operate out of.

Attack Rafah for a couple of weeks. Don't actually achieve anything, because there is nothing to achieve there, it just needs to look like you've done something.

Send a proposal for a ceasefire that was already accepted, claiming that Hamas have been defeated enough that they're not a threat.

If Hamas accepts the agreement the next steps will probably be something like:

Go into full PR damage control mode, claiming that everything was necessary or an honest mistake. Get forgiven by every government that didn't actually care about the Palestinians, but instead just didn't want to get dragged down with you.

Try to insist back home that you won the war in order to appease the further-right members of government who have been against a ceasefire, and try to convince the civilian population that all of this was to free the hostages. Hope that your PR work is enough to maintain control of the government.

Try to help Biden with his PR work so he can win his next election (this step will fail)

Use any excuse you can to weasel out of your end of the agreement so you don't have to help rebuild Gaza.

Pretend nothing ever happened, because western powers probably won't hold you accountable even though if your country had any right to exist in the first place it sure as fuck lost it by now.

[mouvs]

Love, expired? - Joost Klein

(Angst & fluff based on bittersuite<- singer reader)

You and joost have always been close, from his youtube days to his crowded festivals, always doing the craziest things together. You were his rock and he was yours, always finding each other in your miseries, finding comfort in one another as you smoked cigarettes and watched the night pass.

Always by one another’s side, cheering each other on. Some would say you come as a set, a bundle of joy spreading where ever you guys came, always giggling by his side as he made you smile trough and trough. Always holding him close on those harder days as he found his way to you, listing to music as you played with the blondes locks as he rested on your lap.

It was on those memories that had your head spiralling, seeing him sleep so peacefully next to you, seeing those bright blue eyes disappear as he smiled at you, feeling his strong arms around your body in a warm embrace. All of it felt like a bliss of warmth, comfort and… love?

You cant lie, a part of you always knew you loved him. But you denied it and you would deny it until you couldn’t anymore. Hes busy, he doesn’t have time for all of that, he doesn’t have time for me, i cant make him happy you told yourself. It was all a joke to him.

You two had been trough so much. It wasn’t his fault you took his jokes a little too seriously right? The nights, you danced together, swaying your hips to the loud music beaming trough the speakers, his hands on your waist and yours occasionally going around his neck, locking eyes from time to time as you held each other close.

“You look so gorgeous i could kiss you” he had said. “I love you” he had said. Giggling as he held you against his chest. Hovering over you the entire night with his hands on you, sharing intimate moments as his lips brushed against your neck occasionally as you danced against his chest. Holding you on his lap as he chatted with friends, gently laying his hand on your thigh. He made you feel so special.

Like it was meant to be, finally.

Until she came around.

The usual group of friends had dragged everyone to a party the week after, inviting a bunch of other people around. Surely one had to take an interest in joost. Your joost. The sweet sweet boy that lid up ypur heart every time you saw him, the sweet boy that made your heart beat faster every time he opened his mouth.

And he shamelessly enjoyed it. Crushing your party mood in an instant as you saw them dance how he danced with you. And you wished that was the only time you had to see it.

But no, surely she became part of the group. Coming along on the smallest things you all did together. And part of you felt so stupid, why do i feel this way you thought. He is free to do what he wants. But this was yet another sign.. that you had fallen hard for him. The way your heart aches for him was surreal.

Part of you felt like you were over reacting. Why cant you let him be happy.

But why do i need him to be happy..

You grew more distant from joost over some time, there was no confirmation they were together but one night at a bar with your friends, hearing the conversation, questions they asked, hearing the girl joke slyly next to him about ‘all they share’ and seeing her around his arm just was to much. You thought it was better to get rid off these feelings, which was painfully slow. You had known each other for so long it felt like a piece of you was missing each day you didn’t talk to him.

And he felt it too. He missed you.

You stopped showing up at his concerts, stopped hanging out with him and your friends as much. Telling them you’ve been working on new songs. Which wasnt a lie, you were drowning yourself in work on purpose, as not to think, not to hear not even breath joost.

Seeing the pictures she shared clinging onto him only making you burry yourself even more.

He felt concerned, he knew you, he knew you all too well to be fooled by your facade. Making your phone explode with texts and calls, only receiving short replies from you or smiley faces.

“Hey the concert for my new album is tomorrow hope you guys can make it!” The message popped up on his phone as he chugged back the remains of the beer he was holding.

He sighed. Remembering the times you were on stage together, dancing together, singing and screaming just living your wildest dreams. “Why wont you talk to me” he thought to himself as he scrolled trough your pictures. Reviving all the memories you guys had together.

Biking to school together, spending hours in grass fields as you both drew or wrote, enjoying the warm summers, going to parties together, smoking together. Suddenly everything reminded him of you. It made him so confused, he had a crush on you for a while but he had settled it was never the right moment as you gotten out of a rough relationship.. but his feelings.. it never really went away.

He wanted to make you smile, make you feel safe, be your person.

He exhaled briefly before pressing the call button..

Hearing it ring more then three times made him anxious as he looked at the screen, his heart stopping for a second as the ringing stopped.

“Hello?” Your voice sounded. Your voice.. he missed your voice. He listened to your songs a lot but it was never the same as actually hearing you talk to him, just him.

“Hey- uhm yea i saw your text in the group i wanted to congratulate you” he smiled softly “i hope im still invited..” he mumbled

“Aw thank you thats really sweet and ofcourse you are joost don’t be silly” you spoke, feeling a little nervous as you heard his quiet odd tone.

“Yea.. okay” he nervously chuckled “but.. why havnt i seen you y/n..” he paused as he sighed “i miss you” it usually took him a lot of courage to open up like that, but the feelings of missing you mixed with alcohol made it slip his lips easier.

It was silent for a while, you didn’t know what to say as you heard him speak.

“I- im sorry joost.. uhm i promise ill make some time for you tomorrow depending how busy it is you know” you nervously laughed. But you only meant one thing. You wanted to only see him, and not with another girl around his arm.

“Thats all you seem to say lately but i don’t believe you y/n” he bites back.

“Wh- what?” You frown as you hear his tone shift on the other side.

“I know somethings up and your not telling me.. did i do something wrong why are you so distant from me all of a sudden?”

Tears prickled into your eyes as you listened, feeling guilty as if you tossed him away.

“I-“ you sniffled “im sorry i dont know okay” you cleared your throat as you tried to compose yourself.

“Y/n sweetheart you can talk to me.. i want you to talk to me please?.. i know we both have it rough sometimes but thats why we have each other.” His words sounded trough your head.

So comforting yet feeling like a knife trough your heart as you sighed. You cant let this continue longer, torturing yourself, leaving him confused. You were already separating yourself from him, might as well take the shot.

“You know just come tomorrow, i do want to talk to you thats not it joost.. you know its not” you mumbled the last part. “After the show we can meet up? Just the two of us?” You asked.

“I would love that y/n” joost said, a soft smile spreading across his face.

-

“You should really listen to the last song by the way”

He frowned at the text as he and your friends walked too the venue.

“Oh? Why?:)” he typed back,

“If i talk you’d listen right?”

He only got more confused as he read your message

“Ofcourse y/n”

You didn’t reply back as the group went to find a spot, waiting for your entry as they gather drinks.

As you walked on stage joost motioned to get closer as he dragged the group to the front. His eyes glued on you at every given moment, paying zero mind to everyone screaming your lyrics as he tuned it out to only listen to your voice.

Patiently analysing every song, it was painful how mysterious you could be sometimes yet your music unfolds you perfectly.

You laughed as the music ends slowly “thank you all for being here i love you all” you breath trough the mic as you made eye contact.

“Well one more?” You asked as everyone cheered on you chuckled “alright alright i got one more for you guys” you smiled briefly looking at joost as your smile fades a little softer.

Nerves spreading across your body as everything was so real all of a sudden. Normally it feels like a fever dream standing on stage. But this was a little more.. you wrote this song thinking about him.. your feelings for him.

Just like you he stood there nervously listening to the music playing, interested what the last song was about. Carefully listening to the lyrics.

I cant fall in love with you

Your voice sounding trough his head, he frowns a little as he listens, watching your every move, so tender, so elegant.

I see the way you want me i wanna be the one

Your hair falling perfectly over your shoulders as your voice sounds trough the mic, joost eyes on you as you briefly made eye contact, swiftly looking away as you sang the next lines.

But i gotta be careful gotta watch what i say

God i hope it all goes away

Cause i cant fall in love with you

Suddenly it hits him, all those moments, all those heartfelt memories. He was truly in love with you. But.. is he the one you cant fall in love with? His mind raced as he watched you in the dim orange stage lights.

“Fuck” he breathed out as he walked out of the crowd as he ran trough the people trying to reach the back stage, the music ended.

“Thank you all so much” your voice sounded trough the venue as you looked at the crowd, not finding joost in his previous spot. Well fuck. You thought as you nervously smiled, adrenaline rushing trough your veins from the performance you turn around as you went off stage.

Only to be met with those piercing blue eyes you were looking for.

“Y/n..” he said walking towards you “i love you” he blurred out, out of breath from running as he looked down at you.

You stood there for a second with a sheepish grin on your face, serotonin rushing trough you as you pressed your lips against his, his arms comfortingly wrapping around your waist, holding you up as you hold him close.

The smell of his cologne hit you as you feel whole again, his hand tangled into your hair as his lips feel soothingly cool against yours, sounds of him groaning into the kiss only making you smile more as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“I love you too..” you give him a little peck “maybe a little to much”

“Don’t be silly you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting to spit that out” he whined before chuckling as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“How silly are we hm” you giggled as you pressed a kiss to his jaw, only making him want more as his hand brushed over your cheek and his lips meet yours again in a heartbeat.

