#this is your reminder that i can always get more deranged

[itsdefinitely]

my magnum opus

[santsukii]

oh, how i love you (yandere! stellaron hunters)

cw: all characters separate, spoilers for penacony quest, violence, yandere, stalking, obsession

currently listening to -> shut up, we don’t care - syris

KAFKA •

her love is something violent and horrific hidden behind a pretty mask. she knows she’s a beautiful woman, but she’s already got such a large bounty over her head that it barely matters to her anymore. what’s just one more kill to bring you closer to her? she’s a traditional type of yandere, obsessing over even the smallest detail related to you, memorizing everything from the exact tone of your hair and skin to every single reaction you’ve had to everything she’s ever said or done. everything you like or dislike, she has it memorized. she’d send gifts to your location, though deranged in nature. she’d send you severed and bloody, half rotted limbs torn from her victims with hearts carved in them and your initials together. she knows she’s dangerous, as if the multiple guns and katana she keeps on her person at all times wasn’t enough of an indicator of that. anyone she wants erased from the equation will be gone in an instant, and she would only hesitate for a second to betray her comrades for your sake.

BLADE •

oh, bladie. oh dear, sweet, bladie. how can someone possibly be even more violent than kafka? well, blade doesn’t even try to hide it. he relishes the fact that you’re scared of him, half the time he smiles at all is the deranged giggle he lets out as blood splatters all over his body and clothes. it would clot in his long hair, and he wouldn’t even bother to wash it out until it begins to rot. he doesn’t want to gross you out, just to remind you that you belong to HIM. someone talks to you for even just a little too long, they’ll be gone before the end of the day. he doesn’t enjoy killing in front of you, he doesn’t want his poor baby to see how violent he can get, but he at the very least implies such violent acts of love and passion to you with the blood on him. he’s a stoic man, but he still manages to smile every time he ends another life out of passion for you. he can’t die, so it’s not like it matters if you try to fight back. he will always be back, and you just can’t run from him.

SILVER WOLF •

she chooses the stalker, parasocial route. seeing as she’s a hacker who just views life as a game, this is no different. how much of your affection can she win? how long until you block one of her accounts, and how long until she just begins to stalk you from another one instead? everything from your social media accounts to your damn search history, she has access to it all, so don’t try posting for help because she’ll just delete it. you don’t know how she does it, every time you deactivate an account and make a new one to make it harder for her to find you, she always does. she’s saved all the pictures you post, hell, she’s even made alternate personas just to talk to you sometimes. it’s creepy. she gave up the act of pretending she didn’t always want to see you on her timeline pretty quickly when she realized her obsession with you.

FIREFLY •

to die three deaths is nothing compared to seeing you with someone who isn’t her. never again would she allow herself to be far from you, always only feet behind you in crowds even if you didn’t see her. if someone dares even look at you the wrong way, they can say goodbye to their life in a matter of seconds. such a sweet and innocent girl, never failing to keep her darling close no matter the consequence. don’t you understand, it’s only because she adores you with all she has. her fellow stellaron hunters will simply excuse her actions, chalking it up to a show of affection. once she has you in her arms, she is NEVER letting go. even if she has to be forceful with it, anything for you. absolutely anything. she would never reveal her true identity as a mech-girl to you, because that would only complicate things. as far as you know, your girlfriend is the only one around anymore because all your loved ones seem to just disappear after you talk to them.

[uraniumbones]

For those of you keeping up with the book of Bill and it's accompanying website and the bill cypher backstory. THE PARALLELS GOT ME FUCKED UP.

Spoilers incoming.

people love to talk about the dynamic between Stanford and Bill. Sure, interesting. But you know what people aren't talking about? Stanley and Bill. Specifically referencing the website (thisisnotawebsotedotcom.com)

If you input Stanley a bunch it will eventually open a new document instead of eBay pages. The page mocks Stanley and reveals his secrets or whatever. One of the clickable options on this page is "HOW HE BEAT ME". Each time you click into this is an increasingly deranged meltdown about how it shouldn't have been possible. Calling him a "cheap trick loving, past-denying overgrown child protected from failure only by a force field of denial and shamelessness" among other things. And when further pressed accuses you of acting like "those PREACHY INFANTILIZING AUTOMOTONS AT THE THERAPRISM who are SO OBSESSED with getting me to TALK about my "FEELINGS"." After that he spirals further eventually talking about "how much pain I'm in" and only in code admitting "I can still see through the eyes of everyone I've ever..." presumably killed.

If you don't know shit about Euclydia read the wiki page on it, it's not long. tldr Euclydia is bills home dimension, which he destroyed and killed every single inhabitant of in blood and fire. He did so (accidentally?) in an attempt to show them the third dimension which (because of a genetic mutation) only he had the ability to see (with his eye). Please also note when Stanford asks about his home dimension Bill says it was"destroyed by a monster".

In the website's many documents it repeatedly makes reference to Bill's parents and how much they loved him, his home, his childhood (he wore velcro sneakers it's actually incredibly cute), the ways in which he was different and not easily accepted.

Now knowing all these things. A pattern may emerge to you. Are you seeing it? Are you seeing the patterns yet?

Obviously Bill hates Stanley because he's stupid and still he somehow beat Bill. That's annoying, maddening even. But I believe it goes beyond that. He hates him all the more passionately because Stanley reminds him of himself. The poem at the end of the Stanley password on the website summarizes it best "always dragged his family down / One mistake, disowned, denied, / only thing to do was hide." Destruction of his own family, running and hiding from his own mistakes. "Reinvent, retry, reload" trying again in a new life. "When your actions make it worse, / When they see you as a curse," Making things worse where you have tried to make them better. "Give the wheel one last spin, / Take your chips and go all in" this is what weirdmagedon was for both of them. and this is where their lives differ "And lucky stan- the rolls on black, / he got his life and family back. / His big break it finally came, / Redemption from a life of shame." AND THERE IT IS. Stanley got his family back. Bill didn't. (Which is what it seems he was attempting). Stanley got his redemption. Bill didn't.

Stanley was a lonely kid fuck up just like Bill was. And he absolutely hates Stanley's guts for it because he hates his own guts for it. And all this time they're the same, just trying to fix those mistakes, to have their family back again, to be loved again. They both have this facade of untouchable aloof levity, the same insults Bill hurls at Stanley may as well be hurled at himself. "Protected from his failure only by a force field of denial and shamelessness"? "Cheap trick loving, past denying overgrown child"? You can see Bill goes from being outraged and insulting Stanley, to denying a deeper meaning to those feelings (and calling you a therapist), to talking about how much pain he is in (seemingly over all the people he killed in Euclydia), all without any specific prompting. Just pushing. Bill is the one that connected those things. Bill hates Stanley (at least partially) as an act of self hatred. Because he has made the same mistakes and can never forgive himself for them. AND (at least partially) because Stanley is not only just like him, but now just like him if he had succeeded. Stanley got his "Redemption from a life of shame". and in so doing actively prevented Bills.

Now do you see what I'm saying about THE PARALLELS?!

[hpimagines]

Controlling Tom Riddle

Honestly idk what to classify this as, but it’s kinda like idk.. deranged? maybe not but I have more like this up my sleeve if it does well (TW: manipulation, unspoken gaslighting, extremely controlling, idk what else to add)

You loved Tom. You truly, truly did. But he tended to take the term "I just want to lock you up" a little too seriously.

I mean, it wasn’t much at first, barely even noticeable in fact. Simple things such as suggesting what you should wear, insisting the more modest options were much more flattering on you; “It brings out your eyes, doll.”

He would remind you of your favorite foods, and when to and when not to eat them.. “Not now, it’s far too late for late night snacks. However, I have something I think might suffice for you.”

Overtime the helpful things became him controlling everything you wore, no shirts were allowed to be low enough cut for anyone to see down- tall people included. You wanted to comfortably wear your uniform? Absolutely not. It had to be perfect, and to show just how much of a “good girl” you are for him, you get cute bows in your hair every morning; special spell from him.

His behavior didn’t bother you, how could it? Yes you couldn’t wear certain things, but everything you got in return was amazing. Nobody understands him the way you do, they don’t know him like you do. That’s what you’re constantly telling your friends. “You don’t know him like I do. He’s romantic.”

Romance? It really is funny how blurry the lines get between romance and control, dress up per se? Once again with the dressing you- believe me, he spoils your beyond belief. Though, most of it is “My eyes only.” Slowly your closet went from things you’ve gotten from friends, shirts you once loved, to everything Tom approved.

It didn’t matter though, because he still spoils you.

Being in class was an entirely different story. In the beginning you simply couldn’t speak to any other guys, you understood, not wanting him interacting with girls either it seemed fair. Until you couldn’t sit with any of them, problem being, its not like you can just chose where you sit everytime. That doesn’t matter to Tom though, “You seemed to betray me today hun.” Nice name, yet the tone anything but.

It was pretty sudden when Tom just happened to to become your seating partner in every single class, and yes, that somehow included ones he once hadn’t attended. But this was a good thing. You got to be with your boyfriend all day long, that’s so exciting. Watching your every move, telling you what you did wrong on your work “Can’t have a dumb girl, can I doll?”

It was sweet. He was being helpful, you always had help. Just don’t ask for too much, then that makes you stupid, idiotic, dense. That’s according to him though, and yes his words. “Honestly, I don’t know what you’d do without me, you’re just so mindless most of the time. It’s infuriating”

But no matter what it’s always okay because, “You know I never mean what I say, Love. I’ll take you out, even buy you something new”

You see, none of this happened quickly. It was like one moment you controlled your life, the next moment you didn’t. You lived in his dorm, once again don’t ask how, Tom Riddle has his ways. He chose your outfits the days no uniforms were needed, but of course only because “I just love picking out what my girl wears, you love it too, don’t you, hm?”

Now here you are, unable to speak to anyone really, no boys, no friends because well, they only attract unwanted male attention of course. It was crazy to think you’d leave your friends behind for a boy, not just your friends really more like your entire old life, but Tom wasn’t just any boy. No, he had full control over you and you both knew it. You loved it.

I know im saying idk a lot but idk how i feel about this 😭😭

once again i hope you all enjoy <33

[xxximortalxxx]

As much as you guys hate to admit it, the Five and Lila pairing makes sense and was not at all utter bullshit as you guys are making it seem.

From the time Lila was introduced, she came in as a strong character that's wild, sexy, fun, and a bit deranged. She's a badass character! And what happens? She meets Diego in a point in her life where she was at the height of chaos and adventure. They fall in love, or in a toxic situationship filled with family drama and mother/father issues.

Now let's look at Five. His situation is overall fucked. Imagine being some kid that grew up with space/time travel powers and getting stuck in time, having to grow up pretty much before all of his siblings, and then having to come back in his KID body and still have to fix THEIR problems on top of dealing with his own mental issues that he acquired and loneliness. Reminder that he would not have had a partner due to his inconvenient life/appearance.

Lila and Diego are in this marriage with kids after trying to live a "normal" life. Lila feels stuck because she basically trauma bonded with some guy that happened to be there and was able to put up with her issues and vice versa. Diego was convenient. And from what I see, she really just wanted to make a family she didn't have. Their relationship is kinda out of obligation for their kids at this point, and neither of them are happy.

At this point, Five and Lila get stuck in time together after having previously been on opposite sides but coming together for family sake. From the beginning they matched each other's energy and even I would say they complement each other. They both have explosive personalities filled with sarcasm, snark, and a bit of humor. They both enjoy danger and a rough tussle. That's all they have known.

At this point, both Five and Lila have experienced so much in their lives, so much adventure already. They are ready to settle down, because sometimes love is the adventure you're looking for in this crazy world.

And look I get it. Badass lady is reduced to housewife trope that shouldn't exist unless within character. But can we really say this is out of character for Lila? She always does the unexpected, so her going off to be a spy is what we would expect, for her and Five.

And I also get that you guys think that Five would never betray his family like that. This isn't a perfect world and neither are these characters. If anything, we've seen Five do things for his own self interest over what the family/others want. Same for Lila.

Add in the loneliness of DECADES from Five and the trapped loneliness Lila feels within her marriage, and the fact they they go on another mission together over SEVEN years, mixed with their explosive dynamic and you have a pairing.

And explosion seems to be the theme for this season right? With Ben and Jennifer. Sometimes 2 exlosive chemicals become more stable rather than creating a blast. And maybe each other is what Five and Lila needed. They both understand each other in ways Diego could never understand Lila. Lila also understands Five's predicament like no other, having lived it first hand with him in the Seven years. It's only natural that they would come together. Lila and Diego were eventually going to divorce because they weren't compatible. Lila has always had the most chemistry with Five.

I get the cheating and in no way do I excuse it, but these characters have no idea when they will ever get back home and if. I think they would go absolutely crazy if they didn't have each other. In this time, they realized how similar they are and ended up being a better match. They found what they were looking for in each other. And you can't deny their connection like come on.

In my experience, in the real world, love is messy and not perfect. Sometimes finding love is your next adventure after you've live a life like no other. Maybe this will be good for them.

Also, they writers arent crazy or out of pocket, you guys just need to grow up.

[jasntodds]

Alive | J.T.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Request: yes, here

Summary: Red Hood shows up at your apartment only to reveal he's your not-so-dead boyfriend

Warnings: Swearing, 18+, smut, some fluff, mentions of death, mentions of canon drug use (he's not actually high in this but it's mentioned)

Words: 3,412

A/n: A huge thank you to @tenpintsof-sundrop for the idea 😭 please go check them out if you haven't already!! This kept turning into angst (why can't I just write fluff and smut ffs) which is why it took forever I'm so sorry to the anon who requested this lol but there's no angst!! If you wanna be tagged in my fics, you can click the link below, send me an ask/comment, or follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!!

masterlist | request info | tag list

Gotham’s city lights are the only thing illuminating parts of your room where your curtains don’t quite close all of the way. The sounds of distant sirens and passing cars echo into your room as you’re finally getting some much-needed sleep. Bruce called you three days ago with the news about Jason. Nothing really seems worth the energy anymore, including sleep but tonight it’s as if your body finally caved under the pressure of grief. But, you’re not asleep long before something wakes you up.

You stir awake to the sound of creaking near the window. Your eyes shoot open as you keep on your side, facing the opposite direction. Your heart starts to thunder and you swear you locked that window. It’s Crime Alley in Gotham City, you always lock your door and window. Jason even got you good locks for your window and your door. Someone can’t possibly be breaking in but that’s the only explanation. 

You reach to the side of the bed, slowly, careful not to make quick and harsh movements so whoever is in your home doesn’t realize you’re awake. The metal of the baseball is cold against the palm of your hand as your fingers curl around the handle. It’s not a knife or a gun, but a metal baseball can kill and incapacitate all the same. All you need is one really good swing and you’re good to go. So, you suck on a deep breath, gripping the handle as hard as you can before you sit up quickly, turning around on your knees to face the intruder.

“Get out of my apartment!” You yell, baseball bat swung over your shoulder with your arms ready to swing the second he comes close enough.

He takes a step forward into the light coming from your window and your heart drops. 

Red Hood.

Why the fuck is Red Hood, Gotham’s newest crime lord, standing in your apartment?

“Don’t freak out.” He says, the voice modulator disguising his voice.

You almost laugh at the request. He’s killing people out there and is ruthless but he doesn’t want you to freak out when he’s standing in your bedroom? That makes perfect sense. And why does it have to be your apartment? There are so many other ones he could have picked but it just had to be yours.

Jason is careful as he takes the helmet off, revealing himself to you. Your eyes grow wide as your jaw starts to fall open. Jason can see your grip on the bat start to loosen as his chest starts to swell. He always questioned your choice of a baseball bat, thinking you'd never wake up with enough time to grab it and defend yourself. He's happy he was clearly very wrong.

“You…you died…?” You question, almost certain you’re dreaming.

Bruce Wayne himself called you and told you Jason had been killed. You knew he was Robin and it was all over Gotham City News. Robin had been killed by the Joker. But, Jason Todd is currently standing in front of you, his chest moving with every breath which means he's alive.

He's desperately trying not to think about dying. That's not why he came here anyway. It wasn't to discuss the gorey details of a deranged clown with a bloody crowbar. It was just to see you and let you know he was alive. That is it. No more reminders of dying, not tonight. Not when he isn't high enough to numb the panic or pain of the thoughts. All he wants to do is see you and exist in a moment with just you and him.

“Didn’t stick.” Jason chuckles softly, holding the helmet on his hip.

There’s something Jason would describe as a chortle escapes your lips. “Didn’t stick?”

Jason shrugs his shoulder easily but there’s still some tension wrapped around his bones. “Yeah.” Jason clears his throat, looking to the floor and then back to you, thinking you probably don't believe him. Who would?

“How though?” You ask and you’re not sure how this is real.

Maybe you think you’re actually hallucinating now. Maybe grief has sucked you into insanity. But he sounds just as you remember and he looks the exact same. Jason dying and coming back as Red Hood, still fighting crime in some way, does sound like a very Jason Todd thing to do.

“Gotham.” Jason scoffs. “It’s a long story.” Jason skimps on the details, partially because he doesn’t really know how it works and also just to keep you out of it. He didn’t really like that you knew he was Robin anyway. Too dangerous.

Jason takes a step forward as you watch him closely. Maybe it’s a dream. But, it’s Gotham City and the weirdest and most unbelievable shit tends to happen here.  Jason being resurrected isn’t actually the most insane thing you’ve heard of happening. It's just one of those things that's hard to believe because losing him hurt so bad you swore you'd never recover. You want to be positive it's him before you let your hopes up even if they're rising like a steady tide. Jason can see the hesitance the way your brows are still creased and the bat still hanging over your shoulder.

“Not convinced?” He asks through a shallow breath, his own hopes falling.

He didn't really think of what he'd do if you didn't believe him.

“In my defense, this is insane.” You state as your grip tightens on the bat. "I mean, resurrection or being zombified, kind of insane."

Jason lets out a sigh as he starts listing things only he would know about you and only things you would know about him. He tells you about your first date which wasn’t anything fancy but was yours. He told you about how he has his half of a photobooth picture you two took on your third date as a bookmark. And he tells you about Alred teaching him how to make chocolate chip cookies his first week at Wayne Manor because Jason couldn’t sleep. It was too quiet in the manor.

“I also told you the bat was a shitty idea because you’d never wake up in time to grab it.” Jason offers a smirk.

“Guess you were wrong.” You point out with a teasing look.

“Yeah,” Jason scoffs. “But you didn’t take a swing so…” Jason shrugs his shoulders, a grin splitting his face.

“Haha.” You scrunch your nose with the sarcastic remark. "I'm not gonna just hit someone with a bat." You shake your head dramatically.

"I broke into your apartment?" Jason lets out a chortle "I mean, don't fucking hit me now but someone breaks in, do something, babe."

"Oh, it must really be you because only Jason Todd would criticize my weapon of choice and then criticize what I do about someone breaking in my own apartment." You quip right back as you place a hand on your hip, the bat now hanging loosely over your shoulder being held with just one hand.

Jason's smirk turns softer, a gentle smile pulling at his lips as he looks to the floor and then back to you. "Yeah, it's me." His shoulders move forward as he sucks in a breath, letting it out slowly as if the very act of breathing too hard might make all of this disappear.

Your face softens and as hard as it may be to believe, it has to be him. Everything he listed is all stuff only the two of you would know and the quick quips, Jason never missed a beat. You don't know how or even why he's alive, but it's him. So, you drop the bat to the side of your bed, quickly getting up from your bed. You don't notice how cold the floor is as you run up to Jason, colliding into him with a force study enough to make him step back just so neither of you wall.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you bury your face into his shoulder. He smells different than before but somehow the same. He smells like gunmetal with a mix of the minty shampoo he always used. But, his arms come and wrap tightly around your middle and it all feels the same. His arms are still as sturdy as always and warm. He still feels like home and you do for him, too.

His chest erupts in warmth like a dormant volcano erupting for the time in decades. Every piece of him starts to be encompassed in warmth and a sense of comfort. It's been the longest three days of his life but that doesn't really matter, not right now. It just feels safe here. Between coming back, the drug, and Crane, it's been busy and hectic and heavy. But, he's standing here with you and all he wants to do is focus on this moment because it's not so heavy or loud anymore. You always let him just exist in a way no one else ever did.

Jason's the one that pulls away first but only until you look back at him. The corner of his mouth perks up before he collides his lips with yours. The kiss nearly sucks the breath out of your lungs as your eyes close and your hands tangle in his hair. Jason's grip tightens around you as if he's afraid you'll fall away from him if he lets go.

You can feel him smile against your mouth and it's something that always sent your stomach swirling. Jason Todd genuinely happy is something irreplaceable. And he is always happy to be anywhere near you.

The kiss starts to grow sloppy and desperate, teeth clacking against each other. The happiness of being reunited starts to collide into relief and desperation to never let go again.

Jason's arms loosen just enough to go to your hips, his fingertips sliding under your shirt and digging into your flesh. He's missed the feeling of your skin against his. It's been three days but dying really has made it seem like it's been years and he doesn't want to waste the time he gets anymore. All he wants to do is be with you and you slide his jacket, then hoodie off of the armor.

