#(my way of saying the pump action doesn't work

[leadendeath]

Dude nerf guns are so fucking cool. I don't think I'll ever grow out of my desire for them. Why do they have to be so awesome hebxhebd

YEAHHH YOU GET IT!!! all the awesomeness of guns without the scariness

i found one once. yeh. abandoned. all alone, sat by a river. took it in and uh, nursed it back to health..... that was a couple of years ago, let's say it's still a work in progress...

Just went in the garage for this 🤘

[zorosangell]

⛥ﾟ・。 bmf

synopsis: zoro doesn't take kindly to you being disrespected... at all.

cw: supposed to parallel piña colada, fluffy fluff, comfort, ZORO DOES NOT PLAY ABOUT YOU, protective zoro, decent amount of profanity in this one, zoro is mr. handle it.

a/n: I LOVE LANA SO MUCH I IMMEDIATELY THOUGHT OF ZORO WHEN I HEARD THIS SONG <3 i suggest you listen to it while reading for the full experience.

"This is insane!" a random onlooker exclaimed, hand gripping his hair in disbelief. "Are these guys even human?!"

His shouts of surprise were followed by howls of excitement from the other passerby, everyone packed tightly around your net and towels to get a glimpse of the action.

Originally, the boys had been taking on challengers in four-on-four volleyball matches, but when they kept kicking everyone's ass, they opted for two on two between themselves instead.

The current match was Sanji and Usopp vs. Zoro and Franky.

And the entire crowd was on the edge of their seats.

"C'mon, Sanji! Get your head in the game!" Nami exclaimed, slightly tipsy, as she gripped onto her wad of cash. "If you lose this, I'm out thirty thousand berries!"

"Yes, Nami-Swan! Your wish is my command!" the lovesick cook squealed, completely stopping what he was doing to gawk at her, his eyes turning heart-shaped.

With a smirk, Zoro took the opportunity to launch himself in the air, meeting Franky's set perfectly and spiking the ball into the sand with a deafening slam, the force creating a small crater.

"Yes! Good job, Zo'!" you cheered, pumping your free fist in the air while the other held your swordsman's sake.

"SANJI!" Nami growled, furious.

With a small chuckle, Robin glanced up from her book, eyes carefully examining the navigator's puffed cheeks and childish pout.

'Adorable...'

"Nami, this is supposed to be a vacation..." you snickered, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Why don't you relax?"

"I would be relaxed if I was making money!" she huffed, crossing her arms over his chest. "I ask him to do one thing, and he can't even do that!"

"This is for the win! One last rally!" Chopper announced, happily jumping atop his lifeguard chair.

"C'mon, Sanji, you gotta help me on this!" Usopp exclaimed as he grabbed the cook by his shoulders, attempting to shake him out of it. "There's no way I'm stopping them if they pull that move again!"

"Nice work, bro!" Franky commended, giving your moss-haired swordsman a high-five as he approached the service line, ball in hand.

"Thanks," he nodded, a cocky smirk settling on his lips as he turned to face the net. "Now, let's finish this... I got a nice bottle of sake waiting for me."

Out the corner of his eye, he glanced at his towel, where you sat, reapplying your sunscreen.

Carefully, you squeezed a glob into your palm, closing the cap before rubbing your hands together and massaging it into the flesh of your legs.

Like a dog with a bone, he watched, mesmerized, as you caressed your skin, the sunscreen giving you an alluring shine and making your legs look ripe and tender for the grabbing.

'Goddamn...'

He grinned, taking in the light (f/c) of your bikini, along with the waist beads hanging lazily over your stomach, and the gold anklets and bracelets that jingled with your every movement.

You looked oh-so sexy, and he was oh-so ready to join you.

"Let's hurry this up!"

Tossing the ball in the air, he served, sending it flying over the net with the force of a cannonball.

"Sanji!" Usopp shrieked, eyes wide with fear as he slapped his hands on his cheeks.

"Diable Mouton Shot!" Sanji spat, jumping into the air and hitting the ball with a flaming kick, sending the it right back.

The damned thing caught on fire with his force, and was headed straight for the sand.

"What a weak serve! I'd expect that from you, moss for brains!"

"HAH?! YOU WANNA SAY THAT AGAIN!"

"I got it, bro!" Franky dove, extending his fist in the nick of time and saving the ball, letting it bounce into the sky. "All you!"

Pissed, Zoro broke into a running start before launching himself into the air once again, the crowd going wild as he wound up his arm for one monster slam.

Suddenly, something called his attention to the sidelines, his eyes instantly landing on the (h/c) head of hair that belonged to his girlfriend.

You were smiling from ear to ear, beaming with pride, hands clasped together as you watched him soar through the air.

Finding his eyes, you gave your swordsman a firm nod, your expression encouraging him to push forward.

That was all the confirmation he needed.

With renewed vigor, Zoro turned to the ball, your support turning his drive into pure, molten fire.

He roared, striking down on the ball, executing a perfect spike.

"Ow!" a random woman winced as she walked past, lifting up her foot. "Stupid seashells..."

"Do you need help, my dear?! I'd be glad to carry you wherever you need to go!" Sanji offered, practically teleporting to her side with a lovesick grin.

"SANJI!" Usopp screamed, terrified, as the ball came careening toward him.

Frantic, he dove out the way, just barely saving his ass as it slammed into the ground with a thunderous crack, a large burst of sand shooting up from the ground.

For a moment, the crowd was silent, before erupting with roars of joy and excitement.

Everyone rushed Zoro as he landed, Franky letting out loud whoops and howls of victory.

"SANJI!" Nami shouted, dropping herself face first in her towel. "My berries!"

"Zoro and Franky win! Way to go, Zoro!" Chopper cheered, jumping off of the lifeguard chair.

"That move was killer, man!" one of the onlookers exclaimed. "I could barely see the ball!"

"You should go pro! You'd make a killing!" another added.

"Great game!"

"Good job!"

"You're the best player I've ever seen!”

"That last spike was insane! A little higher and you could've jumped over the net!"

The women were next to swarm, pushing past the men and surrounding him on all sides.

"Nice game, hot stuff!"

"You're really strong, aren't you?"

"You doin' anything later tonight?"

Zoro rolled his eyes, unamused, as he attempted to maneuver around them, one thing on his mind.

You.

Though, as he managed to peer past the crowd of girls, he caught sight of a man next to his towel.

He was large for an average guy, muscular and decently good-looking with shaggy brown hair.

But that wasn't what bothered Zoro.

What bothered Zoro was the way he was talking to you, forcibly positioning himself to tower over your sitting form and using a sharp tone that sparked a few embers of anger in the swordsman's chest.

Who the fuck did he think he was talking to?

"You got a name, handso—?" "Move."

Pushing past her and the other girls, he power-walked toward your umbrella, getting close enough to actually make out what you were saying.

"Look, whatever your name is, I'm trying to help you out," you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "I can't promise your safety if my boyfriend comes back here and catches you acting like this."

He'd been at this for fifteen minutes...

After Robin left to go get a drink, and Nami ran off to kick Sanji's ass, he swooped in like a vulture on the hunt, attempting to put the moves on you.

He used every line in the book, laying it on thick as he bragged about his weight-lifting stats and obnoxiously flexed his muscles in your face.

"My safety?" he scoffed, letting out a haughty chuckle at your outlandish statement. "Sweetheart, if anything, your boyfriend's the one that should be worryin' about safety. I guarantee you I'm twice the man he is."

You paused a moment, almost disbelieving, lifting up your shades and waiting to see if the man was serious.

He was.

Deadly serious, actually.

'HA!'

You threw your head back in a burst of uproarious laughter, the sound causing the man to jolt with surprise, and slight confusion.

He'd never seen your expressions range anything past disinterest, so seeing you so amused by the idea of him beating up your boyfriend was... jarring, to say the least.

But you couldn't help yourself.

Zoro, the man with a bounty over one billion?

Zoro, the master of the sword belonging to the king of hell?

Zoro, the man who has moved literal mountains with his bare hands?

It was almost too much.

The man's brows furrowed, face burning at the mockery.

"The hell is so fuckin' funny?!" he huffed, growing anger.

Attempting to regain your composure, you wiped a tear from your eye, slightly clutching your stomach as your laughs died down.

"You wish," you snickered into the rim of your fruity drink, taking a sip as you attempted to muffle your chuckles. "He'd kill you... like actually."

Furious, the man took a harsh step forward, completely invading your personal space and smacking your drink out your hand, knocking the cup into the sand.

"You think I'm some kind of joke, bitch?!" he exclaimed, the veins in his neck bulging.

"Pick it up."

Zoro's voice traveled through the air like a wave of ice, quelling the slight pangs of worry in your chest like water to a fire.

Feeling tough, the man snapped his head around, meeting your swordsman with a harsh glare.

That is... until he realized who he was talking to.

Instantly, the wind left his sails, eyes widening and heart sinking like a rock in a river as it all finally clicked.

Your boyfriend was one of the most wanted men in the New World.

"Y-You... Y-You're... Pirate Hunter?!"

"I said... pick it up," Zoro pressed, tone leaving no room for argument, eye sharply trained on the bastard in front of him. "Before I make you do it myself."

"Look! I didn't know she was your girlfriend!" the man blubbered, practically shaking as he scrambled to pick up your glass, frantically handing it to you. "I didn't mean it! I don't want any trouble!"

"Then get lost," Zoro spat, harshly, brows cinching with anger. "You come around here again and I'll show you who's the real bitch."

The man didn't have to hear it twice.

Like that, he was gone, running back to his friends with his tail between his legs.

Finally able to sit, Zoro plopped himself down next to you, muttering and grumbling to himself in annoyance as he watched the man run away.

He let him off easy—only because you chewed him out the last time he "went overboard" and caused an island-wide incident, forcing the crew to evacuate.

He nearly murdered the island's sovereign for calling you out of your name, and doubling down when he told him to watch his mouth.

Tenderly, you grabbed his chin, pulling him in and placing a thankful kiss on his cheek as you handed off his sake.

"My hero," you cooed, teasingly.

With a grumble, he popped the cork with his teeth, taking a large swig with puffed cheeks, before breaking off with a harsh sigh.

As he wiped the excess with the back of his hand, he glanced at the man once again, anger flaring in his chest when the bastard hid behind his umbrella.

Like a goddamn child...

Zoro scoffed, taking another swig of his sake.

"Fuckin' pussy..."

[nakylvr]

— AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES!

zhou xinyu (triples) x fem!reader

warnings/tags: language, nsfw content, idol!xinyu, idol!reader, xinyu & reader are roommates, they almost get caught, wlw, lowkey perv!xinyu, dom!xinyu, sub!reader, fingering (r receiving)

main masterlist | triples masterlist

minors do not interact

being roommates with xinyu was fun. you two spent most of your off days together whether it meant going out or staying in the room with takeout and watching movies all day. that being said, you did notice some things during your time of being her roommate.

you didn't think much of it in the beginning. the stares that never left you even in a group of people. the touches that lasted a little longer than a normal bandmate or even friend would last. the thing was, you enjoyed it. maybe that's what got you in this current situation, sitting in between xinyu's legs on your bed with your panties pushed to the side as her fingers work their way inside of you. because god were you enjoying it now.

"shh, stay quiet for me. we don't want the others to hear, do we?" xinyu murmurs into your ear as her fingers slowly pump into you.

you shake your head, biting your lip to try and not make any noise but can't help and let out a few whimpers each time her fingers push back into you. "f-fuck," you whine quietly, your hips bucking against her hand as more whimpers leave your mouth.

"i know, feels good doesn't it?" xinyu whispers to you, leaving little kisses along your neck as her other hand roams up your chest under your shirt and gently squeezes your breast in her hand, groaning into your neck at the feeling of you tightening around her fingers. "you're so pretty like this, princess. doing so good for me, fuck i've been waiting for this, to make you cum on my fingers, to touch you like this, to kiss you," she lightly rambles as she continues to leave kisses on your neck.

hearing her words only make you wetter than you already were, and you let out a loud moan when she started fondling your tit in her hand, not being able to keep yourself quiet anymore. "feels so good, s-so good. please don't stop, please," you manage to get out through whimpers and moans that are getting louder as xinyu's fingers start moving faster.

"shh," xinyu moves her hand from your tit to your face, moving your head to look back at her as she kisses you. she curls her fingers inside you and you moan into the kiss to which she quickly slides her tongue in your mouth. your hand grasps the back of her neck to pull her closer to you as you grind into her hand, moaning every time she curls her fingers. you're too caught up in the pleasure you were feeling to hear footsteps from outside the room, and the sound of knocking on the door caused you to freeze.

