#to [completely sincere] 'i care about you.' in TWO LINES

[danse--macabre]

thinking about Tirazel as a romancable companion has made me a little ill.... she has a history of manipulative people dating her and using her for her father's connections/money/to further their own interests and she's often agreed despite knowing they're manipulating her because 1. she wants to spite her dad 2. she hates herself and unrequited desire feels 'normal' and 'what she deserves'

like for Tirazel, a relationship in which you lie about your feelings and manipulate is just. normal. "this is all just a silly act. ha ha. flirt flirt flirt. promises we won't fulfil. honeyed words. sweet words. false words. this is how it goes." if you try and go off-script in act 1, she'll correct you / bicker with you, will tell you not to pretend you're interested in anything else, won't even hear otherwise. in act 2, she'll outright confront you about exactly what you want off her because it's been 'too nice' / she's worried, because you've not tried to get one over on her yet.

but the thing is, Tirazel desperately wants to love someone genuinely and openly. She will give you her heart fully if you are patient with her and consistently demonstrate that your feelings are genuine. It takes her time to come around to this, but she will bare that part of her soul. And she will be sweet and loyal and protective to you too. She's a closet romantic and really desires something equally romantic - but private. She'll go from showy flirtation in act 1 that she'll tell you 'is just for show, is part of the game darling' to private, intimate, meaningful gestures in act 3.

girl just wants to love! but doesn't believe it's possible!

[lorelune]

(minors dni & ageless blogs dni /// inspired by this post and brainworms with @petrichorium)

"dear?" neuvillette asks. you're sprawled out on his chaise lounge, reading today's issue of the steambird. you're distracted.

"yes?"

"what exactly does it mean if you're 'wet'?"

you smile at him sweetly from across his office, "... come again?"

he looks overwhelmingly serious. though he does, occasionally, toss a joke or two into his daily conversations, it's rare. you know the look he wears when he does so. and in this moment? he looks completely sincere.

"if you are wet, the meaning, please. i believe you should know?"

"i-i mean," you laugh. "neuvillette, love, dearest— are you... being entirely serious?"

"yes."

"ah, alright." your lover is the current incarnation of the hydro draconic primordial, but regardless. "to be damp. moist. covered in liquid, probably water?"

neuvillette brow scrunches. then relaxes after a moment and he shakes his head. the soft, curved horns that curl into his hair tremble with the motion. he smiles and shakes his head, shutting the book he'd be paging through. you catch a glimpse of the cover and— oh.

everything comes together.

"A Seaman's Conquest: The River's Maiden and Jewel" is the latest erotic novel by the quietly-famed 'Épée Honnête'. you recognized the cheesy art on the novel, and the flourishing text. you've read one or two of the author's works, but in the quiet and private of your own home. stashed atop each other in your nightstand, with a seldom-used vial soft oil. their prose is a... bit over the top. but they're also a sensation.

you have to wonder how and why neuvillette, of all people, is reading the book (and by your brief look, seems to be about half-way through it.) it is not the kind of thing he'd pick up himself— you've never seen neuvillette reading anything other than case files and evidence prior. yet apparently he's been ripping into erotica. right under your nose.

which explains his question.

"o-oh!" you swallow. "you mean wet like—"

"yes."

you squeeze your thighs together.

much to your initial surprise, neuvillette had incredibly limited experience when it came to bodily pleasure. intimacy in and of itself is something that he clearly yearns for, but perhaps does not know how to convey. you're not sure if neuvillette, in all his stature, could ever truly be bumbling, but he gets close to it with physicality.

he's careful. an incredibly fast learner but bent on taking his time, being thorough— meaning that most of your physical encounters are kissing under both of your lips are bruised and slick. you know that neuvillette feels aroused in those moments; the hard press of his clothed cock nudged up to you is proof of it. and you're turned on in those moments— horribly. you've soaked through your panties on more than one occasion. he makes you so— wet.

"wet is like... female arousal." you say simply, steeling yourself. you'll jump him otherwise.

"it this makes you... wet? is this like perspiration?"

"no, no. not at all. not really." you shake your head with a laugh. "it's like. slick? f-from my insides. it's lubrication for intercourse, to be entirely clinical about it."

"... but it's indicative of arousal?"

"entirely." you nod, trying to focus on the case file in front of you. your eyes have skimmed the same line three times.

neuvillette pauses and your hear a flutter of pages before his 'A Seaman's Conquest' closes once more, "have i made you wet before?"

you swallow. get ahold of yourself.

"yes. frequently."

"hm." neuvillette hums and his chair creaks as he sits back. he picks up his silver goblet and swirls it. the gem on it's side refracts the warm glow of the office light, dragging your gaze to his.

he's looking at you— hungry. perhaps something else. something insatiable.

"i want to know more." he tells you. rises. walk toward you with the defined click of his heeled boots on the hardwood fo the floor. "i feel as if i was missing something important without this knowledge. and there's more to be understood."

"well, ask away. i'm an open book." you tell him, craning your neck to meet his eyes.

"may i make a request?"

"of course."

"i..." neuvillette swallows around his words. you drag him onto the lounge with you and lean into his shoulder. moral support and all.

"it's fine if you don't know quite what to ask. or what you want." you assure him. you'll eat up anything he gives you, really.

"i know exactly what i want, it's a matter of phrasing."

"oh, yeah?" you wonder if he's nervous about you not understanding his desires. or if he's worried about being too blunt or forward.

you tilt your head back until neuvillette coaxes you down into his lap. his hand, gloved hand, smooths down your jaw. his fingertips trail down your neck, pressing into your curves and divots. bones and flesh alike. it's exploratory.

neuvillette touch slips down your collar, to bare skin. you shudder. "i'm curious."

"y-yeah? seems like you are."

he laughs, gentle and under his breath. his palm cups your cheek, soothing and kind. with a tilt of his head:

"i'd like to make you wet with my touch, and then taste you."

he says it hushed; it's just meant for you and you alone to hear. the intention of it makes you feel crazy, out of your skin. the look he's pinning you with. the ability he wields while being entirely sincere is going to undo you.

you swallow, a little sound sticking in the back of your throat. you squeeze your thighs together and close your eyes, "neuvillette, you're killing me here."

"am i?" there's a hint of a tease in his voice. you want to coax out more of it. you try and bury your face in his hip, but he doesn’t let you. he drag your chin straight and holds his thumb over the swell of your bottom lip.

"yes, y-you are." you mean to sound firm about it. but it comes out as a whine.

"so precious." he says softly, adoring. his thumb presses in into your mouth and runs along your teeth, into your gums. "would you like if i tasted you too?"

"fuck, neuvillette—" your words get muffled as his fingers press into your mouth further. he presses down on your tongue, the scent of clean leather and his gentle personal cologne almost suffocate it. you welcome it.

"is that a yes?"

you try to reply, but your words don't come out— his fault— so you only nod. perhaps too enthusiastically, but neuvillette doesn't seem to mind. his lips curl into a gentle smile, and he strokes over your cheeks. his only hand trails lower, finding home on your inner thigh.

"are you wet now?"

"'pworably—"

"cute." he says again. he still looks hungry. like he's going to eat you alive. there's an appetite in him, even if he doesn't know what it fully is or what to do with it. it seems, it really seems, like he's learning it. "may i find out—?"

"Monsieur Neuvillette!" The sharp crack of knocking on the door interrupts him as he leers over you. It's Laith, on the Seven— "the court time is within a half hour. do you require an escort?"

his grip on your thigh tightens. almost to point of hurting, but in the best way. you know you're wet now.

"no, laith, i will be alright on my own. i will be departing shortly."

"the prosecution's attorney sent over some last minute evidence files and requested i deliver them as well." the knob of the door starts to shift and you almost bolt up and away. neuvillette places his spit-covered hand on your chest to brace you down.

"i do not require the documents at this time. have them prepared for me at the opera epiclese."

the knob slips back into place, "of course, Monsieur. i'll see that they're delivered."

steps echo away from the door and you exhale a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding, "awful timing."

"unfortunate." neuvillette sighs. "truly unfortunate."

his duty is paramount. you know this as he helps you to stand and as he straightens your close. he's being more dutiful about it than he could be, given his next court time is so close. you relish it.

"... are you wet?"

"right now?" you feel sticky in a way that's a bit cold now. you press your forehead to his lips in a quiet beg for a steadying kiss. he relents easily and gives it to you. "yes. you have that effect on me."

neuvillette takes a steadying breath and squeezes around your shoulders, "i apologize for the timing of things, but—"

"i know." you tell him. "it's okay. besides, i have fingers and some toys at home. you've given me new material to work with."

"... you think about me when you're pleasuring yourself?" he blinks at you, eyes wide. you can't help but smirk.

"consistently." you nod and beam at him. "often. basically every time. i haven't even seen your cock but my mind's eye has come up with some creative theories and visual concepts."

that gets him to blush, a high, pearly pink that's almost purple. it fades into his hairline.

"this is going to be a particularly difficult court session."

"i can only imagine. is it my fault?"

"only partially." neuvillette assures you with no bite. "perhaps blame wriothesley for that book he lent me. he insisted i read it and get back to him for a review."

"huh."

you could lose it. really. wriothesley is a bastard. you should punch him. or kiss him— except you've grown from those days and you haven't seen that busted-lip smile of his in years. nice to know he's still doing you favors. you should send him an edible arrangement.

"and myself, too. thoughts to entertain at home, and not at the office."

"perhaps, perhaps." you tell him. you don't mind. you brush your lips to his cheek.

"would you visit me, after court?" who knows when that will be. you don't really care. you have a key, afterall.

"of course." you'll have tea prepared. perhaps sex education flashcards. maybe. or you'll break out the lacey slip that's been seldom-touched since purchase and surprise him. who knows. the world's your oyster.

and as you walk with neuvillette out of the palais mermonia and see him off on one of the aquabuses, you catch it in him again. in the almost-longing gaze he sends you as he departs, you see it. something awakening. old and new all at once in him. directed at you. he's famished. or, perhaps—

thirsty.

[super-clearlysaltybouquet]

The One With the Blouse (1/2)

Part 1/2

Wolfstar x reader      Sirius Black x reader      Remus Lupin x reader      Sirius Black x Remus Lupin      Sirius Black x reader x Remus Lupin 

Established couple (throuple)

Summary: Reader cares about how people see her, tensions boil over when the group get ready for a Gryffindor party

Warnings:

Angst (argument)

Hurt (and minimal comfort…)

Lots of insecurity, feeling disposable in a relationship

my first fic ever so please be kind…will potentially write a part 2 if people like this one (feedback is welcomed)

word count: 1.8k

Sirius looks so pretty in his white blouse. The silk brings out his dark hair perfectly, and the fabrics warm undertones complimented his pale skin. “Is all the fuss really necessary?” Sirius asked, bothering with the bow neckline of the blouse.

“You want to look good, don’t you?” You respond stiffly, tying, and re-tying the bow, unsatisfied with how it sits around his neck. 

“You forgot to Iron it.”, you say, Tying, untying, re-tying. Completely zeroed in.

“Does it really matter?” Sirius responds, completely exasperated.

Remus watches on from the armchair by his bed. It’s standard routine at this point. Before every common room party, Remus is ready by dinner - always a plain top and trousers, today a white T-shirt with blue jeans. “Very James Dean”, Sirius had said. He's been sitting there entirely patient on the same armchair for the past two hours, reading only half attentively as you and Sirius get ready.

“Sweetheart, the bow is fine”, Remus advises gently. He’s not in a rush, but he can tell that as much as you usually enjoy it, today the up-doing process is stressing you out. 

“No..no, not yet”, you respond absentmindedly, still fixated on Sirius’s blouse. 

Tying, untying, re-tying the bow. Sirius huffs out a humourless laugh and takes a quick step back turning completely away from you. Your hands are still held up, frozen where his neck would be. Your eyebrows furrow, and Remus looks up from his book.

“It’s the same every bloody time!”, Sirius suddenly cries out, you’re completely taken aback. 

“Sirius”, Remus warns.

“Godric, Forgive me! I didn’t iron my fucking blouse!”, he feigns, “You’re suffocated me” he finishes, coldly, glaring daggers straight through you. He’s still so beautiful, with his ebony hair hanging long and dark over his face, but the pit in your stomach is somehow darker. 

Remus is stood to his full height now, book abandoned. “You’re out of line”, his anger still somehow contained. And Sirius has the gall to let out a laugh. The party in the common room seems to have started. You can hear music and laughing below the bluestone floors. You try and divert your focus to that lively sound and take it off the painful bob in your throat. 

“I’m out of line? You’re kidding Moony”, Sirius laughs. his lack of sincerity is incredibly unnerving. “The bitch is vapid”, and your heart nearly stops, you can feel the sick climbing up your throat. Remus is seething, but you’re not sure he knows exactly what to say anyway. 

“What?”, is all you can muster hopelessly. 

Sirius takes a step towards you, and you all seem to move at once. You take one step back at the same time Remus steps between you and the shorter boy.

“Cut it out Sirius”, Remus warns, towering above the both of you with his height, and his domineering demeanour. But Sirius is undeterred.

“You. are. entirely. vapid”, he repeats, now looking over at you past Remus’s shoulder. “you’re just like my mother” he whispers to himself, like some sort of secret revelation, and you just want it all to end. “Completely superficial, shallow, and entirely vapid” he seethes, before turning back away from you again, taking in a slow deep breath. You think you can hear his heart beating nearly just as quick as yours.

Sirius’s accusation sits inside you. You can’t deny that you do like nice things. Your jewellery was all made custom, you shopped at the best boutiques on Diagon Alley, and you kept up appearances. 

Your parents have always been devastatingly high-achieving. You were no stranger to the odd charity gala, or pureblood ball. So, for you that meant endless expectations to live up to. Making sure clothes were ironed, hair was done right and shoes were all polished was just second nature. You pay attention to these things because you have to. Your label as a “washed-up-witch” in Witch Weekly’s coverage of the Macmillan ball in 72 serves as a reminder. Filtered through pre-teen public humiliation, these things stick. As deflated as you felt regarding Sirius’s outburst, you could feel an equal anger bubbling just below the surface. 

