#or something not that typical happening in life

[cozycottagetarot]

How Will They Pursue

How To Pick A Group:

Typically I recommend going with the image that you find you keep coming back to after giving each of the piles a once over.

Notes:

This Reading's Contents:

Initial Intentions — Why will they decide to pursue you?

Initial Approach — How will they initially approach you?

This reading is for entertainment purposes only. ✨

LINKS: Dividers | Ko-Fi | Patreon | Paid Readings — Open 🫧

PILE 1

Initial Intentions — Why will they decide to pursue you?

Cards: Two of Cups, King of Cups, Nine of Swords (Bottom Deck: Queen of Swords)

I feel like this is a decision that is well thought out and long pondered on. Your person may come across as slightly intimidating in some manner—  likely due to a label attached to them. They are also someone who is very loving and very giving but guards their heart. A relationship with you or I should say pursuing you is something they acknowledge would have its respective challenges due to your differences, but the pull or attraction they feel towards you is one that they don’t want to miss out on. For them, there’s this sense that they’d endure anything because the reward of solidifying your bond is worth it.

Initial Approach — How will they initially approach you?

Cards: The High Priestess, Nine of Swords, Three of Cups | Four of Wands, The Chariot, King of Swords rev

Your person's initial approach may have a bit of a faulty start. With the nine of swords here, they may overthink how to get you to like (?) them and come across as a bit of a ‘know it all’ … it’s not intentional, I’m hearing that they’re just trying to come across as a good candidate. That doesn’t feel like it lasts a long time though, it could simply be the first conversation or so… or maybe it happens before they decide they want to actively pursue you. Your person would turn to their intuition or lean on that 'divine guidance' for insights on how to best approach you. They’d approach you as a friend first or at the very least someone who wants the best for you. They want to be there by your side celebrating every accomplishment and cheering you on. I think they may also feel like that’s the most authentic way for them to show up balancing being true to themselves and what they believe in versus how you would be receptive to them.

Thank you for reading! 💕 This reading has an extended version available on my Patreon. All tiers have full access to the reading, along with the images of the cards, or you can purchase that particular reading as a one-time purchase from the shop section.

Extended Reading Includes:

Hidden Desires — What desires are they not openly expressing?

Actions and Effort — What actions will they take to show interest? (Available on Patreon Free)

Communication Style — How will they communicate their feelings and intentions?

Romantic Gestures — What kind of gestures can be expected?

Timing and Pace — what will be the timing and pace of their pursuit

PILE 2

Initial Intentions — Why will they decide to pursue you?

Cards: Nine of Coins, Five of Coins, Four of Swords

Your person pursues you because they feel abundant with you. I think they’ve been through a lot from a young age and have been 'demonised' throughout their life… seen as someone who just represents destruction. But with you, it’s a new sense of happiness and joy. You’ve offered them comfort and kindness seeing them for who they truly are under the surface (which may be a little rough around the edges). I kind of feel like they hate or resent everyone (not out right but it’s there) but you. They put in the work though and now it’s like ‘okay, I can enjoy life fully’ and in a way, you’re sort of a reward for all the bad things that have happened.

Initial Approach — How will they initially approach you?

Cards: Knight of cups, Two of Laurels, Eight of Laurels | Death, Ten of Cups, Eight of Cups rev

Your person is going to offer you their love right off the bat, but it won’t be inherently romantic. More along the lines of offering themself as a friend or companion. They will work to juggle putting the effort in with you versus their fears and insecurities. I think it could create a little bit of a push and pull between you two… or not quite a push and pull but more so one moment they're easily available and the next they're there for you still but you can sense they’re distant. It’s a new beginning for them (and in so many other areas of their life) so they’re working through those fears as they come to see where things go with you. With the ten of cups, they may also see you as family— found family to be more specific. So where things go from here they don’t know— but they are willing to find out.

Thank you for reading! 💕 This reading has an extended version available on my Patreon. All tiers have full access to the reading, along with the images of the cards, or you can purchase that particular reading as a one-time purchase from the shop section.

Extended Reading Includes:

Hidden Desires — What desires are they not openly expressing?

Actions and Effort — What actions will they take to show interest? (Available on Patreon Free)

Communication Style — How will they communicate their feelings and intentions?

Romantic Gestures — What kind of gestures can be expected?

Timing and Pace — what will be the timing and pace of their pursuit

PILE 3

Initial Intentions — Why will they decide to pursue you?

Cards: Queen of Cups, The Empress, The Star

Your person may idolise you a little bit.  You have a very feminine energy (regardless of gender as always)— you’re very caring and have a motherly/parental quality to you. Subconsciously this is attractive to them… I don’t know why yet. You’re someone they can turn to when everything feels bleak. On some level, I think there’s that possibility that they could want you to be the parent of their kids (hear me out 🤦‍♀️) or they want someone who can handle kids – What I mean by this last part is that I think there’s a certain level of patience/understanding/compassion that one has to have to 'successfully wrangle' kids lol. I think you’re also just someone who brightens up the world and is so abundant, and they want you to brighten them up too. It’s like that song “Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, Never let it fade away.” But as much as they see these attractive qualities in you, they also want to give you back some of that light that you always give out.

Initial Approach — How will they initially approach you?

Cards: Five of Cups, Page of Wands, Six of Wands | The Waker, The Queen, The Diviner

I kind of feel like your person pursuing you won’t be very difficult for them because I think you’ll be down for it. Spoiler alert, for the other piles it kind of felt like their person was more subtle and those reading the pile were kind of oblivious to it, but with you, it’s like you’re down for them from the start too. Are they aware that you would say yes to them? I’m not fully sure. I haven’t been reading the bottom of deck cards but I ended up looking at the bottom of the deck and you have The Lovers. For me it just all kinds of feels like commitment or the acknowledgement that you too are very important to each other is inevitable… but you guys are open to the journey and seeing how it plays out. There’s a factor of excitement in their pursuit of you also but overall this person feels pretty chill but confident in how they show up.

When it comes to their initial approach, they’re going to put in the effort to pursue you in a way that feels comfortable for you. They’ll learn about your past hurts and do their best to get to know you. I think that’s really what creates success, them getting to know you and learning how you want to be loved/cared for. Even when/if you pull back they’ll be patient. They won’t rush the development of your connection or your readiness.

Thank you for reading! 💕 This reading has an extended version available on my Patreon. All tiers have full access to the reading, along with the images of the cards, or you can purchase that particular reading as a one-time purchase from the shop section.

Extended Reading Includes:

Hidden Desires — What desires are they not openly expressing?

Actions and Effort — What actions will they take to show interest? (Available on Patreon Free)

Communication Style — How will they communicate their feelings and intentions?

Romantic Gestures — What kind of gestures can be expected?

Timing and Pace — what will be the timing and pace of their pursuit

[starsofang]

AN ANGEL WEEPS

guardian angel!simon x reader word count: 5k tw: NSFW, MDNI, death, bits of gore, religious themes, violence, heavy angst summary: simon would destroy the heavens and earth in order to be with you. heavily requested oneshot from this drabble!

Simon wasn’t partial to humans. You’d think with him being a guardian angel to many over the centuries, he would grow to like them. Really, it wasn’t that he disliked them, but more so couldn’t empathize with them like other angels could. Some were weak, some were selfish, some were burdening. All of them, though, were on borrowed time, and that was exactly where he came in.

There wasn’t ever a human life that Simon did not keep protected. All of his subordinates, as he called them, lived long enough to see their hair turn gray and their skin mold into wrinkles and age lines. Not once had a human died young under his watch, and he planned to keep it that way.

It seemed the gods held his professionalism to their advantage. Now that his previous subject had passed of old age, he was tasked with a new one. A more challenging one.

You, a high risk. Normally, people of your kind that had a doomed fate from birth were paired with angels who specialized in that. While Simon was practically one and the same with the others, he typically requested humans that wouldn’t be a pain in his ass.

You were different, though. Something about you compelled Simon to take on the task of being your guardian angel, and he was curious to find out what it was. You didn’t seem like you’d give him trouble at all. You were simply unfortunate in the hand of life, and he was determined to turn it in your favor.

On his first day of being your protector, he watched. Observed. He took the time to jot mental notes down of your routine. You weren’t a busy gal, that much he realized, but you were simple. He liked simple. It meant he wouldn’t have to chase you around like a loose pig escaping its pen.

The more he got to study you like a lab rat, the more he wondered what made you a high risk. You didn’t drink, nor did you do drugs. You didn’t spend the wee hours of the night partying. Hell, you didn’t even have a boyfriend to occupy your time. Even now, as he watched, you entered a bookstore, prancing around from shelf to shelf to read each book cover with keen interest, tucking your desired favorites under an arm.

Just from the first day alone, Simon came to think of you as soft and kind. You were the girl who helped the elderly cross the street, or the type that fed the stray cats in the alley, even if you used your last dollar to make it happen. You were a being with a heart of gold, and it was rare for Simon to see somebody so pure.

You were the type of person many took advantage of. He’d seen it plenty of times before – men and women of all kinds, using your big heart to get what they want, just to leave it shattered in pieces on the ground with no way of repairing it. Simon wouldn’t allow that to happen. He’d seen what he needed to see, and that was enough for him to become your permanent guard dog for the rest of your days, which he swore to himself would be bountiful.

There was one problem, though.

You could see him. He didn’t know how, he didn’t know why, but when his little journey of following you around the city became abundantly clear, you confronted him about it, no bark, no bite. 

“Why are you following me?” you asked. Simon was fully expecting a tone of anger, a weak attempt at trying to be intimidating towards a brooding angel like him, but none of that came. In fact, despite your clear discomfort, you remained soft-spoken. Your voice was sweet as honey, smooth in the way it rolled off your tongue.

“Are you talkin’ to me?” Simon gruffed, eyes narrowing at you. You blinked at him dumbly, glancing around the bookstore before focusing back on him.

“Of course,” you confirmed in confusion.

He wasn’t sure what to do. This had never happened before, and it was wrong. Very, very wrong. Humans still partaking in the act of life weren’t able to see angels, let alone speak to them. It was against the very act of being angels. Silent protectors. Invisible.

Something was terribly off. Perhaps you were a fluke. Or perhaps you were far closer to death than he thought.

Simon was completely stumped. His very existence was the greatest kept secret in all of Earth’s lifespan. Not a single breathing soul knew of the actuality of angels. Sure, many believed in them – it wasn’t a secret in teachings, but that’s all it was. A belief. A strike of faith.

“Sir?” you called out. It successfully snapped him out of his spell-like hypnosis, realizing he was staring at you with a guise of puzzlement. He cleared his throat, standing a bit taller, eyes darting around the room.

“This isn’t how this is supposed to go,” he muttered to himself. You made a noise of perplexity.

“Pardon?” you questioned. Simon silently cursed (lord forgive him).

“This,” he repeated, gesturing between the two of you with a hand. “You’re not supposed to see me. Something must be truly wrong.”

Your expression morphed into lines of confusion and concern, eyes widening into fearful saucers. You looked scarcely similar to a lost puppy, one who had just been told bad dog. Simon felt a twinge of sympathy in your favor. How confusing it must be to have been followed around by a man who was sorrowfully unaware that you knew of his presence.

“Are you a ghost?” you asked, causing a crack of a smile to threaten on Simon’s lips.

“Somethin’ like that,” he mused. “Perhaps this might be easier if we talk somewhere privately.”

At first, you looked hesitant, and he didn’t blame you. He knew how weary humans were of strangers, after all, but Simon was no stranger – at least, he wouldn’t be in his eyes. He would know you the longer he silently protected you as your guardian, while you remained blissfully oblivious to his existence. It seemed that part wasn’t in the cards this time around.

Somehow, you agreed, following him out of the bookstore and on to the bustling streets, walking side by side with him. It was silent at first, Simon keeping his eyes trained forward, alert to any dangers nearby. It was in his blood to sniff out misfortunes from a mile away, and considering your state of high risk, you attracted them like flies.

“Suppose I’ll give it to you straight,” he began, garnering your attention almost immediately. Your eyes were pooled with dread, most likely expecting horrible news. Or wondering why you had followed a strange man with so much blinded trust. “Do you believe in angels?”

“Angels?” you gawked, the words unexpected. It was the last thing you imagined he’d say, and it took you for a complete whirlwind. “Why do you ask?”

“Do you?” he repeated. He turned his head to look at you, noting the gears turning in that brain of yours. It was subtle, but you were an easy read.

“Yes, I guess I do. There’s no proof of them not existing, so I can’t exactly say they’re not real, right?” you claimed, and the warmth in your tone made Simon smile.

He quite liked your character so far. Easygoing with incredible wit and enthrall. It was a breath of fresh air from some of the other people he’d been subjected to. There wasn’t a hint of malice in your aura, no storm clouds that hovered over you in the form of looming threat, no black smoke billowing around you in a polluted smother.

In fact, it was nothing short of bright. Hues of yellow emanating beaming rays. A burst of sunlight, down to the bone.

“Smart girl,” Simon hummed softly, returning his gaze forward as the two of you walked. “This is your first time talkin’ to one, I presume.”

For a moment, you were silent. He could feel your eyes studying the side of his face, desperately attempting to pry open his mind and see inside for yourself. He allowed you the complexity of wishful thinking.

“What do you mean by that?” you dared to ask, curiosity getting the better of yourself. You didn’t feel like the smart girl he claimed you to be at all. Matter of fact, you were perhaps a very stupid girl for following an unfamiliar man and listening to him speak of a higher power. You were even stupider for blossoming an interest.

It was a difficult conversation to have, one Simon wasn’t prepared for at all. He had to explain it in blunt terms, introducing himself as your guardian angel while you stared at him like a dead fish.

Yet somehow, despite receiving such complex information, you accepted it, giving him a smile and your name that he already had mapped in the back of his memory. You didn’t shy away from him. He didn’t understand. He knew humans were complicated, but he had never met one so trusting of his word.

Simon fully expected a breakdown, or a freak out. Perhaps even a fuck off with you going about your day. Earthlings didn’t know that angels existed, so to meet your very own, one so tall and brooding, intimidating and unapproachable with large, white wings that tucked into the comfort of his back, hidden, it was a damning thing. But you accepted, so easily, too.

It was strange. You were strange. Not in a cruel way like he had previously thought of humans, but in a warm way that left him confused. Perplexed. Such a sweet thing like you, so free of judgment and malice, only to end up with a terrible fate such as yours.. Now that was cruel.

Simon took a liking to you after your official meeting. He tried to deny it, reminding himself of his purpose, but it was hard not to form a friendship with you when you wouldn’t allow him otherwise. He stuck to you like glue, never letting you stray out of sight, waiting in the dark hours of the night for you to wake, watching silently while you’d read a book every night.

Where you went, he went. When you slept, he watched over you longingly. When you wept, he ached.

You became of utmost importance to him. You were his priority before, but now, it was set in stone that Simon would strive to give you the longest life, filled with nothing short of love and worship. When he formed this goal in mind, a second problem arose – saddened over the fact that it wouldn’t be him sharing it with you.

“Simon?” you asked him one night. Book in your lap, long forgotten as you stared up at him with an innocent curiosity. You were a nosy one, something he found out rather quickly, but instead of being met with his own annoyance, he grew quite fond of your wonder. “Does everybody have a guardian angel?”

He never got tired of your questions. In fact, he encouraged them. Conversation with you came easy, whether it was in the bright rise of the morning, or the wee hours of midnight. Simon wasn’t much of a talker until you came around, but sharing endless moments when it was just the two of you conversing as people became his favorite routine.

Simon perked up to look at you, eyebrows furrowing at your question. “No. Not everybody,” he answered honestly. You tilted your head at him, curious.

“Then how come I have you?” you questioned.

Simon stared at you, mulling over your inquisition. A pang of guilt tightened his chest. He knew the truth, yet you didn’t. You were blissfully unaware of what was at stake, why the heavens decided to gift you with him as your protector. You didn’t know how weak your own lifeline was, how you risked slipping in the depths of death every ticking second of the day.

He knew what was waiting for you at the end of the line. When you’d reach it, though, was the question. And he wished he had the answer.

“You’re just a special case, dove,” he explained, trying his best to be comforting. The last thing he wanted was for you to worry, to find out the real reason why he was assigned to you. “Nothin’ to stress about. Some people just get them early.”

“Special case?” you repeated to yourself, finger pressing to your chin in thought, face pulling into confusion.

Simon remained silent, eyes shifting away from you to allow you the time to think. He knew you had a hyperactive mind, one that may have been the very thing to cause your future downfall, but he didn’t have the heart to stop it. Perhaps he was a selfish angel, for he loved hearing your voice, loved hearing the cluttered mess of your thoughts.

He was becoming dangerously devoted to you.

Angels and humans were not meant to form bonds. Simon was already being greedy by allowing it to happen rather than cutting it off from the root. He was your protector, your guardian, yet he excused the blossoming growth of your relationship as playing his role. The closer he got to you, the higher of a chance he had in saving you.

“Simon?” you called out once again, garnering his attention. He heard the hesitation in your own tone, as if you didn’t want to speak your mind. “I’m not going to die, am I?”

If Simon had a working heart, it would have shattered right there. If he had a living, human soul, it would’ve lost its glowing light, fading into aching darkness.

“No, dove,” he lied, flashing you an assuring smile. “M’just here to keep you safe, that’s all.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, and Simon felt that nauseating guilt crawl its way back under his skin. It pricked him with unease. He hated lying to you, providing empty promises that your life was under no threat.

He never worried about humans. He did as he was meant to do, and that was the extent of it. Yet with you, he worried that if he didn’t go above and beyond his normal procedures, your blood would be on his hands. He didn’t know if he could live with himself for the upcoming centuries if he failed to keep his promise.

A world where your laughter drifted away with the wind, rather than fill the air of his presence, was a world unworthy. A world without you would be unfair.

As Simon watched you return to your book, your curious mind put on temporary pause, he vowed to keep the Earth spinning with you on it, alive and well, safe and sound – just as he’s meant to do, without the baggage of complex emotions he shouldn’t be feeling in the first place.

The longing for you never became easier. In fact, the progression of the harbored affection only grew tenfold. Iit was increasingly difficult to continue with his duty as your protector without coming to the admission.

Simon, an angel, was falling for a human he was meant to keep safe, keep alive. Two beings, divided by separate worlds, yet he resided in yours as if he belonged there. The more time he spent in your orbit, the more the desire blossomed.

He was a smart angel, one that had developed a keen sense for human emotion over the centuries spent silently observing them. Simon knew that his feelings weren’t unreciprocated, and it was what terrified him greatly. Fear and love, mixing in the absence of his own humanity, taking control of his motherboard and turning on autopilot.

He suppressed these feelings as much as he could. The hierarchs he reported to could have no hint of these befuddling emotions that were causing warmth to run through his bloodstream, as if he were slowly becoming human himself. He could not allow them, or himself, get in the way of his original mission.

That’s what he tried to do, at least.

It wasn’t until a normal night, pent up in your apartment with a warm mug of tea, a book nuzzled in your other hand and a blanket thrown across you to form a picture of pure sweetness, that his resolve began to crack.

You, innocent and curious you, always asking questions about him and never making the conversation selfishly about you, had requested to see his wings. The white, feathered beauties, tucked away in the dip of his shoulder blades, hidden and protected. You were considerate in the way you asked, giving him an opt out if he wasn’t comfortable. No human had ever seen his wings, let alone him, and he found denying you much more difficult than he thought it would be.

So he did as you asked – unfurled his wings, allowing the slow stretch to showcase them. The feathers ruffled with his movement, but they glowed radiantly with the picture-perfect white. Once they were untucked and on display, Simon realized how vulnerable all of this was. He was bearing himself to you with no obstacles standing in the way. He was showing the real part of himself, and you were watching in patient admiration, taking in every tuft of feather.

The wrongfulness of his action was smothered over with the look in your eyes. You gazed at him as if he were the most beautiful thing that God had created, setting aside your book and tea in order to step up to him fully. You were silent, taking him in, taking your time. When you carefully reached out a hand with an itch to feel the soft wings, he didn’t stop you. He should’ve, but he couldn’t.

“You’re wonderful,” you breathed, speaking of him so highly that it made the organ in his chest clench with an ache. Your touch was gentle, nimble fingers smoothing over the tuft feathers. The pads of your fingers were soft, and it caused him to relax, releasing a breath he was unaware of holding.

“Please do not say that to me,” he whispered, voice tight. He took a shaky breath in, shutting his eyes so he didn’t have to look into your own. “Please.”

Your eyes flickered across his face, taking in how reluctant he was. He was holding back, this you knew, and while you understood, a part of you wished he would open himself up. For months, you had walked a thin line, but it had quickly shifted into something more dangerous. Feelings, ones that matched his own.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized softly, beginning to take your hand off of his wing. Before you could remove it, his own hand caught yours, warm fingers wrapping around your smaller ones. He dared to open his eyes, nearly collapsing under the sparkling gaze you had so graciously reserved for him.

