#wanting to know whats really going on w them

[luveline]

hi hii jade! Was wondering if you could do something sweet and fluffy w poly!marauders where reader wakes up in a very cozy and giggly mood 🤭 just some warm domestic love hehe

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k

Someone is kissing his waist. Sirius squirms in his dozing, not expecting it as those kisses travel up his naked chest. Your laugh is breathy and soft as you kiss his shoulder, your weight strewn across his side and arm, your hand finding his cheek. 

Your fingers feel inhuman in the best way, like an angel. They spread across his face and neck as you hold him in place and kiss the skin where his neck meets his shoulder. “I love you…” you whisper, the ‘you’ turning long and slow like honey slipping down his front. “I wish you didn’t sleep so much.” 

You kiss him again, and with that you’re out of bed. Out of the room before Sirius has time to gather his wits, but he does gather them, because he needs more of whatever that was. 

What sort of sweetheart kisses somebody with such gentleness thinking they won’t remember? To press affection into him with want of nothing in return. He doesn’t even bother getting dressed, just scrubs at his sleep-swollen face and fishes the crusties from his eyes as he descends the stairs, numb-legged. 

James is grabbing you by the hips, helping you up onto the counter. His curls bounce at the back of his neck. “What’s gotten into you?” he asks. 

“Love, for sure.” 

“I can see that. Eggs? Omelette?” 

“Jamie, you can make anything. Actually, let me make you something–”

James pushes you further onto the top. “That’s okay, I’m cooking. I want to cook.” 

Sirius isn’t insecure, exactly. He feels he’s quite handsome when he attempts to be, and he knows you like him whether he’s trying or not, but he doesn’t know if you want to be interrupted, either of you, and it’s his private agony to wonder what to do. Then you spot him over James’ shoulder and your eyes practically sparkle. 

“Siri…” you sing-song, melodic as he crosses the kitchen linoleum to be with you and James. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.” 

Sirius touches James’ elbow with love but swoops in on you. “Did you wake me?” he asks, kissing your cheek, his arms working behind you to hold you as his lips travel downward. He isn’t half as sweet as you were, too busy trying to squeeze your torso against his and mould you into a perfect fit against him and under his arm to really think about what he’s doing. 

“She did it to me, too.” 

Sirius pulls your face into his neck and turns to James with a grin. “And Remus?” 

“He was already awake. But she kissed him and did that thing where her eyes somehow look bigger and shiny and he had to go for a walk.” 

“He didn’t have to go for a walk,” you mumble from Sirius’ neck. “He always walks on Saturday mornings. He’s just getting some herbs from the greenhouse.” 

The back door opens on cue. Remus reappears with an aura about him much like yours, dropping the cut herbs on the cutting board, and stopping just shy of everyone to smile. “Did she do it to you, as well?” he asks. 

James squeezes Remus’ face in his hand, a quick thank you for the herbs that has the latter turning pink. 

“She waylaid me with kisses like a common whore.” 

“Sirius,” James says scornfully. 

“Me being the whore,” Sirius says. You laugh into his neck, seemingly with no inclination to leave the circle of his arms. “Will I ever see your face again?” he asks. 

“It’s cozy here. I wish we’d stayed in bed.” 

“We can go back.” 

“After breakfast,” James says, popping an egg on the edge of the frying pan, breaking the shell one handed as he gives the sizzling oil a shake. 

Remus not so subtly crosses the last of the space to slot himself between your right thigh and the counter. Sirius has the urge to cup his cheek as James had done —Remus has an extremely holdable face— but is distracted by your nose nuzzling the line of his throat. 

“I love you,” you say. 

Doesn’t matter who you’re talking to. All three boys melt. 

“I’d like to do some really weird things to you,” Sirius says. 

“Me too,” James agrees. “But we do need breakfast first.” 

“No one is doing anything weird to me, it’s the weekend.” You beam as Remus laughs, seemingly your intention. 

Sirius backs away to a polite but still close proximity. He isn’t selfish; being in a ‘strange’ relationship like this one is a lot of reading cues, and a lot of just plain old climbing into people's laps when you want them, because nobody can truly read minds. Yet Sirius can see that you’re in the sort of mood where everything you touch turns to gold and all the boys want a piece of you, and who is he to get in the way of that? 

Well, he’s your boyfriend. He takes a kiss before he delegates himself to being herb-chopper, stealing glances of you from the corner of his eye. 

You tease a strand of Remus’ hair behind his ear. 

“Weird stuff is for weekdays only,” you’re murmuring. “What I want today is the real romantic stuff.” 

“Then you can have it,” Remus murmurs back. 

Sirius will happily be doing very romantic things to both of you after his omelette. James, too, if he’s so inclined. 

[blackmoonoracle]

BLACKMOONORACLE PRESENTS ...

PICK A CARD • OCTOBER PREDICTIONS

P I L E O N E

Soooo, you’ve definitely got a pretty decent release coming in during the month of october. I specifically heard the releasing of a karmic contract, so, I truly love that for you. You could be making a decision about a connection, it definitely feels like a past energy though. Some sort of cycle you’ve experienced with a particular soul over and over again. You put a stop to this though, I feel like you called it like it was. I’m channeling Vultures by Earl Sweatshirt and the beginning of the song literally goes. “I’ve been on the run, that’s why I go harder than you go. Plus I call em how I see em, maybe that’s why I’m all alone.” Season of the Witch is currently playing and it’s the part that goes “you’ve got to pick up every stitch” it feels like an energy of uprooting. I do feel like this pile has a tendency to hold onto people that don’t serve them in any way shape or form. Channeling Serve the Servants by Nirvana, in specific this part stands out:

“I just want you to know that I don't hate you anymore There is nothing I could say that I haven't thought before”

There feels like a specific intention in this pile to remove themselves from relationships that are dragging them down.

Something may be occurring that is causing you to let go of this connection, like something is going to make you realize you’re wasting your time. It’s not like usual either, it’s like this undismissable feeling of disgust and realization.

The mask is being ripped off, and in a very ugly way LOL.

I feel like whatever information you’re going to learn from this situation is actually going to help you develop better self esteem and turn a new leaf. It feels like a sigh of relief, this person possibly made you feel like you weren’t good enough, or were a bad person. I heard “I’m always the problem” and you’re going to realize that you aren’t and never were the problem.

I literally heard “reactive abuse”.

If you’d like to book a personal reading you can always dm me on here or instagram.

P I L E T W O

You guys are making social waves the month of october by setting harsh boundaries and restrictions in place with others. I heard “Look but don’t touch” I feel like there may be some kind of drama going on in october. I did hear workplace, so for some of you this could be career/reputation/workplace related drama and bs bubbling over. I see you taking things into your own hands and very critically thinking about the situation so you can make a solid decision that is balanced and fair. I also heard “in your favor” I feel like whoever this person you have issues with is doesn’t have a very good reputation. It’s almost like this person speaking so negatively of you constantly is really aggravating other people. Especially because you don’t really talk about them at all. You’ve pretty much moved on from whatever this is.

I heard “bitter ex friend” and I also heard “bite the bullet” and I heard something about a poison apple? Someone could have tried to use an apple in some sort of hex or spellwork towards you. It could be also that someone has poisonous intentions of trying to gain access to you and that you are putting that shit to a stop.

I heard scorpio, so this person could be a scorpio. I see you essentially making a judgment on this person socially which is going to cause other people to really see them in a different light. You could also be bringing context or clarity to some kind of situation, you hold missing information or you are a missing link in some way. I also heard complexity, so this situation could be very complex.

This new judgment will teach you to be more selfish with your time and resources so that you can create a genuine balance in your life.

Too much gratitude I heard, which is lowkey crazy? I think that what that means is that essentially sometimes you put shit on a pedestal. There’s a self worth wound being worked out in this situation tbh.

If you’d like to book a personal reading you can always dm me on here or instagram.

P I L E T H R E E

I see a new financial opportunity becoming available in the month of october for you, something unexpected. It could be in something with creation of some kind, doing and creating content possibly even? I see you handling business matters and phone calls of some kind? I heard admin, so some sort of administrative position? I also heard dream job, so for some of you this could be a once in a lifetime opportunity or for others this could be a really solid offer. I also heard high caliber, but I’m also hearing don’t work yourself to death. This group feels very capricorn type of energy, addicted to working, you love making money. I see where you’ve fought long and hard to get into whatever position is being given to you. I see where you’ve lost so much, in search of stability and I feel like you will need to face your shadow of lack and insecurity while in this job position or offer. It almost feels like some of you may try to eject yourself out of the situation because you’re scared or because it feels too good to be true? I feel like this is a good opportunity, but don’t get wrapped up in social liaison I heard. I feel like you have to learn to be comfortable with not fitting in or being like neck deep in a community. You’re meant to be a bit of an outlier at this current point in time because you are learning something new. You’ve already developed the social skills, this is about developing a deeper personal skillset that you can really utilize to drive you to your success.

I see this group really coming to terms with the past, and releasing either the fear of being seen for who you are. I’m also hearing “of being heard” a fear of being perceived for who you really are. You are healing your relationship to yourself, i heard “grotesque” you might be really mean to yourself a lot of the time. Like highkey you are very impatient and cruel to yourself at times and it lowkey sucks for you. I also heard don’t lose sight of what you have, this new opportunity is here for you to milk it for what it has to offer and then dip when things begin to culminate on a deeper scale for you. Some of you could really go through a deep spiritual awakening and learn what happiness truly means to you as a result of this.

If you’d like to book a personal reading you can always dm me on here or instagram

[sencrose]

— READING BETWEEN THE LINES

pairing: suguru geto x f!reader

tags: dc, noncon, fingering, forced orgasm, pwp, use of pet names (sweetheart), suguru being condescending lol

wc: 1.4k

summary: Breaking up with Suguru doesn't go as well as you had hoped.

a/n: idk what possessed me ngl! writing warmup that got out of hand ig lol. dividers by @/adornedwithlight! ao3 link here.

This is always the worst part, the anticipation of the unknown. You dragged Suguru into a private corner of the monastery, stating that you needed to talk to him about something important. Part of you hopes he won’t notice that something is clouding your mind, but another part of you knows how perceptive he can be – of shifting eyes, a nervous shake of the leg. Anything he sees can be interpreted and used against you. It’s just too much for you, to constantly live under his judgment and surveillance.

Once inside the room, you ask Suguru to sit down in an armchair in the corner, because when he’s at a lower height you can convince yourself he’s not nearly as intimidating as he actually is. He almost looks normal when you look down at him. But then his amber eyes catch yours, and you feel like a deer in headlights.

