#the lashes on this man istg

[buckera]

EVAN BUCKLEY + close-up 4/?

[daisies-daydreams]

Intoxicating (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader)

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader Category: Smut (18+) Warnings: Breeding Kink, Feral!Miguel O'Hara, Pheromones, Use of Petnames, Rough Sex, P in V Sex, Unprotected Sex (You Know the Drill), Creampie, Mating Press, Baby Talk, SPOILER FOR ATSV Word Count: 1.5k+

A/N: Based on a prompt by @imslightlycreative. Literally cannot get enough of this man, istg. 😩🥴 I apologize, my Spanish is pretty rough. If I got anything wrong feel free to correct me. Translations are at the end of the fic. I hope you enjoy!

Original Prompt: "Reader is ovulating. Miguel finds out that his heightened senses can also pick up on pheromones".

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Miguel crept through the bedroom door. His hard heart softened when he saw you tucked beneath the comforter. You sighed and shifted slightly, your breathing steady as you slept soundly. He hovered next to you, his hand brushing some messy hair out of your face. Just as he leaned down to press a kiss to your temple, a bolt shot down his spine. His nostrils flared as he picked up on a scent: it was potent and sweet like rose water, yet intoxicating like wine. His talons suddenly drew out on their own as his pupils began to dilate.

"¿Qué carajo?" he muttered as his skin crawled, heat stirring inside his chest. The hair on his arms stood on end as he suddenly released a quiet grunt. Your eyes fluttered open as he clamped his hands over his mouth. 

“¿Miguel?,” you blinked. Miguel’s hands shook as his carnal desires began to devour every inch of his body. He parted his lips as he felt a familiar throb in between his legs.

“Sí, bebé. I’m home,” he murmured, his voice husky and low. He swallowed thickly as you shifted yourself up, revealing your naked breasts from beneath the covers. His head spun as you slid your hand into his, your touch sending ripples down his spine and straight to his cock. 

“Are you feeling okay, hermoso? You’re breathing pretty heavily,” you frowned as you stretched your arms out to cup his face. Miguel released a shaky sigh as you laid a hand on his forehead. “You’re burning up,” you said. Miguel nodded and licked his dry lips, his words swirling around in his clouded mind like a torrent. 

“J-Just some leftover adrenaline from the the mission,” he explained shakily, his eyes raking down your luscious body. You tilted your head. 

“Are you-” You gasped when Miguel’s large shadow suddenly cast over yours. He caged you in between his muscular thighs as he bared his teeth over your pulse. A deep hunger rose from the pit of his belly and spilled into every corner of his mind. His nostrils flared as he battled with the part of him that desperately wanted to rut into you. 

“M-Miguel,” you sighed as you swallowed. Your mouth opened as he stuck his nose where your shoulder and neck met, inhaling your scent. 

“What perfume are you wearing, cariño?” he purred. You whined as he scraped his teeth over your soft flesh. You arched your back and gasped when his hips bucked forward into your bare pussy.

“I-I’m not wearing perfume,” you said with a shaky breath. Miguel’s eyes snapped open as his lips danced over your collar bone. 

You weren’t wearing perfume? Then, that scent…

Miguel’s gaze went back to your breasts. Curiously, he cupped them in his palms before giving them a light squeeze. You moaned, your mouth falling open into a wide “O”.  

“Ah-Mig,” you cried out. Miguel's lips fell into a straight line. Your whole face turned a deep shade of crimson as his lips trailed down your torso. The smell became stronger as he came closer to your dripping cunt. Miguel’s chest heaved as his hands slid down from your tender breasts and spread your thighs apart.

His hot breath fanned over your pussy before he gently lashed his tongue across your folds. His body felt like it was on fire as he lapped your sweet arousal into his mouth. The last shred of his willpower snapped with the taste of you on his tongue. Miguel released an animalistic snarl as he lunged forward and completely pinned you to the bed. Your eyes widened with shock as he grinded his hips against yours, his cock rock-hard and ready to burst.

"Cariño, te necesito," he practically whined as he drove his clothed cock against your naked pussy. You keened as wrapped your legs around his waist.

"Arruíname,” you keened with drunk, half-lidded eyes. His crimson eyes rolled into the back of his head as he cut a slit in his pants with his talons. His dick sprang out and bounced on your stomach. Your eyes glistened at the sight of his swollen, flushed cock leaking with precum.

“Mi hermosa,” Miguel snarled. He brought his hands beneath your thighs before sheathing his cock inside your wet heat in one eager thrust. He couldn’t get enough of the small moans and cries that tumbled from your lips as he eagerly pounded into you. Your tight cunt greedily sucked him in as his dick slid along your plush walls. “Tan apretada,” Miguel gasped as your pussy fluttered around him. The room was filled with the lewd sounds of wet squelching and skin slapping against skin. He bared his fangs as his heavy balls smacked against your puffy, wet folds. 

“M-Miguel,” you drooled when the tip of his cock reached into your cervix. It felt softer and more open as he relentlessly stroked against it. "Feel so good, Papi-please go faster!" you begged. You released a silent scream as Miguel pressed your legs up to your shoulders. Your slick splashed against him each time he buried himself to the hilt inside you. He leaned down to your ear.

“¿Quieres a mi bebe?” he rasped. You mewled at his words, your hands scraping down his taut forearms. 

“Fuck, Miguel,” you whined. The creases of your knees were held in his palms as his cock somehow struck even deeper within you. His lips crashed into yours as he nearly folded you in half, your slick dribbling down across the bulge that poked out of your lower stomach. 

“Want me to put a baby in you, hm? Want me to fill you up again and again until you can’t walk?” he husked. You released a moan loud enough to shake the bedroom walls. 

“Yes-yes I want your baby! Please fill up my pussy, Papi!” you begged. Miguel smirked as he slid his tongue along your jawline and pistoned into you at a brutal pace. 

“Buena chica,” he purred. His balls began to feel tight as your walls restricted around his boiling shaft. Miguel had to admit that he loved seeing you like this: folded and ready to take his seed. “Vamos, puedes hacerlo,” the man groaned as he saw your eyes squeeze shut and brows pinch together. Your breasts rose and fell as your breathing became ragged. 

“MIG!” you screamed as your hands raked down his back. He grunted as your cunt clamped down and spasmed around his thick cock. 

“Tan buena, tan buena para mi,” Miguel strained as he tried to push through the way your pussy squeezed his cock. The way your face twisted in ecstasy brought him closer to the edge. The back of your thighs jiggled against the front of his thighs. His thrusts became sloppy as you whined below him. 

“Fill me, fill me,” you begged incessantly, your lips parted as drool slid down your face. Miguel could feel the red-hot eruption boiling in his cock as he heard your pussy squelch around his length. 

“Mierda,” he grunted. You gazed into his darkened eyes, hot tears rolling down your glowing cheeks. 

“Papi,” you cooed. The simple word finally pushed Miguel over the edge. He yelled and slammed his hips down. His mind was drowning in waves of pleasure as his body stiffened. Miguel’s cock throbbed as he squirted rope after rope of his thick cum into your stretched hole. 

He panted as he felt the tension in his body begin to unravel-feeling at how his cum bubbled and spilled out where your sexes were joined. His dick twitched as it released the last stream of his spend, stuffing you completely full of his seed. Miguel’s eyelids drooped as he caught his breath. You gazed up at him, tear stains still trailing down your face.

He cooed as he leaned down, hushing you with a gentle kiss. Miguel wrapped his arms around you as he lay on top of you, his cock still plugged in your weeping cunt. He felt your hot breath fan over his shoulder as you played with his raven hair. 

“Did you know I was ovulating?” you asked. His eyes snapped open. 

“It was just a hunch,” he mumbled, his mind still somewhat drunk from your cunt squeezing him so tightly. You giggled and kissed his temple. His body began to relax as he listened to your heartbeat steady. 

“So, how many are we going to have?” you whispered. Miguel’s throat tightened as he looked at you with a soft gaze. 

“You mean-you really want to have…” his voice trailed off as images of his variant daughter flashed through his mind. You beamed and cupped his cheek, kissing the tip of his nose while nodding. Joy spread from the cracks in his heart all the way to the tips of his fingers. A wide smile stretched across his face as he kissed you over and over again, his hand trailing down your side. 

“Gracias, mi vida,” he whispered, his eyes misty as he swallowed a lump in his throat. You sighed, then gasped when he rolled both of you over. 

“Miggy!” you giggled as he nipped at your ear. You mewled as he pressed his chest against your back and shallowly pumped his cock into you. His cum sloshed around inside you as he whispered into your ear. 

“We might as well get a head start, since my cock is already stuffed inside your tight cunt”.

___

Thank you for reading! ❤️

Translations:

¿Qué carajo? - What the fuck?

Papi - Daddy

Sí, bebé - Yes, baby

Hermoso/Hermosa - Handsome/Gorgeous

Te necesito, cariño - I need you, honey

Arruíname- Ruin me

Tan apretada - So tight

¿Quieres a mi bebe? - Do you want my baby?

Buena chica - Good girl

Vamos, puedes hacerlo - Come on, you can do it

Tan buena, tan buena para mi - So good, so good for me

Mierda - Shit

Gracias, mi vida - Thank you, my life

[reddesires]

Please 🙏🏽 please make a Caesar fic, it can be about anything. Like when he first saw reader or when one of them confessed to each other, anything about him and I’ll be satisfied

Troublesome. [Caeser x Human!Reader]

Implied Caeser x Human!Reader

Summary: Ceaser when he first saw the reader (realizing he's developing feelings).

Rating: No warnings

Fandom: Planet of the apes

A/N: I'm swooning istg isn't Caeser just a charming ol' man, I really enjoyed writing this since I do love me some flirtatious gazes and pining. I hope you like this piece, anon! ❤️

When you appeared in all your human glory, blood smeared on your forehead and an almost primal glint in your eye with all the intent in the world to protect yourself, Caeser was unsure on how to proceed as you were clearly in need of help but your very presence unsettled the colony.

Maurice was more than empathetic on your behalf imploring their leader to aid the poor human, it was obvious you were alone and you must have either encountered rogue humans or wild predators in the wooded area, you seemed unwilling of speaking on it.

After relenting, Caeser was surprised at how settled you became in the colony and even going as far to become a contributing member, keeping close to Maurice and giving a helping hand to the younger apes. You've taken a liking to the peaceful orangutan, feeling as he was the only ally in your time of need, his advocating on your behalf turning a tide for you.

You held a more confident air to you now and it intrigued him as he kept a watchful eye on you more than he did before and it seemed you were aware of his gaze as you weren't afraid of looking back at him, your long lashes fluttering softly as you made show of encasing him with your eyes. He wasn't oblivious to your own intrigue of him, you regarding him and following his movements whenever given the chance.

He felt the fur on his shoulders rise in anticipation at the action, his chest puffing out in response to your interest. He refused to be put off by your boldness, but he couldn't help the preening feeling in the back of his mind.

He hadn't thought of seeking out another mate after the passing of Cornelia, the birth of their second son and leading the colony occupying all his time but the thought crossed his mind as he watched the almost tasteful way your body turned away from him, your stare breaking away from him.

He had no difficulty with admitting that your humanly beauty was appealing to him, after all being reared by humans he always sought their companionship in one way or another and your very presence was a reminder of that.

He felt the tension building in his shoulder as he watched you interact with Cornelius, your expression carrying heavy notes of kindness and compassion as you carried his youngest son, the young chimp's pant hoots showing his excitement of playing with your hair.

You had qualities that appealed to him in numerous ways, and he's unsure if he's willing to act upon that observation. You're carried yourself in such a way that it was compelling to him. He was aware of his status in the colony and how revered he was by all the apes in the colony, but you brought forward a feeling he hasn't felt in awhile, an almost inherent need to display not only his qualities as a leader but also as a potential mate.

He huffs as he watches your gaze slowly trail back up the perch he was standing on..How troublesome..