"hey! we're ordering food for dinner, do you guys want anything specific?" nakyoung's voice is heard on the other side of the door.

xinyu pulls out of the kiss, but her fingers don't stop, leaving you letting out a quiet moan which she immediately covers your mouth with her hand to keep you quiet. "no, we're good!" she says loud enough for nakyoung to hear, smiling at you as she curls her fingers again right against your g-spot. your eyes roll back at the feeling as you moan loudly into her hand, your other hand grabbing her wrist of the hand that was pumping into you as you start grinding your hips with more need and desire.

"okay!" footsteps are heard walking away from the room and xinyu is looking at you with a devilish smile on her face at the desperation in your actions. "please," your voice comes out muffled through her hand, but you both know if she removes it then you'll end up giving yourself away of the whole thing currently happening.

"please what, baby?" xinyu asks in a teasing tone, her fingers slowing down to tease.

"please let me cum," you say past her hand. "please, xinyu, please," you should be embarrassed by asking this, but there's no embarrassment in your body right now. you're desperate for some kind of release.

"hm, i dunno," xinyu pretends to think about it. "will you let me do this more than just this once?" she says, her eyes staring deeply into yours.

you nod your head quickly as you try to get some more friction with the slow pace of her fingers by grinding your hips. "yes! yes, please! i want you. please make me cum!"

"fuck," xinyu breaths out at your words before thrusting her fingers into you at a quick pace. the sight of you desperately grinding your hips into her hand mixed with the wet sounds of your pussy has her going insane as she removes her hand from your mouth. "you gonna cum for me, princess?"

"yes! yes, yes! please!" you reply as soon as her hand is away from your mouth. you can feel the knot in your stomach tightening, threatening to snap as xinyu curls her fingers and hits your special spot again, making your eyes roll back again.

"cum for me," xinyu whispers before kissing you.

you moan into the kiss as she pushes her fingers in one more time and it causes you to snap, your legs shaking as you cum all over her fingers. you're holding onto her wrist with a tight grip that loosens the second you feel the euphoric wave crashing down on you, and your hips slow to a stop. xinyu pulls out of the kiss and slowly removes her fingers from you, putting them up to her mouth and licking them clean which makes you press your legs together at the sight.

"you taste good, too," xinyu murmurs. "you'll let me taste you more next time, right?"

your face heats up at the words but you nod your head. "yes," you answer. the look xinyu gives you after you answer is enough for you to start getting wet again and you know you got yourself into something you couldn't turn back on. not that you wanted to, though.

[mahalkheeta]

— imagine going down on heeseung at the back of his car 🫠

the way his legs would spread automatically to make room for you, a cocky smirk spreading across his lips. his hand comes to hold the back of your head, guiding you to his clothed cock that is practically throbbing for your attention. you haven't even started anything and he's already so needy for you.

"be a good girl, yeah?" he hums, making quick work of his jeans and his underwear. he lets the fabric pool around his knees, too desperate to have himself shoved into your tight mouth to care about completely removing his clothing.

his cock stands between his legs, the tip red and leaking. heeseung doesn't need to say much else really. the sight of his cock is already enough to have your mouth watering, not hesitating a second more before peppering open mouthed kisses around his head.

"fuckkk..." heeseung groans. his brows furrow as he struggles to keep his eyes open, fighting the onslaught of overwhelming pleasure just to watch his head disappear into your tight little mouth. he can't help the shiver that runs down his spine as your run your tongue across his slit, exactly the way he loves it. he's not afraid to let you know how well you're doing either.

"just like that, baby," he moans, his thighs tensing as you take more of his length into your mouth. "feels so fuckin' good." his fingers tighten into your hair, his hips instinctively bucking as you hollow your cheeks.

his head is thrown back into the leather material of the seat as you sink your mouth further down his length. one little peek up at him from your lashes has your panties soaked.

heeseung's brows are scrunched together, his eyes shut tight. his mouth is parted into an "o", his rough moans and grunts continuously flowing out of his mouth. knowing that your actions were the cause of his state simply makes you delirious.

when you moan around his cock at the sight of his ecstasy, his breath hitches. it takes a lot of effort for him to crack his eyes open to peer down at you, his cock stuffed into your mouth and hitting the back of your throat.

"you like that, hm?" he hums, grunting when you nod your head. "you like seeing how good you're makin' me feel, baby?" before you know it, the man is gripping your head in place, shallowly thrusting his length in and out of your mouth.

"oh, fuck," heeseung hisses, his thrusts turning frantic as you take whatever he gives you. "shit, baby... your mouth is making me feel so good." he murmurs, mindlessly fucking into your wet cavern.

when you start to time the bobbing of your head with his thrusts, heeseung completely loses it. his hips falter and his back arches to get himself to reach the back of your throat one last time.

"fuck, fuck, fuck," he chants unbashedly, his orgasm approaching embarrassingly quick. "i'm gonna cum. a-ah! holy shit, baby 'm gonna cum."

you pop your mouth off of him. your hand wraps around his length, furiously pumping his cock as you open your mouth and sticking your tongue out for him to cum into. good lord, the sight had heeseung right on the edge.

"oh my god, yes, yes, yes! fuck, that's a good girl," he cries out, voice rising in tone. his hands move from yoir head to the headrest of the backseat, arms flexing as he feels the pressure build in his stomach. "fuckkk, baby, that's it! don't stop... keep going." he's sure his eyes roll to the back of his head when he feels the pressure in his stomach snap.

pearly white ropes of cum shoot out of him, his back permanently archea as his hips instinctively rub his tip across the smooth muscle of your tongue. "f-fuck!"

"a-ah! 'm cumming! take it all like a good girl," he moans. he's practically whinning with how high pitched his voice is. an airy and breathless pant escapes him with each drop of cum your milk from his tip, a stark contrast to the rough and hoarse tone he was using earlier.

"oh my god, you drive me nuts." he chuckes breathlessly, giving you no time to recover as he pulls you up for a heated kiss. it doesn't take long before he's pushing you back into the backseat, his lips pressing open mouthed kisses to every corner of your exposed skin.

"h-heeseung–" you try speaking, a gasp leaving you as his hand sneaks into your skirt to feel the wetness in between your legs.

"my poor baby," he coos, nibbling at a the skin right underneathe your collar bone. "got so wet giving me the best head, huh? you want a reward?"

"lay back, sweetheart. i'll take care of you."

[st4rymoon]

𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥

✶ 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘵𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘋𝘢𝘺 1: 𝘝𝘪𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺 ✶ 𝘑𝘰𝘦𝘭 𝘔𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 ✶

Context: Losing your virginity! to older bf Joel Miller <3

- Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex!, soft dom Joel!, readers first time, loss of virginity, pet names, Joel goes a little dumb :3, teasing

Your glossy eyes gawked at Joel as his hands ran down your plush thighs. You were out of breath and needy, but his gentle touch soothed your nerves.

"Don't worry, darlin', I'll take good care of ya'. Reall good care of ya' bunny" he cooed as he tugged your messy pink panties to the side.

You'd been dating Joel for almost 9 months now, and your lack of experience became prominent to Joel within a few months.

When he heard you say you'd never had sex before, Joel felt a little guilty knowing a man his age would be the one taking your innocence way.

But that didn't stop him from giving into your constant begging and pleading for him to fuck you.

"Member' if you want me to stop, use our code word" he cooed as he hiked your legs over his and stroked himself with his free hand.

"I remember, cherry, it's cherry," you moaned in desperation.

You were hypnotized by the look on Joel's face, a look of desperation and need. His dark eyes were hooded and mouth agar as he fisted your panties to the side and fucked himself through your sticky folds.

Both of you let out a guttural moan at the contact. "She's all nice n' wet for me, ain't she?" Joel cooed as he pumped himself through your cunt, gently nudging at your swollen clit at a painfully slow pace.

"Joel! Please, please don't tease" you cried. "'M not teasing you, honey. I'm working you up, savoring the moment." The tone of Joel's voice had you clenched around nothing.

His movements were slow and calculated, each touch making you shiver and needier than you were seconds ago.

You were sprawled on your back for god knows how long as Joel fucked himself through your sticky cunt, the lewd sounds coming from between you were downright sinful.

"Think you ready f'me now, bunny? I've worked up my poor girl enough," Joel cockily smiled as he held the now transparent thin cloth of your panties with a grip that turned his knuckles white.

You let out a satisfied whimper as Joel plunged his meaty cock into you for the first time. You watched Joel go cross-eyed as he settled into your tight cunt; the thought of him being the first and only man to experience this type of pleasure caused his lips to curl up in selfishness.

Your nails dug into his thick arms as you gasped at the stretch. Tears built at the corner of your eyes in a mix of pain and pleasure. "You okay?" Joel's soft voice echoed from above.

His calloused hand cupped your cheek in reassurance, his thumb rubbing your cheekbone as he waited for your response.

"I'm good, keep going." You nodded up at him.

You could feel Joel all over your body as he thrusts in and out of you carefully. You began to grow impatient at his gentle thrusts, but instead of letting you know, your legs wrapped around his hips and pushed him forward.

Joel choked on his spit at the action, his body jerking in pleasure as he savored the moment. "If you want more honey, you have to ask for it. Remember?" he chuckled.

"More Joel, please, need it please" you moaned. You didn't have to ask Joel twice as he picked up the pace.

The once soft, gentle thrusts now grew into heavy, drawn-out pounding as he sloppily sucked at your nipples. Pleasured coursed through you as Joel's weight pinned you under him as he broke you in.

You could feel every vein and twitch of his cock as you clenched around him. "Ohh m- my good," You whined out as Joel expertly kept your panties to the side while keeping your leg wide open with the same hand.

"Feelin' me real deep, aren't ya' darlin'? Jus' feels so good, doesn't it?"

You nodded with tears as an unfamiliar feeling built in your tummy. The constant nudging at unreached places your fingers could never reach and Joel's pubic bone grinding onto your swollen bud was like a match made in heaven.

Your pretty moans filled Joel's drunken mind as you came around his meaty dick. The thick white slick forming at his base now stuck to his legs and pubic bone as your messy cunt gushed around him.

Heavy breaths and unsteady moans spilled from Joel's lips as he watched your body glow under him in a layer of sweat.

It was an image he never wanted to forget. The image of you spread nice and wide with your hands to your head, tits bouncing at the perfect rhythm, with his beefy cock fucking you onto his sheets.

"Love you so mu- much, Joell" You dumbly spoke with spit dribbling down your chin. With that, Joel went completely stupid.

He was muttering nonsense as he pumped you full of his seed. You admired him with teary eyes and took in the look of utter pleasure coursing through him.

"S- soo oh my- love you, love you so much" Joel seethed as his hips came to a halt with one final thrust.

Once Joel returned to earth, he was faced with everything he'd ever wished for.

[delphi-shield]

:// sᴍᴀʟʟ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ғᴏʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ / ʙɪʟʟʏ.ʙᴜᴛᴄʜᴇʀ

Billy Butcher x Reader smut, hurt/no comfort wc: ~5.2k mdni read on ao3 digging the worms out of my brain real quick since i finally caught up with the boys. idk i think i worked through something personal with this, so like, that's a win for me.

summary: Butcher knows better than to be fucking around with you, but there's 50 quid in it for him if he gets you to call him 'daddy'. Easy money.

content: s4 spoilers, dubcon, butcher's pov, an exorbitant amount of kessler in the first half, age gap, general sleazy behavior, handjob, finger fucking, piv, pussy slapping, some just the tip action, blowjob, mentions of titfucking, degradation, general objectification, public sex, not proofread.

“Makes you realize men have nipples too.”

The bar is packed for a Wednesday night, but Butcher already knows exactly what Kessler is talking about. You’re a ditch lily, sitting tall in this shithole. He turns his head away, pretends he doesn't see the way you lick up a trail of spilled cosmopolitan from the side of your glass, pink tongue parting your lips, eyes half-shut. 

Fucking typical. Kessler could sniff out daddy issues and sadness from a mile away, and he was lethal at half that distance. He could have them wrapped around his finger in the time it took Butcher to take a piss.

His eyes linger. A thing like you doesn't belong in a dump like this. This is the sort of place girls like you stumble into at 1 AM, survey the crowd through the haze of cigarette smoke, and wobble right back out onto the streets, take your chances with the elements rather than the haggard, unfriendly crowd that hunches over their drinks.

Butcher likes Midwest 10's. Begs Kessler to stop ogling barely legal co-eds, says he's not some sleazy cunt in a John Hughes film. He can lie all he wants. If it makes him hard, it makes Butcher hard. 

He glances sidelong at your face. You've got this Christmas-light bright smile that makes his dick jerk. Kessler’s more than under his skin. He’s in his veins, in the same blood that raises his cock up like a goddamn bicycle pump when you lean over the bar, arms squeezing your tits together.

"You could probably fuck 'em." Kessler tips his head to the side, eyes locked on your cleavage. His eyes narrow, lips pursed, evaluating your chest and charting a course for his dick to travel.