“You did not just compare me to your draconian fanatic of a mother”, is the first thing that leaves your lips. Your eyes are wide, and that anger is bubbling over. Yet, your voice is so level that you think you just might have the upper hand. You can tell that Sirius was expecting you to respond with equal fervour, he wanted a fight, and your composure has caught him off guard. You think for a second, maybe he didn’t even mean to hurt you. 

Remus would back you up if you needed him to, but he knows you really don’t need him to. You’d like to say your piece, and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze in support.

“Just because you can afford to reject tradition and expectation doesn’t mean we all have that luxury” you seethe.

Sirius has always had the reputation of a Black Sheep, but it made him shine nevertheless. Every act of rebellion on his part was praised and admired by your peers. But as a woman in the 70s, and the only child in a pureblood family - you were often subject to incomparable scrutiny.

“Maybe I’m too much sometimes” your voice breaks, and the tears have started to flow of their own accord now. Rushing like silent broken faucets, or shower heads. Sirius’s eyes flash with regret. You look up at the ceiling to blink them back, and Remus gives your hand another squeeze, silently shaking his head and biting his tongue. He’s glaring at Sirius with a healthy mixture of disappointment, and something akin to fury.

“I can’t help but care about how I look”, you whisper to no one in particular, “This is usually fun, getting dressed up together”, and Sirius looks completely in despair. That almost cocky, goading aura that surrounded him has been evaporated by your undeniable heartbreak. He’s fidgeting with the hem of the blouse now, and his fingers move hesitantly up to his neckline, where your hands sat only moments ago. He’s palming at the skin there, as it slowly turns pink from the pressure.

“I’m only fussy because I care, Sirius”, you say wavering, lip quivering as your crying takes both your eyes, and your voice. He can’t look you in the eye.

The subtext isn’t missed by either of the boys, you care because you love them. You enjoy dressing them up because you want them to look good and enjoy themselves. To protect them from any anxiety associated with landing on a worst dressed list, even informally among the Gryffindor party-goers three flood below.

You look down at your disco boots, perfect stockings and shift dress. It all feels so silly now, wearing the outfit you picked out three days in advance. You want to crawl out of your skin, and you really don’t feel like dancing. Sirius is still palming at his collarbones, staring with dazed and shallow eyes at his feet and the floor below them. You can’t see his face properly behind his hair, but you know him well enough to think he might be crying too. “I hope you’re proud of yourself Black” Remus chimes in, and you wince at the use of that last name. Remus’s hand rubs small circles around the back of your neck, you can't help but want his hot skin off you.

“I-I didn’t-”, Sirius starts, but you walk from the room with Remus quick at your heels before he can finish. 

The stairway down to the common room is empty, with the party building up below. It’s just you and Remus standing still on the stairs. “You know he didn’t mean that”, Remus says kindly, more for your sake than Sirius’s. He’s brushing the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, and gently pushing the hair back from around your face. “He gets like this when he’s stressed, it’s not your fault”, he reassures, kissing the top of your head. 

“I stressed him, I should have just let him be”, you whisper, and Remus is silent. This is the first big fight you've had as a couple. You’re a slightly more recent addition to their pairing. Quips and little disagreements have never been an issue. Even when you were all just friends these things were always resolved in a matter of minutes - or a few hours at most, but this is the first time a spat has ended in tears. 

You wonder if this was a mistake. You hope to Godric that Remus isn’t thinking it too. “I think I’ll go to bed”, you say finally, and you can feel him frown. 

“But you were so excited for tonight” he says sadly, more of an acknowledgment, you know he doesn’t mean to change your mind. You’re all hardly in the mood for a party.

“Maybe you and Sirius can still have some fun”, and you hope it doesn’t come across as bitter, but Remus’s solemn expression suggests otherwise, he lets it go.

“I’ll talk to him”, Remus assures, as he molds his body around yours in a much-needed embrace. Having him so close stirs a vulnerability within you, and you’re sure that if you could see his face, you wouldn't have the courage to open your mouth. 

“Maybe we were wrong”, you whisper into his chest, scared. 

Remus is burning 20 degrees hotter.

“What makes you say that?”, he responds measured, but the unease in his voice is palpable. He’s pulled back to look at your face now, and you fidget under his gaze. You give him a look to say without words, ‘are you kidding?’.

“But you know we love you”, Remus says desperately, more of a question than a statement, gripping the sides of your head firmly, so as to say, ‘please believe me’. You just shake your head between his hands. “You heard him, didn’t you?”, you start, “Completely superficial, shallow, and entirely vapid” you quote, and Remus cringes. 

“I’ll talk to him”, he repeats.

“No, no its okay, I’m going to bed”, you say, almost completely defeated by the tidal wave of self-doubt flooding through you.

“Dove-”

“How about you talk to him, and you two can decide what we do from here”, Remus looks heartbroken at the implication.

“Surely you don’t think we don’t want to see you anymore?”, There seems to be something sparkly welling in his eyes too, Godric, what a horrible evening.

You’re so in your head you hardly register Remus’s question. When he goes to pull you close again you take a small step back, your fingers still interlinked. The moonlight shines in through the stained glass, and the sparkle of salt in Remus’s eyes begins to fall. You can hear Diana Ross’s smooth voice echoing off the stone from downstairs, tonight could have gone so differently. You can’t help but feel you’ve caused all this. Whatever animosity Sirius seems to have been harbouring towards you, you’re sure it lives inside Remus too, even if you can’t see it yet. You turn around before you have the chance to look back.

“I’m going to bed”.

[bucks-babe]

I’ve been here before lol. I just had to let you know, your virgin Bucky stories live rent free in my head. I hope one day to see him become… not a virgin 👀 if you feel like writing it of course ❤️

Pairing: Virgin!Bucky x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, smut, loss of virginity, slightly sub Bucky, soft!dom reader, riding, multiple orgasms (both), overstimulation, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (Don’t do that), copious amounts of cum, like so much, Bucky has a big dick, cumming untouched, cumming in boxers, ball riding (I know, there’s something wrong with me), crying during sex (Bucky this time, not reader lol), crying after sex, aftercare, Bucky is so sweet, taking care of Bucky, washing Bucky’s hair (This is a warning), my limited ass vocabulary (It’s a warning), actual brain rot, no use of Y/N, check tags at the bottom

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: This has been in the works for so long but I took so damn long to finish it. I would have never guessed that so many of yall would be so invested in this story and Bucky’s journey. This is not the last you will see of these two, don’t worry. I think we should give them each a nickname. Leave a comment on what each of their names should be. Legit just had them call each other baby this entire fic. If I end up giving them nicknames, I’ll go back and put them in for all their stories. Anyway, enjoy!

As you slowly open your eyes, feeling the warmth and comfort of Bucky's embrace, a sense of safety washes over you. His strong arms are wrapped tightly around you. As you turn to face him, you see that Bucky is already awake, his deep blue eyes gazing at you with adoration and love. You can feel the rhythm of his breathing, steady and soothing against your skin. In this moment, nothing else matters except for the love and contentment you feel in each other's arms

"Good morning," he whispers, his voice husky with sleep. The sunlight filters through the window, casting a gentle glow upon his face, accentuating the lines of worry etched there.

With a small smile, you shift closer to him, reveling in the intimacy of the moment. "Good morning," you reply softly, tracing circles on his chest.

Bucky's fingers instinctively tighten around you, as if afraid to let go. "Last night... I didn't mean to let go like that" he admits shyly, his cheeks flushing a rosy hue. "I didn't know I was into that." Bucky felt embarrassed, not being used to letting go and having someone else take care of him. It was such a foreign feeling, yet he loved it, being able to trust someone completely, trusting you more than he does himself. Your heart swells at his vulnerability.

"Oh Bucky, it's okay. I liked it, I liked taking care of you. There's nothing to be ashamed about."

Bucky's eyes soften, relief flooding his features as he takes in your words. "You liked it?" he asks, his voice tinged with both surprise and hope.

A gentle nod escapes you, your fingers continuing their soothing motion on his chest. "Yes, Bucky. I enjoyed every moment of it," you reassure him, your voice filled with sincerity.

He exhales a breath he didn't realize he was holding, a weight lifting off his shoulders. "I've never let myself be vulnerable like that before," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm scared of losing control."

A tender smile graces your lips as you cup his cheek, caressing it with your thumb. "Bucky, being vulnerable doesn't mean losing control. It means trusting someone enough to let them in, to share yourself completely." Your words carry the weight of understanding and acceptance.

He gazes at you, his blue eyes reflecting a mixture of desire and hesitation. "I don't want to disappoint you, you know? You've been with experienced men before who knew how to pleasure you. I'm not sure if I can do the same for you." The poor thing was terrified of letting you down. He loves you so much, but what if he can’t please you? Would you leave him for someone better? How many people would even want to be with a man who knows almost nothing about pleasing a woman? 

Your hand reaches out to cup Bucky's cheek, your thumb brushing across his rough stubble. His skin is warm and soft under your touch. As you sit up, your hand still resting on Bucky's chest, feeling the faster beat of his heart under your palm. His skin is warm and smooth against your fingertips, a reassuring and comforting touch.

"Last night you gave me the most intense orgasm I've ever experienced with a man. Those other men? They think that one trick that worked on one woman will work on every woman. But you, my love? You listened to me and my body, which is more than most men can say."

Your voice softens as you look into Bucky's eyes, seeing the raw emotion and vulnerability that lies within them. "Bucky, I don't want to give you the impression that you're not enough. You were amazing last night, and I’m glad that you trust me enough to share that part of yourself."

His eyes soften, a look of gratitude and relief washing over him. He leans in to kiss your forehead, his hand brushing against your cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of your lips. "Thank you," he whispers, the words feeling like a heavy weight finally lifting off his shoulders. He takes a deep breath, and you can see a newfound confidence and determination in his eyes. "I want to learn, to be better for you. To make you feel the way you felt last night, every time."

A smile tug at the corner of your lips as you lean in to kiss him gently. "I believe in you, Bucky. And I know that you'll learn and grow, just like you did last night. And I’ll be right there to show you how." With a reassuring nod, Bucky pulls you into a deep and passionate kiss, his hands cradling your face. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine.

Slowly, he pulls away from the kiss, leaving behind a trail of electric energy on your lips. "I want to make love to you today," he whispers. "I want to give you everything I have, and show you just how much I care." Your heart swells with love for the man who would give you anything.

“Are you sure, Bucky? We don’t have to do anything that you don’t feel comfortable doing. I’m perfectly fine waiting for you, however long it takes.” You cup his face, staring into his eyes, seeing determination yet anxiety in his eyes. He wants to do this, have you be his first and only, he’s sure of it.

“Yes. I want more, I want everything with you. Last night, making you feel good, it sparked something in me. I want to do it again. Fuck, you looked so sexy when you came.” Just at the thought of the taste of your pussy and the image of you writhing on the bed in pleasure makes his cock throb, filling with blood. The feel of your naked breasts pressed against him is doing nothing to stop it either.

“If you’re sure, baby, we will. You want to follow my lead or experiment by yourself?” The thought of you trusting him enough to let him do whatever he wants to your body makes him whine, bucking his hip into your bare core, the boxers doing little to hinder the feeling on his sensitive dick.

“Want to follow you, please.” As you take the covers of the pair of you, Bucky’s eyes go right to your tits, hands moving on their own accord to cup them. You’re proud that he was comfortable enough to touch you without hesitancy. 

You roll onto your back, Bucky following without a second thought, hands still on you, Bucky sits on his knees, admiring the view of your spread pussy. “I want you to finger me. You remember how, baby?” Of course Bucky remembers how, he remembers how much it made you moan and wiggle on the bed, how you were clenching on them when you came, how fucking tight you got. Bucky nods, right hand moving to your pussy. He needs to use his right hand, needs to feel how wet and tight you are. 

Thumb moving to your slit, he gathers the wetness that has been pooling there since you felt his hard cock through his boxers and drags it up to your clit, rubbing it just the way you taught him, the small gasp that leaves your lips lets him know he’s doing it right. His eyes can’t leave your pussy, memorized by the wetness leaving it. He trails his middle and ring finger down and slowly enters you, cock somehow getting even harder at your feel.

His metal hand comes down to rub your clit as his fingers speed up, wanting you to cum so fucking bad. “Just like that, baby. You’re doing so fucking well. Making me feel so good.” Bucky can feel his heavy balls pulling up, cum about to burst from his cock, hips thrusting in the air, meeting nothing. Heat creeps up his cheeks, he knows he’s going to cum before you without even touching anything. He wants so fucking bad to jerk his cock, coaxing his huge load out, but he can’t leave your pussy.

You clench tights around him, your orgasm building up as well. Bucky can’t handle it, the way your head hits the pillows, eyes closed in pleasure, moans getting higher in pitch. Within seconds, Bucky’s cock bursts, cum pouring from his tip, immediately soaking the front of his boxers, leaking down until it lands on the bed, his moans louder than yours. At the sound of his pleasure you cum, clit twitching under his fingers, waves upon waves passing through you. 

As you come down from your orgasm, you realize that Bucky is still cumming. “Baby, why won’t it stoppp, fuckk, please, feels so fucking good, shitt, please.”At his words the last of him cum dribbles out. The sight of his flushed cheeks and the soaking wet boxers almost makes you cum again. Sitting up, you push Bucky off the bed until he stands, taking off his underwear and pulling him back onto the bed, laying him down.

“You still want to do anything else, baby?” You desperately want to have his cock inside of you, have him cumming that much in your pussy, letting it leak out all over his balls down to the bed, but if he doesn’t want to go any further you’ll stop, no questions asked.