Slowly, he brought your hand up to his mouth, releasing a trembling breath before placing his lips to your soft skin. You watched silently, but made no move to pull away. “What are you doin’ to me, dove?” he asked, flustered. “This is… this is not right.”

His eyes bore into yours, sinking into your lovely irises, growing lost in them. There was an unfamiliar pounding in his chest, a foreign swarm of fluttering butterflies in his stomach, things only humans felt for one another. Angels were not meant to feel this way for a human, and humans were not supposed to know they existed.

Yet, he couldn’t deny the pure fondness he held towards you. How he sought you out in every given moment, how his body longed for you every morning and every night. His mind felt that this was right, that it was meant to be, while the voice in the back of his head told him this would end in misery.

With the way you were looking at him as if he had captured the sun and stars just for you, he found himself moving without thought. Lips pressing to yours, his hand gripping your own in a vice, as if scared you may crumble to ash if he let go. You reciprocated, and that was your mistake – there was no going back, and Simon wasn’t sure if he’d want to.

Humans performed things in the heat of the moment. It was something Simon had come to learn over his many years of study, yet him kissing you so suddenly had made him feel like one. It was terrifying, yet exhilarating all at once. To feel alive, to feel real.

He performed the ultimate act of sin with you. He was clumsy and awkward, inexperienced in the way he had you melting on his tongue, arching your back off of the sofa he took you on. Everything you offered would have him sent into an early grave if he were a living being. Ironic, considering it was you on that path, something he had forgotten about in between your shared intimacy.

Simon never knew how wonderful it felt to be connected with a mortal in a physical sense. Inside of you, engulfed in your warmth that clenched around him so deliciously, writhing beneath him like a fever was coursing through your veins. You looked lovely, even with a scorching warmth to your skin and a sheen of sweat lining your forehead.

His wings cocooned around you both as he lost himself in you, swallowing your beautiful whines that resembled heaven’s choir. Your hand caressed the soft feathers of his wings while the other held on to his shoulder, nails digging into his skin, grounding yourself.

Everything about this act was pure sin. It was a test of the devil himself, and he had strayed off of the path of forgiveness and had ventured to a land of lustful desire. Yet, he continued on the path, moving on his own free will further and further the more your body took him in. Your pleasure was his newfound call, his new purpose.

As your body succumbed to its own heated climax, he watched in awe at the way your mouth fell open, eyes lidded halfway, clouding over with a lovely husk of satisfaction. You were more beautiful than any heaven he had seen, and if Simon could die, he’d seek you as his afterlife.

He should’ve regretted it. It was in his blood to find purity, to hold value in the sentiment of God. But as he laid there, your body spent and exhausted, soft breaths leaving your lips, he felt no such thing. He wrapped his wings around you, smothering you in a security blanket, using the purest part of him to keep you sound.

Simon should’ve known that the moment he fell in love with you, things would never go the way he wanted. He should’ve reminded himself of why he was your guardian in the first place, yet he had been nothing but selfish. He involved himself in you far too much, ignoring the angel on his right shoulder in order to listen to the devil on his left.

When he had been told you were a high risk, he never would’ve imagined that he would be the reason.

Everything happened far too quickly for Simon to comprehend. He wasn’t paying attention, he wasn’t protecting you. It seemed almost instant that your body had been struck in the middle of the street, the night sky making everything much foggier to the eye. It started out as such a simple night, with Simon following along behind you while you made a stop at a crosswalk to pass the street.

Distracted by the flowers displayed in the window of a pretty flower shop, he was consumed by thoughts of wanting to surprise you with them. Though he was a mere angel and could get you flowers from mother Earth herself, he knew humans had different sentiments, flowers being one of them. While pondering which flower you might prefer, the entire world had stopped in the midst.

Dreadful sounds of tires screeching, a loud explosion of crashing noises that made his ears prick, and you – silent. Not a single peep. It made his blood run cold, because you weren’t silent. You were curious, talkative, always letting it slip what was on your mind.

Simon stared at your unmoving body on the road, battered and bloodied, tainted with impurity. It was the complete opposite of what you had been. It was something you should’ve never been in the first place.

His legs moved before he could tell them to, and he found himself crumbling to the ground, taking hold of your body in his arms. Blood seeped from your head, painting your skin an ugly crimson. It was thick and vile. It didn’t belong. Not on you.

He became frantic. He didn’t have to listen to know your heart was no longer beating, because he just knew. You were the tattered version of yourself. A corpse, no longer able to smile at him, or ask your silly questions, or tell him you loved him. You were dead, just as your prophecy had predicted, and Simon had failed.

Weeping over your body did nothing to change fate. For the first time in all of Simon’s life span, he cried, ugly tears and snot, babbling nonsense from his mouth as he begged for you to wake up. He shook you in desperation, before holding you close to his chest and securing his wings around the two of you, unable to bear the thought that he had lost you.

The heavens were in havoc. One of their beloved angels, falling for a mortal? Completing acts of sin? It was true blasphemy, a desecration to their name. The world as they knew it was falling apart, and it was all because Simon was selfish and unholy.

Tossing him out was done without question. Sent to the burning pits of hell, white feathers falling from his wings only to be replaced with raven, black and nightmarish. He was one of hell’s fallen angels, while you remained at the top, separated and alone. Simon was one of God’s failed creations, and no amount of redemption or prayer would have him fluttering back up to his pearly gates. Home was no more, though he was sure that at some point, heaven was forgotten and you had replaced that title before he lost you.

Being apart from you was torturous. It felt as if he was missing half of his body, half of his soul. Apart of different worlds once again, not meant to be. Unfated. Simon couldn’t allow that to happen.

Even if it took him years to return to his beloved, he would do it. Even if it meant trudging through the depths of hell in order to crawl to the top, he’d complete the journey without pause.

Heaven may be strong, but his love for you was stronger.

War broke out between the heavens and hell. Colliding forces, shedding blood of the pure, and venom of the demented. It was a battlefield that Simon had been the cause for, vision red with rage. He saw nothing but the fueling desire to be reunited with you, and it wouldn’t simmer until that occurred.

Far too much time passed since he had seen you. Years, even, though he wasn’t sure – everything felt like a lifetime without you by his side. He had lost count of how many sins he had committed, how many angels he had slain in order to become one step closer to seeking your soul. The lovely angel Simon had once been was murdered and buried, filled with angry vengeance that poked through the eyes of a devil.

He wondered if you would forgive him, if you would still love him. After all, he was a blackened version of himself, no longer the image of purity. He was a beast unleashed.

All of those worries melted away into a yearning ache when all war had ceased. You had been expecting him, it seems, waiting for him. Your soul was still as radiant as ever, yet he was now a dark void in comparison.

“Simon,” you greeted, and oh, how he missed your sweet melody. Your voice alone, saying his name, had put out the raging fire in his bones.

“Dove,” he responded back, breathless. His heart was in his throat as he waited for your reaction, to see how you felt about him. His wings no longer white, his soul no longer sacred.

Time had taken a pause as the two of you stared at one another from your place in heaven. He was back in the place he originated from, yet it felt cold and desolate. It was a grueling task to make it this far, and he prayed it wasn’t in vain.

“Your wings,” you commented, eyes fluttering down to take in the raven feathers. He sucked in a breath, prepared to hear your disappointment, but it never came. “They’re wonderful.”

It was the exact words you had used to describe him as an angel. Your love for him hadn’t changed, even though he did.

Simon smiled at you, full of light and warmth. You smiled back, and he was a done-for man. That smile was the reason for the heavens falling apart, yet it was still the most beautiful thing he’d come across. He never thought he’d see it again.

“I’ve come all this way for you, dove,” he murmured softly, taking a step forward. He reached out for your hand, holding it so tenderly in his. He lifted it, placing a sweet kiss to your knuckles. “Please, come back with me. Come home.”

To hell. To madness.

None of that mattered. Simon wouldn’t make the same mistake that he did when you were alive. This time, you would not be met with a foul end, and he would not live a life of regret.

You glanced down at your intertwined hands before looking back up at him, meeting his eyes. Your own were just as fond as before, lit up with the undying love that had never left.

“Take me home, Simon,” you assured, and the church bells sang.

i had many people asking for a full fic of guardian angel simon, so i am here to deliver. this concept's been on my mind for a while, and i finally pushed thru and wrote it fully, so i pray that it lives up to the standards everybody wanted <3

[carpenterswife]

HALF OF ME (iv)

SUMMARY: With Soldier Boy alive in the 2020’s, back in America, he starts his mission of vengeance. Of course, his first stop is to you; the only woman he’d truly wanted to start a relationship with, who’d taken his spot only months after his supposed death. And you don’t exactly expect your old lover to appear in your home, with the intent to kill.

WORD COUNT: 2238

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI. Typical Soldier Boy behaviour, gore, heavy violence, canon divergence.

SERIES MASTERLIST / MAIN MASTERLIST

Finding you was difficult. They were beginning to think Ben had been wrong, that you were six foot under in some unlabelled grave, rotting away. But, Ben was sure. And arguing with him seemed like signing their death warrant.

So, they kept searching. Despite the fact they could have located at least two other Payback members, and had them dead, by now, Ben was insistent on killing you first.

So, they kept fucking searching.

And then they found it.

It was a tiny discrepancy. Something most people would simply brush past. But, Hughie found it, and it was all they needed. They followed the rabbit hole, down and down, finding hidden documents and details not even Ben knew about.

It only took two days to pinpoint your location.

The Appalachian Mountains. In the middle of fucking nowhere. Smack-bang in the middle of one of the largest forests in the entire USA. But, to Ben, that fact was whatever. He had your location. And he was going to find you, even if it meant spending weeks searching every inch of that forest.

Butcher and Hughie knew it was a dumb idea.

But, they got Ben in a car, and started their roadtrip.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

The quiet life was nice, you’d decided. You’d forgotten about Queen Maeve’s uninvited visit, going back to your routine of feeding the animals and drinking coffee on the balcony every morning.

It was weird. You used to be one of the most famous people on the planet. There was blood staining every inch of your hands, and families who were likely still trying to gain justice for the people you killed. You had decades of history. And, yet, you now lived out your days as some sort of Disney princess.

You couldn’t complain. It was better than willingly running into gunfire every week.

Padding through your dark home, the moonlight casting a soft glow over the floors, you headed for the kitchen. You were never too old for a midnight snack. Especially in the comfort of your own home. You turned into the kitchen.

And you saw it. A dark figure, shadowed in the corner.

But, you kept moving, playing oblivious. In your mind, your old training make itself own. Ben’s critiques and advice played like a movie, as you pulled the cabinet open, standing high on your toes to reach for packet of chips. Your senses were on fire, focused in on the quiet breaths, the soft squeaking of boots on the tile.

They moved, and so did you.

You ducked under the fist swinging towards your face, snatching a knife from the block beside the fridge. Holding it tightly in your fist, your stance ready to attack, you looked at the intruder. Every muscle in your body froze.

“Ben?”

He didn’t pull his punches. Ben grabbed you by the throat, using your momentary distraction to his advantage, shoving your back against the sharp edge of the counter. Instinctively, you swiped the knife towards him, but a rough hand caught your wrist, slamming it down onto the counter.

A cry of pain slipped past your lips, fingers releasing the knife. It was his turn to grab it, tossing it from your reach.

No words were spoken, just heavy breathing.

You’d never seen Ben look at you like this before. This look was reserved for those who got on the wrong side of him. Those who disappeared mysteriously overnight and were never found again — but you knew what happened. And so did he.

He was here to kill you.

“Ben—“ You choked out, through the tightening grip his hand had around your throat. The grip tightened, and your breath caught with a squeak, broken gasps for air trying desperately to pull in oxygen.

“How much did they pay you?” He demanded, his voice low and gravelly. “Huh? How much, did they fucking pay you?” There was something about him that was so different. A new edge to him, maybe. But, what caught your attention, was the look in his eyes.

Hurt. He was staring at you like you’d ripped his heart from his chest and stomped on it.

You clawed at his wrist, unable to bring any air into your lungs. Your nails bit into his skin, the scratches down his wrist quickly repairing themselves. He let you go. Not out of mercy. No. He grabbed your collar, lifting your head up, and then slamming it down onto the counter.

Your vision went completely white, all remaining breath knocked from your lungs with a gasp. Blinking desperately to clear the stars, you tried to struggle. But, he slammed you down again. And again. And again. Until he tossed you to the floor like nothing more than a rag doll.

The counter was cracked from the force of it, blood staining the white marble, and splattered across the counter. Your own kitchen. Stained with your blood. You could feel the warm liquid dripping down the back of your head, matting in your hair.

If you weren’t a supe, you’d be dead.

He didn’t let you get a word in, brutal with each of his attacks. As you desperately tried to scramble away, body on fire, he put his foot down on your ankle. Leaning down, staring intently at you, with dark eyes, Ben snarled. “How much?”

“Ben—“ Finally, words escaped. In a pathetic whimper that made his lips twitch in disgust. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Your breath hitched with pain.

That answer wasn’t good enough for him. You swore you could feel the bones in your jaw crack, as his fist met your cheek. You cried out in pain, the force of the impact whipping you around, hitting your head against the ground.

His hand curled into your hair, forcing your eyes on him. “Don’t fucking lie to me, you bitch.” Your breaths were ragged, with pain and terror, staring up at the man you thought was dead. He seethed, nothing but anger and disgust (and hurt?) in his green eyes. “You whored yourself out to me, huh? Put my dick in your mouth? For what? Fuckin’ soften me up like a weak pussy?”

“Ben—“

“Don’t.” He tugged your hair, hard. “I loved you.” His teeth grit together.

Your heart broke, tears in your eyes as you stared up at him. He loved you. And he thought you’d hurt him? He was dead. He was dead. That’s what they said. They said he was dead. Your mind worked at 100 miles an hour, heart constricting.

He loved you.

Soldier Boy loved you.

You didn’t even think he was capable of that. Sure, you knew you had something special with him, something unique. But love? It’d never crossed your mind. You’d always loved him somewhat, always throwing yourself in front of bullets and danger to protect him. Always following his lead and teasing him.

Always pushing your luck with his temper. Because he never snapped. He never hurt you. He never hit you. You knew you’d loved him, when your heart would dance when he chuckled at your jokes. The way your body reacted to his hands on your hips during your first training session. You knew there was something. But, for sure, you thought it was one-sided.

That, to him, you were a good fuck. Just a hole, as he liked to say about some women.

But, you’d been so wrong. And, all this time, 37 years, he’d been alive. And you’d done nothing.

“I loved you.” He repeated, in a broken seethe. His eyes were less angry now, but still held that hint of vengeance. “I would’ve died for you.” You could’ve sobbed, right there. “We were gonna start a family.”

Your voice was shaky. “Ben. Please. I don’t know what’s going on.” You begged, pathetic and weak. Ben scoffed, emotional. “I thought you were dead. I swear it, Ben!” It was practically a plea; a desperate cry for him to believe you.

He was too blinded by his rage. “I waited every day for you.” He hissed, reaching over and grabbing his discarded shield. “For you to come and get me. To save me. You never came.”

“Ben—“

He shoved you down, head slamming against tile once more. Knees on other side of your hips, Ben gripped the edge of his shield, raising it high.

He was going to kill you. You couldn’t stop him. Couldn’t fight it. All you could do was look at him, tears running tracks through the blood on your face. A silent plea, begging him to not do this.

He rose the shield higher, lined up with the juncture of your throat.

And then he saw it. A glint of metal peeking out from under your shirt. He could recognise them from a mile away. They were his, after all. His dog tags, sat delicately just above your chest, resting on the skin like they were made to be there. His brows furrowed, movements faltering.

His dog tags. You were wearing his dog tags.

Ben hesitated, unsure.

He looked down at you, meeting your teary eyes, and his brain ran wild. Of memories of being a couple. Of the memories of when a big question mark had hung above your relationship, neither of you sure of what was going on, but treating each other like lovers anyway.

Your soft touches; the way your fingers would trace the contours of his muscles in the morning. The way you’d kiss each of his scars, muttering against his skin how perfect he was, despite the flaws and the imperfections littering his body. How gentle you were. He’d never felt a gentle touch before you.

How you’d giggle at his jokes, smile blinding, pretty dimples, cheeks flushed.

God, and those eyes. How they’d shine and shimmer when you looked up at him, like he was made of the stars themselves. He always used to melt when you propped your chin on his chest in bed, looking at him with that cute smile, and he’d trace your face with his thumb, cradling your cheeks like delicate glass.

Those few nights spent together, in the limited time you’d had together as an actual couple. The way you’d move together; perfectly in sync, like you were made for each other.

The way you’d hold him. Laugh with him. Smile at him. The passing touches. The lingering stares across red carpets and events, subtly checking each other out, and then meeting up in the supply closet. The quiet moments together, cooking dinner or merely holding each other. All those times you forced him to dance, and he’d begrudgingly spin you in the kitchen. The dates, and the movie nights, and the silly fights, and how warm his cold penthouse felt when you were with him.

Every memory, every moment, replayed in front of his eyes, as he stared at you. He lost his breath, muscles stiff. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring this shield down and kill you. His chest ached and burnt.

He couldn’t kill you.

So, instead, he hit the blunt edge of shield against your head, and watched your eyes roll back.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

Coming to was disorientating and painful.

Every inch of your body ached, from the beating you’d received from Ben. You cringed as the light made the throbbing in your head intensify. Through squinted eyes, you made out the sight in front of you.

You were in your dining room. And there were two… unfamiliar men stood by your table, leaning over files and papers. Movement caught your attention.

Ben. Setting his shield down by the table.

“Ben.” You choked out, instinctively trying to reach out and grab him. To check if he was real. If he was actually stood in front you. Living, breathing. Your hands didn’t move. You looked down, frowning at the sight of tattered rope tying your wrists of the arms of your chair.

The noise drew over the attention of the three men. They exchanged a silent look, and slowly, and rather intimidatingly, approached. You whined a little, at the throbbing pain that made a tremble run it’s course through your body.

One of the unfamiliar men pulled up a chair. “What d’ya know abou’ BCL-RED?” Was that an English or Australian accent? You couldn’t tell through the buzzing in your ears.

“Wha’?” You slurred, blinking rapidly, trying to orientate yourself. “BCL-what-now?” A grunt slipped past your lips. They didn’t look impressed by that answer. “I— I saw it on a file. Back in ‘84. Never figured out what it meant.”

The man learnt forwards. “Neva’ found out?”

Your head shook, and it made the pain increase. Your face scrunched up in agony. “Mm, no.” You groaned, breaths hitched. “It was all classified. Edgar never told me. Mallory and I— we tried to figure it out.”

“Grace Mallory?”

“What? Yes. Grace.” You groaned again. “Jesus. Can you turn off the fucking lights? It feels like there’s a drill in my head.” You tried to push your face into your shoulder, hiding from the light that made your eyes burn and your head feel like Ben was slamming it against the ground again.

There was a beat of silence. “Did you know?” That was Ben. He sounded hesitant.

“Know what?” You peeked up at Ben, eyes squinted to be able to look at him. He looked tense, face expressionless. “I thought you were dead. I don’t know what else to say to convince you. I thought you were dead.”

“How did you not know?” He demanded, his short fuse lit. Ben and his fucking temper.

“I don’t know, Ben!” Your own yell made you wince in pain. “They never told me shit! I tried for 15 years to get answers!”Ben didn’t look convinced. Of course he didn’t. He was so set in his heartbreak and rage, by your supposed betrayal, that he’d utterly convinced himself. “I didn’t know.” You echoed in a broken whisper.

“How’s ‘bout this?” You blinked rapidly, trying to focus in on the accented voice. “We track down the otha’ girl. See what she ‘as to say.” There seemed to be a group-wide agreement.

“Countess?” You grunted, confused. Your gaze flicked between the three men. “I know where she is.”

And that got their attention.

taglist: @onlyangel-444 @deans-spinster-witch @fumolemon @anundyingfidelity @mostlymarvelgirl @aaronhotchnerlover @delaynew @let-me-luve-you @yvonneeeee @livsh20 @thej2report @lostin-jensenseyes

@boywivlove @leavli @cassieriddle713 @drasticemotions @suspicious-stain-in-spain @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

[felassan]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard info compilation Post 5

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

[There are also a series of 'lil snippets' posts where I was just chucking together bits and pieces that I saw at other times: one, two, three, four, five, six]

Post is under a cut due to length.