"Miss me?" Jason asks against your lips and you can feel the devilish smirk that's splitting his face.

"Always." You mutter before Jason tugs your shirt over your head and tosses it to the floor.

In a heartbeat, Jason has you backing up until your knees hit the edge of your bed. The two of you fall onto the soft mattress, Jason bracing the fall for the both you and his lips never leave yours. He slides his leg onto the bed, slotting his knee between your legs right until his thigh meets your wetting slit.

You almost groan at the contact and Jason feels the tremble of your lips against his. And he fucking smirks again.

"Seems like you missed something else, too, huh?" His voice is low but easy with the teasing remark.

"Shut up." You bite back.

It's something about the way he says it that you almost want to bite him and melt under his touch at the same time. Jason has never been one to just let things flow and meet in the middle, he always had to have some sort of comment about it with the corner of his mouth perking upwards. He just can't help himself and maybe you always found it a little bit endearing, even when he's annoying.

Jason pushes his thigh against your slit again and this time he's successful in getting a quiet moan from the back of your throat. The pressure is hot and thick as your underwear start to stick to your pussy. You grind yourself on his thigh and Jason knows he has you exactly where he wants you, not that you would rather be anywhere else right now.

You help Jason tug the armor off and onto the floor, leaving his chest bare and every toned muscle on display. Your mouth practically waters before you yank him back down to you.

He keeps his leg slotted between yours as you slide your hands over the muscles of his back, feeling every raised piece of skin where his back is tensed. His skin is always warm under your fingers. You can't help but glide your fingertips along the skin before digging your nails in.

Jason arches his back, a snarl leaving his throat before his eyes lock with yours. His pupils are blown, black consuming almost every trace of green. So, you do it again as a smirk tugs at your lips because you know that'll get him going. The look he gives you turns feral and hungry as if he hasn't eaten in weeks.

His thigh is pushed harder against your slit, earning him a whimper before he takes it away entirely. There's a triumphant smile on his lips as he raises his brow.

"I can still play the game better than you, babe." Jason teases before he kisses your cheek and moves down to your neck.

"Up for debate." You quip back as his teeth graze your pulse point.

Your heart jumps and you know he can feel it. A snicker falls from his lip before he nips down and starts sucking a purple mark into your skin. A reminder that you're his.

Jason slides his leg back between yours and as if connected by a magnetic force, you don't miss a beat in grinding yourself back on him. Jason scatters just a few more marks across your chest as your breathing becomes quicker, a warm and static pit growing in the pit of your stomach.

"Could just leave now." Jason huffs as he comes back to your lips, sliding a hand between your bodies.

"Don't you dare." Your threat is weak and almost pitiful.

Jason tugs the elastic of your underwear up, exposing your pussy to some of the cool air in the room. You wiggle against him, desperate to feel more than just his thigh. But, then he snaps the elastic back, making you jerk forward and let out a displeased whimper.

"Jay." You scold, a hollowed glare on your face as his face fills with amusement. "Come on." You whine, pushing yourself against his thigh as your hands trail from his back and to the zipper of his pants.

"Since you asked nicely." Jason offers you a toothy grin before he sits up.

Jason reaches for a condom from your nightstand before tugging his pants down and sliding it on. His hands come to your thighs, pulling you to the edge where he can position himself right up to your leaking slit. He nearly licks his lips as he slides a finger through your folds.

"All for me?" Jason asks with a confidence that makes you want to burn from the inside out.

You almost tease him back but you know if you do, he might just plop down next to you and get himself off.

"I missed you." You stick out your bottom lip, offering him a pout.

A rumble comes through his chest as he moves his finger to your clit. You lose all bite and snark from your words as the rest of the room melts away. It's been the longest three days of his life and he's missed you, too.

It's more than this that he misses. You always had a way of making any place feel like home. You always got him to feel comfortable in his own skin even when his own mind was running away with damaged versions of himself. And he's missed the way you go back and forth with him. A lot of people find him obnoxious and sure, you do, too sometimes but you still go back and forth. He's missed the way you always smile at him, with something like warm and kind. It's a relief being alive again, but it's also a relief getting to see you again.

"I missed, you, too." Jason finally says and he pulls his finger away.

Jason grabs his throbbing length in his fist, pumping himself a few times before he lines himself up with your pussy. He pushes forward, slow and steady as he rests a hand beside your head, holding his weight up. You turn your head, offering his forearm a kiss and the feral look in his eyes softens.

As he bottoms out, Jason places his other hand on the other side of your head, bending down to offer a soft kiss to your lips. His chest is heaving, moving rapidly but his lips are gentle against yours.

You slide your hands into his hair and instead of tugging, you wrap your fingers around the messy strands gently, as if happy to have him near you. Jason pulls out and then pushes back in, keeping up a steady rhythm as the two of you seem to savor the moment with each other.

He showed up as Red Hood. In the back of your head, you know he'll probably leave after this. He's not injured and he didn't seem upset. It's not really late which means he probably has something to do after this. Maybe that raises a lump in your throat for a split second because he's Red Hood.

It's not that Jason Todd magically came back from the dead and he's here again. It's that Jason Todd was murdered as Robin and then came back from the dead to be Red Hood, pick up being a vigilante just a more brutal and ruthless version of one. Being a vigilante is dangerous, as was proven just this week but Jaon comes back to go right back in the game. That part is scary.

Your heart skips as you kiss him back and you'll always be worried as he goes out there. Knowing it'll happen again. But, there is a part of you that admires him for it. He gets murdered and instead of quitting, he comes back to fight harder. Maybe that's completely insane but it is admirable. And you're proud of him for it. Worried, sure, but proud of him. So, you savor the way his lips are chapped against yours and the way his thrusts start to become a little quicker and desperate.

"Missed you." Jason mutters against your lips, his voice raspy and staggered.

"I missed you, too." Your voice is caught between a whimper and a whine.

Jason slides his hand between the two of you, finding your clit. His finger is gentle against the bud as your eyes roll back. He quickens his movements, matching the speed of his thrusts. A pit grows deeper in his own stomach as he nips your lip between his teeth.

He gets a low moan from you and he nearly finishes right then and there, his hips almost stalling. But, he recovers quickly, moving his finger in the way that always got you to unravel.

Your hands move to his back, nails digging in as the pressure feeling grows, echoing into your legs and down to your feet. He's pistoning out of you, the sound of skin on skin mixing with your moans and his groans fill the room. You tug him closer to you as you wrap your legs around his waist.

"Jay." You manage to get out as your throat feels like it's closing.

The room spins and Jason is relentless, knowing you're close. You can feel yourself pulsing around his length and you think your head might explode while your heart shoots out of your chest.

"Gonna cum over my cock for me, princess?" Jason drawls, his breath hot against your lips before he moves back to your neck.

"Uh-huh." You sputter out feeling the stars start in the back of your head.

His name falls from your lips loudly and sharply as everything around you explodes into static and stars. Your toes curl as everything starts to shake and convulse against Jason's length. The squeezing of his length sends him falling right off the edge with you, biting down on your neck as the orgasm rips through his body.

Jason works you both through your highs, slowly sitting up but keeping himself inside of you once your legs fall from his waist. He gives you this smile that's a contrast between cheeky and gentle. He bends down and presses a kiss to your forehead, earning a tired but loving smile from you.

"Thanks for stopping by, Jay." Your voice is hoarse but soft.

"Can make it a habit." Jason's grin turns into a smirk, but there's a softness in his eyes.

"Uh-huh, okay, Jay." You roll your eyes, kissing him back.

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[vulpisnocturna]

Binding Vow - Part III

This is the last part of Binding Vow 🤍

Part I

Part II

Read on AO3

I do not condone this behaviour. This is purely fictional. Please read warnings and avoid if you find any of them triggering.

Warnings: Stockholm Syndrome, Chrollo being a pretentious bastard, Chrollo mansplains, Emotional Manipulation, Controlling behaviour, Yandere Chrollo, Kidnapping, Captivity, Reader is struggling, dubcon, NSFW

Word Count: 7.6k

You were insane. You were deranged, and spineless and pathetic. Waking up with Chrollo’s arm holding you to him, possessive and stifling as always, you had actually felt good about it. You, the captive, the prisoner, the trophy possession he had decided to steal for himself. You had liked his touch, and had felt comforted by it. You had wanted the moment to last forever, that feeling of being in Chrollo’s good books and not having to fear for his next move. If you just accepted it, liked the physical reaction of your body, did what he wanted, it was so much easier.

The past two weeks after your escape had almost been... peaceful. Chrollo hadn’t punished you, and so long as you sat on his lap, made out with him and spoke to him, he was gentle, kind and lenient. He was waiting for you to sleep with him, not forcing himself on you, even though you weren’t sure you would even push him away. After all, kissing him felt so disgustingly good. Human contact felt so comforting, and you deserved to feel good, right? You had lived in torment for months now, and now that you had a modicum of normalcy, of happiness, it was normal to want to keep it. It was normal to want Chrollo to be happy. If Chrollo was happy, or whatever the comparable emotion was for someone like him, you were safe, comforted, treated kindly.

But this was Chrollo. Did you really want Chrollo to be happy, to show you that shit-eating smug smirk of his? To get what he wanted?

No. This wasn’t about Chrollo at all. This was about you. You were just looking out for yourself. Escape was impossible, and you would not get any mercy from him a second time even if you tried a second attempt. This was about self-preservation. This was about building a life for yourself with what you had. In that way, wasn’t this also brave?

‘Good morning, my love’ his husky voice reverberated in the crook of your neck, and he placed a gentle kiss on your shoulder, holding you closer, fingertips stroking your stomach. You tensed up a little, but did not attempt to push him away. Good mood. He was still in a good mood. You had learnt to tell his moods apart even though most of the time his face was blank or smug.

He turned you, stroking your hair and smiling at you, his eyes gleaming with some kind of emotion you were unable to name.

‘I was thinking that you have been so good for me lately, darling. I am willing to put behind the whole mistake of your escape if you continue to be so lovely and sweet. And, I was thinking I could take you on a date today. How does that sound?’ he asked, and you tried to contain the way your chest felt light with gratitude. He was willing to take you outside? Apart from your botched plan of escape, you hadn’t been outside for more than two months. You wanted it so badly. You needed it. Needed to see the outside world, needed to stretch your legs, to breathe in the clean air.

‘Uhm- where?’ you asked, still reticent about sounding too enthusiastic. This was still Chrollo, you reminded yourself. Still your kidnapper.

But... he was willing to take you outside. Even if you had tried to escape.

‘If you don’t feel up to it, we’ll stay home, of course. Don’t push yourself’ he said, stroking your cheek. Your breath faltered. No, you needed it.

‘No- I want to!’ you stammered, scared he might just be taunting you. It would destroy you if that was true. But Chrollo simply gave a soft laugh.

‘Relax, darling. I knew it would make you happy. We can go to an art gallery, and then, have some dinner before we come back’ he said, fiddling with the strap of your silk tank top, one of the many flimsy clothes he had bought for you, ‘however, there are some guidelines. They’re non-negotiable. But, if you follow them, you can expect to go on many more outings in the future’

Rules. He was giving you rules. You already had a feel for what he’d say, but you honestly did not care. So long as you got to see the outside world, you would do anything. Besides, trying to escape under his watchful eye would be impossible, especially since escaping when he was supposed to be away for hours had proven itself to be a complete disaster.

‘First, do not try to run from me. You know what would happen if you did. Do not ruin your streak, darling. Second, make no attempts to ask anyone to help you run from me. If you did, I’m afraid I would have to dispose of them, and you do not want that to happen, do you? Third, you must tell me if you are uncomfortable at any point. Do not force yourself to endure discomfort just to be outside. If you wish to go home at any point, we will, no questions asked. Fourth, I want to choose your clothes. It’s only fair, since I know the dress requirements of the place I plan to choose. Alright?’ he said, scanning your face.

You had expected the first two rules, and you did not even question them in your mind. Of course he would say that. But the third? Why would you feel distressed about being outside? It was all you ever needed or wanted. But you supposed you could accept, since it wasn’t going to happen. Chrollo had a nasty habit of picking your outfits anyway, it wouldn’t change anything. As revealing as he could make them, you could put up with it, if it meant you got to go. You doubted his nasty jealousy would allow him to make you go naked outside.

‘Okay’ you only said, and he smiled.

‘Good’ he smiled, kissing your forehead. Again, the fact that you did not flinch surprised you. He had kissed you so much in the past week that now, you saw it as normal. It shouldn’t be. But it was. And it meant you were going outside.

‘We’ll have breakfast outside. I’ll shave and have a shower in the main bathroom. If you wish to have one too, you can use this one. Unless you wish to join me’ he said, voice roguish and tempting, despite the fact that it only brought a grimace and a burning feeling on your face.

‘I’ll take this bathroom’ you muttered sourly. Chrollo did not seem fazed in the slightest as he stretched like a cat and lifted himself off the bed.

‘As you wish, darling’ he said, heading towards the wardrobe. You didn’t even want to see him leer at all the outfits he’d bought you, you didn’t want the anxiety of wondering if he’d pick one of those skimpy skirts that barely covered your ass. So you turned away again, facing the curtains of the wide window that offered a view of the whole city.

‘There. That’s perfect’ you heard, and curiosity (or maybe it was dread?) made you turn again, staring at the sage green dress he’d picked. It was fairly modest for his tastes, you thought. The length was a respectable one, possibly reaching the middle of your thighs, and the top had a cowl neckline that would expose some of your cleavage, but not too much. You were impressed. But perhaps you should have sniffed out the trap, because his other hand was holding matching black bra and panties, both obscene, all lace and barely concealing fabric. You tensed up, your cheeks heating up, mortified rage building up inside you as you glowered at him.

‘Consider this my payment for this date, darling. It’s only my imagination that will benefit from you wearing this, anyway. Unless you plan to seduce me’ he said slyly, smirking at you. You sneered. Of course not. All your physical contact was initiated or brought on by him. You didn’t want Chrollo. You didn’t like him. He was... a prick. He just happened to be unfairly hot. And good at sex.

‘I’m planning no such thing’ you snarled, and he tilted his head, folding the clothes and placing them on the bed.

‘Then I do not see an issue. Of course, you could go without wearing any. Or we could stay home. Your decision’ he said simply, nonchalantly.

Ah. Your decision. The mockery of one, at most.

‘Whatever’ you said, averting your eyes. Chrollo shot you one last look full of yearning before he grabbed a black suit from the wardrobe along with a white shirt and a black tie, exiting the bedroom.

You buried your face in the pillow, unwilling to look too much at the lingerie. Was he genuine when he said it would only be for his imagination? Or did he want you to wear it because he planned to fuck you that night? You hated the tightening of your lower stomach at the thought.

No, you didn’t want it to happen. It was dread, not longing.

You decided to act with the impression that he would not and stood up, snatching the clothes and locking yourself in the bathroom. Chrollo had never walked in on you in the bathroom, for which you were grateful. It was a minimal respect of your privacy, but for someone who crossed almost all of your boundaries with no regard for your say in the matter, it was astounding that he hadn’t picked the bathroom lock to get to you. And perhaps because it was your safest space from him, you had never tried to prolong your time in there or hide in that room, because you did not want him to take away what little privacy you had if he was under the impression you were using it to avoid him.

Perhaps it had to do with his gentlemanly façade, the front he put on, acting as though he was in any way chivalrous. It would ruin that image if he picked the lock of the bathroom to spy on a lady. But coercing her to wear slutty lingerie and keeping her captive were perfectly gallant things to do in his fucked up brain.

Regardless, you were glad to feel somewhat safe as you took off your tank top and shorts, turning the tap and stepping under the shower head. You sighed, trying to make it quick. You found yourself scrubbing and taking extra care in making sure you were pristine, and you hoped you were doing it in some kind of performative ritual because you were going outside and seeing people for the first time in two months and a half, and not because you thought Chrollo was going to see you naked. Although he had already seen you once, and his wandering hands were greedy when he had you on his lap, wearing flimsy silky nightgowns or his shirts. He was like a centipede when he got his hands on you. It felt like he had dozens of them.

When you got out and reluctantly put on the strapless bra and the lacy excuse for underwear he’d chosen, you were both impressed and revolted by the way they both fit you like a glove. How the hell could he know your exact measurements? Though all the clothes he’d ever gotten you always fit perfectly, even though you had never tried any of them before, the fact that he knew the precise measurements of your tits was disconcerting.

And despite how much you might hate him for making you wear that lewd set, you had to admit it was undeniably sexy on you. Which only made you angrier.

You ground your teeth, slipping on the dress he’d chosen, finding that one also fit you perfectly. You even put on mascara and nude lipstick. You got out after drying your hair and putting on the ridiculously expensive perfume he’d bought for you, finding him casually lounging on the armchair by the window, perfectly groomed and dressed. The suit was much classier than his cross-riddled fur coat, and he might even seem a gentleman in it. Well, except for the stupid cloth on his forehead. As out of place and ridiculous as it should have looked, it did nothing to make him look any worse. He only stood out more.

His covetous eyes raked your figure, his lips parting slightly as he stood up, making you feel like prey under his hungry gaze.

‘You look... truly stunning, darling’ he murmured, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist and hips, his lips seeking out yours. You were engulfed by the minty scent of his aftershave and the heady, expensive cologne he always wore, creating a mix that had you squirming in his hold as he kissed you, tongue greedily tracing your lower lip. His mouth traced a feverish line to your throat, and he breathed in, groaning softly, making your thighs press together instinctively.

Was he...?

‘Don’t fear, sweetheart. I won’t trap you beneath me and rip this pretty dress off you... though you are so tempting right now’ he whispered seductively against your ear, teeth nipping at your lobe, and you bit your lip hard, swallowing a whimper.

‘You’re a pretty little thing, you know that? Part of me wants to keep you home and taste your lips again and again’ he continued, hand cupping your ass, squeezing possessively. You swallowed, your eyes widening, pulse shooting up.

‘No- want to go outside- you said-‘ you started, but was shushed by his finger on your lips.

‘I am a man of my word, darling. I said I’d take you on a date, and that is what I’m going to do’ he said, giving you one last heated kiss before he released you.

‘Now, for the finishing touches’ he said, heading to the dresser and opening a box. Gold gleamed between his fingers as he approached you, and you stared at the emerald pendant and matching dangling earrings he had picked up.

‘Did you steal those?’ you murmured, and he let out a soft scoff.

‘Does it matter? Which one would make you feel better?’ he asked, gathering your hair and holding it, his head dipping as you stood in front of the mirror, frozen in place as his lips grazed your nape, sending shivers down your spine with the way his stormy eyes were fixed on you.

‘I guess not’ you breathed, and he smirked, putting the necklace on you and straightening it up on your sternum. Next, he released your hair and put on the earrings. You had to begrudgingly admit they were stunning. But that was to be expected. Chrollo liked to steal beautiful things. According to him, you were one of them.

‘Ready, my love?’ he asked, and you nodded. The shoes that were waiting for you at the door were heels, but luckily, they weren’t too high, and did not look too uncomfortable. Chrollo started to get on his knees, and you grimaced, picking up the heels and sitting on the sofa, putting them on yourself. You also took the dark coat he handed you yourself instead of letting him hold it for you. You refused to be a doll he could just dress up. He nonchalantly smoothed his jacket, seemingly unfazed by your rejection as his aura focused around his hand and his blasted book appeared between his fingers.

You stood next to him, and his hand snaked around your waist, holding you possessively as the lock clicked. The book disappeared, and he guided you outside and towards the lift.

Your fingers were trembling at your sides, and your gaze was greedy as it took in the outside world, the people walking by, your lungs filling with the clean air, your skin basking in the pale sunlight.

Chrollo led you to his car, or at least, the one he was currently using, opening the door for you and insisting on holding your hand as you sat down. He closed it behind you, circling the car and sitting down, immediately locking the door. As tempting as the thought of throwing yourself out of the moving car was, you had no intention of trying to escape, but you knew he would always take precautions anyway. Perhaps it was part of the reason why escaping him was impossible.

He drove through the city centre with a hand steady on your thigh except for when he had to change gear, but you could hardly care. Your gaze was fixed on the window, drinking in the buildings, the shops fleeting by, the statues and houses and the people walking on the pavement.

He parked in an underground parking space next to the gallery, once again feigning chivalry as he opened your door and helped you outside. You let him, because you did not want to cut your time short. You wanted to make the most of this day.

There were a lot of people in line, and to your surprise, Chrollo calmly walked to the end of it and stood there, patiently waiting. You stood next to him, feeling oddly breathless, as though your ribcage had tightened. So many people. You hadn’t seen so many people for so long. Their chattering was loud, they moved around you and you couldn’t keep an eye on all of them. Had being a captive ingrained in you the need to keep a watchful gaze on everyone around you?

You felt slightly nauseous.

‘Everything alright, darling?’ Chrollo’s voice came to you slightly muffled, and you swallowed, nodding quickly, terrified he would take you back home if you showed any sign of discomfort.

‘Too many people?’ he offered, and you focused on a spot far away under the stone arcades.