“Oh fuck yes! Want you to ride me please.” The whole of his sentence comes out as a moan, cock still sensitive and hard, ready for you to take it however you please. Straddling him, you grab him lining him up with your pussy. You look at him and at his nod, you start to sit on him. As soon as the tip breaches you, he cums, and he cums hard. “OH SHIT! FUCK, YES! FUCK I’M CUMMING!” He’s practically screaming, but he can’t find it in himself to care, the most intense orgasm of his life coursing through him. 

Hands flying to your hips, he pulls you all the way down, bucking into you with so much force you have to grab the headboard. “ OH FUCKING SHIT!  DON’T FUCKING STOP! DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” It’s not like you could even if you tried, only option to take his assault, and fuck if it doesn’t feel amazing. Your moans almost match his in volume, pussy still trying to adjust to the size of him, balls slapping against your ass. After a few seconds, you already feel his cum being forced out of you to make room for his cock. His cum now all over both of your sexes, his balls, your ass, and the bed.

His orgasm lasts minutes, the amount of cum leaving his cock never slowing down, hips never stop slamming into yours. During his orgasm, you cum too, the sight was so hot you couldn’t help yourself. When your pussy was clenching around him so tight he somehow got louder. Eventually, he orgasm abated and his hips stopped, laying limb on the bed. 

Shame washed over him, at how much he lost himself to his orgasm, how rough he was with you. “I’m so sorry, baby. Please tell me you’re okay. Please tell me I didn’t hurt you.” 

“Fuck, Bucky, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.” Bucky’s eyes widen, not expecting you to be so turned on by his orgasm. His cock was still rock hard inside of you, giving you an idea. “What position do you want to do next?” Bucky almost cums again at those words, he knows what he wants, but is almost embarrassed to ask. However, his cock is thinking for him, washing away his inhibitions.

“Can you ride me?” You just smile and start to pick up your hips but he stops you. “From the back.” You throb at that. He wants to watch your ass bounce on him. 

You pull off, hissing at the empty feeling and turn around. You grab his cum soaked balls and you feel them twitch in your palm. Pulling them up you turn your head to Bucky. “Do me a favor and close your legs for me.” He doesn’t ask a single question and does so immediately. You let his balls fall on top of his legs and put his cock right back in, not waiting a second to start bouncing, grinding your clit on his slick balls at the end of every bounce.

“Oh, fuck. How does your ass move like that, shit. Looks so sexy.” His hands ghost over your cheeks, not knowing what to do with the sight in front of him.

“Smack my ass, baby.” He groans, and lays a light slap to your right cheek. “Harder, Bucky. Leave your mark on me.” His Oh shit is ignored as he slaps you a little harder, still not hard enough, cock pulsing at the sight of your ass bouncing, feeling it move under his hands. “Don’t be a little pussy, baby. Give it a slap like a fucking man.” Maybe it was a little mean, but you needed to feel his hand coming down on you. His near constant moans get louder, clearing enjoying the degradation. The next slap is hard. “Yes, little harder, baby. Fuck! Just like that, keep going. Don’t stop, want your handprints all week.”

He keeps going, smacking you harder each time. His balls rubbing on your clit pull up and he cums once again. This time, though, he pulls out, jerking his cock, cumming all over your ass. “Fucking shit! Wanted me to mark your fucking ass? Well I’m fucking doing it. Cumming so much. Maybe I’ll just stick my dick in your ass and cum in there too.” You don’t know where that came from, but it makes you ride his balls faster, ass jiggling as he continues to cum on it. “That’s so fucking hot, keeping moving that fat ass on me.” You really don’t know where his dirty mouth is coming from but you don’t care because holy hell is it hot.

 Seconds later, Bucky can’t take it anymore and shoves his cock back in your pussy, spreading his legs back out and planting them on the bed so he can fuck up into you. With your ass moving so much with his thrusts, his cum is going everywhere. Bucky lands a hard slap to your cheeks, smacking his cum into them, spreading it all around.

Just like before, he cums for minutes, cum flowing out of your pussy. The entire of both of your hips and your ass and the bed is completely drenched with his cum. When he’s done he pulls you off his cock and spins you around so you’re facing him again. “Baby, my cock is still so fucking hard, I don’t know what to do.” You coo at him, setting your hand against his cheek.

“Don’t worry, baby, I got you.” Instead of slipping his cock back into you, you grind against it, with every roll of your hips his sensitive tip rubs your clit. “Does this feel good, baby?”

“Uh huh, so good.” You see his adam's apple bob and his bottom lip wobble. The feral part of his brain that was fucking you earlier is gone, now your sweet boyfriend is left. He’s not even looking at the way his tip pops out between your folds, no, he’s staring right into your eyes. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against him, every part of your body touching his in some way.

You rest your forehead against his and meet his gaze, tears spilling over and running down the sides of his face. You gently wipe them away but they keep coming. One of his hands goes in between your bodies pushing his cock back inside its home, your warm walls enveloping every inch, both of you gasping. Bucky can’t decide if he wants to keep going or stop, a twinge of pain biting its way up his cock, but you just feel too good. He can’t leave your pussy, needing to cum one last time. The slow grind of your hips never speeds up, gently fucking him, no, making love to him.

Bucky tries to kiss you but the pleasure you’re giving leaves him putty in your hands. The kiss is sloppy and wet, but one of the best kisses you’ve ever had, feeling the words neither of you can get out at the moment. The hairs at the base of his cock rub your clit, building up your final orgasm, Bucky not long behind, trying to hold out for you.

“You’re okay, baby. Want you to cum for me, not far behind.” Any restraint left in Bucky’s body disappears, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he cums for the last time.

“Fuckkk, baby, love you so much, please, I need you to cum for me. Need it so bad.” The slow roll of his tears before shifts to full on sobs, pleasure too much. You pull yourself off his cock, knowing that it’s now too much for him. “No, no, I need you to cum, please.” Your hand trails down your body, fingers rubbing your clit, the sight of you makes Bucky whine, and pull you down into a kiss, where you cum, moaning into his mouth. 

You roll the both of you over, placing Bucky’s head on your chest, lightly scratching his scalp, tracing shapes on his back with your other hand. When his tears subside, Bucky is the first to speak. “Thank you for taking care of me.” 

You feel a lump form in your throat. Of course you would always take care of him. There is nothing that you wouldn’t do for him. “I love you so much, Bucky. I could never hurt you, only want to give you the best in life. After all you’ve done for me, it’s the least I could do.” Bucky doesn’t say anything after that, not knowing what to say, not being used to such unbridled love. 

A few minutes pass before the amount of cum and sweat surrounding you gets uncomfortable. “Come on, baby, lets get cleaned up.” Bucky whines but complies anyway. “Get the shower started for me? I’ll change the bed.” He nods and heads to the shower. You work as fast as you can to get the sheets off and a fresh set on. Still naked you run to the washroom and throw the soiled sheets in the wash and start it before running back to the bathroom. 

Bucky is waiting outside of the shower for you, eyes still red from crying, almost shying away from you. Grabbing his hand you lead him into the hot water. “You did so good for me, Bucky. Made me feel incredible. You know, if that was your first time, I’m going to need help from the gods to handle you when you practice more.” That gets a small smile from him. “Don’t get all bashful on me, big man, after you rocked my world back there.”

“Stop it, baby.” His words hold no heat to them, secretly loving your complements. “You did too, rocked my world, you know? Didn’t know it could feel that good. There isn’t anyone else I would rather do that with.” He’s going to make you cry one of these days, saying all this sweet shit to you, and you know he means every single word of it.

“Yeah? How do you feel? Feel okay? I know that was a lot for you.” He dips his head down when you reach for his shampoo, letting you wash his hair, then grabbing the soap and lathering the wash cloth, running it along his body. At the feeling of your soft hands on his body, taking care of him after he gave himself over to you, Bucky can’t respond, too caught up in your love. “Bucky?” Your hands stop, fearing the worst at his silence.

“Feel so good, baby. I…” Bucky chokes up, tears resurfacing. He doesn’t know why he’s crying. You pull him to you, hugging him until he stops. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I just, you make me feel so safe, I can’t control myself, I just feel, you know?” You know because he makes you feel the same way.

“Yeah, I do, baby, I do.” 

“Can I wash you?” After you took care of him, Bucky wants to do the same for you, never wanting you to feel like he was using you. You nod and Bucky takes extra care to get all of his cum off of you, cleaning you up just like you did to him. By the time you’re done in the shower, the water’s cold. Bucky takes a towel and wraps you up first. Before he can reach for his, you take it and dry him off. 

“What do you want to do now? We can cuddle, get something to eat, watch a movie, whatever you want.” You know how important aftercare is, especially when Bucky was feeling so vulnerable after his first time. 

“Can we just cuddle?” He looks almost scared to ask you for such a simple gesture.

“Of course we can.” Taking your hand, Bucky leads you to the bed, foregoing clothes. You pull the blankets up and let him rest his head on your chest, listening to the beat of your heart and steady breathing. Not too long after you hear his light snoring and know he’s asleep, you following soon after in the arms of the love of your life, excited to experience all of Bucky’s firsts with him, seeing him grow, not only in experience, but also confidence.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 28

part 1 | part 27 | bonus stobin scene | ao3

cw: anxiety attack, graphic thoughts of death

Chapter 7

Steve's mom leaves the week before Thanksgiving.

No preamble, no notice, no "so long and thanks for paying rent," just— poof. Gone. Ta-ta, kiddo. Have a great life!

(Or don't!

Who cares?

Not me, that's for sure!)

The worst part is Steve finds out from Ernie of all people. Ma couldn’t even tell him to his face that she’s abandoning him to the gaping maw of this hellish town because she’s a good-for-nothing coward. Some day this place is gonna swallow him whole, splinter the bones and cough up the pellet, and Florence Harrington will be somewhere far, far away, sighing empty condolences over a fresh glass of red. “Just dreadful, isn’t it? Such a pity; what a shame.”

Steve’s hanging towels on the clothes line the day after the party — after the ride to drop off Max and the hangover brunch with Robin; after drowning his headache in Tylenol and finally getting home, only to realize that he can’t shower yet because all the towels are soaking wet — when Ernie looks up from his yardwork and casually ruins his goddamn life.

“You're wastin' your time with that,” he says, propping his weight against a rake and squinting at Steve in the mid-afternoon sun.

“What?” Steve frowns; hangs another towel. It's not like they're going to dry themselves. "Why?"

"Too cold."

"It's not supposed to rain, though, is it?"

"No, but the humidity—"

Screw the humidity. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

Ernie shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

He turns his attention back to his yard, dragging the rake over a smattering of damp leaves; obsessed with keeping his little patch of lawn pristine; and Steve reaches into the hamper and sincerely hopes that Ernie’s wrong. He needs a shower, and if the towels don't dry fast enough they get that gross mildew smell to them, and then it gets in Steve's hair, and how is he supposed to flirt with Eddie if he smells like musty lake water?

"Where's your mom off to, anyway?" Ernie asks after a moment. "Saw her leave this morning with two big suitcases,” he explains when Steve throws him a questioning look. “Figured she was off somewhere nice.”

Steve blanches.

Two big suitcases?

He didn’t even notice that she wasn’t here. Feels like a stupid, selfish asshole now, because he’d called ‘ma, I’m home!’ when he got in earlier and had thought nothing of her complete lack of response, the peaceful silence of the house; had welcomed it at the time, even, and what if—

Oh, god, what if she’d died?

What if she’d been lying there dead in her room, and Steve didn’t bother to check because he was too busy thinking about himself and how nice it was not to hear reruns on the TV for once? How long would she have lain there, rotting and bloated, and— and how long would his dad have, if the gunshot hadn’t rung out? How long; how long? Bleeding out on the carpet gurgling fish sounds everything red and Steve can’t breathe—

“Did she—?” he pants. Brings a hand to his throat; tries again. “Did you- see who she left with?”

“Some woman. Relative of yours, maybe? I didn’t get a good look at her. Had a real fancy car, though. Mercedes, think it was.”

Steve chokes on his own spit. Feels his throat close up, his heart pound and his ears ring and the yellow-purple-black start creeping in like vines at the edge of his vision, like demogorgon claws; like death’s shark-toothed grin. Hungry, howling, happy as it takes a bite out of him.

“You alright?” Ernie asks.

Steve grinds his jaw so hard he feels something crack. "Excuse me," he grits out, stomping back into the house.

—

"Fuck!" Steve shouts to his empty house — to the sun-faded paneling, to the weird stain in the orange carpet. Fucking Cecelia; fucking hell.

He cleans the house in a rage, eyes hot with unshed tears, and there's a note on the breakfast table. Crisply folded on plain paper, prim cursive letters, almost comically estranged:

Steven,

Apologies for short notice. Gone to stay with Aunt Cece in Evanston. Call or visit if you like.

— Mom

P.S. Happy Thanksgiving

The words leave papercuts in his throat. Steve rips the note to tiny pieces, can hardly see for the tears swimming in his eyes, but he's not crying over this; he's not. He fucking refuses.

Somewhere along the way, the cleaning turns to blind destruction, demolition of the all the little scraps of life mom left behind: her creepy angel figurines, her vintage Pyrex dishes, an empty bottle of old perfume. Steve hurls them all against the living room wall, delights in the shimmering pile of broken glass at his bare feet. Wants to crawl over it on hands and knees. Wants to burn this place to the ground.

When the sun dips below the trees he goes back out to check the towels. The air is wet, bitterly cold; nips at his hands when the wind blows, and the towels hang heavy on the line, just as damp as before but now the slightest bit stiff with the first creep of frost.

"FUCK!" Steve roars, ripping a towel down off the line. Yanking each one down in turn, throwing them into the dirt, raging, "What! Is! The fucking! Point!"

His tears spill over then, hot and wet as he sinks to his knees with a wounded growl, and he chokes there in the dirt; the cold, wet mud, the patchy grass. Gravel digs into his shins, and sobs wrack his chest, capsize him like plunging waves, and he can't do anything but shake and cry where the whole neighborhood can see. Making a commotion; making a scene, as his mother would say, but his mother's not here. She fucking left. She left him here, and his dad did, too, and Steve is utterly, truly, hopelessly alone.

