#I can post the original here if you'd guys like

[rtfics]

Seeing BJ2 the 3rd time.

LONG & FILLED WITH SPOILERS

SO much to think about, and my memory is shit.

I rapidly scribbled notes during the film. But when I got home and tried to read them:

So here's an overview. I'll post other details if I ever translate my notes.

First, the casting was perfection. I'd never seen Jenny Ortega, Justin Theroux, and Monica Bellucci before, so for me they were the characters.

It was interesting that the film opens with the Warner Brothers Studio lot in black & white. Why B&W? It sort of sets the tone.

Donna Summer singing lines from "MacArthur's Park" was a foreshadowing. This film was made by a guy who was a teen in the 70s, and it's for others his age (he's only 2 years older than me). BJ2 is packed with 70s nostalgia that only those who were alive then would get.

This sequel was also made for die-hard fans of the original Beetlejuice. Burton took special care to give us the Winter River we love, but updated it to show the story and its characters aren't stuck in the past. The covered bridge is there, the church, cemetery, Miss Shannon's, and fire station are there, and so is the Maitland's building, but it's a coffee shop now.

Seeing Lydia as shell-shocked and pill-popping threw me, but the plot gave it sense (I'll go into detail in a separate post).

Rory, OMFG, I've known Rory. Anyone who's had anything to do with the entertainment/media biz, even peripherally, knows Rory. His "enabler" bullshit was so spot-on; faking that he's going to get Lydia off her dependency on drugs while keeping her hooked by making it seem that he's doing it because she's begging him. Classic user methodology. You just know he's the one who got her on "coping" pills in the first place; all the better to manipulate her. I loathed him immediately.

I adore what they did with Delia. It completely fucking made sense, and followed what's happened in the modern NYC Arts scene. I love how she and Lydia now get along, I mean, shit, Lydia's in her 50s and Delia's in her 70s, they're both middle-aged women, and, bless their hearts, the screenwriters and Burton made them act like grown women.

Astrid seemed older than 16 to me, but hey, I'm not around teenagers these days. I appreciated that she wasn't a brat. Her resentment and having her back up were appropriate for her family situation; a beloved father whose body was never found (I think); a mom always working or promoting because of Rory, doped on pills and famous for being a ghost-seeing nutjob, who can't see Astrid's father. That's a lot to deal with.

The way they handled Charles was perfect, especially his claymation demise. His afterlife body was comically gross, and an ingenious way of including Charles in the film without having to recast another actor, except for his voice. Charles being in the Netherworld provides a great thread to Delia's later death. His headstone being the shape of a shark's fin was a humorously grim touch.

The Sylvia Young Theatre School Choir sang at Charles' funeral, and their voices were beautiful.

Arthur Conti was fantastic as Jeremy (70s teens remember his grandfather, Scottish actor Tom Conti). His American accent was flawless. He was the perfect balance of cute and mature, and his niceness made his being evil all the worse; while Astrid says the incantation you can see him slightly out of focus behind her, smiling in a chilling way. I love that there isn't the slightest hint that he's a multiple murderer, and of his own parents! When he's about to get his passport stamped he shows absolutely no remorse toward Astrid, which makes his damnation all the sweeter.

Beetlejuice . . . . What can I say? Michael Keaton created Beetlejuice as we know him, and he fit right back in character as easily as drawing breath. His body language, his weird way of walking, his expressions, everything is just as you'd expect Beej to be. But then we get to see more! I can't express how happy I was to see Beej's origin story, which turned the throw-away line about having a pretty good time during the Black Death into something more substantial. Seeing Keaton as human Beej was a delight.

An important detail was that, even though Beej says his heart had long since withered, he fell for Delores. He says he was "bewitched." Perhaps not love, but lust certainly. It's quite clear that Delores was much higher in social station than Beetlejuice, so he must have thought he'd won the lottery with her choosing him. My god, his ego had no problem with his drunken ass being hauled to bed by his new wife, and his enthusiasm was huge. I love that they gave him the gut in his human form (Keaton doesn't have one).

Richard was the nice guy I hoped he would be. But it was telling that, when he says goodbye to Lydia at the ladder in the mausoleum, they don't hug. They don't even shake hands. It shows the truth of Lydia's previous statement to Astrid that she and Richard's relationship had ended long before his death.

Wolf is every 70s crime drama/movie distilled. Hammy, over the top, constantly spouting his Catch Phrase.

Why are there so many shrunken head guys? And why did Beej hire people who can't talk to answer his phones? It's loony and fits the Netherworld random login. They're Beej's Minions.

I've seen a lot of people on tumblr, as well as professional movie critics, say there were "too many villains" and that the plot was "too hard to follow."

For those who agree with this, I recommend you never attempt to read anything by Charles Dickens, Alexandre Dumas, Victor Hugo, Edgar Allan Poe's detective stories, or Agatha Christie. Because your brains would fry.

Look, there are two villains. Just two.

Delores poisoned Beetlejuice, he killed her with an axe in revenge, in the Afterlife she reassembles and hunts him down, killing others in her wake, which sets Wolf Jackson and the Ghoul Squad after her, until she's defeated with a sandworm.

Rory has been manipulating Lydia, keeping her doped, gas-lighting her, until under the Truth Serum injected by Beej he spills the beans and Lydia rejects him, until he's eaten at the same time as Delores by the sandworm.

As for "Delores and Rory weren't given enough story," what more do you want? How Delores joined a soul-sucking cult? How Rory became a user, seeking out vulnerable, grieving women to exploit? We learn as much as we need to. Anything more would have stuffed the film with unnecessary crap.

The only shit I didn't care for was the baby.

The whole Counseling scene was a big gross-out, and I'm sure Tim Burton intended it that way. The original couldn't have been more gross than it was or it would have earned an R Rating, keeping out everyone under the age of 18 (21 in some states; this was the 80s). But now, Burton could be a lot more graphic. I was stunned that he had Lydia go through the "pregnancy," but it obviously didn't hurt her. For me Babyjuice has no point. It doesn't advance the plot, and its reappearance only drives home the weirdness of the ending.

What the ever fuck was the ending??

Especially Astrid giving birth to the Beetlebaby. It would suggest Beetlejuice is its father, which means he and Astrid had sex. Which we can be pretty sure they didn't . . ? In the counseling scene Beej refers to the baby as his "inner child." So its not his literal child? Even so, why would Astrid give birth to it the same way her mother did?

I've read all the theories about the ending, and at this point one's as good as the other. Perhaps that's the point: To keep us all guessing. Because I'm sure, all along, there's been a plan for Beetlejuice 3, IF this movie was a hit. If it wasn't, if it bombed (since 2010 all of Burton's films have bombed), the ending would lead to speculation forever, to people writing fucking dissertations about its symbology and metaphors, etc.

But if it was a hit, which it is, the seeds are there for a third and final film. But so fucking murky no one can guess what it'll be like.

The only part of the ending I liked was Beej shaking awake and saying, as he glances at Lydia, "I just had the weirdest dream." And Lydia looking over. Not terrified. Not screaming or leaping out of bed. Not seeing the indentation in the pillow and yelling in protest. Just staring.

Do I want a third film?

I love Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. I love it more every time I watch it. I accept everything in it as canon, even the baby, resentfully.

But Burton might fuck up the last one. He might do things I never wanted to be canon. When a sequel is made of a hit film, the creators sometimes become self-conscious. BJ2 wasn't, because it'd been 36 years since the original. They had no idea whether this version would fly. Since it has, massively, I'm afraid the screenwriters and Burton may become too aware of the audience and try to cater to it. OR they'll go the opposite direction and try to come up with a plot they think fans would never imagine.

So I'm pretty much stuck in the same place I was before I saw Beetlejuice Beetlejuice.

[namesareweird579]

Hey Kestrel remake

[nonsensical-pixels]

as anyone who knows me will know, my house is a zoo i am a sucker for small rodents, especially guinea pigs and hamsters. last year for my 17th birthday i shared these deco guinea pigs, so this year today, for my 18th, have the natural progression of that post: a 4t2 conversion of @kaisosims' rodents pack! 20 new, modular, decorative fur-baby items & accessories for your sims to adore 🥰

everything that could have fitted slots has slots; the hamster shelf, notably, has a grand total of 15! all of the cages are stackable, i.e.: you can put the animals (which are purely deco) in them, then stack them on top of any other surface--the given ones, or a counter, study table, etc.! more info can be found under the cut 👇

this set was originally supposed to be my... wow... 1000 followers and 17th birthday gift. but back then my cc skills honestly kinda sucked and the slots + transparency drove me to insanity. over a year, 1500 more followers, and a mental crisis later, here we are, with the final product of over 30 hours of hard work! 👏 in any case, thank you all so much for 2500 followers!

tysm to @skittlesplays for suggesting this set in the first place btw, you know me so well anna!! if you'd like to see my other, mechtasims pet set, which i converted in her honour, check out my 1000 followers gift weekend starting here.

DOWNLOAD: SFS | MF 🐹

credits go to @kaisosims for the original ts4 meshes & textures, they are so adorable! and of course to all of you, for sticking with me through another birthday 💖

DESCRIPTION

Originally by Kaisosims for TS4. Converted to The Sims 2 by nonsensical-pixels.

THINGS TO NOTE

Pretty much everything that can have a slot, has a slot!

All cages can be placed on other surfaces, like tables, counters, etc.; if you want to place an animal inside of them, do that first, THEN place them on the surface.

Everything is decorative; nothing is functional… yet.

Art pieces are in the Paintings category, surfaces like the Cage Stand are in Surfaces -> Misc, and everything else is in General -> Pets.

You may note that some items have drastically different polycounts from the TS4 originals; this is because TS4 automates the appearance of backfaces, but TS2 doesn't recognise them, so I had to add my own.

ITEMS INCLUDED

Art (28 polys) Cage Stand (398 polys) Cleaning Supplies (424 polys) Ferret (682 polys) Food (100 polys) Guinea Pig (484 polys) Guinea Pig Enclosure (4356 polys) Guinea Pig Enclosure Top (1008 polys) Hamster (520 polys) Hamster Cage (1758 polys) Hamster Table (308 polys) Rat (456 polys) Rat Cage (2140 polys) Small Cage (988 polys) Substrate (144 polys) Treats (1876 polys) Tube (640 polys) Wood Wall Art (380 polys) Zoom Pet (341 polys)

20 items total. Collection file included for added convenience!

much love from my lil piggies: bethany, ivory, emily, and alex!! they're getting new cages for my birthday, just like my sims' piggies 🐽

once again, thank you guys all so much for the support! i wish i could've added more to this gift but i guess this weekend's content will be compensation... 👀 if there are any issues that you find with this set, please don't be afraid to let me know! otherwise, i'll see you in the next one. happy simming, and when you download this, do keep in mind,

Love, ~ Ky 💓

[chappellroansdreamgirl]

ellie with a mean gf!

(prjoecting like a mf rn...)

a/n - i have been very unmotivated to write full-fleshed stuff so i'm deciding to write drabbles/headcannons for now. also THANK YOU FOR ALL THE ATTENTION ON CH.1 OF GOOD LUCK, BABE! it makes my heart smile that you guys love it so much... also😭😭...: @sweetcici11 srry that i lied and said ur fic would be out a few nights ago. i'm really trying to finish it but i don't want to rush it and it be shitty. i really want it to be enjoyable and as good as it can be. but i PROMISE you it WILL be posted... sooner or later! i also have a few more drafts to finish too, so, i hope you guys like them when they come out!!!!!

content warnings - fluff, i'm a bitch and i want to feel loved and think that someone can put up with my cuntiness😝😝 , over-usage of commas probably, i think they're low-key kind of toxic?!?!?!?! , guys i promise i'm not this bad i've just been pretty insufferable these last few days and need an outlet 😭😭 .

i wrote way more than i thought i was going to...

------------------------------------------------------------

- you both hated each other at first. ...well actually, you hated her, and she was like, "😞😞" and then got used to it after a while and started being mean back 2 u!!

- dina introduced ellie to you when you both were hanging out with her. "you guys are going to love each other🥰!" ... you didn't 🤗 !

- ellie said hi to you and all you did was look her up and down, stare at her for a few seconds and then turn your head.

- everytime ellie would (attempt to) strike up a conversation you would give an overtly enthusiastic response or just stare at her like she had two heads or just blatantly ignore her. dina is over there like, '😟😟 . can we not have one good day...' when dina would leave for short periods of time and ellie was sure that you didn't like her, she would just talk about anything to get your blood boiling, our girl lllloooovvveessss to push buttons, we know this to be true.

- it got worse yet more tolerable after that. whenever she'd see you at gatherings or parties, you'd do your damnest to stay away from/avoid her. and she'd do her damnest to get you as upset with her as possible. it always ended with not-so-playful not-so-friendly banter!

- you were talking with jesse about something on the couch, and ellie came over and DELIBERATELY, DELIBERATELY... interrupted you 🤗 ! :

you shoot daggers at her face with your eyes, your jaw set hard and your eyes narrowed.

ellie tried to feign innocence, raising a brow at you after she looked over to see your facial expressions long after she felt them.. "what are you looking at me like that for🤨🤨?" , "i was fucking talking, you're being rude." , "if i have to get used to you being a bitch, you got to do the same." , you just huffed at her response and crossed your arms before walking off a few minutes after, realizing that the conversation you were having with jesse earlier was indeed over. ellie smirked to herself, victory was her's!

- she started calling you the nickname brat out of the blue... it blindsided tf out of you. here's the origin story!:

you look at ellie with a disgusted look on your face as she exhales smoke. her glazed over eyes meet yours before she offers the joint to you, out of genuine kindness. "want a hit?" she asked, forgetting how much of a bitch you were for, like, 0.2 seconds. you glare at her for a moment longer before plastering a sarcastic smile on your face, snatching the joint from her fingertips and dropping it onto the floor. you kept her eyes on yours as you stomped and smushed it into the ground.

now she remembered.

she stood up instantaneously, she was pissed. "what the fuck?!" she shouted, earning a few looks from some friends across the room. they strained their necks for a little bit before they saw you, it made sense now, and then turned back to the conversation.

you close your eyes for a slight second as a satisfied smile graced the corners of your lips. "you know i don't smoke, ellie." you responded with in a condescendingly sweet voice.

she didn't even argue with you. "you're such a fuckin' brat." she muttered under her breath before walking away. you had to try your very best to ignore the heartbeat in your pussy. (🤗!)

- she didn't get to see how much effect that title had on you that night, but she noticed afterwards.

- one time you didn't say anything to ellie during a hangout, distracted by someone you disliked more than her. ellie kind of missed it☹️☹️ .

you were brought out of your thoughts when you felt her cold hand touch your shoulder. when you noticed it was her who was doing it, you pulled back with a furrow of her brows. ellie smiled. there she was.

"you haven't said one mean thing to me since i've gotten here. are you dying?"

you scoffed as you pointed in the direction your anger was radiating from. it was a girl ellie saw here and there in jackson, sometimes she was paired with her during patrols, she wasn't crazy about her but she paid no mind to her existence.

"what?- what does this have to do with me-"

"what it has to do with you, is that you should feel honored that i can tolerate you... can't fuckin' stand that bitch."

ellie scoffed before speaking up once more, "oh, c'mon you're being dramatic. don't be a brat."

your eyes went wide for a second and as you turned away, she could see the cheek that was facing her turn an embarrassing shade of red. she found your weakness.

- when you guys started dating, no one, and i mean NO ONE, believed it. (i don't feel like writing how u two got together maybe if y'all like this enough i'll make a full-fleshed oneshot abt it😭.)

- joel saw you guys together... like, not arguing, and HER head on YOUR shoulder... he thought he got laced with acid for a quick second there... jesse felt like he missed a couple chapters and felt very sad that he hadn't caught onto it quicker... and dina was so proud of herself, "told you, you guys would love each other 😁." she's so smug, I LOVE HER!

- she constantly has to reprimand you like you're a child when you guys are around someone you obviously don't like for whatever reason. once whoever left the room, ellie'll pinch your shoulder or your thigh, whatever skin is on display at the moment, not too hard, just to get you to wince a bit. you'll make a face at her afterwards. "ow, what the fuck was that for ellie?" , "we can talk shit when we get home, don't make a scene🙄." you stress her out sometimes...

- just bcs you guys are together DOES NOT mean your attitude has gone away.

whenever ellie and you have gotten in an argument, you're always being extra sarcastic and EXTRA BITCHY just to get on her nerves.

"baby, have you seen my gun?" she asks you, breaking the silence voluntarily as she's two minutes from being late to patrol.

you don't look up to her, you keep on looking at the pages of an old magazine. "idk ellie, did you check to see if it was shoved up your ass."

she just stands there for a second like this 🧍‍♀️ , before sighing and walking somewhere else to find it. "i'll fuckin' deal with you later." she mutters under her breath, obviously annoyed. you smirk to yourself as you flip another page.

- she does love, however, that you've gotten gentler with her since the relationship blossomed between you two. very few people (dina and ellie... sometimes jesse.) can get you to stop, and ellie is proud of herself that she could add beast-tamer to the top of her list of many skills and talents.

- sometimes she has to calm you down, sometimes all it takes is a stare in your direction. ... well, it's oftentimes a glare... you're your own woman/person and a relationship will not restrict you from showing off your talents!!!!!

- ellie has to constantly keep you from getting into arguments that could harm you physically. although your craft of bitchery is amazing, you can't fight to save your life.

she'll be pulling you back like an angry barking dog on a leash.

"i could've fucking took h-" , "you overestimate yourself a lot, baby."

[dinogoofymutated]

THAT POST ABOUT CLEANING IN THE FLOWY DRESS? THINKIN ABOUT HANK? HNNNGGG PLEASE I BEG OF YOU

NSFW!Beast/AFAB!reader. - NSFW HCs! I was already on it when I got this ask heehee. These hcs were originally suppost to be part of another NSFW request I got for him but I was thinking about this too hard and comepletely forgot the actual theme of the req! So I decided to save it for later and just post it under your ask lol Anyway I need him my god. I was writing this while picturing watxm Hank but I'm pretty sure it works for any version. TWS: MDNI!!! smut under the cut. PNV smut. Eating out/head. Cum descriptions. Reader written with Fem in mind and also wearing a dress is mentioned, but overall no pronouns used. Creampie. Getting caught after the fact but not during the deed.

Okay, We all know that Logan has incredible stamina, and there's quite a few mutants that you would just expect that from anyway, but I'm 100% sure the one person that a good bit of people would NEVER expect to have insane stamina in bed is Hank. Like yeah he's nerdy, but dude straight up went to college on a SPORTS scholarship on top of his academic ones.

There is no fucking way this man has anything other than the most insane stamina. Dude is the perfect package of nerdy genius and athletic perfection. Can you imagine how long he could go on for in bed?? While you're sweaty and absolutely exhausted he's having the time of his life. Sure he's sweaty to but he's still. fucking. going?? It's like you'd been having sex for three minutes instead of four hours. He obviously gives you breaks and takes care of you, keeping you hydrated and such- but every time he begs you for "just one more". He's so gentle when he's gathering up your limp body and he's kissing your temples and forehead and massaging your tender spots, but he's a scientist at heart. He wants to know how far the two of you can really go, and he wants to know BAD.

I saw in a post somewhere on tumblr that he mentions that the one thing he doesn't have control of is his libido or something like that? It was from a comic snapshot so obviously this isn't even a hc it's fully cannon I don't make the rules.