[kpop---scenarios]

Monster

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader x Lee Felix

Genre: Mafia, Arranged Marriage

Warning: None right now

Word Count: 3.4k

“Babe?” You call out, closing the front door of your apartment behind you. You set your bag down on the table in the front hall, slip off your shoes before making your way further inside. Heading into the kitchen, the lights are dim, your boyfriend's uniform is laid out on the table, ready for him to put on in the morning for the 24 hour shift he was going to be working. You wander into the living room, seeing Seo Joon sitting on the couch with his head laid back, softly snoring as the show he was watching continues. Gently, you push his shoulder to wake him up, grabbing his hand to drag him to your shared bedroom so you could both pass out. It was a long day and you were exhausted.

“How was your day?” Seojoon asks you, his eyes barely open as he slips off his shirt and then his pants, crawling into bed with just his boxers on.

“It was fine.” You mutter. “Pretty uneventful.”

“Sounds about right.” He says, letting out a big yawn. You crawled into bed beside him, scooching closer to him. You lean in to kiss him, his eyes shooting open. He turns his head slightly, so you catch his cheek instead of his lips. You're a little taken aback as you look at him, feeling hurt, which was a feeling you'd come accustomed to over time. You really weren't sure why you'd continued to let it bother you.

“I've got a big day tomorrow, I need to sleep.” He tells you, rolling over to face away from you.

“Yeah okay.” You huff. “My dad called earlier, I need to go see him tomorrow.” You say, rolling over too, your back facing his.

“I don't know why you're telling me, I'll be busy working. Again.” He sighs. You don't respond. You honestly don't know how to respond.

Your relationship with Seojoon wasn't always like this. At the beginning of the two of you dating he was very sweet to you, he would hold you, take you on dates, kiss you and actually be affectionate. Since he became a paramedic a year into your relationship, things have been different. He's been distant, cold and just not the man you fell in love with. You'd tried to talk to him about it - one too many times but he always said he was fine. You knew you weren't going to get anything out of him so you stopped trying. Sex was never a thing with the two of you, he told you from day one that he was saving himself for marriage, but that didn't stop the two of you from doing other things here and there, never consistently.

But now, it's been a year since any of that has happened, the longest it has ever been for you. The last time you rubbed your pussy on his clothed cock, you both came but the look he gave you made you feel like the most disgusting person, he looked at you with disgust. He made you feel insecure, but secure, and most of the time you felt safe with him. You also hoped that one day the man you fell for would return to you but for right now you were just taking it day by day.

**

The next morning, you're awake and dressed, ready to go to your father's house. Seojoon's side of the bed was cold, he had already been gone for hours.

On your way to your fathers house, you think about the talk you'd been hearing from various sources. Every person had been talking about these rumors that were floating around, things that were happening underground but you hadn't had a chance to speak directly to your father to see if there was any truth to any of it. He was the one you could go to about the things you'd hear and he would always tell you whether or not there was any sort of truth to any of it.

Your father was a very wealthy and a very feared man. A man that Seojoon did not know, and one you weren't sure if he would ever know. He was a man who took what he wanted, hurt whoever got in his way and made deals with a lot of people who others would consider to be the devil. You were the daughter of the second largest mafia organization in the country.

It was a life you had always known. Seojoon has never pressed the issue of meeting your father and you didn't know if you appreciated that fact, or sort of resented him for it. You also didn't think that confessing the fact that your father was participating in drug distribution, prostitution and all other illegal activities would do well to your relationship but part of you also wanted Seojoon to know where you came from. However, if you could trust him with that information, well that was a whole other story.

Late at night, when Seojoon was snoring beside you and you couldn't sleep, you thought about the things he didn't know or didn't want to know about, despite having been together for 3 years. He'd never asked you about your family, your childhood. The only information he ever got was things that you volunteered to tell him. Those thoughts would always leave you feeling confused about him, and whether or not he was truly in this relationship with you.

Your car comes to a stop in front of your fathers large house, two men in all black stand outside the front door, their fingers interlaced in front of them, not a smile on either of their faces.

“Wonho. Shownu.” You smile at both, they each give you a nod before opening the front door for you. You walk in, the familiar scent brings you back to your childhood, growing up in this house. The walls down the long hall are covered with pictures of family, friends and others your father has done business with. You make your way down the long hallway, listening to the buzzing chatter of the men roaming the house. It was always like this, as long as you could remember there were always so many people inside the house at all hours of the day and night. You've seen many things growing up here, men loading weapons in the living room, getting bullets pulled out of them on the kitchen counter. Going into the basement for a popsicle and seeing someone who ratted hung up with chains being tortured. It really didn't take you long to become accustomed to what was going on inside this house.

“Dad?” You call out, standing in front of the living room, but also near the kitchen and his office. It was always one of those three rooms you could find him in.

“In my office with Mia.” He yells back.

You figured. Mia was your half sister, his daughter but with the woman he married before he was with your mother. She was a few years older than you and the two of you never truly saw eye to eye. You felt like she hated you, and though she has never confirmed or denied, you maintained that thought.

“I've been hearing a lot of shit dad.” You say, walking into his office. Mia sits in front of your dad, who sits behind his desk. “You're marrying one of us off?” You say.

Mia looks back at you with wide eyes. “Is that what you wanted me to come today for? To tell me you've arranged a marriage for me? Because if that's true, it's not fucking happ…” She yells before being cut off by your father.

“No.” He says. “Well, not quite.” He continues. “Mr. Lee and I have been discussing joining our organizations. I've been wanting to get into trafficking and more in depth organized crime for a while, and he's been wanting to step foot into drug distribution.” He says. “You two know as well as anyone the best way to combine is through marriage.”

“I'm in a relationship though. A good.. well, a relationship.” You blurt out. Your father did not know about Seo Joon. Or so you thought.

“Yeah I know, with the nurse, or whatever. We're going to have to have a chat about him.” He says, pointing at you.

“He's a paramedic, dad.” You correct him. Your father just stares at you before turning to your sister.

“Mia, I mainly mean you. Mr. Lee has two sons. Lee Felix, and Bang Chan, as you know Mr. Lee took Chan into custody after Mr. Lee's best friend, Chan's father passed away. I don't give a fuck which one you choose, but you need to choose one. We’re having a party if you will, tomorrow. You'll meet them then. I expect you to wow them.” He explains. You take a deep breath, so fucking relieved its not you, but slightly stressed that your father knew about Seo Joon. You shouldn't have been surprised. You should have known your father finds out everything.

‘So I don't have to be there, right?” You ask, smugly smirking at the back of Mia's head.

“You are expected to be there, Y/N.” He says. Your smirk fades quickly. “Understood?” He asks.

You nod your head. “Yes sir.”

“What if I don't want to?” Mia asks, crossing her arms.

“This isn't up for fucking debate, Mia. Either you do it or I'll kick you out and cut you off.” Your father threatens.

The room is quiet.

Mia shuffles in her seat, uncomfortably as the awkward silence continues.

“Do I make myself clear?” He asks.

“Crystal.” She says, abruptly getting out of her chair and storming out of the room.

“Well I'm gonna head out.” You say, clearing your throat before turning towards the door.

“Y/N.” Your dad begins. “That boy. The one you're dating. It would be in your best interest to break things off with him.” He finishes, looking down at a stack of paper.

“We've been together for a while. We live together. I'm not going to just leave him. I know you haven't met him yet but..” you continue on.

“I don't want to meet him. I'm telling you now to end things. That's all. I've got work to do, I'll see you tomorrow. Don't be late.” He says, cutting you off. Typical of your father. You wished one of them had wanted to meet the other one.

You left your fathers house annoyed. Not really wanting to go to the party tomorrow but also at how your father acted. How could he tell you to break up with Seojoon without even having met the guy. As you drive off the property, you call your boyfriend just to check in and see how his day is going.

“What?” He snaps, answering the phone.

“Woah, sorry. Was just calling to check in.” You mumble.

“Well I'm busy, sorry.” He sighs. “How was your dad's?” He asks. You perk up a little at his question.

“It was fine. He wanted to let me know about a party he's throwing tomorrow evening.” You say. “I don't suppose you'd be feeling up to accompanying me?” You ask.

“I have to work, YN. I picked up an extra 12 hour shift after this one so no, I can't come with you to your fancy party. Some of us have to work for a living.” He snaps.

You're quiet.

So is he. For a second.

“I gotta go. Bye.” He says, hanging up the phone. You really fucking wondered why you were even in this clearly one sided relationship.

That night you ate dinner alone, crawled into bed alone, and woke up the next morning alone. You checked your phone and you didn't even have so much as a “Hi” text from your boyfriend. You felt done. You didn't want to try anymore, you didn't want to care anymore. It was exhausting to be in a one sided relationship with him. You were done being the one to call or to text. You were done being the one to start conversations or be affectionate. Whether or not he noticed would be the sign that you needed on if you were going to continue things with him.

Later that afternoon you got ready for the party. You hadn't heard anything from Seo Joon and you weren't going to be the one who messages him first. If he wanted to talk to you then he would reach out to you. Arriving at your father's house, the front door is wide open, you can hear the music from outside, as well as a ton of people waiting to get in. Shownu and Wonho were standing in front of the door, checking the lists to make sure only the ones your father wanted got into the house. There were too many groups who either wanted to ambush your father or get into business with him and he didn't want to deal with it tonight.

“Excuse me.” You say. “Pardon me.” You say, moving through the crowd of people towards the front door.

“You look good.” Wonho smiles, winking at you before moving sideways to let you in.

“So do you.” You smile, moving past him inside. It was your typical type of party. Food, a lot of drinks and a lot of serious conversations and deal makings. You quickly grab a drink, chugging it back before grabbing another one and one more just in case. You looked around for your father to say hi, but instead your attention was caught by an extremely handsome man trying to talk to your sister. You sat on the couch behind them, listening to him try to say anything at all to Mia.

“Hey there.” He says, going to tap her on the shoulder.