"Come on, son."

And there’s Wayne Munson, coaxing him up off the ground with a sure, strong grip. Steve makes animal sounds as Wayne lifts him under the arms — ruined hiccups, mangled wails. There's mud in his lungs. Ocean silt; sucking sludge.

His mother's gone.

"Easy now," Wayne shushes; hugs him hard against his side. "You're alright, kid. You're alright."

—

part 29

tag list under separate reblogs, comment if you’re over 21 and want to be added tomorrow

[chestersturniolo]

𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

fratboy!chris x fem!reader

part six

All parts linked here

Warnings; none

••••••••••••

The next two weeks slipped by in a blur. You couldn’t bring yourself to attend classes; every time you even thought about it, anxiety washed over you. It felt easier to hibernate, to avoid the world and everyone in it, especially Chris. y/f/n had been bringing papers and notes from your classes to you so you didn’t fall behind. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about how Chris had treated you. It was hard to reconcile the memory of the sweet, gentle guy you had spent that weekend with, laughing and talking late into the night, with the person he had become. It was as if he had completely transformed overnight.

The warmth of his smiles and the way he had looked at you made it difficult to understand how he could so easily dismiss you. The contrast between those moments of connection and the harsh words you’d overheard felt like whiplash.

You had been torturing yourself with what ifs.

what if i hadn’t gone upstairs with him?

what if i hadn’t ignored his reputation?

what if i didn’t lean in to kiss him? 

what if i didn’t let him take my virginity?

what if i wasn’t so fucking naive?

Overhearing Chris felt like a confirmation of all the doubts you ignored in your mind. It was just another meaningless night for him. But for you it was everything. 

~

One afternoon, you were hunched over a textbook, scribbling notes in a desperate attempt to catch up, when suddenly there was a pounding at your door. With a sigh, you dragged yourself up to answer it.

When you opened the door, there stood Chris, his eyes teary and bloodshot. Your heart raced at the sight of him, and your instinct was to slam the door shut right in his face. Just as you began to close it, he pressed his hand against the door, stopping it with a desperate urgency.

“Please, just let me talk” he pleaded, his voice shaky. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, and something in his demeanor made you hesitate.

“y/n I’m so sorry for how I treated you-” he continued, his words tumbling out. “-that night meant more to me than I ever expected. I started to feel things I don’t usually feel, and it scared me. I didn’t know how to handle it”

You stood there, unsure of how to feel as you stared back at him. 

Chris took a deep breath, his voice trembling as he continued. “I know I messed up. I was trying to play it cool in front of my friends, but I didn’t mean any of the things I said. I didn’t realize how much I liked being with you until after it was over-“

He ran a hand through his messy hair before stepping closer, his expression desperate. 

“I never wanted to hurt you, and I can’t stand the thought of you thinking I don’t care. You mean more to me than I let on, and I’m so fucking sorry” he rambles, voice cracking 

He paused, searching your eyes for any sign of understanding. 

“Please, forgive me?”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N; anddd that’s all (for now👀) , what possessed me to write that many parts and post them all at once i DO not know but it made sense to if im showing the request that gives away the story line ya know? had to be done✨ thankyou for readinggg loves!!!

- 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 ♡

tysm @monroesturnns for the request ilysm!!

MASTERLIST

taglist;

@sturnobsessedwh0re @nayveetbhh @phone4pills @demzzz @dripgodnay

@sturniooolos @monroesturnns @mattsbitchh @slutforsturnioloss @pvssychicken @tsturniolo4 

@brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @stvrlighht @witchofthehour @ilyttmatsa @asherrisrandom

[yanderestarangel]

So I just finished reading the newest Bi Han fic that you fed us with and now it got me thinking. If it’s fine with you, how well would he take care of (ftm) reader when he finds how that the reader is pregnant? And how well of a father Bi Han would be himself?

This is my first time asking for something like this. So if you don’t want to do it, then it’s completely fine!!

Have a nice day🦾

headcanons mk1 ┊father bi han x pregnant reader

TW ┊ftm reader, pregnancy, first time parents, fluff, soft Bi Han, cute headcanons, little smut, breedkink, breasts, pussy etc are mentioned to refer to the reader, lactation, sex during pregnancy, childbirth, gender neutral baby.

a/n: I see him as a father figure... Father of my children.

໒ Sorry to place your order just now, I'm a bit busy with other things, btw, I hope you like it <3

Bi Han was still a surprise for him to discover that you were pregnant with his baby. But it wasn't a negative surprise... In fact, deep down he always wanted that, even if you would only find out later.

It was a surprise for him, but not for you, after all, every time you had sex for a year it was without a condom and Bi Han always ended up inside — and with all his commitment to being grandmaster he totally forgot this crucial detail, it was obvious that One time or another, even with your care, some mistake was going to happen and after the last meeting between the two of you, you soon started to feel nauseous and even feel sick at the smell of your own boyfriend.

So with all the suspicions, you took a pregnancy test hidden from the cyromancer — and confirming all the clear signs of the last few days... the two lines confirmed that you would be a father. You obviously got tense, cried and despaired, having a mild panic attack in the bathroom of your shared house with him. You didn't know how to think or what to think, but you knew you couldn't hide it from him.

You sent a few messages and called him soon after, you didn't usually send so many messages while he was at work so he immediately got worried and returned your calls as quickly as he could. You cried on the other end of the line while Bi Han's deep voice showed concern and irritability, precisely because you made him nervous and didn't get straight to the point.

"Calm down, breathe, what happened my boy? I can't understand you with you sobbing like that."

The sentence was punctuated with a heavy sigh coming from him and he was practically getting ready to go home to see you, when you dropped the bomb that you were pregnant, with him, you were going to be parents. You expected shouting, swearing and a heated argument, but all you received was silence and then a calm sigh heard from you on the other end of the line.

"I'll be home in a few minutes, have a glass of water and calm down, let's talk about this ok? And no, I'm not mad at you."

That was all you heard before he hung up, his voice was so soft that it scared you, but instead of you becoming desperate you just did as he told you, trying to calm down a little. You heard his heavy footsteps arrive and soon Bi Han's tall shadow was seen by you, before any words you just felt his muscular arms squeeze you tightly in a tight and safe hug, a silent way of saying that he was with you. you and not against you... It was his non-verbal way of saying that he also wanted that.

"I was really surprised, I won't be a hypocrite and lie that I expected you to get pregnant with me now but... You are my boyfriend, the man I am sharing my precious time and moments of my intimate life with, details that only you and I know, I trust you my boy, and I want you to trust me, I'm more than happy to know that I'm going to be a father with you."

A barely visible smile could be seen on the killer's thin lips as he placed a kiss on the top of your head.

"Regardless of everything, I will accompany you my love, I will be with you and sincerely?"

He paused, getting out of the grip and making you look deep into his brown eyes.

"You're going to be a handsome man with a round belly running around the house and carrying my children."

The dreaded Sub zero, was... happy, almost as if the heat had returned to his body, his large, cold hand was now warmer as it found your belly with no sign of swelling, for now. Soon after that, you felt the tears come, as the two of you hugged each other tightly and felt the fear and uncertainty be replaced by a warm feeling of welcome and a prosperous future. You knew that even if he was a cold man, for you, he could change into his best version to see you smile.

When your belly started to take shape, even if small, Bi Han became even more protective than he was. You weren't even lifting a finger to do anything at your house — he woke up earlier, cleaned the house, the dishes and left lunch ready for you while he prepared his lunch to take to the Lin Kuei or some money to eat at a restaurant next.

But that didn't mean he was going to leave you aside, on the contrary, his lunch hours were extended so he could stop by your house and check if you were okay or needed anything - his cell phone, which was previously on silent mode ; now all the notifications were turned on and the volumes were high enough so that he would already be aware of any signal from you. He would fill you with messages and would constantly send some Lin Kuei recruit to deliver a basket of fruit and sweets to you and he would always check if you ate everything.

"I want to see you well fed, you're going to be a father, you're pregnant with the future heir of the Lin Kuei in your belly so you better eat well, do you hear me, baby boy?"

Bi Han would be serious and placing a hot and appetizing plate of food for you as soon as he returned from the clan, he would make sure to feed you every day and make sure you didn't skip any meals.

He became more attached to you too, making a point of accompanying you to every medical appointment you needed to go to and at the baby's first ultrasound he couldn't hold back the tears that insisted on coming down, he didn't really care about the baby's sex as long as the child would be healthy and well and that you too would be well in the process.

He felt like he was in a sweet dream, seeing you looking beautiful walking around the house with a growing baby bump — you had become needier and he didn't deny that he loved it. Seeing you all touchy holding his biceps while he held you from behind and felt your belly, watching your breasts fill with milk and smiling mischievously.

"My boy is all affectionate, isn't he? You're more beautiful this way, you know? Round, with those beautiful breasts that are even more swollen... I can massage them if they're too heavy."

The ninja teased you by seeing the pout you made while he smiled and touched your breasts, his cold hands helped with the constant pain you were suffering from the formation of milk in your mammary glands. And soon after, this ends in sex, more affectionate and careful sex, since at that point your belly was already big and heavy enough and he didn't particularly want to hurt your baby. So Bi Han would always go from behind and slowly insert his dick into your pussy, holding your belly and making you use his body as a safety bar, not wanting to let you fall or get hurt. Soft strokes were given by him inside your wet hole while hoarse grunts could be heard coming from your boyfriend, his balls beat rhythmically at the entrance to your cunt while he placed kisses across your shoulders.

"You're such a beautiful man... Fuck-- do you know how hard it makes me? Knowing that you're going to be mine forever--? That we're going to have a family together? Do you know how much I love you?"

He obviously loved your body, especially the extra weight you gained during pregnancy, it was soft, sweet and he wanted to sink into your flesh.

"I can't believe my boy is so excited... Even pregnant."

He moaned as he squeezed your breasts lightly and made some milk come out of the nipples, licking his fingers and tasting the sweet taste. After a few thrusts he would pull out of your pussy and finish outside, cumming in his own hand so as not to dirty your insides and make it difficult for you to clean yourself.

"I promise I will breed your little pussy as soon as our child is born... I will get you pregnant again later, I promise."

The birth was something different and difficult, a storm of emotions ran through his mind when he saw his water break and the clear liquid coming down your legs — luckily he was late that day and managed to be home when you needed him. He saw the pain and despair in your eyes and didn't even imagine how much it must hurt.

"Calm down, calm down ok? Take a deep breath, shh... Yes exactly like that, good boy, let's go to the hospital. I'm with you on this ok? Look at me."

Bi Han would calm you down as he picked up your bag with the necessary things and put you in his car, driving impatiently and taking you to the nearest hospital.

The hours passed slowly as he practically made a hole in the marble floor beneath his feet, with his arms behind him, he heard your screams in the room and tried not to do anything crazy. He even felt his ice powers go out of control, but he took a deep breath and calmed down, thinking that in a few hours he could have you in his arms again... When the doctor came to inform him of the birth of his child he practically left running to see you in the living room, with the little baby already cradled in your arms, you were tired, sweaty and pale... But he swore to everything that he had never seen a more beautiful man in his entire life. Tears came out of his eyes again and he finally cried as he held on for fear of breaking the little baby you two had made.

"They looks like me..."

Bi Han said, trying not to let his most vulnerable side show but it was in vain, as he leaned over to kiss you on the forehead.

"You got it my prince, you gave me the most precious thing in my life, you are such a strong father..."

He said with a silly smile and saw the nurse take the baby from his arms to place it back in yours, to the little child to feed. The cyromancer observed everything and mentally promised to be the opposite of his father, to be a good father and really take care of you and his child, not to make the same mistakes in his upbringing that he had. And he kept that promise. You didn't need to wake up every time the baby cried, Bi Han did it for you and only in cases where you needed to feed the child did he wake you up, watching the baby sleep again in your arms while kissing you on the temple, apologizing for having disturbed your sleep — he also took a month's vacation from the Lin Kuei to spend the whole day looking after your child, you could see the dark circles under his eyes getting bigger but he didn't feel obliged to rest for more hours, the feeling of being a father was incredible for him, and he has never been happier in his life.

"I'm fine my pretty boy, our little snowflake fell asleep again and I don't want to wake them up..."

The grand master smiled tiredly as you saw the baby sleeping on his chest and he just let you, closing his eyes rhythmically but returning to waking up at every sign of the baby moving. Overall, 10/10, he's really pleased to have gotten his boyfriend pregnant and have a family to call his.

[tarrynightss]

Hate sex with Jake sully?

Yes please ;)))

pairing: Jake Sully x fem!na’vi!reader

cw: smut, rough sex, hair pulling, biting, p in v, really it gets so rough they’re literally fighting, some mentions of blood, bit of a breeding kink, use of the word bitch in a derogatory sense, choking

tag: @nin3kyuu

Teaching Jake Sully the way of the People was aggravating. He’s thick headed, cocky, and it feels as if he listens to you only half of the time. He’ll mumble under his breath when you scold him, saying words that he knows you won’t understand, but the snide tone makes it clear that he’s cursing. If your Tsahík had not decided to tie you to the sky demon, then you would’ve happily let him stumble through the forest by himself. Maybe Eywa would’ve let him die after all after seeing his foolishness. 

Jake’s feet stomp into the mossy forest floor as he runs, his arms swinging beside him. He’s not doing as you taught him. He’s running like a sky person, uncontrolled and unseeing, without a care of what sound he makes or the tracks he leaves behind. 

“Ftang nga!” Stop that! You hiss but he ignores you, his brow creasing as he focuses on going as fast as he can. “Oìss!”

You ponder for a moment if you parents would truly be mad if you let the sky demon run himself to his death, the steep cliff ahead so far unnoticed by him. A snarl leaves you, knowing that you cannot let it happen. You had to follow Eywa’s will even if you didn’t like it. 