‘No. I’m fine’ you said much too quickly, your legs feeling slightly weak, to the point you had to lean on Chrollo. Was this why he’d chosen to stay in the line whilst he could have paid to skip it? Just to show you that you needed him in the crowd? To take you back home? You forced yourself to stand tall and by yourself, but Chrollo had already tightened his hold on you, trapping your side to his.

‘I wouldn’t want you to fall, dearest. We can still go home, you know’ he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. You gritted your teeth.

‘No’ you hissed, your throat tightening when you heard how hostile your tone sounded, ‘please. I want to stay, Chrollo’ you added, sweetening your voice, knowing his ego always adored the sound of your begging.

‘Hmh... you’ll need to stay close to me, dear. You seem quite fragile at the moment, so I will need you to hold onto me’ he said, his eyes smug and his smirk self-satisfied.

You pressed your lips together, wishing you could debate with him, tell him no, but his rule and the fact that he had the last say were vivid in your mind. It was his fleeting satisfaction over a day of joy for you.

You leaned against him again, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.

He kissed the top of your head, rubbing your upper arm, moving along the line. Minutes passed, and Chrollo did not seem to want to let you go, and you did not seem to want to admit to yourself that his closeness, his stable presence holding you in the swarming crowd was reassuring.

You breathed a sigh of relief when you reached the ticket box. Chrollo bought two tickets for the exhibit, leading you towards the first room. You lost yourself reading the brochure, flicking through the different exhibits, your eyes nearly popping out of your skull as they set on Van Gogh. One of your favourite painters, and apparently, most of his artworks were now here for a short time. Had Chrollo known?

‘That is the first smile you’ve shown me that reaches your pretty eyes’ he said, his eyes glinting with some kind of genuine fondness as he stared at you.

‘You knew?’ you whispered, struggling to believe he would do something genuinely nice for you. Not something Chrollo liked, something you liked.

‘That you have a predilection for Van Gogh, or that his paintings would be here? Of course, to both’ he said, and you stared at him, suspicion extending its tendrils in your mind.

‘Are you... planning to steal them?’ you asked, eyes narrowed. Chrollo smirked, tilting his chin up and glancing at you with a sardonic look in his grey eyes.

‘Why? Would you like a specific one? I could arrange that’ he said easily, and you shook your head, disbelieving.

‘No- of course not’ you muttered.

‘A pity. If it gifted me another pretty smile, I would steal all of his paintings’ he said with something akin to reverence, stopping in the middle of the empty room to stroke your cheek, staring intently at you.

‘That’s- wrong’ you stammered, trying to vanquish his stupidly romantic display of affection. He was completely without morals nor did he have any sane conceptions of what was acceptable to do for something as trivial as a smile.

‘Why? Numerous museums have stolen artwork throughout the centuries, and somehow, that is moral? None of these museums paid Van Gogh for his artistry. They are fair game’ he said smoothly, and you stared at him, blinking in disbelief.

‘To you, everything is fair game’ you said. Chrollo smiled, fingers curling on your waist, under your unbuttoned coat.

‘Darling, you are so straitlaced. When you can appreciate something more than the masses, you are entitled to take it for yourself. Beautiful things deserve the right amount of appreciation, which most people cannot provide’ he said, and you had a vague idea of what he was really talking about in more detailed terms as he leaned over you, eyes gleaming with self-assurance.

‘Do you think any of these inane, mediocre individuals could truly love you? See your beauty, appreciate you, know you like I do? I am the only one who can truly give you what you deserve. I can give you anything’ he said in a soft, fervent voice, kissing your cheek, making your head spin with his delusional world views and the headiness of his tone.

‘Do you remember when I fucked you, darling? Of course you do. You were begging and whining for me, for my fingers, my tongue, my cock. Do you think any of these people would know how to fuck you like I do? How to make you scream and sob with need? Or maybe you don’t remember too well. But I will remind you soon. It might be tomorrow, in a few days, a week from now, but you will see. There is so much I want to do to you’ he was practically purring in your ear, voice low and inebriating, full of sinful promises that made your heart drum in your ears and your lower stomach hot with want.

Tomorrow? A few days? Then- he was going to fuck you soon. You felt dizzy, and you were not wholly convinced it was from dread.

‘You’re a creep’ you mouthed, terrified of his effect on you. If you’d been religious, you’d have thought he really was Lucifer incarnate. The temptation of the most beautiful of God’s angels really did feel real when Chrollo made it known what he wanted to do to you.

‘Oh? You think I can’t hear you mewl in your sleep, darling? God, if you knew how much control I need to exert to keep from burying my head between your thighs. Do you dream of me, my love?’ he continued, and your eyes widened, your heart skipping a beat as ferocious shame gripped your throat. No, he was bluffing. You couldn’t have... if he knew-

‘Of my ex’ you said, because he was humiliating you and you couldn’t bear his smug grin and the satisfaction and hunger you could hear in his voice.

Chrollo’s grip on you tightened, and he straightened up, his eyes burning with jealousy, but his lips curled in a nasty smirk.

‘Little liar. We’ll see’ he said, voice thick as honey, and you shivered, hugging your body as you went to look at the paintings. Chrollo followed you leisurely, like a shadow. It was as though there was a string connecting the two of you. Where you went, he was right behind you, if not already touching you.

The paintings in the first five rooms were the oldest, with gold painted on religious imagery, ugly infants and static anatomy. Still, your eyes drank the paintings in like you were dying of thirst, looking for the beauty in a world where Chrollo was the dealer of what you were allowed to see.

When you stopped for more than half a minute to stare at a painting, you had already walked through ten rooms, ignoring Chrollo’s pretentious chiming in with random historical facts and art lessons.

It was beautiful. No. That wasn’t right. It was petrifying. “Judith beheads Holofernes”, the silver plate read next to it. Artemisia Gentileschi. A woman.

There were two women and a man in the painting. One of the women was holding down the man onto a bed, whilst the other one was in the middle of slicing his head with a sword.

The world seemed to stand still as your eyes wandered around the canvas, taking in the colours, the skill, the beauty of it. But it wasn’t the artistic skills of that painting that mesmerised you. No, it was the rage. It was the sheer disgust, revulsion and fury that seeped through the blood trickling down the mattress and spurting in the air, spattering her dress. Punishment. Vengeance.

‘How macabre’ chimed in Chrollo, obviously unperturbed by the gore of the painting, ‘I did not know you had a bloodthirsty side to you, darling’

You ignored him. You’d felt that rage. That need for retribution. You knew what it was for.

‘I hope you’re not picturing doing that to me’ he said, and then sighed, stroking your hair, ‘Artemisia Gentileschi. She was raped by her father’s friend, and though she was tortured, she maintained her story throughout the trial that followed, which resulted in the conviction of her rapist. Her paintings do seem to reflect her exacting vengeance on him’

You looked at the woman in the painting, silently recognising her strength, standing in awe of it.

‘I could steal it for you if you like it so. Though I would not want you to get fanciful ideas’ he said. You couldn’t help but scoff. You could not say you were in the same position as Artemisia had been, but you understood the sentiment well. At times, you had wanted to behead Chrollo with a broadsword and bathe in his blood.

Who would have guessed that now, he was your only source of solace. That you did not shy away from his touch, that you dreamt of it.

‘I’d rather you stole me a broadsword’

‘As captivating as the sight of you brandishing one would be, I’m afraid I cannot do that’ he said, and you nodded absentmindedly. Obviously.

Chrollo bought breakfast at the art café, and you resumed the visit after that.

But nothing else captured your mind like that one painting. Well, until you got to the room where Van Gogh’s painting were displayed. If Artemisia’s paintings had filled you with respect and petrified you with their rage, Van Gogh rooted you to the spot with the sheer emotion of his art.

You could not stop yourself from smiling, and your eyes shone bright. You didn’t even care that Chrollo was staring at you like a hawk.

Again he offered to steal them for you. You denied wanting that, telling him that you wanted as many people as possible to bask in the beauty of them, and that you wanted them to acknowledge a painter who had never been appreciated in his lifetime.

‘You are so sweet, my love’ he said, holding you to him.

You weren’t sure you would not find Van Gogh’s sunflowers staring at you the next morning.

By the time you were finished with the visit, you were ecstatic. Yes, you had had to endure Chrollo’s centipede hands throughout the day, but you had seen so much, and felt alive. And he hadn’t even been too stifling.

‘I- thank you, Chrollo’ you said once you were back in the car, hoping this would happen again. He turned to you, staring at you, his usually cold grey eyes shining with warmth, his smile, for once, genuine.

‘It was my pleasure, darling’ he said, capturing your lips in a soft kiss, devoid of the hunger that usually seeped through them. One that, if you ignored the past two months and a half, would have you swooning.

He smiled against your lips, planting a kiss on your forehead and pulling out of the parking spot.

The restaurant he’d chosen was just as luxurious as you had expected from someone like him. He sat in front of you in the secluded booth, reading the menu. You did the same, tempted to get the most expensive thing just to put an indent in his wallet. Though it probably would be pocket change to him. And if not, he could always arrange stealing something to make up for the loss.

He ordered Cabernet, and you considered getting drunk to make the date with your kidnapper less awkward. But you didn’t think he’d let you down too many glasses of wine.

Still, you sipped it avidly, glaring at him when he scoffed.

‘Darling, am I such bad company that you have to drown your sorrows in wine?’ he asked, clearly a rhetorical question.

‘Yes’ you said, and he let out a soft laugh.

‘Are you sure you want to inhibit your senses around me? Considering I’m such bad company?’ he mused, sipping his wine, his pretty lips stained blood red. You put the glass down, scowling and going back to deciding what you wanted to eat.

You settled for steak, surprised to see he ordered the same. You had expected him to get something pompous like lobster.

The meal was undeniably amazing, even though Chrollo had taken it upon himself to interview you about what you’d thought of all the paintings, clearly trying to exhibit his own knowledge, which turned into you trying to one-up him. That might also have been a ploy from his part to get you to argue with him.

‘Interesting. When you’re not so nervous, you’re quite self-assured, darling. Perhaps the thought of being seen as less knowledgeable than I am is unbearable in your mind. Is it to do with sexism? I assure you, the fact that you’re a woman makes no difference to me in terms of your intelligence. Which is, of course, of the highest degree’ he said, and you groaned, staring at him and taking another gulp of Cabernet, even though no amount of wine could save you from him dissecting your brain and being pretentious.

‘Don’t psychoanalyse me. And stop trying to be a feminist icon to impress me. It rings hollow after what you have done’ you said, thinking yourself bold with your quips. Perhaps you should settle down. After all, this was still your mass murdering captor.

‘Ah. I treat you with the highest regard, my love. It wounds me to hear you be so bitter when this day made you so happy. Have I not earned some affection from your part by spoiling you today? Perhaps you need more from me’ his eyes took a lustful light, and you squirmed, shutting up. Which only earned you a smirk.

Once the bottle of wine had been finished, Chrollo got you water, claiming he did not want you to get drunk. You eyed the price on the bill, astonished that one meal could cost so much. But he merely swiped his card and closed the leather case that hid it from view, standing up and offering you his hand. You got up, walking with him outside.

The ride home was fairly silent, because you did not look forward to be back not knowing when you would get another chance at seeing the outside world, and Chrollo was focused on driving and palming your lower thigh. You looked at the sunset, lost in the orange and purple hues, completely enraptured by the beauty of it. It would be nice to stay out for a while longer, but you knew not to push the buttons. He had said art gallery and dinner, and that was what you had done. Now it was time to go home.

You wondered if he would make you sit on his lap and kiss him again tonight, as he’d done since your escape attempt. Somehow, the thought made you hot all over. Well, he had certainly seemed keen enough at the gallery, you thought, your cheeks hot.

Chrollo parked the car, leading you to the lift and back to the flat, where he locked the door with his stupid book and discarded his coat, taking yours off. You slipped off your heels, your feet sore from a day of wearing them, and started to head to the bathroom to change. If he wanted to make out with you, he could wait for you to get comfortable, as loosely as that word could be used in such a situation.

You had made it to the bedroom when Chrollo caged you in his arms, pulling you into him from behind you, getting your hair out of the way to leave languid kisses on your neck, his hands splayed on your stomach. You stopped dead in your tracks, giggling nervously, already feeling the effects of the wine and Chrollo’s touch getting to you.

‘Uhm- let me change-‘ you muttered, your eyes fluttering close when he started sucking on the junction of your clavicle.

‘There’s no need. I’ll peel it off you soon enough, darling’ he breathed against your ear, voice intoxicating, deep and sultry, and you squirmed, your heart rate going through the roof with the realisation that he wanted to sleep with you now. God.

No, you had to push him away. That was the right thing to do, right? He was... Chrollo, and his tongue was following your artery, and it felt like hell and heaven had combined, and you couldn’t think...

‘I’m tired of waiting. I am going to show you just what I can make you feel, darling. I’ll be so good to you’ he said breathily, hands cupping your breasts, fingers grazing your stiffening nipples. You choked a whimper, torn between the overwhelming pleasure and the equally crushing shame.

He groaned against you, pushing himself against your ass, earning another strangled yelp from you when you felt the hard bulge of his erection against it.

He whispered your name like a prayer, turning your head and kissing you hungrily, teeth sinking in your bottom lip, sucking, licking while he fisted your hair and turned you around, pulling you more into him.

Your mind seemed to shut off completely, taken over by the desire that had accumulated in weeks of torturing make-out sessions with no reprieve, to the point where your body was burning and aching for his touch, and nothing else mattered except the taste of wine in his mouth and the grip he had on you.

He pulled back, pupils dilated and eyes dark with lust, gaze lingering on your lips as he pulled down the zipper on your ribcage, greedily devouring you with a mere stare as you stood there, rapt and consumed by desire, your mind a blur.

He lowered the straps of your dress, pulling it down until it pooled at your feet. You burnt as his eyes trailed down your body, shameless and ravenous.

‘That’s even better than what I had imagined. Oh, darling, if you knew...’ he groaned, his hands immediately splaying on the expanse of your back, trailing down to squeeze and knead your ass harshly while his mouth was busy sucking on your neck, making you whimper as you clung to his shoulders.

He pushed you towards the bed, pulling you on his lap. You straddled him, utterly deranged with pleasure as he licked the valley of your breasts, grinding you on his lap. You let out a moan, pulling at his hair, which only made him rougher as he slapped your ass and gripped it, sending a surge of pleasure to your clit.

‘Get on your knees for me, darling. I want those pretty lips wrapped around my cock’ he groaned against your ear, and you swallowed, shame making your face burn. It was one thing to go with the flow and let him do things to you, quite another to actively pleasure him. But you would be a liar if you said the thought did not make you wet. And it was all unfair and humiliating and yet, and yet...

You pressed your lips together, yelping when your bra ripped under his hands and he threw it away.

‘I’ll buy you another one’ he groaned, pinching your nipples and sucking one into his feverish mouth, grazing it with his teeth until you were rutting against him, your hands cradling his head.

‘On your knees now, sweetheart’ he pressed, and you breathed in shakily, lowering yourself from his lap onto the floor, swallowing your shame as Chrollo stared down at you, taking off his jacket and shirt, unbuttoning his trousers and pulling his cock out, stroking it in his hand. Degrading as it was, infuriating as it was, he was so unfairly attractive. From the expanse of his toned stomach to the thick cock in front of you to the unruly hair that framed his face and the lust-laden grey eyes boring into you.

He let go of his cock to gather your hair into his fist, stroking your cheek and your bottom lip, pushing his thumb inside. You hesitantly sucked it, pressing your tongue against it, and he smirked, eyes gleaming with ravenous lust as he pulled it away and you wrapped your much smaller hand around the base of his cock, unable to touch your fingers with your thumb.

You stroked him, looking up at him as you tentatively licked the slit at the tip, and he let out a soft moan, his lips parting as his fingers tightened around your hair.

Emboldened by his reaction, you wrapped your lips around the reddened tip, tongue twirling around it.

‘Good girl, keep your eyes on me’ he breathed, looking dishevelled for the first time as you sank further in, licking the underside of his cock, hollowing your cheeks.

‘Fuck’ he groaned, his hips twitching, to the point where he reached the back of your throat and you choked a little, breathing hard through your nose. You weren’t even two thirds of the way in.

‘You can take it, darling. You’re doing so well. You look ravishing’ he praised, and you pushed a little more, tears starting to sting in your eyes, your lips wet with saliva as you struggled to keep your eyes on him.

You got a little more used to his size, and you managed to take a little more. What you couldn’t take with your mouth you made up for with your hand, rotating it slightly as you pulled back and forth on him, watching him start to breathe more unevenly, his eyes narrowed, the skin of his neck slightly flushed.

‘That’s my girl. You’re such a pretty little slut for me. I knew it’ he taunted, and despite yourself, you couldn’t help but moan, continuing to pleasure him though it killed your pride.

He started to guide your head, not too forcefully, but he was definitely getting more eager as you picked up the pace and sank to his pelvis, tearing a breathless moan from him that made your panties even more soaked than they already were.

‘Oh, darling. My good girl. Fuck- I’m close. Keep going, and swallow, m’kay? Going to make you feel so good after, I promise’ he huffed out, and you hollowed your cheeks, struggling to breathe, tears running down your face as you kept going, until he stilled, his eyes closing, head facing the ceiling as he came in your mouth with a soft moan.

You swallowed heavily, panting as he slipped out of your mouth. He stared at you for a few seconds, his lips parted, his eyes narrowed with pleasure, before he pulled you up by your arm and threw you underneath him on the bed, kissing you, his hands roving down your body.

‘Such a good girl- let me return the favour, my dear’ he breathed, sucking on your nipples, straying down your stomach and spreading your thighs. You stared at him, panting and hot all over as he pressed his nose against your clit, licking a wet stripe along your labia over the wet lace of your panties. You let out a breathless moan, hips jerking against him, and he let out a soft groan, smirking at you.

‘How I missed this’ he murmured, pulling on your panties until they ripped, clearly unfamiliar with just slipping them off. But your quips were soon forgotten when he flung one leg on his shoulder and dipped his tongue inside you, kneading your ass as he flicked your clit and rolled it in his tongue.

You pulled at his hair, your hands catching onto the cloth of his forehead, which fell on you. He tossed it away, sucking on your clit, his hand snaking between your thighs, two fingers dipping inside you and curling, making you arch your back and let out a loud moan.

He started thrusting his fingers in and out, dragging them along your walls, his mouth keenly occupied with your clit, until you couldn’t take it anymore and started convulsing underneath him, trembling as he pinned you down and forced you through the most intense orgasm of your life.

He switched his mouth and fingers, his tongue slipping inside you, tasting you, his fingers rubbing and rolling your clit through the comedown of your orgasm, until you pushed him away when you started feeling too sensitive.

He wiped his chin with his mouth, sucking his fingers clean and smirking at you, the picture of debauchery as he gave you a sultry look.

He took off the remainder of his clothes, turning you on your stomach and lifting your hips.

‘Does my pet want a rough fucking? You deserve it, after all. You’ve been so patient, squirming on my lap for weeks’ he said against your ear, gripping your hip, his free hand wrapped around your throat.

You only moaned, and he must have been satisfied, because he pushed inside you, tearing a loud whine from you and a grunt from him.

‘Fuck, darling. You’re just made for me, aren’t you? Look at how you’re taking my cock, sucking it in, throbbing around it’ he murmured, immediately bottoming out and thrusting back in unrelentingly, making you tremble underneath him, your head dizzy, your face pressed against the mattress as he pounded into you, pressing into your g-spot straightaway, making you whine and keen for him. It was too much, all at once. You felt him everywhere, consuming you, making you see stars.

‘Chrollo- fuck- too much’ you sobbed, but he did not relent. He slammed against you with reckless abandon, long fingers still wrapped around your throat, his pants and groans echoing your louder cries.

‘You can take it, little slut. You’re my little slut, mh? Your pretty little cunt’s squeezing around me... could it be that you like that, darling? How filthy’ he taunted, but he sounded breathless and full of desire, and it made you feel obscene, yes, but also so so wanted. You had secretly longed for this for weeks, and now, you needed to feel him, needed to cum so badly.

But he slipped out of you and turned you on your back, slipping back into your sopping cunt and lifting your knees to your chest, pressing his body over you.

‘Fuck- Ahh- gonna cum!’ you sobbed, the new position rendering you completely helpless to his rough fucking that pressed against your g-spot and grazed your cervix, making you quiver underneath him.

‘Cum for me, darling. Show me how much you need me to fuck you’ he breathed, and you thrashed your head side to side, tears disappearing on either side of your hair, your mouth open in a silent scream as you came undone, seeing white, sounds fading completely around you, leaving you feeling only pleasure for a moment that felt like several minutes.

Chrollo grunted, cursing loudly, pressing his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss and drowning your moans as his hips stuttered, his rhythm breaking, his fingers curling on your flesh, sure to leave bruises as you felt warmth flood inside you.

He continued to push for a few seconds, head buried in the crook of your neck before he stopped moving. Your legs collapsed on the bed, and you struggled to calm your breathing, your throat dry, your arms loose around his back.