Mia doesn't even give the poor man any acknowledgement. You take another sip of your drink, smiling as you watch him awkwardly stand there, trying to figure out something else to say.

“Hi.. uh, are you Mia?” He asks. She turns to look at him, scoffing before turning back to those she was talking with. You can't help but laugh, a little too loudly. He turns to look at you as you cover your mouth, trying to hide your giggles.

“What?” He asks.

“I.. nothing.” You smile. “Good luck with her.”

“Believe me.” He sighs, sitting next to you. “I don't want to be talking to her, but my father is making me.”

“You're one of the two who is supposed to get married, aren't you?” You ask.

“How do you know that?” He asks.

“L/N Y/N.” You smile.

“Ahh, the sister to.. that one.” He laughs. “Bang Chan, but you can call me Chan.” He smiles. Before you can answer, a second, overly attractive man stands beside Mia, smiling. He tries to talk to her, but she gives him the exact same treatment as she gave Chan.

“Bro. Don't even bother.” Chan sighs, pulling him to the couch. “YN, this is Felix, Felix, Y/N.”

“Hi.” You smile.

“Mia's sister.” Felix smiles.

“The one and only.” You laugh, finishing your drink. “You're better off not to even try with her, she doesn't want to get married.” You say.

“You say that as if we actually have a choice.” Felix laughs.

“Well, I mean.. it sucks to suck.” You grin.

“You do know that whoever she doesn't pick, is marrying you, right?” Chan says.

You choke. You don't know what you choked on, but it was something. “I.. what? No, that's not a thing that's happening.” You laugh. Your dad would have told you, right? “Besides, I'm in a relationship.” You say.

“Ah, yeah, the cop.” Chan says, rolling his eyes.

“He's a paramedic.” You respond, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh right.” He snickers. “The paramedic.” He says, looking at Felix, who gives him a knowing look.

The rest of the evening you spent with both those men. The conversation flowed so easily, nothing was forced, you never ran out of things to talk about with them. It was honestly refreshing. The fact that they asked you questions about yourself, things that Seojoon hadn't even asked you, and he was supposed to be your boyfriend. At the end of the night you said your goodbyes to them, and you didn't want to. You wanted to continue being with them, there was just something about them that made you feel safe and secure being around them. That night when you got home, your apartment was empty. You walked in, got yourself ready for bed, checked your phone and there were no messages from Seo Joon. At this point, you were tired of him not even trying with you. You didn't care anymore. But you did care about what Chan had said earlier. you couldn't get it out of your head. You laid down, your mind replaying what Chan had said about Seo Joon, over and over.

“Ah, yeah, the cop.”

He wasn't a cop. Those are two very different professions, you can't just mistake a paramedic with a cop. You closed your eyes, and it takes you back to a moment where you had overheard a conversation that made you question, Seo Joon. Honestly at the time you had thought he was cheating on you, but now you weren't sure if it was cheating or maybe he really is a cop?

You were laying in bed, alone, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Seojoon had been in bed with you but you assumed he thought you were sleeping when you heard him on the phone.

“Hey..” he sighs. “Yeah no, I know. No No, I don't think she suspects anything.” He chuckles. You can hear him shuffling around in the kitchen. “Look, I'm trying my best here with her. This shit isn't easy.” He snaps. “I'll try that. Yep, I'll keep you updated. Bye.” He begins walking towards the bedroom, you lay back down, closing your eyes, snoring softly. You can feel the bed dip slightly beside you. He scrolled through his phone for a few minutes before he plugged it in and went to bed. You barely slept that night, wondering if he was cheating and who he was cheating with.

You close your eyes, wanting to stop reliving memories that hurt you. It wasn't beneficial for anyone. You tried to sleep again, until your phone pinged. You had hoped the message was from Seojoon.

It wasn't.

[From: +82-463-3629] Hey, Y/N. It's Chan.

[From: +82-394-1293] And Felix. It was good talking to you today.

[From: +82-463-3629] It was. We wanted to know if you wanted to hangout tomorrow night?’

[From: +82-394-1293] Unless you and your ‘paramedic’ boyfriend have plans?

You chuckle at the conversation already.

[To: +82-463-3629,+82-394-1293] No plans. What did you guys have in mind?

The next night, even though you knew better, you put on your little black dress that hugs your curves, your favorite shoes and got yourself out the door, without a word from your boyfriend, if you could even call him that anymore. You wanted to forget about him tonight. You walk outside your apartment, looking around, you hear a car honk at you. You turn to look, seeing Felix smiling as he holds open the passenger door for you.

“You look beautiful.” Felix says, helping you into the car before closing the door.

“He's not lying.” Chan smiles.

“Thank you guys.” You laugh. “Where are we going?” You ask.

“Some of the men in our group own a club. We were thinking of drinks and maybe some dancing.” Chan smiles. You buckle your seat belt happily.

“Sounds great to me.”

The three of you sit at a table, drinks scattered all around. You're all drunk, laughing, having a great time until you turn your head towards the bar, and you see Seojoon standing there with a woman. Your smile drops, you look away, Chan and Felix notice immediately.

“What?” They both ask. Felix stretches a little, looking at the bar. He spots Seojoon immediately, and understands.

“That's him right?” Felix asks. “Your boyfriend?”

“How did you know that's him?” You ask.

“Believe me, I know a lot of things.” Felix says. You turn around to look at him, just in time to see his arm snake around the waist of a woman you recognized.

Chaeyoung. She was Seojoon's partner at work. Why were they dressed up and at the bar? Why didn't he tell you? Why wasn't he at work? What the fuck was happening?

“You okay?” Chan asks.

“I'm fine.” You smile. “That's his work partner. It's fine. Everything is fine.” You mutter.

Everything was not fine.

[irisbleufic]

REVIEW

Gatsby: An American Myth (Welch, Chavkin, Bartlett, Majok, & Tayeh; American Repertory Theater)

Something that most adaptations of Gatsby get wrong, whether film or stage, is the treatment of characters as archetypes rather than individuals. Symbolism drowns out most genuine attempts at capturing emotional connections and conflicts of personality. They forget that this story is not only a failure of the so-called American Dream; first and foremost, it’s a tragedy of failed roles and relationships. Almost every one of the players is attempting to be someone they are not, and even as they reach for what they believe they should want, they reveal with increasing fervor what they actually want. This is the heart of what makes Welch’s new adaptation so devastatingly, disarmingly unique, so true to its source.

The set design is literal wreckage. Crushed and warped automobile chassis scaffold the moving staircases, and concealed trap doors. The backdrop shows no clear incorporation of the infamous Eckleburg billboard; rather, it is made up of a dotted grid resembling headlights. These play out effects ranging from a downpour to camera flashes to, briefly and only once, a pair of eyes that make no effort to hide behind the owlish frames of glasses. The only thing infusing this jagged framework with meaning is the people who move through it.

The lighting design works with the set’s incongruences, deepening or excavating shadows as needed. The brightness, when it flares, is blinding. Jewel tones either enhance or diminish a costuming scheme that is composed of either very pale or very dark shades, no in between. And whether it’s the post-apocalyptic black and gray cabaret garb of the ensemble or the wealthy protagonists’ pale suits or the gunmetal and gray denizens of the wasteland, everyone’s trouser and skirt hems are conspicuously rimed with reddish dust. The visual effects are nearly impossible to describe without sounding like I had some kind of desperate fever dream.

So far, I realize that these descriptions of the set and lighting design sound like this production is about to fall into the trap of overplaying symbolism, but please bear with me. With all of that established, I can focus on what’s truly extraordinary here, what’s meant to and does shine unhindered. The acting, musicianship and vocals are all so precise that it was hard for me to believe this show is still in previews. It feels Broadway ready, West End ready, major international tours ready. If I was the production crew, I’d turn this loose on a massive scale from the get-go without a second thought.

Much like with Hadestown, the musicians are not down in an orchestra pit. They’re characters in their own right, present on the stage from start to finish on tiered risers that run up from the center on each side from one of the catwalks. I’m sure Chavkin’s involvement as director has everything to do with why this show feels so much like, moves so much like Hadestown. The company is on an equally small scale, about 23 - 25 people including the principals.

Costuming among the ensemble is delightfully gender agnostic. I mention a cabaret aesthetic earlier in this review, and I’m not kidding. If you had shown me the ensemble costume designs without showing me the principals’ designs, I would have assumed I was looking at a Cabaret revival. They’re the most talented dancers I’ve seen occupy one stage in more than a decade. The choreography relies on movements in eerie unison for a significant portion of the show, but not without allowance for individual flair within those constraints. The guy sitting next to me, when I spoke to him at the intermission, said he works as a choreographer in regional theater, and he’d never seen anything like this. I couldn’t agree more; the dancing is singular, and as impressive as the musicianship is, the dancing and unusual body movement are maybe the greatest achievements of this show on the living, breathing end of things. I could have watched the dancers for those three hours without any dialogue or vocal intervention and still understood the story. That takes so much fucking doing.

As for the principal cast, they’re constantly among the ensemble; when I say these are all triple threats in the purest sense of that terminology, I really mean it. You always expect a few of the principals to be less dance and movement focused, more polished on the acting and singing side, but this show gives you terrifying proficiency from every angle. Even the guy playing Meyer Wolfsheim is at the center of what I think is the most memorable dance number in the piece. I’ve just never seen such versatile principals all in one production. What’s even more extraordinary is that I had never heard of or previously seen any of them, and that takes some doing given how much live theater I’ve consumed in several decades of life.

Ironically, the musical composition is the one aspect of this production on which I’ll be spending the least time. I need not tell you why Welch and Bartlett were perfect for this job. They understood the assignment, and then some. There’s not a single weak number among the track listings, and I desperately hope they release a recording soon. The standout numbers all have something in common: they showcase Soleia Pfeiffer as Myrtle Wilson. You can tell that’s the role where Welch sank most of the sound that’s considered her signature style. I don’t even need to describe it; you already know what I’m talking about. What’s impressive otherwise is the restraint, the lack of over-reliance on that signature style.