“Stop!” you shout again, this time jumping onto Jake. 

It makes him fall and the two of you roll over the ground, grimacing as you feel a rock tear the skin on your arm. It’s not long before you come to a sudden stop. 

Jake has ended up on top of you and once the shock wears off he stares at you in anger. “Why the fuck did you do that?!”

“You don’t see!” you hiss in his face. 

He returns the gesture, his face inching closer to yours. He thinks he can intimidate you? He’s nothing more than a dreamwalker, a being using the flesh of your people. With a sharp thrust of your knee into his stomach you force him off of you, Jake gasping for air as you jump up. 

“Look!” you shout angrily and point towards where the forest floor ends. The sky is filled with mist, making it hard to see the giant drop ahead. 

His face is filled with irritation as he scrambles up, one hand holding his sore stomach. When he walks closer to the edge, he finally sees it. If he would’ve kept running for about two minutes more he would’ve gone flying. 

“Shit.”

You prowl back over to him, hard gaze taking in his barely scratched up form. “Yes, shit.” 

It’s not fair that you are the one bleeding because of his foolishness. You sit down on a nearby tree trunk to inspect your wound, your ears pinned back in anger. It’s shallow, the rock barely having pierced your skin. With a bit of salve from the Tsahík there will be no mark left. 

“I’m sorry, okay,” Jake says, slowly creeping closer. 

The look on his face is apologetic, yet you feel it is not completely sincere. 

“Sorry?” Your big eyes narrow at him. “You run around like a child!” 

His lips press into a thin line as he squats down, rubbing a hand over his hair. It is clear he wants to say something, but is reluctant to do so. You were injured because of him, but still you could be a real bitch. 

“You could’ve just told me,” he says finally, almost under his breath. 

Told him?! He had been training with you for almost two months now. 

You hiss again. “Do you think someone holds our hand while we hunt? You need to learn to-“

“See!” Jake snaps before you can finish your sentence. “Yeah, I know, you say it all of the fucking time.”

You inhale deeply. Never had you met such an infuriating man before. His jaw tenses as he watches you, tail swishing across the ground behind him. And confident, oh so confident. It is as Mo’at said; you cannot teach someone who’s cup is already full. 

“You are impossible,” you say as you throw your hands up. “Will never learn.”

He turns his head away from you with an annoyed sound, choosing to rather stare off into the forest than look at you. 

“Nì'ul kame tskxe,” A rock sees more. You hiss quietly. 

His ears perk up and even more irritation flashes over his face at not knowing what you are saying. “Yeah? Well maybe they should assign me someone else. Someone who isn’t a bitch.”

Bitch. He had used that word before, but you do not know what it means. The last time he had said it was when you had slapped his head when attempting to teach him your language, groaning it between gritted teeth. 

“What is bee-aaich?” you attempt. You know he is insulting you, but you want to know exactly how. 

A smirk pulls at his lips as he glances your way. Oh, he really shouldn’t tell you. It’s clear from your tense body and pinned ears that not much will be needed to further fuel your anger. He should keep it to himself like he had done before, but today he’s feeling particularly petty. 

“It’s what humans call female dogs, a type of animal we have. Sort of like those Viperwolf things,” he explains but you frown. 

“A nantang?” 

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, sure.”

You shake your head and lean back on your tree trunk. “I don’t understand. Is it not insult?”

Jake has another chance to wiggle out of it, but will he be wise enough to take it? He looks at you, your head cocked to the side as you await his answer. 

He chuckles to himself. “It’s… hard to explain. Do you know when a creature goes into heat and it’s just yapping, growling and scooting all over the place? It’s acting like a bitch.”

Your cheeks flare up and you shake your head more firmly this time, angry eyes piercing into him. Though you still do not completely understand it, his explanation gave you enough ground to be offended. You would never go into heat over a male like him, nor act like it. 

You jump up from your spot. “Heat? You are no man!”

“No, that’s not what I meant-“ he starts but stops as he sees how you are staring down at him. 

You seem to mean your words, looking at him with a mixture of disgust and anger. 

He stands up, ever so slightly towering over you as he approaches. You don’t budge, standing your ground till his chest is almost pressing against yours.

“No man, huh?” he questions. 

You bare your teeth at him. “No man. Your mind and body are weak. No woman would have you.”

Jake had swallowed a lot of shit from you in the last few months. Pretty much every day you scolded him, slapped him, clearly thinking of him as less than. He could see your hate for him in your eyes, and the fiery feeling started growing within him as well. This was the last match to send that fire roaring, the last kick to his manhood that he could take. 

His nostrils flare as he studies your face. “Is that right?”

The small twitch at the corner of your lip does not go unnoticed by him, a borderline smug look forming on your face. 

“Yes.”

The sky demon closes his eyes for just a second as he exhales deeply. Before you can say another word he has grabbed you by your beaded top, making you gasp out in shock. 

“How about I show you?” 

Your heart pounds in your ears at his words and you attempt to get his hand away from you. It won’t budge, and as he hauls you even closer you can hear some of the threading of your top ripping. 

“You will break it!” you hiss. 

He only grabs it tighter, beads popping out between his fingers and falling to the ground. His gaze travels from your face to your chest, clearly able to see your nipples poke through your top. “Who cares? I don’t get why you even wear it in the first place. Everybody can see your tits anyway.”

You spit in his face and he flinches, his grip on you slightly wavering. It’s enough to allow you to pull yourself loose, your top tearing to pieces in the process. If there’s one thing Jake hadn’t expected you to do, it was spit on him, and he wipes his face off with his hand. The growl he lets out makes your resolve waver, his fury so clear. 

As soon as you decide to run, he’s on you, pulling you back by the braid that encases your queque. You cry out in pain as you scramble to scratch his hands away, but soon he has pulled you back into his body.

“Good kitty,” he mocks as he holds you against his chest, his own heart beating fast and hard. 

One hand holds you by the braid as the other grabs onto your hip, forcing your ass back against his crotch. A mewl leaves your lips as he grinds into you, your body instantly responding despite your protesting mind. It senses Jake’s potential as a mate, the natural instinct to reproduce overruling all. 

“Like I said, a bitch,” he chuckles into your ear. 

The evidence of his growing arousal presses against your ass every time he bucks into you. He may not like you, but fuck did you always look hot in those tiny tops and loincloths the Na’vi wear. It left little up to the imagination, and he had spent many moments alone stroking his cock at the memory of it. 

Confident that you’ll continue grinding on him, he moves his hand from your hip to fondle your breasts. He squeezes the soft flesh harshly in his hands, rolling your hard nipples between his fingers. 

You try to find your own anger again, growling in between the rapid pants that leave your lips. It seems that Jake wants to fuck you like a Na’vi, his hand so tightly wrapped around your braid. The ache between your legs urges you to fulfill his request, but you won’t make it easy on him. He’ll be getting the full experience. 

Suddenly, you force your head down and to the side, biting into his wrist. He curses out in pain as your teeth lock around him, tears rolling down your own cheeks from your queque harshly being pulled at. 

“Fuck! Shit!” he lets go of your braid to force your jaw open. You are locked onto him like a fucking pitbull, his fingers prying at your cheeks. 

When you finally let go he stumbles back, staring at you in disbelief. The faintest hint of blood stains your lips and you carelessly wipe it off, a self satisfied grin forming on your face. You didn’t draw a lot of blood really, just enough to scare him. 

Taking advantage of his shock, you jump onto Jake and tackle him to the ground. He grunts in pain as you straddle him and lick a long stripe from his collarbone up to his chin. He tastes like desire, fury and fear, the mixture so potent that it makes you groan low in your throat. 

He does not know how to react, watching you as your face pulls back from his neck. Your pupils are dilated with desire, your tail stroking almost teasingly past his legs. The fighting had clearly gotten you going. 

It’s only when you move lower down his body, fingers fumbling with his loincloth, that he springs to action.

“Oh no, you are not getting near that,” Jake says and pushes your head further away from his crotch. 

You hiss, baring your teeth at him as you push back against his hand in protest. 

The sight makes him grimace. “Yeah, exactly for that reason. Need a fucking muzzle for you, shit.”

You are displeased by his response. Never had you noticed how good he smelled before today. Maybe it was because of your sudden desire, but you wanted to seek out the source, and he was not allowing you. 

You open your mouth, fully intending to chomp down on his thigh in revenge, but he grabs onto your braid and yanks you back before you get the chance. 

Jake pulls you upwards by your hair, making it so that you are straddling his clothed cock again. You growl your protests but after all that biting he isn’t listening. His hand comes down hard across your cheek, making that side of your face tingle and your mouth close up. 

“Shut up,” he hisses at you, shaking you by your hair. 

A wave of arousal washes over your body at his rough treatment. This is how many of you mated, fighting for dominance till the woman was stuffed full of seed. You had not expected Jake to have it in him, but perhaps you had been wrong.

He sits up slightly to bring his mouth to your breasts, sucking and biting at your hardened nipples. You allow him to do so for a bit, moaning at his touch. A yelp leaves you when he bites down harder on one of your nipples. His amber eyes shoot up to look at you, taking in your pleasured face as his tongue flicks out to lick at the now sore bud. You looked so beautiful like this. 

“Is that all you have, Jake Sooly?” 

But god does he wish you would shut up. 

Jake turns his attention to his next target, this time biting your nipple harder till you start squirming and trying to push him away. Your chest rises and falls rapidly against his face as he laps at your breast afterwards, admiring the slight shades of purple that your nipples have blossomed into. 

Your hand finds his braid and you tug at it, making him groan lowly against your flesh. He feels how sensitive it is now, any pulling quickly turning painful, and so he does it to you some more. You hiss at him like an angry cat as he continues his assault on your nipples, biting and sucking till you cry out in protest. 

Your core throbs as he pulls away from your chest. His eyes are glazed over with lust and a smug smile adorns his face. But once again, he’s getting too cocky, wrongly assuming that you’ll just sit prettily while he basks in the moment. 

“Repxìsu does it better,” you purr meanly, snapping your teeth at Jake’s arm and making him let go in reflex. You roll yourself off of him and turn your back to him, wishing for it to appear as if you got bored. 

Repxìsu? Jake grits his teeth. That lean shit that always hangs around you at the village. Yeah, Jake remembers him. 

In a flash, Jake is on you, pressing down on your back till you are on hands and knees for him. Content with his reaction, you turn your head to look back, but are shocked to find him moving in on your shoulder. He bites down on it harshly, unable to control his own strength yet. You cry out in pain underneath him but don’t move. It feels so good. You can feel your wetness start to drip down your thighs as he holds you down, his large body staying put on top of you. 

His fangs finally leave your skin, thin smears of blood staining it. 

“Does that Repxí cunt do that to you, huh?” Jake questions and you shake your head wildly. 

His hand finds the base of your tail, grabbing onto it harshly as he starts tearing off both of your loincloths. You can hear the fabric ripping, Jake far too impatient to properly take them off. Your tail coils around his arm like a vice, your ass pressing into his now bare crotch eagerly. His thick cock slides past your cunt, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“What happened to ‘no female will want me’?” he asks, a smirk playing at his lips as his fingers seek out your dripping core. 

He prods at your entrance before quickly sliding two fingers into it, groaning at your wetness. 

You glance back at him with sharp eyes. “I do not want you,” you look him over with an unimpressed look. “I just want your cock.”

His smirk drops and he curls his fingers up into your cunt, stroking your insides at a hard pace. Unbelievable. He is convinced that no matter what he does you’ll always disapprove of it. He could be taking a shit and you would still tell him he’s doing it wrong. 

You cooed underneath him, eager to take more of his fingers inside of you as if you had not just insulted him. Why did he even want your approval? You are insufferable, your only redeeming quality being your body. 

“Fuck,” Jake curses angrily as he spreads his fingers, the slick walls of your cunt easily giving way. “Why am I even preparing you? Slut like you don't need it.”

After a few more harsh strokes from his fingers, he pulls them out of you and presses your body further down into the grass. He leans in over you, licking past the shell of your ear as he tugs on your tail. 

“Tell me you want me to breed you.” A confident high fills him at the thought of you saying those words. 

You scoff at him, tongue flicking past your bottom lip as you glance back at him. Your cunt clenches around nothing in a silent yes, but you’d never admit that. “Is that what you need to hear to feel like a man, Sooly?”

He grinds his teeth together as a darker shade flushes over his cheeks in humiliation. With a growl, he wastes no more time and lines himself up with your slick entrance, instantly thrusting his full length into you when it gives way. Your nails dig into the grass beneath you as you cry out at the overwhelming feeling of being filled. Great mother, why was a being this stupid blessed with such an amazing cock? 

Jake’s body presses down on top of yours as he starts thrusting into you wildly, harsh slaps of skin against skin resounding throughout the forest. Never had he imagined that you would feel this good. Your wet cunt sucks him in so deliciously, spurring him on to take you harder. Finally you are no longer insulting him either, slutty moans falling from your lips as you let him fuck you as he pleases.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he purrs and bites down into your shoulder once again, his cock twitching inside you as he marks you. “Good little bitch.”

His fangs biting and scraping against your skin makes your eyes squeeze shut in pleasure. Everyone would see that you had let him take you, a thought that should fill you with disgust and shame but in the moment you did not care. He had won this.

Jake pulls you back on his cock by your tail at every thrust, enjoying the way you start to hiss in a mixture of pain and pleasure at his bruising grip. His pace is relentless, fucking into you like it’s his last day alive. 

“Fucking say it,” he groans as he feels his cock hitting against your cervix, your body writhing underneath him. “Say you want me to breed you.”

Your attempt at a scoff turns into a pathetic whine as the walls of your cunt clench around him. His strokes are hitting so deep, so good. It feels like your brain is turning to mush. 

“Say it!” Jake commands and frees his hand from your tail only to bring it down onto your ass in a hard slap. 