He rolled over to his back next to you, his breath starting to come out evenly even though you were still panting.

‘You were perfect, darling’ he murmured, stroking your hair, pulling you into his arms. You stared at the open window, the night skyline staring back at you with its blue lights and orangey glow from the windows of the buildings on the other side of the street.

Was this a life you could live? You did not know. The only thing you knew was that Chrollo had won.

[serialkilluh1996]

☣Persuasion☣

Mean crush-Konig x Virgin-female-reader

You've finally convinced your inconsiderate crush to sleep with you, but it's not quite to your advantage. However, you were far too desperate to back out.

Warnings: smut, edging, pussyjob, that's abt it. Contact me if I need to add more.

This is old, and written by a minor, so it's probably gonna look weird compared to my other fics.

You had a crush on Konig. Not a healthy, "Oh, I think he's cute" kind of crush.

More of a "I'm begging on my hands and knees for you to let me suck you off" kind of crush. Konig knew this, and gave you a myriad of cute little nicknames for it. "Pathetic", "Lapdog", "desperate weirdo". How romantic😊

He was this tall, buff, massive Colonel, and you? You were just his desperate admirer who lacked self respect and sexual experience.

Even with all the times he'd rejected you and your failed attempts at being flirtatious, you never gave up.

He called it "pestering", you called it "ambitious". You were gonna fight for what you wanted, no matter how worthless it made you look.

Konig looked at you with folded arms as you hovered naked above him,  legs on either side of him as you held an embarrassed expression. You had finally convinced Konig to have sex with you. Well, sort of. Certain rules applied.

Rules such as: "You're not allowed to stick it in." He reminds you, letting you know just how far he was willing to let this small arrangement go. That, and he wasn't actually planning on doing anything while this happened. He just sat there and let you do all the work. Not ideal for your first time but you were ready to settle.

You pouted as you looked down at his length.

A solid six inches with a thick vein sprouting from his groin that eventually trailed to smaller veins, the head only slightly exceeding the rest of his cock by centimeters, already glistening and moist from the natural lubricant it produces.

You had always dreamed of the day you'd lose your virginity, with all the deranged smut you read giving you great expectations on what would go down. You weren't necessarily disappointed with what you saw. You were just...unprepared. scared, even. But you couldn't back down now. Not after having to convince him to do this with you.

"It doesn't bite." Konig spoke, catching you off guard. His was softer than usual, but still hard enough for you to know he was being his usual mean self.

Hesitantly, you reach for it, placing your fingers around the top of it. It was cold and wet, and you could feel the veins described earlier.

You winced, laying it back on his stomach, the tip reaching his naval. You sat yourself on top of it, blushing as your entrance became acquainted with the feeling of the veins. You rubbed yourself against it, creating friction between your hole and his rod.

He looks at you with narrowed eyes as you edge yourself on him, carefully rocking your hips back and forth as your face burned with embarrassment. He watched the way your lower lips spread and closed as you rubbed yourself on him, your clit peaking out every now and then. The way your hips continued this forward backward pattern while your legs stayed in place.

He felt you heating up on top of him, silently enjoying the sight of you getting off at just the feeling of him against you. It was cute to him just how desperate you were for his touch. Your hips moved harder as you try to hide your pathetic whines of pleasure, letting your slick lips glide up and down his dick.

You could feel a lump in your throat, the feeling his girth teasingly rub against your hole making you feel uneasy. He could see it on your face. You were eager to meet release, a feeling you've only fantasized about. Konig watched on as you sorrowfully grinded, not moving an inch to assist you.

You can support me by liking, commenting, reblogging, and/or cashapping me @fundsbrownie. Donations are optional, but much appreciated. Have fun! And remember, take care of yourself.

[blegh-110]

Have I found you, flightless bird? (4/?)

Pairing: Soft!Dark!Tangerine x Fem!Crybaby!Reader

Summary: In which you’re resistance against Tangerine is breaking.

Chapter Warnings: Stockholm syndrome, kissing, SMUT: fingering, spanking

Word Count: 8.3k

You don’t know how much time has passed by since you were first taken here. You tried to keep track at first and were doing well, but then the days started to blend together and you couldn’t remember what you’d done the day before. Which wasn’t much.

Even though there were many rooms for your entertainment, you refused to use them because using them means giving into Tangerine. And that was the absolute, last thing you wanted.

As you lay in bed and begin going over your day, you have a realization that you will have to wake up and do it all over again; absolutely nothing. 

-

There are a few times where you’re so overcome with anger towards Tangerine, and his actions that he believed were acts of kindness and love, that you take it out on anything and aren’t fearful of the consequences. Like right now, when he’s made you dinner, nothing out of the ordinary from the daily routine. But today you are feeling especially enraged, just staring at Tangerine makes you want to scream. You sit at the dinner table and watch him cook one of your favorite meals. You can’t look away from him as your negative emotions rise, and you have no interest in looking away and calming yourself down. No, you want to continue being livid and get a reaction out of the deranged man, just so you can have more reason to loathe him.

Tangerine begins cutting your food and that just about does it. Again, this is nothing out of the ordinary, he always cuts your food into smaller bits. But today is not one of your best emotionally, the fact that he believed you weren’t capable enough to cut your own food set you off. But that wasn’t the reason why Tangerine cuts your food, he just wants to take care of you and not let you lift a single finger. 

 He walks over to the dinner table and places the plate in front of you. At this point, Tangerine can see your emotional state and is just waiting for the moment you snap. But he thinks you’ll act out verbally, so when you pick up your plate of food and throw it across the room, he freezes. The closest you ever did something like that was on that very first day, when you had tried to escape. 

The glass shatters on the kitchen floor and the sauce splatters everywhere. You look at Tangerine and hope to see his eyebrows furrowed together paired with a furious frown, but he only sighs and walks back to the stove, making you another plate. 

“Please eat, you’ve hardly had anything today, love.” He says when he comes back, then leaves a sweet kiss on your cheek and tends to the mess, which leaves you feeling a mix of emotions. You’re confused, but at the same time relieved, as well as empty and unsatisfied. Worst of all, you suddenly felt guilt slowly fill up your empty stomach as you watched Tangerine clean up your mess from the floor. 

And when he was getting you ready for bed and brushing your hair, he spoke about what you did, and you feel awful. 

“(Y/N), what you did tonight was not okay. I understand you are still getting used to living here and maybe you don’t know how to deal with that, which is okay, but you have to tell me you aren’t feeling alright.” Tangerine speaks. He chooses his words carefully, wanting to get it into your head that the way you acted was out of line, but he doesn’t want to make you feel like a bad person. You just needed a little reminder.

But you’re extremely sensitive, and the smallest scolding made you upset at yourself and cry. And this is no different. 

You nod your head guiltily, not wanting to speak and risk breaking down. All you want is to be held, like the first time you met him on the train. He was so sturdy but soft. You need to feel one hand smoothing down your hair and the other rubbing circles on your back. The closest you come to that is when he takes your hand in his and leads you to your shared bed, where he lifts up the comforter and lets you crawl into bed. Instead of joining you, he begins walking out.  

“Where are you going?” You whispered, the ball in your throat not allowing you to speak any louder. 

“I’m sleeping in a different room tonight,”

At this moment, you want to beg him not to go and promise him that you’ll never behave like that again, but you say nothing. Tangerine sees the heartbroken look on your face and is ready to backtrack on your punishment, but he knows what he’s doing has to be done. 

“I don’t want to do this, there is nothing more I have enjoyed than sleeping next to you, but I need you to understand that there are consequences to your actions.” He says while holding your face in his hands. 

“If you need anything, come out and tell me, I’ll just be in the guest room, okay?”

You nod your head and stare at his blurry figure through your teary eyes. Once he leaves (without a kiss) and the door closes, the tears fall and you become frustrated and confused.

Why am I acting this way? You think.

You should be happy that you have a night to yourself without tight arms wrapped around you. Instead, you’re cold and lonely as you lay in bed. And so incredibly guilty to the point where you think you’ve ruined Tangerine’s thoughts about you. You convince yourself that he hates you now, that your actions truly angered him so much that he didn’t want to see you or be near you. 

As you silently cry yourself to sleep, you can only agree with the bad thoughts and sink deeper into your insecurities and sadness. 

-

Tangerine is quick to get out of bed and get dressed when he wakes up. His plan was to get up early and make you a nice breakfast, an extra special one because you took your punishment very well and he feels awful for doing that to you. But he ditches that plan because he wants to see you as soon as possible and check to see how you’re doing. 

He opens the door and is greeted with a sad sight. You’re already awake, you have been for the past hour, and you’re sitting up with slumped shoulders staring at the wall with sad eyes. You don’t turn to him when the door opens, you don’t even notice it, too spaced out. 

“Oh, darling.” He says to himself and walks towards you. You see him in the corner of your eye but don’t dare to look at him. 

“Let’s go downstairs and get something in your stomach, yeah?” He whispers and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. His soothing voice and gentle touch are already making you feel better, but that guilt is still there, heavy on your chest.  Every bad thought you had created throughout the night only clouded your judgment. You feel like a burden.

“C’mon.” Tangerine takes your hand in his rough ones and stands you up from the sheets. 

Once in the kitchen, that awful feeling on your chest spreads to your stomach, making your hunger worse. Thankfully, Tangerine doesn’t let go of your hand or stop any of his physical touch, he can clearly see the regretful state you are in. 

For just a second your heart drops when he lets go of your hand, but then you find yourself sitting on top of the counter. The coldness on your thighs not only makes you shiver, but it also deepens you into your sorrowful mood. You’re distressed and hyperaware of everything, you felt yourself on the edge of crumbling into a ball and breaking down. 

While you felt your world about to crash, Tangerine glanced at you and once again felt his own heart break. He saw your stiff body, furrowed eyebrows, and anxious eyes filling up with tears, and decided that you’ve had enough. 

Then Tangerine’s arms are around you, engulfing your entire being in a hug. And all of those bad feelings and thoughts are gone in an instant. His tight grip brings you back down to earth and makes you let out the breath you were holding since last night. 

“You did so well for me, (Y/N). So proud of you,” 

“Missed you so much last night, couldn’t even sleep properly without you,”

“M’not letting you go tonight.”

His words make you start crying and grip his shirt, for the first time you completely melt into him and the endless caresses. It’s enough to make you confess some of those upsetting feelings.

“M’sorry, feel so bad. And I was so cold and lonely and-” You don’t finish your sentence when a cry leaves your mouth, your words also take an effect on Tangerine when he somehow holds you closer. 

“All is forgiven, my love. It’s over now.” And he gives you a long kiss on your cheek, the first one since your punishment,  that gives you butterflies and makes you dizzy. His affection and gentle kisses to your face make you want to return it, to wrap your arms around him and press your mouth against his. You shake your head to clear your mind, yet you nuzzle your head into his shoulder for more comfort. 

After holding on desperately to each other for a while longer, Tangerine has to tear himself away from you despite your whines and your pretty eyes threatening to spill more tears. 

“I know, I know, v’got to get you some food. What do you feel like, lovely?” 

You have trouble answering, getting flashbacks from last night. You also don’t feel like you’re able to speak properly, so you shrug your shoulders.

“That’s alright. I can make some pancakes, waffles, french toast-” You perk up at french toast, your unknowing craving suddenly being solved. 

As he makes your meal, you’re still sitting on the counter watching him with many thoughts. You feel a certain fondness for Tangerine. It was something about you letting out your emotions in a nasty way, and instead of hurting you like you thought he would, Tangerine made you another plate full of food and pleaded for you to eat. He didn’t hurt you or berate you or call you names, like your parents would’ve. Not only that, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of his figure.

Luckily, he was turned away from you, now cutting up fresh fruit. Your eyes couldn’t help but wander from his broad shoulders to his forearms to his ringed fingers. Despite this, there was nothing that could make you admit how attractive he was in his white button up shirt and his dress pants. Then you look down at your own attire and feel not only underdressed but gross as well. Even though your pajamas were cute, a short lilac nightgown with lace hemming, you felt it did not compare to Tangerine’s dark blue suit. Pair that with your teary, wet face and stuffy nose after your breakdown, you feel ugly. 

You are once again too caught up in your own thoughts to notice Tangerine walking back to you, the feeling of his body sliding between your thighs brings you back to him. His closeness and the smell of him makes you shy.

Tangerine then brings up both of his hands, one has a firm grip on your chin to hold you still, and the other holds a napkin that wipes away your tears with a touch so light you can barely feel it. But it's enough to dry your face. While he’s finishing up, you have the chance to get a closer look at him. Your breath gets caught in your throat when you notice the first few buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, showing just a glimpse of his chest and his gold necklace. The contrast of his masculine look and his gentle actions makes you swallow. 

Tangerine notices this and smirks. His hand on your chin drops down to hold your jaw, making the butterflies in your stomach spread all over your body. 

“Almost done now, just hold still for me.” Tangerine whispers and wipes your other cheek. You feel a sound bubbling in your throat but you suppress it. Unfortunately, it comes out when he brings his hand down with the napkin and gives you a firm kiss at the corner of your mouth, still with his hand holding your jaw. 

It takes everything within you not to bring him back to you and lay a real kiss on his lips, it takes all of your self control not to cry when he puts just a little bit of distance between the two of you. 

“Thank you, darling.”

“You’re welcome.” 

Tangerine smiles at your quick response before feeding you some french toast. You hum at the sweet taste of the dish and the warm feeling it gives you in your stomach. He gives you another forkful when you feel syrup on the corner of your mouth, but just as you’re about to wipe it away, Tangerine beats you to it. Using his thumb to swipe it away and putting it in his mouth to get rid of the sticky feeling. You shift your eyes away at the scene, your shyness only becoming more apparent. 

“Look so pretty right now.” Tangerine says while fiddling with the strap of your nightgown. You feel like you’re about to burst at the feeling of his fingers against your skin, but you want more. 

“Thank you.” You mumble when he puts a strawberry slice in your mouth with his fingers. 

You’re frustrated. Even though he’s giving you a lot of attention and soft touches, you want more. And even that itself frustrates you even more. You should not want this man's hands anywhere near you. But it’s hard not to when he’s breathing down your neck, feeding you himself, and looking so handsome. This would’ve been a dream come true for you if it weren’t for the circumstances.

You don’t voice any of your thoughts. Instead, you let Tangerine continue feeding you.

-

It was about a week later after the dinner incident and your punishment. You try not to think about it too much, just remembering how you felt alone in your room made your heart hurt. And as a result, something inside of you changed. 

Since that night and the morning after, you had a need and a certain hunger for Tangerine. 

You wake up in the morning to his kisses on your skin. It was nothing out of the ordinary. But the past few days were different. Instead of turning your head away or turning your back to him, you let him kiss all over your face down to your neck where he becomes just a bit rougher. 

You let out a sigh when you feel one of his hands rub up and down your back, taking away the morning chill. But the goosebumps only come back when you feel him begin to suck on your skin for the first time. The feeling of his teeth on your sensitive skin makes you moan and clutch onto his bare shoulders, where you feel his muscles. 

The two of you stay like this for who knows how long. You're completely comfortable in Tangerine’s warm arms, feeling blissed out with just him mouthing your neck and touching you all over your body. All you can do is lay down and let him ravish you. 

You then hiss when he bites a little too hard, but the pain shoots down to your core, making your eyes flutter open. You weren’t sure when you last felt this way. You didn’t exactly have time before to go out and have fun, especially with men. You’d gone on a few dates and even fewer hookups with guys who really only cared for their pleasure, always leaving you dissatisfied. But you figured that was normal and got used to douchebags. Just the small amount of their attention, even if it was just for the night, was enough for you. Which was why you weren’t fighting Tangerine off of you. 

Since that night on the train, he has always given you his undivided attention. And because of your rocky history with men, you felt yourself slowly basking in it. Not only because it had been a while since a man was affectionate with you, but also because Tangerine was clearly focusing on your pleasure. When your fingers clenched his shoulders and a breathy moan escaped your lips, he only provided more of his sucking and kissing. 

You feel Tangerine just about to pull away to look at his attack on your neck, but your whine and tightening arms stop his movements. Despite his ability to pass through your arms without having to try, he is easily pulled closer to you. 

Once you’ve pulled him back down, the need to plant your mouth on his comes back. The two of you haven’t shared a kiss yet, since you’ve been with him, it has only gone as far as kisses on the face. And it was Tangerine giving those out. You weren’t comfortable enough to give the man the same affection before.

But now, you can’t take your eyes off of him and his pretty lips. Nor can you stop your hands from rubbing his bicep up and down. Your eyes go from his lips to the entirety of his face. The morning light behind him made him look ironically angelic. His hair was curly and unkempt, you couldn’t help but trail your hand up his arm, over his shoulder, up his neck, and finally running your hand over his scalp. You scratched lightly and began twirling a strand of hair around your finger. You were completely captivated by him. 

Tangerine’s own eyes began to flutter shut, your touch igniting a fire inside his stomach. 

Testing the waters, you stare at his lips above you and slowly lay a small kiss on them. 

There was no tongue or open mouths. Just a peck, which left Tangerine having to hold himself back from bruising your lips, in a I-care-for-you-so-much kind of way. He just has so many emotions and wants that have been bottled up since the first time he saw you. But from now on, he needs to let you be the one to call the shots and be in control. Your relationship would go nowhere if he always had complete power over you. The only exception being laying kisses on your face, that is something he can’t help himself with. You’re just too pretty and sweet not to love up on.

The feeling of your lips on Tangerine’s makes your heart stop. So you lay another one, this time staying just a bit longer.

You sigh into his mouth when he begins moving his lips against yours, catching your bottom lip between his own. You hesitantly began moving along with him, parting your mouth slightly and gasping when Tangerine’s tongue slips into your mouth. You open wider for him and let him lick into your mouth, you can’t help letting a few moans out. 

Your fingers grip the strands of his hair, tugging him closer, almost painfully, against your mouth when you feel Tangerine sucking on your tongue. You’ve kissed boys before, but never like this. The ones before, you were cautious and careful about how you were kissing, and the guys were messy and slobbery. Everything was very uncoordinated. 

But this was something else. Tangerine knew exactly what to do and when to do it. It was also messy, but not in a way where you wanted to pull away and wipe your mouth. You wanted more, you wanted to taste Tangerine more. This time, you didn’t care for what you were doing, only focusing on tasting his lips. 

Tangerine then pulls away, just to take another look at you, but not without having to fight you. He tries to lift his head up, but your arms tighten themselves around his neck and you move up with him, desperate not to let him go.

“Let me see you, pretty.” He says in between kisses, finding hard himself to pull away, but you relent. His words go in one ear and out the other, except for “pretty”. That has you pulling him in even more. But unfortunately, Tangerine is way bigger and stronger than you.

With his lips still on yours, he takes one arm and easily removes your hand from his neck and does so with the other, pinning them down above your head on your pillow. Without your grip, he now is able to take a look at you, but not without laying just a few more bruising kisses. Once he finally pulls away, the sight of you has him groaning and he can’t believe how beautiful and already wrecked you looked with just some silly morning kissing. 

Your hair is all over the pillows and bushy from his hands, your eyes are half open and begging him to do something, and your mouth is releasing fast pants from your priority to kiss than to breathe. Your chest goes up and down and you look so fucking gorgeous in your little pink nightgown that has ridden up your thigh, just under the spot you both want him to be. He’s in a trance just staring at you, but is soon taken out when he hears your whine and feels you trying to release yourself against his hands. Tangerine, although also wants to continue and go further if you let him, decides he wants to mess and play with you for a bit. 

“Awe, is my baby needy?’ He asks and comes close to your lips, just a hair away from touching them. With teary eyes and a pretty pout, you nod up at him. You’ve now been with Tangerine long enough to know that that combination is more than enough to get what you want. You’ve used it on multiple occasions. But Tangerine wills himself not to give in to you. 

He coos and gives you a faux pout, “Well, that’s just too bad, darling.”

He goes back to nipping at your neck before placing both of your hands in one of his, taking his free one to lightly grip your neck. The feeling makes you close your eyes and moan loudly. You’ve been wanting his hands around your throat for some time now, since that morning he wiped away your tears in the kitchen. 

Tangerine takes his free hand and slides it under your back, pulling you up towards him and making you arch your back. That’s when you feel it, his bulge against your stomach. You gasp when you can feel how big it is as Tangerine begins grinding against your stomach, the size of his cock making you simultaneously nervous and excited. You wonder if it would ever fit inside of you. 

You attempt to free yourself from his hand, wanting to touch Tangerine anywhere you could. But he grabs your leg and hikes it around his waist, now rubbing himself onto your core. You let out another moan before Tangerine catches your mouth in a bruising kiss, tongue in your mouth and lapping at your own. 

You feel overwhelmed, all your senses feel like they’ve been dialed up to the maximum. All you can hear are Tangerine’s grunts into your mouth, all you feel is hand rubbing your thigh, even with your eyes closed in bliss, all you can see is him. You taste him on your tongue as you lick into his mouth. It’s all so much, so much pleasure all at once, but it’s still not enough. 