The principals are fucking perfect. I’ve kept this review tautly professional without meaning to thus far, but from here on out is where I start bleeding feels all over the post. If you don’t already know who my blorbos are due to my writing history with a Gatsby-related novel (The Pursued and the Pursuing, 2021), you’re going to know by the time you’re done reading this. You’re going to know exactly who I love and why, who I hate and why, who I ship and why. But you’ll also know that I approach all three of those elements from a place of enjoying every moment of those characters, even the ones I hate. Nobody’s performance put me off or struck the wrong tone when taken in context of the novel and how the tragedy of how their relationships play out.

For a long time, I’ve been saying that there are certain support roles, certain sidekicks, that make or break the higher-profile person to whose side they’re stuck, ride or die, until the bitter end. Horatio is a great example that I’ve ranted about before; if your Hamlet production has a lackluster Horatio, then it doesn’t matter how good the Hamlet is. You have nothing if you don’t have the binary star system at the heart of that harrowing universe. I’ve seen other adaptations of Gatsby consistently fall apart because Nick Carraway is treated like the kind of voyeur who doesn’t matter, the kind of voyeur who serves as the audience’s eyes and ears, and nothing else. Anyway, this is all to say: Ben Levi Ross as Nick might be the most compelling argument I can make for the fact that the creative team behind this show understood the assignment. He’s awkward, warm, sincere, and reactive in all of the ways you need Nick to be. He’s not a passive observer; he’s in the middle of everything, and he knows it. There’s a self-deprecating response he makes when one character, Jordan if I’m not mistaken, quips that maybe he’s the reason for Gatsby’s parties for all he knows. “Maybe I am,” he says, and the tongue-in-cheekness belies a gutting meta-sincerity. We believe Daisy is the point, Gatsby believes Daisy is the point, but what’s borne out every breathtaking moment of this production is that Nick is the point. He always was. He’s also given his due as a gay man in context of the story for the first time ever. I might make some folks mad when I say Nick has always been gay; I’m going to point you to Myrtle’s apartment party and the hookup with Mr. McKee as textual evidence in the novel. The kiss with McKee, the hookup with McKee, is unapologetically here. His lack of belonging everywhere else he’s ever been, because he is gay, is unapologetically here. One of the most memorable numbers in the show hinges on the hope feels at being able to be himself in New York. Queer fans of Gatsby have been waiting a long time for this. Anyone who’s read the text closely and understood him has been waiting a long time for this. I’ve been waiting several decades as a reader, and I would’ve waited forever to have Nick so fully, lovingly realized.

One of the other things that Gatsby adaptations have persistently gotten wrong is the titular character himself. The invention of Jay Gatsby hides the underlying James Gatz, makes it feel as if that old self is truly subsumed, as if it never mattered. But Isaac Powell gives us a Jay who’s exactly as he should be, who can’t hide beneath his own attempt at artifice and reinvention worth a goddamn. He’s young (as young as Nick; they’re 32 and 30 respectively both in the novel and here), painfully earnest, and just barely keeping a handle on the criminal shit he’s had to do in order to get where he is. When he says old sport to Nick, it’s not an affectation; when he says it to Tom, it becomes a biting insult. This is a Jay who knows where and why he’s vulnerable; he latches onto Nick like a not because he sees a man close to Daisy that he can exploit, but because he sees another young man who’s equally vulnerable, equally an outsider, equally haunted by the things they had to do in the war. From the moment they meet, they are almost always touching—a hand on the shoulder, on the back, getting in social harm’s way for each other, eyes seeking each other without cease in the most crowded of settings. When Jay takes Nick to lunch to meet Wolfsheim (who has in this production taken on the function of Dan Cody as well), it’s not to have somebody else vouch for the artifice of who Jay Gatsby is. It’s taking Nick to meet his fucking father-figure, and all of the messy, sincere “if you hurt my boy, I’ll kill you” sentiment that Wolfsheim aims at Nick was the moment I knew just how much the Nick’s loss by the end was going to hurt. Jay’s love for Daisy is a ghost of itself, even if as painfully earnest as everything else about him. Meanwhile, his attachment to Nick is so disarmingly genuine from the start that you understand the true tragedy you’re about to watch untold: these men who need each other, maybe even were made for each other, each prove unable to step outside their parallel distractions from what they truly are to each other. Jay’s interactions with Daisy and Nick’s interactions with several male and/or gender ambiguous members of the ensemble have something in common, which is a shocking level of physicality. This show had an intimacy coordinator; that’s the level of no holds barred we’re talking about. When you look at Tom and Myrtle, you can see why that was merited, too.

Speaking of Tom (Cory Jeacoma), the treatment of him here is every bit as scary as it should be. There’s no attempt to make him palatable, unlike what I’ve seen done with him in other adaptations. He towers over everyone else in the cast, I mean everyone, to a physical degree that’s uncomfortable. The way his wife, lover, and friends all flinch when he gets too close to them speaks volumes to the fact that he’s an abuser in every sense of the term. Even Nick, the prodigal college friend from Yale, is on eggshells around him (which, by the hotel blowup at the end of the show, becomes a sneering, reckless contempt, one of the driving forces that drives Nick to put himself between Jay and Tom whenever real harm is on the table). At the same time, this is a Tom who sincerely loves his wife and was only ever using Myrtle as a fling. You can tell he never meant any of the promises he made Myrtle. When Daisy tells him she didn’t stop the car on purpose, it’s as if his wife’s unapologetic act of manslaughter (“It was her or me!”) is the thing that wins him back. They aren’t careless people; they are people who consciously choose, day in and day out, to use others until they’re bored or done with them. The ruthlessness of Tom and Daisy as a couple is impressive, played up to a level that I feel more adaptations should do without fear of exaggerating the text.

As mentioned above, Daisy (Charlotte MacInnes) is no delicate, nervous creature who can’t help her actions under duress. She knows what she’s doing every bit as much as Tom knows what he’s doing. They use people, hurt people because they get bored and restless and enjoy it. I respect a Daisy who’s in control of her actions every step of the way even if I don’t like her; it’s better than trying to depict her as weak and at the mercy of the men around her. She’s a pragmatist and a survivor. So many of her songs are about choices and being conscious of those choices. She is a person you should fear every bit as much as you fear her husband, and even Jordan knows she’s not safe in Daisy’s orbit.

As Jordan, Eleri Ward is one of the neatest personalities on stage. Like Tom, she’s noticeably taller than most, which gives her a commanding physical presence. She has no romantic interest in anyone; I fucking love that this production show her and Nick bonding on the basis of being queer and tired of everyone else’s shit. This is a more likable, relatable Jordan than I’ve seen in the past. This is a Jordan whose relationship to Gatsby is much more familiar and warm, much more akin to the friendship she forms with Nick. In fact, the queer-and-tired vibes that roll off several of the principals in this production are palpable.

Myrtle and Wilson (Matthew Amira) aren’t always played as effective foils for Daisy and Tom, but here? They unquestionably are. They do actually love each other in spite of the things they’ve done to hurt each other, and it’s a constant dance of daring each other, challenging each other. The most memorable duet in the entire show is between them, during Act II. The confrontation is positively electric. These are two people with deep, complicated history. Of all the couples in the show, they feel the most real, the most alive. It makes the loss of Myrtle so much more wrenching; she’s not just a plot device emblematic of the bad choices they’ve all been making. She’s not shallow or frivolous or anything like that. She’s a shrewd woman with complex motivations, and for the first time ever I find myself loving her and caring what happens to her. She’s thrust even further into the action in that one of her part time gigs is working as a maid at Gatsby’s parties, a conceit that works shockingly well and hastens the devastating consequences of her affair with Tom.

I’ve made mention of Meyer Wolfsheim’s (Adam Grupper) uniquely enhanced role previously, so I’d be remiss if I didn’t comment on him again. This is a man who does, in fact, seem to give a shit about Jay above and beyond using him as a tool in his criminal empire. It’s not necessarily a healthy father-son dynamic, but Wolfsheim is usually played as ruthless, opportunistic, inhumanly calculating. Here, he’s a charming, but unquestionably dangerous man moved by a young soldier’s plight. He seems conflicted between his love for Jay and his need to have Jay continue to hold the party line within their business relationship. Wolfsheim is deeply conflicted about Jay in a way that I haven’t seen any Wolfsheim be played previously. And, as I mentioned earlier, the actor has a showstopper of a song and dance number. That may be the #1 “I wasn’t expecting that, but I’ll take it!” moment for me in this show. And I say “may be” only because the moment that truly stopped my heart, will stay with me until everything else fades from memory, is perhaps only understandable in the context of my engagement with the text of Gatsby as a writer of transformative works.

Daisy’s and Tom’s daughter, Pam Buchanan doesn’t always appear in adaptations because she’s a toddler. Even in the novel, she a throwaway mention plus a single scene near the end where the nanny brings her out to meet Jay and Nick. She’s most often left as a throwaway mention without even grave of the scene where she appears. The scene in the novel, however brief, is memorable—and has been captured in all its fragile beauty for the first time in this adaptation. Jay and Nick both pay bewildered, wondering attention to this kid when she’s brought out. Jay drops to his knees and takes her hand when she greets him while Nick looks on in a moment of singular focus on both of them. The child who plays Pam here has a spark, an expressiveness that made me choke up even though she’s only on stage for a few minutes, if that. The tableau is one in which you can feel the shock of reality, however brief, touch on these men—Daisy’s and Tom’s reckless actions may yet do harm to someone who’s barely even begun to live her life, but who is just conscious enough to be a participant in it. They recognize that they, like this child, are probably in for a word of ruin—and that they have let it go on for so long that there’s now nothing they can do about it. For me, the deepest tragedy was watching Nick and Jay throw off that moment of heartbroken, horrified recognition prompted by Pam and return to the parts they’d decided to play out until the moment one of their hearts stopped.