[ode2rin]

it's all me, just don't go

pairing. itoshi rin x gn!reader

genre. post-argument, hurt/comfort this time (^o^) | fluff too actually (?)

warnings. swearing, and probably a lil ooc rin .. well he's a bit of a loser here (i like loser men) this is also not proofread basically wrote it on a whim T_T i also listened to "afterglow" by taylor swift while writing hehe so it's a bit inspired to that

note. it's the part 2 of this | i'm supposed to be figuring this whole platform out but instead made a part 2 of the rin fic bec he got me in chokehold istg

before you could make up your mind, you felt the door knob twisting, startling you. you froze, heart pounding against your chest. as the door swung open, it revealed a distraught rin hastily trying to wear his coat.

your eyes locked with his, and for a moment, you were both suspended in time.

itoshi rin was not known for being a man of many words, but for you, he rehearsed every possible apology he could think of as he’ll search for you in every street around. he would’ve apologized a hundred times over if it meant you would return home to him. if you’re not ready to come home with him, he’ll leave you alone. he’ll leave the apartment, if it means you’ll stay where he knows you’re safe. he’ll tell you he’ll be good for you. fuck, he’ll be the best for you. he would have changed his ways, toned down his ego, anything to prove his love to you. he’ll tell you anything, just please, for the love of whatever divine forces watching over him, please come home.

he prepared a lot to say, a lot to make up for. he never prepared for a staring contest with you right now. rin’s hands ached to hold you. he wants – needs to fucking hold you so close, feel your warmth and know that you were still his. but every thought and intention he had practiced vanished in the face of your presence, leaving him at a loss for words.

rin saw the hurt in your eyes, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt in his chest. he had hurt you, and seeing the pain written so plainly on your face made him ache inside.

but the hurt in you was no longer remnants of the argument you had, it was because of your lover standing in front of you right now.

as rin’s eyes met yours, you noticed that his eyes were slightly red-rimmed and there was a streak of dried tears in his cheeks.  at the realization that rin had been crying, you felt your heart lay down in pieces. you knew how rin’s mind tends to jump into the brinks of overthinking. he must’ve thought you’re never coming back, hence him leaving the apartment and going after you.

the sight of him was far from what the world thought about itoshi rin. this was no egoist. 

no, this was a man, vulnerable and afraid, his heart laid bare for you to see. 

and in that moment, you knew, no longer a shred of doubt clouding your mind, that you definitely seen past beyond his walls.

you wasted no time breaking the suffocating silence that enveloped you both, your voice low and small as you uttered a timid “hi.” you couldn't bear to look into rin's eyes, instead opting to cast your gaze downward as you tried to form coherent sentences. “i'm sorry for leaving,” you managed to say, your words strained with regret. “i just needed some fresh air, and i thought maybe you wanted some time alone. i'm sorry–”

before you could continue, rin's towering frame engulfed you in a tight embrace. you felt his arms wrap around you protectively, and you couldn't help but lean into him. "you have nothing to apologize for, it was on me," rin murmured, his voice soft and laced with guilt. he wondered why the hell were you even apologizing when you had done nothing wrong but love him, despite being a huge asshole.

you were about to reply, but rin beat you to it, his words tumbling out in a jumbled mess. "i'm so fucking sorry, baby. i didn't mean any of the shit i told you. i'm sorry i hurt you. i lashed out at you for things you never did, and i took it out on you because i was scared over something so fucking lukewarm." you could hear the sniffling between his words, but you didn't mention it, instead burying your face further into his chest as he held you tighter.

rin's grip on you intensified, as if he was afraid he'd lose you if he let go. he took your silence as a cue to cradle your face in his palms and press your foreheads together, his warm breath fanning across your face.

“i’m sorry. i’ll be good to you, y/n. just please, don’t leave..” me. rin couldn't bring himself to say it, the mere thought of losing you driving him to the brink of madness.

he closed his eyes, unwilling to see your face and see a trace of rejection or any thought of you leaving him. for a moment, it felt like rin couldn't even breathe. the silence between you was again suffocating, and he knew he needed to hear something, anything. "please, y/n. say something," he implored, desperation evident in his tone.

“open your eyes, rinnie” at the sound of his nickname rolling off your lips, he hesitantly opened his eyes to look at you. 

glad he did, because you’re smiling. 

it took one smile. one fucking smile from you, and itoshi rin felt he can breathe again. 

“will you let me let you go?” 

“fuck no.”

you let out a small chuckle at the speed of his answer, all with his familiar snarky voice. you placed your hands in his cheeks and you can see the relief wash over rin's face at the gesture. 

he looks at you as if you're his lifeline, and in this moment, you are.

“you better not. because i’m not going anywhere, rin.” you say, your voice filled with conviction.

“i'm never letting you go,” he whispers, his eyes still locked onto yours.

you both stay like that, wrapped in each other's arms, basking in the warmth of your embrace. for the first time in a while, everything feels right.

tomorrow, you know there will be more apologies and a lot of talking. tomorrow, both of you will try harder to be better for each other. and tomorrow, hand in hand, you and rin will face whatever lies ahead.

but tonight, both of you will let your fragile hearts hold on to each other and your frantic minds to be at peace in each other’s arms. tonight, itoshi rin will spend every second convincing himself that you’re his to love and here to stay. tonight, he will love you better.

[papil0nglegs]

Sweet n’ Sour 👛 (pt.2)

Tf2 x “nice”Reader

A/n: Here’s pt.1 if you don’t know what this fic is abt, ik I said I was going to do my own fic after the last one I made but I couldn’t think of anything sooo I’m just doing this. I might do a ‘tf2 x Snooki!Reader’ cuz I just started watching jersey shore and I love it (also you could tell I put my whole heart and ass into snipers section)

warnings: Slut shaming, Reader and Sniper banging, enemies to lovers, hatefuck (sorry this one’s wild)

Pyro

Pyro quickly took a liking to you because of your girly nature, he loved your style

He’s only ever been on your good side, painting nails reading magazines gossiping etc.

He’s such a girls man. No, not a ladies man, a girls man

“Holy fuck! Snooki got arrested”

“Mm mffmm mmm?”

*from jersey shore??

“Yes from jersey shore!!”

Of course you two are duos on the battlefield, skipping happily around the blu teams base as it burns down

Def owns one of those heart friendship necklaces

About him being a girls man, he always makes sure you look good on the battlefield

Loves picking out outfits with you and always carries around something he knows you’ll forget

“Shit! I forgot to put on lipgloss..”

“Mmm mmphm mm?”

*here, cherry bomb right?

“gasp Omg I love you so much 💕”

You and Pyro would have the loving best friend relationship, kissing each others cheek and shit

Doing makeup on mask>>>>

Imagine the fake lashes along w the blush 😭 he loves it

lol put big anime girl eyes on him pls

“You’re fucking chewing right now P.”

“mmm mm!!!”

*thank you!!

Sniper

He hated you when he first saw you omg. Sniper is introverted cuz he got bullied and school, so now he automatically thinks any girl with even a slightly feminine style is bitchy

To be fair you were.. to him

Srry but he got annoyed with you so fast, it started a hefty rivalry between you and snipes

“Where’s princess prissy?”

“Uhm I know you’re not talking about me, at least I actually go down there to fight unlike you in the sidelines.”

It’s always something with you guys istg

He has to admit (but won’t) , he loves watching you destroy the enemy team the way you do from afar. Blood and guts getting in your hair and pretty face. Whenever you catch him staring at you you always give him the finger, makes him chuckle despite how much he ‘hates’ you

Sometimes he has to leave more than piss in his jars

He still kept the enemy streak but it was just to hide his feelings

The mercs get so sick of your guys’s attitude, they practically begged Miss Pauling to send you and sniper off to a mission so they can get a break. She obliged

“Yeah I’m not working with him, sorry! I’d rather go back to juvie than go sleep in his musty van.”

“Bonzy, wouldn’t want to smell your bloody strong perfume all over me van ya whore.”

“I’d rather smell like strong perfume than someone who hangs around piss jars and has coffee breath!!”

Miss Pauling immediately understood why the mercs wanted you guys to go away. And so she forced you to stay in his ‘musty van’ for a week so that you both can go assassinate god knows who. Safe to say it wasn’t an easy trip.

“Ay, I’m gonna go hunt for dinner, you comin’?

“Why the fuck would I wanna go with you?? Bye.”

damn, you didn’t have to end him like that 😭

You felt something when this bitch came back with a 14ft alligator, dragging it by the tail back to the van. You bit your lip staring at him as he wiped the sweat from his forehead

You asked him to hook up, you tried to be subtle but it just turned out uneasy to say the least

“Hey I liked the way you um.. dragged that crocodile back there”

“Chuckle it was a alligator, Sheila”

“Of course you know the difference..”

You blushed, along with him, laughing awkwardly, biting your pink painted thumbnail while he scratched the back of his neck

Cut to you guys waking up naked in his bed all sweaty

Hate fucking or not, now instead of the mercs being annoyed of you hating each other too much, they hate how much you love each other

“Cmon guys not in the goddamn break room..”

“Sorry, I just love his black coffee breath”

“And I love the smell of the perfume I got ya”

“God I fucking hate it when you use Australian slang..”

You still did your thing in the break room

Spy

He has so much hate in his heart for you, and it shows

The difference between him and sniper is that he doesn’t like ANYTHING about you, especially the way you fight

Sure it surprised him when you showed off how you fought, but he didn’t take a liking to it

While trying to sneak up on an enemy sniper, you immediately bashed their head in with your pink hammer. He glared at you so hard

“😐”

“What shitface?? Say something. I got impatient you were taking too long.”

This guy wants nothing to do with you, if you get assigned to a mission together he’ll have his way to sneak out of it.

In the expiration date short you wrote

Fuck you <3

On the paper he handed to everyone along with a drawing of a middle finger for the bucket thing he did

How did he know it was you? You made the hand look exactly like yours, acrylic nails and all.

You and scout started giggling like school girls

“..would anyone else like to insult me??”

soldier slowly raising his hand

Posting on your story in the middle of a battle is such a good way to mess with him, just doing the peace sign while he stays frustrated in the background

‘This old fuck really expects me to kill this big bitch alone 😹😹 Lol he fucking wishes, anyways I’m prob gonna get in trouble bcuz of this but IDRC 💜 #ellieandmasonhouse’

He wants to kill you so bad, sadly you’re one of the most useful mercs on the team. But if you weren’t he’d be so down to kill you

[ph4ngz]

Hey! Since the episode Chigiri calls Isagi attaboy I've been down bad. Hoping I could get something of Chigiri making reader ride his thighs before he fucks them fast as a reward with yk, a mix of attagirl and maybe a little degradation. I'm such a whore for this man istg

Oh, Anon. I've been a whore for this man since the very moment I saw him. Welcome to the club! Hope this was good enough! :D

"Hurry up, I wanna see this." Chigiri tells you with a sinister smirk, arms stretched out to beckon your naked body over to the armchair he's sprawled out on. His toned, strong legs are bouncing with anticipation as you saunter forward at a pace so tantalisingly slow, hesitance flickering within your irises once you're finally straddling one of them. Even as you carefully lower into the awaiting warmth of his lap the expectant movements do not seize, your pretty figure jumping along on top of his clothed thigh. Your untouched clit is lightly dragging over the clean denim of his skinny black jeans, your hands are fisting at the basic sweater he's wearing whilst your features twitch at the slightest hint of stimulation.

"Don't you wanna make me feel nice? Y'don't love me anymore?" his wet lips curl into a childish pout, "come on, harder~" his hushed, cocky beg taunts you, causing your head to drop in an attempt to conceal your flustered expression. God, you feel so exposed! Such lewd words aren't helping, and he refuses to even lay a finger upon your bare skin, which makes it worse tenfold!

"Can't you just..." you pause before lifting your head to face your boyfriend again, the most dangerously adorable puppy dog eyes aimed straight for the bullseye of his heart, "put it inside now?"

Chigiri's eyelids have drooped a little more since you began speaking, long lashes slowly blinking away the lusty blur obscuring his vision each time he looks in your direction. An amused grin tugs at the corners of his kissable lips that are coated in your saliva, sharp canines glinting. It's rather cute when you talk like that, how you hang on to your modesty despite your lack of clothing, despite your position, despite your obvious peeking at the growing bulge between the two of you.

"Woah, I didn't make you out to be such a slut but here we are—" The redhead playfully retorts, scratching the nape of his neck to feign awkwardness until you interrupt with a frustrated tch.

"Fine, Hyoma. Ha-v-ve it your way." you give in with an innocent eyeroll and station a steady grip upon your boyfriend's shoulders, lips quivering when you (begrudgingly) start to grind down on him. Chigiri sighs through his nose, satisfied with your compliance.

"Theeeere we go," he purrs, gladly slinking back into the comfortable armchair, "atta girl."

His slender fingers are so cold when they dance across the warm skin of your hips, flittering up and down. His horny little whimpers, god, they make you feel hot. "Mmn-! Mmmh..." his chest vibrates with every sound he lets escape from the back of his throat. He's loving how heavy your breathing becomes when he suddenly pushes you down by your sides, pulling you harder against him mid-movement.

"Nngh— hah~" you whine as both of your heads knock together lightly, quickened breath intermingling in the small space between your mouths. Then, you hear him sigh again.

"Hhhhhh, these are my favourite pair too. D'ya have to be so messy...?" he asks exasperatingly, and you feel like a vein is about to burst on the side of your head.

"Gah—? You begged me to do this, so-" immediately, you whip your head up with an irritated response, only to be met with his delighted smirk. "Grr...!" you growl inwardly as you drop your head again, swirling your hips with more force before he abruptly squeezes them to still you. A sweet, startled noise leaves you and then, silence.

Chigiri leans in to hover his lips over your ear.

"I get a certain kinda kick outta seeing you get so frustrated with me..." his tongue traces down the shell of your ear, making you shiver. "You know, if you go a little faster," the redhead pauses to lower his voice to a barely audible whisper.

"I'll up the pace even more when I'm fucking your brains out later, yeah?" he smacks your ass with both hands to get you moving again, "alright."

|| || || ||

[vagabond-umlaut]

Honey & Maple Syrup

Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader; Arranged Marriage; Childhood Friendship To Complicated Feelings™️; Flangst; Explicit Smut [P-In-V; Switch!Gojo]; Angst With A Happy Ending; Porn With Feelings™️; Brief Mentions Of Reader Being Mildly Injured In A Mission. This is 18+ Content -> Minors & Ageless Blogs Please DNI!!!