THE FUCKING PHEROMONE THING!! For those of you who don't know, Hank was confirmed to have some minor Pheromone manipulation abilities. Like oh my god?? I definitely think that he will use it in sweet ways where he just wants some cuddles without asking you for them, but I feel like when he's hot and heated he just subtly does it without even knowing. Like he's super pent up one way and for some reason every time you greet him or pass him by you just start having more and more inappropriate thoughts about him. He'd feel so guilty if he catches himself doing it but at the end of the day, you don't really mind. Don't think too hard you beautiful big guy, can we just fuck already??

He will absolutely use his strength to hold you in any position possible. As long as you're both comfortable with it no position or hold is off the table for him. I don't think he'd be into BDSM or anything that has to do with hurting you, but I do think he's the type to read through the kamasutra and want to try all the positions to find the one you both enjoy the most.

He will fuck in the lab. He might do a whole "Oh my! Not in here, dear ;)" But most of the time he's instigating it! Sure he makes sure to lock the doors and everything but he's not shy when he has you splayed across his work tables, bent over you as he gently kisses and brushes his fangs over your skin. He likes how flustered it makes you.

He also cums A LOT. Like a lot a lot. He's most certainly got the heaviest balls you've ever seen, and they're not just for show. Every time he cums inside he causes you to practically overflow, and he's usually still cumming when he finally pulls out of you as well. He's a little embarrassed about it, and will clean you up very well because of that. He doesn't want you to deal with the sticky feeling of it drying on your skin, especially not if you have sensitive skin/texture issues. He is defiantly down to eat his one cum out of you though ;)

also, I think that he has a thing for long flowy dresses. I know there's a ton of dudes who say they like them bc of "easy access", and I know for a fact that Hank would find that sort of mindset disgusting. He just loves how beautiful and feminine you look in them, and also just happens to really enjoy the feeling of the fabric against his arms as he hitches up your skirt, his hands trailing up your thighs. As depraved as it might be, he also likes giving you head underneath your long skirts. He'd be apologising for being so ravenous and thanking you for letting him have you in such in intimate manner, all while giving you the most earth-shattering head. He's just so sweet about everything in the bedroom I swear.

    You swear you didn’t fully expect to be in this exact situation when you were getting dressed this morning. Sure, you knew exactly how much Hank loved to see you in sundresses and were definitely going for a certain reaction out of him, but you never would have expected to be pinned against the wall of his lab, his large hands cupping your ass and thighs as he holds you suspended whilst using the wall as leverage. His thick cock is pumping in and out of you at a quick, needy pace. He goes back and forth from biting his lips and letting his moans and groans ring out and echo in the cluttered space. You’d never done this position before, although you certainly knew that Hank had more than enough strength to pull it off. Still, you were sure that the image of him fucking you, hands beneath your long skirt as it bunches at your hips and drapes down below you, was certainly a sight to behold.

    “Ah- Please, let me know if this is uncomfortable in any way- nhg… I’m sure your anatomy is taking me quite… deeply, in this position.” Hank grunts, his thrusts deep and steadily paced in a manner in which he knows you like best. You smile at him, desperately trying to keep your eyes open as your hands clench and unclench on his shoulders every time his thrusts catch you Just right.

    “Is that what you’re calling it now? “Studying” my anatomy?” You muse. You wonder if he had noticed you catching on to the glances and stares he does when he thinks you’re not paying attention. You purposely poke your chest out as you mention it, and Hank huffs in amusement before he buries his face into your semi-exposed cleavage,  licking and sucking as he shifts your weight onto one hand as the other takes hold of your cheek. He puckers your lips, nipping at the top of your breast before he pries himself away, sending you a smug smile as he leans in teasingly close.

    “You know, I really think we could be using that quick tongue of yours for something a little more useful than backtalk.” Hank chuckles. He kisses you in a way that leaves you breathless, still holding you effortlessly even with a single hand as he keeps up his thrusts. His free hand drifts down to your clit as your walls begin to flutter and clench around him, a sign that he knows means you’re approaching your peak and fast. His kisses match the intensity of his hips as he closes in on his own pleasure. You cum barely a second before he does, his cum warming your insides as he cums, and cums and cums. He overflows your cunt quickly, and it drips down your legs when he pulls out. Hank makes sure to help you keep your balance when he sets you down, your legs shaking from your orgasm but also a bit numb from the position he had you in. He kisses you gently as you recover from your high, doing so over and over again all across your skin. The gentle touches make you giggle a bit. 

    “Had a feeling that we would end up like this today. Maybe I should wear dresses like this more often.” You hum. Hank chuckles deeply before drawing you into another sensual kiss, his hands stroking up and down your now-clothed body in a loving way.

    “I wouldn’t mind testing that theory.” He says when he separates from the kiss. You shake your head at him, laughing a bit more as you cup his face with love.

    “Of course you wouldn’t.” You say sweetly. Hank is smiling at you, his hands beginning to wander again right before the two of you hear a mortifying swish of the doors. Hank quickly tucks himself back inside his pants before the two of you instinctively turn to face the door where Logan is standing with a bit of a confused look on his face.

    “Logan! We were just-”

    “Hey, Logan! Nothing to see here!” Both of you are scrambling to fix the situation, utterly and spectacularly failing as Logan takes one sniff of the air and then smirks.

    “I’m all for a bit of risk, but at least lock the door, lovebirds.” Logan gives the two of you a sardonic wave before marching straight back out the door. Leaving both you and Hank more than a little mortified. As embarrassing as it was, you can’t help but begin to laugh, Hank joining you as you shake off the adrenaline of technically being caught red-handed.

    “Let’s go wash off before we have any other unexpected visitors,” Hank suggests. You agree wholeheartedly, your laughter picking up once again as he lifts you off the ground in a bridal hold to head to the showers.

[awxcoffeexno]

unholy

mean!loganhowlett x mutant!reader one shot

fic masterlist

summary: you work at a shady dance club that offers other services. logan is a regular but this time he decides to implement his claws.

content warnings: very very VERY 18+. MDNI. claw worship and knife play!! mentions of blood and cutting. logan is very very mean and he likes hurting reader because he knows she can take it. reader is a mutant and a sex worker. please proceed only at your own risk, this is pure degeneracy and very very nsfw. also, sex, piv, mild slapping, lots of sucking and mention of bruises (only from the sex). vaguely set in the 70's after stryker's experiment (mostly only in my head because origins logan lives in my head rent free). also cameo from blue from sucker punch as a shout-out to baby me.

word count: 4k. longest from me.

a/n: since my utterly disgusting thoughts rubbed off on a lot of other people and the last claw worship fic was quite well received, i went ahead and wrote an nsfw version. this is pure filth and his fckin claws will never not make me feel some typa way. i will not apologise.

it's sweltering in the club, the music pounding, and the air filled with rising smoke from the hand-rolled cigarettes in the patrons' ashtrays. your mind is buzzing from the overstimulation and your muscles ache from the dancing, begging for a rest.

you love every last bit of it.

a man reaches up to where you're standing and tucks ten dollars into the string of your thong. you smile at him flirtatiously and sway down onto your haunches so you can lean in and thank him properly.

you've been in the trade long enough to know that the better you thank them, the more they keep coming back for. you're in the business of sales, really; conversions are everything. this business is fast business—there's the wall street boys and the dance girls, the two most proficient sales people in the world.

the man grins at your sultry voice, rewarding you with another ten dollars and a hot kiss to your neck. this isn't a no-touch club and that might be your favourite thing about working here. men are more likely to behave when they're allowed to touch rather than when they think they're rebelling by touching.

your hair, damp from sweat, sticks to your forehead and it almost makes you sad thinking about how nicely you'd done it earlier in the night. real big and fluffy, just like blue likes it.

and just as you think about him, he appears at your pole. he runs a hand up your sticky calf to catch your attention and you slide down, knowing from his expression instantly that there's more work to do.

tina quickly takes your place on the pole and you thank her with a kiss to the cheek and five dollars from your string. it's simple courtesy, and an unwritten club rule. if you're leaving your post for higher paying activities, you thank the other girl who is covering for you with money.

"hey, babydoll," blue says in your ear over the music, sliding a hand around your bare waist. "big ol' guy's here for you. the one with the…" blue rubs his cheeks, "fluff."

"logan," you say, more to yourself than blue, and he tips your chin to him.

"ask for 200, and only let him bring you down to 180. you gotta make up the difference for last week, sugar."

200 is asking for a lot for the hour. your going rate is a hundred and that's only because you're one of blue's favourite girls and he brings you his best clients. but logan's been a regular for the better part of six months now and blue knows he can hustle him for at least 180. besides, you were sick all week last week and blue warned you he'd make you pay.

so you lean in and give him a kiss, promising him the money.

"attagirl," he smirks, tugging your mouth open with a thumb and slipping a pill in.

you smile at him gratefully and start up the stairs, the roar of the music fading into a hum. quickly spitting the pill out into your hand, you tuck it into your bra. you'll flush it down the toilet when you get to your room. blue says the pills make it easier but you hate how groggy they make you feel. in any case, you like your sessions with logan.

he's good for you, keeps you from floating off into the sky. you're fairly certain there's an old roman story about flying a little too high. or was it greek?

slipping into your little red room, you quickly wash up and change into a silk robe that you know will not last the night. not around logan. but blue keeps a steady supply of them coming so long as you bring him good money which you do.

once you've refreshed your make up and puffed on a cigarette, you press the buzzer, letting the boys downstairs know to send logan up.

his broad shoulders fill your doorframe under a minute, the warmth of his presence sending a shiver down your sweaty body. he's clad in all black formal wear that rather reminds you of a funeral.

"whiskey?" you offer, watching him sit down on the plush leather chair that most others don't even bother to notice.

logan likes it slow, taking his time to unwind and ease up before he takes his stress out on you. it's rather nice, your usual routine.

however, when he grunts a yes and you start pouring his whiskey, you notice that something's off about him today. his eyes are a little droopy when they're usually so alert. his skin paler than the usual golden tan he sports.

something's wrong and you don't like the feeling that settles in your gut at that.

you take the whiskey over to him and climb into his lap, offering him the glass.

"what happened?" you ask, your voice betraying the concern you should probably never feel for any client.

he looks at you and snarls quietly, "poison arrow."

fuck.

logan's not particularly well beloved by the kind of gentry that a place like this attracts or the people he crosses paths with regularly. this much he's told you before and he's nothing if not honest.

but a poison arrow?

fuck.

your recent knack for eloquence aside, you ask quietly, "and… are you okay?"

"m'fine. fucked my healing though," he grumbles, pulling the collar of his flannel to the side, showing you the ugly gash that stretches from his shoulder, disappearing into his shirt.

you and logan share that power, a gift really. accelerated healing. it's come in handy plenty to you and you're only a dance girl. you cannot begin to imagine how a man like him will survive without it.

he sees your cringing expression and barks out a single-syllable laugh. the sound breaks you out of your thoughts and you look at him, startled.

"look at your face, pretty girl. told'ya m'fine. it's getting better already," he says and his voice, though tinted with his usual casual condescension, is gentler than you've ever heard him. he's… reassuring… you? you think??

"now, c'mere," he downs the whiskey and uses both hands to pull you closer by the thighs.

and then his mouth is at your neck, and there's the logan you know. rough and uncaring, cruel because he knows your body can take it. knows you can take what he can never do to anyone else.

he savours the salt on your skin, running his large paws down your arms tucking your wrists behind your back. he likes you detained, pliant and ripe for the taking. his throaty groan on your skin in the dip of your now exposed collar bone makes the need curl in your core.

real need, not the kind that you summon with other clients. need that is amplified when he squeezes your wrists tighter together to make you quit squirming.

"lo–"

"shut up." he commands, licking and sucking down your neck and shoulder, and that's that. you snap your mouth shut immediately.

logan slips your robe off both your shoulders with his free hand and his teeth sink into the flesh in the nape of your neck hard enough to draw blood, making you cry out his name. he's exhausted and healing too slowly and he needs to use you as his stress ball and fuck you until he feels better.

you want to cry out, you want to beg him until he gives you what you need but you know better than to do that with him. your hips however rut into him, making him yank you back and glare at you.

"and who let you do that, princess?" he says so calmly, voice oceans deep and velvety smooth, that you don't realise for a second that it was a question. a rhetorical one.

you blush and it makes his lip curl in a patronising smile.

"oh, i'll give you what you need alright. all you gotta do is ask, sugar."

you want to remind him that he was the one that told you to shut up but that won't end well, so you oblige.

"logan, please…" you whisper, hands trying to readjust in his grip, grasping for a more comfortable position. "please let me have you."

"that just won't do. need me to help you put together full sentences too?" he grumbles, readjusting because he's clearly in pain. "say it like you want it. say you want my fat cock to fill your needy little pussy. say you want her to feel good."

logan's mouth is disgusting. the words aren't too different from what the other men that come to your room spout but on his tongue they sound particularly dirty. and apparently you like dirty because god fucking dammit… his words and his voice and his scent and his everything make your need for him desperately worse.

"please, please, just need your fat cock to fill my pussy, to stretch her out, logan." you grovel. "need my pussy to feel good, please."

"jesus fuck, princess. got quite the mouth on you." he smirks as if he wasn't the one to draw those words from your lips. "let's put it to good use."

he isn't going to let you have his cock in you to quench that need that easy. he always, always makes you work for it.

he juts his chin out, gesturing to you to get on the floor and you slip between his legs, looking up at him reverently.

you like him in your mouth anyway. you like the way he uses you just hard enough to make you cry but never hard enough to make you feel like you're drowning–unlike some people who come here, the ones that make you bury your face in blue's chest later as he lectures you about needing to toughen up.

but when he reaches our for you, his hand comes into your focus and it makes you gasp softly. the space between his knuckles, home to his claws, is bared open, dirty and covered in blood. the claws cut him open every time but heals immediately so it's never mattered before. you take his giant hand with both of yours to examine the wounds but he yanks it away. the back of his hand comes down on your right cheek in a sharp, firm slap.

"focus," he growls and you rub your cheek, eyebrows setting into a frown.

your tone is firmer than it is around him when you speak. "show it to me, logan."

he shifts in his seat, gauging you. he isn't used to hearing any form of authority in your voice. nor is he used to being taken care of. he cracks his neck, shaking it off and then leans forward.

"you wanna see?" he says, voice so low it makes your toes curl.

you swallow thickly and nod, chewing on the inside of your lip.

"then you're going to have to pay, princess."

your tummy jumps as he puts his fist in front of you. you're about to reach over to grab his hand again, leaning in close to take a better look, but out come his claws making you shuffle back in alarm. they stop at your lips, drawing a hitched breath from you.

"open your mouth, angel. it'll hurt too much if i push them in myself."

the old man has lost it.

"lo–" you start to protest but he's retracted all but his middle claw with a loud snikt, and is pushing the flat of the remaining one into your mouth.

the cold adamantium of logan’s claw presses against your tongue, the sharp edge demanding obedience. you part your lips further slowly, letting the flat of the blade slide deeper inside, grazing your tongue. the metallic taste is sharp, a reminder of the danger you’re playing with.

logan’s gaze never leaves yours, dark and unyielding. there’s no softness in his eyes, no hint of gentleness. this isn’t about comfort or care—this is about control, about reminding you who’s in charge. his other hand grips your jaw, fingers digging into your skin just hard enough to bruise, forcing you to keep your mouth open.

“good girl,” he mutters, the praise laced with a mocking edge that makes your stomach twist. his tone is condescending, amused by how easily you submit to him.

he begins to draw the claw out, then slides it back in, a slow and deliberate rhythm that forces you to focus on the sensation—the cool metal, the danger of the sharp blade so close to your skin. your breath hitches, a mix of fear and something darker curling in your gut.

“look at ya, angel,” logan sneers, his voice dripping with disdain. “so eager to worship something that could slice you open without a second thought.”

it’s as if he knows exactly how to push your buttons, how to make you crave his approval despite the cruelty in his touch.

his grip on your jaw tightens as he tilts your head back further, forcing you to take the claw deeper into your mouth. “don’t bite down,” he warns, the threat clear in his tone and you realise… he can feel it. he can feel your mouth on his claw and it's stoking the fire in him.

you nod as best as you can in response to his words, your eyes locked on his, wide and pleading. the pain from his grip mingles with the strange pleasure of submission, and it’s almost unbearable. you feel like you're on fire. logan watches you struggle, a twisted smirk playing on his lips as he revels in your discomfort.

“you like this, don't cha?” he taunts, pulling the claw out just enough to let you breathe. “you like being reminded of what i could do to you if i wanted. y'like knowing that i’m the one who decides how far this goes.”

he’s right, of course. you hate how much you like it, how the power he holds over you only intensifies the burning need in your belly. it’s humiliating and exhilarating all at once, and logan's reading you like an open book.

“now, let’s see if you’re really worth the trouble,” he growls, sliding the claw out entirely, leaving your mouth empty and aching. he leans back in his chair, holding his hand out in front of you, the metal gleaming under the dim light as the other claws come out too. “kiss them. show me how much you want it.”

your heart pounds as you lean in, pressing your lips to the cool metal with reverence. the taste of them lingers on your tongue, and the weight of his gaze is almost suffocating. but you do as you’re told, kissing the blades as if they're something sacred, something you’re desperate to prove your devotion to.

logan’s smirk widens as he watches you. “that’s it, princess. make it worth my while. maybe then i’ll give you what you’re begging for.”

the claw lingers against your lips and you tilt your head slightly, pressing a softer, more deliberate kiss to the adamantium, tasting the faint tang of blood and iron bloom on your lips. the edge is sharp against your skin and you aren't surprised you've managed to cut yourself. but your body takes care of you and the wound is gone before you even lick the blood away.

your tongue flicks out, tentative at first, tracing the length of the blade. you can’t stop yourself, your need to please him overpowering every other instinct. logan’s eyes narrow as he watches you, the barest hint of approval hidden beneath the hardness of his gaze.

“that’s more like it,” he murmurs, his voice quiet… tired. “show me how much you love it. show me how much you’re willing to do to keep me happy.”

you press your tongue flat against the claw, dragging it slowly along the length, tasting the cold metal. you wrap your lips around his claw and carefully start sucking the way you would his cock, making him groan your name. you cut yourself over and over as you suck but it bothers neither of you, the pain translating directly into the wetness between your legs.

“attagirl,” logan growls.

“thank you, logan,” you whisper against the claw, your voice trembling with need. “thank you for this.”

a dark chuckle rumbles from deep in his chest. “thank me when you’ve earned it,” he replies, pulling the claw away just slightly, taunting you with its absence. your lips chase after it, a whimper escaping as you realize how much you're genuinely, truly enjoying this.

“please,” you murmur, your voice shaking. “please, logan, let me have you. let me take care of you.”

he raises an eyebrow, the cold amusement in his eyes never wavering. “take care'a me? is that what you think this is?” he presses the claw back against your lips, harder this time, making sure you feel the point against your skin. “you’re here to serve me, princess. and you’ll do it how i want, not how you think i need.”

a shudder runs through you at his words, the sharp edge digging just enough to leave a thin line of red along your lower lip. your eyes sting with tears, but you don’t dare pull away. instead, you lean into it, pressing your lips against the claw in a silent plea for mercy, for something more.

logan’s smirk deepens, his other hand coming to rest on the back of your head, pushing you forward just enough that the point of his claw cuts into your lip again. you gasp at the sting, but the sound is muffled as he presses down harder, forcing your mouth to open.

logan watches you, his expression unreadable, but his grip on the back of your head tightens, holding you in place as you continue to worship the deadly weapon in your mouth. “want to take care'a me?” he mocks, his voice rough and dark. “you think that's what i need?”

you nod as best you can with the claw in your mouth, your eyes pleading with him.

but logan isn’t done with you yet. he pulls the claw from your mouth, leaving your lips wet with a mix of blood and saliva. you gasp, trying to catch your breath, but before you can say anything, he shoves the claw against your chest, just above your heart, the point pressing into your skin.