Breath, hold, let it out slowly.

“I think we should see other people,” you say, nearly hushed.

Suguru takes a moment to pause, before looking up at you with a smile. It’s not the reaction you wanted.

“You think?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice, “you wouldn’t do all of this to tell me you’re thinking of doing something.”

He’s right; you don’t like that. It only makes you uneasier, inhale shakily and exhale just as unstable.

“We should see other people,” you sigh, a knot tightening in your chest. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, opting to stare down at the ornate patterns on the carpet, anywhere but him.

“Where’s your spirit?” he asks, pouting and high-pitched, as if he’s talking down to a child, “you sound horribly unconvincing.”

You were foolish to ever think you would have an advantage against Suguru in a war of words. He’s always a few steps ahead of you, quick to retort any thought that takes days for you to mold and craft. Still, you do your best. This would be the last time anyways.

“W-we should see other people,” you repeat, attempting to sound resolute only for your voice to betray you, wavering like a tree branch in a windstorm.

“We both see plenty of people here,” he says, leaning back into the chair to sink into the fabric, his posture even more relaxed than before, “I don’t see why you dragged me in here to say this.”

For the first time, frustration overwhelms your nerves, swirls in your chest and manifests into something loud and impulsive.

“Suguru, I’m breaking up with you,” you blurt out. 

An uneasy silence permeates through the room, and you feel the need to smother it. Unfortunately, any semblance of a coherent thought, much less a sentence, eludes you.

“Tell me what you really want.” Suguru says, the first to break it. You start to think the silence was better.

“I am.”

“No, you aren’t. I know you aren’t,” he says so matter-of-factly you’re close to believing him, “say it again.” Suguru shifts in the seat until he’s leaning forward, hands intertwined and planted in his lap.

“N-No, you’re just messing with me,” you say, backing away from him.

“That should be my line,” he sighs, standing from his seat. He takes a step towards you and your heart trembles. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I just-”

“Nothing’s wrong but you want to break up?” he interrupts, crossing his arms as he glares at you.

“No, I mean-” you fumble your words, unsure how to mitigate the situation. Suguru takes another step towards you, and you take another one back.

“Mean what?” The corners of his lips upturn, and you both know he has you cornered.

You stand there, finally at a loss for words. Even if you were able to articulate your thoughts, you know that Suguru would twist them in his favor. 

“See? You don’t even know what you want,” he says, condescension dripping from his words before he softens his tone into something gentler. The way you would speak to a wounded animal. “But it’s okay, because I do.”

Suguru takes the opportunity to close the distance, taking your hand into his and pulling you into a kiss. His lips crash into yours and you writhe under his touch, desperately pushing him away. But all you get is an arm latched around your waist, the sensation of your bodies pressed together in a suffocating heat. His lips finally part from yours, and you rush to turn your face away from his.

“Suguru, please stop,” you whimper.

“Why? You’ll just lie again,” he answers, his hand reaching for your chin to turn you towards him, “don’t you know how much that hurts me?” he asks, voice too sweet to be genuine.

You do your best to keep your eyes away from him, the only form of protest you can afford right now. He’s unphased by it, releasing his grip on your chin to lift the hem of your skirt and trace the undeniable wet spot on your underwear.

“And it seems like your body is more honest than your words,” he whispers dangerously low in your ear, as if it’s a dirty secret he had the privilege of uncovering. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction but you don’t have much of a choice. 

He pulls your underwear down, lets it fall unceremoniously onto the floor. Before long, his fingers find your clit and you wince at the contact. You bite down on your lips when he starts drawing lazy circles, not wanting to give him any more ammunition to use against you. 

“You don’t actually want to leave, do you?” he whispers sweetly, and it makes your breath catch for all the wrong reasons. His fingers slowly but surely pick up the pace, and it gets harder to choke back your moans. You attempt to maneuver yourself away from his touch, but that only makes him press himself harder against you, tightening his grip against your waist. 

“You’re just misbehaving because I haven’t given you enough attention, right? Then I’ll give you all the attention you want.”

“Suguru, please, I don’t want this,” you cry, and it’s nowhere close to convincing, too high-pitched and whiny.

“We’ve got to work on your communication skills, sweetheart. They’re a hallmark of a good relationship, you know. And I only want the best with you,” he coos, almost songlike. His fingers build up to a steady pace and you feel your muscles involuntarily tighten, prepare yourself for the climax to come. 

“We can even try it now. Tell me, how does this feel?” He slips a finger in and you writhe under his grip.

“Suguru, stop!” you squeal, tears forming in your eyes, making the colors of the room blend and blur together. 

“Don’t think that’s the right answer,” he says in that patronizing tone again, and you can hear the pout in his voice. As punishment he slips in another finger, and within moments he’s bullying the spot that has you crying from pleasure like he’s done so many times before. Your fingers grip around his arm, nails digging into his skin and leaving crescent indents in his skin, but Suguru is nothing if not determined.

“I just don’t see why you’d want to leave when I do all of this for you.” The arm around your waist finally releases, only for his other hand to trace the curves of your body until it reaches your clit. He starts building the pressure again, slow circles to contrast against the rapid pace of his fingers.

Your breathing destabilizes as your muscles tense up again against your will. You know you’re getting close, which means Suguru knows as well. 

“Let it all out for me, sweetheart,” And you do, body shivering and walls clamping around his finger like a vice. The rush of heat and pleasure running through you is too much, and you fall back onto old habits, closing your eyes and moaning his name like a mantra as he guides you through your climax. Suguru only pulls himself out of you once your breathing stabilizes, when you finally come out of your postorgasmic daze and the tears start running down your cheeks.

He gently holds your face, rubbing the tears with his thumb before laying a soft kiss on your cheek.

“If this is what you wanted, you should’ve told me. Spare me the theatrics next time, okay?”

[yeonbinwyd]

Helloooo can you do a fic of anyone? Can you do public sex with enha Sunghoon?

yessss omg

study buddies?

pairing: subfem!reader x softdom! Sunghoon

synopsis: You and Sunghoon are classmates. You asked him for help to study for an upcoming test and he asks for something in return.

genre (w/tags): smut, (minors dni), kinky sex, public sex, selfish sex, aggressive sex

a/n: Sunghoon gives me the vibes of a selfish lover when you first meet him but then I think once you get to know him he’s really tender so there might be a pt II to this

Word Count: 967

Park Sunghoon was not only gorgeous but had the highest grades in your class. That class was Impossibly hard but it just came easy to him. You were failing and your only option left was to ask him.

“Hey Sunghoon. Our professor said you might be a good person to ask for some help. Do you think you could help me study for the next test?” You ask him after class. He eyes you up and down before giving you an answer. He never really talked much in class either. That’s what made him a bit intimidating. He looks you dead in the eye.

“Ok are you free tomorrow after 9? I’ve got skating after my classes tomorrow. It usually goes late.” He says while packing up his things.

“Y-yeah S-sure how does the library sound? I could book a study room.” You suggest. He nods while tapping his phone on yours. His contact was instantly saved.

“I’ll text you when I finish up.” He grabs his things and takes off. Everyone did call him a little smug but you didn’t want to believe it. He was definitely cold.

It’s the next day at around 8:50. You’re not really on campus this late but it was a good time to study for the other classes you had. Your phone started to buzz.

“Finishing up here. I’ll meet you at the library in 15” The text from Sunghoon reads. He definitely keeps his promise. 15 mins passed and your phone buzzes again.

“I’m outside”

You go to meet him and you take him up to the study room you rented for the next couple of hours. He gets settled , taking his notes and text books out.

A couple hours go by and you two finish up the session. He was actually super helpful and really great to talk to. Half of the time you two just talk about life and his lack of one. Sunghoon sighs, resting back in his desk chair. He stretches, causally flexing his biceps. You couldn’t help but take them in and bite your lip. He notices you checking him out, doing the same in return. You were wearing a low cut top with tight jeans, who wouldn’t look.

“Hey..since I helped you, can you help me?” He asked as he slides his chair back from the table. He was manspread, arm propped on the armrest of the chair. His glasses at the tip of his nose, checking you out. His question sparked your curiosity.

“What you have in mind?” You asked in return. Sunghoon smirked while unzipping his jeans. He motioned you to come over to him while taking off his glasses. You obey and scoot closer to him. He grabs your face, assertively kissing your mouth. He pulls away.

“I’ve noticed you in class. You’re pretty hot. Especially in those short skirts you wear. I need help releasing some tension.” Sunghoon explains, hand on your thigh. He was very serious.

“I’m flattered. Yeah I’ll help you out.” You agreed leaning back in to kiss him. He pulls you onto his lap, grabbing your ass to stay in place. You instantly wrap your arms around his neck, really feeling the kiss. Your tongues collide, fighting for dominance. You couldn’t tell his stress wasn’t going to let him lose. You give him control then you feel him smirk in the kiss. He then starts sucking on your tongue and bottom lip.

“Mmmm I wish I could take my time with you” he apologizes then helps you to your feet. He quickly bends you over the desk, taking the condom from his pocket. While he frees his cock, you push your panties to your ankles but keeping your skirt on. If anyone knocks you can get dressed quick but it was so late so you doubt you were getting caught. He pushes your head into the table, still apply pressure, he slides in from behind. You both groan in unison. He keeps your back straight while gripping your wrists snug and begins to thrust. He keeps you flush against the table so no one will see you. As he thrusts into you, he feels your walls caving almost immediately. Sunghoon growls with each stroke, feeling you pull him in. He wants to speed up and really tear into you but desperately doesn’t want to get caught.

“The room is soundproof.” You reassured. He relaxes his shoulders, ready to let loose.

“Good” Sunghoon was towering over you and ready. His strokes become powerful and abrupt. You pant with each thrust becoming more aggressive each time he penetrates. Sex sounds fill the room but nothing escapes. The room was on the 22nd floor with a large glass window would show the whole room. He pulls you up, pressing you against the window ducking you low enough for no to see you in the building. Those who were bystanders on the street, could see it all. He pulls up your shirt causing your breasts to fall out and keeps with his strides. Your chest bounce with every stroke was making him insane. Sunghoon held them while pounding in you.

“You feel so g -good I don’t want to s-stop” he slurs his speech, his eyes rolling back. This overwhelming feeling was making you cry out but took him like a champ. You just wanted to help him take that stress away.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum” he pulls you by your wrist, giving those last few blows. His grip so strong, it leaves a bruise. You both shout as you cum together. Your cum dripping down your leg as Sunghoon pulls out. Sliding down the window to your knees, you feel the energy get drained out of you. He kisses your forehead.