"Shut up."

"Huh?"

Fuck. Your tip your head to the side from two seats away, brows pinched together. Cute, in a lost little lamb kind of way.

Butcher's eyes cut to Kessler. He's cocked it all up now. The sly, punchable grin on Kessler’s face turns him back to his drink. He drains his glass and gestures for another. If he doesn’t look at you, if he keeps drinking, this all goes away.

"Nothin'. Don't you worry about it, love."

That should be the end of it, but you’ve clearly got something wrong with you. You fiddle with your purse, pluck up your courage, and drop yourself onto the barstool next to him. Whether you’ve got no sense of self-preservation or you’re just that damn oblivious, he doesn’t intend to get to know you well enough to find out. Butcher's strained smile doesn't do much to smooth the worry lines away.

Kessler chuckles, leans back and props his elbows up on the bar. Cunt just wants to watch him squirm.

"No," Kessler corrects, drawing the word out. "I want you to get some pussy."

His eyes dart over to Kessler, looming over you, hands ghosting up your arms to squeeze your shoulders. He blinks rapidly, rubs at his face, tries to play it off like he's nervous or tired or whatever the fuck but when he looks down, there's your tits again. Butcher lolls his head back to the ceiling. Laugh it up, you fuckin’ cunt.

And Kessler does. Makes a show of slapping his hand on his thigh, head knocked back, grinning toothily.

He tries to ignore you, but you’re straddling that stool next to him in your little skirt and ordering another cosmo. This isn’t the kind of bar for cocktails, and he knows without even seeing the bartender’s eye roll that he hates you.

It's none of his business. He ought to keep himself sat there drowning in his drink ‘til last call and past that, make them throw him out on the street, give him a reason to swing first. It's a better idea than messing with you.

The bartender drops your drink off in front of you and turns before the words ‘thank you’ leave your glossy lips. Another sickly pink cocktail with a dried out lime dropped on top. Butcher can’t help himself. He’s got a soft spot for the clueless.

“Cheery bloke, isn't he?” He says, casting a sidelong glance at the bartender. He taps a finger against the bartop, inclines his head toward your cocktail. “That the only drink you know the name of?”

Your cheeks warm. You hide it behind a hand, turning your face away from him to laugh.

“What? No. I just think they taste good.”

Kessler snorts. “That’s a fat load of shit.”

Butcher agrees. His mouth twists into a half-hearted smile. He slides his glass over to you. 

“Try it,” he insists.

There’s hardly a passing thought for your own safety. You look between his scotch and his face and seem to decide it’s safe to take drinks from strange old fucks in bars. Your fingers brush his when you take the glass, warm and soft - sticky. You must be more sloshed than you look, must keep spilling your drinks. Hell, for all he knows, maybe this place does make the best cosmo in the city. Maybe the bartender just hates your ass because you keep making a mess.

You don’t even ask what he’s drinking. (Maybe this is all a grift, he thinks. Kessler’s at his ear, chuckling - she ain’t bright enough for that.) You lift his glass and leave your lipstick behind.

“Oh my god.” You sputter, pound a fist against your chest. It makes your tits bounce. Fucking miracle your shirt is containing those things. “That tastes like ass.”

“That is the highest quality scotch this bar serves.”

“It tastes like someone put a cigarette out in a glass of whiskey.”

“It’s a shit bar.”

You laugh, head tipped back, nose scrunched - the works. You’re too tipsy for it to be on purpose. Being cute comes naturally to you. Must be how you’ve made it this far.

You pass his drink back and scoot your cosmo closer to you, spilling it as the glass skips over the pock-marked countertop. Butcher snorts, dabs it up for you with his sleeve. He’s starting to think his theory about the cosmopolitans might hold true.

“Well, here, a trade’s a trade.” He takes your drink by the stem (fucking amazed they even have martini glasses in this place) and pounds back a mouthful.

It isn’t that bad, but he makes a show of scrunching his nose and shaking his head. He slides your drink back over to you and mirrors the way you had clung to your drink.

“You’re kidding,” you laugh. “It’s better than yours. I don’t know how you drink that.”

“I’ll keep my liquid ashtray, thanks.”

Your eyes are all lit up when you smile, but it emphasizes the raw edges, the puffiness that lingers. Rough night for you, by the looks of it. Not like he’s having much of a better one.

There’s no harm in it. No harm in showing you what a proper drink tastes like, broadening your horizons and helping you both forget what a shit hand you’ve been dealt. He buys you a drink on the condition that you try something that isn’t a cosmopolitan. You can hardly stomach a whiskey and coke. He orders you a fernet and coke for shits and giggles, expects you to spit it out like all the rest, barks out a laugh when you declare it’s tasty, notes of lavender drawing you in. Notes of lavender - Christ, what fucking suburb did you pop out of? 

He introduces you to more drinks, leans closer with each empty glass. You're new here, you tell him. You tell him your name, too, not that he remembers. Got stood up on some shitty date. He knows it’s got to be shitty because what idiot in his right mind would take you here, of all places?

By the time he orders you both shots of Rumple Minze, you’re pressed shoulder to shoulder. Your hand splays against his chest, head leaning against him. You lift his shot to his lips for him and he’s too drunk to find it childish and irritating. He downs it and does the same for you, watches you extend that pretty neck to drink it down.

“I’ll get you a cab,” he slurs, rocking unsteadily to his feet.

“I already called an Uber.”

Jesus. It’s a struggle not to roll his eyes. Fucking kids. Allergic to one night stands, couldn’t take a hint to save their life. Even Kessler is on his side, his head thunking against the bartop.

It's for the best, he thinks, trying to curb his disappointment. He's got shit to do. Ryan to worry about. Kessler's a right cunt, pushing him to you. He hasn't got the time to be fucking about. This entire thing had been a waste of time, too busy trying to get his dick wet to make the most of what he’s got left.

Butcher stuffs his hands into the pockets of his coat, steps back, ready to split and stumble his way back home. He nods quick and sharp, tight-lipped smile to keep his frustration locked behind his teeth.

You show him your phone, make him squint to see what he’s supposed to be looking at. “My Uber is still a couple minutes away, so…”

Kessler picks his head up from the bar. He's a bloodhound for pussy. He picks up the leading edge in your voice before Butcher’s even done parsing your words.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Kessler drones. “You can’t even get it up, can you?”

“I’m damn well going to try.”

“What?” You laugh, swaying on your feet.

Butcher wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you against his side. “Nothin’. Don’t you worry about it. I’ll keep you company. Make sure no nasties try to get you.”

The cold outside is bracing. You wrap your arms tight around yourself and this time Butcher’s too drunk to pretend he isn't staring at the way your tits press together.

It’s your idea. Really. The way you look up at him, the way your lips stay parted while the pair of you pace the sidewalk. You wrap your hand around his bicep and squeeze, eyes drifting slowly to the side, to the alleyway just a few strides away.

See? It’s your idea, honest. He drags you behind a dumpster, pins you to the wall of the alley, and shoves his tongue down your throat, yeah, but you moan so fucking loud and drag him closer. It takes longer than he'd like for your hand to stop massaging his chest and start fondling his cock, but you're a sweet girl - don't seem the type to do this too often. Need some guidance.

Butcher lays his hand atop yours, wraps your fingers tighter around his bulge. Your breath hitches, your eyes flicking down to your hand, mouth popped open - got this sweet, vacant little look in your eye.

He'd bet real money you go dumb for cock.

“$50 says you can get her to call you ‘daddy’,” Kessler pipes up, leaning against the wall next to you. He tips a cigarette into his mouth, cups a hand around to light it, and Butcher swears the light from his zippo gleam in your eyes. He doesn’t doubt it. Seems cruel, though, especially when he can’t remember your name.

“What was your name again?”

It takes a bit for you to get dick off your mind and fish around for your name. You mumble, make him lean in close and tilt his head to get you to say it again, clearer.

You're the obedient sort. Pick up on cues so easy. Don't even make him ask for it again. He pats your cheek, smirk creasing his face.

By your side, Kessler flashes a crisp $50. He plucks it taut, fans himself with it, makes a real show of being a dick while you try to take Butcher's out of his pants.

At the end of the day, 50 quid is 50 quid.

“How ‘bout you ask daddy for permission, sweetheart?”

Your mouth moves wordlessly.

“Please?”

He clicks his tongue. “That’s real polite. But it ain’t what I asked for, is it?”

“Can I please play with your cock, daddy?”

“Better.”

Kessler slips the fifty into Butcher’s coat pocket while you fumble with his belt and free him from his pants. You lay his cock in the seam of your hands, cupping him like he’s a gift on two legs. You stroke him reverently, look up at him with big, thoughtless lamb eyes.

Your heart’s in it, but you’re too reserved for his taste. He grips your hand in his and guides you down his cock, shows you when to squeeze, when to twist your wrist, how to flick your thumb over the slit of his tip.

He can never make it last when he drinks. Should have warned you before he came on your pretty skirt, but you’ve got a natural talent for stroking dick. He keeps his groan locked up tight. It rattles through his chest and he leans into you, crushing you against the wall of the alley. His hips stutter and rut into your hand, still wrapped around him, coaxing every drop from his tip. You still toy with him while he tries to catch his breath. He’s got to push away from you with a mumbled “Christ, all right, that’s enough.”

It’s like he’s taking your favorite toy away. You pout up at him, hand still molded for his cock by your side, by the skirt his ruined with his cum. He almost gets an apology out, but you drag a finger through his mess and bring it to your lips, make a show of licking it up.

His chest aches. He isn’t sure if it’s the tumor or his heart desperately trying to pump enough blood down to his dick to get him up again.

Butcher crams two fingers into his mouth and scrapes the dirt from beneath his nails with his teeth. The rest is a blur. He knows that he kicks your feet apart, traces your slit through your panties before he pushes them to the side and finger fucks you until your head snaps back against the wall. It’s quick, messy - leaves his forearm soaked. He’s not so sure that was real, but he’s too drunk to figure it out, too gone ask.

He tucks himself back into his pants. You set your panties back in place, skirt still hiked up to your ribs. You slip a little lower down the wall, panting. He stops you before you can slip all the way down, pats your cunt, and tugs your skirt back into place.

“Let’s get you a cab, eh?”

That’s the last thing he remembers clearly. You’d missed your Uber, had to take a cab with him anyway. He remembers you leaning against him, tucked up against his side, hand stroking his chest. He’d pet your hair - soft as lamb’s wool - and whispered nonsense against your head just to get a laugh out of you. After you get out, the whole thing’s blank.

When Butcher wakes up at 2 PM the next day, choking on his own vomit, he can't find the 50 quid. He turns his jacket inside out searching for it. A scrap of paper with your number scrawled on it falls from his jacket pocket. He doesn’t spare it more than a glance and keeps digging for his wallet.

Lambs lose their appeal after the flying cunts nearly bit his cock off.

That farm had been dirty business. Wicked stuff, the kind that doesn't wash off. This work always has been, but this time the blood doesn't come out from under his fingernails. He tastes bile every time he breathes. The copper twang of blood trickling down the back of his throat is the only chaser he gets anymore.

He doesn't think of you often. He knows it'd break your little heart to hear it, have you looking up at him with those ‘fuck me, I'm sad’ eyes and that little girl pout that makes him feel every bit the lech he is. You’re a sweet thing. Vacant, just like him. It didn’t take long to piece that together.

You’re easy and malleable, quick to fit yourself around him in whatever way he demands. He liked that about you at first.

But when he calls on you at three in the morning for a quick lay and you answer the door in a full face of make-up, hair done and wearing the sort of nightgown that no one actually sleeps in, all he feels is distaste.

You let him crowd you against your couch (a neutral color, no blanket in sight, your living room just as blank as the rest of you) without so much as a ‘hello’. You hook a leg over his hip. No panties, he realizes, eyes locked on your drippy cunt, already flushed. Been touching yourself to the thought of this. He warms a little at the thought.

Butcher wedges his knee between your leg and grinds. Any warmth you’d kindled with wet pussy dissipates the moment you moan so goddamn loud, the sound hollow and plastic. He keeps his leg still, flexes his thigh for you to grind on. His jaw tightens. He nearly shoves his fingers in your mouth to keep you from making those stupid fucking noises.

You let him twist you up however he wants, more a posable toy than a person. He pushes you further along the couch until your back arches awkwardly against the arm. You don't protest. Of course you don't.

His thick fingers trail down your slit, part your slick folds for his inspection. He sways back on his haunches, admires the pretty way he's got you arranged, pinned open on his fingers for him.

He brings his hand down sharply on pussy once, twice - and the third time directly to your clit is just because you kept making that annoying fucking noise. That nasally, porn-star whine that drills him between the eyes and makes his hard-on flag. The way you twitch and jerk at each hit might be genuine but that fucking noise drives him up a wall. Christ, there's got to be something about you that's real.