“thank me,” he growls, his voice a low snarl. “and mean it.”

“thank you, logan,” you whisper, your voice cracking with desperation. “thank you for your claws.”

the cruel twist of his smile is all the reward you get, but it’s enough. he drags the claw down, slicing through the thin fabric of your robe, leaving a trail of red in its wake. you flinch, but you don’t pull away, your body trembling as you try to keep still under his touch.

"been good, babygirl." he relents finally, watching as your wound heals. "c'mere."

he hauls you into his lap with ease, despite his injuries. you make quick work of his buttons and throw his black shirt open. your eyes snap up to his and then back to his body.

he's covered in bullet holes. five that you can count anyway. your hands reach for them but he grabs your wrist.

"m'fine. they'll heal. two already have."

oh.

so you plant your mouth on his, kissing him deep, savouring the tobacco and musk of his breath. he tugs you closer, hooking a finger into your panties and dragging them down your smooth legs. it makes your toes curl.

the sticky mess between your legs leaves a dark patch on his trousers as he goes back to sucking soft bruises into your neck.

and then you hear his claws before you feel them, the cold metal cutting through what's left of your robe like butter, pressing into the soft skin over your scapula. you brace yourself, nails sinking into his broad shoulders and he cuts the claws in, slicing you open.

"logan, please!" you cry out but the pain is only momentary, delicious and burning hot, before your skin stitches itself back up like clockwork.

"fuck… me," he gasps and you've never heard him so affected.

he undoes his belt with a practiced hand and slides it off, tossing it off to the side and tugging his pants down. quickly, you position yourself over him, sitting down with your head rolled back, sheathing him with your warm, wet walls. he's splitting you open, stretching you the way you begged earlier.

and then he resumes cutting, slicing your back open as you move up and down on his cock. you bury your face in his neck, hiding your tears of pain and pleasure in his neck as he undoes you.

he grabs your jaw when he notices you start to lose yourself.

"no, you pay attention, bub." he snarls in your ear, kissing you roughly. pulling away when your eyes are wide open again, he slips a finger into your mouth.

the salt and blood on his skin makes your mouth water and this is beyond fucked up but you regret nothing. you suck diligently and he reaches down and wraps his mouth around your nipple, making you suck a sharp breath in. you feel his teeth sink in and it sends a shiver down your spine.

your hands in his hair, you tug sharply, making him growl and switch to your other nipple.

"logan…" you whine around his finger, thighs aching from the effort of riding him through it all.

he grunts and takes his hand away from your mouth. both hands on your waist, he starts to fuck you like a fucking fleshlight, moving you up and down on him like you weigh nothing.

you hear a snikt and a claw comes up to your face, running down the side of your cheek and making you mewl in pleasure.

you only just realise how much logan's wound you up in the hour that he's been in your room. you're hurtling towards the edge and he's barely been in you for a few minutes.

but you've wound him up too, the nerves in his body alight with pleasure.

"fuck, doll," he groans in your ear, retracting his claws and steading you with his hands again. "not going to last long tonight."

fuck. blue is going to kill you for letting Logan go so quickly.

yet you cannot seem to care.

you mewl his name and pick up speed at that, panting and gasping, and aching to please. he feels the telltale sign of your edge in the quivering of your walls and yanks you down on himself, pushing you over the cliff.

it's like fireworks and butterflies and pure fucking ecstasy.

"been a good fucking filthy girl," he whispers in your ear, knowing it'll make you react around his cock. "lettin' me cut'ya open like that."

you press your damp brow against his shoulder, riding your high weakly but your pussy does enough to bring him to his climax as well. he grunts and wraps his arms around you, holding you tight down in his lap, filling you warm and deep.

he pants softly in your ear and you look at him with a giddy smile. you reach for his hand to press a kiss to his knuckles and…

his hand is healed.

and… so is his other one.

you pull back to check the rest of him and… they're all gone. all of the bullet holes.

a sly smile spreads across your lips and you look at him with satisfaction dancing in your eyes.

"took care of you after all."

he lets out a surprised laugh, eyes softening with something you haven't seen in him before. he pulls you back into his embrace, and this softness is new. nice, but new.

"yes you did, princess."

i need to be committed and lobotomised with logan's claws. blue would love that.

love, d <3

taglist: @techwrecker, @saltwaterburns, @lilaccmilk, @clevah-girlboss

divider: @rookthornesartistry

[shiny-jr]

Get you a guy with thighs bigger than yours.

- Warning: Gender-neutral reader. 

- Characters: König.

- Summary: Thick thighs do not save lives.

- Note: This came about because I was just talking crazy in the dms with a mutual. I originally wasn't going to ever let this see the light of day, but then I decided, why the hell not? If I get smacked with delayed embarrassment, I'll just delete. Yeah, I know this isn't what I usually write and post, but oh well. Anyways, after this, we will be back to our regular scheduled content shortly. Oh, and sorry for minor mistakes, I wrote this like at midnight.

. . .

You decided to put a movie on. Just for a distraction. After about an hour into the movie, the leather couch got a bit uncomfortable since it stuck to your skin. So you slunk down to the floor, bringing a pillow or two down with you to use in case extra comfort was needed. The movie was beginning to lose your attention, but you still watched the screen attentively as if you were still focused on the film's plot.

What ended up catching your attention, was the slight shifting couch. Well, slight probably wasn't the correct word, as the movement was anything but light. It was safe to assume the shifting was from a guy who was well over 200 Ibs and a few inches short of 7 ft, although you didn't know the exact numbers because you never wanted to ask König outright.

It was easier to hear the movement, as the large figure scoot a few inches over. Instead of sitting beside you like he was a few seconds earlier, he had not so discreetly moved to take your vacant spot and sit directly behind you. He tried to stay quiet, he really did, but it wasn't so easy for him given his size. At the very least, he treaded carefully, not bumping your back once with his legs or accidentally knocking the back of your skull with his kneecaps.

You didn't move, but your eyes slowly glanced downward, where you could see the tip of his boots. Custom made, as most department stores didn't carry anything in his size. Most articles of clothing he had were custom-made or bought in special stores, save for that odd black diy mask he often wore over his head like a hood to hide himself from the world. Too afraid to lean back and accidentally make contact and disturb this fragile peace, you remain still despite the slight ache in your lower back that make you want to lean back and stretch. But you don't. All you could do was try to revert your attention back to the movie and not think any unholy thoughts, that is, until you heard more movement.

To not bump his knees against you, Konig spread his legs a bit and leaned down. The edges of his homemade cloth mask brushed against your back as you stiffened up, and you could make out the shape of his head beside yours as he whispered, "Do you, uh, want some...?"

Yes. "What???"

"Popcorn? Do you want some popcorn...??"

Oh.

After deciding whether or not you'd accept his offer, silence ensued, only fueled by the movie playing on the television. You weren't gonna lie, you have no idea what the hell was going on in the story anymore. A solid minute passed when he spoke again, sounding just as unsure as the first time. He spoke, as if whatever thoughts he had on his mind earlier where left to simmer for long enough.

"Scheiße. Sorry, should I have not moved here...? You can still lean back if you want?"

"Oh, okay... I, um, I'll do that."

Your back was starting to ache a little from sitting up without support, so, feeling just as awkward as he was feeling, you leaned your back against the couch. Instantly, as soon as you did that, your peripheral vision was covered by his knees and part of his legs. The movie was pretty much pointless now, as you were currently wondering whether you should thank whatever gods existed or curse them for the fact that König did not have shorts on. Even without shorts and with specially fitted cargo pants, they could not conceal the insane bulk of his legs. Especially his thighs. Good lord. The two pillows you brought down before from the couch were essentially useless now because on each side of your head were his limbs that rivaled the best of My Pillow.

Think of something else, anything else, is what you tried to tell yourself.

That idea would go out the window as soon as you felt something in your hair. Carefully twisting a few strands, you felt some thick and calloused fingers gently try and feel the texture of your hair. But it lasted only for a brief second, as he immediately pulled his hands away and murmured a tiny bit louder from his whisper earlier, "Ah, sorry, I should've asked first. I should not have done that. I am sorry––"

"It's okay, I... don't mind." You shrugged it off, and much to your surprise and contentment, he continued.

The first few seconds had a bit more hesitancy, but as time ticked by, seconds turned to minutes, his boldness increased. It started with his large hands carefully feeling the texture of your hair, then it became slow brush strokes as his thick fingers ever-so-carefully untangled knots in your stands of hair. Until eventually it escalated, and he gathered the courage to do something so bold as to scratch your skull. He could easily take your entire face in one hand and crush your skull, but he didn't. There was no sign of any such roughness. Instead, his fingers and nails continued to comb through your hair, lightly scratching your scalp. At first when he did this, he paused, and waited for any objections or signals of a negative reaction, but after no such thing, he continued and seemed pleased.

It was after about five-minutes and heavy mental debating in your mind that you decided to suck it up and go for it. What's the worst that could happen? Honestly, you didn't even expect to make it this far.

So, after taking in a breath, you let your head fall to the side. It wasn't like those romantic scenes where you watch the character lean their head against a love interest's shoulder. Oh no, you were skipping that part, your ear landed right on his thigh. Which was probably due to the cushion you placed underneath you on the floor that elevated you a few extra inches, or else you might've missed. In that moment, right as the side of your head landed on its intended target, you felt him freeze. His fingers stopping, nails still on your scalp. A second passed, then two, then three, like time froze.

You were almost tempted to pry yourself off and apologize, but you really didn't want to. But you had to ask. "Is this alright...?"

"J-Ja... I mean, yes..."

Your eyes widened, and you were sure you had on some goofy kinda grin but at least you weren't facing him so he couldn't tell. Once you heard his response, your shoulders slumped, relieved of tension you didn't even know you were carrying.

Even with your head against his thigh that wasn't plush but was still definitely comfortable, you realize you were no better than a man as you resisted the urge to just reach out and squeeze his other thigh that had gotten closer without you even realizing it. You had to dig your nails into your knee to prevent yourself from acting on impulse.

It was definitely almost pure muscle from what you could tell with your head on one of them. Firm but somehow still soft. Thick thighs, in fact, do not save lives, because these thighs have ended who knows how many between them in finishing moves on the battlefield. Lucky bastards. Trying your luck agian, you place a shaky hand on his other thigh, but he didn't react. A good sign? Possibly?

Forget goth gfs and thick plush thighs, apparently giant anxious austrian soldiers with thighs as thick as tree trunks and strong enough to obliterate skulls like melons were the new fad.

Movie totally forgotten, your vision was entirely covered when König leaned down a bit from his spot on the couch and you tilted your head to look up and meet his gaze. The masked man stared at you, his blue eyes peering down at you through the two small slits cut into his mask for his eyes to see. His mask partially dangled, but not fully, so not revealing himself to you. When your gaze traveled away, abruptly his thighs got closer, squishing your cheeks and the sides of your face but not enough to hurt. Just a bit of pressure to get you to look up again.

Oh god.

There was literally no space between your face and his legs anymore, and your arms instinctively went to the outer side of his thighs to try and pry them apart a bit. You didn't try much, maybe because you enjoyed it or because you didn't exactly have strength strong enough to rival his, so all you could do was clutch the pockets of his cargo pants that were just above his knees, your nails digging in softly just to get a quick feel.

Once he saw he had your attention again after he applied a bit of pressure, he cocked his head to the side and continued to look down at you through half-lidded eyes darkened by the shadow of his hood. Then he spoke, but this time with no apprehension in his quiet tone.

"You do know I've ruined others that were in a similar position to what you are in right now?"

[lovelybarnes]

dog tags- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader warnings: language? umm crimes about: rewrite!! wanted to get back into writing and i thought rewriting some of my favorite prompts would be fun, PF12 “committing crimes” + DH8 “how dumb can you be?” a/n: hello! i meant to post this like. five days ago LMAO but i started school and should be doing work right now and i came up with a false memory claiming i did, in fact post, when i, in fact, did not. anyway. here it is. i don't know how much better it is than the original but i had fun writing it, though, surprise! i still suck at endings. ummm i am thinking or rewriting more to get back into the groove and i am writing an actual new request. this got long okay thank you

"We're going to get caught."

You shoot Bucky a look, nose wrinkled. "You are so negative," you say, legs kicking as you climb over a fence. "We are not going to get caught." You watch as he leaps from the ground, metal hand grasping the top of the fence and launching his body over it cleanly. He lands crouched and stable, watching you slowly turn your body over the ledge and subsequently topple onto the ground.

"We're gonna go to jail," he sighs, bending over to hoist you onto your feet by your armpits. Your hair has leaves in it.

"Oh my god." You stumble, hands wrapping around his arms from the speed. "How the fuck do you—"

You shriek when Bucky spins you around to press your back against his chest and clamps a palm over your mouth, gentle even through the fingers keeping your lips shut. Your eyes widen cartoonishly, flailing as he manhandles you behind a shrub. You're still complaining to the best of your ability when he shushes you, directing your attention to the woman walking out of the house.

You quiet down and stare, brows furrowed. She's not supposed to be there.

It's like Bucky can read your mind, glancing at you with a sigh. You try your best to give him a look back before looking at the woman again. She has a phone pressed against her ear, lips moving angrily. Her voice upticks sharply with the end of each word she says.

You relax when you realize there isn't a chance of you getting caught, kind of wishing you had popcorn to watch her nearly trip over her heels and become even more furious, kicking at the grass. Bucky's silent enough for you to seriously doubt you'd know he was there had he not been tightly wrapped around you. You squeak at the fact, impressed. Bucky pinches your side unhelpfully.

She unlocks her car, keys tinkling harshly with her movements. Bucky finally abates when she throws her door open and sinks inside her white Jaguar, the slamming door narrowly missing her pin-straight blonde hair.

You gag, pushing his hand away. "When was the last time you washed your fucking hands? That's disgus-"

"I thought the house was empty," he interrupts, head cocked.

"I thought it was, too," you defend lamely. "She's off schedule. Maybe that's why she was so pissed. Late to her HOES meeting or whatever."

"What the hell is HOES?"

"I don't know!" you cry. "The one with the lawns."

"Are you trying to say the HOA?"

You quirk an eyebrow. "James Buchanan showing his face?"

"This is not-" He sighs your name, "I swear, if any more of your information isn't right, I'm leaving."

You make an incredulous look. "Is that supposed to be a threat? You were not invited."

"I wanted to make sure you didn't die or get sued or go to jail. Which, hey, really likely in a neighborhood that has 'HOES' meetings."

"I'm not gonna 'die' or go to 'jail,'" you insist, finger quotes up and perplexing Bucky. "I don't need your help, anyway, I'm a very capable person with a very capable plan. You just followed me. You're some guy's little brother."

"What?"

"You know. Annoying."

Bucky breathes in slow, watching you creep around the bush for a better angle of the house. He closes his eyes and counts to three, and when he opens them, you're at the porch, tiptoeing like a fuckin' cartoon character into the house and leaving the door open. Spectacular.

He sprints inside inconspicuously, head darting both ways just in case before he closes the door. When he turns, there's an alarm system set up that lazily blinks green. No disturbances. Huh. He glances at you, impressed for a very quick second when he sees you snooping in a cabinet, clueless to the huge dog growling behind you.

He stills immediately, breath slowing. He stares at you and tries his best to make you feel it, but it either goes wrong or he fails entirely when you drop a file, groaning loudly at the injustice of it. The dog twitches. Bucky's heart jumps into his throat.

You're halfway into an inelegant bend when you spot him, face breaking into a smile. Fuck, he thinks. You're pretty even when you're going insane. "Hey! You're finally here. Look at—"

He shoots you a warning look, moving his lips as little as he can. "There's a dog." He glances between it and you, thinking every move ahead to avoid a nasty bite and the failure of your stupid mission.

"Oh my god, Brutus?" You spin too fast, startling the dog both from with your movements and apparent knowledge of his name. 'Brutus' makes a noise between a growl and a whine. You gasp, a palm pressing against your lips. "Brutus, I thought they retired you!"

You drop down to your knees, opening your arms wide. Brutus stares at you for a second, inching closer to sniff you apprehensively. Then, his ears tuck and he whimpers, tail tucked and wagging gently as he walks closer to you.

"You... know the dog."

"Yes, I know the dog," you start, voice careening into a higher, softer pitch as you rub the pads of your fingers behind Brutus' ears. "Brutus has been the guard dog here for two years. I fostered her for a little while until she was adopted but I kept in touch." Brutus licks your cheek, making you squeal. "Her name was originally Poppy but they wanted a scary name." You roll your eyes.

Bucky shoots you a look.

"I sort of spied on them for a few months to make sure she was doing well," you rub her ear, "and she was, yes she was," you baby-talk. "Her owners have shit values but they really spoil their dogs."

"Wow. Okay. One question—the people we are stealing from know you?"

"Yeah, they have my number."

Bucky pinches the skin between his brows.

"Good girl, Poppy, protecting the house from evil intruders," you coo.

Bucky looks at the clock and then you, slowly lowering yourself further to pet Brutus-Poppy. He nudges you with his foot. Poppy growls at him. "Hey. Fellow evil intruder. She's gonna be back at some point."

"Not for another hour at least. Nat's in charge of the distraction." Still, you press a loud kiss to Poppy's head and stand.

"I'm an overachiever. Let's leave ample time."

"Fine," you say loudly, arms swinging petulantly at your side. "I'll make it quick. You're such a bore."

"Yeah, yeah. What are we looking for anyway?"

You use a pencil to look between books and couch cushions, humming distractedly. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, Buck." You wink.

Bucky's cheeks pink against his will, shaking it off as quickly as he can as he watches you look around. You pause in the middle of the room, do a full spin, and sigh. "Not here."

Bucky frowns but trails after you into another room, Poppy close behind. You open the door grandiosely to a giant room. "Wow."

"Okay, I know what you said, but you kind of need to tell me so I can help you find it," he says. You ignore him, striding toward a desk and pulling open a drawer. He says your name exasperatedly. You observe a notebook, shaking it vigorously before tossing it over your shoulder. Other items follow in quick succession, which he catches amidst his frustration. "What are you—you're going to break something—" He catches a crystal ball.

"I'm not, I know what I'm doing," you insist. "You are so pessimistic. Have faith." You dig in a little further before grumbling, rising to your feet and kicking a chair down. "I'm going to look in another room," you say and take off, leaving Bucky with an armful of miscellaneous objects to put back. He screws his eyes shut and counts to three.

You walk down the hallway quickly, peeking into the rooms until you find what you're looking for. Three doors in, you stop, scanning the walls until you find a hideous painting hung up next to a dusty bookshelf. You make a triumphant noise and stride toward it, running your fingers along the frame until you find the indentations of a security panel.

"Aha! And, if I remember correctly..." You enter 1234 and the painting swings open to reveal a safe. "Losers."

You count silently as you unlock the safe, laughing in triumph when you beat Natasha's record. Keeping the door open with an outstretched finger, you contort to find a pen, holding the cap between your teeth as you scrawl your time on the inside of your wrist, giggling in the anticipation of letting her know.

You turn your attention back to the safe after you've written a few wobbly exclamation points, rifling around until you find what you're looking for. Your fingers dig through a dark box filled with stolen valuables, a grin on your face when your fingers get tangled in the one you're looking for, eyebrows jumping in satisfaction as you tuck it safely into your pocket. You stick your head in the safe again, searching for something shiny to throw in Sam's face when Bucky bursts in.