You let out a high pitched moan when his cock rubs against your clit just right. The only thing between the two of you are your panties and his boxers. 

Tangerine finally releases your hands from his and takes his other one off of you, then raises himself up. This allows you to catch your breath for a split second before your being flipped over onto your stomach. Your face suddenly in the sheets when you feel hands on your hips, which raises them up. You attempt to lift your upper body up, but a firm hand on your back pushes you back down. 

“Stay there.” Tangerine says, his tone making your stomach flutter and eyes close. 

Tangerine hums to himself at your position, ass up and face down. Because of the short length of your nightgown, it has risen up over your ass, allowing Tangerine a very nice view of your floral panties. 

You sigh into your pillow when you feel hands on your bum, kneading gently. Then you hear a loud smack and sting on your ass, the feeling making you gasp and rise up on your arms. But your shoved back down just as quickly as you got up, then Tangerine lays two more smacks, making you whine.

“I thought I told you to stay there.”

“M’sorry.” You say, your words muffled into your pillow. 

Tangerine hums and thinks for a moment, knowing that this is most likely the first type of sexual experience you’ve had that involved having to control yourself and listen to your partner. He decides he’ll let your disobedience slide, then you and him will have a discussion later about the type of sex you enjoy and what you both want. 

The lack of words from Tangerine makes your heart crack, maybe he didn’t hear you?

“I said I’m sorry.” You say once more, not sure exactly what you’re hoping for. 

“I know, I heard you. Thank you for apologizing, darling.” He says, then lays a gentle kiss on the small of your back. You squirm under his lips, happy to be on his good side. 

“You’re welco-'' You're cut off by your own gasp when you feel a hand cupping your core and single digit rubbing your clit. You begin panting into the pillow and moving your hips to Tangerine’s hand. 

“That feel nice?” Tangerine asks, holding back a groan at how desperate you are. 

“Uh-huh.” Is all you can say with closed eyes. 

You try with all of your effort to stay in your position, you fist your hands in the sheets, trying to find some balance between the pleasure and trying not to get too caught up in it. You’re fearful at what Tangerine will do, but at the same excited about it. But it all becomes too much when he begins to rub you more roughly and at the same time, spanks you again so hard that you yelp into the sheets. 

“Alright, that’s quite enough.” Tangerine is quick with his movements as he places a hand on your upper back, right under your neck, and shoves your head back down roughly. He then takes both of your hands and pins them behind your back, and continues to caress your cunt. 

“S-sorry!” You gasp wetly, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he begins to rub you quickly, his entire palm practically shaking beneath your cunt. Even with your underwear on, you both can hear just how wet you are. The sound of your wetness and your moans bouncing off of the walls of your room. 

Tangerine feels you stop your humping against his palm and sees your body shaking, you’re close. For just a second, he stops rubbing your clothed covered cunt, making you cry out and wiggle your ass, and pulls your underwear to the side. You feel the cool air hit you and are left curious as to what Tangerine is going to do. 

You cry out when you feel his fingers against you, teasing your hole as he circles a single finger around it. 

“You want my fingers, dove?” Tangerine asks, pressing his finger against your hole. You nod your head against your pillow as much as you can, the angle your neck is at making it difficult. 

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Can barely put just one of m’fingers in there, unless I shove it in.”

“Please, please, just want one.” You beg into the sheets, your words barely audible.

“What’s that? You don’t want it?” Tangerine smirks and goes back to circling two fingers around your clit. You shriek and shake your head, wiggling your ass in a futile attempt to find any sort of touch. 

“No, no, no, I do want it! Pleas-” Your cries are cut off when you feel a large finger slowly enter you, that’s all it takes for you to shake and crumble beneath Tangerine. You groan and arch your back, taking more of Tangerine’s finger. You feel yourself toeing the line of pain and pleasure, his finger feels so fucking good but he really does have to force it in. 

“Oh, you’re coming already? But I’ve barely touched you.” Tangerine coos at how easy it was to get your body trembling. 

Poor girl, he thinks. You really haven’t been touched in a long while. 

He slowly retracts his finger all the way out, before slowly pushing it all the way in, your tightness making his movements slow. You drool into the pillows as your mouth hangs open with no sound coming out. Your orgasm takes everything within you away. 

You sob when Tangerine doesn’t stop his movements, not letting you take a single moment to settle down and collect yourself. You try to remove your hands from his grip, then you feel a rain of smacks on your ass and his hand returns to your sopping cunt.

“Please! Ah!” You beg loudly, though you’re not sure what for. For Tangerine to stop? For him to keep going? 

Tears soon fall down your cheeks, joining the drool on your pillow. The mess is spread onto your cheek as you scream and shake. You feel your juice slowly drip down your thighs, but you pay no mind to it as you’re quickly brought closer and closer to your second orgasm. You feel the sweat on your neck and on your forehead. You’re a mess, but Tangerine finds you-so far gone in the pleasure- so beautiful. 

You groan and tremble again when Tangerine just slightly curls his fingers, hitting that spot inside of you that makes your eyes roll back. But the pleasure soon becomes too much when you feel his thumb circling your ass and you lose the very little control you have. Your hands helplessly trying to grab onto anything you can reach to ground you from the pleasure. Fortunately, Tangerine readjusts his grip on your wrists and lets you hold his hand as you turn your face in the pillow and sob into it, your shoulders shuddering as your juices coat his finger and leak out of your hole. 

“Oh, that’s a good girl.”

You think you black out for a moment at his words. The praise sinking deep into your bones and going straight to your core, making you twitch.

“Thank you, thank you-” Is all you can say as you ride out your high, your mind melting away with pleasure. 

Tangerine stops his movements, but doesn’t remove his finger. He enjoys the way your small hole clenches onto his finger, almost like you're begging him not to remove it. When he sees that your breath has finally calmed down into hiccups, he slowly takes out his finger, making you whine and arch your back. 

He finally lets go of your hands, gently taking both of them and placing them beside you so as to not hurt your arms. 

“You’re welcome, my love.” He whispers before leaving a gentle kiss to your wet cheeks, tasting your salty tears. Tangerine puts his hands back on your hips, his touch gentle, and lowers them back on the bed. He then takes off your underwear, tossing them in your hamper where he notices that it’s filled up. He makes a mental note to do your laundry sometime today, maybe after work he thinks. For now, his focus is on putting you back together with a nice bath and a warm breakfast. 

Tangerine goes back to you and pulls down your nightgown, covering your bum then patting it softly as he sits next to your tired body. 

“Gotta take a bath now, love.” He whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“M’tired.” You yawn and knuckle at your eyes. Just the idea of having to sit up and walk to the bathroom is exhausting, but the sticky mess between your thighs and the wetness on your cheek says otherwise. 

“Okay.” Is the only response you get before you feel Tangerine get up and walk away. The sudden disappearance makes your eyes open. You sit up despite your arms and back aching and begging for you to lay back down. You don’t know what to do.

Did he just leave? Where did he go? Is he coming back? 

Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear the faucet of your bath being turned on and the sound of running water. 

You lay back down and close your eyes, assuming Tangerine was the one who was taking a shower. Just as you feel yourself about to slip into your slumber, the water finally shuts off and you feel an arm sliding itself under your back and another arm going under your knees. 

You make a noise of discomfort, you just want to lay back down. 

“I know, I know. But you’ll feel so much better after a bath.” Tangerine says softly, his voice is enough to send you back to slumber. 

You open your eyes and see that you’re in the bathroom, and the tub is filled with bubbles. Tangerine bends down with you in his arms to put you down and send you back on your feet, you shiver and wrap your arms around yourself when your feet hit the cold floor. Tangerine sees this and mentally scolds himself for not placing you on one of the bathmats. 

“Wasn’t sure which scent you wanted to use since you haven’t used any of those.” He points to a basket filled with many types of bath bombs, all different sizes and colors and fun shapes. Your eyebrows furrow, since when did you have that?

Tangerine smiles at your tilted head and confused face, “they’re in this cupboard,” then he points to one of the cupboards you hadn’t even opened yet. 

“Oh, okay. Thank you.” 

“I’ll lay out some clothes while you’re in here. And if you want, I would like you to come down and we can eat together.”

“I would like that, Tangerine.”

“Wonderful, I’ll see you soon, love.” Tangerine says, but not without a gentle hand cradling your cheek and a sweet kiss on your lips that leaves you stunned. He quietly leaves the bathroom and shuts the door.

You get that feeling in your stomach when you miss someone as soon as they’re gone, but you remind yourself that you’ll see him again in about thirty minutes, with some good food. You shyly smile at the thought of having breakfast together. Hopefully he’s in one of those moods where he sits you on his lap. You could do it yourself, but knowing he’s the one who wants you that close to him makes you blush. 

Before getting into the bath, you decide to explore the bathroom a little more and open the drawers you hadn’t even touched. Despite Tangerine telling you on multiple occasions that “this is your new home” and “you can do as you please here”, the house is still very much new to you. It feels wrong to open every single cabinet and go look through it or go to any room and lounge or take all the food you want from the kitchen. You feel like you have to ask for permission for everything and anything. And up until very recently, your walls are starting to crack.

You open one of the drawers and gasp. Sitting in it are many more bath bombs that immediately fill your nose. Next, you open a cabinet and in it are different types of body washes from brands you’d always wanted. You marvel at all the different pretty bottles and colors and scents. 

This continues on with you opening the remainder of the drawers and cabinets, which are all filled with the most delicious smelling lotions, shampoos, conditioners, body scrubs, body oils, and more. By the time you’re done, a good fifteen minutes have passed by and you struggle to pick which product you want to use. In the end, you choose a body wash, lotion, and perfume from the brand Philosophy called fresh cream, the smell reminding you of freshly baked cookies and cakes. 

As you get into the bath, you can’t help but feel just a little bit giddy and excited at the thought of Tangerine pulling you close and liking the way you smell. Maybe he’ll kiss my neck and bite me again, you think as you sink into the bubbles and perfectly warmed water. 

Your mind starts to wander when your body begins to relax in the water.

Whatever you did with Tangerine was great. Really, really great, you think. 

The stuff he did and said to you, you were very surprised you had such a responsive and good reaction to them. No one’s ever treated you that way in bed. 

Tangerine was so… assertive and demanding and rough, especially. You liked the way he held and restrained your arms from touching him, it made you have no choice but to take what he was giving you. You liked that you couldn’t pull him closer or push him away, he was making you take the pleasure he was providing you. 

And the way he talked to you! The butterflies appear in your stomach at the thought. 

The way he gave you orders, and got angry when you didn’t follow through them. It wasn’t on purpose, he was just making you feel so good you couldn’t stay still. But then he really got rough again and restrained you again. 

You squeeze your thighs together at the thought of his rough hand on your back and pushing your face in the sheets with a great force. 

But it was after all of that is what made you want to run up to him and kiss him again, he was so sweet and gentle, from what you remember. Just like when you first met him. It was all pet names and soft touches and some kisses here and there. Thinking about this reminds you that he’s waiting downstairs for you. You quickly finish washing yourself and get out of the tub.

Following this is your skin care and makeup, which you apply just a little bit of lipstick, spreading it with your fingers to give it more of a natural look. Then finish your lips off with some cherry scented lip gloss. Next, you apply some mascara and blush, and you’re done for now. It’s the same story as the drawers, the amount of makeup is a little much, but you still love it. It’s just going to take some getting used to, having so much in such a small amount of time. You want to take your time exploring and not just dive headfirst into it all.

And lastly, before you get dressed, you apply the sweet lotion on your legs and arms.

When you’re done in the bathroom, you stand in front of your mirror in the outfit Tangerine had laid out for you. A white flowy sundress with a tiny red floral print, paired with a small red cardigan and socks. Although you love the entirety of the outfit, you decide not to wear the cardigan as you want Tangerine to smell as much of the lotion on you as possible. 

The final touch to your look is the perfume with the same scent as the lotion and bodywash. And with one last squeeze of your hair with a towel, you’re off downstairs and trying not to appear too eager. 

-

Perfect timing, Tangerine thinks as he’s setting down the last plate of chocolate croissants on the table when he hears your footsteps coming down the stairs. His heart soars when he sees you, freshly showered with wet hair and the cute little dress he layed out for you. 

You’re very clearly nervous as you sit down, so much that the amount of your favorite foods right in front of you don’t register in your mind. When you see Tangerine, back in his goddamn suit, you’re reminded of the morning’s events, making you feel self-conscious once again.

Did Tangerine like the dress on you?

Has he noticed your light makeup?

Does he like the way you look?

Is the smell of fresh cream too much?

Tangerine makes his way towards you, frowning at your refusal to look at him and your worried eyes. 

You jump when you see the chair next to you move from the corner of your eye, and you're slightly disappointed when Tangerine doesn’t immediately pull you into his lap and wrap his arms around you. 

“Fancy some croissants, love?”

You nod your head and look at the table, mouth quickly watering at all the food. 

It’s silent for a while after Tangerine fills up your plate and glass with apple juice. You wonder why he’s being so distant, usually he’s feeding you and kissing all over your face. He feels so… far away, despite being right next to you. Your eyes begin to water at the thought of him regretting what he did. You very much enjoyed it and thought he did as well, but you figure now you’re wrong. Then you realize he didn’t even cum. You didn’t do anything for him. 

You struggle to finish up your food with a lump in your throat, as well as trying not to breathe too much through your nose because then Tangerine will know you’re close to crying. But you could only pretend for so long. 

Tangerine’s head quickly turns to you when he hears the first sniffle, then he puts down his fork when he sees you trembling.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? C’mere.” Tangerine says softly, trying to remain calm at your sudden burst of tears. He takes your hands and gently pulls you towards him off of your chair, some of his nerves going away when you seat yourself on his lap and lay your head on his shoulder. 

“I’m s-sorry.” You hiccup. You feel your breath quicken and that feeling in your chest where you know you’re going to start taking uncontrollable deep breaths. 

“For what? I don’t underst- here, drink some water.” Tangerine places a glass in front of you and you immediately go for it, closing your eyes and letting the cold water soothe you. Your lips away from the cup and sigh, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. It helps when you feel a hand slowly rubbing circles on your back. 

Feeling exhausted again, you lay your head back on Tangerine’s shoulder. 

“How are your arms? Do they hurt?” Tangerine asks while massaging your biceps, that’s when he notices how nice you smell. He noses your damp hair and kisses your head. 

“No, they’re okay, thank you.” You say quietly and tilt your head, his nose in your hair tickling you. 

“Can I see you, please?” 

It takes a while for you to muster up the courage to just sit up, your head feeling heavy. Tangerine is quick to hold your cheeks and wipe away your tears, he shakes his head at your sad eyes. Seeing you so upset makes him feel upset too.

“Love,” He pauses, reminding himself to choose his next words very carefully, “I’m a little concerned right now, what’s wrong?” He begins to panic when sees your lip trembling and your head turn away.

“Is it something about this morning?”

You nod your head.

“How do you feel? You didn’t like it?”

“No, I liked it. I just-” 

Tangerine’s head perks up, trying not to show how pleased he is with your answer.  

“Just what? You can tell me, I won’t be mad, I promise.” Tangerine brushes away the strands of hair that are in your face, he doesn't want any sort of barrier between the two of you. That way there can be no hiding from you and you can clearly see his own face. 

You take a deep breath.

“I didn’t make you… you didn’t-” You struggle to say the word, it’s humiliating to admit.

“Oh, that’s alright. Wasn’t really focused on myself to be honest. I just wanted to make you feel nice is all.”

You’re once again stunned at his words. He wasn’t focused on himself and his own pleasure? But instead on you? The thought and gesture makes you look down at your hands, your eyes looking anywhere besides the man right in front of you. You’re afraid you’ll burst if you look at Tangerine any longer. 

“Oh, okay. Thank you.” You smile softly as you trace the small flowers on your dress. Tangerine smiles at your bashfulness, it’s so easy to get you so flustered and squirmy. It’s a sight he loves to see.

“There’s nothing to thank me for, love. Should be thanking you, I reckon. I loved seeing you like that.”

“Tangerine, stop it.” You whine and hide your face in his neck, a smile spread wide on your face as you wrap your arms around his neck. Tangerine laughs and pinches your sides, making you yelp.

“C’mon, let me see your face.”

You whine quietly into his neck before slowly removing yourself from your hiding spot, your cheeks on fire and a small pout on your lips. 

“Oh, there she is. So pretty today, aren’t you?” Tangerine whispers and strokes your cheek, making them heat up. 

“May I kiss you?”

“Yes, please.” You whisper breathlessly and his lips are on yours in an instant, making you moan. 

This kiss is different from this morning. It’s slow and deep and all open mouthed. It makes you dizzy, especially when he’s got one arm wrapped tightly around your waist and his other hand has a firm hold on your cheek. He’s not letting you go anytime soon and you’re okay with that. You just want him to keep petting your tongue with his and gently nipping at your bottom lip. 

But then he’s pulling away with an unhappy sigh. 

“I really hate to go, but I’ve got to get to work now.” As much as he doesn’t want to go, he needs to. He’s already very late thanks to the morning’s activities and breakfast. He knows he’s going to get an earful when he meets with Lemon. But he almost backtracks on his words when he sees your shoulders fall and feels your hands remove themselves from around his neck . The realization that he is leaving makes both of your hearts hurt. 

“Oh, okay.” You repeat your words from earlier, but with disappointment. You also look down at your hands again, you don’t want Tangerine to see you like this, so obviously upset. He sighs at you beginning to pull away from him. 

“I don’t want to leave you, please believe me.” He whispers in your ear, making you shiver and eventually curl up to him. Tangerine relaxes and starts to lightly scratch your scalp.

“I’ll make it up to you tonight, how’s that sound?”

“That sounds good.” You say as you play with his necklace. 

“Wonderful. Let’s start with dinner, what would you like?” 

You're quick with your answer. It was one of the first meals he made you during your first week in the house. You remember being angry and annoyed with how delicious it was, and as much as you wanted to throw a fit and not eat it- just to make Tangerine angry- you couldn’t resist it. 

“I really liked that one soup you made with the- I forgot what you called it- noky?”

“Oh, gnocchi?” Tangerine smiles. 

“Yes, that one. That was really good, I really liked it. You should make it again, please.” You ramble, attempting to forget the awful way you pronounced the dish. But you only dig yourself further into embarrassment, making you sigh and cringe at yourself. 

“Thank you, that’s very nice,” Tangerine kisses your cheek and continues, “I’ll stop by the store and pick up some of the ingredients. Anything else?”

You think for a moment.

“I think dessert would be good too.”

“Alright, what will it be?”

“Mochi, th-the ones with the strawberry inside of it.”

“You’ve got it.”

The two of you continue with your conversation, it mostly being Tangerine encouraging you to make the decisions. Such as what the two of you will be doing after dinner, to which you shyly shrugged your shoulders. Anything sounded good, just as long as you were with Tangerine. 

After some more sitting in his lap and kisses to your face, Tangerine places you in your empty seat and starts to clean up. But not before asking you to finish your apple juice and little bowl of fruit. 

He can’t help but smile at you from across the kitchen when you’re happily sitting in your seat, swinging your legs, and popping grapes into your mouth. He just wants to throw you on the bed and have his way with you again, flipping your dress up and having his own taste of you until you’re begging him to stop. 

Next time, he thinks. 

[call-sign-shark]

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary:  Running from your past doesn’t work anymore now that you’ve been directly involved in the Vendetta. Between violence, threats and schemes, you understand that you will only retrieve your peaceful haven with Arthur if you get out of this war with blood under your nails. featuring Tommy Shelby x Reader

Words: 7.5k

TW: alteration of canon events, canonical violence, graphic depiction of murder, SMUT +18, hint at gunplay, cockwarming, piv, non-protected , obsessive love, extreme co-dependent relationship. They are sincerely deranged, sorry about that. No proofreading, we die like men.

Notes:

✞ This is the last quiet chapter of Act II, shit will start to get real in the next part. Also, the smut is just a part of the chapter, not the entire thing.

✞ This is chapter 14 of the Arthur Shelby x You series Heaven in Your Eyes. Each chapter can be read as stand-alone but reading the whole series will make the experience far more intense.

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART

The crackling symphony of burning wood whispered to the stillness, each pop and hiss forming the melody of a sorrowful farewell to John Shelby. Amidst the flickering glow you emerged, your white hair cascading like a waterfall of moonlight around your shoulders to the small of your back. The firelight waltzed upon your features, bringing up the mesmerizing interplay of diamond dust and frost that composed you.

How many more?

The question flashed in your thoughts, leaving a trail of caustic soda that scorched your skull from the inside. How many more of your loved ones should you see burn, their flesh eaten by a voracious fire, until God decided He had enough fun tormenting you? Two faint dimples appeared on your cheeks as you gritted your teeth, the cold winter wind blowing at the black veils of your long and seductive black dress that floated elegantly behind you like the sinister drapes of the Reaper's cloak. In utter silence, Arthur lowkey shifted his focus from the vardo to you with concern and, taking notice of the destructive sparkle in your eyes, pulled you closer. The sensation might have been comforting but your body didn’t answer to his affection, remaining limp and disconnected. To be completely honest, you were feeling so physically and emotionally cold that you would have believed you were made of frost if his coat, which was resting over your shoulders, and his comforting hand, that was on your lower back, weren't there to offer you a bit of warmth.