Pussy’s real. Can’t fake that, he thinks.

“Stay right there,” he says, a bite to his voice when you try to shift against him again. If you could just lay there and take it - is that so much to ask for?

He guides himself to you, hips rocking experimentally. You suck his head in and his chin dips to his chest. He groans deep. It turns to a growl when you raise your hips. He lays his forearm against you, pressing you down - and that moan might have been real.

“Can't you do fucking anything right?” He snaps. His hips push forward, bullying himself deeper into you. You suck a breath through your teeth, your hand bracing against his forearm. “I told you to stay right there.”

A spark of indignation flickers in your eyes, flash-fire flushed out by the same pitiful little lamb wool you pull back over your eyes. Makes you look all downy, plush and fuckable - he's fished more respectable shits from the toilet.

You’re a good girl for a few more shallow thrusts, lay there just like he wants while he works himself to the hilt. He finds his rhythm sloppily, one knee propped on the couch, the other foot planted on the floor. Your tits bounce with every thrust and he’s stupid enough to take his hands off of you, trust you not to move while he gropes at your breast.

Immediately you rise to your elbows, try to arch your back deeper. He’s positive you’re trying to mimic some video, down to the exact angle of your spine, but your heart isn’t in it. His cock butts against your walls, shallower than before, the pleasure that had been tearing through his blood coming to a screeching halt. He hisses through his teeth, grinding out his frustration.

“Don't –” his shoves you back down, hand flattening against your cheek and pushing your face into the couch. Feels fucking awful any other position. “–fucking move. Don't fucking move. Trying to cum. Goddammit.”

Your hands curl into fists by your head. You hide your face, press it deeper into the cushion and he presses your face deeper to help you. The noise you make is pitiful, but at least it's real.

Fucking hell. Now he’s completely out of it. You’ve gone and fucked up pussy for him. He didn’t think that was possible. He can’t find the angle he needs, can’t get back to that gummy spot that make his vision blur.

He pulls out and flips you onto your stomach, ignoring the little whine you make. You don’t raise your hips - god forbid you take a fucking hint - so he sits you up for him and wedges his dick back in. It only takes a few thrusts for him to realize this is worse. Tighter, dry, chafing his dick like goddamn sandpaper.

“Your cunt shrivel up or something? Feels fucking terrible.”

He snatches your wrist, pulls your arm back at an angle that makes you cry out, and fills your palm with lube. Can't even get wet on your own. Fucking Christ, he's got to do everything for you. Even has to curl your fingers around his cock, drag your hand back and forth until you final get the big, swinging fucking hint and jerk him off.

He meant to stuff himself back into your cunt, but at this point your hand will do. Six one way, half a dozen the other. At least your hand doesn't chafe.

You’re silent now. Small mercies. The only sounds are the slick of your palm working him over and his labored breaths. Your hand is clumsy at this angle, but he’s not going to risk letting you move and fuck it all up again.

Once he’s close, he drops your hand and flips you onto your back again. A big hand presses your knees apart, opens you up for him. You're still so pliable, even if the sheen is gone from your cunt. You try to fix your hair. If he notices the tears brimming your eyes, he doesn't say anything.

He lines himself back up with your cunt, dragging himself through your folds. Your knees knock closer with each pass of his bright red tip over your clit. He taps it once with his cock, expecting another produced moan to rattle the walls, but you only whimper, your thighs trying to close around him.

Butcher smirks. He pumps himself into you, keeps himself shallow - just the tip past your puffy lips. 

You whimper, try to shuffle down and take more of him. Butcher’s hand grips your face, squishing your cheeks so hard it stings.

“Don't you fucking move,” he grits out. You used to take instruction so well. Now you've gotten all up in your own head. Nobody likes an uppity bitch, he ought to make you see that.

What he really ought to do is make you get down there and jerk him off. Your hand is still slicked, but you'd probably piss yourself at the chance. Instead, he pushes your knees damn near up to your ears and barks for you to hold your own legs. Your hands curl around the backs of your knees. There you go. Figuring it out again.

His hand strokes his dick quick and hard, one hand dedicated to keeping himself just inside you. It doesn't take long for him to cum. It’s a slow burn that seeps up through his belly, lattices up his ribs and congeals in his chest, makes him ache and cave over your body while his hips sputter. He squeezes himself dry, pumps his cum into your pussy until it flows past his tip and seeps down onto your couch. 

Butcher lingers over you, catching his breath. He’s already gone soft, his cock dropped out of you. He sits back against the opposite arm of the couch, splays himself out while you curl up.

Something burns in his chest - remorse, maybe. You’re all curled up against your couch, cheek cushioned on your arm - won’t look at him, don’t paw at him or lean against his side, don’t even reach to clean yourself up.

His head knocks back to the ceiling. He can’t be bothered to pull answers out of you. He reaches for the tissue box on your coffee table, plucks a handful, and cleans himself off.

He tosses the box back to the coffee table and shoves his boots back on, barely taking the time to lace them up properly. He scoops he coat up from where you’d shucked it onto the floor, buttons himself back up, and you still haven’t moved. His eyes linger on you for a moment, brow set low.

Can’t be bothered, he reminds himself. He runs a hand through his hair and makes for your door, boots thunking heavily against your floors.

“Can I see you again?”

You’ve managed to pick your head up when he glances back at you. You sound so desperate it's pitiful. His lip curls. He runs a hand over his head, looks anywhere but you.

Christ, even your apartment is blank and devoid of personality. He hadn't noticed it before, too consumed with the need to get between your thighs. He shrugs, and gives you a lifeless smile.

“We'll see.”

Butcher closes your door behind him and hurries down the hall. He turns the corner to see Kessler’s cheshire grin greeting him in the dark of your stairwell.

He ought to get right with you before his time comes. He isn't proud of the way things ended. Butcher’s a right bastard, but he isn't blind; he'd seen the look on your face, the hopeful shine in your eyes dulling when he'd left you there without so much as a ‘cheers, love, thanks for the rub’.

He doesn't bother texting you. He's already posted up outside your apartment. Giving you a heads up would only give him time to pussy out.

Besides, you're home. He knows it. You’re piss-easy to track. Home to work, work to home, same route, same time. It will be easy to knock on your door, get his closure, and slip out of your life for the last time.

It should be easy. He’s had harder conversations with people who meant more to him but he keeps staring at your door, trying to will himself to knock. He’s not that weak yet. He can still raise his hand.

Butcher turns to leave just as you open the door. His shoulders tense when you call out to him.

“Billy?” You blurt out. There’s genuine surprise there.

“I just thought I’d –” He turns to catch a glimpse of you and it sends him headlong into silence.

You look a right mess. No face isn’t done up, an oversized t-shirt draping off your shoulders. Your pajama pants are fluffy, snowflake print - tackiest thing he’s seen in a while. 

You duck your head down, trying to catch his eye. 

“You okay?” You hook your thumb over your shoulder. “Want to come in?”

He doesn’t. Not even a little. He wants to rip the band-aid off, forget he ever met you and let you get on with your life - whatever it is you do. But you step to the side and fix him with a weak little smile that he thinks might be real, and his feet take him in through the door.

It’s a nice place in the daytime, he realizes. Natural sunlight, open floorplan, your shelves crowded with plants and knick-knacks he’s never seen. You offer him a drink, laugh when he says water and fall quiet when he insists.

You hand him his drink and collapse onto your couch. Your legs kick up onto your coffee table, and for the first time he realizes your socks are fuzzy, too. He looks around, scans you from head to toe. Is this the right place? He keeps picking at his nails, trying to free the grime from under them.

Once you realize he’s baffled, you’re merciful enough to start the small talk. It’s awkward and stilted - his fault, his answers halting and quick. You give him grace, sip on your drink. Your laughs never quite reach your eyes, but you scoot closer to him on the couch anyway.

“Why are you really here, Billy?” Your hand settles on his thigh and curls inward.

It’s not how he wanted this to go, but he doesn’t stop you from sliding your hand higher while he chokes on his words. You’ve got his belt undone by the time he manages to string a sentence together.

“I've been a right cunt to you.”

“Mhm.”

“You don't got to put up with it, yeah?”

“Mm-mm.”

“Got your whole life right ahead of you.”

“Uh-huh.”

Fucking Christ, could you give him more than a noise? A few moments ago you’d held a conversation with him.

His irritation is snuffed out by your lips wrapping around the tip of his cock and sucking hard. Your hand pumps his shaft, twisting your wrist on the way back up. Good God, you learn quick.

Butcher could spoil you rotten if he had the time. He could get you whatever you wanted - if ever you wanted for anything. He cups a hand over the back of your head, encouraging, not guiding.

You’re methodical. You let your hand work what your mouth won’t reach, fondle his balls with the other one. It’s clinical. You’ve committed the moves to memory, when to swirl your tongue, hollow your cheeks, when to moan around him, when to look up at him with those tears straining at your waterline.

He finishes quick, his chest heaving. You pass him his water while you reach for a tissue box. He drains it and nearly misses you spitting his cum into a tissue, wadding it up and tossing it into the bin.

“I haven’t got much time left,” he says, breathless.

Your brow creases. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, your lips swollen. “What?”

“I’ve got this –” he gestures nebulously with a hand, like he’s trying to pluck the right words out of the air. “– thing. In my brain, see? Inoperable. So, if I up and vanish on you, it ain’t personal.”

You stay silent, stone faced. He wishes you’d say something. Even one of the irritating platitudes people like to parrot would be better than this. Your eyes harden. You purse your lips, breathe deep, and stand from the couch.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that, Billy. It was good to see you.”

Butcher’s still trying to catch his breath. He tucks himself back into his pants, a mess he’ll clean up later, and rises unsteadily. You don’t reach out to help. He makes another nebulous gesture towards you, his hand quivering.

“You want me to..?”

“Nah. Don’t strain yourself.”

He stuffs himself back into his coat, watching your eyes linger - maybe realizing for the first time how much slighter he’s looking. Butcher pats your cheek gently as he passes by.

You don’t ask to see him again. For your sake, he hopes this is the last time.

[buckyalpine]

Okay okay, that Wakanda Bucky imagine was soooooo hella cute 🥺❤️

Would you do a continuation of it where they live happily in the hut and maybe with some smuuuuut ? 🙊 The idea of him in that Hut, all cozy and romantic is not leaving my mind

WAKANDA BUCKY? YES, I will gladly give you more (this can be read as a standalone) There's something about Bucky in Wakanda that's just so soft and comforting to me. That sweet baby with his goats, just living in peace for the first time ever in a place where no one can hurt him. It's also the first place where he can just be himself without the pressure of worrying about anything else.

Just you and him.

He's just so in love with you; his words can only do so much. He wants to make you feel good in the most intimate way possible. He wants to physically give you what words won't translate.

He's nervous though.

He knows you love him for all of his imperfections; there's no doubt you adore every single bit of him. He has no reason to worry about what you'd think.

But this beautiful sweet boy is shy anyway.

Too shy to tell you he wants to make love. Too shy to slip his hands onto your bare skin even though he knows you wouldn't stop him. Too shy to even insinuate he wants more. Ever since you've moved into his hut, he'd wanted you closer. You cuddle every night and he loves the feel of your soft body nuzzled right by his side but its just not enough. He always tells you he loves you and how much you mean to him but it doesn't compare to the way he wants to just melt into you.

He manages to hold his tongue until one night when he just can't anymore. He's cuddled up on your chest while you both lay in his cot and he feels so safe and loved. He wants you now, more than ever. He doesn't even want to take you apart and wreck you; he just wants to love on you softly but he's not even sure if he can, I mean he only has one arm-

"What is it Buck" You whisper, carding your fingers softly through his locks, pushing back the few strands that fell from his half tied hair. "What you thinking about" you let your finger trace over his features, smoothing the crease between his brows that he makes when he's deep in thought. He blushes at you catching his mind in action, blinking with wide eyes before chewing his lip.

"I-

"What is it sweet boy" You continue to let your fingers gently dance over his face and the action makes him purr, leaning for more of your touch.

"I want you"

"You have me baby" You whisper, your heart beating a little faster wondering if he was implying what you were thinking, what you'd been wanting and craving for ages-

"No angel, I want you" He says in earnest hoping you'd understand, "I just-I'm not sure how" He looks down at himself, now afraid to meet your eyes. How could he make you feel good if he only had so much to work with. "I want to make you feel good"

He hesitantly lets his hand slide along your hip up to your waist and slipping under your shirt. The feeling of your bare skin is already so addicting, he starts to work at taking your clothes off as soon as you nod with a needy please. He finds you so unbearably gorgeous when you're naked on his bed and at one point he thinks that might be enough.

Your bare form is everything to him and he'd do anything to worship your more sacred places.