"Oh, hey, do you think Sam would—"

"They're here."

Cursing, you shove everything into place, closing the safe and carefully moving the picture back. You step back and grimace. "God, that's ugly."

He says your name urgently, wrapping his hand around your wrist and dragging you away, throwing you over his shoulder when you keep lagging behind. You squeak, clamping your mouth shut when Bucky squeezes your thigh in warning.

He dumps you out of an open window and into a bush, rolling himself out onto cropped grass. "Okay, I think that was unnecessary," you mumble, crawling out next to him. There are lines of bubbling red all over your skin from what was apparently a rose bush.

"We have to hurry before the gate closes," he huffs, lifting the both of you up with ease and hurrying to the slimming entrance. You squeeze out unseen and stop at the beginning of the blind spot you came in through. Bucky's huffing when he puts you down.

"What's wrong? I thought you had super high stamina or something," you tease, poking at his shoulder. Bucky glares at you. You laugh and reach for his hand, beckoning him enticingly with your fingers. He appeases you suspiciously, capturing your hand in his. He squeezes and rubs a soft line up and down near your thumb.

"Let's go home," you say.

Bucky blinks. "What?"

"Let's go home. I'm hungry. And I kind of want to take a nap. Can we stop by and pick up some ramen?" You tug at his arm gently, beginning the trek to Bucky's bike down the path without surveillance. "Breaking and entering really wears me out," you say to his furrowed brows.

"Don't forget robbery," he muses.

"Right. Breaking, entering, and robbery really wears me out," you say with a laugh. You turn to him and grin, eyes sparkling.

Bucky stops, staying in place when you pull at him and whine. "What was it?"

You cock your head.

"What did you want to steal so badly?"

You chew on the inside of your cheek, looking at him thoughtfully. "I'll tell you if you give me a piggyback ride," you proffer, wagging your brows.

Bucky rolls his eyes but crouches down, holding onto your index finger as you climb onto his back.

He readjusts you as he stands to full height, wrists twisting under your knees and holding your calves tight but kindly. You hum, one arm falling over his chest and the other dipping into your pocket, unzipping it and taking out the chain. You wrap it around your fingers delicately and rest your chin on his head, looking at it dangling from your hands.

Bucky begins to walk. "So?"

Your thumb draws wonky hearts on Bucky's chest, tracing the letters on the tags with your other one. "Do you remember how disappointed you were when you came back and your dog tags had been auctioned off? It was the one thing you couldn't get back because it wasn't in that museum." You feel Bucky nod. "Well, I've been looking for them," you confess, pursing your lips. "I didn't want to tell you because you'd tell me to stop and that it didn't matter but I know it did—I know it does.

"A few months ago, I found out who bought them and I tried to buy them back, but these assholes wouldn't budge no matter how much I offered—or anyone, I impersonated a lot of people. I think they just wanted to keep them because other people wanted them. And the things they said about you..." You shake your head, feeling yourself going hot with anger.

Bucky squeezes your leg, muttering your name.

You stop yourself, letting your face slant so your cheek rests on his hair. He smells sweet like your shampoo. Fucker. "So, anyway, I did the obvious thing: I tracked them down and broke into their house to get it back. It's not like the tags are theirs, anyway."

Bucky stops abruptly, jolting you. You yelp, complaining as he puts you down and stares at you.

"You did—this was to get my dog tags?"

You look back at him. "Yes? I didn't—"

He cuts you off, pulling you into a hug so tight, you cough. Your arms hang limply in surprise for a second before they come up to reciprocate, a dazed but still eager arm rubbing the line of his shoulder blade. Bucky hugs you a little tighter. "Thank you," he murmurs. "I don't think anyone... I don't know many people that would do that for me."

"Oh," you say, blinking fast. "I—of course I would. I love you, Bucky, you... I would do anything for you."

"Fuck," he says wetly, pulling away to hold your face in both hands. He smiles at you. One of those real ones that crinkle his eyes. "You're—fuck—"

You laugh, his hands falling away to your shoulders.

"I'm sorry you didn't get them back after you went through all that trouble."

You tilt your head. "What do you mean? You think I didn't get them?" You raise your hand to his view, dog tags dangling. "Your faith in me is shocking."

Bucky grabs the tags and you let them go easily, watching his hands turning them around slowly, index running along his name. JAMES B. BARNES. Then, two lines down, R. BARNES. "I can't believe you did this for me," he says softly.

You smile. "Well, believe it, baby," you tell him, gently teasing. Your wring your hands together. "Of course I did," you say, quieter.

When he looks back up at you, his eyes are shiny. "Thank you." He glances down at them once more and splits the chain with a finger to pull it on your neck. "Hold on to them for me?"

You pause. "Bucky..."

"Just until we get to the compound. You'll keep it safe for me."

You keep it safe for much longer than that.

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Hello,I'll have saw the post Sinbad ask with dorm leader of twisted wonderland, can you do a same but with vice leader or first years group please?

Trey Clover, Ruggie Bucci, Jade Leech, Jamil Viper, Rook Hunt & Sebek Zigvolt - Sinbad (Magi, Aos) Male Reader

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Hey @ryu-things, you have no idea how long I've been pushing this ask back and procrastinating. I was trying to avoid it until I got done with all of the unfinished single-character asks that I have backed up, but I suddenly stumbled upon a really good song that I could use for the lyric quote. So here I am, suffering once again. (post note: somehow Lilia transitioned into Sebek 1/3 of the way through, so I'll do a part three of the first years and add Lilia there.) The lyrics quoted in this one are from the song “Cautionary Tales” by Jon Bellion. —Benny🐰

                                                                                                   

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❝𝕭𝖎𝖌 𝕽𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖓, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖎𝖝𝖙𝖍, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓- 𝕳𝖊𝖞 𝕳𝖊𝖞, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖊𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉! 𝕭𝖆𝖓𝖌 𝕭𝖆𝖓𝖌, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕿𝖗𝖚𝖙𝖍, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖂𝖊𝖆𝖕𝖔𝖓- 𝕳𝖊𝖞 𝕳𝖊𝖞, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖊𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉!~❞

. . .

♠️  Trey has been the target of many flirtatious comments already, so you'd think he wouldn't be too flustered, right? The suggestive remarks and sexy smirks would simply roll off of him, like water off a duck's back. Except… He didn't think that [Name] would corner him up against a wall in the kitchen and whisper so close to his ear that he could feel the dampness of the world-hopper's breath. Trey didn't expect just how large the foreign king's hands would be as they engulfed his waist. The Vice Dorm Head didn't take into account that [Name] would treat him with such respect yet be so blunt with his desire. By the Seven, is this even legal?

♠️  Considering that the Queen of Hearts was well… the Queen of Hearts, Trey isn't too surprised at [Name] being the king of an entire country back in his old world. Although the bespectacled man didn't believe him at first since he's a naturally skeptical person, the man did come from another world. Not only that, but the foreigner gives off the air of a natural-born leader who has experience with being in a significant position of power. Trey will ask [Name] if he can spare some advice to Riddle about being an important public figure who holds power over others. He trusts his childhood friend, of course, but the clover-haired man can't help but feel that the redhead could still use the help.

♠️  This bespectacled man is about to lose his marbles if he receives one more ridiculously expensive ingredient from that hard-headed king! This has to stop; Trey is really starting to feel bad. How is he supposed to give [Name] gifts that are of equal value if the guy is buying shit that costs upward of one hundred thousand madol!? His family owns a local bakery for Seven's sake, not an international catering company! Not that Trey doesn't appreciate the foie gras, gold leaf, and fresh morels; he does, but he wishes [Name] would give him something less expensive and more personal. He also wishes that the world-hopper would stop spending such ridiculous amounts of money on the most unimportant shit.

♠️  Now, Trey is certainly not a jewelry connoisseur, however, he is absolutely certain that he's seen jewelry of a similar style to [Name]’s draping off of Kalim and even Jamil on certain occasions. They are quite lovely things aren't they, though, the six-pointed stars that were engraved into a few of them were telling enough of their true origin. Apparently, [Name] had gotten them from a structure called a dungeon; what the otherworldly man described as a giant spire that erupts from beneath the sands of the vast and vacant desert at the command of a magi. Whatever a magi is supposed to be… The Sindrian king even offered to make Trey one of his household vessels! Even if the bespectacled man still has no clue what that's supposed to mean…

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“N‐now listen, you! This is a kitchen. It's meant for kitchen-related activities and not… n‐not this. You'll dirty the counters if you keep this up. H‐hey! Don't give me such a look!”  

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🍩  Its safe to say that Ruggie was very caught off guard when he was on the receiving end of someone's flirting.  He's sure that he's not exactly anybody's first choice when it comes to a romantic partner, he'll, he's not even the first choice for a friend. But the hyena beastman can't deny the thundering of his heart in his throat when [Name] appears behind him and rests his face in the crook of his neck. Nor can Ruggie admit the swirling thoughts of a future together whenever the charismatic [Name] sneaks into the Savanaclaw Dorm kitchen and lifts him onto the countertop so the man can hand feed him. The feeling of large hands holding the underside of his thighs is forever burned into his mind.

🍩  Aw jeez, not this shit again. No offense to [Name] or anything, but this hyena is really burned out by all this royalty stuff. If the Sindrian king turns out to be another jealous royal, Ruggie's going to start ripping his hair out; one Leona is more than enough for him to deal with. He would ask the otherworldly man to talk some sense into his Dorm Head but he doesn't even bother, he lost hope long ago. [Name] being a king does sound pretty cool though, if the foreigner ever wants to spare him some gold or food the Ruggie will welcome it with open arms. The hyena beastman does think about how it would feel to sit on a throne, but a king's lap is comfortable enough for now.

🍩  Oh, for him? [Name], you shouldn't have– just kidding, keep them coming, ol’ Ruggie can pawn some of these beauties for a hefty sum of madol and then he can send it to his family back in the Afterglow Savana. O-oh, the Sindrian king is wondering why his little doughnut lover isn't wearing most of the gifts he bought them. Those are– those are in his room! Yes, his room. This hyena just didn't want to dirty anything that was given to him by someone as important as [Name], with him being a king and all. The ol’ Rugster definitely didn't sell most of the gifts that were given to him, absolutely not. But… on the off chance that that's exactly what happened, surely the foreigner wouldn't be mad at him, right? He's got priorities after all.

🍩  You know, Ruggie doesn't mind it too much when [Name] wears his gaudy jewelry when they cuddle, so long as this hyena gets to wear some every once in a while. For some reason, though, the henchman of the second prince of the Afterglow Savana only wants to wear the jewelry that the otherworldly man won't let him touch. But how could he blame him, it's the scrap hound in him, looking at things he can't have with big wanting eyes. [Name] will have to end up showing Ruggie just how important his accessories actually are eventually and it's safe to say that the hyena beastman will no longer let his Sindrian sugar daddy wear such dangerous things while he wants to be vulnerable for a moment.

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“Hey, if ya ever get tired of eatin’ the same ol’ royal meals, yer pal Ruggie‘ll take care of it for ya. I'll clean yer plates lickety-split an’ free o’ charge. Heck, I'll even throw in a free fridge cleanin’ for ya as a bonus! All this with a downpayment o’ absolutely nothin’!”  

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🐬  Is Jade flustered? No, no, dear, he's more amused than flustered. This slippery eel hasn't had someone speak to him in such a bold way before, aside from Rook, but the hunter goes about it in a much more eloquent way. [Name] wants to wrap an arm around his waist and pepper his neck with kisses. Alright, but the monarch from another world better expect a bite or two placed over his Adam's apple in return, it's only fair.~ [Name] wants to sit him on his lap and whisper sweet nothings in his ear? That's fine, but he'd better expect Jade to take those sweet words up a few notches into dirty territory,  this eel won't hold back. The king had better watch himself and stick to flirting with the mushroom lover only; this vice dorm head doesn't share.~

🐬  Hoh? A king? [Name]? It's not that Jade doesn't believe that the Sindrian man is royalty, he just doesn't want him to know that he believes it. It was fairly obvious by just the way that the foreign man carried himself and even subtly in the way he spoke. Hell, even Floyd figured it out -not that this eel is saying anything about his brother- was it even a secret at this point? But even so, Jade doesn't care too much about [Name]’s social status and will continue to pretend that he doesn't believe the man for the sake of seeing his frustration. That glare that the Sindrian man shoots him whenever the gentlemanly eel once again denies his claims, is really gratifying in a way.

🐬  Yes, that hand-crafted broach is absolutely stunning, and yes, these rings are embedded with treasured stones from all around Twisted Wonderland,  but does Jade want them? Absolutely not. What use would he have for them? Sure, he could wear a few of the accessories that [Name] gifted him to any formal events that he may need to attend, but other than that, they'll just sit around and collect dust. He will certainly take his time to sit down with the world-hopper and discuss preferences; although the slippery eel prefers to do it the difficult way and make the king guess instead. Luckily for Jade though, [Name] seems to like the ones that play hard to get the most, so the influx of gifts being sent to the twin's shared room in Octavinelle skyrockets. Poor Floyd is so annoyed at being buried in fancy gift boxes, give him a rest already.

🐬  The amount of side-eye that this man gets from Azul whenever [Name] comes into Monstrou Lounge all decked out in gold and jewels is downright atrocious. Jade loves his otherworldly himbo boy toy, but it's becoming a bother to try and steer his childhood friend's schemes away from him at this point. Especially since a few of those accessories radiate a foreign magical signature and the Seven knows how power-hungry that four-eyed takoyaki is. So [Name], if you would be so kind, stop broadcasting your vulnerability to the group of people who are known all around the college's campus for taking advantage of vulnerable people, you dumbass. Jade himself is a part of said group, he hopes that just because he and the Parthevian native are in a certain relationship, the man won't assume he's a good person.

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“Oh my, you're still going on about that? I understand that you're magicless, but I doubt lying about your social status will help your situation. Honestly, I'm starting to believe you're having delusions.”  

 

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🐍  While Jamil appreciates that [Name] is trying to cheer him up, such vulgar words are- are unnecessary. Yeah, as much as I love our beautiful serpent man, he can be a bit dense. No matter what compliment, kind gesturing, or suggestive remark the king flings at him, he will immediately assume one of four things; 1. Those were meant to be passed onto Kalim, 2. They're trying to insult him in some way, 3. They need a favor from him, and 4. They're just trying to annoy him. But even then, Jamil can't ignore how hot-faced and tongue-tied he gets when [Name] pinches the brunette's chin between his large, calloused fingers and plants a searing kiss on his lips. Or how the Sindrian man leads him away to take a break and runs his fingers through his long dark brown hair.

🐍  As soon as the words ‘I'm also the king of’ left the handsome worldhoppers lips, Jamil could only let out a long resigned sigh. Of course [Name] was royalty, which explains why that man is so childish and irresponsible; running around and leaving masses for other people to pick up. The Al Asim servant resented the charismatic man quite a bit after that revelation; going as far as to slap his hands away whenever the other tried to touch him. Jamil will feel a bit bad after a while though, [Name] hadn't done anything wrong and he was taking his frustration over his situation with Kalim out on a third party. Thankfully the foreigner accepted his apology immediately and even offered to take him and his sister back to Sindria with him, how sweet.

🐍  Once again this serpentine man assumes that all kind words and gift-like objects being given to him are things that he's meant to pass to Kalim, and he does just that. It was only [Name]’s asking whether or not the gifts he had given him were useful and Kalim pointing out that the gifts were addressed to him by name that Jamil finally got it through his thick skull. This time, surprisingly, it was the Al Asim prince who was exasperated at his servant and not the other way around. The prince even made it a point to tell people to give all gifts meant for him directly to him so that they'd leave his servant be. (responsible Kalim for the win!) Looking over his now recovered gifts, Jamil couldn't help but flush at how costly they were. The thought of [Name] spending so much money to please him made the basketball player both embarrassed and endeared.

🐍  At first he didn't really notice them, but after being pulled against the muscled chest of his word-hopping fling(?), he was smooshed onto the business end of a few of the man's familiar-looking accessories. The imprint of a six-pointed star was on the side of Jamil’s forehead for days after that, to which the idiot whose arms he was in made a joke about him having a shiny forehead. [Name] got a good bonk on the head after that. The Sindrian man had once shown Jamil a djinn that dwelled inside his necklace, but after seeing the look that the serpentine man was giving the djinn, [Name] decided to keep the rest to himself. Now, the dark brunette gets frequent reminders that, if he so chose, the foreign king would take him with him when he eventually went back to Sindria.

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“You'll take me back with you? You'd really do that for me? Then please… remember you said these words to me… and take me away from this place when the time comes.”  

 

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🏹  Well [Name], prepare to be outdone by a true professional. Rook will make the foreign man swoon so hard it's not even funny. The Parthevian native wants to pin this hunter to a tree, oh, haha look, now he himself is against that tree while the bob-headed blonde attacks his neck in between whispers of recherché poetry that he wrote earlier that day. That Sindrian king is lounging on a blanket in the wooded area just on the outskirts of the Pomfiore dorm campus and trying to coax the Frenchman onto his lap? Oh my, what's this? [Name] is now practically nude as Rook kisses and caresses each and every inch of his muse's warm muscular body. Somehow the blonde finds this thing the two have going on to be even more thrilling than a hunt.

🏹  His lovely muse is a king? It looks like [Name] has another new pet name courtesy of a certain huntsman. In fact, it's become Rook's favorite pet name, so his darling muse and everyone else in his vicinity is going to be hearing the words ‘Mon Roi’ as often as they breathe. Oh, this bob-headed blonde is dying to know what kind of wildlife is back in Sindria; he can describe beauteous landscapes in his poetry, what newfound fauna could be his prey, ah what thrilling thoughts he has. Since [Name] is the king, he'd certainly let Rook hunt to his heart's content, right~? You can't just tell him about all these curious little creatures and then ban him from hunting them; such a tease the otherworldly man is being, how cruel.~

🏹  The feeling of being spoiled with gifts by [Name] reminds him of how Vil ‘saved him’ during his first year when he was still in Savanaclaw. Although, Rook could never think back on his experience in his old dorm negatively; his roots are firmly planted in the Afterglow Savana after all. But instead of a haircut and rigorous skin care, he was given the best hunting equipment money could buy, and when it came to [Name]’s money, well there was a lot of it. As Rook's lovely Mon Roi told him, the greatest hunters are those who aren't afraid to become a beast themselves for the sake of the hunt.  These new intricate daggers that he was gifted seem to have quite the resemblance to fangs do they not?

🏹  Rook doesn't bother too much when it comes to his Mon Roi's jewelry, it's simply a token of a faraway home in his eyes; the hunter himself has many of his own. Yes, the bob-headed blonde does in fact notice that his otherworldly muse's adornments emanate a mystical aura and glow from time to time and yes the poetry enthusiast also knows that the giant blue figures that [Name] calls djinn do live in the ones with stars engraved on them, but he could care less. What Rook is really interested in is having his dearest muse hold that pose while he captures how the light bounces off the gold and jewels that draped across [Name]’s naked chest in this portrait. The hunter made sure to hang the paintings on the wall opposite his bed so that he could see his magnetic Mon Roi when he woke up every morning.

🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞

“Ah~ Mon Roi, the tales you have given me do you no justice. You are far more magnifique than these simple words can capture. It seems that I have found myself a challenge to overcome; I must bid you adieu.~”  

 

🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉

⚡  He keeps swearing up and down that he's been cursed by the otherworldly man; why else would he be feeling so odd around him after every interaction!? Sebek has been feeling flushed, and sweaty all over, having racing thoughts, been unable to sleep, and has continuously been stumbling over his words since he met [Name]! This has to be a curse; the half-fae wasn't experiencing any of these symptoms before! Even after Sebek demanded a duel in order for the foreigner to release the spell, to which wrestling on the bed was the request by the perpetrator, the curse only got worse! Now his mind is only occupied with thoughts of [Name] at any given moment; but he needs those thoughts for Waka-Sama, not some random human witch man!!!