Speaking of grief, of Nick’s grief since he’s the one who loses so much: there is only one person who loses more, and that’s Mr. Gatz, Jay’s father. They preserve his arrival at the house when Nick is the only person who stays around to carry out Jay’s funeral and burial. And when he arrives, the visceral shock of seeing his dark skin, braids, and beaded elements of Native regalia in juxtaposition with his otherwise period-typical Western garb underscore the tragedy of what young Jay was running away from, of what he never quite succeeded in erasing from himself. The burial scene shows Nick reverently bringing several of Jay’s folded shirts from the house and handing them down into the grave to Mr. Gatz, who places them reverently as possessions to accompany his son into thereafter. The cultural ramifications are all at once understated and devastating. Nick has moments with each of Jay’s father figures that are among the most complex and moving in the show. The program does not make clear the name of the ensemble member who takes on this most memorable of all Mr. Gatz appearances, and this erasure in and of itself is both unfortunate and telling. This is a world that never belonged to the majority of those who inhabit it, and Nick realizes it with heartbroken clarity after having this final interaction. Even though he’s an outsider, he’s part of a world that has erased and betrayed the man he loved so much at every turn.

The closing number, “We Beat On,” felt like it needed something more, but it utilized the final line of the novel to a deeply moving effect. The lights go down suddenly as the last word is sung; it feels like the song is half finished. When the lights came up, Nick and Jay were center stage in each other’s embrace, just withdrawing from each other as the entire company transitioned into final bows. That’s how I’ll remember them, always: touching even when they’ve already lost each other, borne ceaselessly back into each other’s arms. If Nick is Orpheus, then I have no doubt that he, too, will tell this story again and again until someday, somewhere, something gives.

[ddejavvu]

hi mei, i was curious if you could write about reader hiding like their childhood stuffed animal or comfort item like a baby blanket from maybe hotch or peter parker the first time they come over cuz they r embarrassed

this is not age regression shit, just to justify LOL

this works with any peter (hopefully) - the first time my bf came into my room i hurled my decrepit old childhood teddy bear into a corner and when he left i grabbed him like i'm so sorry man i couldn't let him know about you and me.

It's a testament to Peter's natural curiosity that you've been sprawled out over your bed for twenty minutes and he hasn't taken the bait and kissed you yet. Instead he's walking around your room inspecting every nook and cranny, peering into picture frames and opening drawers to paw through their contents.

"Peter!" You laugh, watching him duck beneath your desk, "The only things under there are cords; what are you doing?"

"I'm just looking around!" He insists, "My aunt always tells me you can find a lot out about a person by the space they keep."

"Oh? What are you finding out about me?"

"You have terrible cable management," His nose wrinkles as he ducks out from beneath your desk, "But that's better than what May says about me. She says my room tells her that I'm a pig person with no standards for cleanliness."

"Ouch," You snicker, "May doesn't hold back, does she?"

"Never," Peter grins, and does a final lap around your room before finally succumbing to the call of your mattress. He flattens himself out beside you and sighs, "Your room is boring."

"Hey!" You jab him in the ribs, "What do you mean?"

"I mean it's so clean!" He groans, rubbing his side, "There's no- there's no personality here, there's no trash on the desk, there's no clothes on the ground, there's no comfort blanket on the bed."

"I don't have a comfort blanket," Your cheeks rouge, and Peter zeroes in on it with an eagle's eye.

"Yes you do," He accuses, leaning up on one hand to tower over you, "Where is it? Show me!"

"It's not a blanket!" You insist, but you've implicated yourself, "It's- it's a teddy bear, okay? And I put him away because he's... fragile."

"Mhm. Fragile." Peter nods, "I'll be careful. Show me."

"He's kind of hard to get to."

"Show me."

"He's- uh, he's falling apart, too, not pretty to look at."

"Show me."

"He needs to be washed."

"Show me."

"No!"

"Come on!" Peter groans, "I'm not gonna make fun of you! I've got a stuffed animal too."

Your glare is perhaps made less effective by the way that your cheeks are on fire. Peter isn't deterred in the slightest, and the second you grumble, 'He's under the bed,' Peter's swinging himself over the side and jamming a hand beneath it.

"Got him," Peter laughs, peering at the plushie that he's dragged from beneath the bed, "This is your special one?"

"Mhm," You nod, watching warily as Peter surveys him, "Like I said, he's- he's kind of worn out and he needs to be washed, and-"

"He's great." Peter smiles, tucking the bear to his chest as he gazes fondly up at you, disarming the nerves bundled tightly in your chest, "You can meet mine the next time you come to my place."

[mirusuchanne]

📷 How to use a muggle camera

x Theodore Nott

Warnings: smut, no boundaries in relationship, jerking off, kind of an obsessive love, jealous side of Theo Nott, fluff

Your beloved boyfriend was a popular playboy, flirting with girls and playing with their hearts, later breaking and crushing them like they were potatoes. He loved being a playboy, teasing every single girl in the hallways even with a single glance, but after less than 2 weeks, he was indifferent towards them, already looking for new chicks.

But you were very different. He loved challenges, and he found you. You were his only challenge, only thing he needed was to compete against himself, since there was nobody else better than him and make you his. And he finally did it. He felt like he completed his life mission, he had you now and he knew he didn't need anyone else. You were a diamond, a pearl and nothing else mattered to him since the day he saw you.

It was the day when he walked in on you, you were looking at your phone. Dumbledore was your godfather, so you had privileges to bring muggle things at Hogwarts. He looked at it carefully, and asked:

"What is.. That?" He frowned as you looked up at him.

"What? Oh, this?" You showed him your phone.

"Yeah, that thing" his brows furrowed even more.

"Oh, that's a mobile phone" you smiled brightly and he laid down next to you. He demanded you to explain everything about it, so you did so, since he was never really interested in your stuff, so you finally got the opportunity and you wanted to use it. He listened carefully, with his hand gently rubbing and caressing your thighs and your ass, which always helped him concentrate and not miss out on anything. His hand was giving you a heart spasm and making your skin boil, but you still managed to mutter important things about the device.

"And yeah, that's a camera" you said. "You can take pictures with it, but the pictures don't move"

Theodore chuckled in response.

"But, you can also take videos" you said as you pressed the video icon and took a video of moving your hand. Then you showed it to him. His eyes widened as he looked at you "I knew you muggles were fucking smart, but turns out you're much more"

You smiled. "Yeah, I know. We have much more, actually. Want me to tell you about cars and-" you tried to ask him, but he stopped you:

"No, tell me more about that.. Camera" he smirked lightly, in an almost unnoticeable way.

ʚɞ

Since then, He loved the muggle camera. He could take videos of you squirming, squealing his name while squirting and moaning out loud, yelling to not stop, with his desperate groans in the background. He loved the muggle camera, the way it worked with just one tap. If you were away, he would jerk off to that photos of your tight, shining and glimpsy cunt and your tongue out with your eyes rolled back in the picture. Just a single glance of those pictures made his cock turn into a stone. He couldn't help it. He could leave the classroom, take that phone of yours and scroll through the pictures, doing a mute spell on the toilet cab and jerking off with his hand all worked up. He spitted on himself, imagining it was your saliva.

He fucked you doggy style, holding you with your hair with his veiny hand and taking a video with other one, bouncing his cock into you deeper and deeper, making you feel your own skin. Touching the untouchable places of yours, the ones you haven't even seen by yourself yet. It was his way of fucking you, and in each of those love making was included taking photos and videos.

The responsible and overprotective side of him also guaranteed safety: hiding the photos and the videos with the special spell, so only he was able to see all the dirty things he took when he pressed the gallery button. You did not have boundaries with him, he WAS your boundaries, but he never over crossed it. He was the definition of perfection.

And you liked it too. Him always being by your side, being part of you, praising you and never letting other people see the true beauty that you had, or he was afraid that they would steal you away from him. You were in his hands, and nobody was going to take you away from him..

[silken-moonlight]

Older Alpha x Human Waitress Part 6

A/N: Hi there! Finally here with part six, i hope you guys like it! Part 7 will drop tomorrow 😊 also here you find my Masterlist!

Desmonds POV

Suddenly, the dogs began to bark and run toward his hiding spot. They must have smelled him. Were those dogs insane, running toward a large predator that could easily rip them apart?

His mate immediately followed them. "Pumpkin! Spice! Stop yelling at the raccoons!" she said to them angrily, running over to them and picking them up, one dog under each arm. To be honest, that looked utterly funny: two megalomaniac dogs being picked up like nothing. She brought them back inside, seemingly bringing them upstairs since he could see the light there. Desmond crept a little closer, wanting to look into her house through the glass doors.

He heard her steps, coming closer and the back door opened again. By now the alpha was glad that he had stayed in his spot, otherwise she would have seen him. There was a little bowl in her hand and she walked until she almost reached the tree line.

Since Desmond was in his full werewolf form, he appeared as an excessively large wolf. She stood nearly right next to him and called out, "Sweethearts, I have something for you!" She set the bowl down, which contained nuts and fruits. He presumed it was for the raccoons she had mentioned. Her scent wafted toward him on the gentle breeze. Oh, how he yearned to emerge from the darkness and enter her field of vision. Although he understood that it was not a wise decision, she would be frightened. Therefore, he remained concealed as she returned to her house.

His wolf whined, so desperate to be close to her that it physically hurt.

Your POV

The following morning came quickly; the morning sun filled your room, and you got up immediately. You were so happy to see your only friend again that you picked out an outfit and did your makeup quickly. When you were pleased with your reflection in the mirror, you grabbed your purse and said goodbye to your parents.