Oneshot From Series: One Day, Three Autumns [Can Be Treated As A Stand-Alone]

Satoru Is So Emotional While Making Love To His Wife. Said WIfe Too Gets Really Soft Very Quickly For Her Husband— Albeit She Knows To Mask Her Emotions Behind Her Incredibly Dumb & Mildly Yandere-ish Jokes. She's Such A Tsundere, ISTG!! [Gojo Has No Problem With That Aspect Of The Reader, Though. Sweet For The Reader, IG...]

Uh-huh, sex with Gojo sure is something else but do you know what's even more of a something else?

Sex with Gojo on the floor of your living room at three in the night— those clothes of yours scattered over the tiny distance from the front door while your husband pounds into you in a frantic rush, tears filled in his blue eyes as his lips slot against yours messily– the moisture on his long lashes dripping onto your wet warm cheeks.

The mission you returned from wasn't too difficult; the blood on your clothes weren't much of yours either. Yet... all it takes this man is one look at you from head to toe, before his sleepy gaze switches into an extremely worried gaze and he pulls you into the safety of your home and into the safety of his arms, then tilting your chin up and claiming your lips in a fiery needy kiss—

Though nowhere as needy as the moan he lets out now, on your legs tightening round his waist and driving his shaft even deeper into the trembling, throbbing, leaking mess you've become down there.

"Nngh, sweetness– p-please!" he whimpers into your ear, sharp nose nuzzling into your temple, as he delivers yet another powerful thrust, drawing a garbled version of his name from your mouth– making the muscles in your body relax yet tense, ache yet tinge in pleasure– "It's so, so tight, fuckk-" he drawls out, rolling his hips against yours. Eyes squeezing tight shut. Lifting his head from beside you, his lips part in yet another throaty moan. "'s sooo good- yea, perfect f'me– aren't ya made for me, my love?"

"Am I?" You inquire softly, relishing in the way he reaches you deep in your walls, filling the hollow; though you keep your eyes wide open to drink in the ethereal glow your man is radiating, in the dim moonlight through the curtains. "I'm makin' you cry— ah, 'Toru—" your guilt gets washed away in a wave of unadulterated pleasure– Gojo's fingers flex around yours on one side of your head, whilst his free hand brushes a tear rolling down your cheek into the cold marble below.

In reverent affection. In adoration, your pleasure-hazy mind whispers.

Two plush lips press into yours before retreating an inch away. "You're perfect, sweetness," Gojo says, slowing his motions a little– an action which makes you move to buck your hips upward, only to be stopped by a large palm covering your waist and holding it in place, "And don't feel guilty for anything– you're too good for me, too precious for me– 'm always scared I might lose you. I... don't want anyone– anything to take you too away from me— you–" his voice assumes a rare tremble; he resumes, moving his hand from your hip to cradle your cheek.

"You do understand that, sweetness— don't you?"

Some other time and you suppose you'll be busy wondering, how on earth this man has that short his recovery time to be blubbering one minute then reassuring you the next— now is no such time, however.

Fresh tears curtaining the steely determination and tender affections in those azure pools of power. Fingers flexing yet again, as if to grasp and engrave the feeling of your fingers intertwined with them forever. Calloused palm caressing your cheeks, gentler than a rose petal.

Your husband— The One And Only Honored One— looking at you as if the only deity he deems is worth believing in is right in front of him, under him— Every strand of his soul worshipping every atom of your being, as if that is the only means he might achieve enlightenment—

You don't know how to deal with the storm of emotions your sudden realizations wreak through your body [one disadvantage of marrying your childhood best friend is how easily you can read him, during an emotionally charged moment, further increasing the weight on your emotions-weary self...]— You do know how to deal with the storm of emotions wreaking havoc in your husband, though. [Count this as an advantage of marrying your childhood best friend— you take quite a great deal of pride in knowing none can read Gojo the way you do.]–

Pulling him down, until his well-defined chest collides with the soft flesh of your breasts, you take advantage of the sudden loss of grip he has on you to flip him onto his back — and lean down, your nose bumping into his and your lips separated in small huffs, being mere yet too much an inch away from his, open in a small shocked circle.

Notwithstanding the dull ache in your calf nor the stinging pain at the apex of your thighs the abrupt change in position has brought along– you smile.

Too much drunk on the emotion you know one must never allow their ridiculous hearts to experience in your line of work; though, you think you can be a hypocrite for tonight– the first and only time in your life.

You press a swift kiss to the corner of his lips. "I'm here, 'Toru and I'll be here, worrying you and annoying you to your wits' ends, till death does us apart– maybe after then too, I'm going to haunt you and the next woman you marry, till she runs away and you're left all alone for me to monopolize again— Heh, sounds like one hell of an antidote to your insanely stupid worries– doesn't it, Satoru?" you ask with a grin.

A huff of a laugh sounds from the addressed man. Raising yourself a little, you narrow your eyes, ready with biting retorts— only to pause on catching the upwards curve slowly forming on his lips— so small yet so blinding in quality, as it grows and stretches, bringing out the adorable dimples in his cheeks, eclipsing the fear and concern in his features by its priceless beauty, you know no fake smile can possess— no matter how bright, how wide, how well-practised they are.

Heart thundering within your chest, you brush away a tear clinging to his eyelashes with a thumb, moving to plant your lips to his face once more.

Ah, well— you tell yourself with a happy little sigh— perhaps, you can be a hypocrite for a bit longer than tonight.

I do not own the characters used. Divider is by @cafekitsune. Please do not plagiarize or translate or repost this. Hope you enjoyed reading this! 😊

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Masterlist

Hope y'all won't mind me tagging you here: @avatarofstars, @shotorus, @4sat0ruu, @ancient-vivarium, @heresan, @poe-daydreams, @konigbabe, @yuujispinkhair, @nanamikentoseyebags [PLS LET ME KNOW IF U WOULD LIKE TO BE REMOVED FROM THE TAGLIST. I WON'T MIND!! PROMISE!! TY FOR YOUR SUPPORT!! 🥰🥰]

[sillyyuserr]

Terukane analysis <33

one of my favorties because it really shows how much they care and more about THEM less about how teru looks at akane or things like that

like i said in my last last LAST post, i wanted to write an analysis on what happened between terukane just before the severance so here i am. Writing this at 8:15pm on a sunday.

after getting back to the ”human realm”, akane realizes aoi isnt there with him, turns around in confusion, and sees teru with a saddened look on his face

Teru looks saddened while explaining what happened to aoi and how she couldnt return

Akane asks if teru knew the whole time, teru confesses to having had known that she wouldnt come back but didnt say anything, leading to akane being very clearly distressed and upset

Akane grabs teru by the shirt/jacket or wtv hes wearing and punches him and shoves him against a wall

Akane’s done with attacking teru, and turns around to try to go back and get her, falls to the ground in pain, his untreated wounds getting worse by the minute, gets back up to get her, teru forces him down, akane’s lying on the ground, disappointed and sad

Yadayadayada idrc what happens after this thats not what we’re focusing on, now that im done with the ridiculously long recap lets break it down further

As seen here, teru is both feeling and looking, extremely guilty. He’s guilty ab not telling akane, but knowing he kind of had to keep it a secret

Something you need to know ab terukane to really understand it, is their relationship is heavily built around their trust in one another so when teru hid how aoi couldnt come back from akane, he was hurt and confused as if he had never seen it coming, like it wasnt even a what if. He knows teru tries to be “perfect” to everyone else, but had never even CONSIDERED that he might lie to HIM. 

The reason this hit like a fucking global pandemic is because akane trusted teru so much he didn’t even think ab the “what ifs” and even if he did, him lying wouldnt even be on there

and since he was really hurt, he lashed out and punched him. Teru knew he was hurt/betrayed and let him punch him, feeling guilty at himself for keeping this from him. Gosh they really do care about one another

As seen here, akane tries to get aoi, but in his damaged state, he literally cannot. Teru knows this, and hurts inside seeing him like this, him having to literally shove him to the ground to stop him.

Akane seems to be at like rock bottom rn. Just lost his childhood bsf and this dude he swears he hates just lied to him ab something this srs. my mans really going through it

Forgot to add but teru looks especially heartbroken here looking at akane, it literally hurts him to do this to akane, but he knew he wouldnt leave aoi there so he did what was best for him, and brought him back. Also not to mention he literally travelled through the most notorious school mystery’s boundary (also the god of fucking death like wdym) just to save akane like what the fuck

teru’s so obvious istg if AidaIro doesnt make terukane canon thats one thing, but if they dont confirm or at least prove in some way teru has a crush on akane, my entire life is a fucking lie

pls give me ideas or stuff ab terukane that you’ve noticed and i havent im running out of analysis ideas 😭😭🙏

[2dmenenthusiast]

"You gonna make me?"

(John Price x Gn!Reader)

Jesus christ I've never finished a fic faster in my life. I'm absolutely feral for this man istg. Also, I 100% don't know shit about sparring or the military. Thank you

Feedback and Reblogs are encouraged and appreciated! <3

Summary: You made a mistake on the field, and your teammate got shot because of it. Safe to say, your Captain is less than happy.

Reader's callsign is Sting

Words: 3.6k

Warnings/Other info: references to injury, blood mentions, lots of fuckin guilt, this is smut free besties, just my mediocre attempt at writing fluff, reader is gender nuetral

The phrase “seeing red” couldn’t begin to describe the white hot rage that seared up your spine and wrapped tight around your neck like a noose. You just got back from a meeting with your Captain, and he had reemed into you like you wouldn’t believe. It was a bad call in the field, completely your fault. Soap got a bullet in the arm because of it, and you couldn’t stop beating yourself up over it. And while your anger directed at yourself was enough to have your fists clenched so tightly that you left crescent shapes in your palms, the reprimanding you got from Price left you vibrating with rage. You were ready to lash out like a cornered, rabid dog, biting at the hand of anyone who reached out. Which is why you found yourself in the training room on base, throwing jabs at the punching bag like it just insulted your mother.

The stinging of your knuckles through your wraps should've been a signal for you to stop and take a rest, but the screaming thoughts in your brain had you persisting, the solid, repetitive thump of skin meeting leather echoing throughout the empty room.

“Woof, remind me not to piss you off.”

You huffed out a breath, movements finally coming to a stop as you rested your palms against the bag. Sweat trickled down your forehead, chest rapidly falling and rising with each chased breath, and Gaz stopped a few feet away from you. A grey muscle tee sat loose on his torso, paired with black gym shorts. You quickly assumed he was here for the same reason you were, and while you had no reason to be mad with him, you couldn’t help but feel frustrated by his presence. You just wanted to be left alone with your thoughts for a few hours, take a long shower, and then go to bed.

“You wanna go a few rounds?”

You raised a brow, fist resting against your hip. “You sure?”

Gaz shrugged. “You look like you need it.”

You let out a humorless chuckle, clapping Gaz on the shoulder as you passed him. Okay, maybe the company didn’t sound so bad anymore. You quickly adjusted your wraps and shifted your neck, feeling the muscles tense and pull. “Just don’t go easy on me, alright?”

Gaz gave you that dazzling white smile, one that would have people stopping in their tracks, but it vanished as soon as it appeared once he came at you. Gaz was young, spry, his speed certainly giving him an upper hand compared to his big and burly comrades. He was light on his feet, easily stepping back when your fist swung out, and he was in your space the next second, hand pushing against the center of your chest and his foot sweeping your ankle. You landed on your back with a thud, the mat breaking most of your fall, and Gaz clapped his hands together.

“Alright, keep gloating Kyle,” you chuckled, grasping his hand when he went to help you up.

“I’m just lucky to catch you off your guard.”

You huffed, lips tilting up in a bitter smile and rubbing the back of your neck. “Yeah, seems like that’s been happening a lot today.”

Gaz’s expression immediately dropped, and he shook his head. “No, hey— I didn’t mean it like that—”

You waved him off. “It’s fine. Let’s go again.” 

You were relieved when he lunged at you without question, and you both moved around one another in a less than graceful dance. Gaz always had your back. Whether it be in the field or on base, he knew what you needed from him, and he was more than willing to let you throw him around a bit to get some of your frustration out. 

And maybe you haven’t thought about it much before now, but you were grateful to consider Kyle a close friend. 

Punches were thrown and blocked, and he actually got you pretty good in your side, the sudden force and the sting afterwards sending a rush through you. By the time he was spent, sweat dripping down his forehead and his limbs feeling the slightest bit of fatigue, you were on your back with his back pressed against your front, arms wrapped around his neck and legs trapping his hips. He struggled to get out of your hold, gripping your forearms and attempting to pull them away, but then there was a loud squeak of the doors opening, and you both paused as your Captain came sauntering in the room.

“That’s enough. Let him go.”

The deep timbre of his voice made a feeling you couldn’t quite place surge through you. It settled deep in your bones like sweet, thick syrup, and the look he pinned you with set your skin ablaze. 