⚡  So, the witchy human claims to be a king? HAH! Fat chance! There's no way Sebek would believe such an obvious farce, just who does this human take him for? The only royalty worth any salt is clearly his Waka-Sama, didn't you know? This half-fae knows what that human ‘king’ is up to, that man is just trying to lie his way into Waka-Sama's good graces, that's the only explanation! Even if Sebek knows that [Name] walks with the same regal posture as Malleus and knows that he has the same aura as Lilia does whenever they're sparring during swordsmanship lessons, he just won't accept it. And no, he will not accept a duel to change his mind.

⚡  A new sword and armor that cost millions of madol? Denied. As if Sebek would accept anything from some lowly human that definitely has plans to hurt Waka-Sama, he's not an idiot. Even if that sword looks expertly crafted and the blade is magically reinforced to cut through concrete like butter, h‐he's not interested in [Name]’s wicked wares! Ah, but… the weight of the blade is pretty good and the handle is very comfortable to grip onto… oh, and the hand guard is customizable too… A‐ah! Sebek wasn't admiring the craftsmanship, he was– he was just making sure that [Name] didn't place a curse on this sword is all. Yeah, that's it. What? No, he won't give it back, it was a gift, wasn't it? N‐not that a proud fae warrior like himself needs gifts from lowly humans!

⚡  Poor [Name] no matter what he does, Sebek continues his tsundere behavior. If the Sindrian king were to show the half-fae his djinn or metal vessels, who knows what he'd be accused of? Probably something like kidnapping his djinn and holding them against their will or saving a metal vessel for Malleus so he can trap him inside. But, if not that, Sebek would likely say that he has them for nefarious purposes. Whatever, [Name] better go back to the drawing board.

🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉

“HUMAN! Remove this curse you've cast upon me at once, it's interfering with my duties to Waka-Sama! Wha- You still have the gall to lie right to my face!?”  

. . .

❝𝕭𝖎𝖌 𝕽𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖓, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖎𝖝𝖙𝖍, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓- 𝕳𝖊𝖞 𝕳𝖊𝖞, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖊𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉! 𝕭𝖆𝖓𝖌 𝕭𝖆𝖓𝖌, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕿𝖗𝖚𝖙𝖍, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖂𝖊𝖆𝖕𝖔𝖓- 𝕳𝖊𝖞 𝕳𝖊𝖞, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖊𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉!~❞

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Reblogs are appreciated ~ 𔓘

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

[siffrins-therapist]

👾censoredmandibiles Follow

OK time to settle something

EDIT: this post WAY ended up breaking containment. GO CLUTCH YOUR PEARLS ELSEWHERE

🦑tentacleovi Follow

YO FREE BLOCKLIST IN THE NOTES HOLY SHIT

#RIP OP's notifs #i don't go here but i suggest making popcorn before diving into those notes #some of it is puritan bs you'd expect #some of it is discourse i never even knew existed

41.6K Notes

🕷️friendofcharlotte

I think a painting my friend got at a thrift store was painted by Mr. Italy Veneziano? Is there a way to authenticate it? Google isn't helping.

⭐wishonadeadstar Follow

Try here. Turns out my nan's portrait of her farmhouse was originally painted by Mr. Romano when he was living in NY during the 1920's.

🕷️friendofcharlotte

THANK YOU

8 Notes

📽️bisexuallightinggoggles Follow

hey yo so the US rep put like 100 hours into playing that game Spiritfarer just this week... anyone want to go check on the guy??

💿newagepirate Follow

There are literally government workers who's literal job it is to check on him

⛰️lesbianmothernature Follow

how tf do you know he put 100 hours into playing a game anyway????

📽️bisexuallightinggoggles Follow

We're friends on Steam. He adds like everyone who asks.

And for everyone in the notes asking what Spiritfarer is it's one of those cozy simulator games here's the trailer.

#isn't the 'deathiversary' of his friend Davie this week? #i'm definitely not the first person to think of that #okay looking at the notes was a mistake #like i'm not one of those ppl who puts #'DNI if your username makes fun of davies death' but #immortal or not #even if it happend centuries ago #you can still be sad your FUCKING FRIEND DIED

12.3k Notes

🥾hikingawayfrommyfeelings Follow

So if I become a citizen of Ladonia can he just... visit me through my computer?

🦝trashypanda Follow

He gets mad when you summon him :(

🦘callmejoeythewayi Follow

"summon him" Like a fucking demon?

🫒shrekbignaturals Follow

We are NOT rehashing that old discourse.

🎱magic8saveme Follow

Oh god I just revived my blog after escaping x/twitter and last time I saw that disk hoarse, my dash was just post after post of this for DAYS

🪄magictrio-dropout

#was there actual discourse about whether the nation-people were demons? #cuz the discourse i saw on my dash was #whether tales of things like demons vampires and #other immortal or 'came back to life' creatures #were born from when the nation-people resurrecting #or like #doing creepy stuff

IDK about tumblr or the first bit (I've personally never heard that at least not from anyone being serious) but the other stuff has been debated in academia for decades! One of my literature professors is ADAMANT that the vampire myth can be traced to old folklore about the reps and them reviving and possibly the blood-drinking comes from an evolution of the myth when before, old stories talked about blood soaking the earth where vampires rose. If anyone's interested, here's where you can find my professor's paper about it.

🎃warongayxmas

So like. *grabs a bat and slowly approaches a hornet's nest* Then does the Jesus story have the same roots then?

🫒shrekbignaturals Follow

WE 👏 ARE 👏 NOT 👏 RE 👏 HASHING 👏 THAT 👏 DISCOURSE👏

🥾hikingawayfrommyfeelings Follow

Wtf happened to my post???

#so did OP become a Ladonian citizen or what?

187.4k Notes

🐦‍pinchforawish Follow

MY DAD GOT TO SEE MR ENGLAND LIVE BACK WHEN HE WAS IN A PUNK BAND

🐦‍pinchforawish Follow

TUMBLR WTF HOW TF DOES THIS VIOLATE GUIDELINES

🏴dinotonugget-deactivated

Finally. Proof that the site runs so shittily bc Mr. Eyebrows works for staff

🫎moosecrossing Follow

Spoke the truth and got fucking killed for it

67.9 Notes

[ne-nene-ne]

♡ How to gain the dragon's affection ♡

-> things you can do to make this handsome fae weak in the knees

malleus x reader (fluff!)

Wear or carry the things he's gifted you!

Whether it's a necklace, bracelet, or even a mini gargoyle statue, have it on you! Malleus will beam with pride when he sees it on your person. I feel like he's a bit of a possessive person, so he'd love seeing you dressed in the things that he, himself has chosen and gifted you.

Indulge him in his passion for exploring ruins and his love for gargoyles!

If you show even the tiniest bit of interest in gargoyles or ruin exploring, you will see Malleus' eyes light up immediately and he will begin talking about it for hours. Please allow him to do so. Not many share his passion or are interested in these types of things (if at all), please listen to him ramble on. Heck, join the Gargoyle Studies Club! Give this dude some company because he's pretty much the only member there. 😭 And look, he's aware that not everyone is interested in the same things he is, but if you at least put in the effort to listen and try to understand, he'd be a happy fae

Include him in your activities!

We already know how much of a complex he has towards being invited/uninvited, so if you constantly make it a point to include him in whatever you're doing, he will feel loved. I don't think he'd be picky about what kind of activity you'd be doing. He'd be open-minded to whatever it is. In fact, he'd try to find possible ways to make it easier on you if it's a difficult task. If it's an artsy/creative activity, like painting, there's a chance he'll either be pretty good at it at first try, or he'll end up making a bit of a mess. I also don't think he'd mind much of this either, even if he did end up looking silly. He would laugh it off heartily and probably be like, "How interesting...!" He's curious about your ways and is very much willing to learn. His adoration for you will just increase if you try to teach him

Help him raise his tamagotchi!

He absolutely loves his Roaring Drago and so if you offer to help him "raise" it or offer to watch over it whenever he's busy, he'll fall more in love with you. Not only will he feel closer to you as you both nurture the little creature, he might even begin to see a future with you and your own little ones (if you ever had that in mind) and oh, how he knows how much he'd love that life dearly if it was spent with you.

Share that full-sized cake with him!

This one is oddly specific but as seen in his profile, Malleus dislikes full-sized cakes because he tried eating one entirely by himself 😅 (ofc he wouldn't feel great afterwards). You might be met with a resistant attitude or sour face from him (out of instinct) when you bring out that whole cake, but show him that it isn't as bad as he thinks when he shares it with someone. Maybe he'll like it! And if he doesn't, well then you guys can smear the leftovers on each other's faces and have a bit of fun!

This poor boy has just been left out on a lot. Make him feel welcomed, wanted, and loved and he will adore you forever 🥺❤️

a/n: not really proofread tbh but it was a fun one! I might just turn this into a series and do the same for other twst charas. I'm thinking of Azul or Leona next, hmm

And OKAY so I originally posted this on @lyneira (my brand new writing blog) but my posts on there aren't showing up in the tags yet so I guess I'll still be posting some of my writing here until tumblr allows them to be seen 😭 somebody pls interact with my new blog so that tumblr doesn't think I'm a bot 😔

[reidsaurora]

"Overnight" ~ S. Reid

Summary: When Spencer offers to clear out a drawer for Y/N in his dresser, it has him explaining some things he'd been hiding from her.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader (i think? i don't remember using pronouns in this lol)

Word Count: 814 why is she so short

Content Warning: allusions to sex but nothing in detail, mild mentions of nudity i guess, this whole fic is basically aftercare lol, lmk if i missed anything!

Genre: Fluff, what else did you expect out of me?

Extra Notes: i truly meant for this to be posted on time, i'm so sorry guys

Based On the Prompt: "The Things In That Drawer" from this year's @domaystic prompts

Originally Written: 05/08/2023

Beta Read By: @dungeons-are-too-cold (i love you literally so much)

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

Nothing could get Spencer Reid in a sappy mood like a night of slow, passionate sex. Something about moments like these—the way he showered you in kisses, the sweet compliments he'd give you, the love he'd show you—just felt right. Like his embrace was exactly where you needed to be.

Spencer's hand settled on the soft skin of your hip, drawing various shapes with his fingertips. Your head rested against his chest, your hand moving up to his tummy. He placed a soft kiss on your hair, the scruff of his five-o'clock shadow scratching against your forehead lightly. "I love nights like this," he told you.

You craned your head to face him, kissing his cheek. "I do too. I just hate that it always ends so quickly," you said, thinking about the work nights where you had to head home early, not quite ready for the night to end but knowing that you needed to go home for a change of clothes.

"You know," he said, pausing to flip the two of you over, his body hovering over you, "I could always clear a couple drawers out for you."

Your eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. You'd been hinting at the idea for a while, lamenting about needing fresh panties or complaining about missing your skincare regimen. But Spencer hadn't seemed quite ready to take that step yet, so you didn't pressure him.

"Wait, are you serious?"

He nodded, bending down to kiss you on the lips this time. "I'll even let you pick out which one you want."

You practically pushed him into the floor as you jumped up. Spencer chuckled as you ran over to the dresser, pulling his boxers back on.

You pulled out the second drawer, where you knew his tee shirts were, grabbed one of his giant ones and tossed it on. "Any of them?"

"Mhm," he hummed, walking over and settling his hands on your waist. "Whichever one you want."

You considered it, eventually deciding on the bottom drawer. "What about-"

"Wait, Y/N, don't-" he shouted, reaching out to stop your hand.

He was too late, though. You pulled open the drawer, revealing an entire drawer of nerdy memorabilia. The lightsaber was the first thing that caught your eye, followed by a sonic screwdriver, and a couple geeky Pop Figures, among other things.

"You have a lightsaber," you examined.

Spencer scratched awkwardly at his neck. "Yeah, I guess I do."

You grabbed the lightsaber from the drawer, your face lighting up as you turned it on. "You have a lightsaber!"

He chuckled as you poked him in the ribs with the lightsaber. "You're having too much fun with this."

You set the lightsaber down on top of the dresser, turning back to the drawer. Next, you pulled out the infamous Jason Voorhees mask, holding it in front of your face. "Please tell me you've scared your coworkers with this."

Spencer let out another chuckle, taking the mask from your hands. "I got Morgan with it one time. He nearly choked on his coffee."

You continued snooping through the drawers, sifting through Polaroids of Spencer and his friend Penelope at various conventions, some D.C. comics, and a couple signed posters. Your heart nearly flipped when you spotted a picture of him dressed as the Joker. "Who did your face paint?"

"You're loving this, aren't you?"

A squeal escaped your lips as you threw your arms over his shoulders. "Spence, this is adorable! Why would you hide this from me?"

He sighed, somewhere between relieved and exasperated. "I didn't want you to think I was weird. I mean, I'm a grown man and I have a collection of legos and Batman comics?"

"Spencer, I think it's cute that you have something you love so much. You don't have to be afraid to show how much you love and support it."

He bent forward to kiss you again, pulling your body flush against his. "You really mean that?"

"I mean, any man that has the balls to wear makeup like that in public is sexy in my book," you kidded.

Spencer diverted your attention back to the drawer, pointing his chin toward the dresser. "Is that really the drawer you want?"

"Does it come with all the nerdy memorabilia?" you teased, poking his chest.

"In your dreams. I spent good money on those things." He rolled his eyes, leading you to the bathroom. His hands were warm and big on your bare skin, the feeling absolutely heavenly. He placed a trail of kisses along your shoulder up to your head before hooking his chin over your shoulder.

You lifted your head to face him, kissing his jaw. "Hey, does this mean we can go as the Joker and Harley Quinn for Halloween?"

"You know what? I think that might just be something out of my dreams."

-> taglist: @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @nomajdetective @kbakery @leigh70 @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @lunar-affection @givemeth @lavhoes @rhyanishere @cat-lockwood @danielle143 @marsmallow433 @handsupforamiracle @topguncultleader @mente-sindescanso @reverieofmgg @spencer-reids-adventures @ah-blossom @encyclo-reid-ia @reidselle @thevisionthedream @dungeons-are-too-cold @wwwonzeee @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @annahalstead5021 @cwritesforfun @soapiebear @maelartasch @buckyyyismahhlife @cynbx @hellooitsrose

[inkofthebrain]

Beach Day

Modern!Mizu x F!Reader

Art Creds: @lillydrawsmizu thank you for bringing this to life <3

Warnings: none

AN: the only volleyball experience I have is playing on the beach drunk out of my mind in high school so this is going to be interesting. Not proofread lawl.

——————

You were layed out across a towel, arm above your head, soaking in the sunny summer day and enjoying the sounds of the water. Taigen spotted a private little beach while on a run a few weeks back and after begging everybody to check it out, a beach day was finally in order. The communal volleyball court that originally caught his attention was in ok condition, a few loose threads here and there and wooden posts that were the ideal perching spot for seagulls when there wasn't a commotion around the net.

"Y/n!" Akemi called from the net, which sat a few feet away from the group's setup of towels, coolers, and umbrellas. You turned your head to the left to face your friend, seeing Ringo walking off the court and heading towards the water. "Come join us! Ringo wants to swim so we are short one." The three left on the court were all turned to you, Akemi and Taigen on the right and Mizu on the left.

You shook your head and let out a laugh, "No! You guys know I can't play."

"C'mon, it's game point it'll be quick. I'm not giving up until Mizu admits I'm better than her" He placed his sunglasses on his head and crossed his arms.

"Yeah right," Mizu scoffs, "c'mon y/n I'll teach you, it's easy," she says with a smile, motioning you to walk over to her. You couldn't refuse her offer, she was having so much fun and you'd hate to be the reason they'd have to end the game (resulting in Taigen demanding a rematch for days every time he sees Mizu).

"Fineeeee," You got up with a groan, adjusting your bathing suit as you walked over. Mizu turned back to face the net and put her hands up to catch the ball Taigen threw her way. She dropped it onto the ground, putting her foot on it to stop it from rolling away.

"I apologize in advance, I have no idea what I'm doing" You tucked your hair behind your ear, smiling at the raven-haired girl in front of you. Taigen and Akemi were distracted in conversation on the other side of the net.

"Don't apologize, you are gonna do great," She waves her hand in front of her, dismissing your apology, "Now, you are going to want to hold your hands like this." Her slender fingers grabbed your hands, placing them in the correct position. You looked at her soft features while she made minor adjustments to your form, a slight blush creeping across your face as her hands lingered on yours.

"Perfect, remember to hit with your forearms when you pass, it gives you the most control." She taped your arm, pointing to where she was referencing, and you hummed in acknowledgment. She gave you a quick overview of the rules and after passing the ball back and forth to each other a few times it was time to start the game.

"You ready to go down?" Taigen taunts, earning a light slap on his arm from Akemi who shot him a glare.

"In your dreams" Mizu retorts with a smirk. She started walking to the end of the court to serve, pausing next to you placing her hand on your shoulder, leaning close to your ear.

"Aim for Akemi, she is scared of getting hit in the face. It's an easy point." Her voice sends chills down your spine as she away, looking at you with a smile, the proximity holding a tension you couldn't quite place.

"Okay," You said in a whisper, admiring her eyes. She gave your shoulder a squeeze, her hand sliding down and leaving the warmth of your body as she got ready to serve. Your eyes followed her toned figure, a slight breeze causing her ponytail to sway slightly.

Mizu shoots you a wink before hitting the ball, sending it flying across the net. Taigen runs after it, passing it to Akemi who almost misses and barely gets it over the net. You dive towards the ball, hitting it with as much force and precision that you can muster.

“Atta’ girl y/n!” Mizu shouts, causing a smile to spread across your face as you back up from the net. Taigen sets the ball, Akemi jumping up to smack towards Mizu.

“Here!” Mizu says with a grunt, passing the ball. You then send it flying at Akemi, who throws her arms in front of her face with a yelp causing the ball to shoot right over her head and onto the soft sand. Taigen groans and walks off the court to get a drink of water, Akemi shortly behind him spewing apologies.

“I did it!” You explain, running to Mizu with your hand out for a high five. The tall woman catches your hand pulling you into a tight hug.

“Yeah you did! That was amazing, you need to play with us more.” You guys pull apart and she smiles at you, hands still on your sides and yours around her neck.

“Who won?” Ringo says as he walks up to you guys, covered in water and panting.

“We did!” You exclaim, turning to face the man, arms sliding off Mizu.

“It was all thanks to this pretty girl right here” Mizu says, pulling you into her side by your waist. You smile down at the ground attempting to hide the flush on your face.

“What can I say I learnt from the best” You say shooting Mizu a smile.

“Cmon let’s go, Taigen said loser buys lunch” Mizu pulls away but reaches to grab your hand, leading you to the others

“I DID NOT!” Taigen retorts. You and Mizu both let out a snicker, laughing at the sore loser.

——————

AHHHHHH. I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT. I HAVENT WRITTEN FANFIC IN AGES IM SORRY IF IM RUSTY.

@fanficreader33 THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST. MWAH!