The café where Will and you met was a twenty-minute walk away; you made it in 15 minutes. Will had already waited for you, waving when he saw you. “It's so good to see you!” He yelled over the parking area and jogged over to you, immediately pulling you into a tight hug. You chuckled: “Good to see you too!” You said excitedly. In a matter of minutes, the two of you went inside and sat down, immediately beginning to talk. “Tell me about your latest travels,” you said to Will, who smiled and showed you so many pictures and videos of him and his girlfriend. Most of them were unpublished and unedited clips for their social media. They had been in the Carpathian Mountains, and the view you were seeing on his phone was absolutely breathtaking. You listened eagerly to every word that left his mouth, listened to every story and every detail. You loved listening to other people's stories. After half an hour, he stopped, since you two also needed to order, and looked at you.

“And what about you, tell me what happens in your life.” He said while sipping from his cold brew coffee. “Well nothing has really changed for me, mom and dad are still the same, Pumpkin and Spice get crazier by the day…” You thought for a moment: “Oh I do have something semi-exciting to tell. So we have this incredibly hot guest, he has been coming every evening for a week or more. We always make small talk, he is here for some kind of business. I think he has a crush on Mandy, and he tips at least 20% each time. I met him the other day in our bookstore and had to leave because of an emergency. A few days later he showed up at my work and gave me the books that I left behind.” You told him as he listened, being silent for a moment. “Okay, kind of weird.” He added and you nodded: “I think he’s like in the mafia. He gave me his card with his name and number on it, in case anybody gives me trouble.” Will’s eyebrows were raised: “That sounds like some of the smut books you told me about. Though yeah it really sounds like he is in something not good. So, what's his name then?”

“Desmond, I’ve forgotten his last name, though.” You said and fumbled for your phone to get out the card. You had put it in your phone case so you wouldn’t lose it. Will slammed his cup down harshly on the table, causing you to look up at him. “That's my brother,” he growled. You looked at Will, thunderstruck. “I smell him on you,” Will continued, still growling. “What…?” You asked, a little confused. Will had told you about his brother. Desmond had been the golden child, who could do no wrong and had been just like Will’s father. He had looked down on Will like the rest of his family.

“I…I’m sorry…I didn’t know.” You apologized. Will looked distressed and said, “It’s okay, really. Would you show me the card?” He asked, and you did. He quickly photographed it.

Desmonds POV

Desmond had a slow day; the meeting took longer than anticipated and was even more boring than the day before. He longed to see his mate; he physically ached. When he was finally finished and went to his hotel to freshen up, somebody banged on his door.

Desmond sighed and opened the door. What he had not thought would happen was that his brother, William, would be standing before him. Desmond stared at him, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. For years, he had tried to contact him. His little brother looked so diffrent, so adult, so...changed. A thousand emotions rushed through Desmond, things he wanted to say, he wanted to apologize, everything

“William.” He said softly, not knowing what to say. Will pressed his way inside: “Listen up asshole, I don’t know how you found me, I don’t care. But if you do not let my only friend in peace and stop trying to take her away from me…I will rip out your throat.” Desmond was absolutely confused.

“What are you talking about?” Desmond asked. “Oh don’t play innocent. My best friend ,Y/N L/N, waitress at the Sailor Boy. Ringing any bells?” The alpha was now even more confused but wanted to explain. “William, hear me out. I did not know that the two of you even know each other. I have been trying to find you for years, why don’t we sit down and talk?” William growled at him. “No, if you show up at her restaurant again I will find you and kill you.” Desmond sighed. “It's not that easy, she is my mate.”

William stared at him.”You fucking bastard, don’t think you can fool me!” Desmond answered: “I am not, she is my mate.”

[tomssexdoll]

HEY POOKIEEE!!! Can you do one where Tom and y/n go lingerie shopping together and smt nsfw happens?? 👀👀 I LOVE YOUR WORK SM!!!

YESS!

TYSM FOR THE LOVE <33333333

Me and Tom were out at the mall, going shopping for me cause he loved to always spoil me and make me happy. We had bought quite a lot of things, ranging from purses, to makeup, to art supplies and more.

He of course, carried all of the bags, letting me explore any and every shop I fancied. Then, we stumble across a lingiere shop, a very provocative and sexy one, the front displayed with beautiful lacey sets.

We went in and he sat down, there was a HUGE couch in the middle of the store, it had a cute sign that said 'gentlemen rest here', I skimmed around the store and picked a few sets, getting a changing room and trying the sets on.

The first one was a beautiful black, lacey two piece, just a bra and panties. The panties were a thong of course and the bra was a bit more revealing. I stepped outside and showed it off, Toms eyes widening as he saw me come out, his eyes never leaving my ass.

"Looking good baby.." he smirked, "do a little twirl for me honey, cmon" I giggled and spun around, going back into the changing room.

The next set was a crimson red, bustier and suspender belt. It was very suggesting and dirty, i knew Tom would freak out when he saw me in this.

I stepped out, his eyes darting to mine, jaw hanging low as he saw the next set, "holy fuck.." he muttered, standing up and spinning me around, admiring every curve and bump.

He smacked my ass playfully and led me back into the changing room to put on the final set. It was like a dress, the bra was lacey and red and the skirt was like a mesh with some red ribbon crossing over the body to make a bow in the middle, letting you see what's undernearth. Underneath it had a cute red pair of panties and it came with lacey thigh high socks.

I thought the last one would freak Tom out but this one? This set was a dangerous move, he could burst at any second and fuck me in the changing rooms, covering my mouth to muffle my moans.

I came out, his face dropping, eyes glazing over with lust, his pants tightening at the sight of me. "Oh..my god.." he breathed out, softly palming his cock, "Tom! Stop!" I whisper screamed, smacking his arm.

"I can't help it baby..fuck you look so good..might just have to fuck you here.." he muttered, standing up and bringing the bags in with him, setting them down in the corner of the changing room.

Luckily this room was very private, the walls were covered completely and it had a door to lock and unlock, not a curtain like those other lingiere places.

He instantly started to take his clothes off, his top, then his jeans, then his boxers. His cock sprung out, red and throbbing, leaking from the tip. "Baby..all of those sets have me so fucking hard for you.." he mumbled, kissing my neck softly.

"Tom..we..we can't, what if they hear us?" I looked up at him, he could tell I was worried, we had never tried to fuck in public before, we both agreed it was way too risky.

"I'll cover your mouth baby, it'll be quick I swear.." he groaned, stroking his aching cock. I sighed and agreed, getting on my knees. "Ohhh baby," he chuckled, taking in the sight of me with my pretty lingiere set, getting ready to suck his cock.

I began by slowly jerking him off, trying to get him ready for my mouth. "Cmon.." he moaned softly, bucking his hips. I smirked and wrapped my lips around his tip, slowly gliding my head on his cock, engulfing it fully.

"Fuckk.." he moaned quietly, wrapping his hand around my head and guiding me on his cock, letting it hit the back of my throat.

"Quick baby, we don't wanna get caught.." he chuckled, I swirled my tongue around his tip, sucking his cock faster, tracing every buldging vein his had on his shaft.

His dripping cock coated in my saliva, building around my mouth with each thrust. He groaned quietly in pleasure as I continued to suck him off, my chin tapping his balls everytime I got to the base of his cock.

"That's it baby...make me cum," he whined softly, the grip on the back of my head tightened as his orgasm started to approach. He started to buck his hips into my mouth wildly as he got closer to his climax, desperate for release.

Tom covered his mouth, his eyes rolling back as he shot a load into my mouth, his cum coating my throat. I swallowed everything he gave me and stood back up, my legs quivering.

"You want me to fuck you pretty girl?" he leaned closer, whispering in my ear, his breath hot against my neck, turning me on even more. "Yess! Please Tom.." I whined quietly.

Tom grinned at my response and wasted no time, he grabbed me by my hips and bent me over, pulling me closer to him, rubbing the head of his cock against my slick entrance.

"You ready baby..?" he whispered, pulling me against his chest. "Mmh.." I said in response, signalling to him I was getting impatient. "Alright alright, be a good girl and stay quiet," and with that he slowly slid into me, stretching my walls.

"Mm.." I whimpered softly. Once he was fully in he created a pace, starting to slam his cock into my cunt.

"So tight.." he grunted, kissing my neck softly, his cock caressing my walls. "Ohh!" I moaned a little too loudly, his hand immediately coming to my mouth, "shh!" he grunted, continuing his harsh pace.

He increased the speed and force of his thrusts, leaning down to suck at my neck, claiming me possesively. His thrusts became harder too, pounding into me as his fingers dug into my skin, leaving bruises.

"Behave.." he growled, gripping my hips tightly and slamming into me with force, chasing his own release. The sound of skin slapping together filled the mini change room, I knew the workers had an idea but were probably used to this by now.

His hand reached down to rub at my clit, increaing the pleasure as he fucked me hard and fast. "Do you like it when I fuck you like this? Having to make sure your slutty mouth is quiet?" he groaned, his arms wrapping around my waist as he pounded into me harder.

"Yes...yes.." I mumbled, trying my best to not scream his name and give away what we were doing. His hand moves faster over my clit, matching the rhythm of his thrusts as he continued to destroy my pussy relentlessly.

He smirks triumphantly as he hears my little whimpers, feeling my walls clench around him as I neared my peak. He thrusts a few more times before reaching his own climax, his balls heavy.

I rolled my eyes back, my pussy clenching around his cock as my orgasm came crashing down, my juices spilling all over his cock. "Fuck!" Tom grunted, burying his face into the crook of my neck as he came, spilling himself inside of me.

He slowed his thrusts as we both rode out our pleasure, savoring the moment before pulling out slowly, his cum slowly spilling out of my hole. "Good girl.." he praised, cleaning me up and helping me take off the lingiere.

"I'm surprised you didn't rip it off," I giggled, getting changed again and deciding to buy all 3 pieces. As we got out people gave us weird looks, but we didn't care.