Trembling limbs fell to the ground as you released Gaz, and he stood with a huff and quickly helped you up. His hand clapped against your back in a reassuring manner, his way of trying to cheer you up from the impending doom you were about to face, and he jogged over to Price. They muttered hushed words, shooting quick glances your way. The sight made anger flare up inside of you. What were they talking about? Was it about you? Was it about your royal fuck up today? 

An unintentional growl resounded in your throat, and you began picking at your wraps, the sweat collecting under the fabric making your skin itch. It was only now that you finally took notice of the blood seeping through the cloth, and the sight took your mind back to the field. The shouting. Echoed gunfire. Soap’s blood pooling under your hands and seeping through your fingers as you desperately called for Evac.

“You’re gonna be fine. We're gonna get you outta here, okay?”

It should’ve been you.

A low whistle drew your attention, head snapping up to watch Price as he sauntered towards you. Gaz gave you an anxious smile and a thumbs up from behind him, and you frantically shook your head with widened eyes.

Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go—!

He left.

Dammit!

With a deep sigh, you avoided looking at your superior and walked over to your duffel resting on the bench, rummaging through it to find your water bottle. As soon as the water hit your dry tongue, you desperately took deep gulps of it, some of it spilling out the sides and sliding down your jaw. You finally looked at Price while you capped the flask, catching his gaze follow the water droplets that slid down your neck and under your shirt. You pretend like the sight doesn't shoot blistering heat through you and begin packing away your things.

“What do ya think you’re doing?”

“Leaving. What does it look like?”

If you were anyone else, you’d be scared to talk to him like this. And if you knew what was good for you, you’d reign your attitude in. But you weren’t about to roll over and show your belly, and a sick, masochistic part of you wanted him mad. 

“No. You’re not done yet.”

You barked out a sharp, sarcastic laugh, tossing your things aside and whirling to face Price. He wore that same serious look on his face, eyebrows set deep and his gaze narrowed. You tried not to focus on the crows feet that danced around his eyes, because that’s not what’s important right now and you should be upset with him. Not admiring the little details on his face that you’ve secretly come to love. Or looking at the way his arms flexed when he crossed them over his chest.

“Who says?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “I do.”

Closing the distance, you mimicked his stance. “You gonna make me?”

A smirk spread across his features, and if you had a death wish, you would’ve slapped it right off him.

“Oh, I’ll do more than that, sweetheart.”

The pet name sent tingles down your spine that you refused to acknowledge, replacing those fluttery feelings with the rage you felt bubbling up inside of you. At this point, he wanted you to hit him. And he couldn’t be upset with you if you followed through with it, right?

He gestured with his head. “On the mat, soldier.”

Letting out a disgruntled huff, you reluctantly did as he instructed, like an obedient little dog. He was your Captain, you were supposed to follow orders. But the idea of letting someone yank you around and instruct you like a marionette made your blood boil and the veins in your forehead pop. But another part of you knew deep down that if you really didn’t want this, Price wouldn’t make you. You were just too stubborn to acknowledge it at this moment.

Once you were a good few feet away from him, you got into proper stance, feet spread apart and firmly planted, your weight evenly distributed. He copied your position, nodding his head to let you know he was ready, and you began circling each other. It was a waiting game, the clock ticking down as you anxiously waited for one of you to strike first. And despite everything in you saying to let him come to you, your eagerness and impatience got the better of you.

You lunged first, fist flying towards him which he easily deflected. You hit his solid forearm instead of what you were aiming for, and the quick jab in the same spot Gaz hit earlier had you stepping back with a growl.

“What happened today?” he asked. No. Demanded.

Your jaw clenched tightly, teeth painfully grinding together as you came forward again. “I don’t want to talk about it!”

Price gripped your arm and yanked you forward, spinning you so your back was pressed flush against him, and his arm wrapped around your throat. 

“You were impatient! You ignored a direct order, and it got your teammate a bullet in the process.”

With a strangled cry, you bent your knees and used your weight to push against Price, using the leverage to flip him over your back. He harshly landed on the mat with a pained grunt, and you scrambled to plant yourself on his chest, shins pressing down on his arms and your thighs framing his face. Of course, you’d imagined this scenario once or twice before in the privacy of your own room, but you didn’t picture it happening quite like this.

“So what do you want me to do? Go back in time and fix my mistake?! As much as I’d like to, I can’t!”

His hands came up to grip your thighs, pushing himself up off the mat and slamming you on your back, the air effectively leaving your lungs. His hands were on your hips the next second, flipping you on your stomach so fast that the room spun, and he had you pinned before you could even blink. There was a solid arm pressed harshly against your shoulder blades as Price straddled your hips, using practically all his weight to keep you down. You tried reaching back with your hand to grab ahold of something, anything, but he trapped it in his ironclad grip and pinned it beside your head.

A frustrated noise left you, slamming your fist into the mat as angry tears gathered under your eyes. You knew Price was trying to teach you a lesson, but couldn’t he understand that you’ve already screamed at yourself the exact same words he was throwing at you?!

He leaned down, and the scent of expensive cigars and gunpowder filled your senses. It was like he was slowly taking over every part of you, his touch and his smell seeping into your skin until all you could think about was him. Molten heat surged through you, settling deep in your belly and sending your pulse skyrocketing. You were sure if he placed his fingers just right, Price could feel your heart beating erratically in your wrist.

“You’re a good soldier, Sting. And you know it. Don’t make me regret putting you on my team.”

His gravelly voice was like thick smoke, sending you in a haze as you pressed your forehead to the mat and let your body relax underneath him. You hated to silently give up like this, but your body and your mind was tired. The only place you wanted to be more than underneath your Captain was in your bed.

“Whoa. Am I uh, interrupting somethin’?”

Head snapping up, you spotted Soap by the door, a grin slowly appearing on his face as he leaned against the wall. You were quick to spot the bandage wrapped around his shoulder, and Price lifted off you when you tapped the ground twice. You appeared at his side in less than a second, eyes zeroed in on his wound, and the guilt was eating at you all over again.

“God, Johnny. How are you feeling?”

He shrugged his uninjured shoulder. “Been better. Doctor thinks I’ll pull through.”

He was joking. 

He… had a fucking bullet in him because of you, and he was standing here, smiling and joking with you.

Why?

Why wasn’t he angry? Why wasn’t he cursing and screaming at you? How could he even fucking stand to be around you right now?!

Your head gently shook back and forth, eyes cast towards the ground and your jaw clenching so hard it made your ears ring. “Soap… I’m so sorry. I—”

“Did you put the bullet in my arm?”

Your gaze lifted, his brow raised at you. “Well, I mean, no. But—”

“Then stop worryin’ your pretty head. I should be good for field duty soon enough.” You saw his gaze shift downwards, and his brows knitted in concern. “Though, I think you should be more concerned about yourself there, Sting. Jesus.”

You followed his line of sight and looked down at your hands, blood soaking through the wraps around your knuckles. Rough fingers wrapped around your wrist, gasping when Price suddenly lifted your hand up so he could inspect it. His eyes then landed on your face, and you shrunk under his disappointed stare.

“Bloody hell. Come on, let’s get you sorted out.”

Tugging your hand out of his hold, you gave Soap a tight-lipped smile and brushed past them. By the sound of heavy boots thumping against the floor, you figured Price followed after you.

“And where’d you think you’re going?”

You refused to stop, so bullheaded in that moment that he’d probably have to tackle you to get you quit. “The infirmary.”

You heard his footsteps stop, relief filling you for just a second as you thought he’d finally almost left you alone.

Almost

“Sergeant!” he barked.

His voice stilled you, back straightening like your spine was being pulled up by a string. Silence filled the space between you, and you were hyper aware of your breath filling and leaving your lungs, the sound of it almost too loud for your own ears. When you finally turned to face Price, his intense stare sent a chill through you, and your chest shuddered with an anxious breath when he held up his hand and curled his middle and index finger towards himself. 

With one foot in front of the other, you slowly closed the distance between you two, a million little thoughts running rampant inside your head. Price either didn’t know how intimidating his presence was, or he knew all too well. Either way, the gaze he pinned you with pierced right through you, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d swear he was able to read your mind.

Hopefully not. If he heard what you thought about him late at night—

Shut up!

Stopping just a few feet shy from him, you held his stare for a moment before he turned, gaze falling on his broad back. The way his muscles shifted and flexed under his tight shirt almost stopped you in your tracks, and you scolded yourself for acting like such a lovesick fool before obediently following after him.

Aren’t you supposed to be angry with him?!

Why? All he did was point out your mistake.

A mistake you’ve relived over and over again until you wanna blow your brains out.

When you made it to Price’s office, he opened the door and wordlessly gestured to one of the seats in the room while he rifled through his desk. You sat without complaint, hands gripping your knees and focusing on your bandages splotched with red. When he found his first-aid kit, Price grabbed another chair and slid it in front of yours. His knees gently knocked into yours when he sat down.

“Alright, lemme get a look at you.”

Your fingers flexed, and you lifted one of your hands to place it in his. He was gentle when he gripped the edge of the fabric and began unwrapping your hand, and the stark difference between now and how he was when you were sparring would’ve surprised you if you hadn’t seen this side of John before. He was gentle and kind when he could be, always making sure his team got a proper looking at after missions, scolding you when one of you stubbornly let a wound go untreated. He cared about you, no doubt. Anyone was a fool to think otherwise.

The wraps uncomfortably pulled at the skin around your knuckles, the blood making it stick, and you let out a hiss. Price didn’t pause or stop, and you were grateful for it. You didn’t want him to treat you as weak or take pity on you. Not when you didn’t deserve it. It was only when he was wiping the blood away that you finally spoke after a prolonged silence.

“It should’ve been me.”

Now that gave him pause. The wipe froze against your skin for a split second, and he let out a sigh through his nose as he tossed it into the bin before grabbing a new one.

“And why do you think that?”

You didn’t answer right away, searching around the room as if you’d find the answer residing in a hidden corner. You were ashamed. What if Soap got killed today? How could you live with yourself knowing that his death was your fault? Your hand shook against his, and Price carefully tightened his hold to steady it.

“It was my fault. I should’ve taken the bullet, not him.”

Once Price was done with your left hand, he moved on to the right, giving it the same treatment. He shook his head. “Awful things happen to good soldiers that don’t deserve it every day. You can’t control it.”

“But I—”

“But,” he sighed, thumb gently pressing into the back of your hand, “you need to listen to orders, Sergeant. You’re lucky the bastard didn’t nag ‘im in the head.”

You nodded. “I’ll make it right, Captain.”

Once he was done patching up your hands, you moved to stand, but his hold on your hand didn’t falter. Rather, his hand snuck up your arm and pulled you back down into your chair, his lips quirking up in a small smirk.

“I believe you’re forgettin’ something, darling.”

Your eyes narrowed, leaning an elbow against your knee. You tried to remain tough, but you could feel your resolve turning into mush the more you stared into Price’s eyes. “You still expect me to kiss you after all the shit you said to me today?”

His smirk only grew, and his eyes crinkled up around the edges.

Fuckin’ cute bastard.

“Do I have to order you, soldier?”

You scoffed, pulling your arm out of his grip before suddenly maneuvering onto his lap. His hands immediately found their home on your hips, giving them a possessive squeeze, and you rested your arms against his shoulders.

“I think you can save the powerplay act for later, John,” you muttered.

He mumbled a quiet “Yeah?” as he stared at your lips, the word devolving into a soft sigh once you leaned down and pressed them against his own. Arms wrapped around your waist and squeezed you to John’s chest, your nose gently knocking against his as he chased your lips every time you pulled away. You cupped his face in your hands, and the roughness of his beard tickled your skin.

Could be tickling somewhere else right about now—

Jesus christ, shut up.

Price was always deep and intense when he kissed you, trying to pour every bit of love he had for you in each one. It felt like he stole the breath right out of you, your thoughts swirling and your mind hazy. He knew exactly what to do to turn you into putty in his hands.

“Where is it?” he muttered against your lips, and you reluctantly pulled away with a gasp as you tried to catch your breath.

Reaching under your shirt, you tugged at the chain securely hidden underneath it and pulled it over your head, dropping it into John’s awaiting hand. He smiled, fiddling with the clasp before cool metal slid over your finger.

“You should wear it more.”

Your brows drew together. “I thought you didn’t want to tell anyone?”

“We don’t have to. I just like seein’ it on you.”

Your lips slowly split into a grin, and you looped your arms around your fiancé’s neck. His large hand gently ran up and down your back, sending pleasant chills down your spine. With the way he looked at you, you’d do just about anything for him.

“I’ll wear it all the time then.”