He'd be such a precious baby when it comes to you undressing him. The pink on his cheeks spreads to his ears and he can't help but gush at the way you kiss every scar and freckle on his skin when you let his robe drop to the floor.

"You're perfect" You whisper and he shakes his head because he's nothing in comparison to you. Not with all those angry red lines scattered across his chest, scars covering most of his skin.

"Not like you angel, I'm not-

"You are. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are soldier, how perfect and strong your body is" You don't let him argue, a gasp slipping past his lips when you wrap your hand around his length and start to pump. He's about to protest again because this is about you but he has no idea how long you've been waiting to do this for him.

"Please Bucky" You softly beg and he's an absolute goner when you wrap your hand around his aching length. Just when he thinks it couldn't get any better; your warm soft palm stroking him up and down, you tell him how beautiful and perfect he is and he swears he could cry.

"Look at how pretty you are baby" You coo, perched between his spread legs, leaning over to suckle the tip, humming at the taste, "Can't believe you hid this all from me for so long baby"

"Another-fuck sweets-another night, God I'll cum-you gotta stop" He whines as you release with a pop, your lips covered in his slick. He pulls you to lie down beside him, thinking about all the times he imagined making love to you. Looking into your eyes, letting his body cage you from the rest of the world, just you and him and nothing else.

But it wasn't easy with 1 arm.

"M'sorry baby, I-" Bucky stuttered, feeling unsteady as he hovered above you.

"Lay down for me" You cut off his rambling with a kiss to his lips before letting his head fall against the pillow. "Just wanna feel you Jamie, be close to you" You moan, rubbing your now dripping pussy all over his cock. "Want you inside me"

"Put my cock in you angel" Bucky's feral side made an appearance while he held his length letting you line up with the tip, the both of you gasping at the feeling of him finally pushing into you. "Fuck babydoll, wanted this so bad"

"oh fuck" You threw your head back at the feeling, all the pieces inside you coming together as you sank all the way down making you feel complete. "You feel so good inside me Bucky" You whined, grinding and rocking yourself on his thick length, feeling him in your belly.

"C'mere angel, please" He begged, reaching for you and pulling you causing you to fall onto his chest. He planted his feet and started to thrust up making you cry out. "Wanted to make love to you baby, I-fuck I love you so much, wanna make you feel so good"

"Feels-so-good-hng" You whimpered between thrusts, nipping and sucking bruises onto his neck while he held onto you tightly with his arm. "I'm-so close-

"I'll make you feel good" Bucky groaned, pushing you back up and slipping his hand between your bodies while you leaned back and held onto his thighs. You cried out as he found your clit, moaning louder with you and he toyed with your pussy.

"That feel good baby?" He panted, letting his thumb rub your clit in fast circles, your silky soft bud throbbing against the digit, "You look so pretty with my cock in you angel, cum for me, cum for me pretty girl"

It didn't take long for you to shatter around him, and Bucky followed right behind. He nearly sobbed as you collapse against his chest while he pumped you full of his load, not bothering to pull out long after his cock softened. Cuddling with you with his spent cock warm in your soaked pussy was his favorite part of the night. Nothing was more intimate than the both of you so closely connected, whispering sweet nothings while tangled under the soft sheets, the both of you falling asleep in the warm, cozy air of the hut.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hey, sex batman! i recently found out that im like, super into hurting people. like, Super into hurting people in a sexual context. does that make me, like, a bad person?

hi anon,

I'm not really interested in declaring who is and isn't a bad person, because I'm not a cop. let's work with something a little more actionable, like "what impact are my actions having on others?"

now, broadly speaking, many people would hear "I like to hurt people" and have the knee jerk reaction that that's bad a scary. but let's pump the breaks and consider nuance and context.

you know who loves to hurt people? my tattoo artist. she punctures my skin, makes me bleed, and causes permanent damage to my body, and she takes great pride in her work. I don't know if you've ever gotten a tattoo, but your body does very much react like you've been hurt, because you have. it doesn't matter that I sought out the pain and willingly paid for it; I was very much injured.

so does that make my tattoo artist a bad person? most people would say no, because she's only hurting people who ask her to do so and are aware of the risks, sober, and of legal age to consent to body modifications. she also follows appropriate guidelines to make sure that while she is hurting me she's doing it as safely as possible, minimizing the risk of infection or other complications that would cause me unnecessary pain or make my healing more difficult.

so we can agree that under these circumstances my tattoo isn't a terrible pervert unfit for society, right? she's a person doing something she likes to people who eagerly seek her out for exactly that purpose.

okay, now let's look at you. you want to hurt people sexy style. that alone is a neutral thing; desires are neither good or bad. thought crime isn't real. but if you want to enact this with real people, what's your move? are you planning to find people who want to be hurt sexy style (an abundant population, I assure you) and talking out the ways in which you could hurt them that would be pleasurable and fun for everyone involved? or are you going to hide in the bushes and assault people like a villain of the week on SVU?

only one of those is bad, in my book, because only one of those options involves victimizing another person and taking away their ability to consent to having sex with you.

so idk dude, I don't really believe many, if any, people are just fully irretrievably Bad. but a lot of people treat others badly. you can't really make that call based on sexual proclivities! there are people who use kink as an excuse to be shitheads the same as there are real assholes who only have married missionary sex with the lights off every other Wednesday. the only deciding factor is how you treat people.

and how you treat people is up to you!

[miifu666]

I remember you made that yandere post on wukong and I love reading it !! I was wondering do you have any thoughts on the destiny one or macaque if their were yanderes ? 👀 if not no worries ^^

Merry Christmas ‼️ time to show off Destined one, who i believe is scarier than the other two, like they say. The quiet one is the scariest. Also, a lot of you asked for DO soo sorry for the long wait 😭

⋆˙⟡ —CW: dub-con, Somnophilia, exhibition kink, Scent kink, Yandere, non-con, NSFT, Yuanfen name idea is from @mehiwilldoitlater , he's kind of disgusting here uhhh, Non-con touching

Yandere! Destined one

Unlike the other two, he's more of a monkey than them. The things he feels are 10x more worse, justified by his actions that he so called "courting you properly" even if its mostly just him stalking you throughout the day and after that, slowly building your own paranoia to work with him. Yuan fen would stay silent, even as you come at him with rapid eve movements around the room and heaving breaths. He's smart enough to hide how he's the source of all your troubles, your every rant about this so called paranoia thats been bugging you, the feeling of being watched and some objects going missing will help him to improve more on his skill.

"I-ive been feeling paranoid around here... please tell me im not crazy, Yuan Fen.."

Yuan fen is a silent person. His actions speaks more in volume. That doesn't mean he's not using it to his advantage, he's like a monster who's been under your nose all this time. The creature who hides under your bed, like literally. Or sleep beside you, depending on how both you travel. Haven't you felt how tiring your body is despite getting a full 8 hours of sleep? Also, why does your underwear get sticky? Are you that exhausted for your intimate areas to be so.. sore? You don't even wake up when Yuan Fen drapes his arms over you, snuggling closer to your nape until the sun shows itself. Uncovering the dirty deeds he did during his time with the moon and on top of you.

His hands are sticky as he continues to spread his musky scent into your chest, making your sleepy self associate his smell with pleasure. Trailing down his fingers down your hips, spreading your legs and pumping your hole with his long and kneady fingers. He's just making you feel comfortable, dont worry too much. On days where he knows you're lethargic, he'll make sure the sheets beneath you to be dry as he goes on his endeavors. Drinking and lapping up every single drop of your sweet honeyed love nectar, the more activities you do in the day, the more sweet you are in the night.

He'll make sure to be silent, aside from his slurping and gulping the nice opening you let him eat on. Eating you out is like his own way of charging his battery, his own personal ambrosia.

"Dont look at me like that! My hips and back are hurting okay! I thought i already put enough leaves on my side of the bed... ugh"

Yuan fen is a sweet mate, a good friend. He'll make sure to to spoil you rotten with fresh fruits he picked, he thinks about you 24/7, makes sure you feel loved with his oh so sweet gesture of being a gentleman, never letting you touch any doorknob or step on any puddles, Yuan fen who wants your approval despite the dominating attitude he gives soff. Yuan fen who notices you melt every time you hear his voice, each new words he said is purposely deeper than the last. Just to make sure he has you crooning over him while he worships you, an object of his desire with a favouritism of his voice? Oh he'll have fun with it.

Yuan fen who would speak to you more once he's face to face with your trembling thighs, making sure to growl the nastiest and filthiest things the moment his hands and throbbing member came in contact with your puffy hole. You'd be taken aback at how he says such vulgar sentence with a straight face, his eyes held the mad obsession he keeps inside.

"Its okay if you can't talk! Your actions are more than enough"

Yan! Yuan fen is an obsessive and possessive monkey who would do anything to mark you. Conscious or not, he'll make you his. He's smart enough to be the mind relic and quiet enough to do unsuspecting acts without gathering attention. He doesn't care if he's being clingy in front of Unclee Bajie, the celestials or even Erlang. Whoever has the guts to try and woo you, is going to enjoy the last 7 seconds of their life.

Is his hands being around your waist not a good enough sign? Is his smell covering every bits and crevices of yours not enough?? Does he need to spread you open in front of them to show who you belong to? He'll do so if it means they'll understand how unworthy you are to them, but not to him. Oh, never him. You're a perfect being, only fit to be his, only created for him. You're his one and only.

"My. Mate"

[avocado-writing]

Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to overhear his gn crush saying how they're sure it's unrequited love as much as they love HIM?

OH so soft! yes absoloutely, enjoy!

Astarion

now to be fair. he is a bit smug to overhear that you love him.

but he's also... touched? that you, lovely you, would feel that way about him?

obviously he's been trying to seduce you and everything, but he's pleased to hear that it's worked, but why does he feel so warm? happy?

maybe he waits until a casual moment between the two of you, when he feels like he can confess and it isn't too heavy, and he just lets out a little "I love you too, you know."

you stop. he can hear the way your blood pumps.

"...oh..." your eyes are wide, looking at the floor.

he takes your hand and it makes you look up at him, and then he brings you in for a kiss.

he can feel how relieved you are. and he's so happy to be part of something real, something requited.

Gale

overhears you and wants to say something about it immediately, but won't interrupt in person...

so he just uses a Sending instead.

"I hope you don't mean that, because I am desperately in love with you. only a fool wouldn't be."

you freeze and your eyes flit over to where he's standing, face as open as a book with his love for you.

you excuse yourself from your conversation and he follows, seeing how embarrassed you are, you tell him he wasn't meant to hear you, you just had to get it off of your chest...

he takes your hand and pulls you in for a long kiss. if you won't believe his words, maybe you'll believe his actions.

you melt into him. just melt, and the two of you stay together like that.

longest that Gale's been quiet for ages...

Wyll

he does interrupt, because he can't stand to hear you talk about yourself like that.

asks for a private word.

takes you to a seculded location and sees how uncomfortable you are, tilts your chin up to look him in the eyes, wants you to see the sincerity when he speaks.

"I'm sorry if I gave you the impression I did not love you. I do, in fact. most ardently."

he will tell you about the moment that made him fall in love with you, all the things you do that make him fall a little deeper every day.

as he speaks he watches the way your body relaxes, your eyes get hopeful.

when he finishes speaking you press your lips to his in a kiss, and it's the sweetest first kiss imaginable.

Halsin

he's an old elf at this point. he hasn't got the patience to let you wallow in uncertainty.

if he hears you say you love him, and he feels the same, he will let you know immediately.

finds an excuse to have the two of you be together. maybe to gather firewood.

when you're alone he will instigate physical contact - brushing your hair out of your face or something like that

when you respond positively, he will move to cup your face, look properly into your eyes.

"my heart. I need you to know that whatever you feel for me, it is reciprocated a hundred times over. you make my blood stir in a way I had quite forgotten..."

you should kiss him now. he will return it. the two of you will spend some time alone together in the forest, getting to know each other more intimately...

Dammon

oh, Dammon. he's so shocked.

him? you love him?

wants to make a big gesture but doesn't know how. probably asks Karlach for advice.

in the end he smiths you a special piece of jewellery and gifts it to you the next time you're together alone. maybe he even invites you on a date specially!

he tries to get to the point about how he feels but rambles on... eventually you reach out to hold his hand and it gives him courage...

he gives you the jewellery and sees your eyes light up. he offers to put it on you. fingers linger on your skin.

"you know, I lov..." "I know, Dammon. I know."

you can't stop beaming. he's never been happier.

Rolan

annoyed!

why can't you just be upfront with him about this! he obviously loves you back!

oh... loves you? hmmm. that's news to him. but of course he does! you're brilliant! how can't you see that?

has a couple of drinks one night for courage and then goes to find you. it is not an eloquent confession.

"I overheard you the other day! and I want you to know I feel the same way! about you! love, that is >:("

you stand there, fucking bamboozled, before dragging him in by the collar for a kiss.

he smiles so hard and you can feel it as your lips meet.