“We’ll go to my place next time”

[babybatss-blog]

DOMESTICS

Sirius black x reader, 1100  words

summary: all you wanted to do was cook Sirius some chicken for dinner, but perhaps things don’t always go your way.

c/w: established relationship, alcohol consumption, swearing and crying, argument between Sirus and Reader. Practically just tame, basic relationship angst that turns into fluff :)

The classic casual Friday night is always a big step in any intimate relationship. Stepping out of uncomfortable outfits and delicate table foods into comfy hoodies and junky snacks creates a whole new level of intimacy with a partner, and can be quite nerve wracking for at least the first few instances. 

But you and Sirius are way past that.

On the first date, you stayed the night at his for two whole days. You met his best friends on that second day, and he met yours just four days later. James said you were funny, and Lily said Sirus was smitten. He admired your comfortableness with him while you appreciated his lack of care towards your groggy state every morning, and a week in you both shared your deepest traumas with each other. On some random Wednesday your parents turned up unannounced in your apartment, which is when he met them both shirtless and slightly hungover (though he concealed the latter expertly).

So, two months later it is entirely expected to have Sirius lounging on your couch, watching some Netflix overproduced action show and as you cook dinner. Usually he prefers taking control of the kitchen because he “likes to spoil his girls”, but he did not impose when you insisted it was your turn to give him some love. The kitchen smells like a variety of spices and mouth-watering flavours, and despite the simple dish you are preparing the kitchen looks like a professional chef is making a world-famous meal. Plates, pots and pans are spread around, ingredients spilled on any and all surfaces and your state decreased to completely dishevelled, huffing and puffing at every slight inconvenience to come your way. “This needs to be perfect for him.” You think, anxiously managing every element with not a moment to spare. Unbeknownst to you Sirus has now snuck over, and softly places his chiselled chin on your shoulder as you peer over the cooking meat.

“Looks raw.” He states nonchalantly, arms creeping around your waist. “I know. It’s not done yet.” You explain bluntly, words leaving your mouth slightly more harsh than you intended. But you don’t take them back, as your focus is entirely taken up by the meal in front of you.

Wait, I thought it was done? What’s it meant to look like if it is done? What does it taste like? What more does it need?

He soon releases you, walking away to the bathroom as he calls out. “Sorry for not wanting to be poisoned I guess!” You huff, opting to not fight back in fear of putting too much energy into something that doesn’t really matter in the scheme of things. You and Sirius are both painfully stubborn when you want to be, and are often laughed at by your friends for getting in ridiculous arguments. Once, you needed to go on a walk and clear your head after the two of you debated which Barbie movie is the best.

As he returns from the bathroom he subtly side eyes the chicken, seeing you have now placed it on a plate ready for serving. Against his better judgment, he calls out, in a half cough half word amalgamation which complains “still raw”. Would it be smart for you to reply? No, of course not! But do you do it anyway? Obviously!

“WELL WHY DON’T YOU COOK THEN MR PERFECT?!” You snap, eyes erratic and wide as you face him. He scoffs, hands placed on the kitchen counter opposite you.

“I’d be happy to, but you didn’t fucking let me!”

”Didn’t let you? I’m not your mother, I’m sorry I wanted to do something nice for you!”

“Well it isn’t nice if I’m too sick to go to work tomorrow!”

“Relax hard ass, you start work at three!” The argument quickly escalates past the point of reasonable, as Sirius’ arms flail widely about and the vegetables are left to burn in the oven.

In a closing statement you call Sirius a “spoilt brat” and he storms off, slamming the bedroom door behind him so he can no longer hear you if you try to apologise. Tears well in your eyes as you look around, realising what just happened truly as your brain finally processes. How can your worst argument be about some stupid chicken? You rush to repair the damage of your distractions to the meal, pulling the vegetables out of the oven as your salty tears fall within. You can barely see through your exaggerated sobs, mad at yourself for all manner of things.

Why did you let his simple comments go to your head? What if he’s right, and the meals a disaster? Will he despise you now for going so off the handle? Is this the last night of your fleeting romance?

You quietly serve up the food as these thoughts run through your head, wiping away gushing tears and snot as you go. Once it’s done, you tentatively go over to the closed door of the bedroom and knock a few times. You hear some shuffles, and the door is opened to reveal an unimpressed Sirus. “Sorry…” You mumble, eyes glued to the wooden floor between you. He pushes past you in silence, grabbing his plate and sitting down on the plush couch. As much as you would like to beg for forgiveness and list all the reasons you should stay together, you don’t deem that important when he pats the space next to him to sit down, handing you a sympathetic yet weak smile. “I know you didn’t mean it.” He finally gets out, eyes drilling into your still shy figure. “I just was trying to help.” “I know. But I didn’t want you to have to worry. I wanted to spoil you; you know?” His hand falls onto your thigh, the other placing the chicken in his hungry mouth. You join him in eating the meal, and reluctantly admit what you wished wasn’t true.

“It’s not fully cooked.” You pout, tears still glossing your eyes. He chuckles, placing his plate down and enveloping you in a hug. “That’s fine gorgeous. UberEats it is.” You pull back and quickly peck his lips, a smile forming on both your faces as you respond.

“Only if it’s Mexican.”

“Deal.”

[pedroshotwifey]

hi wifey , may i please have some old jackson joel fluff (his long hair drives me crazy and I need him so bad)

Okay babe omg I so got you!! Ty for sending me something to play with! 😋

May not be the best, but it’s something :) I present to you:

Giving Jackson!Joel a Bath After a Long Day (G)

W/C: 604

(Complete reader insert other than mentioned hair)

Alright so imagine Joel coming home from a long day of patrol—longer than usual thanks to a small horde of clickers he and his group found that morning. Because it’s so abnormally late, he’s exhausted and expecting to just rinse off in the shower and join you in bed, hoping to God that you aren’t going to be upset with him for having to stay out longer….

What he doesn’t know is that you’re still up, waiting patiently for the bathtub to fill up to the perfect point with warm water because you know he’ll be returning soon.

He doesn’t know that, as he carefully kicks his work boots off by the door, you’re lighting a gallery of candles and spreading them carefully around the tub and on the bathroom counter. 

He has no idea that, as he slowly climbs the stairs, his muscles aching and straining with each painful step, you’re shutting the water off and turning out the light to let the candles cast a warm and comfortable glow. 

He’s confused for a moment when he walks into your bedroom to find your shared bed empty—scared that you really may be mad. But then he catches a soft whiff of your vanilla candles. He takes short steps into the bathroom and just about melts in the doorway when he takes in the sight of you sitting on a short stool by the tub, surrounded by rose petals and candles.

You have one of his flannels on, one of your favorites to wear when you’re missing him. The sleeves are rolled up, your hair is out of your face, a soft smile plays on your lips. You’ve been waiting for him. 

“Hey, baby,” you invite him in. “Let me help you relax?” 

If Joel was any more tired, he’d probably cry. Luckily, he’s awake enough to instead take the few steps to you, cup your cheeks, and lean down to kiss your forehead. His lips are gentle as his grip, like you’re a delicate flower all too easy to maim. 

You both bask in comfortable silence as you help Joel undress and lower himself into the tub. You’ve even put bubbles in, which he lets out a light chuckle about. His eyes fall shut as the water surrounds him, relieving his protesting muscles.

You’re gentle as you scrub him down with a washcloth and your favorite soap, worshiping each beautiful part of him with equal admiration. You know he likes the smell of it, as much as he hates to admit it. 

Kind and loving words are passed through eye contact, neither of you wanting to break the trance you’ve created quite yet. You know each other intimately enough to understand the meaning behind every glance and stare. 

Whereas he would usually try to brush you off, he lets you comb through the tangles in his long, graying curls. You, again, use your shampoo and conditioner, and he says nothing against it. He breathes in the scent deeply, relaxing further into your touch. 

When you’re done, you plant a soft kiss to his lips, and when you pull away, you find a vulnerability in Joel’s eyes that tells you more than words ever could. He doesn’t have to use his voice to make you understand that you’re the first to care for him like this—the first to want to care for him like this. 

He refuses to dress after drying off, instead carrying you to bed and cuddling up with you so that his body can hold yours. Your heartbeats dance together in the darkness, the gentle patter settling you both to sleep.

[madockisser]

cardan/nicasia: why they’ll never happen again analysis/speculation

a while back i saw someone (or rather, a thread of ppl saying that they hope cardan and nicasia don’t get it on in the next book which is supposed to be nicasias book (supposedly) and i even saw someone say they WISH THEY DO ?!

so here’s your fun reminder of what nicasia put cardan through!

I’ve gathered together all the shit nicasia did to cardan: being the first girl he loved then breaking his heart w his friend, allowing cardan to catch them ON HIS BEDROOM FLOOR. (not entirely her fault but she totally had shits and giggles abt it when cardan confronted her) then when Locke screwed her over, she got CARDAN and his power as prince, to harass the girl(s) locke chose over her, one of which cardan liked, then later on was trying to manipulate him to marry her (which i think is when cardan realized they weren’t rly even friends anymore), THEN kidnapping and torturing the girl she knew cardan loved, AND befriending his abusive neglectful mother!

like damn. how u even fumble that bad, not just romantically but as a friend.

also I’d like to add her consistent entitlement, not just the whole “i bully girls bc I’m a princess and i can!” but the “cardan take me back even after i emotionally ruined you multiple times!” 😐

poor cardan

anyway, I’ve read lots of holly black books, and she is VERY mindful w abusive sort of relationships. and cheating relationships. she writes about them a LOT and each time they are pretty irredeemable.

note(the only exceptions):Taryn and hazel (darkest part of the forest) who sorta cheated on accident/ it wasn’t their fault-> but didn’t end well

add on note sorry: “but nicasia cheated on cardan on accident bc Locke was a gancanagh!” false! nicasia admitted that what her and Locke were doing was prolonged, the scene that cardan finds them is not their first time screwing around. nicasia KNOWINGLY cheated on cardan. then she was like “ok but i still care abt u! take me back” ?

now you can say that it could sorta be classified as an accident due to lockes natures (which are actually really disturbing if u think abt it) and that’s true, i never blamed nicasia for that relationship, but i do blame her for all the utter dogshit she not only put cardan thru, but Jude.

and this is cardan we are talking about. he who killed half an army for Jude when madoc tried taking his daughter back (sounds funny out of context).

we must remember that cardan does not want Jude hurt and humiliated and that’s exactly what nicasia went and did to Jude. through all the books bro. nicasia literally kidnapped and tortured Jude in the undersea so there’s 0 chance of cardan touching nicasia unless maybe to turn her into a tree again (but he can always just do that at a distance 😛)

anyway back to the cheating:

which is why i know that holly would never pull any sort of bull w cardan and nicasia, and you may be thinking (well that’s bullshit what do u know?) 3 separate books w cheating tropes, and 5+ diff relationships that involve cheating w no redemption. LOL

anyway black and i certainly agree on that front, and the way she uses the trope so consistently, and makes it so the cheaters are never endgame, or have a horrible death (Locke AND his mom, also Eva Duarte 😭the dude Ben dated from dpotf, and Kaye and that guy Janet was dating, Val and Tom and dave and lolli (modern faerie tales)) is pretty telling!

holly is great at writing healthy relationships, and she knows that tcp is her biggest hit w the media, so she won’t go and fuck that, not just bc she would never and it’s out of her writing style and character and literally moral compass when it comes to writing relationships, but also bc her publishers/editors would NEVER let that slide.

but i can’t wait for her book! i love knowing that nicasia will never have a chance w cardan again, it’s no less than what she deserves 😋

anyway sorry for ranting! I just feel so strongly abt this topic, cardan would never cheat on Jude, since he’s been cheated on before, and it was heart wrenching, and bc of his upbringing, he would never. if you haven’t, go thru my masterlist in my pinned and find the cardan /nicasia thing where i explain why he wouldn’t cheat far better there!