[dinogoofymutated]

NSFW! Cable/AFAB!Reader

Alright! Last time this one will be posted lol. Thanks everyone for being patient with me, I know Cable isn't exactly a fan favorite compared to the other characters I write for on this blog, so I appreciate everyone being cool while I've been finishing this :) If you'd rather read the SFW version, You can find it here :) also, This fic has come callbacks to the previous cable fics I've written, So I'd recommend you read/Reread that one first! TWS: MDNI!!! Jealousy, creepy men, we choose the bear and the bear is Cable. Slight miscommunication, but healthy talks happen. PNV sex, fingering, dirty talk. Usage of pet name "pretty girl". Raw sex, wrap it bf u tap it guys.

    The bar is busier tonight than you’ve ever seen it. It’s humid, stuffy, and overly loud with all the warm bodies packed into the small space. You’ve never been one for crowds, but you know for a fact that Cable is certainly not a people person.

    The two of you had been crammed into a corner booth for about an hour and a half, originally having come to the bar to meet a contact that never ended up showing. Normally, the two of you would have gone home by now. It was your idea to stay and get something to eat, wanting to at least make some good with the newfound downtime. 

    You were comforted by the feeling of Cable’s keen gaze keeping an eye on you as you wove through the crowd, finding your way to the bar. You hold back a smile as you sit down, ordering some drinks for the two of you as you wait on the food. Eventually, you glance back at Cable and find him still staring at you, making eye contact as you send him a smile. You’re not surprised, but you raise a playful eyebrow at him. Cable, ever the protective grump, rolls his eyes at you in response, but you still spot the small smile he gives you when you send him a wink.

    “That beer for me, Beautiful?” The voice of a stranger cuts through your thoughts, and to be honest, you don’t even think he’s talking to you until you realize how close to you he is. He’s sat on the barstool next to you, leaning towards you like he can’t quite catch his balance. You make a face at him, nonchalantly moving Cable’s beer closer.

    “Last time I checked it wasn’t.” You say curtly. The man has a smile hiding behind his pout as he leans a little closer to you, oblivious to the way you casually recoil from him.

    “Oh c'mon, don’t play hard to get. I’m chill!” You can tell this guy is most definitely drunk, and you find yourself trying not to roll your eyes at him. If only he knew what kind of trouble he was in.

    “Sure you are. But believe me, my Husband is not.” You tell him. You're not married, but to be honest, you knew this guy wasn't going to leave you be if you left him with some vague label. Didn't matter anyway, however, the stranger laughs in your face, and his breath smells like alcohol and cheap cigarettes, a nasty combo that repulses you. You point back at the corner booth where the cable was sitting just a few minutes before, hoping that he’d at least back off at the sight of the six-foot hunk of muscle you call a lover. Unfortunately, He doesn't. 

    “What Husband?” The man says mockingly, and when you look at the booth you find yourself pointing at an empty seat. The sight lights a small flicker of anxiety in you, and your face falls as the man sets a hand on your shoulder and squeezes. It’s not there for long before the weight suddenly disappears. You snap your head around, feeling relief when you see the man’s wrist caught in Cable’s literal iron-clad grip. 

    “This Husband.” Cable grunts. 

    All of the blood drains from the stranger’s face in an instant, but it doesn’t take long for the attitude to come back. He tries to yank his arm out of Cable’s grip, but Cable’s arm doesn’t move an inch. To be honest, the sight kinda made you blush a little. Sure, you had seen Cable’s strength many times, but this… well. This was different. The guy starts to yank a little more aggressively, and all Cable has to do is clench his hand for the asshole to yelp and give up. You set a placating hand on his shoulder, and Cable glances back at you. His gaze softens, and he sighs before letting the guy go.

    “What’s your problem, man?” The stranger spits as he holds his bruised wrist. You had already gathered your things and was getting ready to get the hell outta dodge, giving Cable’s shoulder a hard pat as you desperately try to keep him from getting in a barfight. Cable is ignoring the guy, walking close behind you as you start to walk away.

    “ -s’ an ugly bitch, anyway.” The stranger mumbles under his breath, but not nearly as quiet as he should’ve. Cable stops in his tracks, wheels around, and slugs the guy with his left arm. There's a sickening crunch and the bar goes silent as the drunken stranger is violently knocked from his seat. Your first instinct is to scold Cable, but the guy had it coming anyway. You look around, and with every eye in the bar squarely on you and Cable, you decide you’ve definitely stayed past your welcome.

    “Ohhkay. Yeah, let’s go.” You tug on Cable's arm, practically dragging him away at first. You weren’t worried about the drunk, that guy sure as hell wasn’t getting up any time soon. To be honest, you were more concerned with the fact that you could never meet someone in this bar discreetly ever again. Yay. 

    The drive back to today’s apartment is silent, and you’re thinking too much about Cable, honestly. He’s not necessarily talkative himself, arms crossed in the passenger seat as he looks out the window. You send a nervous glance his way. You had called him your husband, and although it felt right in the moment as you tried to get another man off your back, you didn’t think that Cable would actually hear you. And boy, did he hear you. Sure, he responded… like he did. The memory of it almost makes your stomach flutter. Part of you wants to be absolutely delusional and just revel in the fact that he inadvertently called himself your husband, but what if he felt forced into it? What if he only said that so that you wouldn’t be caught in a lie? When you think about it, that had to be it. I mean, he was being overprotective in the first place, but he was just trying to defend you from unwanted attention. God- you just wish you could pull your thoughts together. Pick up the confusion and chuck it out the door.

    You drive on autopilot, and before you know it, you’re already “home”. Nathan splits off from you, going to change probably. The fact that he hasn’t really looked at you yet makes you even more anxious, but to be honest, you probably wouldn’t have noticed if he had. He wasn’t usually affectionate when he was high-strung, and you knew that, but still. You can't seem to let it go.  You’re curled up on the couch when Nathan joins you, fresh out of the shower and already in casual clothes. He gives you a little space as he sits, like he doesn’t want to startle you. He’s still as stoic as ever, but at least he doesn’t look angry. You’re itching to say something, to speak, and he can tell. 

    Nathan could feel your anxiety since the car, and no matter how badly he wanted to know why, he could tell that you needed a moment to get it out. He crosses his arms with a sigh. He didn’t consider himself a jealous man, but when that idiot at the bar started talking to you he just couldn’t stand it. He knows he blew your cover big time with that punch, but there would always be another crusty bar to go to. In all honesty, he was more concerned with your change in attitude. You receded into yourself in-between the bar and the car, and he didn’t want to know if he was the reason why. He wonders if he overstepped.

    “Sorry, by the way.” You finally manage to say. Nathan cocks an eyebrow at you.

    “For what?” He asks. You look away nervously, fiddling with your fingers.

    “For when I called you my husband back there. I know we’re certainty not… well, I was just scrambling and needed something concrete- and calling you my boyfriend felt weird so-” 

    “Take a breath.” You’re surprised as he cuts you off, feeling a little stupid as you try to collect yourself. There was so much you had been through, so much that you had learned how to handle, but this?? Why was it so hard to communicate feelings like this when you normally can communicate with him so easily on the battlefield? He was probably tired of your rambling.

    “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I get it. We wouldn’t have even had a problem if the guy had taken a hint.” Nathan says, pissed off at the thought of the guy putting his hands on you still. You glance at him, a confused look on your face as you lean back on the couch.

    “So…?”

    “So, don’t apologize. It’s not like I actually…” Nathan stops for a moment, and your heart skips a beat. “I didn’t mind it” He finishes.

    “Oh?... Oh.” You say, slightly taken aback. Nathan is flushed red, staring straight ahead as he avoids looking at you.

    “So we’re okay, right?” You ask.

    “Of course we are,” Nate responds immediately, without even thinking. He looks over at you finally, still blushing a little. You relax at that, having a bit of deja vu. You realize that one of you had moved closer during the conversation, and your sides were pressing together. Nathan’s hair is messy, the gell having washed out during his shower. You always liked how fluffy it was like this, and to be honest, you can't help but reach up and run a hand through his hair. He huffs at the action, a ghost of a smile on his face as he rolls his eyes at you, but he doesn’t stop you from doing it. He’s a bit too tall for you to comfortably reach, even sitting down. Your arm is getting a bit tired, but you don’t want to ruin a sweet moment like this one. After a minute of you debating what to do, Nathan sighs and pulls you into his lap. 

    “You think too much.” He says, closing his eyes. He brings one of your hands back up to his hair, encouraging you to keep going. You hadn’t expected the action, almost startled by it. Sure, it wasn't like you had never touched him before, but the two of you… you were still getting the hang of things. New changes, familiar feelings. It felt good to be this close to him, and for once you know that you don’t have to worry about your time together being cut short.

    “Does it bother you?” You ask quietly. “When I think too much?” Nathan hums, hands resting on your waist.

    “...No. You think more than anyone I’ve ever met. Your mind is always running about something or other. Really, I’d be more concerned if you weren’t thinking.” You notice a slight change in his demeanor during his last sentence, but you don’t comment on it. Instead, you find yourself admiring his face. Your hands shift down from his hair, rubbing your thumbs under his eyes, across his cheekbones. Your eyes drift down to his lips, and you can’t help but lean in and kiss him. He’s surprised for a moment, eyes flickering open and then shut as he cups the nape of your neck and kisses you back. You sigh into him, moving to straddle his legs as his left arm tugs you closer to him by your waist. The cold metal chills you through the fabric of your shirt, his thumb idly rubbing against you. 

    Both of you are out of breath when you separate, caught up in the unbreakable connection between the two of you. You look into his pretty brown eyes, and you want to say it. You want to say those little words so badly. But you know you shouldn’t. There was something about saying it that made everything a little too real, that made everything seem a bit too different. You want to say it, but you don't. You know he knows. You know- you hope he feels the same. It’s all you could ever hope.

    “Of course I do,” Nathan whispers, a look so similar to heartbreak on his face. Your eyes widen, once again not realizing his intrusion into your thoughts. Then again, maybe you were just so used to him lingering in the back of your mind that you didn’t notice anymore. You kiss him again. This one is slower, more intimate, more sensual, and he returns it in the same manner. You’re feeling a little sappy, but content just the same. Nathan finds himself in a similar well of emotions, hoping that next time he won't have to remind you for you to know it’s true. 

    Nathan kisses you again, and again. He drags his teeth across your lower lip before smoothing the skin with his tongue. You eagerly open your mouth, goosebumps forming on your skin as he takes the invitation. Both of his hands have moved down to your waist, squeezing the plush skin as the kiss begins to morph into something a little more intense than it originally was. You feel cold fingers start to drift under the fabric of your shirt for a split second before he shifts you to the side.

    Nathan begins to crawl over you, pressing your back onto the couch cushions as he keeps kissing you. He holds himself up with his left arm as the other one begins to slide further underneath your shirt. He’s completely caught up in you and the feeling of you against him. His kisses begin to trail down the side of your neck, and it’s like he knows every sensitive spot by heart. You tangle a hand in his hair again in an entirely different manner than you had done the last time. He shifts his weight so that his other arm has more room to work with. 

    The mood dies a little when your hair gets pinched by something. You let out a yelp of pain, and Nathan immediately recedes from you. You flinch at another tug, realizing that your hair has gotten caught in his metal arm. Nathan is wide-eyed as he leans up, untangling himself from you so that he can carefully tug your hair free. You sit up as he does, rubbing your sore scalp. He raises a hand like he wants to do the same but doesn’t. He makes a sour look at himself and his arm before he begins to lean away from you completely.

    “Sorry, I’ve overstepped,” Nathan says. Your stomach drops to your feet as you scramble to grab a hold of his shirt, keeping him close to you in a bit of an awkward position.

    “No!” You say, a little louder than you intended to. Nathan looks a you, more confused than surprised, like he couldn’t fathom why you were holding onto him, why you wanted him to continue.

     “I… I’m fine with… just-” You’re struggling to say it, flushed beet red at just the thought of what you’re trying to say. Eventually, you huff and give up, fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt. You tug on it a little, but Nathan doesn’t move.

    “Don’t make me ask, Nate.” You say. His breath hitches. You bite your lip and his eyes catch on the sight. He catches himself before he gets a little too distracted, and glances away for a moment before making a decision.

    “Okay. But we're not doing this on the couch.” Nathan grumbles. He stands, pulling you up with him as he does so, and you can’t stop yourself from tugging him down for yet another kiss. He has to bend down to meet you, a little too tall to kiss you comfortably. It’s not much of a problem though, especially when the man you're kissing is strong enough to lift you into his arms like you're weightless. The kiss only breaks for a second as he lifts you up, encouraging you to wrap your legs around him as he walks to the bedroom. You realize just how much warmth had begun to pool at the change of position, feeling a wetness between your legs that you wonder if he can feel. 

    You don’t want to distract him as he carries you, but every time you pull away from his kisses he drags you back to him, biting and sucking on your lips in faux annoyance.  It’s like he already has the apartment mapped out in his mind, barely needing to look to navigate through it all. He doesn’t bother closing the bedroom door when he gets there, plopping you down on the bed before he’s crawling over you again, kissing your neck and collarbones as his hands drift underneath your shirt. His hand is rough and calloused compared to the plush skin he finds there, the metal of his other one cold and smooth. You swear it leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake. 

    You clench your thighs together as he touches you, not quite used to the feeling. It’s been a while since anyone has touched you like this, and you find yourself completely overtaken by Nathan. He nips at the skin of your neck, and you gasp at the feeling. He continues to suck and lick at the spot, and when he’s done, he starts another one. You wonder if the man at the bar would have still approached you if you had been marked up like this before, wearing a purple, tender kind of jewelry that you’d only let Nathan give to you. You try to project the thought on purpose, hoping that he’ll pick it up. You think about everywhere else he could mark you, and Nathan curses as he sees the images in his mind as clearly as they appear in yours, a hand thumbing at your bra before it slides under you to unclip it.

    Nathan leans back as he takes your shirt off, the bra coming with it. You try not to shy up as he openly admires your breasts, watching as your nipple pebbles when he brings his cool left hand up to caress the skin. His eyes catch your own as he leans down to your chest, kissing a trail from your collarbones to the peak of your left breast. He sucks and nips at the soft, squishy skin, taking the nipple into his mouth after he had his fill. You let out a small noise of pleasure, gasping at the feeling of his tongue against the sensitive nub as his other hand lovingly caresses the other.

    Your hands wander up and down the expanse of his back, sliding under his pajama shirt. Nathan shudders as you gingerly slide your fingers over his scars, and the torn skin that marks the difference between man and machine. Your fingers follow the seam of scarring delicately, caressing the skin. You feel how his skin prickles, and wonder about the extent of his sensitivities before he nips a little harshly at your nipple to catch your attention. You wince at the feeling before he smoothes it over with his tongue. He kisses your breast one last time before he moves back to your lips. 

   You lean into the kiss with a hum, inviting him inside of your mouth as his hands trail down to your waistband. His thumbs hook underneath the fabric before he starts to pull it off of you, underwear included. He breaks from the kiss, wiping the trail of spit that connects your mouths. He leans back onto his knees, kissing down your stomach as he slides your pants off completely. His shirt is next to go, revealing the strong muscles that lie underneath. Your eyes trail down to the bulge in his pants, a certain kind of warmth forming in your chest as you realize that every part of him is intimidating. You feel yourself clench at the thought, spreading your legs shyly, inviting him to touch you where you want him the most.

    It’s like something in Nathan's snaps as he takes in the sight of you. Your flushed face, heaving chest. The marks he’s left across your upper body.

    “Fuck.” He practically growls as he grabs ahold of your thighs, dragging your core flush to his hips and grinding into you smoothly. You can’t help but moan in both pleasure and surprise at the sensation of his soft pajama pants pressing into your bare lips. He feels good against you, his hardness hot and aching to be inside of your warmth.

    “Please,” You gasp. “Please, Nate. I need you.” He curses again at the sound of your voice, his hips jerking into your own. 

    “Not yet. Beautiful.” He rumbles, Struggling to pull himself away from the steady grind. “-Can’t yet. Don’t want to hurt you.” You whine when he stops moving, and he leans forward to kiss you. You twitch at the feeling of his thick fingers sliding through your folds, collecting the wetness he finds there. Nathan groans, knowing just how much you want him from that simple action. He teases you, sliding the pads of his fingers down from your clit to the slit below it, circling your entrance before doing it all over again. You don’t have to say a word for Nathan to know you’re complaining. He chuckles at you, before slipping a finger inside.

    It’s thick. You knew it would be, but feeling it was entirely different. You break from the kiss with a moan as he curls the finger and catches that spongey spot inside of you. He moves his kisses to your cheek, and the spot below your ear as he has one arm keep your hips from jerking. He’s slow and thorough as he prepares you, a second finger sliding in with ease when he deems you ready for it. You knew he was good with his hands, but this was giving you a whole new definition of the phrase. The wet noises coming from you are almost embarrassing as he fingers you, hand absolutely soaked from your wetness already. He uses his other hand to start rubbing your clit, and the pleasure almost becomes too much.

    “Nathan.” You whimper his name, pleading with him. You needed him, badly. You didn’t want to cum yet, not without him inside of you, not without hearing his low groans and moans as you take him exactly like you were meant to. You clench around his fingers at the thought, and he hums as he pulls them away. 

    He pulls you up, switching the position so that you’re on top of him. You don’t hide the fact that you’re watching him as he finally takes off his pants, his cock slapping against his lower abdomen as it slips out of the waistband. You wait till he’s fully kicked them off before you begin to stroke him, twisting your hand at the head of his cock. He groans out your name, and another plume of fire lights inside of you as he does so. You really liked how that sounded, falling from his lips. 

    He’s just as thick as you thought he would be. Your hand can't wrap fully around him, red and straining. His cock twitches as you run your thumb across the slit, collecting the precum that was beading there. You're addicted to the noises falling from his mouth, giving him a slight squeeze to hear him moan again. 

    Nathan grabs your wrist gently when he's had enough, face flushed and breathing heavily. He helps you angle your hips over him, lining himself up with your slit. The head of his cock notches against you, and both of you want so desperately for him to be inside. There's a quiet - schlick- as he slides through that first ring of muscle, both of you moaning at the feeling.

    You take it slow while you're taking him in, circling your hips as You lower yourself down slowly. Fuck- this feels so much better than his fingers. You rest your head against his chest as you struggle to take him, even as wet as you are.

    His hands comfortingly slide up and down your thighs when he bottoms out. You take a moment to collect yourself, feeling a slight pinch with how deeply he fit inside of you. Nathan gives you time, pulling you into another breath taking kiss as you adjust.

    When you're comfortable, you begin gently rocking your hips against his own, feeling Nathan sigh against you. You're grinding your clit against his pelvis each time you rock, enjoying the added pressure against your sweet spot. You begin to work yourself into a pace, reveling in Nathan's groans as you bounce on top of him. 

    His cock is hitting all the right spots inside of you, his hands now gripping the flesh of your ass as he thrusts up into you with each stroke of your hips. He feels so unbelievably good, hot and heavy inside of you. 

    You desperately try to keep up as his thrusts pick up the pace, wanting all of him and more. But your thighs were staring to get sore, and your knees aching from the position. You tuck your head into the crook of Nathan’s neck, balancing yourself on him as a means to catch up, but you just can't. You slow your hips, catching your breath as Nathan continues to trust his hips. He's trying his best to slow down for you, absolutely lost in the feeling of your soft skin and wet cunt.

  “Come on, pretty girl. You can do better than that.” Nate says, making you moan in surprise as he gives you a particularly sharp thrust. You shake your head, pleading with him to just roll you over, take you at whatever speed he would like. He's hesitant at first but you're kissing his neck, nipping and sucking at a spot he doesn't remember being so sensitive.

    “Please, Nate.” You whisper into his ear, and he shivers, body stiffening under you. “Please,” 

    In less than a second, you're under him, legs on top of his shoulders as he thrusts into you wildly. His eyes are hooded, gazing at you lustfully as your breasts bounce with every movement. The sound of skin slapping on skin is loud and pornographic as his balls slap against you with his thrusts, the grunts and moans coming from the both of you not much better.