You scream out underneath him, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. To let him do it is one thing, but to say it out loud? You shake your head weakly. That would be too much to give to that cocky asshole. 

When another hard slap against your ass still doesn’t cause you to relent, he decides to try another approach. His hand snakes around to your front so he can grip onto your throat, feeling your breath hitch underneath his fingers when he squeezes down. 

Your cunt clamps down around his length as you gasp, your hands ripping out the grass underneath you. 

“Shit,” Jake groans as he feels his thrusts starting to falter, the feeling over your walls squeezing his cock becoming too much. 

He hisses into your ear as he chokes you, making you whimper in a pathetic display of submission. “Say it.”

The tears that had gathered in your eyes fall down as it becomes harder to breathe. It causes an odd sensation inside of you, and you let out a silent scream as your body rushes towards your orgasm. 

“Breed me!” you choke out. “Do it you vonvä!”

A sick satisfaction washes over Jake at your words. God, he knows you would just fucking hate it if he actually knocked you up. You would be horrified to carry his child, and though he wouldn’t exactly be thrilled either, in the moment having your full submission gives him the last push over the edge. 

His hand around your throat squeezes tighter as he fucks into you a few more times, groaning when his release shoots into you. You desperately try to thrust yourself back against him as he cums, wanting to find your own peek as well. 

He watches with a smirk as you try so hard, lewd squelching sounds coming from your used pussy as his cum seeps out past his cock. It’s pathetic, and he releases your throat to instead flick his impatient fingers over your clit. 

You cry out as Jake gives you the last push you needed, the walls of your cunt fluttering around him as you cum. A breathless chuckle leaves him as he feels the way you suck in not only him, but also his spend. At this rate you really might get yourself knocked up, but it seems you do not care. 

A rare silence falls as both of you pant, neither moving to pull away from each other. You let your tired arms give in and fall into the grass. Wiya, you hate to admit it but that was the best fuck you’ve had in a long time, your pussy still throbbing. 

Perhaps you had finally found something Jake Sully was good at. 

[wannaeatramyeon]

Goo Kim x Reader: Dating (feat. Gun)

G/N. Requested. Fluff

"Who is this mysterious sexy man?" Goo chuckles, "It's ME!"

He thrusts the trashy tabloid in Gun's face. That ridiculous headline and Goo's mug plastered on the front page, arm around one of the most sought after K-Pop idols.

Mysterious? Sexy?

Gun peers at the photo and thinks that Goo looks like how he always does.

An idiot.

Lips stretched into an open mouthed grin. Eyes crinkled. Hideously garish suit. Stupid bleached hair.

Some of his meagre charm must be doing something though, because the idol's smile reflects his. A touch more sane, a lot more sincere, and very much besotted if the way they're looking at the blonde is anything to go by.

"They're boring though," Goo leans back, studies the idol's face that he is casually bedding and dismisses them.

One word, cutting and cruel: "Next."

.

.

"Either answer it, or turn it off."

"Nope!"

Gun glares at him. The phone continues to vibrate, buzzing noisily on the table.

It stops.

For now-

One..

Two...

Three...

And like clockwork-

It starts ringing again.

Just like it has done for the last ten minutes.

Fuck this. Gun grabs the device and hurls it onto the floor. It smashes with excessive force, a complete overkill, into the marble tiles.

The screen cracks, flashes, then dies.

"You're doing me a favour," Goo taps his long fingers against the table, unconcerned and disinterested, peering out the window, "They were getting clingy."

They being the supermodel that walked the Paris runway last week. Graced the front cover of the September Issue the week before.

It didn't matter.

His interest putters out like it always does. Goo is done with them.

.

.

"Ewwwww, tasteless!"

Gun catches a glimpse of a suit nestled in a gift box, logos of one of the most expensive and exclusive fashion houses adorn the tissue paper.

"Throw it away! Trash it!" Goo instructs and the HNH assistant scurries away.

"Ugh," The blonde pulls a face, as if the lingering presence of the ugly garment is still offending his delicate sensibilities.

Grabs his phone (new and top of the line) out of his pocket and makes a show of blocking someone.

He throws his arm around Gun's shoulder.

"You'd think a chaebol heir-" Stressing chaebol and heir with a smug waggle of the eyebrows, "-would have better taste. I can't be with someone with such awful style!"

Gun pushes him away, "I don't care. Shut up."

.

.

Goo has a new obsession.

Used to let his phone ring out. Used to ghost people for days, weeks, months, before reaching out again. (If he does reach out, that is.) Relish in playing mind games and gaslighting.

Now he picks up after the second ring. Murmurs, voice cooing and sickly sweet, into his phone.

Excuses himself "I have to take this," and walks out of meetings with Charles Choi and the HNH board.

Is unavailable on weekends and evenings. Snaps "I'm busy," when Gun offers the moneymaker a chance to make more money.

Then the new obsession turns into an ongoing obsession.

.

.

Your name flashes on Goo's phone screen.

Your name is one that Gun has, against his will, grown familiar with.

He has heard more than his fair share of your interests and hobbies. How great you are, how talented, how wonderful. The way your hair gleams in the light, how your eyes sparkle when you laugh. How you always beat Goo in games, "Y/N must be cheating!" he would screech.

And, according to Goo, has the most deliciously mean sense of humour. "You could never be as funny as Y/N." Goo sneers, as if it was a competition. As if Gun ever wanted to be seen as funny. Or to make Goo fucking Kim laugh.

Gun couldn't give a shit. Gun couldn't care less. But since when did Goo care what Gun thinks.

So Goo rambles, voice rushed and excited, telling him everything about you even when Gun tells him to shut the fuck up and tries to uppercut him on the jaw.

.

.

"You're getting too attached." Gun tells him one day. Not that Gun cares, but Goo Kim happy is insufferable.

He expects a glare, an insult. Eyes narrowed behind glasses and venom.

Goo's response surprises him. Gun never expected this.

A shrug and a lopsided smile. Goo is resigned to his fate. "Yeah," he agrees.

He knows he is too attached to you, and he has no intention of ever changing that.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

I've been waiting for your requests to open back up! Hopefully I've made it in time lmao. I've been dying to request something with Mitusya.

I've always imagined Mitusya being a romantic person and I can totally see him setting up a date or a surprise for the reader after not seeing each other for a while because of their work schedules not lining up correctly, due to the holidays making him busier than normal. Like him making the readers favorite dinner and just taking care of them before they end up making love in front of the fire place.

Hopefully that fits the winter theme well enough, if not I do apologize

Pairings: Mitsuya x male reader

Warnings: Male!reader, soft dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Mitsuya, soft sex, blowjob, riding

“–and then the manager went ballistic on like three people today...it was stressful just to overhear...”

“Wow. That's crazy. I'm sorry you had to deal with all of that, sweetheart.” Mitsuya's voice came through your phone speaker, sounding sincere as always while you ranted about work on your walk home.

“Thanks, babe. It's so stupid– the holiday shifts, I mean. I can't wait to get home and forget about it all.” You laughed, digging through your bag for your keys. A sigh escaped as you lamented, “I just wish you were here with me too...I hate that neither of us have time off during holidays...”

“Mm. Me too.” Your partner hummed in agreement. As much as you loved hearing his voice almost every night, it wasn't enough. Winter was the busiest season for both of you, and there was never any time to visit each other during. It had been nearly a whole month since you had a physical date! A month! Eating takeout together on a video call was fun, but you missed in-person dates dearly...

The keys clinked against each other as you fumbled with pushing your house key into the lock, turning the doorknob and entering your toasty home a second later. “I really miss you, Taka...” the sadness layered under your breath was not lost to Mitsuya, nor was it lost to yourself, cursing yourself mentally for sounding so depressed.

His soft, reassuring voice came through again, “I miss you too. I'm sure we'll get to see each other real soon, y/n. I guarantee that.” The love weaved into his words brought a small smile to your lips, already daydreaming about your next date. But... something quickly caught your attention. When Mitsuya spoke, it sounded as though his voice also came from your kitchen? Like some sort of echo effect.

“Taka? Can you say that again?” You asked, a bit concerned and confused.

“Uh, sure– I guarantee that, y/n.”

In complete disbelief, your eyes widened and you ran straight towards your kitchen, rounding the corner and just barely preventing yourself from slamming into the wall. Standing next to the counter was none other than–

“TAKAAAA!!” You exclaimed, running directly into your partner's arms, nearly dropping your phone and knocking Mitsuya over at the same time.

Laughter filled the room, along with your happy sobbing, while you bear hugged your poor lover to death. “M-missed you too, y/n. Haha...ah, your hands are freezing...”

“Sorry–!!” you immediately removed your bare hands from his skin, trying to warm them up a bit by rubbing them together. “I just can't– How?! When?!”

“I asked to go home early today. Thought I might surprise you,” Mitsuya explained while cupping your face, warming up your cheeks in the process, “consider this an early Christmas present.”

“I love you so fucking much, Taka...” You whispered before catching your partner by surprise with a hungry kiss.

-

No longer sulking from the awful stress of work, the two of you sat down and had a lovely dinner; Mitsuya had prepared your favorite meal and set up the dining table with a few candles and a nice bottle of wine to share.

Afterwards, while he was taking care of the dishes, you walk up behind him...

-

“You're too sweet...I can help with these, you know?” your arms wrapped around Mitsuya's waist. He can be such a housewife most of the time, but it was very appreciated.

“Nope. I told you, I'll take care of everything. Food, dishes, putting the leftovers away. You, my darling, can just relax.” His words were enough to make you cry sometimes. What did you do to deserve someone this thoughtful and kind?

A chuckle left him as you nuzzled into his neck, breath tickling his skin slightly. “-love you...you're too good to me...” For a split second, it seemed as though you were going to cry. Tears welled up in the inner corners of your eyes, and a familiar heat rose underneath the skin of your face, but you choked it down quickly. Instead kissing Mitsuya's neck, exposed by his open collar.

“Whoa- Take it easy, babe.” Mitsuya laughed, bracing himself against the counter when you pressed forward, kissing lower, kissing harder, “We, aah... We have all night for that–” He trailed off, succumbing to his growing desire. Ah fuck it

Neck kisses turned into shoulder kisses, turned into unbuttoning Mitsuya's shirt, turned into stumbling over towards the couch, turned into sloppy kissing while your shirt was discarded, turned into grinding against each other, turned into stripping down to nothing, turned into Mitsuya flipping you so that you were on your back now–

“I did all this to you, huh?” He teased, with eyes fixed on your leaking cock. Your lover's lips were on your dick within seconds; kissing the base and working up to the head. Shiny precum smeared on his lips as he worshipped your cock, finally taking it into his warm mouth, humming with just the tip in his mouth.

Your only light source was the glow of embers from the fireplace, lovingly lit by your partner before you came home so that the house would be warm and cozy. The flickering orange lighting suited Mitsuya wonderfully. Casting just enough light onto his face so that you can make out his features, yet still dark enough to reflect in his eyes — causing his gaze to appear more piercing. Your partner kept eye contact with you as he bobbed his head up and down, hollowing his cheeks. The feeling had you throwing your head back against the couch cushion, so close to an orgasm already, thanks to Mitsuya's skills.

Before you could cum though, Mitsuya popped off of your cock and sat up, lining his hole — that he had casually been fingering while he sucked your dick — up with it. Steadying himself against your chest, he slowly eased himself lower and lower; you had to bite your lip to prevent a flurry of curses from coming out. The way your partner's insides molded to your shape — it was an indescribably pleasurable sensation.

“Takashi...f-feels good- Need you c-closer...” You moaned, pulling him down and into a passionate kiss. As Mitsuya ground his hips against yours the room seemed to spin. Between his groans of pleasure, the mumbled words in between kisses, and the feeling of his body pressed oh so close against yours–

Mitsuya tightened around you, his moans grew louder, and finally... “G-going to...ah! Cum...y/n- ” With your hasty encouragement, your lover came and white globs painted your stomachs — you'll clean up later though.

“Fuck I'm gonna–!! Hnngh—!! ” Moments after his, your own release followed, pumping a load of cum into Mitsuya's ass. After clenching for a few seconds your muscles finally went slack, followed by a deep sigh of content.

The two of you laid there for a while, tangled together and bathed in warmth. You remained like this for some time; together. With Mitsuya's head laying on top of your chest and your fingers brushing through his hair, lightly tickling his skin as you trailed along his back. You couldn't have asked for a better night than this

[biblio-smia]

“you can’t scare me like that, okay?” w mike schmidt <3? love ur work!

thank u!!! <333 | part of v’s 800 follower celebration!

when mike's call goes to voicemail, he doesn't mind. you're probably busy. maybe you didn't hear the ringing of your phone over the noise of something else.

when you don't call back, mike finds his mind start to wonder. did he do something wrong? do you not like him anymore?

when the clock hits six p.m., mike tries again. he hears the line ring for what seems like hours. this is unusual - the longest you've taken to pick up is three rings at most.

mike knows your schedule better than his. he knows you're sitting in your kitchen right now, thinking of what to put together for dinner. even if you left your phone somewhere, you would still hear the landline. so, mike tries again. one more time.

nothing.

now he worries about being overbearing. he hopes he's not annoying you, but he knows deeps down you're not the type to shy away from a conversation if you did happen to have an issue. it's unlike you.

this is unlike you.

mike is beginning to worry when it's ten p.m. and he still hasn't heard from you. he's found that he hasn't relaxed all afternoon, realized how important your presence (even if it's just the sound of your voice) is to his daily routine. mike feels a little ridiculous, depending on you so much, mind spinning between worried about coming off as clingy and simply worried about you.

he can't stand it by twelve, his heart thumping wildly and his imagination assuming the worst. he's gone through a million possible scenarios in his head, thousands of excuses. none of them fit quite right and mike is beginning to think back to a childhood memory that's haunted him for years.

he's off before he can really think about it, quiet enough not to wake abby but keeping a hasty pace. he's in his car, he's a little too much over the speed limit, he's in front of your door. mike is even more hesitant now that he's here. what if you were just avoiding him? was he making things worse?

mike decides it's worth the risk to knock. it's strong, but no other sounds in the quiet neighborhood follow. mike is about to give up after a few too many moments of silence when he finally hears footsteps.

mike perks up as the door opens and he finally sees you. mike doesn't care if you don't want anything to do with him; he hugs you immediately.

mike's sure you're confused, but you hug him back immediately. at least there's a good sign.

mike feels a little silly as he parts, looking at the clear confusion on your face.