But feel free to add on, i probably missed a few things so lmk!! 🫶

[slutz4marsh]

Kyle Broflovski x Bratty F!Reader SMUT for April!!! <3

Look. Kyle considered himself to be a generally patient person.

Although, he did know that depending on who he asked, some people might say that was complete and utter bullshit.

Whatever. The point was that he had patience. If not in general, at least for you.

Which was why it frustrated him when you acted like a brat.

He was patient with you, and generally, he didn’t like to be super rough with you. He didn’t like to ruin you. Not on purpose, anyway. Kyle liked to worship you, treat you like a precious little doll that needed his protection.

And yet you still acted like this even when he treated you like a precious, sweet angel. His angel, his doll, his princess.

Kyle had thoughts when you walked out of your house in a shirt that showed off the curve of your breasts and a skirt that didn’t leave that much to the imagination, but he didn’t say anything. Figured, hey. Maybe you weren’t doing it on purpose.

But when you went out and he caught you leaning forward toward your friends, giggling and twirling your hair and pushing your arms together to force your breasts together?

Yeah. He knew what the fuck you were doing.

So, he stood up and grabbed your arm to yank you along with him. He told his friends that he just remembered that you two had something you had to do, something about a project or something. It was a good enough excuse, considering they all bought it.

Kyle was dead silent until he got you in the car, and then he shook his head while he started the car. He pressed his foot on the gas pedal, eyes narrowed at the road.

“I really cannot fucking believe you sometimes,” Kyle snapped, his knuckles white from how tight he was holding the steering wheel.  “I mean, I saw the outfit and thought it was weird, but whatever.”

He shook his head. “But whatever the hell that was?” Kyle scoffed. “You are such a brat sometimes.”

You knew Kyle was mad and nothing you could say would make it any better, so you chose to stay quiet and let Kyle vent out his irritations anyway.

When you got home, he dragged you into your bedroom and sat down on his bed. Then, he bent you over his lap without another word.

“Count.”

His words left no room for argument, so you took a breath. Kyle’s hand came down hard on your ass. You gasped and writhed, but Kyle kept you firmly in place.

“One,” you said, voice shaking some.

“Good girl. Keep going.” Kyle said as he rubbed your ass before hitting again.

He got to fifteen. You were sobbing and trembling as you whimpered out the number.

“Shh, shh,” Kyle cooed as he soothingly rubbed your ass. “See? Good girl. You know why I had to do that, don’t you?”

His words were softly spoken and sweet. A direct contrast to the previous actions he’d made.

You sniffled and nodded. You did know. It’s why you’d been such a brat all day anyway - you wanted his attention. No matter what that meant.

“I don’t really know that you’ve really learned anything though,” Kyle clicked his tongue. “For all I know, you’ll just do this again the minute I stop touching you.”

His hand snaked down the curve of your ass and between your delicate folds, fingers probing at your cunt. He dipped two fingers inside you and began to gently rub them against your spot. His fingers were long, nimble, and they felt fucking fantastic.

Fantastic to the point that you whimpered when he pulled his fingers out of you, coated in your juices. You moaned as you watched him suck his fingers clean.

And then, he pulled you off his lap and onto the bed. He pulled his own pants down and lined himself up with your entrance.

“Stay fuckin’ still, alright?” Kyle cursed as he pushed into you. Even through your lusty haze, you could tell he was still irritated with you for your brattiness.

You let out a broken moan as he pushed into you slowly, then began rocking his hips into you.

“God, you’re so tight,” Kyle groaned, “you’d be so perfect if you weren’t such a little brat.”

You whined softly as Kyle used your body, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“God, See?” Kyle panted. “You can be such a good girl, yeah? All tight and wet. Just for me, huh, princess?”

You moaned at his words and nodded swiftly. “Jus’ for you,” You managed to say between moans, feeling your walls starting to flutter.

Kyle shook his head and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. “Don’t,” he whispered his warning. “Not ‘til I say you can. I don’t think you’ve earned it yet.”

You whine desperately, but you nodded. And Kyle grinned, knowing he’d forced you back into submission. Back into his sweet, darling little angel that would listen to every word that fell from his lips.

You were so tense with the effort of trying to hold back your orgasm, you genuinely thought you might explode into teeny tiny little pieces.

And Kyle’s movements became more desperate and erratic.

If you were able to think about anything other than keeping your pleasure at bay, you would have known that Kyle was close. You would have known that he was moments away from painting your inner walls a milky white.

Kyle pushed his lips against your ear, his breath warm against your skin. They graze your skin, sending shivers up and down your spine, and you swore he was trying to kill you with the way he nipped at you.

“Sweetheart,” Kyle breathed. You could feel him grinning against your ear, and you felt like you were going insane with need and desperation. “I think you’ve earned it. Don’t you? You’re being so good and sweet for me.” 

You gasped, but you still held off. Waiting for Kyle to actually say the words.

And say them, he did. 

“Cum for me,” He nipped at your earlobe. “Come on, princess. Cum for me. You’ve earned it. Come on, baby.”

You swore to whatever god might fucking be out there, you blacked out.

Your orgasm was intense. You dragged your nails down Kyle’s back, sure to leave bright red marks for at least a few days. You practically screamed, chanting his name like it was a prayer to the only thing that mattered in that moment: him.

As your hole fluttered and clenched around him, it milked Kyle’s orgasm out of him. He came inside you with a deep groan, and he wrapped his arms around your torso, yanking you closer as he pulsed, filling you up with hot and sticky cum.

You both laid like that for a few minutes, catching your breath and coming back to yourselves.

Kyle pulled out of you with a groan and smiled as he cradled your cheeks in his hands.

“You are fucking perfect. C’mon, shower.”

With that, he gently grabbed your arms to help you to the bathroom.

[johannestevans]

The thing that's so funny about geralt and dandelion is that dandelion likes to straddle that man and go "why are you feeling sorry for yourself?"

And geralt, feeling sorry for himself, is like "I'm NOT feeling sorry for myself!"

And then dandelion sucks him off ♥️

I love how nenneke is like "i don't know why you're friends with him, you have nothing in common" and then seconds later geralt and dandelion are bonding over how they have similar taste in booze and studies

The thing about geralt that's funny and tragic in turn is that he's got so many scruples even though he tries so hard to be neutral and hard the way he was taught and obviously he feels very deeply

And a lot of the time he's actually surprisingly straightforward about the beauty or hope he sees in the world? People get distracted by how grumpy he seems or how flat and disaffected his face and voice seem

But he TELLS people a lot of this outright

He wants to kiss yennefer in front of everyone at the party. He turns into pretty women and admires fine clothing even though he doesn't want to wear it. He loves his horse and he loves food and drink and he loves good company - and despite his cynicism he carries hope in him

And he doesn't actually hide that from most people… EXCEPT dandelion. Dandelion he often puts on this pretense of being a lot grumpier than he is. Dandelion has to lecture him about learning about the world or seeing the beauty in it even tho geralt normally DOES that

and the reason is twofold

Partly is because geralt enjoys dandelion making a fool of himself trying to teach geralt things and getting corrected by passers by

But also like. If they were BOTH sincere, it would get Too Intense Very Quickly

And i think it's delightful that like. People have this idea of dandelion as extremely fake because he's a fop or because he talks a lot or because he's obsessed with himself, but he genuinely is tremendously sincere - he genuinely does love everything, especially himself

But with geralt dandelion is at his MOST cynical, because it's not really a performance of a particular act, it's more a specific performance of his own personality for someone who knows and loves him well, rather than performing songs or stories or bardic tradition

And in contrast, geralt, who is generally a quite straightforward and honestly emotive man - albeit in the (cough autistic cough) Mutant way he is, abstracts a lot of his feelings and feigns more ignorance and cynicism than he has in dandelion's company

With yen geralt is honestly agonisingly sincere in a way that yen often has no idea what to do with, and the tragedy w them both is that they both feel with such immensity that both of them struggle to put the depth of their feelings for one another into words

It's not that his intimacy with dandelion is free of that struggle, but like. Yen strips right through his attempts to play it cool, whereas dandelion normally plays into them.