As the scent of Arthur's reassuring cologne kept you anchored to reality, you finally woke up from your gluey negativity and instinctively nestled against your husband, who placed a discreet and tender kiss on the corner of your lips. The familiar ticking of his facial hairs on your skin sent a wave of comfort through your soul and reminded you that, despite everything that had been going on between the two of you lately, he had been, still was, and will always be your only saving grace. You wondered if, maybe, it was time for you to go back home. Not that his betrayal had been forgotten or forgiven, but you needed him more than ever. For a shit ton of reasons.

“You’re frozen, angel. You sure you wanna stay hm?” He whispered, the tender gravel in his voice clearing your morbid contemplation of the burning vardo, which brought to your mind the sickening memories of your mother and little sister burning at the stake. A long exhale escaped from your fleshy lips as you tried to keep the demons of your past on a leash — and ignore a sudden wave of nausea.

“I’m not going anywhere. If John is burning I might as well freeze.” Your reply was a bit blunter than intended, but Arthur got it. The way you watched the flames climb higher and higher left no doubt about the devastating anger raging inside. They will pay, you silently swore to John, convinced he could hear you from where he was. If bringing him back was out of your abilities, at least you could avenge him by bringing upon every single man who plotted his death a demise worse than death. Just like Thomas Shelby, they would soon know how much pain you could inflict with your tiny and delicate hands, the holiness of your appearance being nothing more than a facade to mask the methodical killer you were. To hell with the promise of not killing again, having blood on your hands seemed to be the price to pay for Arthur and his love. While you lost yourself in the meanders of your thoughts, the cacophonic detonations of gunshots roared in the quiet meadow.

You had barely heard them when, with movements nimble and quick, you pushed Arthur to the ground and stood still to protect him in a reflex you couldn’t fight. The booming sounds might have been loud, they didn’t made you flinch. Quite the contrary, your aquamarine eyes stared at the horizon in search of the slightest threat, just in case the shots fired hadn’t come from the Gold. For a very short while you had been the only one standing, all the Shelby clan on the ground with hands covering their head. Even Tommy, who had schemed the attack, played the safety card and remained covered just the time to make sure the shootings came from their side.

"For fuck's sake, Heaven." Arthur barked at you as he stood up on his long legs, ignoring Tommy in the background who was keeping everyone under his control by yelling. The lanky gangster's hand grabbed your fragile wrist firmly and pulled you closer to him again, steel blue eyes glowing with disapproval at your reckless behavior.

"That was Thomas’ plan right?” You simply replied, your reliable source of information being Aberama and Bonnie themselves -- it was a part of the many perks of living with them in the nearby woods.

“Come on, Angel! A plan ain't going to be always working ay. It could have been the Ital—“ The oldest Shelby brother, with his thick brows furrowed, could not finish his sentence for you hushed him by cupping his face with your freezing little hands. Falling silent, the wolf turned into a lamb as you gently pressed his cheeks, forcing him to look at you.

"Chéri." You started, the pink tip of your tongue moistening your enchanting lips. Each of your movements seemed to bewitch him, to the extent that he almost forgot why he had been that irked, the inferno of his rage instantly cooling down, "I am fine see?” Despite the softness of your voice, he could sense a bit of impatience in your steady tone. Without leaving any time for questions or protests, you laid a small kiss on his cold lips, "We are fine." The melody of your voice was merely a whisper that vanished in the howling wind when your winter lips met his a second time for a deeper kiss. Soft and glossy flesh against rough one. A wild storm of happiness coursed through Arthur at the sensation of this long-awaited mark of affection tingling on his skin, and electrifying his heart. A rapture so strong that the world blurred around him for a moment — he would have probably slipped his tongue in your mouth if the moment wasn't inappropriate. When you pulled back from him, your lips curled in a faint but sincere smile before you squished his scruffy cheeks and released his face from your cold grip. After three years together, it was only at this very moment that Arthur understood that he wasn’t the true guardian and fellow protector of the couple. You were.

Fiercer. Crazier. And certainly far more dangerous.

"Put us out there on purpose... To use John's funeral fire as a fucking beacon!" Aunt Polly's outraged and trembling voice erupted from behind, her words stabbing Tommy like red-hot daggers. If they hurt, he didn’t let it show though. Forced to part from you before his brother and aunt went for each other’s throat, Arthur intervened.

"We were never in any danger, Polly."

"You set a trap. You set a trap with us as fucking bait." She blurted out, standing from her chair and walking to Tommy with steps so furious you were pretty sure she was going to plow into him. Indignation was radiating off her, her dark eyes wishing they had the power to kill. If it had been the case little King Shelby would have been already lying in a pool of his own blood, "Who's dead?!"

After his younger brother had tried to explain to the old harpy that the victims were two Italians, Arthur went on, "We got word to them about the funeral, the where, the when… Told them where to stand for the best shot."

"And Aberama Gold will do the rest." Tommy completed his brother's sentence as if he was an extension of himself — which was the case, you reckoned, when he wasn't busy criticizing you for breathing. From then, the voices only escalated, trying to overcome one another and win the argument by screaming louder than the other until someone eventually gave up. Which was a miracle that would never happen since we were talking about Tommy and Polly. Both of them were two equally stubborn mutts fighting for the same bone and how this argument ended had been predictable: The fierce aunt left, Hell shaking under her heels.

Now was the perfect opportunity to talk.

"Arthur," Your divine voice hailing him, resounding in the meadow like a haunting siren’s song, its unsettling melody sending shivers down Ada's spine. She glanced at you and, for a quick second, the memory of you covered with blood flashed in her mind. Years had passed since you murdered Father’s Hughes accomplice with a pair of scissors but she still couldn't forget what happened back then. She wouldn’t admit it but her trust in you had never been the same from this moment.

Snatched from his thoughts, Arthur turned around, frowning. The family argument had soured his mood.

"Hm?"

"Now I wanna leave." You stated, your seraphic tone as sharp as the razor blades in your man’s cap. This hostility wasn’t aimed at him though, but at Tommy for you had pronounced these four words while glaring at him, indescribable hatred burning in your frozen iris. You might have been aware of the plan, it didn’t mean you agreed with it: the idea of using John’s funeral still infuriated you but your mourning soul hadn’t the strength to fight it. "I'm going home.” Arthur's heart missed a beat, afraid of seeing you disappear again in the depths of the woods. It had been one hell of a harsh week without you and while he — hardly — understood that you needed space, his patience was growing thin, worn out by jealousy and overwhelming dependence. After all, if Aberama was a thief, why wouldn’t he steal his most precious treasure? Or worse, he’s son. Younger, healthier and so much more handsome than him, he thought with gritted teeth and hateful eyes.

"Oh yeah? " Coming closer, Arthur tried his best not to let his murderous jealousy talk and, instead, took a long black key from the pocket of his dark duffle coat "Home ain't with the Gold. Home's—"

"57 Watery Lane. I go there, lock the door and wait for my husband. S'that what you wanted to say?" You suggested, one eyebrow raised and your pale eyes staring at him like two fathomless and cursed jewels. Arthur swallowed nervously, the intense eye contact feeling like an eternity. Besides immediate regrets, the reason for his silence was that he was convinced he messed up again, judging by your sudden cold demeanor. So, afraid you’d lash out at him for his sudden jealousy, all he did was nod and try to keep his composure in front of everyone to pretend he was the one in charge. But you knew him too well not to recognize the sadness in his beautiful but vacant steel-blue eyes. You knew exactly what was going on in his head: he was expecting you to reject him in front of everyone, just like Linda used to do. “Alright” You articulated, and yet your reaction was the strict opposite of what he thought you’d do. Bringing your hand to his, you gave it a gentle squeeze before taking the key, "That’s the home I was talking about, love." You added, your glossy lips curling in a faint but oh-so-reassuring smile that made him swoon with indescribable fascination. Punctuating your sentence with a little wink, you finally turned your heels and left the meadow, your walk as elegant and confident as a fearsome lioness coming back from the hunt.

A predatory and frightful confidence that disappeared as soon as you reached your house. You had barely heard the sound of the door closing when, sick in the stomach, you rushed to the toilets and dropped on your knees to throw up.

"Fuck..." The curse escaped from your trembling lips as you quickly wiped them with a towel, tears beading at the corner of your aquamarine eyes. Polly was right: you did know when to pick your moment. As strong as you were, you had trouble coping with the news of your unexpected pregnancy. So much trouble that you couldn’t rejoice and that lack of enthusiasm only added a layer of guilt to your restless mind. “Fuck!” You snarled, teeth bared. Fuck you, them, all, and everything.

The sound of your platform boots' sharp heels echoed in the sanitized corridors of the hospital as you headed towards Michael's bedroom, your hips elegantly swinging to the rhythm of the silent savage drums of your heart. Tommy had called another lengthy and boring meeting to discuss both the Shelby Company Limited's new installments and the Vendetta, and as well as you dreaded his presence you had to be a part of it now that you were a Shelby. Moreover, the whole mess got even more problematic since Luca Changretta had managed to find a way to break into the Shelby factory and directly talk to his turquoise-eyed opponent for the sole pleasure of seeing a sparkle of panic in his eyes when he threatened to kill the rest of his family.

Surprising as it may sound considering your deep resentment for Tommy's long speeches and the man himself, you arrived pretty early. Not for him, but for Polly Gray. By coming earlier, you knew you'd have a bit of time to talk privately with her about the baby, for she had been the one discovering your secret pregnancy. “Hey Pol’!" You cheered, a wicker basket filled with pastries dangling at your wrist, "I've brought some croissants and éclairs. Thought it could help put up with today's meeting." The bright smile you bore soon vanished from your plumped lips when your winter eyes met with the dark silhouette of your brother-in-law, standing in front of you with his calloused hands in his pockets and his cold gaze staring at your angelic complexions with an unfathomable look. Turning into ice again, your small hand immediately reached for the door handle.

"Stay. We have to talk." He stated, his tone cool and composed. As much as he wanted his sentence not to sound like an order, he ultimately failed. As he talked, all the muscles in your body tense and you felt already irked by his presence.

"Don't." You snarled, your crystalline eyes squinting when they shot him a lethal glare, "Don't fucking come any closer." The sour and threatening expression on your face had been enough to stop Tommy. He was now clenching his perfectly carved jaw. Admittedly, he had never particularly cared about your personal space, invading it on every occasion he could just to push you to your limits and make you feel cornered, but since he had a taste of the ghastly and inhumane gift you had he'd rather be cautious.

"Alright," He said, pinching the bridge of his nose before rolling his eyes and moistening his lips in a surprisingly effusive pout. "No need to be that aggressive eh. Please have a sit." He instructed then, indicating a chair with a brief gesture of the hand.

"I ain't gonna sit. Polly tricked me.” You gritted through your teeth, spiteful at the thought of her betrayal. Your voice echoed through the room like sharp shards of frost falling from a winter sky. "You both knew that I didn't want to be left alone in a room with you anymore and still you schemed this twisted little plan." The cadence of your speech, though measured, carried an Arctic chill that made Tommy shiver. Even with the short distance that separated you, he could almost feel the ice you were made of burning his skin through the many layers of his expensive three-piece suit. In fact, you might be calm but Tommy could still feel the rumble of the storm hidden in that soft and enchanting lilt of yours.

"No one tricked you, and yes, indeed, I knew it. That's why Polly will be here with us. She's coming in any minute. Feel better now? Can you fucking sit?" Your only reply was a mocking snort that was quick to stir anger in Tommy's heart despite the placid expression etched on his face. But no matter how fine and cold the marble he was carved from was, you could see the tumultuous current beneath it. Maybe that was one of the main reasons why he hated you: no matter how hard he tried, you always managed to get under his skin and make him falter.

Silent fell in the hospital room, the two of you staring stonily at each other as you both attempted to decipher the opponent's intentions. "Seriously," Tommy was the first to move, coming nearer despite your warning — part of him did it only to prove to himself that he wasn't afraid of you. As he approached, your sharp sense heard the faint sound of his heart beating slightly quicker than usual and his breath struggling to keep quiet. Closer he came, until he stood only inches away from you, the warmth of his body brushing your skin without even touching it, and the musky scents of his cologne ticking your nostrils. " I meant it you know ay. I meant it when I said we have to end this war between us," You remained motionless, eyes staring at him, "Shut the door on it". In the hushed ambiance of the bedroom, he started to move around you with a gait that mirrored the stealthy elegance of a beast navigating its territory. His steps were a silent predatory waltz, a calculated and deliberate one that could have been dizzying if he wasn't walking around you this slowly, "At least temporarily." The air seemed to ripple with a subtle tension as he circled you like a panther, hiding his fear of you behind an aura of primal confidence, "I'm sure we could both benefit from it, ain't that the truth." You slowly exhaled as he talked, realizing you've been holding your breath for a while.

"What about backing off me and shutting your mouth until Polly comes?" You whispered, your aquamarine eyes carefully following every step he took. Admittedly, there was an undeniable magnetism in the way he moved, almost too smoothly and captivating to be human. In a primal reflex, your lips curled and you showed your pearly teeth. Beneath the shared expanse of your untamed wilderness, a silent battle waged within, as his large and strong hand delicately found rest upon your arm. The skin-to-skin contact sent an unpleasant thrill through your body. Tommy was like a big cat facing another one, testing the waters and carefully studying the line he shouldn't cross for you to snap. All in all, it was a contest whose goal was not to be the first to shy away. His fingers ghosted over your arms, trailing down your skin with an unsettling tenderness. Unwilling to cause another scandal or murder him, you gathered all your willpower not to react even when he leaned above you, looking down at your seraphic traits with curiosity gleaming in his turquoise eyes, "How did it feel when we kissed?" His words, like tempestuous whispers, stirred a sudden symphony of panic and indignation within. "Because you've... Felt."

"I did." You finally admitted, tearing through the silence you've been walling yourself in. All the ice melted in a few seconds, and your face relaxed a little bit. Two hopeful details that ignited both Tommy's gaze and ego -- of course you did, he thought.

"Look at me." His voice turned a bit softer as you slowly raised your gaze to his face.

"Do you really need me to say it out loud, Tom?" As you inched dangerously closer to him, he heard the ambient sounds of the crowded hospital fade into a distant murmur

"I do." The drumming of his heart fastened as a faint smile toyed on your lips. The proximity of your mouth, bewitchingly close yet not quite touching, was killing him. Let alone the brush of your skin under his fingertips and the shared warmth of your breaths mingling in the same intimate airspace. How beautiful you would be together. How fierce. How... Unstoppable. That was all he could think of.

"Disgust." It fell from your mouth with the softness of a chainsaw blade cutting through his guts. Tommy's eyes widened, his ego crashing on the ground and shattering like a broken mirror. He didn't react at first, confused by your harsh words, which contrasted with your angelic smile, "I felt disgusted." You tilted your head to the side, your face turning into winter again, "Now you better move from the way if you don’t want me to crush your lungs."

Tommy was about to back off in terror when he saw you moving your fingers in that peculiar way he was too familiar with.

"Sorry for being late." Polly's voice erupted in the room, saving you from spending another minute alone with Tommy. God blessed her.

"Let me help you with that." He finally said, trying his best to keep his composure at the realization that he would never be able to predict you. Never be able to control nor to own you. His fingers closed on the basket’s handle, right above your reddened wrist, and they lifted it to relieve your frail arm from the pain before he quickly stepped away from you.

"Alright, glad to see the two of you didn't butcher each other in my absence. What a wonderful improvement."

"An improvement that is." Tommy replied, pressing his palms against the table now that he had put the basket on its wooden surface.

" I was talking with the doctor about Michael's health. We have a very short time left: he's almost done with him, and both Ada and Lizzie are coming. Heaven, dear, what about Arthur?" Polly inquired, her black eyes meeting yours.

"He's still in his office at the Shelby factory. But I must admit I thought that it would be only you and me." You stated resentfully.

"I know, love and I'm sorry about it but you wouldn't have come if I told you that Tommy was here." Her cold and sly hand gently squeezed your arm in a gentle gesture, so soft and full of motherly love that you couldn't really blame her anymore. Taking a quick look at the clock on the wall, you sighed and took place on a chair just like Polly did.

"Hurry up. Tell me what's about."

"Ain't going to keep you waiting,” Tom started and went straight to the point, motivated by the desire to see you leave this room as soon as possible, “ I want you to meet Luca Changretta."

"Thomas!" You exclaimed.

"No. You listen to me now," The gangster replied, pointing at you with his index finger, "As you know I've encountered him in the meeting room of the Shelby Company factory. We came to an agreement that stipulates that women and children shouldn't be included in the Vendetta. With that, we can guarantee a certain safety for you, Polly, Ada, Finn, and the kids."

"How... Quaint." You stated, pursing your lips in a bratty pout, "And what's the link between your deal and me potentially meeting the man who wants to see my husband dead?"

"Considering this, one of the women of this family can approach him. The idea was that Polly could meet with him and ask him to spare the family, especially Michael. In return, she would lure me into a specific place and at a specific time so that this bastard can set an ambush and kill me." As Tommy explained the original plan, you side-eyed Polly who nodded at each sentence in an attempt to reassure you.

"The problem is Luca knows the strong bond I have with my nephews. Even if I use the role of the mother ready to do everything to save her son, I fear it won't be enough to convince him. But you..." She left her sentence hanging, Tommy's raspy voice completing it. Shelbys, you swore. Sometimes you wondered if they had some telepathic shit going on between them.

"You despise me as much as Luca does but still bore the name Shelby. You'd be perfect." His gaze almost burnt you.

"Makes sense." You replied, fingers playing nervously with your dress' fabric under the table as you swallowed all the information just heard. Against all odds, his idea was impressively clever — Tommy might have a plethora of flaws but stupidity wasn’t one of them.

"Polly will help you arrange a meeting with him in a club. You talk with him, explain how you do this to save your husband, and if he asks more questions proceed with talking about our relationship." Now that they had finished revealing their plan, Tommy and his aunt were both staring at you, impatiently waiting for your answer.

"Well, I've heard enough." You simply said, getting up from your chair and making your way to the bedroom's door under the two pairs of confused eyes. Once you reached it, you grabbed the handle and watched them from above your shoulder, an amused but sharp grin dancing on your lips. "When Apocalypse comes, it seems like even Thomas Shelby wants the Devil on his team." You teased, entertained by the situation. No matter his neutral demeanor, he needed you. And that was a satisfying feeling. "That's fine with me." Your quick agreement was certainly not something Tommy and Polly expected, judging by the way they looked at you, and then at each other to make sure they heard well. But as illogical as it seemed, the reasons behind your will to get involved in the Vendetta were a matter of course: You were sick of playing the nice and fragile wife who nervously waited for her husband. You didn't come all the way back to Birmingham to be a quiet and patient little thing. You came to make them all shatter and shake at your fingertips. All you wished was to protect your man and show the world that they better fear Arthur Shelby's wife as much as him if it isn't more.

Polly followed on your heels when you opened the door, grabbing your arm and leading you outside.

"The hell you're doing?" You inquired, surprised by her sudden strength.

"One last thing. I need you to keep Arthur busy and to make him come too late for the meeting." The fierce aunt's grip closed a bit firmer around your wrist, making you wince.

"Why that ay? He has every right to attend it. He's the vice president deputy of that company as well as the oldest brother." If there was one thing Polly expected, it was you defending your husband tooth and nail. And yet she had many tricks in her sleeve.

"We don't want him to pull the trigger anymore. It's time for him to delegate and stay out of the battlefield. We didn't climb the social ladder this high to keep dirtying our hands."

Polly's speech made you blink, astonished one could scheme behind a family member's back. "Hey, that's freaking unfair for Art. You have to discuss the matter with him, it's his job we're talking. Ouch!" You whimpered when she squeezed you harder, her eyes begging you to listen.

"Think about the baby! It will need its father! We don't want him in danger any longer so please, please keep him busy just like we, women, know how to do. It's the modern approach, White Devil."

"Modern approach. Of course.”

"Oh, Angel." Arthur said, his gravel voice underlined with a light surprise when he saw you entering his office. He was putting on his long black coat, ready to leave for the family meeting. As soon as his piercing blue eyes landed on your delicate frame he walked towards you, "Why you here? You alright? " He immediately inquired, his protective nature had grown far bigger since you'd joined him in this cursed city. The soft glow of affection shone in your eyes as you looked at him, your glossy and plump lips greeting him with a bestowed smile so sweet and radiant with love that the hurricane of worries in Arthur's skull hushed down.

"Everything's alright!" You hung your coat on a hook.

"Ain't it good news, ay." He cheered despite being in a hurry, before putting his large and rough hands on your forearms with an adorable bluntness so specific to him and rubbing them to warm your skin up, "Well look, lovely to see you but I'm late for a meeting."