Tagged: @latinxs-himbos-and-cowboysys

[sunnysideaeggs]

hi babes this is my ep 3 review. this is a lil monday tradition i love to yap

lmao rhaenys subtly gagging rhaenyra and calling her out. i’m liking her more and more compared to the first season, she seems more rounded and actually a figure of peace instead of coping

now rhaenyra is coping lol. ‘a little boy murdered in his bed’ ‘but my throonee :((((‘

rhaenyra parentifying rhaena and making her go to her mother’s place of death to safeguard her sons 🙄 not even recognizing the burden she is putting in her. a white woman giving her children to raise to a black girl smh

i like a lot what they’re making with rhaena, giving her actual thoughts that often contradict her ‘side’. go get your hightower husband girl

why no one remembered that larys, yk, the greens’ master of whispers, is lord of harrenhal? like of course it is a green location? where is he? isn’t he a memeber of the council? why does he never attends council meetings?

lmao not daemon wishing to be called king when the proper title is king consort. let me just get a meme:

i just realized that alicent now dresses less ‘richly’ maybe to indicate frugality during war to the people. ‘look, we’re not having feasts while you starve’ kind of vibe. the green queen beloved of the smallfolk

and she is also less structured because she doesn’t need to cover herself for viserys. i enjoy her having the freedom to dress as she likes

as a sansa lover, i must say i love rhaena. go gentle princess with a good who feels everything too much and wears courtesy as a weapon. i love u

if they’re diminishing helaena’s grief and they’re not going to give me helaena taking revenge in dreamfyre istg 🤨🤨🤨

I KNEW THE ARMOR WAS VALYRIAN STEEEEELL 🔥🔥🔥 that’s why it doesn’t fit him it literally isn’t made for him. i hope it’s fireproof

egg promoting his lads 😭 medieval networking

lol larys is the kind of guy that suddenly comes to you with the weirdest true crime facts that leave you feeling icky. i love him

aegon did the alicent disappointed face to his kingsguard. neat party trick

not making baelon cheat on alyssa 🙄 our one successful sibling marriage and they take it from us

tbh if i was dyana you wouldn’t catch a glimpse of me after the meeting with alicent. fuck king’s landing, that stinky city. i would have alicent get me a little house in oldtown. a job as a cook. no chance of any dirty man getting his hands on me. why keep victimizing a character for no reason condal?

any dragonseed should zip it for good, unless you get something for your heritage. my mom was a lyseni whore, that’s what i would say. nobody asks you questions when you say your mom was a lyseni whore

aegon 🙄 i thought we were getting past this. i hope he apologizes, i’m tired of this aemond slander.

i dislike the full frontal scene with aemond. literally gratuitous, no one asked for it. and we know there’s awful people saying shit about ewan’s body, they now get another chance of making fun of his most intimate parts and aemond’s intimate moments. why.

finally some class conscience exploration with criston? are my prayers being answered?

lmao not rhaenyra getting another girl daemon. i dislike baela’s hot head since ever but if it gives me comedic relief i’ll take it

rhaenyra is his father’s daughter. not a compliment

i love how daemon barricades his door just to… open it when he thinks someone wants to get in. and gets out. big forehead not big brain.

MILLY APPEARS YAYYYY 🥰🥰🥰 jaehaerys noooooo 😭😭😭

i could see jae’s actor kinda winking, his little lashes twitching. he’s a baby and he’s doing his best omg 😭💕 it could be the candles tho

yes daemon cry i hate you

imagine you’re a kid and they tell you your job is to be still and have a pretty lady hum at you and touch your cheek. so comforting tbh

ALYS APPARITION YAYYYY 🥰🥰🔥 she’s as stunning and disturbing as i imagined her. devoured. ate him alive. as she should.

lmao of course alicent would think war is to be averted after seeing her grandson without a head 🙄 and if she does she’s dead to me istg

yes rhaenyra threaten a queen 🙄 of course she will react well and think of making peace with you. at gunpoint. classical targaryen.

also she literally smuggled a weapon into a church. threatened to spill blood in a holy place. then ask why people don’t believe you have any morals or respect for anything.

alicent asking her if she’s surrending it’s so funny loool

once again, alicent talks about a child’s murder. rhaenyra brings up the throne. i’m done with her tantrums.

did you betray him at your very last, alicent? don’t you know you owe loyalty to your rapist and jailer, alicent? don’t you know you’re not allowed to want, alicent?

that’s how rhaenyra sounds.

i love how rhaenyra doesn’t spare a thought to surrender yet wants to pretend bloodshed concerns her. lmao.

alicent, i’m back. go green queen.

[martian-astro]

Istg bro, every time I see a video of birds mating rituals, I wish I was a bird instead. Like, yes, spread your light blue wings, bat your long dark lashes, and dance for me. build me a beautiful house with intricate and complex designs to show me just how intelligent you are. Bring me food so I can see just how good of a provider you are. Female birds be eating good man.

[ghostcathedrals]

sports coach toji ://///

basketball

he's the chill coach; honestly worrisome how chill he is even at crucial times when they're trying to beat the quarter clocks. he's so composed even when the gap is widening (regardless if in favor of toji's team or not) that it's insulting to the other team's coach, as if he's belittling the game itself. like it's a practice game.

sports parents, esp. moms ..... i'm sure you know how they regard toji. single coach who spent a good sum of his money during his divorce court trial. anyway. they love him istg they watch the games both for their kids AND their coach

you're his favorite sports parents lmfaoooo

however, he's NOT chill during practices, especially after losing. now, toji's teams have far more winning streaks than losing, so he's usually stricter at the peak of the streaks or right after one loss. he's got that chill look with a sinisterly strict aura underneath.

"you're not yet good if you can't beat me" ⎯ is way too good it takes several practices for his team to catch up. well, good for him ⎯ two students from the male team, geto and gojo, were able to block his attempt for a two-point shot. AND NO NEPOTISM OK but maki's that grade school team point guard who's able to replicate his signature half-court shot. he got her a pair of basketball shoes for that.

megumi way too good for grade schooler but he also credits his vigor to practice on itadori yuuji.

toji too good there are offers being sent to him with higher pay and larger connections (which do attract him) but he said he'll stay because his son likes his school which is in the basic education of geto and gojo's university

toji likes the way you scream when you cheer and imagines if you'd sound just as loud when he (TOOT) you ;))

football

it's obvious hot under the sun on the field so yes he does take off his coach unform and practices with them with only either a muscle tee or a tank top (yes, i refuse to call it wife-beater). sometimes he forgets to take off his chain necklace even tho it's itchy bc god this man gets lazy at the weirdest times possible

oooooo everyone just loves rerouting to pass by the field (same) and then they'd take pictures so at some point college football got too famous bc of the hot coach

so toji's usually more of a verbal socratic coach. during cooldowns or breaks or warmups he makes sure that his players know how to think for themselves so that even if they're in the zone (which renders them on autopilot and when they're disturbed they lose focus abruptly). he has a way of making them calm down when they know what to do. the same method even helped them with their academics holy shit!

he's lazy when demonstrating but when he does omfg pls kick my face idk. important notes to consider are his agility and flexibility; strong physique in general; and quick thinking. even if he slows down to show them, he's still quick.

he does get frustrated bc we all get crankier when it's hot. he doesn't lash out on his players, he almost never did before, but he does lash out at home when megumi's not around lmfao.

and then one time your kid told you to watch his practice (for this your kid is assigned male at birth), so you did, and then you see his coach and all of a sudden your cute kid always sees you at the bleachers side, front row. parent perks.

the japan national team wants him to be the coach but he's like ..... maybe next time when my son joins your team

omfg if you do get together imagine the way he's flexible and he never gets to drain his stamina because it's overwhelming. i feel bad for you. it will be a tough time. i wouldn't just say in bed, but hehe. he'd fuck you anywhere as long as you say yes.

volleyball

ah yes, toji trained the best spiker-setter duo (that's the coach ukai in him) so now he's graduated two top players in the national team who will, sadly, go to separate teams after an intimacy problem which toji tries to be out of (who knows if the conflict was their breakup after college but ended up as teammates lmfao)

can we talk about how insane his spikes would be strong ones, insulting feints, and ooooo the cross court spike 😍😍 and his wrists!! the trajectory changes caused by his littlest techniques!

Thighs.

you take care of yuuji on behalf of his parents so now you're always seeing him and his very very very special friend and yuuji's equally ecstatic sister ⎯ megumi and nobara respectively. who knew megumi had such a hot father like???

toji being a volleyball player/coach makes a lot of sense ykwim he's got that service ace that no one has ever beaten until toji suddenly retired from playing and started coaching instead

home gym 😍

he's got that vacuum-sealed looking shirt every time he's coaching or at the games specifically. i think they put him on screen often for publicity honestly.

they ask him, "you're one of the best coaches of this generation, and the best graduating players were under your wing. what inspires you to keep being so great at your teaching?" and then he looks at the camera, and grins. "there's someone who watches during practice that divides my attention. i know they're watching right now." and then he winks

said person will not be able to walk the day after the winning games.

[hanasnx]

Thoughts on ani getting his hair pulled 👀 does he like it? Does he hate it? Does he hate that he likes it. They gave him such pretty hair in ROTS 😢

ANON. A N O N

they did and they knew what they were doing giving him long pullable hair like that

let me paint the scene for you:

you’re sitting on his lap, having climbed on because your make out session is rising heat with each passing second and you can’t ignore the urge to get closer to him. you don’t notice he’s letting you do as you please with him, his hands faithfully sitting at your hips, fingers running across the bare skin there exposed by your ridden up shirt. you nip at his bottom lip, soft and plump between your teeth. he responds by humming in contentment, chasing your lips to recapture them. he tilts his head, and you cup the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in the hair there at the nape. it earns you another hum— more delighted than the last— and a devious little idea materializes in your head.

his digits dig into the plush of your flesh, pulling you against him to grind. and when he draws his tongue against your mouth, you obediently part for him. reintroducing your tongues in this kiss. you move your fingers up, gathering more of his silken locks against the webbing of your hand. suddenly, you form a fist, and tug. the movement pulls him off your mouth, and the sound he makes is downright sinful. a whiny “oh,” sending a charge shooting down to your core, soothed by grinding down on his hard cock. shaft fitted in between the lips of your pussy through both your clothes.

he gazes at you through his thick lashes, panting. you redirect him by his hair, diving your tongue back to explore his mouth, and he submits to you so readily. when you strategically wait to pull until your tongue slides against his in just the way he likes, it sends him into a frenzy of tingles. his eyes roll into the back of his head, and inhales sharply through his nose as he kisses you with heightening fervor.

“you like that, ani?” you inquire playfully, mumbling against his lips.

again, your reply is low moan in confirmation. it wasn’t something that occurred to him, since it was so simple. he’s still new to everything in this category. sure, he’s thought about pulling your hair, and judging from your reaction you love it, but he’s only discovered his affinity for it now that you’ve put it into practice.

you yank him back by his hair, and his eyebrows upturn into a pleading look, a noise emitting from him that you’d describe as a keen.

“i asked if you like it, ani.”

the way he’d direct your hands on his head from now on to pull his hair when he’s eating you out. locking eyes with you over your pretty mound while hes swiping his face all over your dripping cunt, silently asking you to tug on his hair. let’s him know he’s doing a good job. and when he hums- because your nails on his scalp, and the yank, feels good- it vibrates your hole just the way you like. everyone wins.

istg i was thinking about this the other day but i forgot to write it out bcos honestly i can’t imagine one thing this boy ISNT into. he loves it when you touch him, doesn’t matter what you do to him.

like he wants you to slap, kick, punch, and toss him. tie him up, cuff him, blindfold him, gag him, melt hot wax on him, etc etc (whether or not you actually do those things for him is entirely up to you, but istg he fantasizes about you beating him up and what it’d feel like)

he’s a whiny subby little bitch for you. AND THIS IS A LONG WINDED ANSWER FOR SUCH A SIMPLE QUESTION im so sorry it’s just that i have so much to say about him liking pain. everywhere from a marginal hair tug and yank, to straight up getting whipped because he begged you for weeks to do it to him. i know this man is a masochist and a sadist and it’s a coin flip each day who he wants to be.

[dearausten]

things i noticed while rereading the tenant of wildfell hall (aka my favorite brontë novel) for the third time

- the bromance between gilbert and jack halford (the person he’s writing to, aka his sister’s husband). if i didn’t love gilbert with helen so much, i’d actually go down with this ship.

- i’m DYING to know everything about halford and rose’s relationship, they seem really cute!

- gilbert’s brother, fergus, is actually hilarious. i have never seen someone so dramatic. he’s like “yeah you have to work the land but i gotta look pretty and gossip and that’s actually harder”. also my boy cannot read social cues for the life of him.

- everything from the beginning until we reach helen’s diary. the ANGST. the way he falls in love with her. the way anne brontë gives him a personality and shows us why he is perfect for helen. ALSO THE WAY HE BONDS WITH LITTLE ARTHUR IS ADORABLE.

- just everything about helen. i love her character SO MUCH. she’s so smart, witty, and outspoken. she’s one of the best written female characters ever, no joke.

- the way anne brontë is giving us clues from the beginning! when helen’s aunt gives her advice on marriage, she is unknowingly listing every mistake helen makes in marrying arthur. (not saying what happened is her fault tho!). my girl helen is like “i’d never marry a man without principles just bc i’m horny” and that is exactly what she does! jokes aside, she really did love a arthur, for some reason.

- i had completely forgotten that she was only 18! and arthur huntingdon is said to be 10+ years older than her??????? i completely missed that detail.