And thats why their threesomes are so good

[tanadrin]

Was there anything actually juicy in Clinton's emails? The media behavior reads like half an attempt to appear more principled b/c of the criticism they got in 2016, and half an attempt to swing the election for Trump because he's better for their business.

not super juicy. i do think there's a differential in how the media covers trump vs other candidates (even other republicans) bc he's so bizarre and they don't know how to handle them, but i don't think it's as calculated as "he's better for their business"

you have to remember that conservatives have spend decades screaming about how the media is unfair to them and biased in favor of liberals and bc media figures want to be the important biased neutral arbiters of democracy (bc that is how they perceive themseves) and they want to try to preserve access to political figures, they have spent a lot of time and effort trying to perform neutrality. this doesn't work of course--there's a reason why the right eventually spawned its own media ecosystem; no amount of bending over backwards to both-sides issues like global warming will appease basically dishonest actors--but it has produced this weird asymmetry where they report on trump like he's a much more normal candidate than he is, reported on his administration like it was a much more coherent realization of policy goals than it was, and sane wash a lot of statements that are either simply incoherent or are menacing and deranged. and they reassure themselves that he can't possibly mean the menacing and deranged things, or that if he does he won't be able to realize them, and after all wasn't the first trump term pretty OK after all?

obviously, i think this is a mistake--the first time around trump was impeded by his own incompetence and that of the people under him, and the fact that, not really knowing what to expect, some actually sane people ended up attached to his administration. i don't think that's likely to be quite the same in a second go-round. but normalcy bias is powerful. it affects a lot of people who aren't journalists, too. and even if you think he isn't likely to succeed, i think the responsible way to report on someone declaring that they are going to attempt to deport millions and seize direct control of major cities and shut down media outlets that offend them is to report that they intend to sdeport millions and seize direct control of major cities and shut down media outlets that offend them, not to try to interpret their pronouncements through the lens of anodyne "economic policy" or w/e. if the flagship outlets of media were really making a rational risk-benefit calculation on whether a second trump term would be good for them, they would be much more strenuously opposing him, because he has promised a scorched-earth campaign of revenge against them, you know?

but actually a lot of the dysfunction of american political coverage is the result of a social incentive structure that's been slowly emerging for more than forty years, driven in part by the incestuousness of the beltway media-political environment and the self-conception and ego of media figures. honestly i think it started as the conspiratorial right moved into mainstream conservative and republican politics in the last three decades of the 20th century. in order for that conspiratorial attitude to really take hold, you had to creative a social structure that isolated people from the broader political consensus, to get them to stop trusting shared sources of authority and information, and that resulted in sustained attacks against the supposed flagrant bias of american news media as a whole, and this process accelerated as distinct right-wing outlets like fox were established. but it was a frog-in-the-pot situation, and many republican politicians were willing to take on this new style of rhetoric that seemed to win votes (and no doubt many believed it to some extent, since it flattered their preconceptions).

but eventually the break became too great--birtherism, the tea party, qanon. mainstream republican politicians realized they'd called up something they couldn't put down; but it was too late to right the ship. trump is the avatar of all that conspiracism and rage, and he took over the republican party. but the tectonic social forces that produced him have been slow and kind of indirect, and a lot of people are still coasting on attitudes and approaches to politics that are ten, twenty, thirty years out of date.

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter Map Twenty-Seven

TW: medical stuff, talk of dying, nsfw

The next time you go to see Detective Washington Linda is there. She’s always there, bless, and you think that maybe she could use a change of scenery. “Would you like to get a coffee with me?”

She blinks up at you, as though the thought of being anywhere but by her husband’s side never even occurred to her. You sympathize, maybe even more now than a few days ago. You know that if Tom was in that bed…you would be losing your fucking mind. You try not to think about how real a possibility it could be, with the dangers of Tom’s job. Of how it could be not if, but when.

You need caffeine.

You go to the little café, Linda following a step behind you. You order a super sweet frappe drink that barely masquerades as coffee. She gets a latte.

“So…how is he doing?”

“Better,” she answers, looking into the frothed milk atop her coffee. “Stable, now, thank god. But…when he wakes up, we’re still going to have a long road ahead of us.”

“Yeah,” you acknowledge, understanding all too well. “But he’s strong. And you are too. I can tell. You’re going to make it.”

“We were going to leave LA, you know? That money they found in the car? We sold our house. We were going to start over in the Bahamas.”

“Well, maybe you can still do that? After he recovers? I’ve seen people recover from gunshots really well.” You hope you’re soothing her, instead of breaking her psyche down even more, but in truth you’ve never really thought you were good at this human connection stuff. 

Linda gives you the tiniest of smiles, and it warms you up more than the steaming cup in her hands. “You could be doing anything with your break…Why are you coming to see me?” 

“I don’t take breaks,” you say, leaning over with a smile like this is top secret highschool drama stuff. “Well, not usually.” 

She laughs in a huff. “Well, thank you.”

“I wanna be there for you,” you tell her truthfully, toying with the plastic, icy cup in your hands. “I think you could use a friend if I’m not mistaken?” 

“You’re right,” she nods, looking down into her own brew. “Although I’m sensing you need the company, too? After all, the only person I’ve seen you around here with is Ludlow.” 

Oh….Oh. 

Yeah, you suppose it makes sense that everyone knows by now. Tom is a little hard to miss, and you’ve been pinned to his side since the grocery store shootout. Every piece of you wants to defend him again—from the venomous way Linda says his name—dust off his badge and put him on the pedestal he deserves, but this isn’t about Tom…or you right now. “I’m… sorry,” you say, unsure of what else to provide. You bow to her grief, her anger, her pain, because sometimes that’s just what you have to do.

“Can you just tell me something?” She asks, her sorrow suddenly forefront.

“Of course, anything.”

“Tom…didn’t try and hurt him? Did he? He didn’t help the shooters?”

“Linda… No. Jesus, no. Tom, he…” you rub a hand over your face, forgetting that you’re wearing mascara to work because you feel this new sense of pride and confidence and beauty thanks to the subject of your current conversation. “He tried to help him, just like me. He did what he could. I swear to you.”

“And if he didn’t? Would you still be with him?”

For some reason, and it’s a reason you’ll have to do some soul searching about later on, you hesitate to answer that question. Because you’re not sure. Not sure if you would have blacklisted Ludlow for being involved with Washington’s near death, or comforted him about it—“you did what you had to.”

It’s scary, to give all of yourself when you…fuck it, when you love someone. Push morals and decencies and laws aside for a person. Lose yourself trying to justify their behaviors. You’ve been here, what? A dozen times? With friends, family, lovers. Thinking that if you could just see something in them, some redeemable quality, maybe that would erase all their copious horrible ones. 

So, would you? Defend Tom if he had tried to kill Linda’s husband? You answer with what you truly believe: 

“He wouldn’t. Maybe he would try and fight him. Break something, even. But he wouldn’t kill him, Linda. I know he wouldn’t.” 

She appraises you with something in her eyes that resembles trust, and it makes you wonder what you did to deserve it. “I believe you,” she says, confirming your suspicions about her expression. 

“Look. I know…our boys have had their differences. I know I don’t know the details. What I do know, is that Tom is determined to find the guys who shot your husband. He’s…all in on that.”

You’re surprised when Linda frowns at hearing this. “And what does the almighty Captain Wander think about that?”

Now you’re frowning too, because her skepticism maybe puts some things into perspective for you. You remember what Tom told you, about going around the official channels to get things done. “Honestly? I’m not sure it’s official. I just know Tom is on it like a missile. He’s not going to give up.”

Linda sighs, looking down into her coffee. “There’s a part of me that just wants to sweep all this under the rug and start over. But the other part of me?” She looks up at you, a fierce fire in her honey-brown eyes that makes you feel like you just stumbled on a lioness on the prowl. “The other part of me hopes Ludlow kills them all.” 

***

It’s a long, hard day. The weather is getting colder, although it’s hard to call outside cold right now, especially considering where you’re from, but dropping temps, no matter how insignificant Kansians think they may be, still come with colds and sepsis and lung troubles, even here in sweltering LA. 

It’s easier to get through the shift, though, because you’ve made a new friend, and she’s pretty damn cool. Linda is fierce, loyal, beautiful; you would envy her if it wasn’t for admiration getting in the way. Even better, you just seem to click with her so naturally, the vibes between you are immaculate—you feel like you’ve known her your whole life, and that’s really rare to have with someone. 

You chart with a smile for once, because you really hate charting more than anything else on God’s green earth, but take a pause when your phone vibrates in your pocket. 

Hey, baby, am I still picking you up at 1930, or you gonna be late? 

Your smile sharpens and spreads, warmth flaring up your bones like freshly plugged Christmas lights, at Tom’s message.

I can do seven thirty if you stop distracting me.

But I miss you :(

Oh my god. Now you’re blushing and giggling.

C’mon, you know you’ve been thinking about me all day.

Nope. Forgot your name, actually. Who is this, anyway? 

I think it’s time we give you that spanking.

I can take the bus home….

You know I will stop that bus with my lights and sirens on. 

Fuck u, handsome.

Maybe after I turn that little ass red. 

You roll your eyes, scoffing just as hard as clenching. This man is going to kill you. He’s so goddamn sexy it should be illegal. And he’s making all your dirty little fantasies come true while simultaneously making your heart melt. You shove your phone back into your pocket, determined to go back to work so you can actually get out at the time you’re supposed to, but it vibrates again. 

I’m very serious about pulling that bus over. Don’t even try it. 

Yes, officer. 

Good girl. 

What a dick. You’re absolutely head over heels for him. Asshole.

How the hell are you going to betray his trust and let Julian have his way with you? How are you not going to feel crippling guilt every time you look into those coffee brown eyes? How. Furthermore, is Julian going to want to keep doing this with you? Training you like you’re some sideshow pony? You grimace at the thought. 

It’s wonderful, how when you see Tom all those bad feelings seem to go away—especially since he picks you up in full uniform, those delicious glinting handcuffs strung proud to his belt. You bite your lip when you see him, and he kisses the sting away. 

“Working late?” You ask, shimmying your thumbs into his belt loops and pulling him closer. It’s been long, hard hours without him, and you missed him more than you want to admit. 

He presses you up against the wall, just like you want, and tucks stray, wild hairs behind your ears. “Had a residential disturbance,” he says, “let me make you dinner.” It’s beautiful, how such mundane things sound so sinfully promising through his voice. 

“You are dinner, Officer Ludlow.” Because God, you really have just been aching to lean into this cops and robbers fantasy that he started on that dark highway. All you’ve been able to think about is getting on your knees and undoing this uniform and sucking him empty.  

Fuck Julian, and your job, and everything else when he kisses you with a growl, hands cupping the back of your head and threading through your hair so he can get you closer. He either really likes this feral beast you’ve become, or really doesn’t like it judging by this lip splitting dance of tongue and teeth that leaves you gasping for breath. “Careful, baby, might have to lock you up and keep you all to myself.” 

You do love the sound of that. 

***

You ask Tom to take you somewhere…somewhere high and airy where you can look down on the city of Angels. The city you both protect, with shining colorful lights that fight valiantly against the dark night. Tom holds you in his arms, chin on your head, and you don’t mind that all the shiny bobbles on his uniform poke at you. You feel so safe, right here, even though you’re alone in the woodsy hills of LA, and it’s because he has you securely tucked between his biceps. 

“Something’s going on with you,” he says, kissing the top of your head. “I can tell, you know that?” 

The fine hairs along your spine lift, and you hide your face in his arm, trying with all your might not to start crying like a baby. 

“I’m just scared, of those guys trying to get rid of me…” it’s not a total lie, although it, surprisingly, between Julian’s clutches and Tom’s freedom, is the least of your worries. 