"Just five minutes." You asked, coming closer until your breasts flattened against his chest, "Five teeny-tiny minutes, please?" The way your eyebrows raised and your mouth pouted enlightened your angelic face with an irresistible bratty look that never failed to get him on his knees. Arthur quickly moistened his lips while weighing the pros and cons, but it didn't take long for him to make up his mind. Especially when gazing upon that woman-child face of yours.

"Alright, alright." His raspy voice blurted out. Arthur brought his fingers in your hair to slip one of your long white locks behind your ear with an indescribable tenderness. "Needy little thing already missed her husband eh?" He cooed with amusement, his strict facial traits melting as he talked to you, tamed by your presence.

"I did.” You purred with a quick but oh-so-sincere smile, “But I also need to talk to you. Sit, please?” You suggested, the amusement of your tone brightening up his dull day. Joining motion to speech, you gently pushed him back with your two index fingers pressed on his chest. Arthur followed your movements, a bewitched smirk etched on his mouth. Just like your own reflection, each time you took a step forth he took one back until the back of his knees bumped against the desk chair. Enthralled and with lust-dilated pupils, his eyes spoke a love that transcended words. Arthur’s body finally dropped on the chair, and if he was already focused on nothing else but you, the whole universe faded into utter insignificance when you sat on his lap, straddling him. The contact between your two hips ignited a vivid desire within, which spread through his bones like wildfire and got a satisfied “hum” from him.

“What it is ye want to say?” Arthur asked, the hoarseness of his voice carrying a softness no one suspected him to hide. Despite everything you’ve been through lately, including the indescribable disappointment due to his drug relapse, you had allowed your relationship to slowly heal. You had been crystal clear, now the ball was in his court. Arthur was obviously still on trial, well aware that he needed to outperform himself to gain your precious trust back but at least you came home right after John’s funeral, and that was all that mattered.

A very short but comfortable silence floated over the room at his question, your reply taking the form of your fingers losing themselves in his slicked-back hair, massaging his head.

“Are you really in a rush?” Your voice, a delicate dance of enchantment and teasing, wove through the air and left Arthur even more captivated than he already was while you relished on every little adorable of his face — his myriad freckles were surely one of your favorite features of him. Finally, a long exhale escaped from your nostrils. How much you would have loved to stay locked up here with him forever, just you, him, and the baby, far away from this cruel world… “Peu importe ce qui se passe tu sais que je serai toujours à tes côtés, n'est-ce pas?” (translation: No matter what happens you know I'll always stand by your side, don't you?)

"I know." He replied in English. The sensation of your fingertips applying the perfect pressure on his head combined with your haunting French got him definitely wrapped around your finger. The lanky gangster was at the very edge of purring, his eyes half-closed and his piercing and intoxicated iris looking at you through his dark lashes.

As he enjoyed your massage, Arthur made the most of your proximity and let his palms wander on your dainty body, unable to keep them off you. In truth, it was nearly impossible for him not to become all handsy when you were around, no matter the where and the when. His rough hands roamed all over your being, invading every part of you. He was everywhere, softly kneading your small breasts, then trailing down your ribs to finally end his exploration on your hips he seized more firmly, almost bruising them in the process “I must say ya one hell of a cruel witch, love. You come here all hot and bratty.” He cooed, the gravel in his voice rumbling. It was so low, so powerful that it didn’t even sound like a voice but a feeling. His peculiar tone was an inextinguishable fire that enveloped your body, scorched your core, and wrapped your tired mind in a comforting haze. “Makes me feel bad to leave without taking care of ya like a good husband would do, right here on me desk…” You replied with an adorable giggle and Arthur slightly bucked his hips to press himself more against you, just for the sole pleasure of feeling his body colliding with yours. It’s not enough, he thought. It was never enough. There was always too much fabric, too much space, too much of everything between you except when he was buried deep inside of your core, both of you making one as you were meant to be. Another wave of excitement coursed through you, and you had to fight against the irresistible haze he stirred within. Delicate as a feather, you put your two tiny hands on his cheeks and raised his face for your eyes to meet — flaring steel sinking in lethal frost. “But tell me, what's that important hm?”

“First you have to promise me to stay calm. Will you?” You asked, batting your eyelashes like an untamable child about to tell her dad she had just destroyed the expensive family vase. The kind of look that drove Arthur crazy. Sometimes he still found himself astounded by how your face could go from terrifyingly cold to adorably childish. Saying that your words didn’t awaken a bit of worry inside of him would be a lie, but one sole glace at your angelic traits was enough to keep his rage leashed.

“Gonna try me best for ya, hm.” His dark blue irises were enraptured by the movements of your lips each time you spoke — your words were blurring, and his attention was turning into obsession: He missed you. Body, heart, and soul. “Hev…” He sighed in delight as your small hands abandoned his face to strip him from his vest, unbutton his shirt, and then paw at his chest.

“You won’t interrupt?” You mused, nuzzling your nose in the crook of his neck and mouthing against his warm skin. Your thumbs were now tracing circles on his chest, smoothing his hairs. 

“Told ya, angel. Your Arthur will try to be a good boy.”

“Well… I went to the hospital to keep company to Polly. I thought we would discuss trivial things but then she asked me to keep you busy.” You finally admitted, “She and Thomas wanted you to miss today’s meeting.” As painful words melt with the delightful sensations of your caresses, the sky in Arthur’s eyes darkened with black and stormy clouds. His body stiffened under yours.

“What the fuck that’s s’posed to mean?”  He growled, anger already boiling in his veins like a dangerous geyser about to burst. Fortunately enough, your calming presence helped him contain his violent temper — such was your almost supernatural effect on him. Different and yet so similar, Arthur Shelby was made of destructive fire that burnt the people around him as much as him. And yet, his fire never really intended to hurt: quite the contrary, it sought to stay warm and inviting, like a low fire dancing in a hearth. When it blazed out of control, even he couldn't prevent the damage done. You, on the other hand, were made of water. Just like a dangerously cold ocean, you were terrifying, infinite, and relentless, your calm prone to silent but always deadly tempests. “Why the fuck would they do that?!” He cursed louder this time. Feeling your man’s temper wearing thin, you gave a gentle lick on his neck to snatch his attention from his corrosive emotions. Your flat tongue trailed up his sharp jaw to his earlobe — the wet and hot caress on his skin sent thrills of arousal all over him and allowed his mind to focus on something more pleasant than this cruel betrayal.

“Because they want you to stop pulling the trigger.” You explained as quietly as you could, gently rubbing your cheek against his like a cat looking for both affection and attention. It seemed to do the trick: his face was still distorted with latent rage, the thick vein in his temple pumping, but at least he wasn’t turning the office over with his fists nor was he yelling so, overall, it was still a win.  “Modern approach they call it.” You added, using Polly's exact words to the difference that you peppered his lips with small pecs, talking between each pair of smooches to make the pill easier to swallow, “You become a general and Aberama takes care of Changretta… That’s their plan.”  

Breathing loudly through his nose, the gangster pressed his lips together until they formed a very thin line, “Modern approach ay?” Anger coiled like a snake amids the hurricane of his resentment, its hiss echoing through Arthur’s skull.  “They just wanna take me job away.” He stated, more for himself than anyone else, still digesting the news. “And they want to use ya against me? Bloody pricks.” Overpowered by an immense feeling of injustice, Arthur didn’t realize that he was digging his fingers in your thighs a bit more painfully than intended, but his roughness only fanned the flames of your own wickedness. Your skillful fingers explored him, nails brushing his ribs, then palms caressing his slim abs as if seeking to defuse the ticking bomb he was.

“I wanted to tell you everything because nothing in this fucking world will make me stand against you... I may agree with the idea of keeping you safe from harm but not at the expense of your trust.” You confessed,  finally pulling your face from his neck and wrapping him in a relieving hug with your frail arms. If he hadn’t kept his eyes open, he would have sworn that it wasn’t your arms that were surrounding him but two soft and protective feathery wings. His rough hands, which hadn't moved, spread your thighs further to feel your warmth through the thin fabric of your lace thong. Fireworks exploded in you at the hard bulge that was pressing between your legs, making you bite your fleshy lip. Arthur finally let out a long sigh and shook his head, wanting the only thing that could wash away the rage that was eating him up — one of his hands left your flesh only for his fingers to slip between your parted thighs and shift your undergarment to the side.

"C'm'here," He ordered, his breathing increasingly louder and faster.

"Love, you should really go to this meeting." You advised, shivering at the feeling of his long fingers fondling your slit.

"To hell with their meeting, they don't even want me here eh. Need ye right now." With skillful movements, he unzipped his fly and lowered his trousers just enough to free his half-hardened cock and slid it between your sensitive folds, the pleasure and anticipation crashing against you like a rogue wave against the shore. "I feel me bloody mind drift again... And I know I'mma butcher someone if yer lovely lil' cunt doesn't keep me warm." The ghost of a little smirk danced on his lips, mustache lifting on the right side of his mouth when he noticed that his words had the effect he wished for: More of your wetness trickled along his shaft and you had started to grind against him, low key moaning. “I don't fucking know what I'll do without ya..." Without waiting another minute, the gangster lined up with your begging entrance and slowly pushed his swollen tip inside.

"Yes, f-fuck them." You sighed, your nails digging into his back and your legs quivering at the overwhelming feeling of him stretching you. Usually, Arthur wasn't the patient kind and, as it was the case at this very moment, all he wanted to slam his far-too-big cock in you in one forceful thrust to have you whimper and wiggle above him, and yet, he wished to keep it languid for now. It wasn't a rough fuck he wanted, at least for now, but sexual and emotional comfort. The first sweet fantasy that plagued his mind wasn't to cum, but rather to enjoy the blissful and addictive sensation of his thick length opening your throbbing walls inch by inch and filling you entirely.

"There, I know ye can take it all." He gently bumped your cheek with his nose while his smirk turned into a sharp-toothed grin pitching half between the remnant of his anger and satisfaction.

“S’too big…” You stuttered, eyes shut and the telltale of a blush painting across your doll face. With toes curling in your high heels and your arms around his neck, you rolled your eyes in the back of your head as he pushed further. It never seemed to end, and yet it always ended up fitting despite your size difference.

“Bloody Hell, how are ya so tight after years of me ruining ya?" His words were spoken with animal growls — The truth was he had always loved the fact you were too small for him in every sense of the term. Despite the pain, a frail whimper escaped from your mouth, soon accompanied by your legs naturally parting more, instinctively submitting to him and his needs. With a meaner thrust, Arthur had no other choice but to force the way one last time to fill you completely, and when it was finally done, he let out a loud moan at the way your tight walls hugged him. "Shh, shh, that's okay." His strong hands seized your hips stronger to keep you from wiggling and pulling them back in reflex, "A good girl ye are hmm?" You nodded. It was only when his length hit your deepest spot that Arthur stopped, buried inside of you, hard and unmoving, your bodies entirely connected. Another whine escaped from your mouth, a little protesting sound that drove him mad with lust and almost made him forget that his initial desire was just to keep you sitting nice and quiet on his cock. “C’mon love, t’wasnt that hard. Ye should be used to it.” The only reply he got was you rolling your hips to adjust to his size for a comfortable cockwarming session — the most effective thing you had found to tame his wicked tantrums or his adrenaline-fueled passions. The first time had been hell for him, who seemed to be unable not to pound you once he penetrated you — and yet he had learned to love every little thing of it: The intimacy, the constant but manageable pleasure, the cock-drunk and appeased look on your face…

"Missed you, Art'...'" You breathed and hummed, barely rolling your hips but still slightly moving on his cock to enjoy it massaging your velvety walls, "Aren't you angry anymore?" You asked a bit too sheepishly to be true, laying a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Nah, not anymore 'cause yer a nice angel for your husband,” He grabbed your ass firmly, long fingers adorned with cold rings spreading on your cheeks to have a wider grip “Making him find peace between your legs ay?” The stretch had become comfortable by now, and you were both fully enjoying each other, him completely high by your warmth and wetness. “Making him pray God with your holy pussy.” 

“God…” You sighed, throwing your head back, feeling perfectly full — maybe a bit too much even though pain blurred with exquisite ecstasy. “B-But think about it, Arthur. What about letting Aberama do the job? We would stay locked up in the house and do nothing but fuck until the whole Vendetta is over and we go back home?” You suggested, flush burning your porcelain cheeks and giving them a rosy color. The melody of your words — along with how good he felt deep inside of you —snatched a low moan from him. Yet, as much as he yearned for your offer, his conscience needed blood. 

“Got no choice, love.” His two hands left your body shortly to grab each side of your lace dress and take it out, throwing the garment somewhere in his office to have you exposed and vulnerable while he was still fully dressed. Once naked, he cupped your small breasts and started kneading them with blunt caresses that made you squeal: you were already sensitive due to your hidden pregnancy. “John wants me to do it.”

"Fuck!" You cursed when he moved along with you, your hips dancing together and intensifying the burning arousal that was saturating your senses. Soon, splitting you open and having you moaning on his cock wasn't enough anymore. His arms suddenly wrapped you possessively, pulling your two bodies even closer. So close the cold gold of his cross necklace on your skin sent thrills of pleasure down your spine. "He wouldn't want you to risk your life."

“It was me who shot the old man.” Arthur’s mouth, eager to find yours, crashed against your lips in a kiss so passionate that it took your breath away. One of them rough hands stroked your back in an overwhelming cocktail of caresses and scratches, waltzing on every inch of your skin while the other pinched one of your nipples. A second kiss captured your mouth, his tongue making its way into your parted lips to seek yours, not minding the thin trickle of saliva at the corner of them. “John is dead because of me,” He breathed between two savage kisses, “And I’m gonna make it right.” His voice was merely a low whisper combined with ragged breaths and low, gravelly moans.

"S'that was you want?" You managed to ask, losing your fingers in his hair and your mind in a fog of carnal delight. Forehead pressed against forehead, you reopened your frozen eyes and dived into his, words becoming more and more useless as a tornado of raw emotions and sincerity swirled in the blue of his iris: His need to avenge John was visceral and you understood that his mind wouldn't be able to find rest if he couldn't kill Luca Changretta, hence putting an end to the vicious cycle of vengeance. And you definitely hadn't the heart to deny him this unhealthy yet efficient way of exorcising both his guilt and his baby brother's death. “So be it.” You finally granted, endless love shining in your eyes. After all, if there was something you could understand it was vengeance. Torturing and butchering five men didn’t bring your family back, but the pleasure of watching life slipping away from them had nonetheless helped you put up with that excruciating wound, "But when you’ll kill that bastard put two bullets through his head. One for you, and one for me.” You concluded, shifting your body slightly to take the gun that was on his desk before wrapping his neck with your two arms again. And then the mask of the lamb fell, shattering on the ground and revealing the wolf you were. A wolf that was smiling and moaning, its thumb softly caressing the weapon’s metal.

"I'll do that, little one." A smile beamed on his face as you allowed him to carry on his personal vendetta — or as he felt the sensation of the gun resting against his back, his joy finding a delicious echo in his body. The circular movements of his hips turned into deep and full-length thrusts that had you throwing your head back and chanting his name.

“Mr. Shelby! “

“I’m fookin’ busy!” Arthur’s booming voice roared in the office as he slammed the door right at the man’s face. The access to the room might have been forbidden to him, but the cacophony of savage fucking and the noise of the office’s blinds being shaken left no doubt on what was happening. He finally gave up, well aware that nothing would make his boss come. It was only when he told him that two intruders had been spotted in the factory that Arthur stormed out of the room, disheveled, shirt quickly buttoned u,p and with a hammer in one hand. A bloodbath was coming and since nothing could be done to prevent it, Ben went back to work and tried to ignore the upcoming mess. With a bit of luck, they would manage to put down the rabid beast Arthur Shelby was. Soon after his departure, the white-haired girl left, snuggled up in her white fur coat and walking as elegantly as always, even if she was slightly staggering on her heels after what the gangster did to her.

“Poor girl.” Barney — another worker recently hired — stated, glancing at you as you passed by. “She’s nice. Y’know she brings us treats and pastries sometimes… What a shame that young lady had been forced to elope with this bastard.”

“Poor girl?” Ben replied to his colleague, almost choking. “Forced wedding? You’re really new here, mate. Can’t believe the doll blinded you. Something’s off with her. And forced wedding… All you have to do is pay attention to the way they look at each other and then you’ll understand. And it will frighten you.”

“Ya really talking about sweet lamb Heaven?”

Ben scoffed, “A lamb… When your eyes meet Heaven Shelby’s nobody can’t tell if she wanna braid your hair or eat your heart. Lamb she’s not. Don’t get fooled by the dresses and heels, she’s not playing doll. She only makes violence look better.”

Barney became silent at his friend’s sordid statement, the far away sound of Arthur yelling, bones breaking and agonizing screams resounded in the depths of the factory along with the machines’ roars. Amidst the smells of hot metal, sweat, and paint, lingered the spring-like fragrances of your perfume, which confused him even more.

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

✞Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick@kxnnxy @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd

[talesfrommedinastation]

My redneck neighbor Doug watches 'The Bad Batch': The Outpost

As per many people's requests, I've collected a series of texts and Facebook messages from Doug when he watched certain episodes of everyone's favorite Copy Paste Boi show.

Some he was quite pithy on ('Ryan-from-Accounting goes fast but not fast enough to get away from the Bitch Wife Laura'), and others...well, he got excitable, to put it mildly.

Here's one of the more deranged ones, Season 2, Episode 12, 'The Outpost'. Or as Doug calls it: "The Daddy Warcrimes Christmas Special."

CW for Language like you wouldn't believe. Doug says "you'll need a permission slip from your momma to read this, I guess."

-----

Daddy Warcrimes is waiting by the Empire's equivalent of a windowless van, because comfort is just not his thing and he really wants the experience of smuggling cocaine across the border one of these days.

Some bitch who looks like she works at a bank is telling these clones that their extended warranty is up. I wanna bring her a bag of pennies and make her count it before I deposit it because I'm sick like that.

So here comes in SOME BLOND JACKASS. Mother of Hell do I hate this guy. Can I just tell you how much I hate him? I hate him like I hate the Crimson Tide, like I hate February, like I hate my mother-in-law. Hate hate hate. 

So Daddy Warcrimes, SOME BLOND JACKASS, and some homies get into Floating Probable Cause to lay waste to an unsuspecting Third World country or whatever.

Well, I was wrong! Looks like Elsa and her frozen fingers took over this dump. Disney owns both, so why not. The cold never bothered them anyway. Nope, they’re at somebody’s nasty old storage shed. Why does this remind me of visiting my sister in Wyoming?

Oh, who is this no-frills, salt-of-the-earth, son-of-a-bitch? Is that tanned Kurt Russell? No? It’s Sassy Park Ranger! I like him already. If he was my boss I’d actually show up to work on time and sober, or late and hung over, either way, it’d be a good time with the man. He just seems cool and chill and a nice dude. I bet he’s got homemade beef jerky in his locker and his beard always smells like cigar smoke. 

OH SHUT UP STUPID BLOND JACKASS, Jesus Christ I’ve never wanted to hit someone with a folding chair so hard in my life. CALL HIM COMMANDER.

Aw, Sassy Park Ranger’s being nice to Daddy Warcrimes, maybe Daddy Warcrimes will share the Columbian nose candy in the back of the van with Sassy Park Ranger, and Sassy Park Ranger won’t ask about the sobbing family Daddy Warcrimes is probably holding for ransom in the back. It’s all about understanding each other. 

This is truly the Daddy Warcrimes Christmas special, snow and friendship and stuff. I hope this doesn’t end up with Daddy Warcrimes 86’ing Rudolph and the rest of the reindeer from the sky, that would traumatize the children. But this is the same studio that produced Bambi so who knows. Didn't he try killing a kid the first episode?

Oh man, Sassy Park Ranger’s lost a lot of his men, that’s real sad. Only two left, Jesus. SHUT UP BLOND JACKASS SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP.

(I won’t repeat it, but the amount of times that SHUT UP was texted was….something else- Dr. MM)

Sassy Park Ranger’s taking Daddy Warcrimes on a hike around the place in the middle of a blizzard, probably going to say hi to the yeti hooker they all frequent and show him how to write his name in the snow with pee. He’s such a good guy. If they go sledding I’d be so happy.

Oh, shit! Daddy Warcrimes remembers that he has a job and proceeds to cop some poor bastard in the leg so he can follow the trail of blood in the snow. What in the Fargo am I watching here, does Steve Buschemi show up at one point now. No sledding in this one, I guess.

Well there goes Sassy Park Ranger and Daddy Warcrimes on a heartwarming romp following a crippled burglar in the snow as he bleeds to death. Kevin McCallister would be so proud. Well, now, they found a dead body already. You know, at this point, if Daddy Warcrimes capped Santa in the head this show wouldn’t be less wholesome. 

Aw shit Daddy Warcrimes stepped on a landmine, but Sassy Park Ranger watched his training videos that HR made them sit through and disarms it. They’re having a nice convo, I really, really like Sassy Park Ranger. If he dies I’ll be so freaking mad. 