    Nathan brings a hand down to rub at your clit as his hips begin to stutter, closing in on his pleasure. Your hips jerk as he does so, quickly reaching that peak of white-hot pleasure yourself. He moans your name as your inner walls clench, back arching as you get closer- closer- so close-

    You call out for him when you cum, his hands holding you still by your hips as he ruthlessly fights to reach that peak of pleasure. You're clenching around him as you ride out your orgasm, and it's almost too much.

    Nathan pulls out of you when he cums, sticky streams of white splattering on your stomach. He grinds himself against you a few more times, coming down from the pleasure. Your legs have gone limp against him, boneless as you pant and tremble beneath him. Nathan kisses the inside of your ankles before he eases them down. 

    He leans above you, kissing you tenderly as he cleans you up with his shirt, having dragged the clothing into his hands with his telekinesis. When he's done thoroughly wiping you down, he falls beside you. He rolls you onto his side as he holds you tightly. He's pleasantly exhausted, looking at you in a way that you've never seen before. 

    His large hand comes up to rest against your neck, thumb running over the tender spots on your skin. You make a bit of a face at the soreness.

    “Those are definitely gonna bruise, aren't they?” You ask, somewhat weary of the marks now that the sexy excitement has worn off. Nate huffs a laugh.

    “Yeah.” He affirms. You pout at him as he brushes the hair out of your face, sighing in exasperation. To be honest, you didn’t mind it too much. Certainly not enough to be mad at him for it. 

    “Did you mean what you said earlier?” You ask, closing your eyes as you snuggle into him. Nathan’s hand rubs your back soothingly as you start to drift off.

    “Hm?”

    “Did you mean it. When you said you didn’t mind me calling you my husband.” Nathan is silent for a moment. You don’t quite have the energy to read into it like you would have before, but you're relieved when he speaks up.

    “...yeah” You smile at his answer, pressing a chaste kiss to his chest as you begin to fall asleep, content and wrapped in his arms.

[lonelywretchjervistetch]

The State Birds Initiative: New Jersey (#3)

Welcome to the third official poll of the State Birds Initiative! Before the poll, though, one thing real quick. My suggestion is that you read the post below before voting in the poll below. That's especially important if you're lacking any context about the birds being presented as the new (or old) State Bird of the Garden State, New Jersey. This is to be fully informed as to why these are being presented, and to make your choices appropriately. Lastly, some of these birds, you will notice, may go against some of the rules listed in the introduction post. All is explained after the jump where the explanations are, I promise you that. But with that...OK! Here's the poll! If you'd like to see the last post, check out Pennsylvania (Poll | Results)

So, with that done...New Jersey.

OK, I'll be honest, I have very little history with New Jersey. Only been there a few times, I've driven through it a decent number of times, and I mostly know it by reputation. But, uh...for whatever reason, every trip I take that requires me to go through New Jersey, NJ is the worst driving portion of that trip. Basically every time. Maybe that's a New Jersey turnpike problem, maybe that's unhappy coincidence. Hell, maybe it's conservation bias from being a New Yorker (upstate, but I've gone to the city regularly throughout my life). Or maybe it really is cultural reputation for New Jersey trickling in to my subconscious (looking at you, Jersey Shore). But either way...I have complicated feelings about New Jersey.

But this post is NOT about my personal geographic experience. Mostly. It's about birds! So, let's get into New Jersey objectively. Third state admitted into the union, state capital is Trenton, largest city is Newark, and it's the most densely populated state in the country. Famous for being the origin of electricity in civic infrastructure, as well as the home of their favorite son, Thomas Alva Edison. Which...when you learn more about the guy, makes you wonder about New Jersey as a whole. MOVING ON! It was a major staging point in the American Revolutionary War, and ever since, it's been all about freedom. Even though you can't pump your own gas there. Although, to their credit, the Statue of Liberty is actually technically in New Jersey waters. Yeah. That's absolutely true. But, like...it's spiritually a New York landmark, so we'll let it slide.

Now, here's the thing about New Jersey, seriously and truly. It has a bad reputation because of media and New York City. This is for two more specific reasons, from what I can tell. One, the New Jersey Turnpike sucks, and it smells like raw sewage due to its proximity to industrial factories and processing plants. And unfortunate way to experience the state, and the main way I've experienced New Jersey personally. So, that's one, and it's not indicative of the state's quality. Number two is simply the fact that it's a hub for commuters, with lots of people going to either NYC or Philadelphia for work. Because of that, Jersey itself gets pieces of their cultures combined, which also makes it a very easy target with a unique accent. So, not Jersey's fault.

In reality, it's quite a nice state with more natural area than you'd expect for somewhere so densely populated. New Jerseyans, unsurprisingly love their state...and aren't big fans of tourists, from discourse I see online. It's a small state, which makes it crowded enough. Plus, there are tourist attractions there. There's the massive American Dream Meadowlands mall, there's MetLife Stadium, there's Six Flags Great Adventure, there's...Trenton. Actually, no, Trenton sucks, I stand by that assessment. But it's also a highly diverse state, with the highest proportion of Hinduism followers in the country, as well as the densest collection of LGBTQ+ social centers (AKA gayborhoods), amongst other things. NJ does deserve more credit.

Now with that said, let's talk about the natural world of New Jersey, because there is a surprising amount to talk about. 45% of the land is covered in mixed deciduous-coniferous forest, which you've probably noticed is typical of the NE USA. Oak is our primary tree here, which is also probably why Northern Red Oak (Quercus rubra) is the state tree. It also has some major ecological features that are well known for its natural advantages. Cape May is a seaside city and vacation resort, but also one of the most well-known and important sites for birders from the United States during migration seasons, making it immediately prominent for this post. Great Swamp NWR in the north is the first wilderness area ever designated by Congress, and also serves as a major refuge for birds during the breeding season for various reasons. And maybe most importantly, the New Jersey Pine Barrens are the largest remaining pine barrens in the NE USA, and act as a bastion of diversity. More on this later, I promise; there's a species entry dedicated to this unique environment.

And that's not all to talk about here. NJ's environment needs some focus for a number of reasons, not least of which being that the state has more toxic waste dump sites than any other state in the Union, which are the focus of the federal Superfund environmental remediation program. Yeah, there's some cleanup that needs to happen in the state, especially as it is so small. Of 150 federally listed sites, only 35 have been cleaned up since the 1970s. So, yeah. We should get on that, please. But with that said, NJ has relatively low carbon dioxide emissions compared to other states, they're seventh in solar power, and get most of their electricity from natural gas and nuclear power. So, it's a greenish state that could be a lot greener.

There's a lot to talk about for such a small state, it would seem. Let's not linger about, and let's get on with the show here! I'm honestly kind of excited. Birds after the jump!!!

American Goldfinch (Spinus tristis)

Let's kick things off by talking about the incumbent, the American Goldfinch (Spinus tristis). Now, why was the American Goldfinch chosen as the State Bird of New Jersey in 1935? Easy answer: favoritism. The bird was nominated as the only candidate by the New Jersey Audubon Society because...it was their mascot at the time. Yeah. That's it. In reality, the New Jersey State Bird is the New Jersey Audubon Society. And even then, it's officially lost its relevancy, because that's not their mascot anymore. More on that later.

What's actually worse about the goldfinch here is...for some reason, not a lot of New Jerseyans have actually seen them. Part of the reason for this entire series, by the way is this Reddit post, which stoked the fires that had long been simmering deep within my soul. OK, not that deep, but still. Anyway, the header of that post is that the OP had barely ever seen an American Goldfinch, despite being a native. I thought that was insane (and said as much in my comments), because this is a ridiculously common bird, especially for birdwatchers. But, uh...I've looked into since then. And only 0.4% of its global breeding population resides in the state. What's crazy is, this is a common sentiment amongst New Jerseyans. They just...haven't seen this bird. And obviously, that/s not every new Jerseyan, and a lot have reported seeing it. But to be honest...is this bird really worth being called the State Bird of New Jersey?

OK, can we make the American Goldfinch make sense in retrospect? Let's see, they're a highly social finch species throughout the year, living in dense colonies in the spring and summer especially. The males are late breeders with ornate flying displays meant to attract females, and may group territories with other males to defend against predators. And they're an open secondary growth forest specialist that live in the state year-round, including during the breeding season. Which means...well, actually, it means that they're perfectly suited to live in New Jersey, funnily enough.

Hear me out here. There are two things that goldfinches love most: forest clearings and weeds. New Jersey may be 45% covered in forest, but it does have deforestation as a minor problem around its settlements. However, that's not a problem for the goldfinch, who thrives in secondary growth forests that occur as a result of succession. Given an attempt in recent decades to recover New Jersey's forests, this means the goldfinch is a potential symbol of these efforts. Plus, its love of the seeds that come from flowers that are pest plants, like dandelion, thistle, ragweed, and cosmos, make it a potentially attractive bird for gardeners of the state to attract, especially as those plants thrive in open fields during stages of succession!

...YES I'M STRETCHING MORE THAN AN AUSTRALIAN BREAKDANCER WITH A DOCTORATE TRYING TO MAKE A POINT, BUT WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS MASCOT OF AN ORGANIZATION NAMED AFTER A SLAVE-OWNER???

So...moving on.

Clapper Rail (Rallus crepitans)

While the majority of natural New Jersey is covered in forest, it still has a fairly important habitat in the form of the saltmarsh. Just to get the definition in place early, a saltmarsh is essentially what it sounds like: a vegetation-dominated coastal biome with salt and brackish water, salt-tolerant grasses and plants, and the animals that depend on such. They're coastline preservers, trapping and binding sediment as it makes its way to and from the ocean, and acting as a major supply for the food web along the coasts. They're incredibly important habitats, and this will not be (and have not been) the last time you've seen them during the State Birds Initiative.

Now, obviously, these habitats are chockful of birds. New Jersey has a few major salt flats along its coast, all of which shelter some major breeding populations of birds. One of these species is the Clapper Rail (Rallus crepitans), which is our eBird-sponsored pick of this poll. Clapper Rails have 13% of their global population in New Jersey saltmarshes, meaning they're quite dependent on this unique habitat, and most of their population breeds in the state. Some people may never have seen or heard of a rail, but in case you're one of those people, just know that they're a smaller semi-aquatic relative of cranes. If you've seen a coot, moorhen, or gallinule, then you've seen a rail! And the Clapper Rail is a crustacean-eating, saltmarsh-loving, new Jersey-dependent example. And that said...it is kinda boring looking to the average person.

Don't take me wrong! For me, this bird is fantastic, and would actually be a lifer for me, personally. But the average non-birder? Look, in instances like this, I usually tap into the part of my brain my fiancee lives in rent-free, and all I can hear is her shouting "LONG DUCK LONG DUCK" over and over. I love these guys, but I'm not sure they'd resonate with the public. Plus, as far as saltmarshes go, these are good representatives, but I'm not sure they're the best. Are these a good New Jersey representative? Possibly, since they represent a major ecosystem in the state, and that is important. But I'll leave that question to you all. Moving on!

Cape May Warbler (Setophaga tigrina)

OK, onto the category of birds that are named after the state, and New Jersey has one of those! The Cape May Warbler (Setophaga tigrina) is so-named because the first specimen described by Alexander Wilson was collected in Cape May, New Jersey by George Ord. That said, it's certainly a unique warbler, easily recognizable, and dependent upon conifer forests dominated by spruce, which the Pine Barrens are...not. Still, an iconic bird in New Jersey! Except...wait, hold on...ah. It doesn't breed in the state. In fact, after it was described from a Cape May specimen, it wasn't seen in the area again for...a century. So...yeah, it's named after a major location in the state, known for birds at that, and yet it's barely found there?Love this bird, but...maybe think about renaming it one of these days.

Pine Warbler (Setophaga pinus)

Now, the Pine Warbler (Setophaga pinus), on the other hand, that's a better warbler representative of New Jersey. Well, sort of. To be fair, the Pine Warbler only has 1% of its global breeding population in New Jersey, so the state isn't a bastion or reservoir for the species. However, there is a major reservoir of the species in the New Jersey Pine Barrens, which I'd mentioned earlier. And hey, Pine Barrens, Pine Warbler...slam dunk for representation of the habitat right there. And yeah, that's absolutely relevant to the species as a whole. They live, eat, and breed in pine-dominated forests, exactly like (and including) the Pine Barrens. It's actually listed as a "Significant Congregation" species by the New Jersey Audubon Society.

And as for making a good State Bird of New Jersey? It's a notable bird, even keeping the goldfinch's yellow with white wing bars. It's not terribly difficult to find, especially during the breeding season in areas like the Pine Barrens. And hey, they're even well-known to live with other species, making them an important biodiversity indicator for conservation purposes. Plus, if people go out to look for the Pine Warbler in the wild, they'll likely encounter other species like the Blackburnian Warbler (Setophaga fusca) or the Tennessee Warbler (Leiothlypis peregrina), amongst others. Fostering interest in birdwatching by chance! It works in a conservation sense...but I don't know that it's particularly emblematic of New Jersey, to be fair.

Northern Harrier (Circus hudsonicus)

Now, here's an interesting choice! If the current State Bird, the American Goldfinch, was chosen because it was the mascot for the New Jersey Audubon Society at the time, then by that logic, their current mascot should actually be the State Bird of New Jersey. And so, in that case, may I present to you the current mascot of the NJ Audubon Scoiety, and the next candidate for State Bird...the...is that a Northern Harrier (Circus hudsonicus)? Yeah, looks like it, and some sources I have confirm that's the case. But, uh...why?

Let me be really clear about something first off: I adore the Northern Harrier. Also caleld the marsh hawk, they're a beautiful raptor native to brackish and salt mashes, as well as grasslands and fields, hunting small mammals, insects, and the occasional bird. They're one of the few accipiters that are silent fliers, ambushing prey from above like owls. They even have the disc-like face. They're one of the new North American raptors with sexual dimorphism (the smoky gray male is pictured above, as compared to the brown females), and their iconic coloration has given them the nickname of the Gray Ghost. WHICH IS BADASS. They're also one of the only polygynous raptors, meaning a male can mate with several females in a given season, nesting on the ground and hatching chicks. Because of their unique relationships, some indigenous peoples see them as a symbol of healthy marriage. Finally, these are considered good for agriculture, as they eat rodents and not chicken. I love harriers, they're super neat birds, and it's always a pleasure to see them in the wild. Also, they DROWN THEIR PREY!!! What the hell! That's terrifying!

OK, harriers are cool, but do they have a relevance to New Jersey outside of being the logo of New jersey Audubon? Well...they do breed there...barely. But they've been observed doing so, so that counts. They represent key habitats in the state of New Jersey, so that's great. Their certainly charismatic enough (GRAY GHOST), and they've got nationwide conservation concern as an endangered species. So, it has those qualities going for it as the State Bird candidate. We'll see what the poll says. In the meantime, let's move on!

Laughing Gull (Leucophaeus atricilla)

Y'know, my original plan was to put the Ring-billed Gull (Larus delawarensis) in this list as well...and then, I stumbled upon a fun fact. The black-headed cousin of the Ring-billed Gull, and Laughing Gull, is a regular traveler to New Jersey, and in fact has a colony right off of the Jersey Shore, making them a fairly well-known and recognizable resident of an iconic area of the state. But pretty importantly, the species has a pretty massive breeding population in New Jersey. 5% of the breeding population of the species are in southern NJ, which isn’t the bulwark of their breeding population in the USA (that'd be Louisiana, according the eBird Status and Trends), but it's still a significant portion.

That said, the Laughing Gull is a recognizable member of the New Jersey shore community, and I mean the term "community" in multiple contexts. Ecologically, they're omnivorous scavengers that are well-adapted to living in a densely populated state, as well as in saltmarshes and other coastal environments throughout New Jersey. Sociologically, they hang around human settlements so much that they see opportunities in human hands...literally. The Laughing Gulls of the Jersey Shore are pretty notorious for stealing food out of the hands of beachgoers and boardwalk visitors. There are even boardwalk restaurants with signs saying they won't offer refunds if your food is stolen by a gull. They're SO notorious, in fact, that falconers have been hired to use their falcons to drive away these birds. And honestly...that's a shame. After all, the Laughing Gulls are such prominent citizens that humans have had to adjust to them.

But that said...I'm gonna quote Brian Donahue, the reporter at the end of the video/new report I linked to above...because it's hilarious, and it makes an interesting statement that I think people from New Jersey should think about. Read the quote, but trust that I have a somewhat well-thought out idea supporting it.

Derided as "flying rats" by many, I think it's time to reconsider the Laughing Gull, because if things haters say about Laughing Gulls (they're loud, feisty, there's too many of them... (Interviewee Kathy McCarey): They're rude...they're very demanding...and they come for what they want...I don't like 'em.) ...are the same things haters often say about New Jerseyans. Laughing Gulls are us. They deserve more respect.

Look, as extremely funny as that point is...there's a point about that statement. That is something that people say about New Jerseyans! They live in a state full of garbage, they're obnoxious and loud, all of that kinds thing. And New Jerseyans love their state as much as anybody else; SO MUCH, in fact, that many people online say they actually love that stereotype, because it means that people STAY OUT OF THEIR STATE. Funny or not, true or not...there's a point there. Laughing Gulls, as with all gulls, have a bad reputation, which is mostly undeserved. They're opportunists trying to feed themselves and their young, who see a smorgasbord of food right in front of them, in their neighborhood! In their place, what would YOU do? Honestly, these guys are a solid contender for that reason alone.

Plus, honestly...it's kinda funny.

Saltmarsh Sparrow (Ammospiza caudacuta)

Finally, let's look at the conservation focus for this post: the Saltmarsh Sparrow (Ammospiza caudacuta). So, this is a pretty big one, especially when looking at New Jersey. A full 32% of the species' global population breeds in this state, which is, frankly, a MASSIVE proportion of any species. What's more, they're considered an endangered species, which immediately makes this an impressive contender for the State Bird of New Jersey. And as one of the most endangered species in the Eastern USA, not to mention a species of immense scientific interest for ecological and genomic reasons, this bird should get some attention by the public and federal government.

However...and this is a point to be made here...it's not exactly the most iconic bird for non-birders. As a birder who would kill to get this on his lifelist (I AM WORKING ON IT, LITERALLY TOMORROW AS I AM TYPING THIS), this is a prominent bird within certain communities. And to others? Ugh, this is gonna hurt me to say, you have no idea, but...it's a sparrow. It may be a little harder for people to become attached to a sparrow, and even more difficult for people to recognize the Saltmarsh Sparrow specifically.

Don't believe that this matters? Do me a favor, bird people. Show your non-bird friends Bird A, Bird B, and Bird C. Ask them how many different species you showed them. I'm willing to bet the especially observant will say 2. The less observant are gonna say 1. And throw in these top two pictures, while you're at it. I'm willing to bet you'll still get a 2 or 3. Because, unfortunately, to many people, sparrows all look pretty similar. And going forward, that's something we'll have to keep in mind: a unique appearance. What makes a bird iconic is also in its uniqueness and identifiability. And sure, maybe I'm not giving the average person enough credit, but we're also talking about children. I've said it before and I'll say it many times over: kids are important targets to consider when choosing natural State Symbols. And I really don't know how many adults could tell the difference between some sparrows, even professionals. And, uh...the Saltmarsh Sparrow is a very important example of this, because it wasn't even a species until the '90s.