He pulls you closer. “Listen, baby, I’m gonna protect you. I know you’re not used to that, to someone having your back, but I do. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere…not even if you want me too.” 

You chuckle. “Yeah, I know.” 

“I think I should probably ask you out properly, but I’ve been a little nervous.”

Your chuckle turns to confused laughter, and you look up at his sheepish smile. “The unbreakable Tom Ludlow, nervous?” 

“Yeah, that you’re gonna tell me to go pound salt…again.” He tries to smile his way out of that statement, but his eyes droop and the corners of his mouth twitch with the effort of nonchalance. And you are a fucking asshole for trusting Julian and snubbing Tom—that’s all you really know for sure. 

“Will you go out with me?” 

His grin turns authentic, and it scares you how much lighter you feel now that he’s genuinely happy again. 

“Yeah,” he agrees on the soft crown of your hair.

[literary-motif]

Since you’ve already done The earis humiliating Zaros could you do zaros humiliating the earis? I hope this isn’t too much to ask for! 🥹

Tables Turned

Zaros Atha'lin x Reader

“Mind if I join you?” Zaros asked, not waiting for a reply as he slid into the seat before you. A few strands of his long blond hair loosened from where he’d tied them back, falling into his face. He tucked them behind his ear elegantly, flashing you a sly smile.

You glared at him. “Do you truly want to grace me with your company when your mother is sitting over there, all alone?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him and taking another mouthful of your food.

Your daily schedule was packed already — the trials and the necessary preparations took up most of your hours awake — and lunchtime was perhaps the only time you could enjoy the quiet and be alone with your thoughts. 

The other nobles did not tend to bother you. Seeing the Earis sitting alone at their table, while Queen Roena ate in the front, overlooking the dining hall, had never stirred them to seek out your company. 

Zaros was an exception, of course. He was in so many things.

“She will manage,” he said, his lips twisting into his signature grin that reeked of a feeling of superiority. It made your blood boil, but you were damned if you let Zaros ruin the little peacefulness you had or spoil the delicious taste of the food in your mouth. 

“What do you want?”

“My Earis,” he said, dragging his fork through the food on his plate. He did not seem to like it much. Zaros always had a particular taste. It made you recall an instance where you had to sneak into the kitchen with precise instructions for a meal you had meticulously composed for him. “Is it so hard to imagine I simply crave the pleasure of your company?”

You did not grace him with a reply. His words were dripping with sarcasm. You ignored him, drowning out his triumphant smirk at your lack of retort and instead focusing on your lunch. 

The cook outdid herself once again. The flavors mixed beautifully, and you closed your eyes to savor the taste. 

The clinking of cutlery snapped you out of your trance. Zaros had set down his fork. The smile had faded from his lips, replaced with a tight-lipped look of disapproval. His brows were furrowed, and you were not sure if you saw distaste or rage twinkle in his eyes. 

You wondered faintly if the food truly could have upset him this much.

“I had a conversation today that made my head spin,” he said, resting his elbows on the table and raising his eyes to bore into you. 

He leaned forward, his gaze hardening. For a moment you feared he would take your plate and smash it to the ground. He reached for the wine instead, pouring himself a generous amount before asking you wordlessly if he should pour you some as well. You declined. He downed half the glass. 

“A— a little birdie told me something very interesting. Can you imagine what it was? I’ll give you three little hints,” he spat, gripping the glass until his knuckles turned white. “Ready? It’s got something to do with you, the Queen, and the trials. Does anything come to mind, my Earis?”

You froze with the fork raised midway up to your mouth. How did he know? Who told him you cheated in the trials?

You blinked, continuing to eat. That was not true. It was not! Technically, it was your mother. Technically, she did not leave you a choice when she told you about having won the first trial. It should not matter anyway, it did not impact the following ones — although you suspected your mother might bend the rules until they broke for giving you a headstart. 

You had not cheated. You had not! Zaros was a sore loser, evidently. This is why he was bringing this up, ruining a perfectly peaceful lunch.

“Do you not have anything to say for yourself?”

“What do you want from me?” you asked dismissively, eyeing Zaros pouring himself another glass of wine in contempt. He looked furious enough to drink himself into a stupor. “You should really go easy on the sweet wi—”

His eyes flashed with a wrath you had never seen before. You expected him to slam his glass on the table, but he set it down gently instead, keeping up his crumbling facade of calmness. 

“You scheming, lying traitor,” he growled low enough only for you to hear. “Time and time again she told me ‘the Ilves will never play fair’ and time and time again I told her they would — you would — because I thought that somewhere within you there was a speck of dignity and honor left. Do you know how much it hurts being proven wrong about someone you thought you knew! This is all the proof I need to know that the person I once lo— knew is gone, and only this— this spoiled palace brat sitting before me remains in their stead.”

It took all the self-control you had not to leap to your feet in anger. Your hold on the fork tightened, your jaw clenched, and the dark look in Zaro’s eyes could not rival the storm brewing in yours. 

He had ruined a perfectly peaceful meal.

“Do not talk to me like this,” you said, keeping a tight hold on your emotions and breathing, breathing — breathe, Earis. 

Take a deep breath when you get angry. Yes, just like this. Try to take your mind off the situation and just breathe. Close your eyes if you need to. Very good. Now breathe in. One. Two. Three. Four. Hold. One. Two. Three. Four. Breathe out. One. Two. Three. Four. Repeat. 

“You’re a husk of a person,” he continued, cutting through the voice you heard when the anger got overwhelming. Zaros was fueling the fire, and the gleam in his eyes — the one he always got when he knew he was pushing you to your limits — was proof enough that he was doing it on purpose. 

You did not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you snap. 

“Serulla deserves better than you — better than you and your manipulative mother, abusing her power to give her brat an advantage you don’t deserve. You have never deserved all of your privileges — all the respect your name commanded because people feared displeasing your mother. I wonder if they would feel the same way if they knew Roenna was just as much a despicable person as her child is!”

Earis! No, Earis, listen. Breathe. Breathe! One. Two—

“Get her name out of your mouth!” you screamed, springing to your feet with enough force to knock your chair back. It tumbled to the ground, echoing loudly in the dining hall. Conversations stopped, and you were surrounded by eerie silence as every pair of eyes was trained on you.

Zaros leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine in his glass. He looked shocked, but you knew that was simply the facade he put up for your newfound audience. There was contentment in his eyes, the same kind of twisted satisfaction at revenge justly served you had spotted in your own gaze on many occasions. 

“Why, Earis,” he said calmly, keeping his eyes fixed on you as he continued the little show he had pulled you into. There was no need for him to speak up, his voice could be heard clearly in every corner of the large dining room. “If I knew you were so hot-headed, I never would have agreed to discuss this with you. It does make me wonder how you’d do in negotiations with the other kingdoms, though. I suppose storming out in a rage would not do well for Serulla.” 

A hollowness swam in your chest, dousing the rage boiling inside you and replacing it with the icy certainty that Zaros had manipulated you. It should not hurt as much as it did, given that you were both contesting for the same throne, literally fighting against each other in trials. 

Still, he was your oldest friend. 

Still, he had exploited the weakness you struggled with most to humiliate you in front of the nobles. 

You cleared your throat, straightening your back to look more composed and salvage what you could of the mess he had dragged you into. “Apologies everyone,” you said, keeping your voice light, and head high. Elegantly, you bent down to pick up the chair, dragging it across the floor to put it neatly back in its place in front of the table. “Please, resume your meals. Excuse me.” 

You did not spear Zaros another glance as you walked out of the dining hall. But you turned your head and caught your mother’s gaze as you left. Seeing the bitter disappointment in her eyes made your stomach twist, ice running through your veins at the reality of what had just happened. 

Winning the trials would be a whole lot harder than you anticipated. 

[menlove]

do you have any girl!mclennon hcs? like how they'd do their hair, how they'd dress, their relationship etc etc

LESBIAN MCLENNON I LOVE YOUUUUU. have a dump. i think about them constantly.

in my mind (at least when they're younger), paul would look like shauna shipman (the character not the actress bc the actress is blonde w blue eyes lmfao) while john i could see being played by rachel sennott

i think i've mentioned this before but paul's first name is definitely mary. pauline is probably her middle name and she just goes by paul. john's harder i've given this thought before but never landed on one, but she still goes by john bc i say so

paul before meeting john is definitely trying to fit into the mold of nice 50s teenage girl- hoop skirts, ponytails, cardigans. when she starts getting more into rock she WANTS to dress differently but doesn't until john talks her into it and then it's leather jackets and drainies still. john just never conformed she wouldn't give a fuck about it

they'd both be in really interesting situations! because paul here is the Oldest Girl after her mom died. so moreso than in real life, the brunt of expectation & household management would get shoved on her, especially with jim out gambling and drinking. similarly, mimi would be driven to insanity with john because she's nowhere NEAR how she thinks she should be and she also sort of sees her as julia 2.0 and she's petrified for her

i think they're probably a lot more physically affectionate bc how casual homophobia between women manifests vs w men is very different, so they're allowed to sort of hang off each other as long as it doesn't Get Weird. and it does certainly get weird with them, they get called dykes more than a few times

i think paul would more readily accept being asked to wear makeup and dress proper again by brian (who is a semi-out lesbian here i can't take away the beautiful homoeroticism of brian & john's relationship) whereas john is gnashing her teeth and throwing the world's biggest fit about it. sometimes paul does her makeup for her though and that's alright.

they start to loosen up with it in '66 and get more androgynous and by pepper's era they're both THRIVING being able to dress androgynously. paul starts getting funky with her makeup around that era too and john just stops wearing it completely

john cuts her hair shorter around revolver era and paul follows suit because they're Mirrors. paul has a twiggy thing going on.

paul also grows her hair out again in the worst most untamed Mess you've ever seen around get back era.

i've had this thought that they've fooled around a bit and john's out in an open industry secret sort of way like. girls would still throw themselves at the girl!beatles i feel this in my soul and i think george and john would be out getting pussy while paul WANTS to be out getting pussy but is holding herself back. but john will Not fuck her like she fucks other girls because this would tip whatever they're doing into Romantic territory like she KNOWS it would be different with paul and this pisses paul off to no end.

of course they DO end up fucking at some point and this makes things worse for everyone involved

paul has a boyfriend who she keeps getting on and off again engaged to (peter asher maybe lmfaoooo in which case... she is lowkey also still fucking jane on the side) and john hates him so so so so bad she wants that man dead and she makes it obvious

yoko is still a woman and her and john do political lesbianism (yoko's straight, john isn't, this is as much as a disaster as anyone would expect it to be) and paul is climbing the fucking WALLS out of how mad the whole thing makes her because it's not HER that john's being openly gay with. not that she'd want to be! but it's the fact that SHE was never ASKED!

linda is also still a woman and this also makes john madder than anyone's ever been because what do you mean paul has been into women romantically this entire time and now she's having a not-so-secret affair with an american photographer and moving to fucking scotland with her? she's losing it.