There is a lot of information coming out right now about DA:TV from many different sources. This post is just an effort to compile as much as I can in one place, in case that helps anyone. Sources for where the information came from have been included. Where I am linking to a social media user’s post, the person is either a dev, a Dragon Age community council member or other person who has had a sneak peek at and/or played the game. nb, this post is more of a ‘info that came out in snippets from articles and social media posts’ collection rather than a ‘regurgitating the information on the official website or writing out what happened in the trailer/gameplay reveal’ post. The post is broken down into headings on various topics. A few points are repeated under multiple headings where relevant. Where I am speculating without a source, I have clearly demarcated this. if you notice any mistakes in this post, please tell me. For notes in here on community council things in particular, I recommend to listen to the vid directly, it's always better hearing things first-hand ^^

Character Creation

"The diverse body and gender options make it an industry leader by a signifcant margin" [source]

"BioWare was keen to highlight the hair strand technology that looked very similar to that seen in FIFA and EA FC, also made under EA's roof" [source]

"Fine tuning sliders that allowed for microscopic adjustments of nose angles, it was clear that a lot of options exist to get the smallest possible body parts exactly right" [source]

"There's no specific genital customisation to be oversold as CDPR did but, much like Saints Row, there is an option for bulge customisation" [source]

Pronoun choice, gender identity, body type, and voice choice are 4 separate options, not tied together [source]

Height is customised on a slider [source]

Size is customized on a triangle like in Saints Row: the 'points' are fat, slim and muscular [source]

The different lighting options are 4 different settings: clean, bright, dim, sunset [source]

In CC you can also try out what Rook looks like in their starting rags, in typical mid-game armor, and some level 50 gear (class appropriate for each one) [source]

There's a way for you to modify your character's look once the game has started if you want to make some tweaks [source: the official Discord]

You can be any class and choose any backstory/faction, any race, any gender [source]

Story and lore

On meeting Neve in the opening, if Rook chooses to say the positive dialogue option (I think this is the thumbs up one, "You rescued yourself, I see") they say something like, "It looks like you're doing pretty well by yourself huh?" [source]

According to someone who played the game at SGF, the game has a Mass Effect 2 Suicide Mission feel to it [source]

The Shadow Dragons are kind of an anti-Venatori faction, sort of. [source] A freedom force. [source]

The Mourn Watch are kind of like the police for the Grand Necropolis [source]

The Veil Jumpers are kind of like weird magical investigators, weird magical nerds [source]

The moment right after the gameplay video ends is 👀❗❗...? [source]

On the timeskip, the Community Council were told that they were going to make it about the same amount of time in-game as the amount of time that passed in real life from the time most people would have last played DA:I [source]

Rook's faction is also referenced outside of the intro segment of the game [source]

In the gameplay reveal video that we saw, some of the Evanuris statue assets at Solas' ritual site are doubled up in error, i.e. some of them have the wrong heads. This is not supposed to be the case, they are supposed to each have a different head (bear in mind this was an early build and isn't the final build of the game) [source]

Characters, companions, romance

Go [here] to see some DA:TV doodles of the characters that a dev drew this year and last year. :> the hidden doodle is a version of Rook, hidden as they have not yet shown any of the possible hairstyles for Rook outside of the gameplay reveal video. [source]

It is Lucanis who has the purple wings [source]

His name is pronounced "Loo-khan-ess Day-ah-MORT-ey" [source]

Lucanis is hands-down "the sole dumpster fire of the crew". Mary "wrote him specifically to be a bisexual disaster of a human. You're welcome." [source]

As a name 'Rook' is closer to 'Inquisitor' than 'Hawke' [source]

The Community Council highly requested there to be 4 voices for Rook. They kept bringing it up [source] (there are 4 voices for Rook)

The Solas face model has been tweaked "a hundred times" [source]

Gameplay, presentation, performance etc

Rook can jump [source: the official Discord]

Rook can sprint [source: the official Discord]

Warrior gameplay (or at least one build of this) involves doing the right parry timing to lead to a certain attack [source]

Warriors have a dropkick ability, enemies can be dropkicked off cliffs using this [source]

According to someone who played the game at SGF said that the game ran smoothly and didn't have any bugs [source]

Companions can have an ability that heals Rook even when they are not mages [source]

Sword and shield warrior's ranged skill is like, boomeranging their shield over there [source]

In terms of the 'the game isn't open world, it's mission-based' stuff, it could be likened to Trespasser in this regard [source]

The first time the Community Council played, they asked if there is a photomode. BioWare said no, and the Council were like 'aw that really sucks, we really wanted one'. The next time that they went to play it, BioWare introduced them to a dev and said "Okay, we have photo mode, all thanks to this guy". "So there is one particular dev we all need to be kissing the feet of" because he figured out photo mode. [source] [nb, more on the Photo Mode situation here]

The current build of the game is not the final build of the game. A few things are currently being vigorously worked on [source]

Other

Someone who played the game at SGF was told that all of the choices and consequences were in the game, and that basically the team are just polishing things up right now [source]

The number of community members on the Community Council is in the double digits and they are from all walks of life. They don't have any contracts which say that they can only say positive things; they can be as negative as they want about DA media. Not every member of the council has said publicly that they were part of the group, there is nothing mandating them to do so [source]. They have not played the full game [source] and they tested it on consoles [source]. A lot of them ended up liking the gameplay [source]. They played some of the main story but they don't know how it ends. At one point they did three days of playtesting from like 9am-4pm daily. "I liked the quality, I liked what was going on, I was very invested. I did have some worries from the first playtest that were completely resolved in the second". "If you are someone who is into the story, I think we're safe, in the clear, I think we're okay. What I saw, I was really enjoying, I'm really excited about" [source]

The name change also surprised the community council. They aren't keen on the 'the'. There are a lot of things that they said to BioWare which, sometimes things just cannot change as it's too late. [source]

They did not see the finished game trailer before it released, and at that time it might have had a different song in it. They fed back that the version of the trailer that they saw was fine (what they saw was a bit different) [source]

BioWare have data on the percentage of people who used tactical view in DA:I and it's in the single digits [source]

Upkeep of the The Keep is a lot and it goes down like once a month. There have been times when it was down for weeks at a time [source]

[darcytaylor]

Are people mad that Luke Newton has a girlfriend? Or is it something more? A deep dive. Part 1 of 3.

I want to start out by saying, I have been following the Bridgerton train since the season one release on Christmas day. It was a show that I knew nothing about and I became enamoured.

I have followed along with the show and the actors since the release. I find looking at human behaviour fascinating, as I work in a very customer service based industry. It is so interesting to me to see how the actors have conducted themselves, especially Luke Newton.

This post will be about why I think people are truly upset by his behaviour.

(some of which I agree with and some I don't)

Luke Newton has been quite the monogamous dater. He dated his fellow co-star from The Lodge, Sophie Simnett. They were both very young at the time, it seemed like a sweet relationship, but young love normally never lasts.

Then he got into a relationship with Jade Davies. She is very active in the Theatre world and it seemed like this was a very good pairing. I think they complimented each other well. You could tell they loved each other. Ultimately they broke up at the beginning of 2023, because they 'grew apart', or so the tabloids have stated.

I do know that Jade did receive some hate (which is fairly common in the industry that Luke is in). I personally don't think that it was as bad as people made it out to be. A lot of people loved seeing Luke in love and proud of his girlfriend. They supported them as a couple. They supported it because there really wasn't anything to not support.

After the breakup is where Luke Newton went off the rails (in my opinion). He decided to become the typical fuck boy and didn't keep it secret.

This is where he made his first mistake - he made his dating life public and it definitely looked questionable. (and yes he made it public by following certain people and posting about all of his vacations). He had a 'type' going into this time in his life (young dancers). But ultimately fans were forgiving because he just got out of a long term relationship. He was hurting and it's okay to spiral a little at a time like that. Fans supported him because they wanted him to have a 'hot girl summer'.

At some point he meets his confirmed/unconfirmed girlfriend Antonia. She seems to get a long with his close friends and people took notice of them spending time together. But I think fans thought he was still spiralling, so he wouldn't actually get into a relationship, he was only have fun.

Then the New Years kiss video was released. Fans did not like this. But ultimately I don't think that was what caused the biggest issue, I think his second mistake was befriending her on Instagram. This is what sealed them as an unconfirmed relationship. Had they decided to not make this decision, I think people could/would have left them/her be. It could have been summed up with 'it was just a New Years' kiss.

I think that Luke had every intention to make this relationship public. I think that, that was his ultimate goal that day. But because of the press tour coming up, he was told not to. I also think that made Luke spiral even more, he was upset that he couldn't show off his girlfriend (and when you like or love someone you do want to do that) and decided to take some of his issues out on his career and fans (by liking everyone of her photos, letting her post photos with his clothing, letting her post photos with his arms and legs).

His third mistake was mentioning that he was the most like his character on Bridgerton (he has said this multiple times) and his cast-mates also say the same thing. Hear me out on this one -

It can be easy to separate the art from the artist. That is simple enough for people to do (I have seen it happen on many occasions). But there were multiple times that he would say he is the most like his character (saying this made the task of separating difficult) - and lets be real Colin was made for the female gaze. He is charming, attractive, loving and isn't superficial. He fell in love with the 'outcast', the one that isn't the 'typical' beauty. Fans held onto this, because Colin as a character made them feel seen. They couldn't separate Luke from Colin because he kept saying he was like Colin.

When they look at Antonia they don't see the outcast, they don't see the girl that looks like them, they don't see a 'regular' woman. She is the opposite of who Colin would end up with, so that would mean that Luke wouldn't go for her. Antonia looks like the girl who made fun of you in high school, the girl who on the outside looks like she hasn't had a trouble in her life, a girl who's social media is all about vacationing and looks staged, she doesn't seem real.

(I want to note that I have no idea who she is as a person, she could be the nicest person).

So now that Luke has made a bunch of people mad they will go on a deep dive. The first thing that people will look into is the age. And she is quite young. Too young in fact. I am on the side that someone his age shouldn't be dating someone who's brain isn't fully developed (this is a scientific fact), ESPECIALLY since there is also a power dynamic. (It's okay if you do not feel the same way).

Luke's fourth mistake was letting his friends post things about himself on social media. Yes, I know that you can't control everybody in your life. But they are his BEST FRIENDS, Luke could have asked them to not post anything about himself. That would have been the smart more.

Luke's fifth mistake was not having Nicola and the Bridgerton Instagram posts with notifications on. He should have liked every single god damn post that they posted. This would have appeased the fans, the fans love that shit. But instead he would like every single one of Antonia's photos and forget about his job. This decision further bothered fans because he stated that he was moving his social media to be work related. I will be honest - his social media is kinda a mess. His social media presence is definitely a mistake he has made.

He goes on the Bridgerton press tour with Nicola (who is amazing at her job), and all of the imperfections of his life are even more exaggerated, because Nicola is fucking great. Even though Luke and Nicola are a pair when it comes to Bridgerton, people will still compare them.

When looking at this whole situation I think that Luke is continuing to spiral. I think that he can be a bit stubborn and he is doubling down. He has to know the mistakes he has made. He has to realize that he could have dated Antonia and not made it a whole situation/scene. If a celebrity doesn't want you to know something about their personal lives, you won't know.

Final thoughts - I think that Luke didn't think about how some of his actions would/could have been perceived, I think he was ill prepared in some of his actions, I think that he is still learning to be in the spotlight, I think he is somewhat immature, I think that he is being destructive to his career.

I'm convinced Luke wanted to come forward with his relationship months ago. I believe he was told not to and he didn't like that answer. He has shown some spite because of it. There are also other mistakes that I didn't get into, if you want a part 2 let me know? haha

Have I lost some respect for Luke during the past year? Yes.

Do I realize that it must be hard to be in the spotlight? Yes.

Do I think that if Luke continues on this destructive path he will regret it? Yes.

Should we also give him a bit of grace? Yes.

Do I think he is talented? Yes.

His actions sure are questionable though!

If you have gotten this far, congratulations and thank you for reading! It's been a fascinating deep dive!

[roseghoul26]

Chapter 12: What Would He Do If He Found Us Out?

Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy?

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, First Kiss, Arthur Is Bad At Emotions, Confessions, First Time Together, Cunnilingus, Missionary, Doggy Style, Handjobs, Mirrors, Party, Semi-Public Sex, Quickies, Unsafe Sex, Kidnapping, Murder, Torture, Betrayal, Attempted Murder, Tags Updated Per Chapter

Author’s Note: This story is gonna start getting dark and sad, so heads up. Content warnings for this chapter: kidnapping, murder, light torture, and misogyny.

Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay@nn-hh192 @photo1030 @just-pure-trash @julialoopeezz @hqxee @salientseraph @crypticlxrsh @lorenaloveslewis @tswizzleislike8foot4 @oziozzioslo

Chapter List

The sound of two men talking is what you woke up to, barely audible over the ringing in your ears and the rain coming down in heavy sheets. 

Blinking away the remnants of unconsciousness, the back of your head screamed out in pain as you raised it. You tried to grit your teeth but were unable to do so with the cloth between your lips, tied so tightly that it hurt. Confusion washed over you momentarily, before the memories of what happened before you lost consciousness came back. 

Panic took over now, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you whipped your head around, trying to find the source of the voices. You tried to move your arms, but they were unsurprisingly tied down, ropes long having since irritated your skin. 

The room you were in was dimly lit, moonlight trickling in from the window well, the only window you could see in the room. It only took a few moments of glancing around before recognition flashed in your mind. You were in the basement, a place you’d only been into on two occasions. Both times you’d been escorted by Hans, as he had the only key. So that means someone either took his key or…

On cue, a figure emerged from the shadows, finally noticing that you were awake. A lantern was in his hand, casting shadows across his face, and it took you having to squint to make out who it was. 

It was the beard you made out first, then his eyes, anger making them furrow. Any noises you made were muffled behind the cloth as Hans stood in front of you, bringing the lantern close to your face. You could feel the heat from both the lantern and his gaze burning your skin.

A second figure emerged from the shadows behind Hans, face obscured. The new figure placed a hand on Hans’ shoulder, pulling him back a few feet from you. He leaned down in front of you until his face was level with yours, allowing the lantern to fully illuminate his face. Your blood ran cold when you immediately recognized him, despite not seeing him for two years. 

It wasn’t your father, who you were expecting. 

No, seeing him hadn’t even been a possibility in your mind. 

A cruel smile pulled at his lips, something you’d never seen on him growing up, and you felt genuine terror. “Hello, sister.” Even though it had only been two years since you last saw him, he looked… different. Physically, he looked the same, hair a little longer, the last remnants of his soft, boyish features having vanished. It was his demeanor that was different, eyes cold and calculating, an air of superiority to his actions. 

His grin turned wider when you tried to talk, and in the low light, you saw the flash of a blade. Instinctively you leaned back as far as you could, nearly toppling the chair you were tied to in the process. But you could do nothing but watch as your brother brought the blade up to your face, cutting through the fabric between your lips. But he pressed too hard, and tears stung your eyes as he cut your cheek as well. “Whoops,” he muttered, not sounding the tiniest bit remorseful. 

He tugged the cloth from your mouth, turning red from the blood now dripping from your cheeks, and you stretched out your aching jaw. “J-Joey? What’re you doin’?”

He visibly flinched at the nickname, anger flashing in his eyes. “We ain’t children anymore. You best remember that.”

You swallowed, your throat dry and scratchy. Betrayal unlike anything you’d felt before tore at your heart, but you still refused to believe that your brother would do anything to harm you. “Joseph. What. Are. You. Doing?”

He laughed at that, standing back upright, swinging the blade without a care in the world. “What does it look like? I’m making sure everythin’ doesn’t fall apart.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

“She still doesn’t know?” Your brother directed the question at Hans, who nodded. “I have to say, I’m impressed. I hadn’t expected you to hold up your end of the deal so well.”

If Hans was offended, he didn’t show. “What fuckin’ deal?” You spat out, eyes flicking between the two men.

“Now, that ain’t no talk for a lady. And I don’t think you’re in any position to be askin’ questions.”

You could hardly recognize the person in front of you, your younger brother. Long gone was the wide-eyed child that asked you to read him to sleep, or to mend his broken stuffed animals. “Joseph-”

You were cut off when he stuffed the cloth back into your mouth, nearly making you gag, and you resisted the urge to bite down on his fingers. Hurting him wouldn’t be in your favor right now. “You never know when to be silent, do you?” He asked, shaking his head lightly. “Even when we were kids, you could never just be quiet. You always had to be the center of attention, to get everything that you wanted. It was always about you.” 

He crouched down in front of you, resting the dagger on your thigh. “Do you know what it’s like, to to live in your shadow? To always be second to you. To watch you get everything, and leave me with crumbs?”

You managed to spit out the cloth, making his recoil slightly. “What’re you talkin’ ‘bout?” He sighed, and you couldn’t help the slight bit of anger that flared. “Answer me!”

A sharp slap across the face stunned you, rings cutting into your cheek. Tears once again sprung to your eyes, and they flowed down your cheeks, mixing with the blood there. “God, you’re insufferable. You put up with this for two years?”

“She was never this… combative,” Hans admitted, talking about you like you weren’t a person, but a prize horse he was trying to sell.

“Let’s see those manners that mother taught you.” When you remained silent, a pleased look appeared on his face, getting true enjoyment from watching you break. “Very good,” he spoke condescendingly, following your gaze when you tried to avert it. 

You flinched when you felt the blade graze your leg, dangerously close to breaking skin. “Mr. Van Buren.” Hans’ tone was undistinguishable, but your brother took it as Hans was watching him doing something he wanted to do. 

The only word you could use to describe Joseph’s smile was sadistic as he stood, handing the knife to Hans. The older man eyed it warily, yet he still took it. His hands shook, but whether it was because of nerves or age you couldn’t tell. “Apologize,” Joseph spoke, taking a step back. “I’ll save you the honors. You’ve plenty you’d like to say to your wife, I suppose.”

“That I do.” His words made you shiver, a deathly anger to them, and for the first time since you’d gotten married, you were afraid of him. Knife in hand, he took Joseph’s place, and you felt the blade poke back into your leg. It would take one slice and you’d bleed out, and so you kept as still as you could. 

You didn’t have to think hard to know what Hans was about to say to you; it was either going to be about his business or Arthur. God, how you wished for Arthur to be here right now, to kick down the door and save you. But that was just a beautiful fantasy, one that brought you the tiniest semblance of comfort. It was at that point you realized that the only reason you weren’t fighting back was the possibility of never seeing him again. You were more likely to survive if you complied, right?

“How long?” Hans asked, demanded. 

“How long…?” You had to be careful now, not wanting to admit to something he didn’t know about.

“Don’t play coy,” he gritted his teeth, pressing the blade down harder. “How long were you working with them?”

“Helpin’ the Van Der Linde gang exploit your moonshine business?” A curt nod was all you got in response, but even then you could see a slight bit of surprise by your bluntness. “Since a few weeks after we met Mr. Van Der Linde in Rhodes.”

He chewed over your words for a few moments, time ticking by torturously slow. His expression was unreadable, which made you more worried than anything. His next question you weren’t expecting, your eyes widening in both shock and horror. “How long has he been coming over for?” So he knew about both things.

You both stared at each other, words escaping you momentarily. “For even longer,” you whispered, thinking it would be a smarter choice to tell the truth. “He… he kept me company while you were away.”

“‘Kept you company’,” he scoffed, partially in disbelief. 

You mustered up enough courage to ask a question. “How did you-” 

“I didn’t know for certain, but I had my suspicions when you wouldn’t put that newspaper down. Then I remembered how you used to stare at him like he was a saint, not some deranged outlaw, and it just clicked. I finally opened my eyes, refusing to ignorantly believe that after all I’ve done for you, that you’d betray me like that.”

“You’ve done nothing for me,” you seethed, pulling at your restraints, all cautions thrown to the wind. Two years of pent-up emotions came tumbling out, and you could do nothing to stop them. “You treated me like I was a fuckin’ accessory, not a person. You kept me caged, controlling everything little thing I did, trying to sculpt me into who you wanted me to be. And I let it happen, ‘cause I thought by sacrificing my fuckin’ freedom that I was helpin’ my family. But turns out that was all a lie,” you glared at Joseph, who seemed to be reveling in your outburst. “You didn’t care about me. You didn’t love me. So why should you care that I had someone else take care of that need?”

“Because you’re mine,” Hans practically screamed at you, the vein at his temple bulging. “You’re my wife, and I don’t like people touching what’s mine.”

“I don’t belong to you,” you leaned forward, bringing your face as close to Hans as you could. You were surprised to find that you were able to move closer than you thought, the ropes looser than they were originally, your trashing no doubt making them so. But you kept your revelation to yourself, showing no indication on your face. “I am my own person. No one has claim to me.”

“What about Arthur?” You hated the way he said his name. 

“I belong to him as much as he belongs to me. Unlike you, he respects me. He treats me like a person, and he listens when I talk. He cares about me. He loves me. He’s earned the right to claim me as his, but only because I let him. I never gave that permission to you.”