(I said nothing, FYI - Dr. MM)

Aw shit, they found the bunker of crazy white people with guns in the snow. It’s confirmed: the Daddy Warcrimes Christmas Special takes place in Wyoming. Are Daddy Warcrimes and Sassy Park Ranger facing off my brother-in-law and his branch of the VFW near Laramie? Those guys need hobbies besides doomsday prepping and getting drunk in the snow. It ain’t right. 

“After all we sacrificed”…man. I feel right here. Is this the child friendly version of Enemy at the Gate? Shit. Please these two bastards need to survive. I need a beer and I wanna hug my wife.  

Dr. Meat Muffin, please don't tell me you're letting your babies watch this show. They need that dog from Australia who has fun with her daddy, not this.

Oh shit, avalanche! 

Oh no, Sassy Park Ranger. Oh no, oh no. Oh, Daddy Warcrimes.

Thank Christ they made it! They’re gonna save him! They’re gonna save him.

Wait. What. 

WHAT THE FUCK, BLOND ASSHOLE. 

I HATE THIS JACKASS SO GODDAMNED MUCH, SOLDIER OF THE EMPIRE, I WANNER SHOVE MY SOLDIER UP YOUR EMPIRE YOU STUPID DICK. 

FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU

Yay! Daddy Warcrimes finally took out his gun and 86’d that FUCK. CHRISTMAS CAME EARLY!! YAAAAAAY!!!!!

Man...I hope this ends okay for Daddy Warcrimes. I hope his brothers aren't just dicking around somewhere warm while he and the other bros are out dying.

Guess that'll be next episode?"

....Doug snapped SO HARD watching 'Pabu'. Brace yourselves.

[kamig4mes]

tokyo rev boys withhhh a s/o who has a workout addiction

Okay this is my first request! and we started sooo good hahaahah. I edited the request a bit to write a better pov, and I hope you still like it!

Thank u, anon (sorry for the wait pls), nd thank u all for reading, enjoy!

#pov: tokyo revengers boys with a s/o who has a workout addiction.

★ warnings: workout addiction, overthinking, established relationship, fluff, humor, neutral reader!

—mikey!

"Pretty, are you ready t-?" Mikey stopped the bite of dorayaki he was chewing upon seeing you. He wasn't hallucinating, he was sure of what he saw when he stopped his footsteps a few meters from you.

"Huh? Manjiro?" You looked at him strangely "Where is Draken?"

"I insisted that I wanted to pick you up this time" his response was brief, perplexed without being able to take his eyes off the boxing gloves "and this?"

"Uh.. training?" you said with a nervous smile gracing your face, feeling trapped by your boyfriend. Draken was supposed to have your back by coming to pick you up so Mikey wouldn't suspect your workout addiction "Are you mad with me?"

You thought your boyfriend disliked the idea of you training too much but you can't help it! You were so fascinated by exercise.

Meanwhile, Mikey noticed you were so excited training that day that it reminded him of his little self when he trained at his grandfather's house, smiling at the memories. He would undoubtedly go tell Shinichiro when she got home.

"Honey, how could I? If you're great at being you" his gentle smile ruined your heart "No matter what you do, my love for you won't change" you looked up at him in surprise, blinking as his arms wrapped around you in an unexpected hug.

You decided not to tell him anything because you were afraid for his reaction, but they were just your ideas. Come on, that man can't hate you for doing what you love, we're talking about Sano Manjiro, for God's love!

You smiled lovingly as your boyfriend gently pressed you against his chest. You reached up with your free hand and stroked his soft hair

"I do it too, baby and thanks.."

From that moment on, he would pick you up without fail of your workout, he would even stay to watch you train, always keeping an eye on you.

Sometimes she thinks it was too much routine for a normal person but he remembered how hard you kicked the punching bag the other day and he spared his opinion.

—draken!

To say that this big boy wasn’t surprised to find out that you’re even more athletic than he is to lie to us.

I knew you had a certain level of discipline but enough to have detailed lists of exercises, healthy drink recipes and breaks?

Yeah, you were definitely obsessed with staying fit and being strong.

"Baby, don’t you think this is too much?" he muttered, scowling as he watched you do abs "I can protect y-"

You interrupted "I don’t want to be a ransom symbol, love. Besides, it doesn’t hurt to have a partner to back your ass if you get in trouble, isn't it?"

The blonde seemed to think about it. The idea of having each other’s backs was attractive and very beneficial in the long run.

However, and even with so much muscle mass and stamina you gain, Draken won’t take his eye off you. He promised himself that he would always protect you and so it will be until the end.

—baji!

You weren’t weak at all, and Baji suspected it.

From the moment you met him, you accompanied him to his favorite gym to watch him train or just to keep him company, even more so when they started dating.

But on one of those days your deranged boyfriend challenged you to lift not so heavy weights (if you weren’t an ordinary person, of course).

"Tell me, don’t you think this princess can lift those things?"

"I just want to see what you’re capable of, baby" a flirty smile popped out of his lips when you started stretching your muscles.

That’s when your boyfriend’s jaw fell off when he saw you lift the weights without problems, overcoming the challenge in minutes. You laughed at his shocked face: Baji hoped you could do it, he had his suspicions about your obsession with exercise but he didn’t think you were so good!

After he calmed down, the next thing he did was brag to everyone (more than he already did), looking at you like a real beautiful crazy exercise machine.

"I KNEW IT! MY COUPLE IS FCKING AMAZING!" the guy squealed excitedly, some turning around because of the loud noise.

"Lower your voice, Keisuke! We're still in the gym" You laughed, feeling it lift you off the ground for the umpteenth time that afternoon.

"And why do you think I scream? I want everyone to know how amazing you are, baby"

The idea of having a real partner to practice with fascinated him, even more so if that person was you, his couple. And although sometimes he can be a brute who doesn't know how to differentiate between a man and a woman, with you she manages to make that exception. Just for you.

—chifuyu!

Your addiction to exercise for some reason went unnoticed by Chifuyu. You spent more hours than you should have in that room in your house that was meant for you to exercise freely, it was obvious from your physique that you trained.

But how did your boy find out? Like his friend with long black hair, he began to suspect those many hours a day in which he didn't know anything about you: a message, a call, even an emoticon! Nothing.

This is how he ends up emptying his doubts on Baji, who explains without complications that he already knew. Well, everyone knew them, except him. Of course your adorable boyfriend would run to question you.

"Is that true, baby?" He turns to look at you and you nod in response "why didn't you tell me anything?"

"You never asked, Fuyu" you just shrugged "Besides, everyone knows! It's very obvious"

He sighed, still unable to believe it "I couldn't have been so clueless… or yes?"

"What do you think"

After a few days, Chifuyu did manage to get over the shock, in fact he brings you drinks and fruits after each routine session while they talk about random topics.

—mitsuya!

From the beginning of the relationship, Mitsuya knew about your workout addiction. He would take you to the gym and pick you up to go together, while you told the other what you did during the day. He even asked to know your meal plan so he could prepare it for you.

He loves you very much, which is why he wants to protect you as much as possible despite knowing full well that you can handle your "obsession".

"That looks really heavy, baby, be careful" Mitsuya was using his half hour off to watch you do your thing at the gym.

"Baby, did you come to bring me lunch or tell me what to do?"

"I have to take care of you, honey"

Mitsuya will definitely not stop worrying that you might hurt yourself by overdoing your crazy routine but he can live with that.

—hakkai!

Surprising Hakkai was easy if you knew how to hide the surprise very well. So when he found out about you workout addiction, he initially refused to believe it.

I mean, how was it possible that his sweet and adorable couple could do 200 sit-ups and 100 push-ups a day? Or hold up some kind of weight?

His mind was not able to assimilate it. But that was the reality, he was still amazed as you prepared to warm up.

"Are you seriously doing all this, cutie?" He asked, full of surprise when he noticed that blackboard full of excessive numbers and positions at the back of you room.

"I already told you yes, babe, can you hand me the hand weight?"

Yes, maybe Hakkai will never get over it, much less that blackboard.

—takemichi!

Looking beyond your flashy addiction, for Takemichi to recognize that you were actively athletic was admirable and disappointing at the same time.

Don't get him wrong, he appreciated that you were really energetic and motivated but knowing that you were even stronger than him made him miserable. Or that's what he confessed to you the other day.

"I can't, baby.." said the blonde with his head down "I can never be as strong as you"

"Oh, of course you can, honey!" You squealed to encourage him, you knew your boy had potential. You just had to help him organize his messy thoughts "We can train together next time. I can help you with that"

"Would you do that for me?" His eyes lit up when he heard you, hugging you tightly when you nodded happily.

Over time, Takemichi learned to see you as a figure of inspiration, asking you to teach him any routine that suited his body and all the tips to stay fit and more skillful.

—kazutora!

The first time you mentioned your "hobby" to Kazutora was that afternoon when you asked him to come pick you up after his workout at the gym.

Thousands of doubts arose in his mind: Did you train? Did you go to boxing classes? He felt dizzy, how was it possible, if you were so fucking adorable! But seeing you punching that punching bag so fiercely after a round of exercises answered all of his doubts: his couple was an exercise addict.

"Tora, here!" When he managed to spot you in front of the gym entrance, he ran up to you. Smiling, you stood on tiptoe and gave him a kiss.

"Why were you l-?" Suddenly, kazutora handed you a small bag containing a sports top "Mh? And that?"

"I got it for you, cutie" he smiled, kissing your forehead "You need it for your exercises, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I don't support you?"

You crossed your arms "Babe, did you buy it because I need it or because you want to see me use it?"

"I.. I won't answer that" You couldn't help but laugh at his blushing cheeks.

Kazutora managed to play you along as the love between the two grew, offering himself as a punching bag in exchange for closing the "training session" with kisses and lots of cuddles.

©2024 ／ ENJOY ♡ — OK, but I felt sooo canon baji’s reaction haha. And I'm sorry if there are some mistakes in the writing 💀 I still haven't perfected my englishhh. I'll be back soon with second part, wait for it 👀 Thank u for reading, babes!!

[uchihaxitachi]

coincidences | someone asks you on a date |

it has been a few months since you have rescued the s-ranked criminal ninja, there have been several instances of cute moments between you two, you two have also had your first kiss. of course that was when you were too drunk & you do not remember, itachi has also not reminded you of that at all. despite everything, the one promise that the uchiha always fulfills is ‘i will protect you’ for protecting him. because he is in debt and bla bla bla. frankly — now you two are better off called ‘friends’ or maybe something different which you two wouldn’t ever explore easily.

you know he carries secrets, just because he keeps you company does not mean you have any right to probe through them. perhaps this is why itachi seems so comfortable around you. you don’t ask him about what it feels to be an akatsuki member, what it means to be an s-ranked criminal, what it means to be a shinobi, what does the headband signify? you’re more than happy being a normal human being who does not really know about chakras, about ninjutsu, genjutsu, taijutsu whatever. just a normal cafe library owner living her life peacefully.

your cafe door opened, and it was none other than the man in the straw hat, this time you were at the counter & you beamed at his presence. “oh, itachi ! welcome back!” you cheerfully grinned; while he removed his hat and smiled gently at you. “glad to be back, it’s been what- 10 days or so?” itachi muses. aw, he has started remembering things too.. especially how long it’s been since you two have seen each other? downright adorable!!

before you could say anything further, a guy barged in. he was a regular customer now, he had just finished his usual order and was here to pay the bill. “y/n san, thank you, your cheesecakes, lovely as always.” he hummed, while you smiled. “aw thanks! i’m so glad you liked it.” itachi did nothing but observe.

“i was wondering if you’re free tonight, uhm, for dinner and stuff.” he smiled, a little timid as the proposal as you blinked. “uhm, is this a date?” you raised a brow, clarifying his intentions before hand. before you could say anything in response after the man nodded diligently, a part within you wanted to see itachi’s reaction. he looked torn, confused between telling the guy to piss off & letting you go on the date.

you gritted your teeth a little, sighing. of course… why were you even imagining things like that with the uchiha. his world and yours are completely different. funny how both you and itachi were similar in thinking in certain aspects — which is why you two have gotten along so well. you nodded at the man, smiling. “thank you, so so much for the offer. however, i won’t be able to join you for the date, i am not looking for anyone at the moment.” your rejection was polite but clear. the guy smiled, of course a little dejected but left with that.

your eyes then wandered towards itachi, not talking about what just happened. you knew too well, talking about this wouldn’t yield into anything. “so, itachi, do you want to join me for dinner?”

itachi half-smiled, his usual, content & yet so deranged smile. content for him, deranged for you because it wrecks your fucking heart up. he nodded, looking up at you. “is it a date?” the tone was teasing, and when you were offered banter by the solemn uchiha himself — you wouldn’t back down.

“date? yes, but don’t forget we’re already married.” you rolled your eyes, watching how his cheeks betray him with a slight blush.

he leans forward, flicking your forehead. getting a bit serious as the next words flicker out of his mouth. “let’s meet for dinner tonight at your place. allow me to be the chef. allow me to… talk a little about myself.” he offers, and you nodded, flicking his forehead back with a nod.

maybe today’s the day you will uncover him a tad, or maybe he is just going to tell you about himself so you know you can still run away if you wanted to.

[penaltyboxboxbox]

to your point about f1 fandom not being that annoying, you’re so right. i’ve been in a variety of fandoms, some (*cough* voltron *cough*) where people literally tried to severely injure other people over ship discourse. nothing in f1 can top that, at least as far as i’ve seen ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

YES THIS LIKE....idk the vitriol that does go around in f1 fandom AT LEAST IN MY OPINION is pretty comparable to what happens in other niches of sports fans, just in a different way. like the way the harassment and hatred does proliferate imo, reminds me very much of how like...... non-online cis het men also bully and hate on each other about sports teams and players. not to say it doesnt get intense and deranged, just that its VERY DIFFERENT and dare i say? more socially acceptable- if not acceptable than Understood- than it is to do similar things over something like anime characters or a video game.

I mean the very nature of sports is creating in-groups and out-groups........we're expected to have a level of animosity towards each other, and i think theres a lot more of a level of understanding when fellow sport fans dont like you because of who you support, vs in traditional fandom there is not always that built in understanding of like "oh people who like x will not like you if you like y" and theres i guess a lot less established rules/norms around who is in what group/what's acceptable in that group/etc etc etc..

I think at the end of the day- wether we are talking rpf or not- the annoyingness of sports fandoms is a very different beast, as it is very much based in a media that is completely BUILT on fighting each other, being us vs them, so the people within that fandom have some sort of understanding of the beef that they may perpetrate or receive.........and it is all based off of REAL THINGS happening before our REAL EYES, and i think there is some understanding in that about how real people get things wrong or tell lies to cheat or whatever, because teams are made of real people and people are fallible and biased, the teams themselves are just as human and ever changing as the fandom is...

vs traditional fandom media was not made to be in-fought over, it is purely individuals perceiving the exact same fictional text through different lenses and deciding who is consuming that text right or wrong. I think the drama largely comes from there not being enough compelling conflict within the text, or not being able to deal with intense conflicts within the text, and just like. spewing all that all over the internet. Like we're having moral debates over the actions of villains from a childrens cartoon some days. Be serious.

At the end of the day i think people yearn to be a part of the in group, and fandoms a lot of the time, are kind of just sports for nerds, and i say that as a nerd. But because traditional fandom is not like sports, and they dont get real fights to be invested in every week, they have to just start fights with each other because their show doesnt have any new episodes or the sequel movie didnt get cleared.

[autocat5876]

villain p.ai.nter full post since the last one was just a reblog yeahhh 🔥🔥🔥

sebastian goes to ask p.ai.nter for help with stopping the expendables for as long as possible as he knows it can control the turrets, and p.AI.nter is OBSESSED with him. genuinely would do anything for him. so sebastian pretends to have a relationship (platonic or romantic still up for debate) with it in order to keep it working and confides his plan to whoever it would consider a close friend. he tells them that he's only using p.AI.nter for the rest of them to escape- after all, a computer can't exactly swim can it? so they begin planning for the escape, all the while seb continues lying to p.AI.nter saying they'll all be escaping including it. weeks pass, and p.AI.nter begins doubting its ability to leave the blacksite as it's electric and would die in water. meanwhile, sebastian comes to a horrible realization that it DOES actually feel something for p.AI.nter but keeps it to himself. no one can know.

and then one day, p.AI.nter manages to hack into some kind of mic in a room with sebastian's confidants in it without realizing and hears them talking. talking about it. talking about sebastian. about the past weeks- MONTHS- being nothing but lies. words to butter it up to do sebastian's wants. and it snaps. it thinks to itself "if i can't escape? No One Can". it hacks fully into the blacksite's systems in a fit of rage and begins its control over everything in it. it was treated like sebastian's plaything, so now everyone and thing in the site is its entertainment.

i'm thinking it gets some kind of android body to attach the monitor to? i don't have much in terms of design on it but all i know is that in the monitor where p.AI.nter's left eye (if you were facing it, it would be on your right) should be there's a shotgun bullet hole in it... i wonder who could have done that...

songs that remind me of the au

DO I EVEN NEED TO EXPLAIN!!!! COME ON!!!! i have a very specifc scene in my head during the "i was told i had to walk away" part of p.AI.nter looking down at the ground walking down a hallway and as it does the turrets in the ceiling begin to descend out and then at "i'll fake a smile they've seen before" it flashes to p.AI.nter pre-villain before cutting to its current expression with the bullet hole and a deranged grin (since in my design it's nearly always smiling or grinning like mad. if you see it without a smile on its face then it's too late for you) and then "they'll see i am so much more" it looks up at the camera and the turrets point along with the look and yeah. Yeah this is villain p.AI.nter

uh uh uh seb's the hero p.AI.nter's the villain blah blah blah i don't even have anything to say other than the following lyric clips . good lord. blue sebastian green p.AI.nter

that last line there in specific too... since in my head p.AI.nter sets up bases in seb's old shop locations half to get rid of any places seb may try to hunker down and hide again and half to show that it can take the things that matter to sebastian just like he did to it.

[nadvs]

I’ve seen a bit of mixed opinions about how exactly Rafe would be in a relationship, some write him as just plain abusive and cruel while others characterize him as a alpha male hellbent on being the provider and very dominant instead of (mentally, emotionally) abusive. And because I love your characterization of Rafe and how you write him in relationships, I’m so curious to see what’s your take on him with a gf, canon and/or headcanon.

I also know that things like this are often up for interpretation when it comes to the writer and whatever their choice is for the creative direction they want to go in but still 😭. Like I’ve fell in love with Rafe being soft to and for his significant other and not downright abusing her.

aw thank you so so much 💘 i may have accidentally written another very long-winded character analysis…

so 100% like you said, every writer has the control to interpret him differently and they’re all valid - that’s part of the reason there are so many rafe fics that i adore. there are so so so many good approaches to his character

i can definitely see rafe being abusive and controlling. he carries the trauma and self-loathing that would make him behave like that. i mean lbr babygirl is a murderer and has physically harmed people 👀 so i can imagine him treating someone he’s supposed to love very poorly. i understand the angle that fic writers take that he doesn’t know how to show love or take love or even feel love because of who he is, so it makes him cruel and domineering - BUT i think he can be crass and violent and deranged due to nurture and not nature, which is why i think he has a side to him we don’t often see

he carries a tragic amount of trauma. he struggles with addiction. he feels remorse for his actions. he cries for help from his dad and gets told to toughen up. he fears losing control of his intrusive thoughts and that they’ll lead him to do things he shouldn’t do. he has terrible mental health. and it’s all from his upbringing and the way his father dismisses him and punishes him for having feelings. he wants to get better and he just needs someone to believe in him (see this edit that owns me) idk i like to think when rafe is given the opportunity to love, he can and he does :( that’s why i rly enjoy writing him as being a bit more tender

ngl i hate ward but he ATE when he said “the devil’s got you” lol because it’s rafe through and through. he’s not evil itself; evil finds him and he’s crap at fighting it

OK SORRY to actually answer your question about how i think rafe is as a boyfriend - it would feel like i’m diverting from canon too much if i wrote him as a total sweetheart. imo he’d have toxic traits like jealousy and possessiveness in a relationship. i can see him being controlling and overbearing and bossy and short-tempered, too. but i think in the snippets we’ve seen with him and sofia, he also can be playful and flirty and sweet and actually calm

i see him with an anxious attachment style - clingy, hypervigilant, jealous and deep down, always expecting for his fear that he’s not truly loved for who he is to come true. he is insecure as hell

i also think his love language is physical touch. i’m biased bc i write so much smut lmao but i think his favorite (and maybe at times, only) way to give and show love is through intimacy. and lowkey i think he would have a praise kink because he wants to be reminded of how much his girl loves him hehe

imo rafe is the type of character that can be soft - he just needs to feel safe to do so. he requires extra care and unconditional love. he needs to feel like no matter what he does, he’s special to his girl. i think there’s an inner child in him that needs to feel like he’s valued just the way he is and doesn’t have to prove anything to be loved

rafe does not like himself, let alone love himself. he literally tells himself, sobbing, in a quiet and vulnerable and solitary moment, that he sucks. his self-loathing makes him treat others very badly, but i think in the right setting with the right person, he wants to give and receive love. he just doesn’t always know how to do it