[yeonbinwyd]

you’re worth it

pairing: subfem!reader x softdom/top!Soobin x softdom/bottom! Yeonjun

synopsis: you’re close friends with Yeonjun and Soobin but what people don’t understand is the three of you are much closer than most people think.

genre (w/tags): smut, (minors dni), kinky sex, body exploration,explicit language, threesome, mentions of alcohol, size kink, mastubation , voyeurism?, breeding kink?

Word Count: 1287

It was like a dream. You had lived with both your closests friends. They honestly would take care of you, cook your meals and would clean. Most importantly they would really take care of you.

“What do you want to eat tonight? Yeonjun asked you from the kitchen. You had been lounging on the couch, enjoying the weekend.

“Hmm surprise me” you say with a smile. The two of you giggle. Soobin turns the corner with a turned off vacuum.

“Ok your room is cleaned. I’ll clean the bathroom next.” He wipes his forehead of the sweat.

“Take break for a bit and join us” Yeonjun suggests. He takes a seat beside you. Yeonjun sits on the other side, putting down the drinks he made for the three of you.

“Here’s to the weekend” you lift up your glass for a cheers. The two men join you in the small celebration. You all take a sip, enjoying the taste of the champagne Yeonjun bought.

“Ooh this tastes so good. I’m Impressed.” You compliment his choice.

“I know you taste even better.” Yeonjun says with a smirk. You shake your head. Soobin places his hand on your thigh. He’s always a bit territorial of you. Yeonjun notices.

“Don’t worry you’ll get your turn too.” Yeonjun teases Soobin. Soobin is also a but competitive but Yeonjun doesn’t take him seriously. Soobin takes another sip then wraps his arm around your waist. “Me first” he claims as he pulls you closer. Yeonjun doesn’t care and kisses you on the mouth. Soobin joins in by making kisses on your chest. You separate the two from you.

“Let’s start over. Nice and slow” you instruct. Soobin unwraps his hand leaning in to kiss your lips. Yeonjun does the same. As the three of you kiss, they both fight for control over you. Lips battling it out, you run your hands through their hair and down their necks. Them both taking turns kissing each side of your neck. You let your lips slide away to let the two fight for control. You watch as they passionately kiss each other not taking the moment to realize you’re gone but that was fine with you. Soobin catches a glance at you with a cheeky smile. He pulls away from Yeonjun and pulls you back in. Yeonjun shifts his focus on you and Soobin does the same. Yeonjun behind you this time while Soobin takes the front. Yeonjun starts by nibbling on your ear lobe down your neck. Soobin goes for your breasts, cupping them and giving them a squeeze. You moan a bit, throwing your head back. Yeonjun helps you take off your top while soobin does your panties. Once Soobin takes them off, he’s ready to dive in. Yeonjun spreads your legs, assisting him in getting a good view. Yeonjun’s hold was always secure so you knew they weren’t going to hold back. Soobin takes a lick on your clit, driving you wild. He flicks his thumb there so he can see your face in enjoyment.

“I love seeing you like this” Soobin moans in approval. Yeonjun nods with a giggle, still holding you tight. Soobin goes back down for more while Yeonjun kisses you on the mouth. Your lips locked with his, whining hard to Soobin’s oral. There was so much happening but you couldn’t get enough. Impaient, Soobin wants control. Your moan filled kisses weren’t enough for him. Before he could take over, Yeonjun decides to go first as he sees Soobin back away. Yeonjun shifts from sitting and stands the two of you up. While bending you forward, arching your back, Yeonjun takes a look at your cunt from behind.

“It looks so good every time I see it.” He says while spreading your lips. Soobin comes behind and takes a look as well. Soobin starts to rub his length but he didn’t want to take it out yet. Yeonjun wanted first dibs, in one fast move, he took off his sweats to let out his hard on. Covered in pre cum, he plunges in. You yell at the sudden movement but Yeonjun leaned over you to rub your clit.

“I’m sorry baby I couldn’t wait” he coos. He uses fingers to rub more aggressively as he picks up his stroke momentum. Soobin takes a seat, watching Yeonjun plow into you. He can’t help but be turned on too. Soobin takes out his length, jerking off to the two of you. Yeonjun sees him and pulls you over to him by your hips. The two of you get on your knees, giving you access to Soobin.

“Suck on him baby” Yeonjun instructs. Soobin stands to his feet. You grab his thighs for support. You take him in your mouth very slowly. That’s how he liked it. Soobin was pretty big too. You knew to take it slow. You moan on his dick from the strokes from Yeonjun. It sends shivers up Soobin’s spine. The three of you in pure ecstasy. Yeonjun not letting up, causing you to not give Soobin the most attention he deserves. He’s s ok with it though. He wants to ruin you during his round.

Yeonjun is close, he pulls you away from Soobin to grip your neck from behind. Yeonjun makes eye contact with Soobin before closing his eyes.

“I’m so close baby” he rubs your clit and thrusts into you so rapidly you start to cum. He pulls out and cums on your ass. You tire out and manage to land on the floor beside the two. You needing a quick break, Yeonjun locks eyes with Soobin again. Yeonjun gets down on his knees before him, taking in his length in his mouth. Soobin groans deeply as he swallows him whole. Yeonjun tries to keep his eye contact but as he takes him in, Yeonjun chokes a bit. His eyes begin to weld up but won’t give up. Soobin grabs his face.

“C’mon you can take it” Soobin encourages. He starts thrusting in his mouth, causing the tears to roll down his cheeks. You cleaned up a bit and managed to get back for round two with Soobin. Yeonjun is thankful, releasing his member. Soobin sees you, takes a seat back down. He opened his arms very welcoming. His penis standing up tall, waiting for you. You straddle him, slowly going down on him. He closes his eyes tight at just this feeling alone. He held you close, entangling his arms around your waist. He didn’t even care about any movement, the warmth from your pussy was enough for him. You start to ride him, slamming your body on him.

“Just like that. Uhh I can’t get enough” he compliments. As you pick up the pace he feels you squeezing around him.

“Please don’t do that though. You’ll make me cum” he cries out. You don’t listen and purposely squeeze tighter. Eyes rolled back, he feels the inner animal take control. He lifts you, switching you into the lounge chair. Soobin now in control starts thrusting aggressively into you.

“You want me to cum? Fine I’m cumming in you” he growls, holding your legs in place around him. He’s deeper than ever before. Something came over him. Honestly Yeonjun was shocked too. Soobin roughly kisses you as his thrusts are bulging out of your stomach. Breath taken away, you’re unable to moan. Wave after wave of pleasure comes over you. He parts from your lips and cries out in a moan so loud, your neighbors are hearing it. He cums deep inside of you, leaving you speechless. The three of you look at each other in disbelief. You not walking in a couple of days.

[nyankochan]

Lazy Sunday

Synopsis: you and Rogue have a mission to do. But he isn’t in too much of a hurry to get out of bed.

Content: Rogue x fem!bodied reader, lazy sex, penetration, unprotected, soft sex, dry humping, I hope I didn’t forget anything but I’m sorry if I did!

W/C: 1K

A/n: rewatching the Grand Magic Games arc reminded me how obsessed I was with this man

As the sun peeks through the curtains, the light makes Rogue stir, his eyebrows furrowing in annoyance. He turns on his side, facing away from the window, in hopes that sleep would reclaim him for a few extra minutes. Sleepily, the dragon slayer feels around the bed before finding what he’s looking for, wrapping his arms around your midsection, and pulling you back against his bare chest.

You groan a bit in your sleep, shifting around to face him so that you could nuzzle against his neck, your legs intertwining together with the messy sheets. Rogue’s scent leaves you content and cozy. He always smells good to begin with.

“What time is it?” Rogue mumbles, his voice sounding husky and deeper than usual from the drowsiness. He presses lazy kisses across your cheek and jaw, oddly clingy yet very gentle in the way he touches you.

“Dunno,” you say sleepily. “But we should get up and moving. We’re supposed to meet Sting for a job, remember?”

“He can wait.” Rogue peppers kisses on your lips. “Just five more minutes in bed. I wanna hold you a bit longer.” Intentionally or not, you press against his crotch making him grunt. While in such a drowsy state, he didn’t really notice his morning wood. Normally, he’d ignore it, but your touch made it difficult to do so.

“You want some help with that, Ro?” You teasingly ask, pressing a kiss against his throat. Rogue swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His hands rest against your hips, his thumb tracing circles on your skin.

“It’ll go away on its own in a bit-“ Rogue’s eyebrows furrow, breath hitching as you rub against him harder. The friction rubbing against his dick was both pleasurable and maddening. His hips stutter involuntarily, bucking against yours to find more relief. “You’re such a t-tease.”

“But you still love me anyway.” You continue to grind against him, trying to soothe the ache between your legs. Your quiet moans and needy whimpers sound heavenly to Rogue’s ears. Despite his prior drowsiness, his dragon-like instincts nag at him to please you.

Rogue grabs the waistband of your pajama shorts, pulling them down to your ankles along with your panties. His hand sneaks between your legs to cup your dripping sex. You shiver as he traces your folds, collecting your arousal on the tip of his finger. As he brushes over your clit, you can’t help but whimper.

“How do you want me?” Rogue mumbles, nipping at the shell of your ear.

“B-behind, please,” you shakily exhale. He turns you over, pulling you against his chest. The bulge of his erection presses against your ass, feeling harder than it was a moment ago. The fabric of his pajama pants feels a bit wet.

Rogue slides his pants down his hips to free his aching cock. He honestly didn’t know how long he’d actually last. So much pre cum had dripped from the leaky tip that he fisted himself a few times to spread it across his dick for lubricant.

“Spread your legs open a little more for me,” Rogue grunted, nudging your legs apart with his knee. He holds one of your legs up and kisses the back of your neck while slowly pushing the head of his cock into your eager hole. Rogue lets out a low growl, breathing hard.

You moan out at the penetration. Rogue moves neither hard nor fast, so you feel every curve of his dick as he glides the last few inches past your fluttering walls. He pulls your leg back further. As you clench around him, Rogue has to will himself not to thrust into you.

“Are you okay?” Rogue breathlessly asks. He kisses at your shoulder blade. “Can I move?”

“Mhm please.”