- arthur’s manipulation begins even before they get married. the way he knows he’s hurting her when he flirts with annabella and he does exactly that, the way he loves to humiliate her and never thinks of her, only himself... ugh.

- when they do get married, he has the audacity to say that she’s too religious, so she mustn’t love him as much as she says, bc she’s given her heart to the lord. he then proceeds to make the (terrible) point that the only master of women should be their husbands, not god. he only thinks of helen as his possession.

- HOLY SHIT. clearly i can’t have so much time pass before i read this book again bc i had forgotten so many details.

- did i mention i hate arthur’s ass?

- anne brontë does a brilliant job writing the demise of their relationship. it doesn’t happen abruptly. like yes, he was an asshole from day one, but helen didn’t start hating him until the third year of their marriage (still a short time, tho). you can see how much she struggles with loving him while also being awfully aware of his moral flaws, how hard she tries to help him with his drinking problem, how she’s always there for him even though he doesn’t deserve it because he lashes out on her every time he’s upset. a lot happens before she decides she’s had enough of him, and i just love that we see her slowly realize what she’s gotten herself into.

- arthur trying to manipulate her USING THEIR SON is so disgusting. he tries to make her feel bad for spending so much time with their newborn (who he is totally neglecting btw) instead of him.

- i hate you arthur huntingdon. i hate you mr. hargrave. i hate you grimsby. i hate you annabella. i don’t exactly like hattersley but he kinda gets better so he’s forgiven.

- POOR HELEN. she literally thought arthur was finally putting effort into their marriage. every time i read the scene where she finds out about the infidelity i want to cry for her so bad.

- honestly, it’s so badass of her to confront him like that. it took everything in her to control herself and not commit double murder.

- UGH. WHEN ANNABELLA IS TAUNTING HELEN, AND SHE SNAPS ANNABELLA’S MUG BC SHE GOT UNDER HER SKIN AND ARTHUR JUST LAUGHS. istg it makes my blood boil.

- again, POOR HELEN. her finding out about the infidelity was the last straw. arthur stopped pretending to give a damn about her and straight up began to treat her like a piece of crap. i know, he always has, but now he knows how much pain he causes her AND HE PURPOSELY CAUSES HER MORE PAIN. he doesn’t even try to hide it anymore.

- he knows how to hit where it hurts, doesn’t he?

- hargrave is so annoying, but i love how, this way, anne brontë emphasizes why gilbert is a much better match for helen than him. hargrave wants to have her, to dominate her. this goes to say that helen wouldn’t be better off marrying just any other man, but someone who actually takes the time to know her and loves her as an equal, like gilbert.

- ar*ur trying to turn his son against helen is so infuriating. he knows he’s taken everything from her. he knows all she has is her son. he knows how much she loves him, and he wants to take that away too.

- UGH. him and all his friends literally make little arthur, a child, drink as much wine as them. not only that, but ALL OF THEM insult helen in front of him and laugh when he says something that upsets his mother.

- i. cannot. arthur has been neglecting his son since he was born, and only takes an interest on him to teach him how to insult helen and behave like he does, because he knows it drives helen insane.

- thankfully helen is smarter than that son of a bitch and tricks her son into hating wine.

- UGH. AGAIN. when arthur discovers helen’s plan to run away, he doesn’t scream. he doesn’t yell. he MOCKS her. he just stands there with a smile on his face while he takes away her keys AND HE GETS HER PAINTING MATERIALS DESTROYED. OH. MY. GOD.

- once again, arthur knows how to struck a nerve. not only does he completely take away helen’s role as arthur’s educator (something she’s highly invested in) by hiring a governess. HE HIRES HIS FUCKING MISTRESS. i am done. and so is helen.

- SHE’S FREE. i have read this book three times now and i still cannot help to relieve the tension built inside of me when she escapes, as if i didn’t already know what happens.

- a big element to helen’s character is how seriously she takes being a mother. all she does, she does for arthur (her son). she would have stayed with that bastard, and she would’ve willingly suffer the abuse if it weren’t for her son, because he deserves better. no matter what costs her, her son mustn’t grow up like his father. she’d rather her son die by her side, than have him live with huntingdon.

- my poor baby she’s in so much pain :((

- SO. MUCH. ANGST. ANNE BRONTË WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT.

- gilbert making amends with lawrence, as he ought to. we love a man who knows when he’s wrong, and wants to make it better. i think this is the main difference between him and arthur. gilbert, in spite of all his flaws, takes responsibility for his actions, unlike helen’s husband (i can’t even name him). also, he is the only man in the novel who loves helen because HE KNOWS HER, and not bc he wants her to be his possession. he just wants to be with her, and make her happy.

- and the angst goes on and on and on!

- helen tells gilbert he can write to her after six months. he doesn’t. because he figures she’s forgotten about him, and he doesn’t blame her! he is hurt. devastated, really. but he understands. he wants her to heal, first and foremost, after he knows how much she’s suffered.

- i love that the last straw for him is hearing that she’s supposedly getting married. and to hargrave, no less. ngl i would try to keep her away from him too.

- oh, sweet misunderstanding! so happy for lawrence tho.

- WHEN THEY FINALLY GET TOGETHER OMG.

- gilbert is a dumbass lmaoooo, SHE’S TELLING YOU SHES IN LOVE WITH YOU YOU IDIOT.

- THEY KISS! GOD BLESS!

- the ending is easy to savor bc of how sad the rest of the book is. like it’s the ONLY moment we see the characters happy.

- I LOVE THEM YOUR HONOR.

- i LOVE that she had time to heal before marrying again. it’s just so satisfying.

to sum it up, the tenant of wildfell hall is still my fave brontë book. for me, the thing that makes it so special are the characters, especially helen. god, how i felt her pain. she is so strong and i love her so much.

guys, this book is SO IMPORTANT. it was back in the day, and still is now. it truly shows just how vulnerable women were in a marriage, and how they were completely stripped of their freedom and liberty. imagine your life depending absolutely on someone else’s whims! i will leave the rant for another post since this one is long enough. feel free to share what you loved about this book as well! <3

[bitchwhoyoukiddin]

So, Princess Weekes posted a platform-exclusive video all about Endeavor form My Hero Academia. (ISTG, I cannot avoid Enji, and that's fine because he's lived, rent-free, in my brain for the last year.)

I can't link it and you need a Nebula membership to watch it, but if you can and do, I recommend both a membership and tracking the video down. I agree with a whole lot of what she says, especially the central thesis of the video, which is that Endeavor owning his behavior, realizing how shitty it was, and working to change while expecting nothing from his family in return is the actual point. And IDK, it was just really cool to see someone with a platform point that out.

I don't agree with everything she said. I think she missed a lot of the nuance that I like to wallow in. Specifically in that a whole lot of people don't take into account the continued work-related PTSD that Enji took on. He was the #2 hero in Japan for 20 years. That included multiple natural disasters, giant fights, and a ton of rescue and salvage work. As much as we like to pretend that work is work, and home is home, that's just not true. Add in him watching his father's death during a rescue, and Touya's childhood ambition and willingness to hurt himself to be better (I do not blame child!Touya, he was a child), and you get a traumatized, poorly emotionally regulated man in a paternalistic society that deems him incredibly high status. AND, it was heavily indicated that Enji's childhood and very early years were during a time where AFO was heavily in power and there was a ton of chaos both in society and in public/the hero world.

I say this as a child of someone in an incredibly high-stress job, who had lingering CPTSD from military service, but Endeavor's emotional dis-regulation and emotional apathy? WOOF. We'll just say that MHA did an incredibly good job of showing someone who's in a late-career situation without a whole lot of mental health support. And that matters. Because while it doesn't excuse Enji emotionally abusing his children and physically abusing his wife, it does a whole lot of heavy lifting for me in explaining it. Add in that I'm PRETTY SURE no one ever sat Enji down and explained emotional intelligence because he was a Japanese BOY and first son. Like, there's a whole lot there culturally both in Japan AND for men growing up post WW2 in the West.

I also very much disagree with her conclusion re: Touya. But I'll own that I think Touya deserved the fate he got. 100%. Because as much as I can and do sympathize with an abused child lashing out, I'm sorry but he is a grown ass man who made those choices. If we're going to hold people (especially Endeavor) accountable for his own actions? For what he did? We have to do the same for Touya. Period. Enji stood up and took accountability and atonement for what he did. Was Enji an abused child? Likely not, but we don't know. He went through a severe trauma. And continued to do so, as a working first-responder for over twenty years. Touya also deserves to take responsibility for the lives he chose to end. For the damage he chose to inflict. In the same way I get heated about how fans and the Todoroki kids blame Enji for how Rei burned Souto's face? When she herself takes ownership of it from the minute go? Touya deserves to take ownership and agency for the damage he did. Both to himself and others.

What Enji eventually owns what he did to his family. There are explanations, not excuses. Touya 100% deserves to take ownership for his choices and the damage he did. Enji's abuse was an explanation, not an excuse.

(Also, I hope AFO is getting some kind of karma somewhere. Absolutely fuck that guy.)

And that's one area that I very much disagree with in Weekes' video. But then, I think that's a pretty big unpopular opinion in the MHA fandom in the first place.

That said, I am super cheerful Weekes made a video! It was incredibly funny to see it pop up in my feed when I was all "I am mad at how people get Endeavor wrong, HATE HIM FOR THE RIGHT REASONS, DAMMIT!" the night it popped up and I had to wait because I couldn't take another hot take. *cackles*

I'll also say that I very much agree with her that everyone's got the right to feel however they do about Enji. I did cackle when she kind of referenced the "Endeavor is not your dad, stop projecting" post though. That made me cackle outloud and deeply suspect Weekes is hanging out on Tumblr somewhere. (Hi, if you see it!)

[fluentmoviequoter]

Hello!! :3

Just binge read all your Victor Vale works and I'm in love istg. Was wondering if you would wanna do a slightly longer one shot about Victor being really stressed and accidentally lashing out in his sleep and reader calming him down??

Wow, thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed them! I wasn't sure how long you wanted it but I hope this is long enough. This is a great plot and I had a ton of fun writing it! I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!

Warnings: spoilers for Vicious and Vengeful, angst, fluff, canon typical violence/action/danger, brief mention of torture, Victor gets touchy toward the end.

Word Count: 6k+ words (my longest yet!)

Picture from Pinterest

A Comforting Touch

✯3 Months Ago, After Midnight✯

“Scintillating isn’t it?” you ask the man beside you.

He flips his newspaper down, pale skin and intense eyes glaring at you. “What?” he asks.

“The story,” you answer, pointing to the newspaper. “From a hero to a murderer that fast. As if we couldn’t tell from his stupid smile and stupider mask that he was a psycho.”

“Who are we talking about?”

“Eli Ever, the guy in the story you’re reading. Wait, can you read? Or do you just sit behind a newspaper in a black trench coat to look smarter?” you tease, smiling over your cup.

“How long have you been in Merit?” he asks, changing the subject.

“Long enough to know that he wasn’t what he seemed and disappeared frighteningly soon after you arrived.”

“Frighteningly? Then why are you talking to me?”

 “Frightening is not synonymous with uninteresting, my friend.”

His brows draw together as he studies you, a scrutinizing eye traveling up and down your frame and then searching your face.

“You like what you see or is this a Clark Kent x-ray vision thing? Searching my brain for my true intentions, yeah?”

“How much do you know?”

“Let’s just say, Eli Cardale’s research may be a little more widely studied after what he did. I’m sure you know more than anyone since you’re supposed to be dead and he’s rotting in prison for your murder.”

He drops the paper to the table and cocks his head at you. “I’m Victor.”

“And you want me to come with because you’re scared I’ll talk?”

“Something like that.”

✯Present Day✯

“Stop that,” you demand as Victor tosses a dry Sharpie in the trash.

Victor’s hand falters as he reaches for another one, considering listening to you before he uncaps it and continues editing.

“Victor, stop. Seriously,” you repeat, moving closer to him.

When he doesn’t, you reach past him and snatch the marker out of his hand. He turns toward you, his anger leaking out.

“What are you doing?” he snaps.

You point to the television, and his face drops as he reads the breaking news line. Increasing the volume, he avoids looking at you as the reporter speaks.

“The police were praised for their efforts in dismantling the murderous cult operating under the title of ‘EON,’ but that praise is now gone. With the recent discovery of several bodies bearing typical EON torture markings, the government fears that the group, or a new community operating similarly, is acting in our city. More on this story at 6,” the reporter finishes.

Victor clicks the remote, and the screen goes black. He begins pacing, ignorant of your requests to talk to him.

“Victor!” you yell, stepping in front of him.

“Move. This doesn’t concern you.”

“It does now. You going out there? That concerns me. You taking Sydney out there? Also concerns me. So, talk to me,” you respond, stepping toward him.

“You don’t know everything. EON isn’t a threat to you, but it is to us. You’re a liability now,” he seethes.

“Which is my choice,” you argue, still in his face. “Like it or not, I’m here and I’m invested, so get over yourself and talk to me. Let me help.”

“No.”

“Fine. Then I’ll just go. If I’m a liability here, what am I out there? Oh, that’s right, dead.”