“Then where is he?” Joseph finally spoke, not trying to hide the smugness in his voice. “If he cares about you as much as you claim, then where is he?” He chuckled, responding before you could answer. “If my memory serves me well, Arthur Morgan hasn’t been seen alive since the robbery in Saint Denis.” 

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of upsetting you, as much as you wanted to let your face fall. “He’s alive,” was all you said, a certainty you weren’t expecting in your infliction.

He just laughed. “If it makes you feel better, then keep telling yourself that.”

You took a shuddering breath. “What do you want?” You finally asked, glancing between Hans, who still sat crouched in front of you, and your brother, who was pacing slowly. Carefully, you began to twist your wrists, the action going unnoticed by the two men, loosening the rope even further. You swore you could slip your hands out if you wanted; you just needed an opportunity to do so. 

“I’m making sure that you don’t mess everything up, sister. I’ve worked so hard to make sure everything’s been perfect for the past two years, and I’m not about to let you mess it all up.” Joseph spoke as he walked past you, heading straight to the basement stairs. “Do with her as you wish, Hans. Just make sure she stays… quiet.” 

“Joseph, don’t-”

“I’ll send the family your regards. Oh, how excited they were to hear from you again.” You couldn’t see him any longer, but you knew he was smiling. “How tragic that a terrible, contagious illness has rendered you bedridden.”

“Joey-”

Slam!

The basement hatch closed, shaking the foundation of the house, and making your head pound. With a thundering heart, you realized it was just you and Hans in the basement, and he still had the knife trained on your leg. A whimper left you when he dragged it up until it poked you right in the center of your chest. “You’ve humiliated me, you know,” you heard Hans mutter. 

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t lie to me,” his voice was dripping with hatred. “You’re just gonna make this harder for yourself.”

“Hans-”

“Just a quick thrust, and it’ll be done.” He was mainly speaking to himself, his eyes trained on the blade that sat above your heart. “Or should I draw this out, make it hurt?”

Too distracted by the prospect of doing unimaginable things to you, he didn’t notice that your hands were now free of their bindings. A well-aimed punch to the nose sent him falling backward, his head hitting the hard cement floor. It wasn’t enough to render him unconscious, but it disoriented him momentarily, and he lost grip of the knife, sending it scattering across the floor. 

You were on your feet in seconds, thankful that they hadn’t had the mind to tie your legs down. Hans had just recovered when you got the weapon in your hands, holding it out in front of you. “Let me go,” you warned him, taking slight pride in the fact that his nose was now crooked, blood spewing from it. 

“You bitch,” he roared, making you panic that Joseph heard him. You didn’t have much time to think, though, before he was lunging at you. You managed to sidestep him, his movements slow, but weren’t expecting him to stick out a leg as you ran past. It wasn’t enough to make you fall to the floor, but you stumbled. 

It gave him enough of an opportunity to reach at you from behind, arms wrapping around your waist as if he had completely forgotten you had a knife in your hands. Or maybe he was convinced that you wouldn’t use it. If that was the case, then he was in for the surprise of his life.

It only took one plunge into his arm before he was letting you go, a cry of pain leaving him. Even in the dim light, you could see the blood now coating the blade, and you had to fight back a wave of nausea. 

Spinning around, you watched as he gripped his now wounded forearm, crimson spilling between his fingers. Pure hatred shone in his eyes, and you watched as he let go of his injury to reach for something in his pocket. All you had to see was the grip of a gun before you were lunging at him yourself, blade outstretched. 

A horrible noise filled the room as the knife burrowed into his chest, the breath being knocked out of Hans as it did. Slowly, he looked down to where it was embedded, then back up to you, the fire slowly leaving his eyes. You heard your name being muttered before he fell to his knees in front of you, life quickly leaving his body.

He tried to speak again, but could only muster a small gurgle. Bile rose in your throat, but you forced it back down. “Oh, God,” you whimpered and were about to run your hands down your face until you noticed they were covered in blood. 

You could do nothing but watch as Hans finally fell, head hitting the cement as the last bit of air left his body, before going completely still. Despite everything, you couldn’t help the tinge of sorrow you felt in your heart, never have taken a life before, and a small sob left you. 

Thudding from upstairs quickly tore you from your lamenting, and taking a steadying breath you regained enough composure to move. With shaky hands, you grabbed the gun that was still in Hans’ pocket, making sure to not look at his face, the expression of shock forever etched onto it. Your hands shook as you grasped the weapon, which you were relieved to find was a revolver, albeit a bit heavier than the one Arthur taught you to use. Still, you’d be able to use it. 

Another loud thump from upstairs made you jump, and you realized you needed to get the hell out of there. Going up the stairs was out of the question, leaving you with just the window as well as your only means of escape. Dashing over, you were relieved to find that the window locked from the inside, and was definitely large enough to allow you to crawl through. 

Throwing the window open, you were immediately met with rain pelting your skin, irritating the wounds on your body. Shrugging it off, you climbed into the well, fighting with your skirts the entire time. Eventually, you were able to stand, and slowly but surely you began to climb up the brick walls, not before tossing the gun to the top.

You’d barely gotten halfway out before you heard the sound of the basement hatch being slammed open, and adrenaline took over You refused to let yourself be taken prisoner by your brother. Another thought crossed your mind, providing you with the extra push you needed to climb out of the well; you needed to see Arthur again. 

Gasping for breath, you lay on your back for a second, your body immediately getting soaked with rain. Glancing around, you recognized that you were in front of the house, the porch to your right. You didn’t even bother to glance at it, heading straight for the dark forest that surrounded your house.

Grimacing, you grabbed the gun and stood up, your bare feet squishing into the mud as you began to run. Where to, you had no idea, but you needed to escape. So caught up in surviving, you failed to notice the two horses tied up near the entrance, one of them nickering in recognition. 

You’d barely stepped foot into the forest before you heard your name being shouted, loudly despite the rain coming down heavily. Despite how loud it was, you couldn’t recognize the voice. Or maybe you refused to recognize it. All you know is that it just pushed you deeper into the forest, your running turning into a full-on sprint. 

Sticks and twigs tore at you as you sprinted, cutting into your skin. Your bare feet cried out in pain with every sharp rock and piece of wood you stepped on, but you ignored them. But you could only run for so long, especially with how heavy your dress had gotten from the rain, and before you knew it you were slowing down. 

Ducking behind a large tree, you gave yourself a moment to catch your breath, the gun shaking in your hands. It was then you finally heard the sound of someone tearing through the forest behind you, and you readied the gun in your hand as they drew closer. 

It was incredibly dark, and you could barely even see a few inches in front of you. Making yourself as quiet as possible, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you waited. 

And waited.

And waited, until finally a dark figure appeared at your right, their steps slow. He was leaning forward, like he was following your track, before looking up in confusion when it suddenly stopped. It was then you cocked the gun, making the stranger spin around, his hands up. 

You couldn’t make out his features, but you didn’t have to see him to know who it was. Still, you wouldn’t let yourself believe it was actually him, and you held the gun up in front of you, both hands gripping it, just like he taught you. 

You heard your name leave his lips, oh-so softly, the familiarity of it making your heart ache. Yet, you shook your head, keeping the gun raised high, despite the way your hands shook. He took a step towards you, keeping his hands raised, and you didn’t stop him. Even as he brought his hands on top of the barrel and pushed it down gently, you didn’t stop him. It was like you’d lost control of your body. 

Tears mixed in with the rain that ran in rivulets down your cheeks, a pained noise leaving you as you finally let the gun drop. He caught it before it hit the ground, and he pocketed it, eyes never once leaving yours. Even though you knew those blue eyes so well, you couldn’t bring yourself to move anymore, and a sympathetic sigh left the man in front of you. 

“Darlin’...” he murmured, voice raspier than you remembered, and a calloused hand grasped your face softly, reverently. 

“Arthur?” Your voice cracked and wavered, yet it was hopeful. 

“Unfortunately,” he tried to joke, but emotion made his words sound heavy. A thumb brushed over your cheek, narrowly avoiding the wound there. “What did they do to ya…”

Finally, a sob tore through you, and it wasn’t so much that your body let you move than it was your legs giving out beneath you, and you flung your arms around his shoulders. His body was thinner than you remembered, yet it was still him, and another sob racked your body as you buried your face into his neck. He still smelled of gunpowder and tobacco. 

Oh, how you missed that scent.

Immediately, his hands were on you, one of them cradling the back of your head, the other resting on the small of your back. His lips pressed against the top of your head, providing an overwhelming sense of relief to flood your body. You were safe. He was alive. 

Arthur murmured sweet nothings into your ear as he held you, letting you cry and sob and shake in his embrace. Even as the rain soaked both of your bodies, he continued to hold you, like the elements did not affect him. 

Eventually, your cries rescinded, coming out as hiccups instead. Peeling your head away, you glanced up at Arthur, still partially convinced that this was all a dream. His hair was longer than last time, and instinctively you reached a hand to run your fingers through it, at least as well as you could with his hat on. “I’m so sorry-”

“You came back to me,” you cut him off accidentally but were glad of it.

“Of course,” he responded almost immediately, instinctively. “I promised, didn’t I?”

“But… but what happened, Arthur?” I thought you were dead. 

He sighed, a soft smile still on his lips. “I promise I’ll tell ya, but you’re gonna catch your death out here. Let’s get back to the house.”

You shook your head, fear overtaking you momentarily. “He’s back at the house, I-”

“We’ve got him, darlin’. Don’t worry ‘bout that.” He paused a moment, unsure of how to ask the next question. “And your husband?”

“Dead.”

You had no idea if he realized that you were the one who killed him. He simply nodded and then placed another gentle kiss on your head. You felt an arm secure behind your legs, and you weren’t given a chance to protest before he was lifting you bridal-style. “Let’s get outta here.”

You didn’t have any arguments against that. Now that adrenaline had worn off, you finally realized how cold you were, shivering in Arthur’s grasp, despite the warmth you felt radiating from his body. It was strange, the way everything seemed to click into place once you were back in his arms. He expertly weaved his way through the forest, careful not to let any more branches snag at your body, and eventually, the house came into view.

You weren’t shivering because of the cold anymore, and you pressed yourself as close as you could to Arthur. You hated how small those two men were making you feel, and how much power they had over you even though they were both currently not an issue. A light cough from Arthur tore you from your thoughts, and it seemed like he was holding back a coughing fit.

He carried you right up the porch stairs and right into the house, setting you on your feet in the living room. You cringed as your mud-covered feet made contact with the ground, and you felt him chuckle lightly. “I’ll clean it, I promise.”

Any response you had tied in your throat when you saw movement out of the corner of your eye in the kitchen. It wasn’t the tied-up unconscious form of your brother that you saw first, rather it was the woman with a gun behind him. Something about her was familiar, and despite every instinct in your body telling you otherwise, you took a step towards her.

It was her eyes that you recognized, ones you’d seen in Arthur’s sketchbook. They were filled with rage, just like you remembered. If you thought they made you uneasy in a drawing, it was even worse in person. Still, you kept your head up high, not wanting to make a bad impression. 

You felt Arthur behind you, a hand planted on the small of your back. “Darlin’, this is-”

“Sadie Adler,” you finished his sentence, catching them both by surprise. 

“Mrs. Kerrigan,” she nodded to you. 

“Please, just my first name is fine. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” You took another step towards her, bowing your head slightly. “Although I would’ve preferred it to be under less… macabre circumstances.”

She chuckled at that, falling into an easy stance. “The feeling’s mutual. Arthur’s told me all about you.”

“Is that so?” You turned to look at Arthur, who met your eye, yet had a slight blush to his cheeks. Now in a well-lit area, you noticed that his skin was tanner than the last time you saw him, yet even that couldn’t hide how tired he looked. The circles beneath his eyes were impossibly dark, and you could now see that his eyes were bloodshot. You opened your mouth to ask about it, but the sound of your brother groaning captured your attention.

When you turned, you saw that Sadie had her gun already trained on him, her other hand yanking back his head by the hair. “What’re you doin’ here?” You hear Sadie ask, her voice sounding more like a growl than anything. “Whaddya want with her?”

You answered for him. “He’s my brother,” you explained softly, and you heard Arthur inhale sharply. “He and my husband struck a deal two years ago, but apparently I was close to ruinin’ whatever they had goin’ on. They… they were gonna kill me.” You rubbed at your irritated wrists, which allowed Arthur to finally see the rope burn there.

Warm hands encapsulated your wrist, tugging it towards his chest as he moved beside you. His expression was nothing short of murderous, his jaw clenched so tight you swore you could hear his teeth grinding. “They tied ya up?” He asked like he couldn’t even fathom someone doing that to you. 

You nodded your head, flashes of the last hour popping into your mind, but you ignored them as best you could. “Thankfully they weren’t very good at it.”

He hummed in agreement. “What’s this ‘bout a deal?”

“I ain’t too sure,” you admitted. “All I know is it had to do with my marriage. He refused to tell me anythin’ more.”

“We’ll get some answers for ya.” The sound of Sadie’s voice made you jump, momentarily forgetting she and your brother were still in the room. Even still, you could get so distracted by Arthur, especially when he was touching you. He let your wrist drop, but he kept a light touch on your back, reminding you of his presence, comforting you. 

Your brother groaned your name as he continued to come to, brows furrowed in confusion when he felt the rope restraints around his arms and legs. “W-What’s goin’ on?” He slurred out, eyes darting between you and Arthur, wincing when Sadie tugged harshly at his hair.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to be askin’ questions, brother,” you spat his own words back at him. 

“Oh, spare me the dramatics,” he scoffed, his attitude returning to him, despite the position he was in. “What do you want?”

“I want, no, deserve an explanation.” You were impressed by how steady your voice was. “What deal did you make with Hans? What did you do?”

He attempted to struggle against the ropes, but his attempt was cut short by the sound of a gun being cocked behind him. “She asked ya a question,” the woman behind him spoke lowly. 

He sighed dramatically like this was all some minor inconvenience. “Look, this is all a small misunderstanding-”

“‘Small misunderstanding’?” Your voice rattled your ears. “This is my fuckin’ life we’re talkin’ ‘bout here! Not a petty disagreement!”

“Bring Hans in, and we’ll explain-”

Without thinking, you grabbed the knife off of Arthur’s belt, too quick for him to stop you. All you could see was red as you charged at your brother, yet you still had enough restraint to prevent the blade from sinking into his chest. Instead, the tip of it poked his skin, most likely hard enough to draw blood beneath his shirt. “He’s dead, Joseph. I killed him. And I’m gonna kill you too if you don’t start talkin’.”

You were grateful that neither Arthur nor Sadie tried to ease you away. Instead, they watched on, both impressed in their own ways. For a moment, you saw fear flash across your brother's face, clearly not expecting his docile sister to ever attempt to bring harm to him. He gulped, face turning pale, and you watched as his eyes flicked to Arthur, attempting to find any help in this situation.

“You best answer her,” is all Arthur said, taking a step closer to you. Not to stop you, but in support. 

“Sister-”

“Tell me.”

“I don’t-”

“Tell me!” 

He cried out when you pressed the blade in deeper, his head bobbing in all directions. “Okay! Okay! J-Just stop! Please!” Tears ran down his cheeks, and for a moment you saw your little brother again, scared and helpless, and despite yourself, you felt an instinctive need to protect him. But you were able to shake that off, especially when his eyes returned to your own, filled with intense malice. 

He sighed out in relief when you let up some, and he let his head hang limply. “Me… Me and Hans came to an arrangement two years ago. He’d get a wife, you, and unrestricted travel through northern New Hanover, for his moonshine. And I would receive a cut of his profits,” he took a breath, “and I would be free of you.”

“Free of me?”

He groaned. “Yes. With you out of the picture, I’d be the one to inherit the family’s business. I wouldn’t have to live in your shadow anymore. I’d be the head of the Van Buren family, as is my right as a first-born son. I don’t know what father was thinking, planning to let his daughter inherit everything. It goes against everything society expects, and if that were to happen, we’d be freaks. Outcasts. I did this to protect our family.”

“Oh no, don’t lie. You did it for your own selfish needs. You were jealous.”

“And so what if I was?” Joseph snarled. “Our entire childhood, you were treated like you were a goddess. Whatever you wanted, you got. If you were wrong, you were right. Mother and father catered to your every whim, while I was told to figure it out myself.”

“How is that my fault?”

He ignored you. “So yeah, I was jealous. But any person in that position would be. And when father said he was signing away all ownership of the business to you, I damn near lost it.”

“And so you thought the next best thing to do was to marry me off, which you had no right to do.”

“I didn’t marry you off. That was father’s doing.”

“But why?” Joseph looked away, and your stomach dropped. “You made him do it.”

“It didn’t take much to convince father that you’d fallen pregnant with Hans’ child. Rather than deal with the embarrassing matter of your first-born daughter having a child out of wedlock, he agreed to let you marry Hans to prevent any sort of ill reputation from falling on our family. But being the kind man he is, he didn’t want to humiliate you by letting you know that he knew you were with child, so he lied and told you that this was for… what was it… ‘financial stability’.” 

You couldn’t tell if you wanted him to be silent or to spill every detail. Your head was spinning so much you swore you were about to collapse. 

“But… he wouldn’t just take you at your word. Right?”

Joseph shook his head, chuckling humorlessly. “Your handwriting is quite easy to replicate sister. A few fake letters between you and Hans, paying a few people to spread some rumors, it didn’t take much.” He paused, remembering something. “Remember how sick you got a week before your wedding?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

He ignored you again. “It was like the smell of food made you sick, and each morning you’d be hunched over a bowl. A bit suspicious, no?”

“What did you do?”

“Our staff is surprisingly easy to pay off,” he laughed. “It only took a bit of money to get the chefs to slip a little something extra into your meals.”

You gasped, recoiling from him slightly. “You… you poisoned me?”

His mouth opened and closed like he was trying to find some other explanation, but he eventually gave up. “Yes.”

So many questions bounced around your head. Why Hans? What was the extent of his part of the agreement? Why couldn’t I see the rest of our family? Why didn’t you just talk to me? 

There were so many questions, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to ask them. You were overwhelmed, betrayed, hurt, and lost. A distressed noise spilled from you, unable to be stopped, and you stumbled backward. The knife was pulled from your hand by Arthur, tucking it back into his belt before wrapping an arm around you, pressing his front against your back, steadying you.

Your chest heaved, rapid breaths leaving you, the room spinning. “Sadie, get him outta here.” His voice carried the fury of a thousand men, but you knew it wasn’t directed at you. It was never at you.

Sadie didn’t have to be told twice, understanding flashing across her face. Joseph cried out when she yanked his hair up hard, pulling him to his feet. She pushed him to the doorway, his tied-together feet tripping him with each step. “Take him to the Van Buren estate,” you muttered, focusing your last bit of composure on speaking. “He’s gonna tell them everything.”

Dread washed across Joseph’s features, and he shook his head like a petulant child. “I’m not-”

“Shut it!” Sadie smacked him across the face with her gun, drawing blood, before directing her attention to you and Arthur. “Should I wait for y’all out there, or…?”

“We’ll meet ya there.” You felt his fingers squeeze your hip. I’ve got other priorities, it said. “You’ve got him alright?”

“This puny thing?” She barked out a laugh. “I’ve got him, Arthur. I’ll see ya both there, then.” With a nod, she exited the house, dragging Joseph along behind her.

You felt Arthur speak, but you couldn’t hear him, your fast breathing and pounding heart the only thing you could. Gently, you felt him turn you so that you were facing him, hands then immediately cupping the sides of your face. His lips moved, but you couldn’t understand him, and you shook your head at him. Or maybe your entire body was shaking. You couldn’t tell. 

You hadn’t realized you were crying until you felt his thumbs brush tears away. The ringing in your ears was incessant, making your head spin even more. Your shaky hands scrabbled for purchase on Arthur’s body, fingers grasping the material of his shirt with uncontained desperation to find security. 

It was when Arthur brought your head against his that you finally heard his words. “Let it out, darlin’.”

Whatever restraint you had left snapped, a terrible wail erupting from you, barely being muffled as you buried your face into his chest. Sobs wracked your body as you slid to the floor, Arthur’s arms keeping you from collapsing completely as he followed you down. 

You’re not sure how long you sat there, crying until your body couldn’t produce any more tears, lacking the energy to continue to shake your body with sobs. But you realized it wasn’t just the events of the past hour that had upset you so deeply. No, you realized you were in mourning. 

You were mourning those past two years, years that you’d never get back. Mourning years that had been taken away from you, sacrificed in your brother’s game of greed. Years that weren’t his to have, which never had been, and never would be, yet he took them anyway. 

Eventually, you managed to lift your head enough to look at Arthur, but what you saw nearly made you break again. 