With a languid roll of his hips, Rogue pulls his length from the clamp of your hole, and he fucks back into you long and slow, (much to your dismay), taking the time to relish the way you feel around his cock.

“F-faster, fuck-Rogue!” You keen, bucking your hips back to meet in tandem with his.

“Fuck…we couldn’t just have a lazy Sunday…,” Rogue grunts. “J-just wanted to stay in bed and…fuck…hold you.” With his weight, he pins you to the bed, caging you in with his arms. He ruts into you harder, teeth grazing the crevice of your neck. His fingers intertwine with yours. “Fuck you feel so good~”

“Y-you’re gonna make me cum,” you whine, trying to muffle your moans into the pillows. Rogue pulls it from underneath you, throwing it off the bed. He cups your chin, forcing you to turn your head so that he could capture your lips in a heated kiss. It’s sloppy and desperate, Rogue groaning against your mouth as he feels your walls convulse around him with each snap of his hips.

With his free hand, he circles your clit with his thumb, the stimulation of the sensitive nerves ultimately pushing you over the edge. You bite down on Rogue’s lip, making him hiss. Tingles raced through your veins, rocking your entire body.

"F-fuck, I'm close!" Rogue pants. With his own high was reaching, his thrusts became less rhythmic and more sloppy, low grunts and moans leaving his lips. When he does cum, he comes with a low groan. His body rocks and he collapses on top of you, burrying his head into the crook of your neck.

There's silence between the two of your for a few moments as you both recover from your orgasms. Suddenly, there’s a loud banging on the door followed by the doorbell blaring repeatedly to the point you thought it would break.

“Rogue you bastard!” You could hear Sting’s angry yell outside of the apartment. “We’re going to be late you jerk!”

“C-Calm down!” Yukino tries her best to coax him. “M-maybe they over slept.”

“Overslept my ass!”

You bite back a laugh as Rogue huffs in annoyance. “We should get ready.” But as you try to get up, Rogue wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you back into the sheets. “Rogue?!”

“Just one more minute,” he says, hiding his face in your chest like a little kid. “He can wait.”

[forwhump]

a/n; I have a whole truman show style day in the life thing I did w point that I was trying to find but there’s a lot of creepy weirdness to sort through first to find it & I found this one instead & I feel it’s particularly ugh so <3 couldn’t let it go to waste

enjoy some rambling point introspection :’)

tw/cw: rape, noncon, misgendering, transphobia, dehumanization, kidnapping, captivity, psychological torture, sexual exploitation, degradation, misogyny

creepy whumper, rapist pov, the ramblings of a madman, mentions of a living weapon

“I think I’m in love with you,” Point tells the naked, crying girl shackled in his bunk.

Her wrists are bleeding from how hard she had tried to fight to get them free. She isn’t fighting anymore; he’s tired her out. He likes her tired. She looks up at him with wide, wet eyes and her bare skin is so warm. Quietly, she hiccups, “there’s something really fuckin’ wrong with you.”

She’s got such a stupid accent. A real backwoods aw, shucks kind of accent. She tries to thin it out as much as possible but she hates him so much she can’t control it around him, sometimes, and he knows she hates that, too. He loves it. He loves the accent, too, even if it is stupid as all get out, even if his men make fun of him for it relentlessly. They’re all full of shit — they’d each jumped at the chance to ride the cowgirl, and they each jump, still.

She’s fuckin’ unreal in that lethal, Playboy bunny, girl next door kind of way. A real fantasy kind of way. Blonde bombshell, right? What man in their right mind doesn’t want to fuck a pretty blonde? First time Point had laid eyes on her, sitting on the floor of that trap house, he knew he was gonna keep her. She was special. She had a mouth like Princess Peach and Point could fit both hands around her waist. He was never gonna let her go. Couldn’t.

Then she spoke, and Point had been taken aback by the stupid accent, thick and unexpected, the backwater twang of banjos, denim overalls, and tooth gaps.

The milkmaid braids had been his idea, a branch of two separate, very good ideas. The first was to put her in her place; her accent was stupid, and it was embarrassing, and the hat and the boots just didn’t feel humiliating enough. The second was that she had already gotten under Point’s skin; she spoke, from the floor of that trap house, and he’d just as quickly started harbouring a fantasy of holding the farmer’s daughter by her sweet braids, tied off with ribbon, and fucking her face. Vineyard, the creative bastard, had supplied the milkmaid dress — his niece was twelve, and it had been a Halloween costume. Wren’s a tall girl, long legged, and the dress never fit her, not properly, but it never needed to. They made her wear it for a long time, anyway.

Point has an inkling that might’ve been where his thing for the accent had blossomed, but it’s hard to say. “Oh, darlin’,” he croons, and he’s mocking her. He does it a lot, and doesn’t always do it on purpose but most of the time he does — it makes her flush, and he likes her flushed.

He likes her a lot of ways, really. Tired, flushed. He likes her when she’s crying and when she’s trying to fight him off. He likes her when she’s begging and when she’s sobbing so hard she can’t choke out words. He likes her when she’s barely conscious, all soft and wet and pliant. He likes her when she’s pretending to like him because she knows he’ll kill her dog if she doesn’t. He hasn’t had her in a way, yet, in fact, that he hasn’t liked her; he actually likes the girl in all ways. He doesn’t even like his wife in all ways. It’s why he thinks he might love her — it’s why he knows he does. How typical, right? The handsome jock and the hot blonde. Who could’ve predicted it?

She’s already flushed with crying but she flushes a little darker with humiliation and Point grins.

She definitely isn’t perfect — she gets a bit shrill, and her thing for the dog upsets Point so completely he can’t think about it too hard or he loses chunks of time. But her hair is pretty, and her mouth is pretty, and her cunt is always warm, and she really is beautiful, in that really rare, really impossible kind of way.

Point would keep her all to himself if he could, right here in his bunk. He’d stop applying for leave and she’d stop having to go back to that disgusting doghouse. He’d gotten close, once, but it didn’t last. And that’s not to say he’d stop letting his men use her, either — it’s everybody else. It’s that fuckin’ dog.

He stops grinning and spits in her face.

He doesn’t mean to, not really, but he looks down at her and he sees the way she looks at that thing. Point is being generous every time he calls it a dog, but chunk of meat is just too wordy. Is what it is, though, isn’t it? An ugly chunk of meat a couple of the military’s poindexters had reanimated. She doesn’t look at Point the same way she looks at that thing, and how is that fair? She does it on purpose, just to upset him. He knows she does.

She recoils and he grabs her by the jaw. Holds her still. “Open.” She struggles, trying to lean away, and he presses the back of her head harder into his mattress. “Open,” he demands, and she does on a sob and he spits again, into her mouth. She chokes and he hears himself tell her, “you’re disgusting.” She sobs again and he spits, “stop fucking the dog.”

“I’m not —“

“And stop fuckin’ lying to me,” he snaps.

That’s her worst thing. Worse than the whining, and the fact that she opens her legs for that thing — she’s a liar. She’s always lying.

But fuck, does it almost tie with the fact that she opens her legs for that thing. He hates to think about it but it’s hard not to equate it. Does she get just as wet for him? Does she make the same noises? It would probably make him hate her if he wasn’t in love with her.

“Why can’t you just be a good girl?” He asks, and he doesn’t mean to ask so sincerely. “Why do you have to be a whore?”

She looks up at him from beneath his hand with a hatred that radiates off her like heat. He’s willing to bet she never looks at the dog like that.

He’s also willing to bet the dog doesn’t know. It’s dumb, and he can’t see the girl telling it the truth. It had been wildly protective of her from pretty early into its placement, after however long it had taken the girl to manipulate it into wrapping itself around her little finger. Something about it makes her feel safer, more secure, even if it’s just a cute little lie she tells herself to sleep better sometimes. Even with the added guard dog, she’s still here with Point. She’s still been here with Point for hours.

He doesn’t care for the dog — he thinks it’s a hideous waste of meat and a disgusting fuckin’ science experiment — but he could probably feel bad for it if he let himself. The dog is just so dumb and it has no idea that its little girlfriend is a well fucked whore and if that if Point plays his cards just right he can get her to beg for his cock.

“You could be perfect,” he tells her.

She’s still crying — she’s usually crying — and she’s always doe eyed but when she cries it makes her eyes look a lot bigger and makes her look really scared and really pathetic. Point’s always thought she looks prettiest when she’s scared.

“I fuckin’ hate you,” she tells him, and she enunciates very carefully.

“Shucks,” he mocks, and grins when she flushes, predictably. Fuck, she’s pretty. If nothing else, she’s pretty. It’s almost enough to forget the stupid hillbilly accent and the fact that she fucks dogs.

He puts his hand on her thigh. She tries to flinch away but he holds her there, pressing bruises into her pale thigh in the shape of his fingertips. Vineyard bites her, fucks her up pretty bad sometimes, likes to mark her that way, but Point’s never cared much for biting. Point’s always liked to bruise.

He pushes her thighs apart and the way she trembles in his hands makes him smile. “Stop,” she begs, and the poor girl must be so tired but she makes a valiant attempt to fight him off, anyway. “Please. Please, no more.”

Point clicks his tongue as he settles between her legs. “You know you don’t get to decide when we’re done here, cowgirl,” he says. He holds her down against his sheets, standard issue — black, as opposed to the asset grey. Better thread count, too. The girl should be grateful, he thinks, that he prefers to fuck her here, on the best sheets in their chunk of the district, instead of the shitty sheets in the unit, instead of the concrete of any of the floors.

Point would love, in his wildest fantasies, to get her furlough and fuck her at home. His wife was in charge of the furnishing and all that, because why does he give a shit? But she knocked it out of the park with their sheets. The mattress, too. The whole bed is great, and Point would love to get the girl out of here and fuck her on it for days consecutive. He would love to ruin those sheets. But it would be sticky, ‘cause he’d have to get his wife and all four of the kids out of the house and to stay away from the house at the same time. The neighbourhood is affluent, but that annoying, gossipy sort of affluent that his wife finds so friendly but that makes Point sick and enraged. If he sent his wife and children on vacation, then showed up at the house, with or without a blonde considerably hotter and younger than his wife, they’d gossip. His wife would find out, at the very least, that he took leave and didn’t mention it to her, and that’s a can of worms he doesn’t think he wants to open. That’s the debate, at least.

But it’s an ongoing debate. Every time he’s eligible for leave again, he considers it. Sometimes, in his bunk with this girl, when her skin is especially warm and her cunt is especially wet, he thinks it would be worth it.

“I think I’m in love with you,” he tells her again.

She sobs.