"what's wrong?" you ask innocently, immediately erasing all of mike's worries.

"i thought..." mike shakes his head. "nothing."

"no, tell me," you insist, grabbing mike and dragging him inside. your home is dark; you obviously had gone straight to the door as soon as you'd heard it.

"i just thought... something might've happened." mike's voice shakes a little, his fears suddenly pressing on his chest. mike watches your eyes soften and he wills his emotions not to show so obviously on his face. "you can't scare me like that, okay?"

"i'm sorry," you say sincerely, taking mike's hands in yours. "i was just exhausted after work-"

mike shakes his head. "no, don't apologize for that. i was just kinda worried."

if mike is completely honest, he's a little embarrassed. he'd never thought he'd be the type to need so much reassurance. he didn't want to be clingy.

"i won't take naps like that again," you pull mike into another hug.

"oh, don't do that. just... call me whenever you wake up."

"what if i don't wake up until two in the morning?" you smile.

"then you call me at two in the morning." mike grins, kissing your cheek. "i should go."

"you can stay. it's the least i can do after neglecting you."

"okay," mike scoffs with a smile, shaking his head. "i wasn't totally helpless."

"no, you just missed me," you coo, letting mike cup your face in his hands.

he laughs before he leans in to place a soft kiss on your lips.

"yeah, i really did."

[matan4il]

Buddie 618 meta

Since this could have been the show finale, not just this season’s, I hope you allow me to do a small overview of the ep as a whole with this in mind.

I’m gonna be honest, I want to send ABC a bouquet of flowers, because if this would have been the show’s last ep, it would have been an incredibly disappointing one. Not that it didn’t have merit. 911 has always been about the importance of the good that we do - for ourselves, for our loved ones and for strangers. That’s why the significance of this ep’s emergency was actually great. We got to see the 118 saving themselves, each other and be saved by a complete stranger, who wouldn’t have been there if it weren’t for the 118 saving him four seasons earlier. My issue with it is that it would have been better IMO to spread out this emergency over two eps, really give it room to resonate emotionally, in much the same way that Buck’s lightning strike did. That would have also left more airtime for the team’s personal lives to get closure.

When looking at the personal resolution to the 118’s stories, I did like the return to Henren’s adoption via foster care storyline, it needed closure and I’m so happy this is the one it got. I have talked in more than one fandom about the importance of showing how same sex couples ACTUALLY go about becoming parents, so I think this is extra significant. I can’t wait to see this not just being a wink at the end of a show finale, but an actually developed storyline in s7. I also think “Here’s to more chaos and more love” is my fave line in this ep and a perfect summary of the best of 911. I also loved Bathena getting to go on their honeymoon, getting to live carefree for a moment. They absolutely deserve this, and it felt even better thanks to being a callback moment. I also enjoyed seeing Madney seal the details of their wedding. I have loved and enjoyed them since Maddie called Chim cute in 206, they deserve all the happiness and joy, and to me, having to see her twice this season bracing herself for the possibility of losing Buck and / or Chim (in 611 and now) made it even more meaningful to see Madney happy by the end of the ep. Again, I can’t wait to see the actual wedding in s7. It’s gonna melt all of our hearts. Still, all of these resolutions felt a bit rushed and I believe they could have had more of an impact if they were more than blink and you miss it moments during the final montage.

But if those felt underdeveloped, that’s nothing in comparison with Buck and Eddie’s personal lives’ resolutions. Was 911 really going to leave them with the “endgame” of women who literally only showed up as Love Interests in the last couple of eps of the show? If I weren’t a part of fandom, as a casual viewer, I would sincerely not have even remembered Marisol from her emergency, so I would have been confused by her and Eddie’s conversation. In fact, I found it funny that when Eddie wants to text her, it’s presented as a disruption to Bobby’s talk, just like Buck’s call with Kameron. I also thought it was wild that we discover Marisol and Eddie exchanged numbers, because that most certainly wasn’t even hinted at during 617. We clearly saw him walking away, they exchanged a last look, and that was it. Eddie and Marisol are so underdeveloped, we don’t even know how they happened! Did Marisol rush after Eddie? Did he come back to ask her for her number? Did they both decide to take the leap? How did the conversation go? Why was their phone call in 618 so awkward if they had already made their intentions clear when they exchanged numbers? We have zero answers to these questions. This was so forced, so unearned, so underdeveloped, it makes it painfully obvious that it was done just to not leave Eddie heterosexually single. Because I’m sorry, homosubtextually, he’s been married for years.

Which brings me to Buck and Natalia. I gotta roll my eyes at my own 615 meta, where I talked about the meaning of her name connecting her to birth, now we literally had her at the birth of Buck’s bio kid. What a piece of ironic foreshadowing. And yet, despite Natalia being a bit more developed than Marisol, despite the fact that Buck had what was maybe the most invested in personal resolution in the finale, it was still a let down for me. We have mostly seen why Natalia doesn’t suit him in eps 615 and 617. She did come back in the finale, but then so did Taylor in 414. That doesn’t mean either woman fits Buck as a partner. I’m left with the uneasy feeling that we have here a rerun of that s4 finale in terms of the ep shoving both men into relationships with underdeveloped LIs. TBH, the juxtaposition makes 618 worse IMO. Because the comparison with Marisol and Natalia actually makes Ana and Taylor look slightly more invested in! That says a lot about how little 911 cares about the 618 LIs. But it also gives me this bad sense of stepping in place with Buck and Eddie in terms of their romantic development. For example, the fact that Buck ends up tying yet another one of his couches to yet another gf at a way too early stage of their r/s (too much time couldn’t have passed between Kameron giving birth, ruining Buck’s couch, and his conversation about getting a couch together with Natalia since he was just getting around to having the old one looked at to see if it could be saved. He’s once again rushing into commitment with a girl he doesn’t yet know well enough, and who we saw in 615 he was idolizing as truly seeing him, when the truth was very different or she wouldn’t have run out on him in 617. I also can’t tell you why Natalia came back based on the few interactions we’ve seen between them, we haven’t had a single meaningful moment between them so far to explain it, making it clear he’s going in circles. I do suspect Buck doesn’t realize this is him repeating past mistakes, he thinks this is progress given his ability to let go of the baby, which could be an interesting angle to explore in s7. But probably what makes giving Buddie rushed heterosexual “endgame” LIs worse is that every bit of development either man made that isn’t about their love life got sidelined in this ep...

I think in a sense, the underdevelopment of all of Buck and Eddie’s LIs, even the “endgame” ones in what could have been the show’s finale, might actually be a testament to the power of Buddie. If a showrunner knows they could never hope to develop any LI to have with either Buck or Eddie even a tenth of what they have with each other, that can explain not even trying. In fact, we got a reminder of the strong bond between these two men during the call. Buck saved Eddie, just as Eddie saved Buck during the lightning strike. The way they looked at each other, the zoom in on their hands grasping one another, was very emotionally poignant exactly because we have seen these two losing their whole damn minds trying to save the other man on more than one occasion. And Buck used the words “I got you,” a reminder that they will ALWAYS have each other’s back, on and off the field. 

The good news is that ABC has a chance to correct the course of where this finale left off. I do believe the move is being done knowing they would have to rejuvenate 911 if they want it to fare better than on Fox, and I think that giving Buddie the room to become canon would be exactly that. But I have said in more than one of my ask replies that to me, no matter what, this show has been telling the epic love story of Buck and Eddie, with the little family they built. Whether TPTB go through with that canonically or not, this is what they gave us. And nothing will take that away from me. If 911 ends with Buddie being single, I’ll just assume their feelings realization and confessions happen after the end of the show. If 911 ends with “endgame” heterosexual LIs, I’ll just know that those couples eventually break up at some point during the 118’s post-show future, and then Buddie finally get together. Because that’s the story we got over the course of the last 5 seasons, one that only has a single possible resolution, whether the show itself gives it to us or whether it forces us to have to imagine and write it down in fix-it fics ourselves. We ALL know what we saw. We ALL get what Buddie have. We ALL see how that inevitably would lead to them getting together sooner or later, and if it doesn’t happen during the show, then later it is, but it WILL happen. That’s how I look at the show, and that’s why even if this were the last ep of it, it still wouldn’t have destroyed Buddie for me. I hope this POV can help others, too.

~~ I’m gonna be here during the hiatus, if anyone wants to be here with me. Thank you so much to all of you who made s6 a lovelier ride by taking it with me! I’m endlessly grateful for every single one of you. xoxox

~~ (my weekly meta posts) (my Buddie gifs) (all of my content)

~~ My tag list will follow in the reblog, please let me know if you wanna be added/removed here.

~~ Thank you to the amazing @whosoldherout​​ for making this season so much better with your gifs, for these meta posts and in general!

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Last Twilight: Ep 12

The TL;DR of this post is just... Sincerely what the fuck?

I remember posting after Episode 1 that I was keeping a suspicious eye on the mention of the eye donation because while I do think in real life disabled people have the right to manage their disability any way they want to and would support someone's choice to get a cornea transplant, real life is not fiction and fiction is designed to pull messages and themes from. Episode 12 from almost it's first moments completely undermines two and a half month's worth of messaging about learning to accept a new reality. I don't think it is foolish of me to assume based on the set up of the first episode that Last Twilight was supposed to be an exploration of grief as told in conversation and parallel between someone who lost a loved one and someone who lost their vision.

If this story had continued in the way it started out the first half of this show, I honestly think it could have been a 10, those first few episodes I was enjoying so much I was worried it might knock out Moonlight Chicken as my favorite Aof offering. Now I have rated Last Twilight as a 3, I will never suggest it to anyone and I will never rewatch it. Why?

Because from a fictional narrative perspective, having Day gain his vision back at the end undermines the entirety of the show's messaging from the first 11 episodes. Every single lesson, every single message just absolutely obliterated by every moment of Episode 12.

Day getting his vision back right as he and Mhok get back undermines the narrative in the following ways:

Rewarding Day for managing to create a successful and happy life as a blind person (literally like "hey you graduated and ran a bookstore while blind! Congrats you get to be normal again!)

"Rewarding" Mhok by insuring that he never has to do any caregiving for Day going forward so we don't get any navigating or expectation of Mhok and Day being in a longterm inter-abled relationship

We eliminate all chances that the subject of pitying Day re-enters any future fights, meaning there is now zero risk for Day maintaining a relationship with someone he worries might infantilize or pity him

It absolves Night of any remaining guilt he may be carrying from thinking he caused the accident that made Day blind

It absolves Day of any remaining anger at Night thinking he caused the accident that made Day blind

Mhon's ableist fucking ass gets her "normal" son back the way she confided in Mhok she'd hoped for after the first failed cornea transplant

It undermines the theme of the in universe Last Twilight novel and the conversation that Day and Mhok have about Mee being turned in to a statue on the top of the mountain and how that was hopeful because her father had found a sight so beautiful he couldn't think of anywhere else Mee would need to see and instead turns the message essentially in to: "there is hope, you can be cured"

It dismantles their cute couple thing of the one palm distance which also makes the OST that they played all the fucking time completely irrelevant

And most importantly, it undermines all the growth that Day went through while processing his grief and the two, TWO separate occasions where he came to terms with his disability

And that's just the disregard for the narrative messages, giving Day his eyesight back is incredibly ableist in the case of this story because of certain ableist through-lines woven in to the entire show. Namely:

While Day is blind, there is no reciprocity of care. Mhok is always taking care of Day, I cannot think of a single instance where Day really took care of Mhok in a significant way. By focusing so much on Day, and abandoning any strong focus on Mhok's grief over losing his sister, Day is never given an opportunity to be a support system for Mhok. Which is fucking ableist. Disabled people have so many things to offer the world, and while they might have specific support needs that does not mean that they can't offer support in return.

Mhok doesn't introduce Day to his family at their graves until after Day has his vision restored, and it is only then that Mhok says he has someone to take care of him. Able-ist!

Day gets his vision back almost immediately after a conversation with his mother where she says he wants to be normal and the fight he had with Mhok is normal.

Handling the entire story this way, with the break up, and a three year time gap, and then Day having his vision restored literally hours after he and Mhok get back together does not allow for any exploration of Mhok and Day having to figure out the differences between Mhok being his caretaker and Mhok being his partner.

We shunted literally every part of Mhok's backstory completely to the side, which in and of itself is fucking ableist in my opinion because it implies that able bodied people who are caretakers for or who are in a relationship with a disabled person don't have any time for themselves, to deal with their own shit or to have their own needs because they are too busy taking care of a disabled person.

With this being, what, the first main character in a BL with blindness, you want to go for the cure route after acceptance? Like you are rewarding someone for their bravery of handling their disability instead of allowing the disabled person to remain happy and thriving in the life they have built for themselves while they continue to be blind?

I'm not blind, so forgive me if I am overstepping at any point here but in my opinion, if you want a narrative that gives Day back his eyesight, that story that not be written by a sighted person. You need blind writers, people with the lived experience having control over the story so the narrative is better able to navigate the complexity of a decision like that, to reverse a character's blindness. I just think blind people would be able to minimize how much returning someone's eyesight might come off as ableist in a story like this. Additionally going the cure route is not a choice I think anyone should be making with the first BL that focuses this heavily on blindness. This world is so fucking ableist, if you want to make a story with a disabled main character with how slim of pickings there are, it feels much more responsible and subversive to go a disability pride route.