"silly boy," you sigh, fondly, and kiss him again before he can complain.

Zevlor

another old man who doesn't want to waste time.

he loves you. of course he loves you. there's no point hiding it, if there's a chance the two of you can be happy.

when he has a spare, quiet moment with you, certain nobody can overhear, he speaks sincerely.

"i do not know what I could offer which would make me worthy of your love, but I swear I will work every day until I am."

oh, he is so sweet. you collapse into his arms for a kiss. your strong, brave paladin <3

[konigsluv]

Cum for C (ABC series w/ Sukuna)

contains: true-form Sukuna, cum tasting/eating/swallowing

It doesn't matter where Sukuna shoots his load on- or in your body. It could be inside of you, dripping out of your hole, on your face, your tits, your stomach, even your ass when he fucks you and his second cock rubs against it.

-- He always expects you to play with it; whether you play with it between your fingers or lap it up with your tongue. It's just expected of you.

And today was no different. 

You were riding one of his cocks, bouncing on it- grinding on it in any way that would bring him pleasure. And it did because he threw his head back with a guttural groan as white creamy ropes of his semen shoot out onto his stomach, and inside of you.

You gasp, feeling your stomach bloat from the amount of seed he'd just pumped inside of you.

"fuck," he breathed, his hands falling from your hips and sliding down his face as he came down from his orgasm.

You pull off of him, your thighs trembling and so your hands as you could feel his seed seep out of your hole.

Sukuna then lifted his head, looking at you with a dark chuckle, "well? get to work, you know I don't like being messy..." he says and you nod, trying to focus as you kneel over.

Your tongue darts out, licking a strip up his pulsing cock that rest on his stomach before wrapping your lips around the head. You suck, trying to get the remnants of his seed out of his shaft before pulling off of him with a wet pop!

"go on..." he purrs in a sultry tone, reaching up and twirling your hair around his fingers. You cast a glance up at him before lowering your head to his stomach.

You lick up the creamy drops on his stomach, noticing the way his abdomen twitched with every flick of your tongue.

"does it taste good?" He asks, untangling your hair with his fingers.

You swallow what's in your mouth, "good- it tastes good my lord, yes..."

He smirks before grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head back. You grunt in pain but you know better than to curse in his presence unless he's fucking you.

One of his hands then swipes up the seed on his stomach before shoving his fingers into your mouth and down your throat.

You gag on his fingers, tears brimming your eyes as you sucked on them.

"ah, such a good girl," he says with a low laugh as he watched you struggle. He then pulls his fingers out of your mouth and you cough, wiping your mouth as you gasp for breath.

"I," you cough again, "I love your seed..." you say, grabbing his large hips and lowered your mouth again to lap up the rest of it.

Sukuna was taken off-guard from your actions. He never suspected a concubine to actually enjoy what he made them do, but you seemed different.

You swallowed once again before lifting your head to meet his eyes.

"you..." he starts then knits his brows together, grabbing your arm with a grip that made you wince, "lay down, spread your legs." he growls.

oh my, what did you do?....

please do not copy or repost on any platforms without my permission

LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED

[glitter-stained]

My very personal rating of every lazarus pit fanon side effects I've ever read, ranked from favourite to least favourite :

Tapetum lucidum (the thing cats have that makes their eyes gleam in the dark): that's so creepy and cool, eery in a more discreet way than a full-on glow, idk who hced that first but they are a genius

Contaminated blood laced with the lazarus protein: because our blood renews itself pretty often, this implies the existence of either a lazarus organ that continues to pump the lazarus protein in the blood, or, more probably, the contamination of one of the blood producing organs, maybe of the bone marrow, by the Lazarus pit. Like imagine the Lazarus Pit changing you down to the inside of your bone... The implications are so fascinating I'd love to read more about it.

Altered dna: this doesn't make sense, how does the magical healing pit change your dna, I love it so much, tell me more about the magic gatorade that rewrites dna

Accelerated healing/enhancements: what's funnier, that the pit gave Jason metahuman abilities like being able to withstand a meteorite and going toe-to-toe with Deathstroke (the wiki's words, not mine) and it was just never discussed, or that nothing Jason went through gave him these abilities that he really shouldn't have and he still does and it was just never discussed? I don't know but still, that stuff is top-tier

Glowing green eyes: on the one hand, eyes that glow when the person is feeling intense negative emotions (even better it's not just rage, like, imagine having a flashback or nightmare or getting fear toxined and their eyes glow and people think they're about to attack but they just scream that'd be so cool) but on the other hand, I feel like the colour is too limiting. Sure, Ra's or Riddler can fuck with the glowing green but come on, my girl Cass deserves eyes that glow gold (like the gold from the Batgirl suit). Jason deserves to have glowing red eyes. Cicero says that eyes are the reflection of the soul and while I love the idea of the lazarus pit being toxic, contaminating a part of the person's soul, in comics, a character's colour scheme is an essential part of their graphic identity, and I think altering it to the point of giving it a totally different colour is too much for my taste personally. Like, you are still the same person that you were before the bad thing happened. Yes, it changed you irrevocably, but you are still yourself and you should still have the right to your name and to the colour of your soul.

Lazarus Rage/Pit Madness: so I've seen this one criticized pretty often, often because of how unnecessary, and honestly probably damaging, to the understanding of Jason's character after his resurrection. And like, I agree, but also I've found myself to enjoy the fanon version of the Batfam. Like, I don't like that it's murky and confusing sometimes to figure out which is fanon or canon and that that leads people to judging canon actions from a standard of fanon information, and parts of it can be sexist or racist or classist, but the same can be said from canon, you have to be critical with what you consume. Basically to me there are two batfams and I consume both differently and enjoy both, and in the context of fanon I enjoy Pit Madness. The idea of uncontrollable, alien rage is fun, is angsty, and as someone with intense anger issues I'm telling you writing a lazarus rage episode was one of the most cathartic things I've ever written and it felt so good. I also think part of the upset on the subject is a bit undeserved because I see people complain that "the lazarus doesn't work like that because it didn't do that to other people" as if the way the lazarus pit worked made any sense. You're telling me this stuff healed Jason's malnutrition but it didn't fix his trauma? That it healed the Riddler's brain cancer but couldn't be bothered to fuck with Jason's hypertrophied amygdala and the fucked up connections between his amygdala and hippocampus??! Obviously we can't expect dc to know or care about science that much , but I still have the right to be nerdy about it. Jason went into the pit resurrected by God and with brain damage and Ra's said it was a plague and that could make him crazy, I fully believe he could have gotten Pit Madness even if the others hadn't.

Eye-colour change: that's the same thing as the glowing part but without the fun part, really dislike it. I need to be able to listen to I know these eyes/this man is dead from the Count of MonteCristo Musical while making up Under the Red Hood edits in my head please and thank you

Lazarus Pit brings people back to life: I hate it so much dc stop treating life and death so inconsequentially oh my gosh characters fighting life and death situations should not have a source of immortality right in hand I hate that lazarus resin lazarus toxin stuff they have right now and the idea that the pits can bring back to life plays into that idea so I really dislike it. I understand the appeal, it's the basics of coming back wrong with a side of rebirth in the water but instead of being purified it's being poisoned, but I just can't get over how frustrating it is to see a beloved character die and only be able to say I hope he doesn't come back for his own sake and then he comes back. Urgh.

[lixiesfreckless]

Deep | l. m.

part two: Deeper

➸ synopsis: you should not be here. not in this car, not at this hour, not again,

and especially not with him.

➸ starring: lee minho x female reader(ft. a mention of another skz member)

➸ word count: 1.2k

➸ general content: ex bf!minho, reader knows what a moral compass is and doesn't use it, they're both enablers in the worst way, toxic is the understatement of the century, car sex, angst, minho is a dirty talker lmaooooo

➸ warnings: swearing, cheating, sexual content

➸ rating: 18+ MA

➸ author’s note: I feel like I have to preface this fic by saying that cheating is never okay. in no way am I trying to glamourize it, I just like writing stories about messed up characters sometimes. that being said THIS FIC IS SO MESSED UP IDK HOW I WROTE THIS TWO YEARS AGO WITHOUT BATTING AN EYE like I fr pumped this out in a day and was like "I'm just a girl" yeah one that needs to be put into a straitjacket, tf?

♫ deep- summer walker, 너와- jaymin

The tow truck pulls out of the parking garage, trailing your lifeless hunk of metal behind it as Minho turns to you, hands tucked into his pockets.

“Thanks for…coming out to help me so late,” you mumble, hands busying themselves with your jacket sleeves as your eyes watch the concrete. He hums, not trying to draw out the already tense atmosphere. He knows better.

He knows why you’re so stiff.

You two situate yourselves into his car, and he’s asking something about how long your car will be in the shop, but you barely register it. Three days, you feel yourself say, but you don’t really know.

You don’t really care either.

“Who’s going to drive you to work until then?” He turns in his seat to face you. A small part of you wishes he hadn’t.

“I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.” You force yourself to not meet his piercing gaze, and thankfully he sighs, looking out the windshield.

“I’ll drive you.”

“You don’t have to-”

“It’s already on my way to work, and I already know your schedule,” he states calmly, ignoring the way your eyes flicker to his lips. “It’s nothing, really.”

You know you can’t change his mind, and you also don’t want to, so you press your lips together, not-so-unintentionally wetting them as you did so.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t sweat it.”

There’s a faint hum in the car. Minho hasn’t clicked it into gear yet. There’s a little red symbol blinking on his dashboard and you figure he’s overdue for an oil change. Someone is walking out to a dumpster a ways away from his car, and your ears barely pick up the way the lid slams when the worker carelessly lets it drop. Minho is mindlessly rubbing the leather on the steering wheel. He doesn’t normally do that.

You thought those details would be enough to distract you.

But it’s never enough.

Nothing is ever enough if it’s not Lee Minho.

He lets out a small breath of air, and you can see the frustration in his eyes as he quickly checks the surroundings. The small voice in your head screams at you, because you know you shouldn't be here like this, but he turns back to you and squanders the remaining sanity in your brain as he leans into your face.

And it’s hot and desperate and fast, the way your lips move against each other, the way your hands fist in his hair and grab at his collar, the way one too many curse words slip out of his mouth; but there’s no time to think about that, not when his hands are on you, igniting a fire that you’ve tried to put out time and time again.

And it’s dizzying, the way he tears himself away from you after a few seconds of sinful bliss, because the guilt rocks your entire body like a boat caught in a summer storm, and you’re not used to dealing with the consequences of your actions this soon.

“We can’t,” he pants, “we can’t keep doing this.”

You stare at him, shirt slightly crushed where you had gripped him from earlier and hair an absolute mess, and despite how enticing as he looks you nod, because he’s right.

You can’t.

Unfortunately you’re a pair of liars.

And it’s not even you who pulls the other back in, how ironic.

You take it upon yourself to move into a more comfortable position, one that lands on his lap, and he exercises his restraint for a few moments more before his hands land on your hips, helping you move faster over the gear shift.

Maybe you’re moving too fast but you can’t help it, his hips are positioned under yours just right and it’s not long before you’re grinding down against him. You expect him to hold you off of him and call it quits, not groan into your mouth and hold you closer like he’s doing now, and it takes every fiber in your body not to whimper back into his lips.

Your jacket disappears in the wake of his desperation, and there’s finally more skin-on-skin contact between you two. His fingertips burn with the knowledge that what’s happening is far from right, but the fire building inside you makes it feel like heaven, makes him feel like heaven, and you long for his fingertips to run under your shirt, where they definitely do not belong.

And they do.

So yours work their way to the hem of his jeans, tired of the leather that’s holding them together, and he breaks the kiss, hopefully to tell you to stop.

What he says next, unfortunately, doesn't surprise you.

“We need to stop getting ourselves into this situation.”

You look up from his belt, watching as the shame glosses over his eyes and you nod, feeling a pang of guilt rise in your stomach.

But the need between your thighs temporarily stalls the negative emotion, and before you can apologize for letting the situation escalate this far again, he’s the one undoing his belt.

At least you’re not the only one at fault here.

And the pressure between your thighs is finally satisfied as he lets you ride him, lips sucking on your neck hard enough to make you gasp but not hard enough to leave marks. For obvious reasons.

“Fuck baby,” he halts his trail of neck kisses, “if you were gonna take my cock this well you should have called me earlier.”

You wish hearing him say that didn’t make you feel so good.

He meets you halfway in slow, lazy thrusts, which makes you feel every ridge of him through the latex separating you two, and suddenly you’re crushing the fabric at his shoulders now too. 

“You like that huh?” With the way you clench around him, he doesn’t need verbal confirmation, but he edges it out of you regardless. “You like when I fuck you like that?”

“Yes-”

“Yes what?”