He was crying too. 

[emilsgrippers]

Today, TDI Tumblr, I’ve come to rant about Alejandro and how YOU GUYS TREAT HIM.

This is Alejandro. (And his girlfriend Heather, say hi Heather)

Alejandro is 18, allowing him to just BARELY pass as a young adult. Despite him still being so young, he is often sexualized due to his looks and personality.

This is not cool.

Most of his fans who sexualize him in this way will alter his personality to further push the typical Spanish lover stereotype onto him (I’m aware this is what he’s based on), however, he’s more than that!

He’s very intelligent, and he’s good at mostly everything. He’s not just Spanish lover who takes his shirt off and dips you while holding a rose inbetween his teeth.

In Alejandro’s lore, he has two brothers, José and Carlos. Carlos is the oldest, José is the middle child, and Alejandro is the youngest.

Little is known about Carlos, but José is well known, and Alejandro rants about him on a few occasions. He explains how José pretty much bullied him his whole life, by punching him in the arm and calling him something he hates being called ‘Al’.

Since it went on for..his whole life, and even resumed when we see José in TD:AS, it’s easy to deduct that his parents do nothing to stop this.

Now, Alejandro was always kind of the lesser brother, if that makes sense. José was always better, always more, always just overshadowing him in a humiliating manner.

So, Alejandro was taught to use his looks to get what he wanted, since, with José around, it was really all he had going for him. (That’s another part of why he doesn’t eat any junk food).

Hence why he manipulated half off the TDWT cast and then revealed himself to have sinister intents to eliminate everyone else. Of course he only wanted to win, but, do you want to guess why he wanted to win so bad?

To prove he was better than José!! Wow!! Before his tie breaker with Cody, Alejandro , in the confessional, says something about José at home seeing him tie with someone like…Cody. Alejandro says José will already have his insults ready before face palming sadly.

that’s just a quick debrief ^_^

Now! Thats everything about him really. But here’s what the fandom reduced him too

“Daddy? Sorry Daddy?” “He could get it!!” “I could take him (not in a fight)”

I’ve seen all of these commented on Alejandro posts…yikezzz…

Now, does he look good? Yeah, he does! (But Blaineley is right there) But not to the “I need to sexualize him and drawn him in lewd poses, positions and outfits!” Kind of way. Remember, he’s just 18.

(“18= adult so!!—“ he’s just 18)

And mostly everyone else just gives him the “mi amor” treatment.

He calls her ‘mi amor’ ONCE. During the world tour finale, and that makes sense considering it’s between a heartfelt confession and a make out session. He never carries her bridal style while calling her mi amor. He does do countless loving things for her, like using the immunity idol to have her eliminated!

But carrying her in his arms and calling her mi amor never happened. It never happened with..ANYONE? He holds Heather bridal style for one challenge..where she was a bride.

He would NOT call you Mi amor, guys. Maybe carry you? But he’d call you by your name. Maybe a nickname? But not Mi amor. ‘If he did it once—‘ in between a heartfelt confession and a make out session does he ever just see her and go “hi mi amor… *wink..!” NO he doesn’t

Also!! He’s not a CREEP.

I see so many people say “he probably rewinded (whatever episode Heather accidentally lost her top in) so many times 🫣” no I don’t think he did..!

That’s a double whammy! Why sexualize one (practical) minor…when you could sexualize two?!!!

Plus it’s just gross..it’s disgusting what you’re implying by saying he rewinds it all the time.

In conclusion, I’m gatekeeping him and you need to bring me a legal document proving you’ll be aloud to use him in any bit of media from now on. Using his name is now prohibited unless what it says above comes into account. Thank you

[the5thcellar]

I actually think Luke is serious about A. That age gap is typically what men marry these days. I think he's crazy about her and was taking it slow after a long term break up before going official. That shows intention, planning, and wanting her. I wouldn't be surprised the official IG couple post is coming soon.

I'm just upset that they took it this far with promo. Tom and Z were meeting each other's family outside of work early on, so to say you are officially brining him to meet the fame was a bit much. Closing your eyes when she touches your face? Grade A acting. I hate that it makes me believe he was never attracted to an amazing woman like Nicola. I feel dumb for falling for it all. I hope Nicola finds a handsome guy who will love her proudly.

that's a really interesting take tbh! ive actually never considered he was serious about her in the sense of marrying - but of course this is purely based off the vibes I get and is entirely my own view.

one of the reasons i say this is because luke doesn't seem too inclined to keep a completely friendly distance between himself and nic - i heard that the QC leads india and corey were shipped really hard by fans as well and he had a gf during the whole press run - and towards the end india and corey started posing separately on carpets (i.e. no touching, no friendly hand around shoulder even during photos etc) because they wanted to emphasise that they were really just friends.

luke in contrast seems to have no qualms about blurring lines - and one of the reasons the more rabid fans kept insulting Antonia was a direct result of the fact that he kept stating his "single" status to press. I think he could have helped Antonia avoid a lot of the flak she drew by just stating that he's seeing someone. but maybe he felt it would draw even more attention to his private life and her? idk. i don't want to puzzle over his motivations because I don't believe they are too complex - I've said this many times before and I'll keep saying it - no matter how good a man seems (and I do believe Luke is very good and sweet), trying to justify anything they do is still a sure path to disappointment.

more importantly: please don't feel dumb for falling for the hope that nic and luke could be together! i really don't think they were being deliberately disingenuous - i actually think the opposite - i think they themselves are often confused about what they really are and it's just easier to define it as being great friends. it's strange but i get the feeling that they see each other as a source of potential - it's simultaneously impossible and also the easiest thing in the world for them to envision a reality where they're together - there just seems to be many barriers to it happening for real. they're comfortable living in the liminal space between great friendship and great romantic love - it definitely explains why nic said she doesn't have a relationship in her life that's anything close to what she has with luke. I think there just needs to be a decisive push for them to ever move out of this grey area. it'll have to be something massive for it to ever happen... and it's not something I hold out hope for (again, just to avoid disappointment!)

this got really long; I wish nic and luke all the best and I think they have something very special with each other. I think life has many many stops along the way and I don't think luke has found a final stop in his romantic journey with antonia - they are both very young and they don't have the vibe of "together forever" couples - if they did (since luke is such a big believer in love at first sight) - he'd have laid down a commitment a lot sooner.

again I want to emphasise that this is all MY POV - it's the vibe I get. I'm WELL AWARE I don't know these people irl. There's always criticism of how parasocial fandom and stan behaviour are but I think most fans - myself included - are very conscious of the fact that the way we perceive and interact with celebs is completely one sided. I'm also not a psychic or clairvoyant or anything of the sort. i just strangely feel a lot of things all the time and ive never been chill a day in my life 😂

sending you lots of good feelings and healing - I feel your hurt and unease and disappointment because I feel the same, but it gets easier to accept with each day that passes.

[cokou]

—TAKE IT, TAKE IT ALL.

༄ ғᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ➢ One Piece ༄ ғᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ ➢ Law x Fem!Reader ༄ ʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ ➢ NSFW // Smut // MDNI! ༄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴅɪsᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ ➢ STEP-CEST, porn w/ plot, Law is tempted, pure smut 😿😿, concerning themes, Modern setting, no use of devil fruits, lots of swear words, creampie, missionary, shit writing, & Law thinks he's cool (he is.) ༄ ᴀ/ɴ ➢ Do not transfer my works to any other platforms // this is my only account, CROSS POSTED TO AO3 UNDER NAME OF FLAR3YY!! Also MDNI, NSFW Content ahead <3 I hope no one has done this yet Oofs :) SORRY FOR BEING OFFLINE FOR A WEEK, HERE'S FOOD FOR YOU GUYS💝💝💝

—Recently, your mother and your father had gone through a divorce. Now leaving that shitty toxic household, your mother had decided to move into your grandma until she found a way to sort out life problems.

That's what she told you, introducing a man infront of you—, whom you believe was the 'man' she had found as a replacement for your 'father'. She explained that— he had helped her through times.

Your mother had also mentioned that you would be having a step-brother. You'd been born alone with no siblings, so she'd hope that you'd adapt into the feeling of having new 'sibling' into your life.

Time to time, your mother had been attached to the man— leading to you both moving houses to your now step father. There you had been met with larger surroundings, and larger rooms. And, of course, your new sibling, Law.

The first meeting for the both of you did not go as planned, with him shunning you and walking back into his room undoubtedly. It almost felt like he didn't want to spend his time with you.

The same thing had happened more unfortunately, with him turning his back into your face when you simply look at his direction. Leaving you worried and confused if he didn't like your presence in the household at all.

You'd been enrolled to the same school as your step-brother thinking that it would ease the intimidating space between the both of you. Yet, you thought it had only gotten worser. As you walk into the long hallways, you'd catch glimpses of Law with his friends, who was wearing a hat signatured 'penguin' on it, and one wearing an almost mushroom hat with sunglasses.

Obviously they'd look like the typical people who'd play tricks with people for fun. You'd also figure out some gossips of them absolutely being assholes for fun, and if you're gonna be honest? You found it hot. Especially Law! But come on, he's literally your brother, right? Sure.

But that naturally didn't stop you from sneeking glances of him around the house whenever he's shirtless, or if he's with his friends on the living room. God you thought you were being crazy for absolutely liking your step-brother. (You are)

Even if there was a thick conflict between you two, you'd still catch him giving you those 'im gonna kill you' or 'youre fucking hot' stares. You had to keep in mind that you two never communicate at all, except for the fact where your parents forces you two to get along, which either ends up getting backfired or Law getting irritated and storming off.

However, in these following weeks, you realized that you aren't kidding anymore. You'd always think you're going overboard if you LIKED Law. Of course you'd think that! He's your fucking brother.

But boy were your feelings playing with you, it's almost as if you can't sleep without thinking of him while riding a fucking dildo. It just gets worser when his friends decides to play tricks on you at the cafeteria when you're doing your own business!

You started to take shits into your hands, you think you'd solve the problem IF you get him to fucking like you too. Which, you came into the conclusion to fucking tease the shit outta him. Bending over to pick something simply infront of him, or the way your tongue licks the ice pop just right and taking it all in your mouth, or the way you absolutely wear skimpy clothing when you're with Law.

And for fucks sake it wasn't in vain, you catched him sneeking the most lustfull looks on you, it almost felt like he was undressing you with that intense stare of his, the way his eyes drill holes into your body as if you killed everyone around him. God, it felt so hot.

—Saturday morning, 11:56 AM.

It felt just like any ordinary day, waking up, eating, doing your chores, and could never go wrong with teasing Law. You decided that you'd wear the shortest mini skirt up on your closet with a pair of tights that you'd never thought you would wear, along with a top that barely held your tits from spilling out.

You two were left with an incredible amount of chores as your parents left for some vacation that for some reason didn't involve the two of you. You were dusting the upper bookshelf as the dusts flew over to your face making you sneeze. Just as you thought you got the hang of it, you felt a sharp slap up on your ass, you looked down and saw Law with the most shit eating grin ever.

"What do you think are you doing?! I could've fell!" You raised your voice at him as you felt your legs tremble from what just happened.

"Andd, I would've catched you anyway. Come down here." You've never heard his voice directly, so it took you by surprise as he spoke to you like you to weren't avoiding each other.

"The fuck got into you wearing that kinda clothes in here— ya?" His voice almost sounded serious with a hint of a teasing manner.

"So? I can't wear what i want now?" You pointed your index finger at him as you stepped back down from the ladder. You finally got the attention you'd been seeking for.

"What you wanted-, or wanted my attention— ya? Ya' think I haven't noticed, hm?" He looked at you with gnawing smirk on his face.

"Listen here, don't think I wear these for you! Who do you think you a—" He cutted you off with a sudden kiss as you felt your whole body melting into his touch,

"You want it don't you?" That simple question had gotten you nuts and you froze on the spot, you couldn't answer, nor even blink.

Fuck you'd been waiting for this, and now that you got it, it felt so fucking wrong snd incomplete. Had you just got yourself in big trouble? But for no reason at all it ate your mind, knowing this was all wrong, you couldn't bear it,

"yes." It finally escaped from your mouth.

"So I wasn't going the only one going crazy when you bent yourself infront of me like that, (Name)-Ya?" the way he said your name was stuck and eating your brain like the ameba everyone was worried about.

"Fuck, let's just get this shit done." You were looking down in disappointment that it had eaten you and made you say that. You truly felt embarrassed, but all that embarrassment— he found it cute.

He grabbed you, storming into his bedroom then throwing you into his bed. He climbed on top of you and started kissing you heavily, as in drool dripping from the corner of your mouth as it turned sloppy, the way hid tongue wrestled with yours, it was messy. And you loved it like that.

He worked his hands onto your tits, lifting the hem of your shirt just enough for your tits to be exposed to him, he detached himself from your lips onto your tits, sucking the nipples and pinching them. It made you spill out groans and sighs as he worked his tongue on your nipple buds.

His tattooed hands travelling your body, down to your hips as he throw your clothes onto the floor shamelessly.

"Admit it, you wanted this didn't ya?" He stopped midway for an answer.

"Yes," you whined.

"Yes what?"

"..Yes, i wanted this." You just wanna disappear right now.

He grinned, continuing his hands from travelling your body, he stops, then undoes his pants, you peeked over to see his bulge, and holy shit, you could tell it was huge.

He tossed his pants on the floor, his cock springing out, and damn you were right. It was huge. Law took your legs and placed it onto his shoulders.

"Wait— this feels wrong.." You stopped him in his tracks, making him look at you.

"I hope you didn't only realize now, ya— want me to stop or?" He seemed calm about this even happening.

"..i didn't say i want you to stop .." why do you do this to yourself? Because you love it yeah <3

"I'm sure it won't be that wrong if no one finds out, ya." With that he continued, spreading your legs over at his shoulders, making you squirm.

He started caressing your thighs, then rests his hands onto your core, playing with your clothed pussy. You gave out a shocked gasp,— then he balls his hands into a fist, ripping your tights.

You absolutely cannot believe you two are doing this, but absolutely loving it at the same time.

He pushes your panties to the side and attacking your clit with his mouth, making you moan. He continues sucking your clit, then lapping his tongue on your hole, he brought his digits to work and started to finger your pussy as he continuesly plays with your clit on his tongue.

Holy shit it feels so good, you felt yourself on the edge with your eyes rolling at the back of your skull and your chest heaving up and down from the ecstasy.

Just as you were about to come, he stopped.

"W-whyd you stop?" You looked at him with your tears threatening to spill.

"Because that wouldnt be too fun if you finish quickly." He detached his mouth from your clit, he gives his cock a few strokes and lines it up at your entrance.

"You still want this, ya?"

"Y-yes" shit at this point you felt yourself going crazy.

He gave you another gnawing smirk as he sharply enters your pussy, making you yelp and arch your back from the sudden stretch.

"Take it all, yeah? You wanted this you said—"

He gave you time to adjust, then slowly thrusts into you at a steady pace. You felt yourself burning at the feeling of him stretching you, basically tearing your insides apart.

He adjusts the pace into a faster one, earning wanton moans from you, you latched your arms onto his neck as you felt him go even faster, absolutely destroying you. You felt like an animal as moans and skin slapping filled the room.

You hadn't expected that he would guve in into your teasing, but hrll do you enjoy every bit of time he gave you. His thrusts now, becoming sloppy, he warns you that he's cumming soon. Him having a shit pull out game, he came deep inside you, you follow with your orgasm not too long later.

"Fuck— why'd you do that—" you panted as you felt his cum deep inside you.

"You'll love it either way—" He was cut off by the sound of the door opening, your parents were home. And you two were still messy on his bed.

"Shit, lets clean up or we're getting in trouble, i had fun with ya', (Name)-Ya." He carries you onto the bathroom.

—You two started talking more then, not too direct, not too shabby. It still felt wrong though.

©cokou 2024, all works belong to me.

[teapartyprincess4two]

Y/n and Matt get closer when it's just them 2 in the house, and i was thinking Fluff and Smut like a lot of Smut. Maybe Matt is a virgin but Y/n aint so she teaches him???

End of the World- M. Sturniolo

pairing: fem!reader x Matt

classification: Zombie Apocalypse AU, smut, fluff, angst/sad (kinda? Idk it’s a mix of everything)

inspiration: request^^

warnings: 18+, MDNI, set in modern day, use of y/n, literal sex, slight cursing, zombies & general apocalypse stuff (death, lnives, guns, killing, blood, hunger, dehydration, etc.), kinda long

summary: No one deserves to die a virgin, not even at the end of the world.

—

If anyone would’ve told you two years ago that you’d be huddled around the hood of a car, staring down at a worn out map, covered in blood, you would’ve called them crazy.

Two years ago your life was convenient. Now? Now life was simple, all you had to do was survive. All the things you wished would disappear; homework, bills, work, none of them mattered anymore. But they were easily replaced with an even greater burden, a zombie apocalypse and the end of the world.

Two years ago you wouldn’t have had even a spec of dirt under your fingernails, yet here you stand covered in blood that isn’t yours, weeks worth of dirt and grime, and sweat dripping down your forehead. Your hair is pulled back into a ponytail, exposing your shoulders to the harsh Texas heat and further working towards dehydrating you.

Two years ago you wouldn’t so much as hurt a fly. Now you wouldn’t think twice before pulling the trigger if it meant you had a chance at survival.

Two years ago you didn’t have to worry about where your next meal was coming from or if your bedroom was secure enough to sleep in. But the world has changed and so have you.

It’s been months since anyone in your group has had a good nights rest or a warm meal. All you’ve done is run from anything that threatens to harm you. Although you’ve all managed to set up a temporary moderately safe camp within the woods, it’s been difficult to stretch resources that are already scarce.

Food, water, clothing. These are all things that you wish you didn’t need. Why? Because leaving camp to retrieve them is dangerous. But, it’s been 2 days since your last run, and canned goods can only last so long, especially when there’s mouths to feed.

Chris uses his knife to point to an unmarked location on the map, “Nick and I will head south. I saw an old water tower in that direction when we passed through, maybe there’s a town nearby.” He uses the back of his arm to wipe the sweat from his forehead before returning it back to the map, tracing the blade up a road.

“Matt and Y/n, you two try looking in this area. We haven’t checked there yet and if we’re lucky it hasn’t been completely ransacked. You might find something…” Chris pauses, taking a look at the group of people not far behind. They’re chatting, all of them wearing exhausted expression and filthy clothes. “…something to get the group through the next couple of days. We can’t stay here anymore, place is crawling with infected.”

Chris became the leader of your group easily. He had a great way of talking to people, of showing them that even though the world was ending, the glass was still half full.

“You want us to split up?” Nick whisper shouts, a clear alarm evident in his tone. “Remember what happened last time? We lost a third of the group!” Nick flails his arms in desperation, almost like he’s willing Chris to realize the stupidity of his actions.

Nick was reasonable and smart, but too kind for his own good. If he wanted to, he could’ve become the leader of your group and done just as good of a job as Chris, but Nick was too empathic to take on that responsibility. He felt the needs of the group and often was led more by emotion than by reason or logic.

“You think I don’t know that?!” Chris bites back.

You stand next to Matt, watching the argument unfold. This was typical for Nick and Chris, but it stressed you out every time.

“If we had more people, we wouldn’t have to split up. But we’re low on supplies and can’t wait around for food to magically appear,” Chris says.

“If we hadn’t split up the first time, we’d have more people,” Nick snarks, storming away. Chris groans, running his hand through his hair. This was much more responsibility than he could handle, but as the youngest, strongest members of your group it was up to you all to pull the heaviest weight.

“We’ll be fine. Y/n and I are always careful,” Matt finally chimes in, placing a firm hand on Chris’s shoulder to ease any tension. “Besides, that part of town is pretty deep into the woods. I doubt any infected will be lurking and if they are, Y/n’s good with a gun and I’m fast.”

“I’m fast too,” you chuckle, knowing that Matt is trying to make light of a dark situation.

“True. I just gotta be faster,” he replies, sending you a cheeky wink. You laugh, earning a small round of laughter from Chris and Matt in return.

Chris visibly relaxes, grateful that at least one of his brothers isn’t giving him a hard time. But truth be told, Matt didn’t agree with Chris’s plan, he was just smart enough to keep it to himself. He knew that doubt created fear, and once fear infected you, you were as good as dead.

That’s what Matt was good at, being quiet. It came in handy on runs like this, especially because he was so quick on his feet. It’s your favorite characteristic of his, he’s a good listener, he’s observant, and you know that you’ll be safe as long as Matt is with you.

“Alright. Let’s head out, we’re gonna lose the light,” Chris instructs, jogging in the opposite direction of the camp to begin loading up a few trucks with guns and ammo.

“You two can take the car.”