And these are just the issues around disability in this show, I have problems with the classism in this show, I have problems with the absolute ridiculousness of Mhok and Day's breakup and their reunion. MHOK APOLOGIZES, MHOK THANKS DAY FOR BREAKING UP WITH HIM, DAY DOES NOT APOLOGIZE FOR BREAKING UP WITH MHOK OR BLOCKING HIM ON SOCIALS FOR THREE YEARS BECAUSE MHOK PITIED DAY ONE (1) TIME. I get not wanting to be pitied, I get it, but seriously it is so much less compelling to have Day just completely abandon Mhok after all of the positive experiences they've had together because he messed up once rather than reel himself back in and have an adult conversation about what happened and try to get back to a balanced state.

Anyway, fuck this show. I am so disappointed that this is Aof's last directed piece for who knows how long. He could have gone out with a bang after Moonlight Chicken and now I am just fucking thankful I won't have to see anything else from him for awhile.

[aryaqua-reh2o]

Blitzø's Eyes in The Full Moon

Overanalysing the last 5 minutes of The Full Moon, Blitzø edition.

We know that Blitzø has massive issues and he mainly deals with them by putting on a facade and keeping his walls up. During the interaction with Stolas in the end there are a few moments where his eyes speak volumes because as hard as he tries, he can’t completely hide his true self and how he feels. 

Whenever he is sincere his eyes glow, and when he is scared he shows a little line near his pupils. 

The first moment of sincerity is when Stolas takes the book away:

B: Please Stolas, I need this book, please!

He is honest here, I’d say he is worried but… I’ve seen many people saying he is scared of losing his access to the human world and the ability to provide for himself, Loona and M&M, but he actually never mentions his business, he just repeats he needs this book. Twice. So of course the book is crucial for his business survival, but is it all? I don’t think Blitzø here is talking about his job. I think he’s already scared of being rejected by Stolas. For as much as it has been pointed out that he cares deeply for his daughter and employees, I can’t help but notice that he doesn’t mention them or his business here, and also now the man is back on good terms with his friend Fizz and also Asmodeus himself, would it be that hard to get a crystal from them directly? The book is just an excuse IMO.

- Stares in awe - His reaction here is disbelief. He can’t hide how deeply touched he is by Stolas’ gesture.

S: You no longer need my Grimoire

B: Whaaaat?

Then, even if not eye-related, we have the clear tail twitch that betrays his insecurity

B: Because I can always… I can always do better!

Then Stolas reassures him and… he basically confesses his love to Blitzø

S: Blitzø, I’m giving you this because I care very deeply for you, and I have for some time. 

Finally fear appears for the first time in Blitzø’s eyes and it’s at this exact moment. The deal is broken and Blitzø can’t use it anymore to hide behind it.

S: You don’t have to stay here with me

Finally, just a few seconds from the disaster, we see, if only just for a moment, Blitzø’s eyes glowing and a thin line near his pupil.

S: Only if you want to

He understands, he knows what Stolas is saying, he knows he is honest and Blitzø is scared of it so he tries to run away, to build his walls back up and the only way he knows is through sex and faking. (let's not talk about what happens next...)

S: …Even if only for a little while.

Blitzø realises he screwed up bad and Stolas shut down completely. 

From here he loses his eye glow, but we see fear two more times, here:

B: Wait… what? You were serious??

And here, but I’d say it looks more like terror to me:

S: Goodbye Blitzø.

I have no idea what the point of this extra-long post is, I just needed to do it. 

[izzysillyhandsy]

It is finally time for me to try writing about The Scene.

There's so much happening and changing within seconds. I feel that the whole history of Edward and Izzy is played out here, for (from their point of view) the last time.

We start off with Ed waking Izzy up, taking out his pistol (to Izzy's confusion) and then handing it to Izzy.

They are close, Ed is calm and fully in the moment. It is such an intimate moment, the way Ed tilts his head down in line with the pistol, never breaking eye contact.

And Izzy, who at first was trying to fend Ed off, now looks at him like this:

What is actually going on here? It seems like a return to something they've done before, like a memory of a tender moment. Of course, this is right after Ed tells Iz about the dream. Maybe it's just the closeness, or the fact that this must be the first moment in forever where Izzy is the sole focus of Ed.

But I feel that there is a story there, something in their past that makes Izzy - what is it - happy? Nostalgic? Regretful? I don't see turned on here, it's much softer than that.

"Good for you." (slightly sneering) "It was good for me." (completely sincere)

You don't need me to tell you this has more than one meaning.

Ed touches Izzy's hand as he stands up, "It was just what the doctor ordered."

The first half ends - these were the good times. Spending time together with weapons aimed at each other :). I think this was when both were young and relatively innocent, when life was exciting and the two of them were best friends, possibly even closer than that.

But now the second half starts.

"Anyway, it wasn't even like that."

Also has a double meaning.

"No, in my dream - I was standing. Just like this."

Ed turns his back to Izzy, making this an execution instead of an act of intimacy.

Izzy first raises the pistol, laughs brokenly and desperately. It feels like this was also a situation they'd both been in before. The laugh sounds like "No, we're not doing this. Once was enough."

I think a similar scene happened when they were young, and the next bit strengthens this theory for me.

Izzy puts his hand over half his face, his voice changes and he calls Ed "Eddie" for the first and only time in the show:

"Oh, you're scared, Eddie? To sc- to scared to do it yourself?"

Hornigold also calls Ed "Eddie", and I think Izzy is kind of channeling Hornigold here. Maybe, back on Hornigold's ship, Ed was ordered to execute someone and couldn't. And maybe Izzy had to do it for him. Maybe Izzy had to do lots of traumatizing things for Ed. Maybe the person executed was someone Izzy and/or Ed cared about. And maybe Ed started to resent Izzy for it. The way Ed is spreading his arms out, the way it seems almost staged - it's like Ed is saying "kill me like you killed him".

OR maybe this is how Izzy pep-talked Ed into becoming Blackbeard, which would be much darker (and harder for me as an Izzy apologist). But Izzy telling Stede that Ed's complete breakdown is like 50% his fault may point to events in the past where Izzy thought he had to push Ed into the Kraken-zone to secure their and their crew's survival. Maybe he did this often, especially at the beginning of their Blackbeard fuckery.

What is remarkable though is that Izzy hides his face with his hand, then forces out the words, almost choking on them. This clearly has importance and history - nothing so far in the whole show was forced out so violently - so I am heavily leaning towards a traumatic experience for Ed and Izzy both. It definitely crashes Izzy down from his nostalgia-high real quick.

Now Izzy's voice changes back to his own, but he speaks really fast and without inflection, trying to get everything over with:

"Go on clean up your own fucking mess I'm not doing it I've been doing it all my fucking life."

(without thanks I might add)

"Fuck off."

Izzy's finally, finally had enough.

Ed acknowledges, resignedly, and leaves. I think he expected it to go this way.

Izzy shoots himself. I think Ed also expected this.

Ed says he loved him best he could. It's over. He goes to his own death.

This scene is only a few minutes long, but as I said in the beginning, I think they're reliving their whole relationship here, first the good times (which are quickly devalued - "But it wasn't even like that") and the bad times (I did this for you, but for nothing - "Fuck off").

As Ed says to Frenchie, he's had closure with Izzy. He's shown him what it was like for him. Izzy's also had closure with Ed. From now on, Ed has to carry the weight of his decisions himself.

Both die.

(and then both indestructible fuckers come back)

[thisisjustmefangirling]

Merlin rewatch : 2x09 "The lady of the lake"

Freya must have been so cold wearing these rags…

Gaius, your acceptance/resignation towards people being sold for a price if they have magic freaks me out.

As if Merlin was going to let a defenseless looking girl stay in that cage… Especially someone with magic. He feels empathy for them.

Is that the first time we're seeing the Rising sun tavern ?

Oh Merlin is using so many spells in a few minutes, I'm loving it…

"Here, I thought you might be cold."

"I just saw you and… It could have been me, in that cage".

WHY is Merlin not stealing from the kitchens instead of bringing Arthur a rotten apple and a stale piece of bread ? The NERVE ?! I wouldn't have given this to anyone, even less my BOSS, a PRINCE.

Arthur's indignation : "I am fighting fit!"

I think this is where we're getting started with the fatphobic jokes…

Arthur has scratches/scars on his chest ? Where did he get that ?

Merlin giving Arthur "Sire" because he knows he fucked up…

Oh Freya was a druid ?

Merlin !!!! How did you not realise that that bathwater was BOILING and could COOK ARTHUR TO DEATH ?

"You need to warn them, Sire. The girl is dangerous. My informer told me she was cursed."

"How so ?"

"He didn't know. But he said even the druids were frightened of her. They cast her out of their camp."

So Freya is an outcast. Just like Merlin, in some way. Merlin is so powerful it'd be easy to be afraid of him once he's mature enough. He's not part of the druids. Neither is Freya.

Add butter to that bread and cheese and you get un jambon-beurre haha.

"Believe me, it's fit for a prince" hahaha no shit Merlin !

"He knows but I'm not sure he understands". => Merlin about Gaius knowing about Merlin's magic.

"Magic is not a curse. It can be a gift!" Oh baby in 1x01 you feared you were a monster ?

Merlin is lying to Gaius' face and his very inquisitive eyes…

Merlin stealing Arthur's food is supposed to be a joke, okay, but I'm not sure I like it now. Arthur is being deprived of a good breakfast and lunch. He'll be cranky come evening. Give him food.

"Merlin is my servant, he has my absolute trust. If you have a problem with him, you come to me. Do you understand ?"

This line is doing things to my heart, oh la la…

The fact that Arthur doesn't question Merlin AT ALL about his strange behaviour, they just bicker about the stolen sausages and Arthur's weight and then Merlin just… leaves. And goes straight to see Freya.

"I scare most people away" Freya you deserve better…

"You can't always trust people."

"I know. That's why I left home."

Merlin :/ Babe <3

Let it be remembered that Merlin can make flowers appear, but not food.

"With you, I can just be who I am. We don't have to hide anything. I don't have to worry."

"Being different is nothing to be scared of".

AND THAT SINGLE TEAR ROLLING DOWN HIS CHEEK !

Awww Merlin behaving like a lovesick puppy <3

This is the first time Merlin even THINKS about leaving Camelot. He's known Freya for two days. He's just really desperate to be known for who he really is, and to be free…

Moths and woodworms : the "reasons" why Merlin is snooping into closets and bedside tables he should not be touching at all.

"Running an errand for Gaius" : excuse number 1 for weird shit and secret missions Merlin is doing.

Arthur not giving a fuck about Merlin possibly crossdressing for fun in his spare time : "As long as you do a decent day's work, Merlin, that's all I care about. […] What a man does in his spare time is completely up to him". And then the compliment : "colour suits you Merlin".

This is day three now.

"We can leave tonight, as soon as it gets dark, and we can be together".

Horses, blankets and food and they won't need more. A second kiss, and goodbye. Freya doesn't have the heart to tell him.

"There was a time when you thought twice about lying to me".

Yet Merlin said "Of course not!" which such an air of sincerity… Oh yeah, he's turning into a really good liar…

Mais Gaius t'es tellement une grosse balance, t'es là à lécher les pompes d'UTHER au lieu de régler le problème avec Merlin !

"You can never understand. Do you know how it feels to be a monster? To be afraid of who you are ?"

"Freya is very different from you. She's dangerous."

Oh I didn't remember Arthur saw her in her human form ! Lol he's just there blinking as she's turning into a bastet…

I can't freaking believe Arthur's guards and knights are running away while Arthur is trying to fight the bastet !

MERLIN ! You almost crushed Arthur to death !

He's petting her head ???

OH is Freya a rape survivor, forced to kill people by the mother of her rapist ? That's so fucked up…

"Please go."

"No. I'm not leaving you here".

The PARALLELS with Arthur's dying moments !

"One day, Merlin, I will repay you. I promise". Okay but do we actually see that happen in the next seasons ? I don't remember her.

What I do remember from years ago is directors saying that Colin held that level of intensity and sadness for hours in the rain for those lake scenes.

It's the first time he has to light a funeral pyre for a friend and it sadly won't be the last…

That last scene with Arthur always gets to me. Arthur might be oblivious to a lot of things but he pays attention to Merlin more than Merlin might think, I'd say.

"Something's been upsetting you, hasn't it ?"

Arthur has seen Merlin doing the weirdest things in the past four days or so : stealing his food, calling him fat, giving him stale food to eat, stealing a dress, being accused of hiding a druid… And he doesn't accuse Merlin of anything himself. He thinks "Oh, Merlin has been upset. I must find out why. Maybe it's because of me." and then he sort of apologises and when words fail him, he uses action to make Merlin smile again. Because seeing Merlin smile, as we'll learn in the next seasons ("I haven't seen you smile in the past three days") is important to Arthur. Because he cares. Another thing that gets to me is that when Merlin is sitting upset doing his chores, Arthur usually comes to sit next to him, at his eye level, or even UNDER his eye level sometimes. Yet, a Prince should never be sitting at a lower level than a servant or any lesser noble. He gives himself the look of a listener, and he's bad with words and feelings (because of his father's shitty education) but he TRIES.

Last episode was Arthur centric, with Arthur showing his most intimate thoughts and feelings to/in front of Merlin : his grief and guilt about his mother's death, his rage at the idea that his father was responsible for her death, that he was a hypocrite and a liar... This episode was Merlin centric. I wonder what next episode will be like.

This episode was really good at exploring Merlin's feelings about his magic, his identity as a warlock, his sense of loneliness at the heart of Camelot. Gaius cares about him but is still loyal to Uther, and Merlin is not sure Gaius really understands him and what it's like to be a warlock. Arthur... Merlin cares about Arthur and Arthur cares about him, but Merlin knows that he could end up in a cage just like Freya. And I think a part of him might resent Arthur for it. Or at least, at the end of the episode, he's tired of his chores... But no wonder. Your crush is killed by your soulmate, and you still have to show up at work the next day and shine his boots ?