“Y-Yes Minho.”

“That’s my girl.”

Oh, how that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

You whisper something about wanting him to go harder, faster, and he’s compliant, seemingly not in the mood to tease you. Or maybe, judging from the way he was gripping you, he was just close.

The glass is fogging up.

There is a foreseeable end in sight, and you feel relieved, after weeks of not having any sort of real release. To be fair, last time was supposed to be the last time. As well as the time before that.

And the time before that.

But you chase away the guilt creeping up again with your own fingers, rubbing away at your clit with a determination that even Minho doesn’t have chasing his own high.

He knows how badly you need it though, so he slams up into you the same way that made you finish the last time.

Suppose there’s no such thing as a good time when there’s nothing good about what you’re doing.

Which is why although you want to, you shouldn’t complain about a ringtone slicing through the humid atmosphere of the car.

Both of your hips come to a halt, and it takes a moment for your brain to recognize the ringtone to see if the call is urgent.

It is.

And the high that you were close to reaching comes plummeting to the ground as soon as you read the caller ID.

Incoming call… Jeongin <3 

[marshalllir]

Finally, thanks for the apology! It's a pity, of course, that you didn't create your own post, but continue to write under the artist's post (and write hate words to them for their work) and don't tag anyone so that no one will even see this post in the end. But I'll do it for you, don't thank me. @frankbigfan @kr9vorebeazt @dicktat @hostik

If you want to answer, answer my post, and leave dott-fox alone in a good way.

You apologize to everyone, but you keep insulting one of us. It's disrespectful and unfair, to say the least, and it would be strange to think that after all my posts, I won't defend they.

The freedom of one person is pumped where the freedom of another person begins. Of course, you have the right to do what you like (by the way, are you going to apologize for pdf content?). You're just being asked to get away from people and stop pestering everyone with your beloved Frank. None of us hate Frank, but the way you've been trying to shove him down our throats for two years makes us all sick, and some of us really started hating Frank because of this whole situation, which wasn't the case until now.

Read more:

There are quite a lot of works on AO3 and on the ficbook where Frank is mentioned, I know artists who painted Frank, yes, it was a long time ago, but the fact remains that there is content with Frank.

Creating any kind of fandom creativity isn't a snap of the fingers. It's hours and hours of work, hard work. You wouldn't like it if people came to you in comments on your art and fucked up why you don't draw Juan, Aitor, Williams, Brooks - any other less popular characters. So you stop imposing on people. Or, learn to respect the work of other people and offer money for commissions, rather than asking for free requests that no one is obliged to draw for you.

Popular ships in fandoms are a fact. Once upon a time, there were only a couple of works about Haiden, and no one knew about them. People were united by love and interest in them. Find like-minded people. You will not be able to impose interest on people. You will only alienate people from yourself by such behavior. It's normal that a particular ship or character doesn't find popularity, and it's stupid to get mad at it. Make content yourself or pay money to other people, respecting their time and work, if you can't do it yourself.

You don't need to hide behind your problems with interacting with society. None of us hide behind diagnoses, for example, and you shouldn't try to make yourself a victim. Everything that is happening now is just the result of your actions. Accept it and stop fidgeting like you're in a frying pan.

Don't judge other people by yourself, especially their age. Absolutely all the participants in the conflict are older than you. Many are already of age, and some are well over 20 years old.