Matt mulls the idea over. A car would be faster, but definitely much louder. Noise attracts anything looking for its next meal, especially the infected, and with only you to cover him he’s not sure he’s willing to take that risk.

“Nah. We’re walking. The town’s not too far, we’ll make it back by tomorrow morning the latest,” Matt replies, tossing a rifle in your direction. You’re quick to catch it and just as quick to respond, “Are you sure? A car would get us there and back before dinner.”

He understands your concern, but he can’t risk losing you, not after all the losses he’s already suffered. “Just trust me,” he murmurs, the look in his eyes being enough to calm your nerves.

“Whatever you have to do, Matt. Just come back,” Chris says, slamming the trunk shut.

—

Leaves and dry grass crunch under your feet with every step. It’s late summer and the Texas heat has managed to kill everything left alive that wasn’t infected.

You’ve been walking for two hours, only running into a few infected on the way, managing to take them out with nothing but your blade. Matt hates using guns, in fact you’ve only seen him use them on very rare and necessary occasions. You never understood his apprehension, I mean it’s the end of the world for Christ’s sake, but you’ve never questioned him.

“Heads up,” Matt whispers, nodding his head in the direction of a gas station.

You follow his gaze. It seemed like an easy place to loot. Apart from the few rotted corpses that roamed the exterior, only parked cars litter the parking lot, most of them still connected to the gas pumps.

“We’ll go in through the back. There’s got to be dry storage there,” Matt says, crouching and leading you towards the back of the building. You hum in response, readying yourself with your weapon and following closely behind.

Your scent must carry because as soon as you’re within 10 feet of the infected, their attention is drawn to you. Their arms are limp at their sides and their walk is more of a stagger, but it always manages to get your blood pumping.

“Hurry!” Matt whisper shouts, reaching behind him for your hand. Soon he’s pulling you into the building, shutting it securely behind you and bringing his pointer finger up to his lips to instruct you to keep quiet.

“I’ll go left. You go right,” you mouth, beginning to walk the aisles of the store while ensuring to keep your back to the wall. Matt nods, perusing the aisles as best he can while his life is in immediate danger.

Infected bite and claw at the glass windows, snarling as they watch you and Matt like prey. Sometimes you wondered what their life was like before they were bit, but the second one is close enough to harm you, all sympathy leaves and you don’t think twice before unloading the clip.

When you’re sure the building is secure you put your knife away and grab a shopping basket, securing it in the pit of your elbow as you load it with as many supplies as you can. Chips, jerky, candy, canned food, oil, rags, water, any and everything you two can carry is being thrown into these baskets.

“How are gonna get all of this back?” You ask Matt, noticing the even greater pile he’s accumulated. He scratches his head, taking a look around for something that’ll help lighten the load.

From the corner of his eye he spots a few duffel bags. Matt grabs a few and motions for you to begin packing them with as much as possible. “If they get too heavy I’ll carry them.”

“Bet you wish we had a car now,” you chuckle, neatly organizing the duffel bags.

“Not when those things are staring back at me,” Matt says, shuddering as he looks behind his shoulder to see the group of infected that have pooled at the entrance of the building.

—

You’re carrying two duffel bags full of supplies, one weighing on either one of your shoulders. Matt’s holding three, two rest on his shoulders and he’s carrying the other in his hand. He holds the straps so tight that his knuckles have managed to turn white.

The both of you are exhausted from the strength you’re using to carry this supplies back to your camp, from the long trek up-hill, and the energy you exerted to take out at least a dozen infected.

You stumble on a rock, the weight on your shoulders making it difficult for you to fix your footing. “Hey, you okay?” Matt asks, examining you with his eyes.

“I’m fine. Just tired,” you wheeze, hunching over and supporting yourself with your hands on your knees.

Matt’s tired too, of course he is, but it’s not like you two can set up camp in the middle of nowhere while surrounded by infected. He remembers seeing a few houses further up the road, it’s not a long walk and if you can make it, you’ll be able to rest there until morning.

“C’mon I think I saw a neighborhood, just push through a little longer. We’ll rest there for tonight and pick back up in the morning, okay?”

He waits for you to catch your breath, rubbing your back and comforting you, but never once letting his guard down in case something gets a jump on him.

You take a deep breath, straightening up and adjusting the duffel bag’s straps on your shoulders.

“Okay.”

—

The walk to the neighborhood was much longer than you thought, and you were starting to wonder if you were lost.

“Are you sure this is the right way?”

Matt looks at you from behind his shoulder, subtly rolling his eyes before averting his gaze forward again. “You wanna lead the way, princess?”

The nickname makes you chuckle, mostly because you knew Matt used it when his mood was starting to sour and that only ever happened when he was hungry or tired. By the looks of it, he was starting to become both.

A small town comes into view just as you’re about to reply. It looks like you’ve stumbled across the Main Street, and as packed as it is with abandoned businesses and stores, a residential home is nowhere to be seen. “Didn’t I tell you I saw a town,” Matt snarks, a hint of sass laced in his tone.

You hum. “No. You said you saw a neighborhood. There isn’t a house anywhere to be seen. We might as well season ourselves for the damn infected to eat.”

A twig snaps in the distance. Your voices, although relatively quiet, have already worked towards alerting the undead of your presence.

“Shut up,” Matt grits, pulling you close to his body. You know better than to argue, instead pressing your back against his and unsheathing your knife.

Snarling and growling echoes through the town, bouncing off the buildings and making it difficult for you to pinpoint exactly what direction they’re coming from. That doesn’t stop Matt though, instead he uses the hand that isn’t holding a knife to grab your arm.

“Stay close,” he mouths, so inaudible that you almost don’t catch it. You nod your head, taking a fleeting look at your surroundings before following Matt through a back alley between a cafe and a gym (or what used to be a cafe and a gym).

The alley is a dead end, fenced off at the end with nothing but hungry zombies reaching through the metal rods in attempt to grab you. The old you would’ve screamed and cried for help, but you’ve learned to suppress your fear in order to survive.

You take a firm hold of your knife, stabbing it into the head of as many infected as you can. Quiet grunts emit from you and Matt as you clear the path, watching undead body after body hit the ground. For a second you feel sad, but only for a second. You don’t have time for trivial things such as emotions anymore, especially not when a trail of flesh eating monsters follows closely behind.

“Through here. C’mon,” Matt ushers, opening a door that leads into a gym. Although it’s safer than being stranded outside, the brick walls can only protect you for so long. You do a quick sweep of the room, looking for anything useful while also ensuring there aren’t any hidden surprises.

Once you’re sure it’s safe, you motion for Matt to follow you with a head tilt. He locks the door behind him, barricading it with an old elliptical before following you into the next room.

You enter a changing room, lined with showers and lockers that were sure to have at least one fresh pair of clothes. You set the heavy bags you’ve been carrying down, sighing with relief as you stretch your shoulders. Matt does the same, joining you in rummaging through the lockers for a new, clean shirt.

A lot of the clothes is tucked away in backpacks, most of it being unflattering male clothing, but you weren’t big on fashion nowadays. “Here. Found this for you,” Matt says, tossing a white tank top your way. You hold it up in the light, “Cute. Thanks.”

You’re about to change your shirt, without any real warning for Matt, so he quickly looks away and fixes his gaze on the shower heads and tiled walls. His hands fiddled with an unopened bar of soap he found in one of the lockers. Matt doesn’t know why he grabbed it, it’s not like he had access to running water, but a man could dream.

“I wonder if the showers work,” he thinks out loud.

You stand behind him, wearing only your bra and underwear as you wonder the same thing. God knows you could both use a shower right now. “Hmm,” you hum, tilting your head in wonder.

“Only one way to find out,” you shrug, pushing past Matt and sauntering over to the knob. You twist it quickly, patiently waiting for even a single drop of water.

Nothing, just groaning pipes and a slap in the face for naivety.

“Guess they don’t,” you say, standing under the shower head and looking at Matt with a sad smile. He chuckles, and just as he’s about to give up too, cold water spurts out abruptly, hitting the back of your head and running down your spine.

“Holy shit that’s hot!” You gasp. In all the excitement, Matt forgets how inappropriate it would be to join you in the shower under regular circumstances, and throws his clothes off. You’ve somehow already managed to remove your remaining clothing and have started scrubbing at your skin with your bare hands, letting the water run down your face.

“Matt! Hurry before it runs out!” You say, waving your hand behind you blindly. He doesn’t skip a beat, joining you under the shower head and letting it relax his sore, aching muscles. The water draws an audible groan from his lips, bringing you back to reality. You were naked and taking a shower with Matt, someone who was a stranger to you before the end of the world.

Suddenly, he remembers the bar of soap still in his hands and he accidentally takes in your naked figure as he opens it. His dick immediately rises, a clear indicator that he’s enjoying the view.

“Turn around,” he instructs, running the soap under the water and lathering his hands up. You do as your told, immediately feeling his fingers tangle themselves in your hair as he massages your scalp. It wasn’t necessarily an in depth hair wash routine, but it would suffice for now.

Soon, you’re turning around and rinsing the soap from your hair before reaching for the bar and instructing Matt to do the same.

“Here lemme get you now.” You shuffle behind him, tip toeing to reach better. Although it was odd and unexpected, you were glad to be sharing this moment with Matt.

The rest of the shower is silent as you and Matt bask in the warm water that runs down your bruised and battered bodies. You try keeping your limbs to yourselves, save for the brief moments Matt’s erect member brushes against your thigh or butt, but it’s hard when there’s only one shower head. You want to say something, mostly because you’ve had a crush on Matt from the moment you met him and his group, but you don’t. This isn’t about pleasure, not in this world at least. It’s about survival and the second you forget that, you get hurt.

“Haven’t felt that clean in years,” Matt chuckles, shoving a shirt over his head. The shower seems to have brought his spirits up, providing both of you with a new surge of energy. Little things like running water meant so much more now, especially when you’re trudging through highly forested areas and fighting for you life on the daily.

As you’re about to reply, a loud bang echoes through the locker room, followed by the sound of shuffling in your direction. You’re putting your pants on, buckling them quickly as you try to keep quiet. Your eyes are wide in fear and anticipation, watching Matt for a signal on what to do next.

He doesn’t say anything, instead grabbing the duffel bags from before and darting his eyes towards the exit. Your gun, which you hadn’t used at all today, rests in your hand. Matt holds his as well. He’s on guard, raising the weapon close to his face as he inspects the area.

You follow behind him trying to keep as quiet as possible, fully expecting him to shoot whatever lurks behind the wall. But, as you near the exit, you see it.

Tense shoulders relax, lowering your weapon and sheathing it back into your belt. A squirrel sits on the cement floor, grooming itself and chittering away. You want to approach it, maybe even pet it, but Matt stops you with a hand to your chest.

Unlike you, he’d inspected the entirety of the situation and didn’t let himself become distracted by the first cute animal that crossed his path. After recognizing that it was a squirrel, he wondered what could’ve lead it into the building in the first place, causing him to check the window it entered through. A reanimated corpse stood right outside the window, dragging its feet as it paced back and forth in search of the fluffy animal.

“Let’s go. We’re done here,” Matt ordered, pulling you back towards the exit. And just like that, you were off to find somewhere to sleep, leaving the fluffy animal to fend for itself.

“Bye little guy.”

—

“Forgot how quiet and boring the world is,” you huff, slumping down onto the worn out mattress. Whatever energy the shower provided you was now long gone. You and Matt walked for another hour before finding the initial neighborhood you were searching for. And, after that, you spent another hour finding the perfect house and clearing all its rooms.

“Quiet’s nice,” Matt replies with a soft groan, joining you on the mattress. It sinks with his weight, the coils creaking as he becomes comfortable.

“You’re just saying that cause you want me to shut up so you can fall asleep.” You kick your shoes off and unbuckle your belt, letting it fall to floor with a soft thud. A smile tugs at Matt’s lips. “Right now yes. But in general, quiet’s good. Means we’re safe,” he replies, toeing his own shoes off.

Matt shuts his eyes, fluffing the pillow under his head and willing himself to finally get a full nights rest. This house is safe. He secured all the rooms, barricaded the doors, and his weapon is on standby. He can finally rest and relax. But, of course, your mind begins to wander and when your mind wanders, your words follow. “Guess you’re right… But quiet also means you’re not learning anything about the people you care about.”

A deep breath causes Matt’s chest to rise and fall. He doesn’t understand why you’re trying to be all philosophical at the end of the world. Nonetheless, he responds, “I know you, Y/n. I know you’re strong, I know you’re a kind person, and I know you have my back. I also know you’re annoying, but I trust you and I learned all that from watching. Sometimes you just have to watch people. In quiet. Can we sleep now?” He turns onto his side facing away from you in hopes that you’ll drop the topic and fall asleep.

You stare at his back. “Those are all things you learned about me now. I was nothing like this back then.”

Matt takes another deep breath. It’s obvious you’re in the mood to talk, maybe because you finally feel safe enough to keep your voice anything above a whisper, so he decides just to give in and turn your monologue into actual dialogue.

“Back then?” He asks. Matt shuffles on the mattress, now staring at the ceiling as your eyes remain on him. “Yeah, before everything went to shit. Before the end of the stupid fucking world when the little things used to matter. You know, like first kisses and picking the perfect outfit for a date with a cute guy.”

Matt picks at his fingernails, listening to every word that escapes your lips. When you put it that way, he really didn’t know anything about you. “Okay, so tell me about yourself then. Pretend like we’re not in a strangers house, in a strangers room, on a strangers bed, and tell me all about Y/n… Before the ‘end of the stupid fucking world.’”

You chuckle, preparing yourself for the vulnerability you’re about to put on full display, but now that he’s put you on the spot it’s much harder than you thought.

“Okay so… you already know my name. Hmm. My favorite color is pink?”

Matt scoffs. “That’s the real you? C’mon, you can’t go on this whole tangent about how you were different before and then say THAT.”

“Fine fine.” You think for a second. “I was a waitress at a hotel bar. Mixing drinks was easy, the customers were nice, my coworkers made the job tolerable. Mostly only worked weekends because I was at school during the week… I went to UCLA. Go Bruins!,” you let out a breathy laugh, “My siblings were going to visit me that weekend, the weekend it all happened. They had planned the trip for a long time and finally were gonna make the drive.”

Your mind goes to a dark place, the only thing anchoring you being the hand that Matt places on yours. You clear your throat before continuing, “I had a small off campus apartment. Cleared the living room out and everything for them. Even deep cleaned.” Matt squeezes your hand.

“College was fun while it lasted. My parents worked really hard to send me off. They threw me a going away party and everything, even dressed up my dog as the school mascot,” a small pause as you recollect your thoughts, “I had a puppy named Pig. Well he wasn’t a puppy, more like an old fart, but the name suited him. Named him after my favorite animal and because he had the pinkest nose when he first adopted him.”

You feel yourself becoming increasingly sad as you reminisce on what once was. “You know what? Maybe quiet is nice,” you laugh solemnly, wiping the tears that are rolling down your face.

Matt offers you a warm smile, thinking of something, anything, to get you to smile again. But he can’t help it, he’s curious, and since you’re already on the topic he wants to pry further into your personal life. “What were you going to school for?”

“Engineering. I’m shit with numbers, but I was pretty undecided so my parents just chose for me. Brandon would help me a lot. He was really smart… really sweet… But enough about me, tell me about you. Who was Matt before all this?”

Matt ignores your question, instead posing one of his own. “Who’s Brandon? Was he your boyfriend?” He cringes slightly, both at his boldness and at his lack of awareness of your vulernable, emotional state, but his curiosity keeps getting the best of him.

You snort. “Brandon? God no. He was my best friend, sure, but I was definitely not his type. Plus, I never had time for anything serious. I made time for the fun stuff, but never the commitment.” Matt couldn’t hide the relief on his face even he tried. A relationship status meant nothing during a zombie apocalypse, yet he found himself relieved to know that your heart didn’t belong to another.

“I’m sure you had girls swarming you,” you continue jokingly, poking Matt’s sides with a teasing edge. He makes a noise, something between a groan and chuckle as he runs his hands down his face.

“I take that as a yes?”

He hums, remembering the short lived internet fame he shared with his triplet brothers before shit hit the fan. “Some would say that. If you consider subscribers and followers as swarming girls.”

You visibly cringe, “Oh God. Were you one of those thirst trappers? Bet you went to influencer parties and vlogged your morning routine.” Matt laughs loudly, a genuine laugh, one of the few you’ve heard from him since you met.

“Rent was due, okay?” He replies between laughter. Soon you’re both laughing, bodies clumsily bumping as you clutch your stomach and wipe away tears. Your bodies are impossibly close, closer than they should be on a queen sized mattress, and you only notice it once your laughter dies down.

Your eyes have locked with his and your noses even manage to graze. Neither of you make an effort to look away or even to apologize for invading the other’s space. Instead, you do the unthinkable, the one thing you didn’t allow yourself to even think about doing even when he was naked in front of you earlier. You kiss him. You lean forward and close the gap, moulding your lips onto his.

Matt doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate the kiss. His hands find a comfortable resting place on your upper thigh and lower back, using the little energy left in his body to pull you closer. One of your hands lays on his chest while the other gently weaves its way through his hair.

The kiss is sweet and innocent, and it could’ve been over by now, but because you’re both so touch starved you separate for air and dive right back in. You moan against his lips, caressing the side of his face your thumb before moving so you’re cradling his waist. Subconsciously, as if on instinct, you grind down onto him, wanting to feel and explore him further.

Matt wants to go further, and he knows you know it too, especially with the display he put on earlier in the shower, but he’s a virgin who’s afraid to disappoint. So, he pulls away from the kiss and holds your hips in place with strong hands.

“I— Give me a second,” he murmurs, squeezing his eyes shut and gulping so hard his adam’s apple bobs up and down. Matt’s mind is racing, every possible outcome for this situation playing through his mind.

You sense his apprehension, plus it’s written all over his face. You never want to push his boundaries or make him uncomfortable. So, you do the only thing you can think to do. Quickly, you shuffle off of him and off the bed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I just thought— today in the shower— I’ll sleep downstairs on the couch.”

You begin to gather your things, leaving Matt dumbstruck as he stares between you and his raging erection. If he didn’t speak up now, you were going to get the wrong idea and he’d miss his chance at a shot with you. Your face is red hot with embarrassment.

“Wait.” He reaches out and grabs your hand, gently pulling you back down onto the mattress.

Matt prepares himself for the vulnerability he’s about to display. He’s nervous, embarrassed, scared, and to top it off you’re the hottest girl he’s ever seen. And it’s not just because you’re the only one left either.

“I’m a virgin.”

Your eyes blow open in shock. “But earlier you said about the? I just thought?” He laughs at your inability to form a coherent sentence, but he gets the gist.

“It was hard to trust people when I was famous, especially girls. I never knew if they truly liked me or just wanted to have my name associated with them for the clout. But it’s different now, I know I can trust you. We took a shower together without making it weird after scavenging through old worn out clothes to find something slightly newer than what we had. You’re covered in the blood of monsters we killed to keep each other safe. You’re here with me when I have nothing permanent or safe to offer.” Matt pulls you back onto his lap, sitting up against the bed frame so your torsos are parallel.

“I should’ve said this a long time ago, but it’s hard to find the time when you’re fighting for your life on the daily… I care about you, Y/n. A lot. I’m not sure what to call it yet, but I care about you and I trust you. I trust you enough to do this.” You’re touched by his words, feeling their effect on your heartstrings and your throbbing core.

“I trust you too, Matt. So much more than you’ll ever know.” In that moment those words felt more real than an ‘i love you’ ever could. Matt leans forwards and kisses you, holding you by the neck. This kiss is different than the one from before, it’s needier and laced with lust.

His hands travel towards your tank top, tugging until he successfully untucks the fabric. You pull away from the kiss and lift your arms, allowing Matt to remove your shirt in one swift motion. The smile on his face as you slowly begin roaming your hands all over his body is genuine, filled with admiration, love and lust.

Your fingers beginning slipping his flannel over his shoulders, your mouth falling down to his broad shoulders to pepper kisses on the skin there. Soon, you’re both removing the rest of your clothes and Matt’s excitement has him flipping you over on the old, worn mattress. He gawks at the sight beneath him. You lay there completely exposed with only the soft moonlight that trickles in through the blinds to illuminate your body. Matt takes it all in, relishing in your beauty like it’s the last time, because in this world it very well might be.

A gentle hand trails from his stomach down to his penis, tracing the outside of his cock and watching intently at the way Matt’s eyes screw shut in concentration. It’s been so long since he’s touched himself and the sight of you alone is enough for him to combust, but he pulls himself together. You trace your thumb over the slit, coating his member with the natural lubrication that’s already spilling out before dragging his cock along your folds. Matt’s breath hitches at the new sensation, you already feel so warm and soft, he doesn’t know how he’s meant to last even one second once he’s actually inside you.