Tom snatched some more lingiere off the shelves and payed for them, holding my hand as we walked back to the car.

tags: @itsmealaiah @itsangelll @ballhair @kaulitzsbabyy @kaulitzswhxre @cosmicck @20doozers @miyukafujii @tomsonlyslut @bkaulitzlover @ge-billsgf @ella1289

[lyssasdrafts]

★ 𓈒 ݁ STAR—CROSSED (rhysand x reader) ⊹

chapter three: (written) ✧

𓈒 ݁ ✫ masterlist previous next

over the weekend, you had thanked mor countless times for the opportunity she’d given you. she had insisted it wasn’t a big deal, but perhaps she wouldn’t understand how much this meant to you, how badly you had wished for a path in photography to be there for you. it had been a dream that you’d given up on for a long time until you started again for fun in your first year, but you would’ve never thought to consider it until you had the safety net of your degree.

“are we getting distracted now, y/n?” rhysand’s words interrupted your thoughts. you can hear the arrogance that coated his voice like honey. he peers above you, leaning over your desk to stare you down.

you had your chin in your palms and had been staring into the distance, but that didn’t mean you weren’t listening. however, a part of you was embrassed to admit that it was rhysand who caught your attention again and not the lesson. shifting your gaze to look up at him, you fake a smile as you respond, “i can promise you that pretty face isn’t distracting anyone, rhysand.”

rhysand quirks an eyebrow at you, almost like he was trying to guess what you were thinking about. “i never implied you were distracted by me in particular,” rhysand says blankly before a smirk makes his way onto his lips. you blink at him, realizing the insinuation about what you’d said. you curse yourself for referring to rhysand as pretty, but he definitely knew what you were talking about. it wasn’t unlike him to wink at people on campus and make small flirty comments when he knew he could talk someone into something. perhaps he’d even tried it on you at some point. it was a skill that you sometimes envied, the only ever way you convinced people was through your clever reasoning. at some point, you’d heard from elain that apparently you also happen to be quite intimidating unintentionally, something she said you had in common with nesta.

you take a moment before you respond, using it to scan rhysand’s figure. he wore his usual dress pants and a white button down shirt, his jacket further showing off his expensive preferences. despite the shiny silver watch and necklace he used to accessorize, he made himself look more casual by undoing the top two buttons of his shirt. you admired his style only because you could tell rhysand takes good care of himself and as a photographer. you recognized his jacket to be from a designer you admired and studied, revealing how his taste could be similar to yours. although he was a bother for you, the bastard didn’t have a bad fashion sense at all.

rhysand continues to stare down at you, while you wanted nothing more than to slap the expression off his face. his gaze made you uncomfortable, it burned into your skin and left your heart beating faster. he was insufferable, always taking pleasure in annoying and distressing you when he could’ve been a friend. in a perfect world, the two of you should be helping each other instead, if only rhysand wasn’t so petty and you weren’t so competitive.

you stand up for your desk, the chair making a squeak that catches the attention of some people sitting around you. those glances in your direction are ignored as you stare back at rhysand, your faces slightly inched closer than when you were sitting down. you give him one last comment before you stride out of class.

“you clearly think so highly of yourself that i’m not wrong. but since i’m not as vain as you, i have better things to do than entertain you.”

you’d actually been in a good mood for your entire ride to the studio, despite your earlier conversation with rhysand. you had brushed it off for once instead of obsessing over every comment and heading to the library, insisting on working harder to beat him.

this was your first professional shoot as a photographer, and you had a likely chance of being asked to keep working with the studio since the previous one had quit. never once would you imagine that posting your account online and building your portfolio that it would be shown to someone at a studio like this one. you didn’t believe in fate, but a part of you thanked every star in the sky that you ended up with mor as your roommate. maybe there was some greater power that brought you and your best friend together.

perhaps this could become a real job for you, unlike what your parents had always insinuated. you could work in engineering after your degree while free lancing as a photographer. perhaps if you were really good and built a name for yourself, you could even do photography full time. you would prove your family wrong, you could find a job that provides for them plenty enough.

the studio lobby is quite modern and newly renovated, you can tell from the moment you walked through the revolving doors of the building. from the running water fountain to the hanging lights over the main desk. checking in was easy as well, once you gave the name of morrigan’s manager you were immediately given an entry pass and escorted to the correct room.

the studio room is smaller than you expected, though it definitely wasn’t underwhelming. the small room was full of lights, with different backdrops in multiple colors. the equipment caught your eye the most, with large heavy professional cameras that you almost didn’t want to touch in fear of how expensive they probably were. these were cameras that you probably wouldn’t ever get a chance to buy on your own without getting a job in photography first.

you’re left alone in the studio room after being told that the model would be out shortly. even though it was a smaller space that the studio offered, you were told that this model was apparently quite promising, but he just preferred to work with few people. you hadn’t realized until now that there wasn’t anyone else working on the shoot with you, though you didn’t really feel like it was your place to request for any staff.

you realized that he would arrive any moment now and notice the door in the back leading to a dressing room. you remind yourself that everything will be alright, that you can handle being alone with a stranger for an hour or two. you didn’t necessarily need to be too nice since you didn’t want to come across as desperate, just polite enough to be professional. your model would likely be a beginner as well, someone who might understand your current position.

in the corner of your eye, you notice a navy blue jacket hanging off a chair, proving your assumption that the model was probably in the dressing room. you can’t help but recognize the design, the style of the fabric that almost looked black from a nontechnical eye and you realize that you’ve seen it earlier.

your eyes widen once the door creaks open and rhysand steps out, fixing his hair before his gaze shifts to look for his photographer. your jaw drops at the sight of him.

“y/n,” rhysand pauses, angling his body towards you before lifting an eyebrow again. “are you stalking me now too?”

— NOTES

the bat boys are bit mischaracterized at the beginning to show y/n’s misconception of them

y/n is so clearly attracted to rhysand physically… despite hating his personality <3

y/n always wanted to be a professional photographer but their family disapproved and so they decided to go into astrophysics instead :(

— TAGLIST

@thelov3lybookworm @starsand @lilah-asteria @therealmoonstone @just-a-social-casualty-1 @ashjade19 @girlontheblock @cherry-cin @daughterofthemoons-stuff @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @sweet-chai-amore @kierramofficial @noelli-smv @c-dizzle99 @littlestw01f @marina468

[chaotic-mystery]

Pairing: Ezra (pre movie) x afab!reader

Summary: You need more from Ezra, but how much more can you take?

Content Warnings: smut- 18+ ONLY! MDNI. dirty talk, p in v sex, slight f oral if you blink you'll miss it, breast play, use of rope, bondage explored a little, biting, choking, condescending Ezra, sloppy kithes, fingering, mulitple orgasms, overstimulation, crying but Ezra licks your tears up, animalistic undertones perhaps, thigh biting, mentions of your neck bleeding a little but don't panic, cream pie, cockwarming, degrading undertones, praise, pet names (good girl, gem, honey, sir) I think that's everything but tell me if I've missed one.

Authors Note: Hello, sluts! buckle up, this is my submission for @iamasaddie 's writing challenge! I got #24 - Overstim w Ezra. Now I'm gonna be so real, Ezra was fucking terrifying to write for. I love a good challenge though, so here we go! Hope you enjoy & make sure to read everyone else's work who participated! Quick shoutout to my beta's for helping with the looks and contents ( @pedgito & @beskarandblasters ) along with all my hens who held my hand through this. I love you. wc: 2kish dividers by the talented @saradika-graphics !

“Ezra please, c’mon I wanna play some more, please?” You begged, tugging his hand to come lay back down in the cot. 

He’d just finished fucking you and you needed more, you craved more. 

“Sweetheart, I need to sleep, we’ve got a tremendous trip ahead of us tomorrow.” 

You groaned aloud causing him to turn around with a raised eyebrow. Normally attitude wasn’t the first thing you gave to Ezra when you were in a particular mood, but considering how desperate you were for him and all the teasing he had done throughout the day, did he really think only one round was going to suffice?

“There something you need to say to me, little one?” Ezra stands up over the small bed, fingertips dancing over your slightly sweaty skin, trailing up your thigh just above your knee. 

Leaning up on your elbows, you look up at him through your eyelashes and bite your lip. “It’s just, you’ve done nothing but mess with me all day and touch me at the most inopportune times, how can I not want more from you? You drive me crazy.”

It would just be easy for you to dip his hand down and relieve yourself with his fingers inside you, but where was the fun in that? Though you two have explored using each other for your selfish needs, that wasn’t what you wanted from him, not this time. You wanted him to ravage you, to eat you alive and savor the last bite. 

“Tell me what you want, sweet girl. Perhaps I can find it in me to satisfy what you’re needing, but under my conditions.” 

The glimmer from the lantern hanging from the top of the tent catches his eye, showing you the true darkness coming over him. Like a lion looking at its lamb prey, Ezra licks his lips and kneels down beside you on the bed, fingers still dragging ever so slowly on your thigh. Every creak of the cot shifting under the weight of you two makes your breath catch. The anticipation was insufferable and Ezra knew it. He knew it was absolute torture for you to lay there in silence as he thought about his conditions he was going to share with you.

“I’ll indulge in this moment of weakness with you, but in return you will keep your angelic voice down to a low roar, almost as silent as the unknown out there in The Green. Whatever I choose to do is my concern, but feel free to relentlessly use your safe word as you see fit, yes?”

You nod in response which causes Ezra to tut at you. 

“It’s almost too easy to take away your power to speak but I need you to say the word. Say it.” Ezra demands in a low tone, right next to your ear before he licks a small section of your cheek. 

“Yes, I understand, sir.” That always got him alive and feral. Sir. His hand moves to the apex of your thighs and rubs slowly, toying with the aching clit under his fingertips. Your mouth falls agape and already you want to moan out his name like your personal hail mary but this was just the beginning. 