And yes, no one called you names or got personal. We didn't bully you. We only pointed out your actions and words without touching your personality in any way. So don't lie that someone told you to "fuck you bitch idiot" or attach screenshots where someone actually did it.

~~~

Наконец-то спасибо за извинения! Жаль конечно, что ты не создала свой собственный пост, а продолжаешь писать под постом художника (и писать ему слова ненависти за его творчество) и никого не тэгать так, что этого поста в итоге никто даже не увидит. Но я сделаю это за тебя, не благодари. Если хочешь отвечать, отвечай под мой пост, по-хорошему отстань от dott-fox.

Ты извиняешься перед всеми, но продолжаешь оскорблять одного из нас, это мягко говоря неуважительно и несправедливо и странно было бы считать, что после всех моих постов я не буду его защищать.

Свобода одного человека закачивается там, где начинается свобода другого человека. Конечно ты имеешь право делать то, что тебе нравится (кстати ты собираешься извиниться за пдф?). Тебя лишь просят отстать от людей и перестать приставать ко всем со своим любимым Фрэнком. Никто из нас не ненавидит Фрэнка, но от того, как настойчиво ты пытаешься два года запихнуть нам его в глотку - нас всех уже от этого тошнит, а некоторые действительно начали ненавидеть Фрэнка из-за всей этой ситуации, чего не было до этого момента.

На АО3 и на фикбуке достаточно много работ, где упоминается Фрэнк, я знаю художников, которые рисовали Фрэнка, да, это было давно, но факт остается фактом, контент с Фрэнком существует.

Создание любого фандомного творчества это не щелчок пальцев, это часы и часы работы, это труд. Тебе бы не понравилось, если бы люди приходили к тебе в комментарии к артам и доебывались, почему ты не рисуешь Хуана, Айтора, Уильямса, Брукса - да кого черт возьми угодно. Вот и ты перестань навязываться людям. Или же научись уважать труд других людей и предлагай деньги за коммишки, а не проси бесплатные реквесты, которые никто не обязан тебе рисовать.

Популярные пейринги в фандомах это факт. Когда-то и о хэйденах была всего пара работ и никто не зал о них. Людей объединила любовь и интерес к ним. Найди себе единомышленников. Ты не сможешь навязать людям интерес, ты только отторгнешь людей от себя таким поведением. Это нормально, что какой-то конкретный пейринг или персонаж не находит популярности, и злиться на это глупо. Делай контент сама или плати деньги другим людям, уважая их время и работу, если не можешь сделать этого сама.

Не нужно прикрываться своими проблемами с взаимодействием с обществом, никто из нас не прикрывается диагнозами, например, и тебе не следует пытаться делать из себя жертву. Все, что сейчас происходит это лишь результат твоих действий. Прими это и перестань вертеться как уж на сковородке.

Не суди других людей по себе, особенно об из возрасте. Абсолютно все участники конфликта старше тебя, многие уже совершеннолетние, а кому-то далеко за 20 лет.

И да, никто тебя не обзывал и не переходил на личности. Мы тебя не буллили, мы указывали лишь на твои действия и слова, никак не трогая твою личность. Так что не надо врать, что кто-то говорил тебе «fuck you bitch idiot» или прикрепляй скрины, где кто-то действительно это сделал.

[velvees-archive]

Tags: Love Confessions, Getting Together, Found Family, Miles POV, Insecurity

and more!

this is my day 16 submission for @fictober-event, and my late contribution to unnecessary feelings day…which passed two days ago. woops!

Prompt: “No, I’m not okay”

inspired by my tumblr post here!

An errant strand of jet black hair bobs to and fro as he pores over Miles’ face. "Edgeworth? You with me?" He’s surrounded by an emulsified blurb of noises: easy laughs, accompanying shouts, a beat. Miles isn’t feeling quite up to a lengthy conversation about his rationale, not when he’s insisting to himself that Wright is happy, he is happy, that the fire brewing inside of him is a fluke, and that perhaps it was time for him to move forward with his therapy sessions— “I was asking why you did it.” If he were to tell Wright that he already knew the answer: that he'd been spurred into action due to his creed and his pursuit of justice, he knows he’d only be propagating a half-truth—a secret by omission. In other words, a lie. “I wanted to help you,” he says, earnestly. Wright's shoulders rise and fall, an even rhythm. He takes a deep breath in, and the silence scatters. “Why?” - Miles Edgeworth does not long for more than he’s already been given. Sometimes, though, he thinks about it.

a few days ago, i proposed that narumitsu hits even harder when miles is the one hopelessly pining over phoenix following his disbarment. i also happened to want to explore phoenix working through the “prosecutor miles edgeworth chooses death” fiasco in jfa.

hence, this fic.

fic screenshots:

misc commentary/musings under the cut! :)

one day, i’ll stick a fic landing. it won’t be today, but one day...

very fun idea that became more convoluted as i tried to parse through dialogue, leaving me with 3 pages of unused scenes and dialogue exchanges. i can’t tell if i really hate this fic or really really hate this fic. regardless, it’s out there now, so no takebacksies :)

i’m happy with how the setting came out though! purposefully isolating miles from the rest of the group while they were in the karaoke bar was dirty work on my part but necessary for setting the tone of the story. phoenix is a bit mean here but i think that smarminess is integral to phoenix wright, especially when he’s confronted with his repressed abandonment/dependence issues.

did i sacrifice characterization for liberal dialogue choices though? absolutely!

about the title. it was originally supposed to be called “kill the lights” but i switched it to save me a seat because i think it gets the point across better!

i still don't think i've gotten the angst worms out, mostly because this fic doesn't follow my narumitsu getting together hc + the way i feel their characters are in canon. miles is a bit too self aware and eloquent w his feelings, while phoenix is too nice and too mean at the same time. there's always the next fic tho, thankfully! and maybe once i’ve gotten characterization down, i can share my actual hc

i have a few other fics i want to pump out before i start playing the great ace attorney and my lack of object permanence catches up on me. i’m thinking of making a low stress fic (lie, writing is never low stress for me) from an outsider’s pov. you’ll never guess who the outsider is tho, i promise

[marilynthornhilllover]

When you call my name. Do you think i'll come running? {Part 2}

+ if we were meant to be we would have been by now.

+with the fire that you started in me, but never came back to put it out. Watch my heart burn.

Warning: indecent language, slow burn, sadness, grief, anger/rage, frustration, insomnia, confused, death, fear, forgivness,fluff. Sorry if this is a bit long😭

Want to read part 1? : Part 1

You woke up the next morning feeling completely cold, you were shivering like crazy. You were positive you didn't have a cold. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and sat up in bed. You sighed as you looked over at the time. Only 30 minutes to get ready. You groaned as you got up and stretched. You walked over to the bathroom and showered. When you returned from the bathroom you saw winter clothes in a bag waiting for you along with a note.

- good morning y/n, I trust you slept well, first nights were hard for everyone, my dear. The lady wishes to speak to you. - headmaiden Elizabeth sepol.

You half smiled at the letter and threw it in the bin. As you were getting dressed you couldn't help but wonder why on earth lady dimitrescu would want to speak with you. There was no reason for her to speak to you. You sighed and walked out your room locking it behind you. You noticed that everyone was dressed the same, probably because of the weather conditions.

You walked towards the elevator, watching as Leah and her small group of friends are giving you dirty looks.

" she's gonna be the lady's next bottle of wine soon girls. She'll call it the 'clumsy newbie" Leah whispered playfully causing the other girls around her to laugh.

"And the only reason why your probably still here is because the lady doesn't like drinking idiots blood" a voice rang from behind you. You turned to see a girl that looks like Leah glaring at her. They're probably sisters you thought to yourself.

" the fuck you just say to me bitch?" Leah spat walking towards the girl behind pushing you away. You saw Leah swing her fist at the girl and the other girl pulling her hair before someone pulled you into the elevator. You yelped as the doors shut. You turned around to see Sarah.

" it's better to not be there while their fighting or you'll get framed as a participant, which is pretty fucked up if you ask me" she chuckled. You liked Sarah, she was brunette with beautiful green eyes, perfect lashes, good eyebrows, pump lips and she was around 40. You wanted to look like her when you get to her age. She was absolutely breath taking. She was also very kind. You'd say kinder than Elizabeth.

"Does the lady punishes them?" You asked noticing how she's dressed in her usual attire.

" no, but the guards does, their like the police around here. You get into a fight and your thrown into the 'dark room' for 48 hours, no food, no water and no light. The lady says it helps them think about their actions" Sarah said chuckling as she fixed her hair.

Of course alcina wants everyone to think about their bad actions but what about hers. She's trying to play goodie too shoes and she murders people. And has the audacity to tell people to 'think about their actions'. She has to be a maniac.

" so why aren't you dressed like us?" You asked her.

"I can handle the cold darling, unlike some people" she responded, mumbling the last 3 words. You wanted to ask her what she means but another question crosses your curious mind.

"How long have you been working here?" You asked turning back to face her. You could see that the question brought up memories for her, and not the best ones.

" quite some time.... for as long as i can remember honestly" she said coldly, looking down at the floor.

" I'm sorry, if I overstepped " you said softly, she looked at you quickly and shook her head reassuring you it's ok. She heard the way your voice cracked, she knew there was something else bothering you. She gently placed her hand on the lower part of your back, rubbing it slightly.

" don't pay Leah any mind y/n, she's like this with every newbie. As crazy as it sounds she's actually looking out for you. Making sure you don't slip up more than you need too. We've all seen some fucked up shit go on in here, and hate if it happened to you too" she spoke Truthfully, smiling. But it didn't reach her eyes.

You couldn't help the questions from coming. You had to know.

"Did lady dimitrescu killed your parents? Lover, friend maybe?" You asked narrowing your eyes. You can see that the question caught Sarah off guard, it stabbed her brutally, your question hit her like a Breck wall. And in her reaction you found your answer, though you didn't know which it was, but you knew lady dimitrescu killed someone she loved more than herself and the wound most definitely still hurt.

Sarah tried her best to keep her tears at bay, flash backs were all she saw now. She wasn't mad at you, but at no one. What happened was a long time ago and it was an accident.

"I'm sorry, i- I definitely overstepped now, I'm s-" she cut you off by caressing your cheek.

"Lady dimitrescu is a good lady y/n... despite all the fucked up things she's done and still do in the history of the universe... she's a kind heart woman, never forget that" Sarah spoke, voice breaking. The elevator ding and the doors opened to the hall of lady dimitrescus private headquarters.

You stepped out and looked back at Sarah who had a soft smile on her face.

" she's good" she whispered before the doors closed again. You couldn't help but stand there. Frozen. This was all so confusing. Did lady dimitrescu kill every maids lover? Parents?...And even if she did they still have the heart to work for her?. Are theses people nuts you thought to yourself. How can she be good. After all thoses lives she took. She's still good. Why.

There's so much back story to everything here at the dimitrescu castle and you wanted to know everything. Even if it's too painful to handle. Because what goods does alcina do that covers all of her bads. You realized you've been standing in the same spot for 5 minutes now and decided to head to the lady's study.

On the door laid a gold plate. Countess Alcina dimitrescu. Above had four torches and the dimitrescu coat of arms in sliver.

"She's a good woman" echoed in your head over and over again. You missed the lady's voice when she said enter that you just pushed the door and go in. Praying that she said to enter. As you entered the heat radiating from the room hit your body.

The lady's study was beautiful. Everything was made of fine gold or perfect chiped wood. Her study screamed royalty or even old money vibes.

Your eyes flicked around the room, admiring everything. How it's all well put together and neat. You didn't notice the lady's preying eyes on you. She found your admiration intriguing and adorable. You were different from the rest maids. No maid as ever looked at her office the way you do. She was curious about you, and she was willing to take her time and find out more about you.

" tell me when your finish draga" she spoke. You immediately snapped out of your trance and looked over at her. She was looking through papers and now and then looking up at her computer, her reading glasses on the bridge if her nose and the blue light from, the computer creating a beautiful hue on her face. She looked eternal. You traced back to her words, "tell me when your finish draga". Her voice was so soft and elegant.

How was she not mad at you for wasting her time? You took a seat in a chair infront of her desk and looked at her carefully.

" you requested my presence, my lady. You wished to speak with me?" You asked, watching as she looked up but not to look at you but at her computer. Last night she only wanted to look at you and now she refuses to look at anything that has you in it.

The silence began to get awkward. She could feel the nervousness radiating off you and your heart beat increasing by the second. She finally decides to look up at you. Staring into your soul over her reading glasses. You were fidgeting with your coat and bouncing your leg, you mouth slightly agape letting out cold air.

" do I scary you y/n?" She asked, sliding her chair out from her desk and clasping her hands together. You looked up at her to see her already looking at you. She wanted to know everything about you but she kept her questions at bay. She regrets not getting a record book from you when you signed up for the job. She has record books for everyone except for you. Maybe if her younger brother Karl didn't play with her head the day you sighed up she would now know alittle bit about you. How she hated Karl more now...

" Your a very.... your one of a kind my lady. Your not very different from us humans.... I think what do makes you different though is very fascinating.... it makes you special and with that specialty my lady comes great fear from others because we know what your capable of" you spoke bravely. You didn't know where you found the words to answer her question. You just spoke from your heart and you were happy.

" so no my lady I'm not scared of you..... I'm sacred of the power you hold. There's a different...." You spoke again. Alcina's mouth opened to say something but she quickly closed it. Processing the spectacular answer you just gaved her. The more she looked at you the more curious she became. Why aren't you like the other maids. What makes you different. It surely isn't your bravery..... no it's something more.

You were like gold in her eyes. Treasure. A valuable asset in her life now. No maid as every answer her question like that. It was always no my lady although they're clearly lying or yes my lady. No one has every gaved a answer like yours. In you she found hope. You were special.

After looking at you for some time she spoke up.

" Well then, today I need you to grab some wood from the forest. It's going to be cold tonight and unlike some, others can't handle it" she spoke firmly. She was the second person to say that to you. Who were they referring to you really had no idea.

" with all due respect my lady I'm new I don't know much as yet do you really think that's the best idea" you said slightly leaning over her desk. Lady dimitrescu raised her eyebrow and narrowed her eyes at you. She slowly stood from her chair and leaned close to your face, towering over you. Your lips not even centimeters away from touching. You couldn't help your eyes when they flicked down to her cleavage.

She took your jaw into her hand and raised your face up, making you look into her eyes. Her pupils were dilated and there was some dark mystery in them. You've never been this close up to her. Looking into her eyes was like looking at the ocean. It was pure but dangerous. How the fuck is she so pure and she kills innocent people.

" don't be smart mouth with me little girl. I admire you. But your smart right? You'll figure it out" she spoke dominantly eyes darting down to your lips. They stayed there for a while before grazing back at your eyes. She just met you yet she felt herself wanting to say 'I love you'. love was a word she used to say years ago. Words that held strong feelings. But since life dropped her like a sack of potatoes she no longer found hope in thoses words.

She would only say them to her daughters. But deep down she didn't even know if she meant them. She was broken for so long, been in darkness for over centuries. And now you stepped into her castle. Into her life. She was beginning to see light.

And you couldn't help but feel sorry for her. She wasn't the monster everyone said she was. No she's a mother. Someone who taught their life was worth more, going to be more. Before the rain of darkness started and never ended.

She saw sympathy and pity in your eyes. She saw..... love? She let go of your jaw and proceeded back to her seat. She placed her reading glasses back on her face and went back to her papers and computer.

" when you returned, inform me so I know you didn't die. Oh and close the door on your way out" she spoke coldly. You heart whinced at the tone of voice. You wished she could stop shouting people out. You looked at her one last time. She wasn't helpless at all.

You sighed as you left and close the door behind you. Alcina let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding and closed her eyes for a moment. Rubbing her temple.

You walked back down the alley way and into the elevator. While the doors were closing you saw a fly come out the the peak hole of the lady's office. You narrow your eyes at it. Looking at how it flew wildy. Soon it flew right up to the door right before it was going to close and you heard"BOO" you screamed and it laughed. The fly literally laughed.

" CASSANDRA!" You heard alcinas voice yell and the fly quickly turned into a girl. Her daughter. You looked at her in awe. She smirked at you before turning into a fly again and disappeared. The doors shut and the elevator started to move.

~

You grab an axe from the storage unit and open the door to go outside.

" wow where are you going princess, there's a snow storm passing. The wind will blow you away" spoke a voice from behind you. You turned around to see the same girl from earlier who defended you against Leah. She looked good. Like she never got into a fight.

You smiled softly at her.

" aren't you supposed to be in the 'dark room?" You asked and she chuckled slowly making her way towards you. She gently placed her hand on your shoulder, looking at you intensely while biting her lip.

" I'm emily by the way, you must be y/n" she spoke giving you her hand to shake. You gladly took it and shook it.

" because of the storm tonight everyone needs to be on duty to protect the girls so they can't have anyone in dark room" she said Slightly shivering as the wind blew inside. You quickly closed it and raised an eyebrow.

" who girls?" You asked Dumbly every maid and worker was a female but you needed to know exactly who she was referring to.

" the lady's daughters. They can't survive in the cold, hence the reason why there're always in their rooms. It has to be really hot for them or they'll die. Think of it as a allergy. That's why the lady is so freaked out. They say she's been trying to work on a cure for them for years but mother miranda stopped it, said she didn't care. But hey you didn't hear this from me ok?" She said looking at you seriously. This was one background story unlocked and you were itching to find out more.

"Yeah of course I mean I'm no snitch. Who's mother miranda?" You asked and emily shush you and pulled you into a little corner.

" she's just a random bitch who the black god blessed with very powerful powers and rules the village. I heard she's heartless. She kills for fun. Also she's very close with the lady, disrespect the lady you disrespect her. No bad deeds goes unpunished by her. She's not as friendly as alcina trust me. But as time goes by you'll find out more." She whispered.

You were completely stunned by who this miranda woman was. You never heard of her before. And now you heard who she was, you couldn't help but think if lady dimitrescu was the person you saw kill your friends. You felt so confused. You didn't even notice that emily was still talking.

" Hello? Earth to y/n. I asked where your going?" She asked looking at you weirdly, you were so lost in thought.

" I gotta go, um to get wood for the fireplaces, I'll be back" you said re-opening the doors to go outside.

" ok, don't let the lycans bite" she chuckled, closing the door behind you. You turned around quickly. Don't let the what bite?. You sighed as you opened the fence gate and walked out into the forest. You picked up some wood that fell from the weight of the snow and threw them into the barrel.

You saw someone running towards your direction in the distance and you narrowed your eyes.

" what the fuck?" You whispered, your teeth slightly chattering from the cold. As the figure came a little closer you saw that it looked like a zombie. You let out a very loud high pitched scream making the creature smile wickly and apparently run faster. You kept screaming and started to run quickly pushing the barrel with you.

You slipped and fell hitting your head hard against a wood. Your world started to spin, you couldn't even register the pain throbbing through your head but you knew it was there. You heard the creature get closer and closer and then you blacked out.

You woke up and quickly stood up. The whiplash making your cry out softly in pain. You looked around and saw no one. The barrel still had the wood. You groaned as you quickly walked back to the castle. You almost died. Your tried to remember what happened. All you could recall was seeing a zombie, falling and alcina being the last word to leave your lips, only person on your mind.

You opened the gate and locked it behind you, same with the door. The guards took the barrel of wood from you and you slowly walked up the stairs. Holding the back of your head. The world seemed blurred and loud. Like it was all just background noise.

" hey newbie, the lady wishes to see you" shouted a maid from the library door. You whimpered as her tone of voice made your head hurt more.

You pressed the elevator door button and got in. When you arrived in the hallway again you took your time and walked towards the big fancy wood door.

Your head finally feeling a bit better. As you approached the door you heard soft cries. You carefully stood aside and peaked through the space that was open. There was alcina sitting in her couch next to the window with her daughter. It wasn't Daniela, the girl you saw on the first day, or Cassandra the one who scared you.

This one looked more humble, more settled atleast you thought so. She had short blonde hair with black in the roots and she was wearing a black dress with a hoodie coat over it. Black lipstick to match and weird jewelry choice. She was all cradled up in alcinas arms crying.

" I d-don't wanna die m-mommy, I'm c-cold" she mumbled, alcina kissed her forehead gently she started to slightly shake her. She started singing a lullaby to her in Romanian while running her hands through her hair. She wiped her tears and lifted her chin.

" it's gonna be ok draga mea. I sent someone to get you and your sisters woods for the night. You won't die" she whispered a tear falling from her eye. You've never once seen alcina this.... vulnerable. Calm and kind. Under all that cruel act, cold heart she only just a mother..... a mother who cared. A mother who loved. A mother who provides. A mother who protects. She wasn't a monster. She's human. Maybe not like the rest of us, but she just like us. Because she has feelings....

Bela turned into flies and disappeared. Alcina cleared her throat and returned to sit behind her desk.

" you can enter draga" she shouted. You walked in and closed the door. You walked up to her desk and sat.

" how is your head injury?" She asked looking at you gently. She really does care.

" how did you know?" You asked. Shifting uncomfortably, her gaze was giving you goosebumps.

" I heard you heartbeat draga mea, I heard your scream, I heard when your heart beat went calm again. And I knew. I just knew you got hurt." She spoke softly.

" what are thoses things out there" you asked glancing at the window and back at her. She chuckled. It sounded so beautiful and relaxing.

" that doesn't concern you for right now, you won't be in they're reached" she spoke, looking over at her computer.

" Well it inflicted harm to my safety so i have every right to know" you spoke, your tone slightly high and powering.

Alcina looked at you shunned by your backlash but yet no anger formed in her towards you.

"You may leave" she spoke softly, picking up her pen she started to flick through papers. Why was she so nice to you.

" you know I was the one who got away" you whispered getting up to leave. Alcinas eyes went dark. She began to have flash backs. She whispered a small 'oh' and looked at you sorrowful. She regretted it.

" y/n-" she tried to call out but you were already gone. You didn't needed her apology, some how you already forgaved her. Now it's gonna take alot of convincing to make your mom cancel the plan.

You returned to your room and went to bed. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.....

Tag list: @willalove75 @ilovehugslikealotalot if you want to be tagged comment below!♡