“We can stop if you want to.” Matt gulps, shaking his head feverishly. He doesn’t want this to stop, he’d never want this to stop, even if it hasn’t even really started yet. “No,” his voice is choked, “don’t stop.”

Your lip is caught between your teeth as you continue to guide the tip to your entrance, finally unwrapping your fingers from around him and instead wrapping your legs around his waist. Finally, Matt moves, sinking his cock into you slowly until he’s completely bottomed out. The initial feeling is euphoric, so euphoric in fact that his arms wobble as he tried to keep himself from collapsing on you. You love seeing him like this. A strong man who’d do anything to protect you, so weak and vulnerable from your touch.

His head finds the place where your neck and shoulder meet, forehead resting in the divot there as he slowly begins thrusting. Soft grunts and groans brush against your skin, sending shivers up your spine. Praises fall from your own lips as his tip continues to kiss your cervix, egging him further in helping you reach your climax. But tonight was about him, as long as the man on top of you convulsed with pleasure you’d be happy.

Matt’s hips snap against yours, picking up the pace as he chases his orgasm. It’s so close, right on the edge, and from the way he sounds and feels you’re close too. “Keep going, Matt. Don’t stop,” you moan, pulling him in closer with your legs around his waist. Matt whimpers your name, sucking and biting on the skin of your neck harder with each passing thrust.

“I’m gonna cum,” he grunts, words choppy and interrupted by pants and moans. All you can do is whimper in return, snaking a hand between your bodies to rub your clit. As soon as your fingers touch the sensitive bundle of nerves, your body goes into overdrive. Your legs are shaking, pussy fluttering around his cock as you grip his shoulders and moaning his name. The feeling of your walls pushing and pulling around him, mixed with the way you chant his name, pushes Matt over the edge. His hips tremble slightly as he spills his load inside of you, unable to pull out before the wave of pleasure washed over his body.

Your bodies remain intertwined for a while, both of you trying to catch your breath. Matt reluctantly pulls out of you, relishing in the way your body chases after him. The mattress dips as he slumps into the spot next to you.

“Thank you.”

You turn to face Matt, a confused look on your face. You’re not sure where this will lead your relationship, but you never expected a thank you after sex, nor had you ever received one.

“Thank you?” You chuckle, curious to where the conversation was heading.

He hums. “Yeah, for not letting me die a virgin.” You can’t help the snort that follows.

“Well in that case, I guess you’re welcome. No one deserves to die a virgin, not even at the end of the world.”

Matt smiles again, a sight you’ll never grow tired of. He leans in for a kiss, pulling you close and keeping you there. The kiss is sloppy, mostly because you’re both exhausted from the days events, but neither of you dare pull away. You don’t know what tomorrow will bring or if there will even be a tomorrow, all you know is that this moment right here is real and you’d like to enjoy it for as long as possible.

“Get some rest, we have a long trip tomorrow.”

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

Thank you so much for this request my sweet anon. I’m currently rewatching (binging) TWD and needed to get some zombie apocalypse type story out of my system, so I hope you don’t mind that I used that idea on your request. Also, I know you requested for the reader to teach Matt and I didn’t include really any of that here. I focused on the whole Virgin!Matt aspect of it all. Hope you all enjoy, sorry for not writing a lot later :P I’m deep in the trenches of Daryl Dixon fanfiction right now so if u need me, that’s where you’ll find me (if u can’t already tell by my reblogs lolol)

luv u all xxx

- L.A.M.B 💗👼🏻

—

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[highvern]

Casual

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader

Genre: angst, fluff, suggestive

warnings:  toxic relationship dynamics, alcohol consumption, avoidant attachment, hoshi cries, sex but nothing graphic

Length: ~ 3.8k

Note: the ending is inspired by this post. happy bday to my boo, legally its still your bday in california. sorry i made you cry. thank u @wonustars for sitting through the dumpster fire this was

series m.list: Houdini [s], Green Light [s, f], YUCK [f], Talk [a, f, s]

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

In the past few weeks, something has been different between you and your fuck buddy.

He’s always been relatively excitable, thrilled by life and happy to be wherever you are. But there’s more smiling,  more touching, and more moments that feel like maybe you’re in a relationship you didn’t sign up for because now every time you see him it doesn’t automatically devolve into humping each other until your eyes cross and limbs go numb. 

Tonight is a prime example.

You happen to end up at the same bar (after he told you where he’d be with the optimism you’d show up, because you typically do). It’s early in the night, when pretending not to realize the other is just a few feet away on the opposite side of the room is still appropriate. Or you pretend while Soonyoung not so subtly follows your every move for the right moment to approach. 

You like to act as if it's a coincidence you’d even show up in the first place and that you aren’t wrapped around his finger. Soonyoung, ever indulgent, lets you. He realized after repeated brush-offs that you have to come to him. And you will in your own time; like a cat that will let you look but not touch until it decides to. Make that decision too soon and he’ll end up covered in scratches and alone. 

Your friends aren’t dumb to the charade. They know how you and Soonyoung work despite how overly complex you make it. They don’t push to ask questions, preferring to silently observe the back and forth when you two happen to be in public. Like they’re watching a nature documentary. Maybe they think they’re being subtle when they point out he’s sitting a few tables away or how they spotted him on the way back from the restroom with invisible question marks over their heads blaring ‘so what are you guys?’ 

There isn’t an answer. You and Soonyoung fuck. Sometimes you don’t; like when you were sick or when it's two in the morning and he swears he sleeps better when you’re there. Occasionally, when you feel extra generous, you let him take you out in public and hold your hand. Other times you pretend not to know he’s got his eyes on you from the moment you arrive at a party and go home alone with a handful of missed calls.

It’s…complicated.

So you sit at a table tucked in the corner and stir at the diluted contents of your drink while pointedly avoiding looking to your left where you know a pair of eager brown eyes are waiting to greet you.

“How long do we have to sit here until you go and talk to your lover boy?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You dismiss the very thought that anyone else is privy to the imaginary game of chess you’re playing against no one but yourself.

“Oh, really?” Lily snorts. “Because he’s been moony-eyed for the past twenty minutes and—”

“Shut up,” you snarl. 

You're under the microscope and there's nowhere to hide. Not at this table at least.

“Would it be so bad if you guys just dated? He likes you and you obviously—”

The end of that sentence rattles in your brain even as you stomp away, parting the crowd loitering at the ball. You scold the moments of weakness that make it obvious. 

It takes all your patience not to bodycheck the people stumbling in your way. Everyone’s packed in tight like sardines, at the mercy of the tide of bodies flowing to and fro. A brief part in the sea gets you to the counter. You barely take a breath before a familiar presence hovers at your shoulder.

“Come here often?” Soonyoung calls in your ear. The warmth of his breath sends shivers down your spine, goosebumps blooming despite the heat.

“Is that the best you can do?” You tease, finding his gaze. “Really?”

He’s warm at your amusement, eyes bright with his own humor or maybe it's the shots you watched Seokmin coax him into from the corner of your eye as you walked through the door. “How about, let me buy your next drink?”

“See if you lead with that I think you’ll be much more successful.”

He snorts before flagging down a bartender and reciting both your orders. The last thing he needs right now is more booze but if things go as planned, he’ll be too distracted to even notice you sipping on the cup meant for him.

 The hand at the base of your spine is calming even in the chaos of the bar, his effort to keep you close as possible like you’d go anywhere. A soothing circle of his thumb burns across the sliver of bare skin below the hem of your shirt makes the world shrink down to just you two.

An easily established routine takes over. Soonyoung crowds you in, pushing you back into one of the stools and assuming the space between your legs. The length of his body locks you firmly in place. His eyes trace your mouth as he talks. Calculating if you’ll let him kiss you or if it’s too early to ask for that just yet.

“You look good.”

“Oh?” you ask with fake innocence. You know what you look like. Short skirt, tight top. Enough skin to make him drool and think about what you’re wearing underneath. Or what you aren’t, given your track record.

“Yeah.” A complete sentence. He’s too preoccupied staring at your bare legs to provide more context. Void of an ounce of shame, he traces the curve of your thigh obscenely without a care who might see and the conclusions they’ll make. 

It’s hot. Temperature wise. Warm hands you wish would dip between your thighs and play with what’s just out of view rather than stroke at the rough hem of your skirt. But Soonyoung isn’t one for public indecency. 

At least not that indecent.

You watch him watch you. The blushed tips of his ears give away exactly what he’s thinking. The memories of you, in the back of his Jeep wearing this very skirt, bouncing on his cock like you’d die without it just last weekend. Blowing his load as you teased him with the idea of cumming inside you without a condom. If he keeps staring then you’ll have no choice but to rush him into the bathroom for a quickie. But tonight, you want him to break first.

“Are you planning to do something about or—”

Your phone is buzzing before you get the chance to finish the thought. It’s probably just your friends giving a fair warning they’re heading out now that you no longer need them to serve as cover for the real reason you’re in a shitty bar on a Friday night. But the name on the screen is one you haven’t thought about in months.

Mingyu (tinder): back in town for the night, u free? [11:34PM]

“Who’s that?” 

You bristle at his accusatory tone, locking your phone and hiding it away. Soonyoung assesses with skeptical eyes, chin jutted like you’re under examination because he decided to snoop over your shoulder.  “What? No one.”

“Doesn’t seem like no one.”

“It’s none of your business.” You shoot back. He’s starting to piss you off.

The feeling is mutual if the hutch in his shoulders is anything to go by. “Sorry I’m confused why some dude is inviting you over at midnight.”

“Well, it’s a good thing it doesn’t matter if you’re confused because you aren’t my boyfriend.” You spit. 

Soonyoung recoils like you slapped the words into his cheek. Cold air floods in between you, filling the newly abandoned space now that he’s stepping back.  

“You’re right, I’m not.” He scoffs after a beat.” Sleep with whoever you want. I’m done.”

Soonyoung leaves you standing there without a second glance, melting into the crowd while you gape. 

Fuck you, you think after the initial shock wears away. The last thing you need is Soonyoung’s permission. He may be the guy you’ve fucked exclusively for the better half of six months but he doesn’t have a monopoly on your time just because you take your clothes off for him. 

Staring at Mingyu’s message, you fire off a response before slipping off the barstool and beelining for the door.

You: send me the address [11:46PM]

The cab ride is filled with Top 40 and the echoes of city noise. A few attempts at conversation fall flat before the driver leaves you alone to stew in silence. Fuming, you stare out the window as streetlights become nothing but streaks in the darkness. Your fingers tap the annoyance out onto leather interior.

Each stop light gives you more time to think about how Soonyoung isn’t your boyfriend. He isn’t your anything. At best he’s an easy fuck that strokes your ego. And even if he asked, which he hadn’t, you don’t do relationships. Commitment isn’t a part of the deal. He takes what you give and he doesn’t complain. At least, not until now.

It’s a casual arrangement for both of your benefit. If he concocted some grandiose illusion it could ever be something more then he’d swiftly come down from that cloud. 

Stubbornness may kill you but there’s a point to prove tonight. That you can do whatever you want, whenever, with whoever you see fit. 

You don’t even realize when the car stops outside a familiar apartment building. 

Mingyu (tinder): lmk when ur outside [12:19AM]

The facade of anger starts crumbling. 

You don’t want to fuck Mingyu. His name hasn’t been at the forefront of your mind in months. None of your old flings have. Even new guys at the bar were placeholders to be ignored after Soonyoung arrived with a dumb joke and too much confidence. 

Somehow, without you realizing, months flew by without an ounce of interest for any guy other than the one you abandoned in a bar. The one guy you’re pretty sure would give you the moon if you asked.

And you screwed it all up to prove a point.

“Sorry, I gave you the wrong address. Can you actually take me to…” you ramble, typing out your final response to someone who you should’ve left firmly in the past.

You: i cant [12:25AM]

After the message goes through, blocking Mingyu’s number is easier than you’d like to admit.

—

The clock ticks closer to the time for early rises to begin rousing when you start losing hope. The carpet outside Soonyoung’s apartment is disgusting but after the first hour, you braved sitting down over the worsening blisters from an impractical shoe choice. Butt numb and phone battery in the single digits, you search for the courage to commute back across town with a bruised ego.

In all the time you’ve spent on the hard ground, not one of his roommates has come home. 

He isn’t aware of your sudden change of heart so there's no reason he’d come rushing home. As far as he’s concerned you're bent in half in some old flames bed without a care for his feelings. Maybe this is how you punish yourself for pretending you’re capable of something like that. Pretending Soonyoung’s feelings haven’t flown to the top of your priorities since that fateful night in his room. Every time you go to his contact the wave of guilt threatens to crush you.

It’s another fifteen minutes before Soonyoung stumbles down the hallway. Alone. 

Even from a distance, evidence of the night after your departure is plain to see. His eyes are glassy and the stench of bar floor rolls off him. Soonyoung is a sentimental drunk but knowing you’re the reason for such a sorry state makes you want to sprint out the door into oncoming traffic.

You feel pathetic and small but he doesn’t even seem to realize you're sitting there as he trips over your legs with a mumbled ‘scuse me,’ which only makes that hole in your chest grow. But you can’t find a word to say. Not with the disappointment clear on his face. 

Disappointment because you were stubbornly refusing to let him in.

It was a mistake. Coming here, leaving the bar, going to the bar, pretending you could do any of this in the first place. Maybe if you stay still he won’t notice you and you can disappear forever once he’s inside. 

But whoever runs things has a vested interest in your love life.

Soonyoung drops his keys after failing to get them in the lock for the nth time. They bounce off the ground and skitter the few inches away where you mourn, gleaming next to your bare thigh. He finally seems to take notice of your presence.

“You’re here?” He teeters, bending at the waist to snatch up his keys and almost ends up head first through the wall. You take mercy and hand them to him instead.

He’s looking straight through you. To the parts you hide beneath snide comments and brush offs, the side that claims none of this is that serious. That he shouldn’t expect anything, that a relationship is so far out of the realm of

“I blocked his number.”

He freezes at the confession, tense around the shoulders like he isn’t even breathing.

It's all too much.

You rock up onto your feet, unbalanced as blood flow is restored to the lower half of your body. You’ve got to get out of here. Somewhere else, anywhere else. Where he isn’t looking at you like that. Halfway down the hall is where you finally hear him speak again.

“Really?” Soonyoung asks, voice flooded with disbelief and maybe something like wonder.

You don’t bother to turn around before answering. “Don’t make it weird.”

More silence. Your shuddering breath and his footsteps fill the hallway. He’s at your back, a hand ghosting along your elbow. “How long have you been here?”

You really don’t want to answer but he needs to hear it. He needs to hear how much you care. Even if it’s scary. 

“Since I left the bar.”

“Don’t leave,” he beckons. 

It sounds like a thank you. Thank you for… not fucking some guy when you could’ve? Thank you for picking him even if you can’t say it out loud? He knows it's a lot, even drunk out of his mind. One day you’ll have to tell him you’d pick him over anything but tonight carries more than you can handle already.

Your hand finds his. A tight grip, sweaty palms not even a consideration because the contact lifts some of the invisible weight off your shoulders.

He ushers you inside, down the hall to his room. In the silent darkness of the apartment, his hands stay on you. Like if for even a second you two aren’t touching you’ll float away. Fingers laced tight as you shyly shuffle behind him.

Your clothes fall to the ground. Not in the rushed heat of usual encounters, but in a desperate need to feel one another: skin on skin. 

Naked in bed, you stake claim to his lap, lost against what comes next. This is usually the easiest part. You know how sex works. But his mouth burns along your palm, savoring the warmth with a long kiss that scratches at your throat. You shake, breath stuttering. Another kiss to your palm, lips gliding across your wrist, your elbow, the curve of your shoulder. Each webs another crack.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper as the dam begins to break.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, voice shaking. 

“You thought I didn’t pick you,” you whimper again, tears welling because you’re embarrassed. Both from how you acted and how you’re crying in the first place. But it feels cathartic. Letting him see the parts no one else gets to witness. 

“A-and I let you.”

“You’re here now. That’s all I care about.”

Somehow he manages to pull you into a tighter hold, crushing your ribs but you don’t need oxygen. You need Soonyoung. You settle in the cradle of his thighs, legs wrapped around his waist and arms locked across his shoulder.

He doesn’t offer a joke to cut the tension. He doesn’t try to play a simpering fool just to see you smile. Soonyoung tangles you in his arms and doesn’t ease up even when you wiggle for more comfort.

When you kiss him, he kisses back. Your mouth opens when he nudges his tongue at the seam of your lips. Arching into his palms at the curve of your spine, you moan as he flips you over and dips under the covers. Your thighs will be bruised come morning but it’s a welcome thought because that means there’s proof of Soonyoung’s claim on you; one you’ve been too stubborn to acknowledge. 

Each stroke of his tongue is another nail in the coffin. Vibrations cue you in that he’s speaking but all you can make out is the break of Soonyoung’s voice when he chants ‘mine,’ into your skin. You refuse to let go of his hand the entire time, while you writhe and shake, brain melting until you shatter with a cry. His fingers stayed interlocked on top of your stomach as your nails bite crescents into the skin. Another reminder that will fade but you look good on him for right now. It’s enough for right now.

His mouth tastes of you when you finally coax him back into another kiss. You lick across his tongue like you could suck away his breath if you tried. 

You fuck him like that. Back in his lap, chest to chest, panting into each other’s mouth in a crude kiss because even an inch of space between your bodies is too much. Not because either of you are horny and need release. It’s a different type of sex you’ve never been familiar with. Closer. Needier.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper again.

“Don’t—fuck—don’t wanna talk about it anymore.” He doesn’t sound sure of it. Maybe you’ll have to talk about what this means later, without the safety of a dark room.

The next apology dies at the tip of your tongue. Focused on nothing but the swell between your thighs, his fingers strumming you into another orgasm you’re unprepared for.

“Soonyoung.” You vibrate into the next wave, pinching tight at his shoulders until his lips find your neck.

You cradle his face between your palms, kissing away whatever worries linger. He doesn't say anything as he spills into the condom; silently refusing let go for what feels like hours, catching your breaths until he slouches back into the mattress and your weight follows.

“I didn’t mean it,” you confess. Your fingers busy etching across the jut muscle along his neck, something to take the focus off how awful you feel.

“Okay…” Soonyoung traces the dip between your shoulder blades; a simple touch leaving you on edge. “What did you mean then?”

“I don’t want…that.” 

“Want what?” His fingers flex. There’s an unusual level of patience from him tonight but rather than annoyance, you’re thankful. You wouldn’t say half the things you should if Soonyoung wasn’t here to ask for them.

“To sleep with other guys.” It’s half of the truth. The more important half, the part lodged in your throat and refusing to come out, is that you don’t want to lose him. And you’ll do what it takes not to let that happen. But you don’t elaborate on that thought.

“Good.” He smiles against your temple. “I don’t want to sleep with other guys either.”

A weak joke but it’s a start back towards normal. Soonyoung might just understand these feelings more than you think. Thank God someone does.

You both pretend to fall asleep after that, silently lingering in the liminal space between dreams and consciousness. Your cheek on his chest, the beat of his heart lulling your own down from an anxious rush. His arms a cocoon from whatever waits on the other side of daylight for you two to figure out.

Together.

Strips of sun slowly brighten between the slats of the blinds. A signal that it’s time to test whatever happened in the last few hours under the daylight.

“Wanna get breakfast?” Soonyoung asks, trailing gentle pecks across your bare shoulder.

“Waffles sound good.”

“Waffles it is.”

In the bright lights of the diner, your head throbs. Half from the hangover threatening to tie your stomach in knots and the other half from crying. Your eyes are still puffy, throat sore from such an emotional display in the privacy of Soonyoung’s room.

Soonyoung sits across the table, fingers tangled with yours on top for everyone to see. A proud declaration you fight not to shy away from. Even as he digs into his food he doesn’t stop tracing the back of your thumb with his own. Second nature. You should let him do it more often. It’s a nice feeling.

Seeing couples constantly touching in public before was something you watched with disgust. Except now you get it. Because despite the rational knowledge that you’d certainly be fine if he let go, there's also the feeling that you’d dissolve in the wind if he even considered the idea.

You’ve picked apart your plate, remains of decimated waffles and eggs pushed across the booth for his consumption. Soonyoung fumbles with the shaker and douses the scrambled yellows in mountainous trails of salt. He glances up at you, cheeks rounded in shock like you’d be able to help him. Biting back a conspiratory smile, you start shoveling the mess into a napkin.

Soonyoung stares, silent as you impale a slice of strawberry on the end of your fork and pop it into your mouth. It’s salty too but you wash it away with a swig of cheap coffee.

“What?” you ask. 

He answers with a peck to the back of your hand, diving into the more edible scraps that escaped his mess as if none of it happened in the first place.