Victor’s nostrils flare, nearly unnoticeable. He drops his head toward you.

“You’re brave, but don’t expect me to stay close enough to save you all the time.”

“Oh, I’d never expect that of you.”

You step back and spin on your heel before returning to your room. Sydney passes you in the hallway and can tell by the look in your eye that Victor crossed a line. Which isn’t unusual, she supposes.

“What did you do?” she asks when she sees Victor.

“Nothing.”

“Maybe that’s the problem then.”

Victor agreed to let you tag along because you have a knack for connecting dots that seem unconnected. You know things you shouldn’t and find things too fast. He’s also simultaneously impressed and intimated by your willingness to fight him when he could kill you with a glance. You have no power or protection aside from him, yet you rush into danger with no regard for yourself. Yes, you’re brave but reckless, and when you are not near him, Victor can’t keep you safe.

“EON is back, so she’s not really top of the list right now,” Victor explains, retrieving his stolen marker.

“So? We left Merit and everyone thinks you’re dead. We’re not in danger,” Sydney points out.

“Not right now. But these people aren’t going to give up. Someone knows you’re out there, Mitch is still an escaped convict, record or not, and it’s only a matter of time. We need to find them before they even think to find us.”

“Hurt them first,” Sydney quotes. “But don’t hurt the people closest to you in the process, Vic.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Based on Victor’s calculations, there isn’t much time until EON realizes Sydney is still out there because Eli knew she was. Then, they’ll look for him and eventually figure out that he and his cellmate, Mitch, escaped from prison together before the event in Merit. Several sleepless nights have brought him no closer to finding EON, but now Victor has a new concern. Someone is following them, and he thinks he knows who.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Where was EON before?” you ask.

Mitch answers the question while Victor grumbles something under his breath.

“They didn’t dump bodies, though. So if this new EON or copycats, whatever they are, do dump bodies when they’re done… what makes you sure that it’s EON and not just a serial killer?” you pose.

Mitch tilts his head as he says, “That’s not a bad theory. Without an autopsy report, we can’t know if the torture was the same as EON.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Victor snaps. “EON never tortured EOs exactly the same. Until they found your power, yes, but then it got specific.”

“What about the people who died before they found any powers, or which hopefully didn’t happen, they were wrong, and it was just an ordinary person? Wouldn’t they have identical markings in that case.”

“Or maybe someone reincarnated Jack the Ripper, I get what you’re saying but it’s not helpful,” Victor says.

You nod once at Mitch and round the corner to stand beside him. He has two autopsy reports open, one that has been directly linked to EON and one of the recent victims. Two matching marks are present: a small letter and a number carved into the skin of the victim’s inner wrists. One has an E and 2, the other F and 4.

“Victor?” you ask carefully. “Did Eli have a mark on him before he died? Like a number or word or anything?”

“Why does that matter?” Victor doesn’t look up from his project as he asks. “He’s dead.”

“I know, but if there was a marking or tattoo, anything that could make him stand out,” you trail off.

Victor sighs and curls his right hand into a fist. “I think so. The letter I, but it was lowercase.”

“No number?” you ask.

“Nope.”

“So, I would be…”

“Immortal, invincible?” Mitch suggests.

You nod, and Victor finally looks up.

“What are you saying?” he asks, impatient and irritated.

“EON was marking people with their power and a number,” Mitch answers.

“What’s the number?”

“Well, if Eli didn’t have one, that could mean something,” you point out.

“What are R and E? Those could help us determine what those numbers could mean,” Mitch suggests.

“Show me their files?” you request.

He navigates to all records for ‘E,’ formally known as Riley Garrick. You point to his medical records and then to a hospital report. The file contained a recorded resuscitation after Garrick was electrocuted and died on the table. They used an AED, another electric shock, to get his heart beating normally again.

“Electricity,” you say with Mitch.

“What about F?” you ask.

“Walter Knox,” Mitch reads. “Died and was brought back a few years ago. Death was caused by… freezing. He contracted hypothermia and succumbed before his body temp was brought up and his heart restarted.”

“How was he killed by EON?” you ask.

“Let’s see,” Mitch hums. “He… froze to death.”

“And E, or Garrick?”

“Electrocuted.”

“Then the numbers could be how many times they proved their powers worked before,” you suggest, trailing off again.

“Or how many times they reached the brink and came back, because of their powers, before they didn’t come back,” Victor adds. “It’s not a bad theory. Doesn’t help us find EON though, so congratulations on your waste of time.”

“It wasn’t a waste of time, Vic,” you argue. “Knowing what they’re doing, knowing how they’re doing it, is invaluable.”

“Then where are they?” he asks, looking up at you. “Even just a building type would be more helpful than this. Warehouse? Shipping container? You have no more information than before.”

“Not true. We know that this EON is doing the exact same thing as before. They are experimenting on EOs to find powers and test them to the limit. For all we know, they’re searching for the next Eli and don’t care how many people they kill to get there.”

Victor’s eyes narrow at you before he looks away again.

“You’re welcome,” you say under your breath.

“That’s a lot of information on a couple pictures,” Victor adds. “Makes you wonder how much of it is true and how you figured it out.”

Mitch rolls his eyes, and you shrug before walking out, wondering why Victor is so cranky.

✯✯✯✯✯

“She knows. That’s why she’s right. And you know how she knows? Because she was there, they told her, and now she’s just waiting to lead them to you. You know someone is following you, Vic. Ask yourself when that started, how she got into your life. She’s coming for you.”

Victor wakes up, his skin tingling as pain emits from his body. He turns it off and sits back. It makes sense; you showed up just in time to deal with the return of EON, and you know so much. The dreams are distracting and causing his power to activate involuntarily, so Victor needs to find EON quickly and get the truth from you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Victor is snapping at you, Sydney, and Mitch more than usual. He’s always sarcastic and pushy, but it hasn’t been this bad in the past. 

“Victor?” you ask, stepping into his open bedroom door. “Can we talk?”

He looks up, wide-eyed until he gains control of his expression again. “Sure.”

“Are you okay? You seem really stressed and I hear you walking around at night, so I know you aren’t sleeping much. I’m just- I’m worried about you.”

“Why wouldn’t you be?” he mutters under his breath. “I’m fine,” he says to you. “Just having some trouble sleeping but nothing is wrong.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll sleep better after we find EON, right?” you ask with a small smile.

“Yeah.”

You nod and press your lips together before walking out. He’s not convincing, and you know something else is bothering Victor, but don’t know what. If it’s just EON causing problems, why isn’t he listening when you try to help?

Victor watches you leave and counts your steps to the end of the hall before yawning. He can’t hide the tiredness, but as long as you don’t pick up the stress and growing paranoia hiding beneath it, he’ll be okay. Victor Vale refuses to appear weak; he pushes everything under the surface until he has the answers he craves. Maybe the ghost in his dreams will also return to where it belongs.

✯✯✯✯✯

You begin working through the night, desperate to find answers, hoping it will help Victor. There’s a notebook on your nightstand half-full of possible locations for EON. Then you start wondering if they’re operating from one place or moving around to evade the police. Charting all the listed and possible locations on the map, you zoom out to look for a pattern and gasp as you see the last thing you expect. There is a pattern, and it's nearly complete. One more location and countless bodies, and EON will either be finished with their mission or just starting.

Getting out of bed, you walk to Mitch’s room and knock. He opens the door, and you see the light of his laptop behind him.

“We need to talk,” you say, walking in as he steps back.

He closes the door behind you, and you begin sharing everything you’ve learned.

“I don’t know if knowing where they are is enough, though,” you say.

“You want to know who and why?” Mitch guesses.

“It would be helpful. Otherwise, we’re going in blind. But we also don’t know how much time we’ve had. None of the dates match up, there’s different times between each body dump.”

“Did you check it for a pattern?” Mitch asks. “The locations mean something, right? Maybe the times do, too.”

You sit beside him and read dates as he types everything into a spreadsheet. The months don’t mean anything, and there’s no pattern, so you move on to compare the dates but come up empty there.

“Sorry, I thought there might be something here, too,” Mitch apologizes.

“Wait, Mitch, can you get the numbers for the days between the discoveries?” you ask. He presses a few keys, and a new list of numbers appears. “They’re all below 27,” you cheer.

“It’s a code,” Mitch whispers as he enters the number into a new text box.

The numbers disappear, replaced with letters, as a message is revealed.

“That’s… somehow worse than what I was expecting,” you admit.

“Should we tell Vic?” Mitch asks.

“He’s got enough on his plate.”

“You can’t deal with this alone.”

“Who said I was going alone?” you ask as you walk to the door. “Talk tomorrow, Mitch, thanks for the help.”

“How am I supposed to sleep after what I just read? How are you?”

“Drink some chocolate milk, Mitch. You’ll be alright.”

“And you?”

You shrug as you answer, “I ended up sitting beside Victor for a reason. Maybe this is it.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Victor hears your quiet knock against Mitch’s door before you enter, and the door closes again. He tries to eavesdrop but can only catch a few words. Victor hears something about a pattern, numbers, and going somewhere alone. He also hears that you’re not planning to tell him something. More secrets. Victor returns to his room when he hears you return to Mitch’s door. He knew you were hiding something, but you just confirmed it.

✯✯✯✯✯

Mitch makes breakfast the following morning, and you are the last to wake up and join everyone in the kitchen.

“How’d you sleep?” Mitch asks.

“How’d you sleep?” you parrot, smiling knowingly with dark circles under your eyes.

“Any news about EON?” Victor interjects, his dark circles far more pronounced than yours. He looks exhausted, and if he were younger or easier to convince, you’d force him to take a nap.

“Not much,” you answer. “Maybe you were right and I’m looking in the wrong area. There’s tons of circumstantial evidence but the police can’t do anything with that, so I probably can’t either.”

Victor can physically feel the stress coursing through his veins. His cortisol is trying to kick him into fight mode, but he tamps it down, like every other emotion he covers. He feels your eyes on him and glances over to see your furrowed brows and concerned look.

“Are you okay?” you ask quietly.

“Just as good as the last time you asked. If there’s something I want you to know, I’ll tell you,” Victor answers, plenty of bite to back his bark.

You nod. “Sorry. But I’m here when you’re ready.”

Sydney sees his eyes roll, and the muscles in his jaw tick, but you turn away and miss it. She knows, as well as you do, that he’s sleep-deprived and stressed, but he shouldn’t be taking it out on his team - his family. Maybe he could be convinced to save the stress, anger, and everything else he’s feeling to take on EON. You’d have to convince him, she thinks, because you’re the only one with any ability to get through to him. Whatever forges your connection and gives you some semblance of power against or over him seems to have dissipated with his constant jabs and stressed-out remarks.

Hopefully, it’s not too late. EON needs to be taken down, but not at the cost of Sydney’s family and your presence in her life.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Victor, I know you said to leave it alone, but please try to get some sleep. You’re working hard and we appreciate it more than you can know, but it’s killing you,” you plead.

“I’ll turn off the pain, it’ll be fine,” he argues.

“Then could you do it for me?” you ask, laying a hand on his arm. He flinches but doesn’t shy away from your touch, and a tiny glimmer of hope that you have a chance begins to flicker. “I need you to be okay.”

Victor licks his lips and then nods. “I’ll try.”

You close his door behind you and walk to the end of the hall before pulling your door closed. Victor knows every sound in this place, so you need to be careful about how you move and where you go. Sitting on the couch, you pull your notebook and Mitch’s laptop into your lap. The plan is set in place, and you look over it, preparing to leave. You set everything aside gently, then stand to take a few steps toward your room before turning. Listening closely, you don’t hear movement, so Victor must be asleep or trying to sleep. 

When you reach the door, you place your hand over the knob before falling to your knees.

The pain you’re experiencing is excruciating. Your body wants to give up and pass out, but you must get to Victor. Something is obviously wrong if he’s using his power on you. Mitch’s pained groan grows loud enough that you can hear it, and Sydney whimpers behind her closed door. Dol barks several times as you turn toward Victor’s room.

Beyond the pain, a force is pushing you away from Victor. As you fight to get near him, it feels like swimming against a strong current. Your concern for Victor begins overpowering your pain and fear, and you move as quickly as possible to reach him. When you open the door, he is tossing and turning, his sheets tangled around him as he breathes heavily. You say his name and place a hand on his shoulder before he opens his eyes, and the pain multiplies tenfold.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You know I’m right.”

“I know you’re a ghost,” Victor argues. “I watched you die, Eli.”

“Yet, Victor, here I am. EON is alive and well. It seems that the Eli Ever legacy lives on. If only to torture you.”

“Didn’t do enough of that at Lockland?”

Eli grabs Victor’s shirt and pushes him against a wall. Victor smiles as Eli’s face contorts in pain.

“She is on my side, and you know it.”

“No, I don’t. She’s been on my side since the beginning.”

“She knows too much, and she keeps secrets, Vic. Explain how that is being on your side.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Then ask. Or do what you’re doing now.”

“What I’m doing now?” 

 “Listen, Vic,” Eli whispers.

The air around Victor buzzes as Mitch’s groans and Sydney’s cries infiltrate the calm.