“Sit up for a second, sweetheart.” 

Ezra grabs your arm with his freehand and lifts you forward just enough to get you up and he slinks down behind you on the cot, his back resting against one of the support beams he just finished digging into the ground earlier today. Your skin sticks to his chest as he grabs your shoulders to guide you back down on him, his hand once more making his way between your thighs. 

“You are such a beautiful little thing when you squirm around in my arms like that, I must admit.You should really keep still though if you wish not to have your wrists tied to this beam behind me.” 

His fingers dance around your soaking wet clit, halting any moans you may have and causing them to die in your throat before he tells you you’re being too loud. The burning feeling started in your lower tummy once more and Ezra could feel you tense up, your hips beginning to roll against his touch. Taking note, it was as if a switch flipped and as soon as your eyes rolled back, his freehand comes up your side and pinches your nipple roughly as he bites your neck, layering kisses in between a few times. 

“F-fuck, Sir, please don’t stop-p. Oh m-yy-” You croak out and arch your back off of his chest as his index and middle finger dip into your entrance. A pleased hum erupts from Ezra as he pumps back and forth inside of you. 

“Yes, just like that, baby. Soak my fingers, come on. Atta girl.” His chanting in the crook of your neck was making your back arch deeper with euphoria, whimpering with every dip of his finger hitting your g-spot. 

Ezra was getting you to the edge a lot faster than you anticipated but you weren’t complaining. His fingers toy around your nipple before pinching it once more, your clit thumping against the pad of his finger just anxious to come. 

Your knees jerked to close shut as Ezra cooed in your ear to come for him but he wouldn’t allow them to meet in the middle, to let you take away his enjoyment watching you come unraveled. The smirk plastered over his mouth was loud and clear in his words, only making you want to tip over the edge more. 

“Ezra please, please right there, right-“ you shriek out before his calloused hand that was cupping your breast, comes up to your mouth and squeezes harshly. 

“That feel fulfilling enough to you, gem?” Ezra nibbles on your ear as he groans, making a mess of your cum and rubbing it all throughout your folds. 

“No, that would be fanatical of me to think so little of you, wouldn’t it? Of course you need more.”

Before you’re able to pull his hand away from your mouth, Ezra’s fingers dip inside you once more while his grip on your face loosens, only grab the back of your neck and turn your head towards him, resting along his collarbone comfortably. Crying out his name and begging him to grant you just a second to catch your breath, he squeezes your neck in response and kisses the side of your face messily. 

“No no no no, I believe you didn’t listen to me when I spoke about my conditions. I told you what was to come if you wanted this, and by golly, you did not hesitate to agree, do you recall? Or are you so fucked out of that pretty little mind?” He rasps out before tugging you tighter against him. 

He’d stolen every single last breath from you and any shot you had at speaking. Pussy throbbing, begging to get stuffed, you whine aloud and buck into his hand more. 

Ezra rips his hand away from your dripping hole and slips out from behind you, reaching in his bag for something while you rub your thighs trying to imitate a sliver of what he made you feel. 

Nothing came close to it. 

The frayed rope comes into your view and his devilish smile flashes quickly at you before he starts to tie your wrists together, then to the beam. Licking his lips when he sees how much you squirm and need him back, Ezra holds your face gently before moving to your throat, squeezing just enough to show you he’s there. 

“You are the best one yet, I give you that. Using every last bit of mighty force in that body to keep me happy.” He gets between your legs, sloppy wet kisses trailed down the valley of your breasts and abdomen until he got where you needed him again. The sting in your flesh from his teeth shoots your eyes open and down to him where he was content with nipping at your inner thighs before he really gets to the fun. 

After this you’d have enough anticipation to last a year, maybe more. The black sweaty locks tangle under your grasp on them, eliciting a guttural moan from Ezra. 

“You smell so sweet, you make it hard for a man such as myself to behave.” A flattened tongue presses against your clit and licks forward and back down, the vibration from his groan tickling you softly. 

“Especially when you request things of this nature from me.” 

“I- I need you inside me, Ezra please. Please, I'm begging.” 

He laughs against your clit and looks at you. 

“I know you are, gem, how pathetic, isn’t it?” 

Kneeling between your legs, Ezra grabs onto the tops of your thighs and yanks you closer, the rope tightening around your skin. That’ll probably bruise later, who cares. 

“Would you be a good girl for me and rub your pretty little clit for me, sweet girl? Can you do that for me? Oh wait- you can’t.”

Hearing the condescending tone in his words turns you on even more and with his rough hands squeezing your plush thighs, groaning with every thrust inside you, your mind was in another dimension. Toying with your clit while you try to whine out his name was a new favorite sight for him and he was definitely going to remember this later.

Yet, the fire burning in your tummy from earlier didn’t die down at all. Clawing at his tummy with your freehand, Ezra grunted your name and pounded into you harder. 

“Don’t tell me you’re about to come again. Take it, take it, take my cock so deep like I know you can. Be a good girl, come on.” 

His thumb meets your sensitive bud and rubs circles on your clit way faster than you would’ve. Writhing and gasping for air causes him to keep your legs spread as you once more come under his doing. 

“Again. Come on.” He demands and keeps running despite your squeaks you can’t barely get out. 

“What’s wrong, honey? Is that too much for your pretty little pussy? You can handle it, come on, one more.” 

The tears pricked the corners of your eyes and Ezra leans down, licking them up with your sweat as they drip down your cheek. The animalistic behavior that had taken over him was giving you butterflies in your stomach, maybe even the whole goddamn zoo. 

“I-I- Ez,-fuck-k-k-please-e!” You gasped out and squeezed the rope leading towards your wrists, hoping he’d cut them but that was a stupid thought. 

“Come on, gem. Scream as loud as you please if that’ll make you come harder on me, let me hear that pretty scream you have.” Ezra kisses your neck roughly and bites hard enough to break skin, tasting the metallic liquid on his tongue. 

Your muscles were starting to tighten and cramp up, your mind spinning and the words falling from your mouth before you could even think about them. 

“Just like that, you’re such a good girl for me. The way you squeeze around my cock like that- you’ll make a man go mad. Such pretty sight to watch my cock disappear in that beautiful p-“ 

Before he could grunt out the last of his words your eyes were squeezed shut and seeing stars on the insides of your eyelids. There was never a second you thought your pussy could thump has hard as it was in this moment. 

Ezra’s breath quickens as the squelching from your pussy was sending him over the edge along with your soft jolts from the orgasms hitting you still. 

In a quick moment he was filling you up to the brim with his cum, fucking it as deep as it could go inside you and collapsing on top of you, cock still inside you as he went soft. 

You must’ve been that way for a while before he reached up and untied you, kissing your breasts and nipples slowly. 

“Satisfied, gem?”

[bucks-babe]

Letter for a sneak peek of your nsfw alphabet…

H

Please becuase it’s so fucking adorable and you should share that with them all.🤭🤭

Of course you picked hair😂 @low0tter here is a sneak peak since @buckys-wintersoldier went crazy when she read it 😂

Full A-Z here

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps himself trimmed, usually using a pair of hair scissors to keep his bush tamed. He hates having a full bush, it feels weird when he wears underwear. He uses an electric razor every so often when he feels like going bald, but he doesn’t do that too often. The one time he saw you wince when he was fucking you because his hair poked your clit just wrong, he vowed to shave and keep his hair short. You told him it wasn’t necessary but he did it anyway.

And of course you asked to watch him shave. It wasn’t your fault you’ve never seen how a man shaves his cock and balls.

“So, like how does that work?” Bucky gives you an incredulous look. “Shaving. It seems difficult. How do you not cut yourself?”

Bucky sighs, he should be used to this by now, his girlfriend being obsessed with his cock, and not just because you always want to fuck him, but because you want to know how it works. Can I hold him while you pee? Can you swing him around? Can I hold him when we cuddle? I want to watch him get hard. Can I keep him in my mouth while you work?

Bucky doesn’t mind the last one, he would be insane to say no to having his cock in your mouth. In the end, he lets you come into the bathroom while he shaves. “Sweets, don’t look at me like that, gonna make me hard.”

“I’m not looking any type of way. I’m just interested.” He runs the razor through his hair, delicately grabbing his soft cock, pulling it away from where he shaves next. “Woah, so you just move him around?”

“Well, how else would you shave the hair there, sweets?” He lets out a chuckle before focusing on his task again.

“So you don’t get hard touching your dick so much?” Bucky laughs, almost nicking himself.

“What do you think I do when I take a shower? You get used to it.”

“You always get hard when I hold him.” He has to turn the razor off, doubling over with laughter.

“That’s different, sweets.” He goes back to shaving, now focusing on his balls, pulling the skin tight.

“That’s fucking cool and kind of hot. You know, you playing with your balls.”

Bucky’s cock twitches at your words. “You’re never watching me shave again.”

On you however, he couldn’t give less of a damn what you do with your pubic hair. If you shave, that’s fine, he gets to feel your silky skin under his fingers. Loverboy would gladly put your lotion on you, making sure you don’t get razor burn. Of course, it’s because he has to make sure his pretty girl is taken care of, not because he wants to touch your pussy, no, he would never. He doesn’t mind the prickly hair as it grows back, one time he had the nerve to say that it was exfoliating his face for the day when eating you out. That got him a wake to the head.

If you wax, he’s going to do the same thing, treating your pussy like she was injured, doting on her hand and foot.

“How is my pretty girl? I know, I can’t believe she would do this to you, to us.”

Sometimes he tilts his head so his ear is next to your bare cunt. “What’s that? She hurt you, ripped out all your pretty curls? Don’t worry, I’ll show her what happens when she treats you like this.”

Full bush, oh he couldn’t care less. The coarse curls don’t slow him down at all. He’ll still devour you like his last meal. So what if he may have to spit out a few hairs after, it’s worth it.