In a sudden moment of clarity, a longing rooted deep in your chest rears its head. You don’t know what love feels like but maybe this is the start of it.

Sitting in a shitty dinner, wearing his clothes, while Soonyoung laughs at some joke you don’t catch because you’re too busy trying to find your breath. It’s good though. Exciting.

But the moment passes with a beat of your heart. It’s just you and him. He’s your something, you the same for him. And that’s enough right now.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @writingbarnes

@dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts @wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos

@seungkw1 @horanghaezone @jespecially @scoupsjin @isabellah29

series: @pinklemonadeflav @gyuwoosbabie @dinossaurz @vixensss

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[scekrex]

Adam loves m!reader but reader doesn’t believe him after Adam got drunk one day and had strippers all over him. so as a act of true love during extermination Adam kills the people who ended readers life on earth and sends him a video with the bodies in true Adam fashion. Reader realizes the first man would do anything for him.

Vengeance is the only drug and I can't get enough

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, canon typical violence, kinda explicit description of murder

note: not beta read bc fuck you

Adam wasn’t sure or when it happened, but when he found himself sitting on a chair in the middle of a party room, surrounded by strippers, he thought of himself as quite lucky. You were in the back of head, yes, but the majority of his mind was dizzy by the alcohol he had drunk and by the lust his body felt when seeing all those pretty chicks and dudes surrounding him. One of the dudes reminded Adam of you, he looked the part and that was all his dick needed to get it going.

The brunette made grabby hands at the stripper that looked similar to you, and once the man was close enough, greedy hands grabbed his waist and he found himself sitting on Adam’s lap. The first man attacked the poor stripper’s lips quite hungrily, growling out your name as he pulled the stripper’s hips flush against his own.

You were just getting back from getting a glass of water when you saw the scene that played out in the middle of the room. The drunken angels surrounding them only cheered Adam on, none of them cared that he was in fact very much in a steady relationship. You stepped over to the scene and some angels - those who knew what was best for them - went quiet the moment they saw you approaching Adam and the stripper in his lap. Some others - those who had consumed too much alcohol - kept cheering, they most likely thought you would join them. But you didn’t, instead you spilled the water you had gotten for Adam to sober him up a little all over his head.

“What you’re doing there babes, is called cheating,” you hissed into Adam’s ear, the anger in your voice was audible, though the brunette sitting on the chair was the only one hearing those venomous words spoken by you. The first man turned his head to look at you and you saw how something in his eyes shifted - the look-alike was no longer enough, not when the real deal was right in front of Adam’s face. He was eager to push the stripper off his lap, his left hand grabbed your neck and it was obvious that Adam tried to pull you in for a kiss. But you grabbed the wrist of the hand that was grabbing your neck and yanked him off the chair and onto his feet instead. “We’re leaving,” you grumbled as you dragged Adam through the house of the bassist of Adam’s band.

-

After that night the bond between you and Adam wasn’t the same anymore. And while the brunette partly understood your anger, he also made it clear that he thought of your reaction as ‘too much’ and ‘over the top’, a description you didn’t like for obvious reasons. Who knew what would’ve happened if you had taken just a little longer. You tried to convince yourself that Adam would never cheat on you, no matter the circumstances, but after what you’ve seen, you weren’t so sure about that anymore.

“Listen babes,” Adam said, his voice a little too relaxed for how serious the situation was, “You’re angry, that’s cool. I’ll simply make it fucking up to you.” He lazily reached up to get a ricecorn out that apparently got stuck between his teeth. You raised an eyebrow at the first man sitting across the table, lowering the fork and the knife in your hands as you bitterly spoke, “Yeah, and how are you gonna do that?” Adam shrugged before he responded, he seemed so careless and unaffected by it all, like it wasn’t a big deal. “You’ll see,” and with those words he got up from his chair and carried his plate into the kitchen, “For now I have to fucking go though, extermination ‘n’ shit, the ladies are waiting already.” Adam held up his phone, showing you the groupchat of the exorcists. His so-called ‘Ladies’ were indeed quite impatient asking where he was.

The brunette rounded the table, pressed a quick kiss to your head and then left without another word. You were furious, and who could blame you? Adam wasn’t taking this seriously and it showed. Was he right, were you really just too sensitive? Were you overreacting?

-

Once the first man reached Hell’s ground, he went on a hunt for two specific people, people who harmed his boyfriend back when he had been alive. And those two people were surprisingly easy to find and separate from the other sinners roaming Hell’s pride ring. On his way down Adam unlocked his phone and opened the camera app of his device, starting to record the following minutes.

He landed quite elegantly on hellish ground, caging his chosen victims in by keeping his wings spread, the panic on their faces was delightful to Adam, he liked the fear that filled their eyes and caused their bodies to shiver. And despite the fear that so obviously lingered in their bones, they tried to pick a fight.

Bold of them to assume they’d win against someone like Adam - let alone Adam himself.

The camera of his phone recorded how frightened the two sinners looked and Adam was quite eager to grab the head of one of them. Thick black hair covered Adam’s hair as he pulled the murderer of his boyfriend close to his body, his voice deep, filled with hatred and disgust as he spoke, “You fucked with my bitch,” effortlessly the brunette angel let his axe appear, it floated above his head for a moment, then he tossed the sinner roughly to the ground and with his free hand he reached out and grabbed the weapon he loved so much.

The other sinner was running, running from Adam and the other exorcists, nothing Adam could care about in that moment, he’d get to the other cunt later, for now he focused on the sinner that was trying to get up from the ground. “And fucking no-one fucks with my bitch,” the eyes of his mask glitched in excitement as his grin grew wider and wider, making the angel look like a maniac.

One quick look on his phone screen confirmed that the angle was correct to record his following actions and without hesitation he sent his ax flying down, right onto the sinner's neck. The sharp angelic blade slid effortlessly through the sinners skin and bones and the first man chuckled quite amused at the sight of the sinners head rolling away from its body at the impact.

For a short moment he switched to his front camera, recording his grinning face, then he flipped the camera back and made sure the sinner’s head was visible in the video. He grabbed the bloody head, held it in front of his crotch - he was careful to not get the sinner’s filthy blood to close to his own body - and then thrusted his hips into the direction of the head he was holding in his hand, taunting the beheaded sinner by pretending to fuck his mouth as a deep, maniacal chuckle rumbled through his body.

Carelessly he dropped the head to the ground and with a small beam of holy light he pulverized the corpse - he wanted to make sure that not a single thing was left of the cunts that harmed his boyfriend.

Then he went to hunt the coward who had decided to go for a run - a run from Adam, a run he’d so obviously lost.

His ax scratched against the hellish ground he was walking on as he approached the stupid sinner who had run right into a blind alley. A quite violent sounding chuckle vibrated through Adam’s entire body as he spread his wings once more to cage the other sinner in. With ease he thrusted the pointy spear-like tip of his guitar towards the bitch in front of him, piercing his chest.

The sinner sank to his knees, screaming and crying in pain as Adam stabbed him like that over and over again, spilling the sinner’s blood everywhere. The smaller being was laying on the ground, not able to move and Adam took his sweet, sweet time to position his phone on the ground so the camera would catch his next act. His ax was gone as he hovered over the slowly dying sinner. His eyes held hatred in them, so much that it reflected in his mask - so much that the eyes of his mask glitched yet again.

“Time to fucking die, cunt,” he spat out as he slowly kneeled in front of the bleeding and crying sinner. He grabbed the sinner's head, his hands firmly framing the face of his next victim before he released a small beam of holy light from his palm, pulverizing the head of the weak being in front of him. His fingers dug tightly into the corpse's arm, tearing it away from the torso.

He pulled the sinner apart with his bare hands, limp by limp, gut by gut.

-

When Adam came home from extermination day, you were already waiting for him in the hallway of the house you shared. Judgemental eyes looked him up and down, the angel was covered in sinner blood from head to toe, even his mask was a mess. You had your arms crossed as you looked at the proud grin on his face - he knew you’ve seen the video.

“You’re gross,” you spoke quietly as you approached the taller angel slowly, yet your words sounded playful, a little mocking even. Your hands grabbed a hold of his hips and pulled his blood covered body flush against yours as a small smirk curled around your lips. Adam responded with an equal smirk on his lips, he took his mask off and tossed it carelessly onto the ground. His hands came to cup your face as his rough voice spoke, “Yeah, but luckily you like it fucking gross.”

[fic-recommended]

Steddie Fics

more to be added, if I feel like adding

—————————————

Across, Diagonal and Upside Down – rajumat

(2,889 words, 1 chapter, Teen)

Tags: Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Fluff, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bingo, no beta we die like men

After Billy beats the shit out of Steve, Dustin makes the entire party Upside Down Bingo Cards, because awful things suck less when you have something fun to think about. Or: Steve wins at bingo.

Cute intro to Steddie and just fun trauma bonding times.

Camp Folktale, Summer of ’86 – cairparaels

(113,859 words, 47 chapters, Not Rated)

Tags: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Steve Harrington Is a Mess, Hurt Eddie Munson, Eddie is nice to everyone but Steve and no one knows why, Miscommunication, Swimming, Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is Trying His Best, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Friendship, Campfires, Cryptids, Ghost Stories, Power Outages, Secret Admirer, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Found Family, Eddie and Steve are reluctant dads, POV Alternating, Slow Burn, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Humor, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down, Jealousy, eddie munson is a virgin, Flirting, Sexual Tension, Eddie Munson Gets Flustered Very Easily, So does Steve but he would never admit it, Not Beta Read, Tolkien References, Kissing, Making Out, Makeup, Flea Markets, Skinny Dipping, underwater kissing, Saving the camp, Eventual Smut, Smut, Overuse of italics

When Steve applies for a summer camp per Dustin's request, he doesn’t expect to have the most interesting summer of his life. Featuring a sulky metalhead who hates Steve for no reason, eight kids set on driving Steve to an early grave, Robin Buckley’s ability to charm any girl she wants, and Steve’s bisexual disaster/dream/nightmare. But hey, that’s what summer camp is all about. Right?

This fic made me obsess over making summer camps in the sims with queer romances. This fic is good. Simple word but an incredible feat.

The One in Which a Time Loop is Fucking Exhausting. – badpancake

(41,496 words, 12 chapters, Teen)

Tags: Time Loop, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Steve Harrington-centric, Hurt Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, im so sorry, steve deserves a little sexuality crisis, as a treat, Eventual Happy Ending, steve is sick of this shit, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, it takes a time loop for these fuckers to get together, Steve Harrington Is a Mess, Suicide Attempt, Whump, Canon-Typical Violence, Alternate Universe - Groundhog Day (1993) Fusion, Dyslexic Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Has ADHD, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Slow Burn, Kinda, BAMF Steve Harrington, Suicidal Thoughts, Steve Harrington Whump, can be read standalone!!, Touch-Starved Steve Harrington, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Protective Steve Harrington, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, in the end.... eventually, Families of Choice, Vecna Possessing Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has Powers, kinda??, i guess we can call it that

It’s the first time in a while that he doesn’t know what comes next. He’s dove into the water hundreds of times. Screamed as his flesh was torn apart, heard Master of Puppets in the distance and held back tears. Felt Max’s cold, small hand in his as she laid in the hospital bed. There are things that always happen, no matter how hard he tries: El doesn’t arrive in time. Eddie dies. Max is put in a coma. Steve fails. They lose. “Steve, how many loops have you been through?” His head is nodding, and his eyes are watery, and Eddie has approached him like a spooked animal. “I lost count.” AKA: The one where Steve Harrington is stuck in a time loop, and Eddie Munson is really fucking hard to save, or: fuck Volume 2, these bitches are in love.

I cried alot reading this fic. Yet it is the only Steddie fic I can really think of that gave me such a lasting impression that I find myself quoting it even to people who have no idea where it’s from. 

You’re Divine – Oonionchiver

(259,565 words, 8 chapters , Explicit)

Tags: Slow Burn, Falling In Love, Codependency, Human/Monster Romance, Steve Harrington's Medium Tendency to Self Destruct, Blood Kink, BDSM, Choking, Painplay, The Worst/Best Bath Ever, Blood Drinking, Eating Disorders, Suicidal Ideation, Rough Sex, Daddy Kink, this might fuck you up, Vampire Eddie Munson, Human/Vampire Relationship, Monsterfucking On Main Oh My, DO NOT ADD TO GOODREADS, Robin and Steve are Soul Mates, Affectionate Obsession, Subdrop, Sharing Blood Before They Ever Kiss, Dom/sub, Happy Ending Literally Always Guaranteed In This House, Fuck Me Up But Make It Devastatingly Disgustingly Romantic, Switching, But y'know we cant be normal about it, Size Kink, This Might Awaken Things In You, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Possession, now with art!, Suicide Attempt

‘Blood?’ Eddie says again. Eyes black but for the slice of iridescent white in the centre. His teeth are sharp, his hands are weapons and Steve thinks maybe he’s made a mistake doing this without telling Eddie first. Eddie’s focus lowers, it moves to his left hand which is… Oh fuck. It’s dripping blood onto the floor. ‘Shit,’ Steve says, takes a single step back, swallows. ‘Eddie, I’m so sorry, fuck.’ Eddie can’t seem to look away, can’t bring his ethereal gaze back up where it belongs. Steve thinks he should run, he should flee. A tiny part of him knows Eddie will chase him. Eddie will catch him, outrun him easily. It's more than a little fucked up how that thrills him.

I think where I went wrong is not seeing the teeny tiny pesky little tag that says this might awaken something in you I know if I were to have see it I wouldn’t be who I am today. Because holy fucking hell does this fic make something inside you hatch. Like what the fuck. Incredible writing I love a monster fucker.

Suspended Bridges - foresthearts

(243,553 words, 35 chapters, Mature)

Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Steve Harrington, Alpha Eddie Munson, Stancy is not endgame, Steve thinks he’s afraid of Eddie when he really just has a big fat crush, Oblivious Steve Harrington, mentions of Mpreg because omegaverse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Steve meets Eddie before s4, Slow Burn, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Period-Typical Homophobia, Steve is an omega pretending to be an alpha, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Unreliable Narrator, Tall Eddie, Dom/sub Undertones, Dom Eddie Munson, EMT Steve Harrington, Mileven will break up in this i am sorry, Mutual Pining, Family Dynamics, Redemption Arcs, Found Family, Misunderstandings, But hopefully not in an obnoxious way, Protective Eddie Munson

“Steve really needed to get his stupid thing he had with Munson under control. He struggled to find a word for it. It was like an anti-crush or something. The same awareness and panic that a crush brought, but not because he had feelings for the guy. Because of the opposite. Because any time he saw Munson, his heart kicked up in fear, his breathing got shallow, his whole body started to warm. Munson made him want to turn heel and run.” In which Steve has the opposite of the suspended bridge effect. (Featuring omega!Steve pretending to be an alpha and alpha!Eddie silently losing his mind.)

I think I can sum this fic up better in a scene. So you see me standing in the middle of my kitchen, hand over my mouth, eyes wide, as I read the big reveal and a certain metal heads reaction. My partner is astounded. I am shaking and blushing. Nothing is more magnificent or earth shatteringly embarrassing for all parties, real or otherwise, involved. Magnificent fic if I do say so myself.

[serdtse]

//

[yet-another-heathen]

🦽 Too weak to walk, for Henry <333

(@whumpvp kiss kiss)

Content Warning | Post-op wooziness, Henry being pliant and helpless, Fluff

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This was about as routine a heart surgery as they came. The battery in Henry's ICD had run low, and so for the sixth time in his life he'd gone under to have it replaced. Both of them were familiar with the process, and they'd had more than a month to prepare. But it didn't stop Wesley from nearly melting with relief when he first laid eyes on him again. Exhausted and pale and drugged, but still aware and still in one piece.

Wes filled out the paperwork. Collected the post-op meds, thanked the nurses one last time. Then he took the handles of Henry's wheelchair, and started them toward home.

Wes had seen him like this a few times before, but it was never going to stop making his heart ache. Henry's eyes were glassy and vacant, watching the floor tiles go by without seeming to follow them. He was still holding his hospital pillow close to his chest, looking every bit like he'd crumble apart without it.

Henry winced as they went over the threshold, knuckles going white on the pillow. Wes was even more careful about the next little bump, and then they were out to the lane where the valet was waiting with the Audi. The sound of traffic going by, the murmur of other waiting patients, the smell of heat and asphalt hit like a wave.

Henry seemed to stir a little, recognizing his car. And then he started looking around, brows furrowed until he found what he was looking for. Wesley.

"Hey," Wes said gently. He leaned down and locked the wheels on either side, making eye contact with one of the nurses and nodding for them to come over. He squatted down next to Henry, giving his arm a squeeze. "We're gonna help you into your seat. Then we're headed home to rest, okay?"

Henry's eyes were on him, blinking too slowly as he tried to focus. But eventually he inclined his head in what was probably a nod, and turned his eyes back to the car as if figuring out how to try to get in there.

Wes almost didn't catch it when Henry shifted his weight forward in an attempt to stand, only to nearly collapse into the car door. "Hey- hey—not yet." He caught him, and the other nurse jogged over to close the distance. They each took Henry under his arm, steadying him. "Let us do the work. Just put your foot here....and the other....there you go. Now on three. One, two..."

They hefted him the rest of the way out of the chair, and helped him transfer to the car. Wes caught his head just before it hit the roof, and let out a breath of relief as Henry sunk down into the seat. It took a few more moments of helping him adjust his legs and get buckled. Wes made sure he was able to keep the pillow between his seat belt and the incision site, and Henry went back to hugging it just as closely as before.

Wes thanked the nurse, then closed the passenger door. Once they were both in the silence and familiarity of the Audi, Henry's eyelids drooped. He looked exhausted, and his breathing was coming slow and a little labored. Wes buckled in, then reached over to give his leg a squeeze. He got a little sound of acknowledgement. He knew he was there.

The drive home was a quiet one. He took a longer route home, one that would avoid as many stops signs and potholes as possible to avoid jostling Henry any more than necessary. And when they finally pulled up to the steps of their rowhouse, Wes let the car idle for another minute as he coaxed Henry back to awareness.

"I'm gonna come around to get you. And we're going to take the steps really slow, alright? It doesn't matter how long it takes to get us there."

Henry made a mumble that sounded like an acknowledgement. They'd talked about this before his surgery, and somewhere in there he still knew the plan. Handrail on one side, Wes on the other. Slow and steady.

Wes gave a nod, and then came around to open his door. He helped him unbuckle, and murmured, "We're gonna leave the pillow here for now, but I promise I'll give it back when we're inside." He still saw Henry hold it even tighter for a moment, before that little bit of resistance caught up with common sense. He let Wes take it, fingers still clinging loosely as it was pulled away. The longing on Henry's face made his heart ache, but he knew it would be forgotten by the time he got it back.

Getting him to his feet was no small feat. Getting him to the base of the steps wasn't either. Henry wasn't exactly a light man, especially when he was swaying as they went. He kept tripping on his own shoes as though he couldn't remember quite how to place them. But with Wes' help they made it to the hand rail, and from there Henry finally seemed to remember his balance.

There were only ten steps up to the door, and every one of them was taken carefully and clumsily. Wes helped him lean up against the doorway as he got it unlocked, feeling Henry's whole frame trembling with exhaustion against his side.

And then they were home. He tossed the keys onto the counter, and helped Henry up the last step. Henry started hanging back just inside the doorway, looking down at his feet. It took Wes a moment to realize he was trying to toe off his shoes.

The sight tugged at him. Even drugged halfway to hell, routine was still such a powerful thing.

"It's alright, love. Let's get you sitting first. I'll help you out of them once we're in the bedroom."

"...mm?"

"Yeah. Promise it'll make it a lot easier."

He coaxed him along. They went past the couch and to the bedroom, where blankets and pillows and water were already set up and waiting. He eased Henry down onto the bed, and bent over to help him pull off his shoes.

He was gentle getting him undressed. Careful to make sure he didn't try to lift his arms, steadying him when he started to sway. He helped him settle back against the pillows. Henry's skin was clammy to the touch, but he still leaned into him when Wes pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I'm gonna be right back. I just need to go get the rest of our things."

Henry was almost asleep again by the time he returned. He roused him just enough to offer him his pillow. And when he saw it, the look of relief on his face said everything. He curled around it like a long lost friend, tucking his knees up and burying his cheek against it with a sigh. It didn't seem to matter that he was surrounded by other, arguably much better pillows. This was the only one he had eyes for.

Wes sat down beside him and combed fingers back through his hair. And with that, in moments, Henry was asleep.

[jabberwockprince]

heard there was an update for YB so i got around to play it and revamp my old ass Y/N <3

here's a little creature approaching you with ill intent! they're selfish, antagonistic and contrary on purpose. loves eating lemons and being the cryptid roommate who skitters around the apartment at 4 am