“No, no, no,” Victor repeats to himself.

“Keep this up and you’ll kill her. You have a strong connection to her, which means all of those emotions bottled up in here,” Eli says, pressing a finger over Victor’s heart, “are entering her as inescapable and incurable pain. Way to go, Vic. Angie and this one… you’re building quite the record.” He begins to fade as he adds, “And they called me a serial killer.”

Victor has to wake up. He tries everything until he sees your eyes and flinches back.

You fall back onto the floor, curling in against yourself. “Vic,” you whisper, tears breaking past your waterline.

Forcing yourself onto your knees, you kneel beside his bed and take his hand in both of yours.

“You have to calm down, Vic, it’s okay. Everything is okay,” you soothe him, even though it feels like your body is being ripped apart. “Focus on something else. Whatever happened, forget it. Take some deep breaths.”

You watch Victor’s chest rise and fall, but his eyes stay trained on you. Tracing shapes against his hand, you tell him about the walk you took Dol on last week as he breathes deeply.

His shoulders sag, and the pain disappears immediately, with no lasting aches or symptoms. You stand and reach for the water beside his bed, but he grabs your wrist and stops you. Victor leans forward, his forehead against your stomach, just below your sternum.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, breathing deeply as his hands grip your hips. He’s grounding himself, and you’re happy to let him.

“It’s okay, Vic. It’s over,” you reply quietly. “You scared me. I didn’t know what was happening, just that something was wrong with you.”

Victor shakes his head against your stomach, another apology. You hear footsteps in the hall outside and hear Mitch talking to Sydney.

“I- can you check on them?” Victor asks, looking up at you. His grip on you gently increases as he adds, “And come back?”

“Of course.”

You step out, pulling the door closed behind you. Mitch is in Sydney’s room, comforting her. When she sees you, she looks up with teary eyes and an arm wrapped around Dol.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, kneeling in front of her bed and patting Dol before you take Sydney's hand.

“Scared. Is he alright?” Sydney replies.

“He will be,” you promise, nodding as you look over at Mitch.

He nods once and then gestures toward Sydney, telling you he’ll stay with her while you deal with Victor.

“You’ll make it better, right?” Sydney asks. “He listens to you, and you can help him.”

“I’ll do everything I can, Sydney. I promise.”

You stand, and Mitch mouths, ‘Thank you’ as you step back. Nodding at him again, you pat his shoulder before returning to Victor’s room.

“You’ve been lying to me,” he accuses weakly when you step inside.

“Yes,” you admit, approaching him again.

He doesn’t hesitate to lean toward you and place his hands on you again, keeping you close as you explain.

“I didn’t want to stress you out more, or concern you, or, worse, if I was wrong, make you think you have to do it all alone. Because you don’t always seem to understand or appreciate that you aren’t alone anymore. You have Mitch and Sydney, and-“

“You?” Victor interrupts.

“If you still want me, you absolutely have me.”

“I do. So, what did you lie about?”

“I think I found EON. There was a hidden pattern in the locations of their body dumps. Assuming that they operate nearby, it should be easy to use the missing piece of the pattern to find them before they can kill again.”

“Where should the last location be?”

“An abandoned dock at the marina down south,” you answer. “Part of why I didn’t tell you is that I didn’t know when it would happen.”

“And Mitch?” You furrow your brows, and Victor clarifies, “I heard you go into his room. You found something, didn’t you?”

 “Yes. The dates of discovery, actually the number of days between them, were a code.”

“What kind of code?”

“It translated to a message. Once we read the message, we decided not to tell you because you were already so stressed.” You chuckle as you add, “I realize now that worked oppositely of intended. I made it worse and I’m sorry, Vic.”

“What did the message say?” Victor asks, silently accepting your apology as his finger dips under the hem of your shirt.

You lean into his touch as you answer, “Are you sure you want to know?”

Victor nods, and you press your lips together before telling him, “It was my name and a DOD.”

“A date of death? Yours?”

“Presumably. But it is tomorrow. So, I was going to go to the marina tonight to see if I could catch them off guard.”

“You were going to go alone?”

“I know it’s dumb and I would’ve gotten killed but I was just thinking about you and how I could help you.”

A small bolt of pain shoots through your side where Victor touches you.

“Sorry,” he says, smoothing his palm over the spot. “I just- your connection is different.”

“Is that why I felt like I was dying while Mitch just groaned a little?” you tease.

“I’m so sorry.”

“No, Vic, it’s alright. Now, though, I need you to get back in the game so we can take these new EON goons down.”

Victor nods, tugging you closer as he stands.

“I trust you,” he whispers. “You take the lead since you found everything else.”

“Thank you.”

Victor releases you to step back before asking, “What was the pattern?”

“Eli’s initials: EE. I guess his legacy is living on.”

“Wait,” Victor blurts. “I’ve been seeing him in my dreams. He said the same thing.”

“You’ve been seeing him? Since when?”

“Since we found out about the new EON. Every time he shows up, he tries to convince me that you’re working with them.”

“That’s why you’ve been so defensive. You didn’t want me close because you thought I was an EON spy,” you realize aloud.

“You did know too much,” Victor argues weakly.

“And you never stop to think, ‘Maybe she’s just that good, and that pretty, and that amazing-'“

Victor cuts you off, asking, “What do we do now, good, pretty, amazing leader?”

“You go show Sydney and Mitch that you’re alright and make sure they are, too, then we make a plan to get everyone in and out of the marina to defeat EON forever.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Victor drawls.

You rush out, smiling at his new attention. He trusts you; he’s proved that before, but knowing that you have a different connection is scary and exciting at the same time. Maybe you'll ask him more about that after tonight if your DOD is changed.

✯✯✯✯✯

With Victor’s full attention on you, not as someone he has to protect, but as an equal, you feel prepared to charge into EON and complete your goal. Sydney and Dol aren’t going, but Mitch is driving, and Victor will be inside with you, even if you can’t see him. The dark circles are still prevalent under Victor’s eyes, but the stress lines have nearly disappeared.

“And what if they find you before you want them to?” Mitch asks.

“I can handle them roughing me up. Either way, they’ll all come out and be in one spot for Victor to do his thing.”

Victor’s hand finds yours under the table, and you trace a few shapes onto it. His shoulders drop slightly, even as he argues, “There will be no roughing up. They might lay a finger on you, but I think I can spread the pain out enough that I can get any hidden EONs, too.”

“We don’t want to hurt any EOs,” you point out.

“I don’t think there will be any. That message was specific,” Mitch says.

Your eyes widen as Victor looks at you.

“What exactly did the message say, Mitch?” Victor asks.

“Her name, today’s date as her DOD, cause of death, and the total body count. That body count was only one higher than currently, so it’s just you, unfortunately.”

“What was the cause of death?” Victor asks you, lacing his fingers through yours.

You don’t answer and shake your head at Mitch to discourage him from answering, too.

“Please,” Victor whispers, moving his hand to your wrist.

“Beaten to death,” you say slowly. “Tortured the way every EO before me was.”

“But you’re not an EO.”

“They don’t know that. So, your presence there should be a surprise.”

“If they know about you, they know I’m with you, though,” Victor says.

“Not if I offer to help.”

“Faux treason,” Victor deduces. “I like it.”

“Then let’s do it,” you say, turning to face Victor. “And maybe you can finally get some sleep and de-stress when we get back.”

“Let’s make that the goal.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hello?” you yell as you enter the small building. “I’m looking for EON? I have valuable information about Victor Vale.”

“Well, hello there,” a man says as he steps out from behind a net. “Ain’t you a pretty little thing? Eli would have loved you."

You suppress a shiver and a gag at his comment, opting for a nervous smile. “So, I’m in the right place? I had to go the long way after I left Victor yesterday.”

“Oh, you’re in the right place, sweetness. The man in charge will be glad to hear anything you have to offer.”

“I- sorry, I’m a little nervous,” you say, chuckling as you reluctantly place your hand in his. “What’s your name?”

“We’re all called Ever here. You’ll be the first female Ever, ever. Get it? Anyway, you should be pleased by that. Lord E is very picky in who he chooses to become an Ever.”

You nod, swallowing harshly as the man’s other hand finds your waist. It is a much different feeling than when Victor touches you, but knowing for certain that he’s nearby makes you feel better. A spark of pain occurs under his hand, but only for a breath. He pulls his hand away and furrows his brows at you.

“I think I built up some static electricity, sorry,” you apologize, raising your voice slightly in hopes that Victor will control himself.

“Here we are,” Ever says, flipping a light switch.

The lights go off before men, Evers, carrying candles, enter the room. Two of them lead a man dressed differently to the front of the room, where a large throne is placed. The light comes back on, dimmer than before, and your eyes widen when you see the man.

“Lord E, this woman has information about Victor Vale,” the Ever holding your hand announces.

“She may approach,” the man on the throne, Lord E, calls.

Ever takes a step with you before Lord E adds, “Alone.”

He’s wearing Eli’s clothes, the exact outfit he wore during the bank robbery when he was on the front page of the Merit newspaper. There’s even a few blood stains, all the proof you need that it’s the same outfit or an incredible replica.

“What is your name, girl?” Lord E demands as you reach his throne.

You tell him your name and wait as he looks around.

“And tell me, what do you know of Victor Vale?” he asks. “Come closer,” he demands, extending a scepter to you.

You touch the end with your fingertips and step onto the platform, stopping just before your knees hit his.

“I know a lot. I’ve spent time with Mr. Vale under the impression that I could help him and that I never trusted Eli,” you explain.

Lord E tilts his head up to you, smirking as his eyes travel up and down your body. “Ever,” he calls, “lights.”

The lights go out, and you can no longer see Lord E. You try to stay calm, knowing Victor has control over the situation. When you feel hands on you, however, that calmness evaporates.

“Has he mentioned I’ve been visiting him in his dreams?” Lord E asks, pulling you flush against his body as his hands roam around your waist.

“He did. It scared him, threw him off,” you half lie, trying to lean away from him.

With the lights off, Victor may not have the control he needs to get everyone without getting you to. You don’t care at this point; you only need this guy’s hands off of you.

“Lord E?” you ask. He hums, so you add, “The most important thing I learned about Victor Vale…”

“Go on,” he prods.

You raise your voice so Victor and the Evers can hear you. “Is that Victor Vale will destroy you all.”

Lord E’s hands tighten painfully on your waist as pained screams sound behind you. You step back, twisting out of his grip before you run toward the door. It’s locked, so you stumble through the dark until you find the stairs to the catwalk where Victor should be.

“Find her!” Lord E screams behind you.

“Hey,” Victor whispers before his hands grab your shoulders, “want to get out of here?”

“Yes,” you sigh, taking his offered hand and following him.

You’re blind in the dark, but you don't need to see with Victor leading you. You trust him enough to let him lead the way. He opens a door, and the marina lights illuminate your path to Mitch’s waiting car. You run toward the car, while Victor returns to the building to finish the plan. When he gets in the passenger seat, Mitch begins driving.

“Mission accomplished?” Mitch asks.

“Mission accomplished,” Victor affirms. “EON was taken down by a gas leak, and the coroner should never know they were knocked out by pain before the gas suffocated them.”

In the darkness of the backseat, you rub your hand against your waist, trying to ease the pain caused by Lord E’s grip on you.

“Was it his ghost?” Victor asks quietly.

“I think it might have been. He said he’d been in your dreams.”

“Well, Casper has to find someone new to haunt,” Mitch jokes. “And we’ll be there, too.”

Victor glances over his shoulder at you as your pain disappears. Trusting him was the best decision you’ve ever made, and you’re glad he has decided to trust you, too.

✯✯✯✯✯

Victor offers his hand as he opens your door and keeps your hand in his until you’re back in his room. He sits on the bed and pulls you forward. Gripping the hem of your top, he looks up at you for permission. 

Victor has every reason not to like physical touch, and before today, he never initiated any. Especially not with you. In just a few hours, that has changed forever. He realized how calming and comforting your touch is, and now he will never go back.

As he pushes your shirt up to your ribs, Victor’s jaw clenches as he sees the darkening bruises.

“It’s okay,” you say quietly. “Thanks for saving me.”

“You technically saved me, but no problem,” Victor mutters, running his finger over the skin below the bruise. “It feel okay?”

“Yes, you know it does. You don’t have to numb it, I’ll live.”

“I know.”

“Hey, Vic, next time you get stressed or have trouble sleeping, or anything else, you can talk to me. You need to tell me.”

Victor nods, his hands wandering upward to rest against your ribs.

“I know I’m distracting, but could I get a verbal acknowledgement?” you tease, resting your hands on his arms.

“I promise to talk to you,” he says quietly. “And thank you.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Victor quickly learns he doesn’t have to talk to you; he can survive off your touch alone. He seeks your comfort every chance he has. He’ll link his pinky with yours when you are beside each other. Occasionally, he’ll hold your jacket between his fingers when he’s behind you. Anything to stay close and grounded. Victor’s connection with you extends to his power because, as he explains, your presence in his mind is different, and you evoke unique emotions in him. As long as you are near, Victor doesn’t need to be stressed; he only needs to be with you.