Oh, and kudos to those of you who caught on immediately to my little trick up there. Probably a good amount of you noticed it, but if you didn't...there are five species of sparrows shown in this post. The two birds pictured in the post? Different species. Yeah, hearing that now makes that more obvious, but you may not have noticed it immediately. The first bird pictured is indeed the Saltmarsh Sparrow. The second bird, however, is the Nelson's Sparrow (Ammospiza nelsoni), which was once considered the same species as the Saltmarsh Sparrow. Dirty question, I know, but it's also found in New Jersey. Not a breeder there, but it's enough to cause a bit of confusion. See what I mean?

Oh, as for the rest, Bird A is LeConte's Sparrow (Ammospiza leconteii), Bird B is a Savannah Sparrow (Passerculus sandwichensis), and Bird C is a Grasshopper Sparrow (Ammodramus savannarum).

Please understand, bird-peeps: I hate making this argument. Genuinely. The New World sparrows are a wonderful group, and a really fun one to play around with and hunt down as a birder. And don't worry, sparrows will be getting a mention in my personal list. But as for the State Bird? I'll let you all decide.

And with that, that's the end of this post! I miss any big ones? Make any leaps a bit too big? Feel free to let me know! In the meantime, stay tuned for State #4 - Georgia! Wait...wait, the fourth state to be admitted into the Union was Georgia? Huh. Go figure.

See you next time, and happy birding!

[wholoveseggs]

Warmth

18+ ---- {Masterlist}

This is just a smutty little thing about being in an arraigned marriage to a certain original vampire. This is the first thing I've ever posted so please be nice :)

{Part Two} {Part Three} thanks for all the love ❤️ If you rather read this on Ao3- Link is here

5k words - No warnings other than smut and mentions of a shitty family.

It's your wedding day, but it feels more like being sold off than a celebration. You're about to marry into the most powerful family in history, but it's not by choice—it's all politics. All you can do is hope that the guy waiting for you at the altar is decent and that somehow, you'll survive whatever comes after "I do."

Part One

You delicately picked at your freshly-manicured nails, your heart pounding in your chest as his sister's circled you, their hands adjusting your dress, hair, and veil.

"Is he a good man?" you whispered nervously, feeling one of them gently pull on your dress, making the low cut of the back align perfectly with your body.

Rebekah gave you a kind smile, applying a touch more blush to your cheeks with a makeup brush. "Yes, dear. He's a good man," she replied.

"He's the best of us, you have nothing to fear," Freya chimed in, taking your hand in a reassuring gesture.

You let out a long sigh as they placed the veil over your head, their satisfied smiles providing some comfort. "You look perfect," Rebekah said, offering a sweet smile. "Welcome to the family."

Walking down the aisle felt like a surreal dream, your heart racing, and time behaving strangely, as if you'd indulged in a bit too much wine. You couldn't help but feel a sense of relief as you laid eyes on the groom. At least he's handsome, you thought. But fear still gripped your heart; marrying a vampire was one thing, but becoming a part of the family of the most deadly vampires was a whole new level.

Standing across from him, you barely registered the officiant's words as they initiated the ceremony. Up close, he was even more striking with warm brown eyes, a sharp jawline, and a physique that complemented his looks. He gazed down at you with a gentle smile, though there was a hint of sadness in his dark eyes, a reminder that he hadn't desired this union any more than you did.

The vows were recited, their words escaping your consciousness as you mechanically repeated them. He lifted your veil and with a chaste peck on your lips, the marriage was sealed.

At the reception, your new husband mingled with the guests, sealing packs and making deals, laying bare the true intention behind your marriage. You observed his brother taking the stage, silencing the band.

"I'd like to thank you all for coming. I have a special gift for the bride and groom. Since they didn't really have a honeymoon planned, I took it upon myself to help them out. Outside, they'll find a car ready to take them on the adventure of a lifetime," Klaus announced, giving his brother a wicked smile, clapping him on the back in a way that seemed almost malicious. "To the bride and groom!" he cheered, raising his glass in your direction.

All eyes were on you as your husband led you to the car. You didn't recognize a single face in the crowd, but you hadn't expected to. The people who had sold you had gotten what they wanted, and this arrangement was a win-win for them.

You settled into the back seat of the car, the leather sticking to your bare back. You adjusted your white silk dress nervously, and he sat down beside you, his jaw and fists clenched, the tension palpable. You drove in silence for a while, stealing glances at your new husband, his expression stern and unreadable.

Wanting to break the silence, you considered a joke or maybe a compliment about his looks, but instead opted for the safest option. "Hi, I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you," you said quietly, extending your hand.

He chuckled slightly, and you appreciated his handsome smile as he took your hand, giving it a gentle shake. "Hello, I'm Elijah," he replied.

You exchanged smiles, and the tension in the car began to dissipate. The street lights reflected in his eyes as the car headed toward an unknown destination.

"Do you know where we are going?" you asked.

"The airport," he responded, gazing out the window with a hint of bitterness.

"Not a fan of flying?" you inquired, trying to discern Elijah's emotions.

"No, it's not that," he sighed softly and placed his hand on yours. "I'm sorry this happened to you. When I began negotiating an alliance with your faction, I didn't know they would require a marriage, I agreed to it for peace." he explained.

You shrugged, attempting to suppress the emotions swirling within you. "They've wanted to get rid of me for a while," you confessed.

Before he could inquire further, you arrived at the airport. A private plane awaited you, and you crossed the windy tarmac in your wedding dress, Elijah shielding you from the chill. You hoped someone had remembered to pack you a change of clothes.

Seated in the plane, the gentle hum of the engines made you instantly drowsy. You reached for a glass of champagne, quickly downing it before pouring another.

Elijah took a seat beside you, selecting a book from a pile on the table. He watched you consume your second glass, a playful smirk playing on his lips. "Are you alright?" he inquired.

"No," you admitted, shifting in your seat and closing your eyes.

"Don't like flying?" he teased.

"Hilarious," you replied sarcastically, before turning in your seat, surrendering to sleep before the plane had even taken off.

You awoke to the sound of the arrival announcement. You noticed a warm blanket on you and realized your head was resting on Elijah's shoulder. He smelled faintly of alcohol and nice cologne, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of embarrassment at the sudden intimacy with a stranger, although you supposed he wasn't one anymore.

"Apparently, we're in Canada," he informed you in a soft tone, offering a gentle smile.

"What?" you replied, lifting your head from his shoulder and peering out the window to see nothing but white.

"I suppose my brother's adventure for us involves some cold," he remarked.

The plane touched down, and the pilot's announcement revealed a bone-chilling temperature of -20°C. Panic set in as you realized your thin dress offered no defense against the frigid cold.

"I don't suppose you happen to have a winter coat?" you asked, your tone flat with a hint of desperation.

Elijah calmly removed his suit jacket and handed it to you, offering a warm smile. As he stood in just his dress shirt, concern flashed in your eyes. "It's alright; vampires don't get cold," he reassured you. "Besides, I'll get us to the car quickly.”

He was being humble when he said 'quickly.' He wrapped his arms around you, and in a literal instant, you found yourselves in the warmth of the waiting car, with Elijah in the driver's seat, studying his phone with a furrowed brow.

"It seems our destination is a cottage up a mountain," he said, clearly displeased as he reviewed the itinerary on his phone.

"Not a fan of snow?" you chuckled.

"I'm not a fan of my brother playing games," he replied as he pulled out of the airport.

The drive up the mountain was a strange mix of anticipation and discomfort. The grandeur of nature unfolding around you offered a stark contrast to the peculiar circumstances that had brought you together. You gazed out of the car window, lost in your thoughts.

After a while, it was Elijah who dared to break the silence, his voice carrying a genuine curiosity. "You mentioned your family wanted to get rid of you. Why?" he asked, his eyes shifting briefly from the winding road to you.

Your gaze remained focused on the passing landscape, a mixture of mountain vistas and dense forests. "I wouldn't call them family," you replied, a hint of bitterness in your tone. "They weren't my blood, and they certainly didn't treat me as such. They wanted to get rid of me because I was no longer of value."

Elijah furrowed his brow, seeking to understand. "No longer of value?" he inquired, his voice gentle.

With a deep breath, you began to unravel the unfortunate chapter of your life. "With the human faction, marriage pacts are common. After I lost my parents, they took me in, providing for my clothing, food, and education, with the understanding that, in return, I'd remain pure until they could marry me off," you paused, your eyes meeting his for a brief moment, searching for any hint of judgment. "I didn't remain pure," 

He listened attentively, his warm smile putting you at ease. "Well, you will fit in with my family just fine," he said with a sweet smile. "Purity isn't our thing either. You're free from all that now."

You couldn't help but chuckle bitterly at the irony of the situation. "Out of the frying pan…" you mumbled, a sense of resignation in your words. "I know all about your family. I don't think this will end well for me."

The falling snow whipped past the car windows, obscuring any view beyond. You arrived at the cottage, and you sucked in the cold air as Elijah whisked you inside. He disappeared momentarily before returning with your bags. You sat on the sofa, taking in the place. It was more of a chalet than a cottage, and you couldn't help but shiver in the chilly interior. Elijah noticed.

"I'll gather some firewood," he said, heading outside.

You got up and explored the place, finding some whiskey and taking swigs straight from the bottle as you wandered. Your attention was captured by a sizable record collection, and you began to browse. You found a record you liked and started playing it, swaying to the music in an attempt to warm up.

Elijah returned inside, his arms laden with firewood, determined to make your cold sanctuary warm and cozy. His eyes softened as he noticed your shivering form.

"I'll get a fire going," he said, his voice gentle. He quickly set about arranging the logs, expertly lighting them, transforming the room with the comforting glow and crackle of the flames.

Taking your icy hands in his, he remarked, "Your hands are freezing." He brought you closer to the fire, the warmth seeping into your chilled skin. You couldn't help but be captivated by his kindness and the concern in his eyes.

"You need to warm up," he insisted, his voice a soothing melody.

“You are nicer than I was expecting,” you replied, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

“I know my family's reputation is not great, but you are a part of it now. I want you to know I will always protect you,” he said softly, his words sincere and reassuring.

You nodded, feeling a rush of gratitude for his understanding and genuine care. "I believe you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

He pulled you in and held you close, trying to warm you up; you found yourself drawn to him, his charm and sweetness melting your reservations. In that moment, overwhelmed by his kindness, you leaned in and kissed him softly.

When you pulled away, his expression was both surprised and understanding. "You don't have to do that," he said, his tone gentle. "You're not obligated to do anything with me just because of our situation."

His words filled you with a mixture of relief and gratitude. Here was a man, a vampire, who respected your boundaries, a stark contrast to the people who had controlled your life before.

Elijah guided you to the soft rug in front of the crackling fire, arranging the blankets around you to ensure you stayed warm. The bottle of whiskey sat between you, its amber contents promising warmth from the inside out. You extended the bottle to him, a silent invitation to share in the fleeting comfort of alcohol.

You both drank in companionable silence, the warmth from the fire seeping into your bones, the whiskey adding a pleasant haze to the room. As the evening wore on, conversation flowed more freely, and the barriers between you began to dissolve with every shared story and laugh.

Elijah stood and helped you up, his hand finding its way to your waist, and before you knew it, he was leading you in a slow dance, his movements graceful and confident. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, swaying to the music.

"What is this song?" he asked, his voice barely audible over the music.

"It's called bitter sweet symphony,'' you replied, your eyes meeting his. "It's one of my favorites."

He nodded in agreement, his gaze fixed on yours. "I like the strings, the whole thing is very melancholic," he observed.

You smiled, your fingers tracing patterns on his shoulder. "I find it beautiful. It's a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, don't you think? Even in the face of adversity, we keep going."

He regarded you with a mixture of curiosity and admiration. "Something you have a lot of experience in, I gather," he said, his tone appreciative.

"I wouldn't say I'm resilient," you responded modestly, the music guiding your movements. "More like adaptable. Life throws curveballs, and you either adapt or get swept away."

He pulled you closer, the dance now a slow, intimate sway. "Indeed, life has a way of testing us. But it also brings unexpected joys."

The dance continued, a silent conversation unfolding between you, transcending words. As the music wove its spell, you felt a vulnerability and connection with Elijah that surpassed the constraints of your forced union. The walls you had built around yourself began to crumble, and you found solace in the unexpected warmth of his embrace.

A soft smile played on your lips. “You're not the monster they make you out to be," you replied, your words carrying a newfound trust.

Feeling an unspoken longing between you, you reached out, your fingers tracing a delicate path along his jawline, your touch conveying what words couldn't express. His eyes, dark and intense, met yours with understanding, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. You pulled him closer, your lips meeting in a passionate kiss that ignited a spark, setting the room ablaze with desire.

His response to your kiss was a slow, seductive smile that went straight to your core. He gently slid a hand around the back of your neck, his fingers winding in your hair. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice a low murmur.

You nodded, your own desire mirrored in your eyes. "Yes," you whispered, placing your hands on his chest.

With a sudden surge of intensity, he lifted you effortlessly, his arms strong and secure as he carried you to the nearby sofa. The room seemed to come alive, dancing with shifting shadows painted by the flickering firelight. He gently set you down on the plush sofa, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You are truly exquisite," he murmured softly, as he carefully peeled your wedding dress away, letting it cascade onto the floor like a waterfall of silk and lace.

"I-I think you're beautiful too," you stammered, your words catching in your throat, feeling the chill creep back in after losing the warmth of your dress. You reached out, your fingers trembling slightly, and began to unbutton his shirt.

His smile remained warm and affectionate as he took your hands, pressing a gentle kiss upon them. With a swift motion, he shed his shirt, and pressed his skin to yours in a tender embrace, an effort to restore the warmth that had been lost. He shifted you so you lay side by side, pulling your thigh up to wrap around his hip, the other hand gently cupping your neck as he kissed you softly.

You lingered there for a while as his hands explored the curves of your body. Your own hands ventured, touching his toned chest and shoulders, marveling at the strength beneath your fingertips.

His lips trailed soft, lingering kisses down your neck, each one a tender declaration of affection. His gentle gestures made you blush, the heat of your cheeks contrasting with the cool air in the room. You couldn't help but giggle from the sheer sweetness of his actions.

His hand glided down between you, his fingertips tracing the sensitive skin just above the edge of your white lace panties. A soft moan escaped your lips, a rush of heat pooling between your legs as his hand ventured beneath the fabric. He began to slowly circle your clit, the hand that rested on your neck pushed your head forward, his lips capturing yours in another gentle kiss.

His fingers traced slow, deliberate circles, their casual dips down to your opening making you moan softly into his mouth. The sensation was exquisite, driving you closer to climax with each subtle movement.

“You make such lovely sounds,” he hummed against your lips, then he dipped a finger inside you.

You let out a low, desperate whine, your hips instinctively rocking into his hand. You closed your eyes and swore under your breath, your voice barely audible, your fingers clutching at his neck as he continued to work his magic with his skillful hand.

He smiled, clearly savoring the way you were unraveling under his touch. He slowly pulled his hand away, leaving you achingly empty for a moment before repositioning you. Suddenly, you found yourself underneath him, your back pressed into the softness of the sofa, desire reflected in his eyes.

He began trailing soft kisses and teasing bites down your body, each touch sending electric pulses of need through you.

With slow, deliberate movements, he removed your panties, the fabric sliding off with a tantalizing intimacy that sent your heart racing. He pushed your thighs up, his fingers briefly teasing your clit before he leaned in, his hot breath against your skin.

Then, with an agonizing slowness that made your breath catch, he lowered his head, his tongue finding its way to your clit, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. The world blurred into a haze of sensation, his expertise evident in every flick and swirl, each touch bringing you closer to your peak.

You ran a trembling hand through his hair, your fingers gripping the strands as you surrendered to his tongue. Your hips moved in a desperate rhythm with his mouth, seeking more of the exquisite sensation he was providing.

His hands pressed into your thighs with firm, possessive intent, holding you in place, stilling your movements. With each flick of his tongue, each press of his lips, you felt the tension rising within you, like a coiled spring ready to release.

You couldn't hold back any longer, and your body convulsed as the waves of pleasure overtook you. It was a moment of pure bliss, your cries echoing in the room, as your fingers tangled in his hair. He didn't falter in his attentions, riding you through the aftershocks of your climax.

Your body was still pulsating with the aftermath of the first orgasm, yet he skillfully coaxed another wave of pleasure from within you. He pushed two fingers inside you, finding that perfect spot, and your moans grew louder, filling the room.

"My pretty little wife," he murmured in a seductive whisper. The rhythm of his fingers and his tongue on your overly-sensitive clit created a delicious combination.

You squeezed your eyes shut, completely overtaken by the sensations, your body responding eagerly to his skilled touch. The second orgasm began to build, a powerful surge of pleasure that threatened to consume you entirely. His deep hum against you made you squirm, your legs shaking as you moaned.

His hand shifted from your thigh, splaying across your lower stomach with just the right amount of pressure to hold you down, halting your movements completely. His control heightened the intensity of the moment, trapping you in a delicious blend of pleasure and surrender.

You came apart a second time on his tongue, your body writhing with pleasure as you looked down at his handsome face, his lips glistening with your wetness.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, your voice barely audible, your eyes locking onto his. He made his way back up your body, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss. Cupping his face with your hands, you traced the lines of his jaw affectionately as your lips moved in a heated dance, the taste of your shared desire lingering between you.

You pulled off your bra, the cool air of the room contrasting with the heat that radiated between you. His eyes were glued to your every move, filled with desire as you exposed yourself to him. His gaze slowly traced over the curves of your body with a look of admiration and hunger.

He positioned your legs around his hips, and you could feel his cock through the fabric of his pants. You reached down to unzip him, but he caught your wrists with a swift yet gentle motion, pinning them above your head with a possessive grip, his eyes locking onto yours in a dark, intense gaze.

“Stay just like this,” he said firmly. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before pulling back, his eyes never leaving yours as he removed his pants, the room filled with a charged anticipation that crackled in the air between you.

He leaned in closer, his handsome form fully on display, the intensity in his eyes growing as he gazed down at you. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the anticipation building between you. His cock brushed against your clit, a tantalizing tease that made you let out a soft, desperate moan.

Unable to resist the urge to touch him, you lowered your hands to feel him. He let out a quiet "tsk" and shook his head gently, guiding your hands back above your head. His lips curved into a soft smile, as he held you in place, his dominance making your heart race.

His eyes bore into yours with a gentle intensity as placed a pillow under your hips and positioned himself. With a deliberate yet tender motion, he guided himself slowly inside you, filling you inch by inch. A gasp escaped your lips as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours and rocking his hips gently. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure through you, his pelvis brushing against your clit with every stroke, creating a delicious friction that made your toes curl.

He let go of your wrists and his lips met yours in a passionate kiss, and your breaths became shallow as you clung to his arms, your nails digging into his skin.

He maintained his agonizingly slow pace, a rhythm that kept you on the precipice of release. You could feel his eyes on you, studying your reactions before your eyes fluttered closed and your brows arched in pleasure. His hot breath danced on your skin as he whispered soft encouraging words, his lips trailing up your neck, nibbling your ear. Each touch, each whisper, pushed you closer to the edge, intensifying the pleasure that pulsed through every fiber of your being.

"Tell me what you want," he murmured, his voice a seductive melody that made your breath catch in your throat.

"I... I want," you stammered, your voice shaky with desire, your hands clutching at his chest.

"What?" he teased, slowing his pace even more, pulling all the way out before plunging back in, savoring the exquisite torture he was subjecting you to. "You have to tell me," he insisted, his words laced with a playful yet commanding tone.

"More, please," you begged. He took your hands from his chest and pinned your wrists above your head again, your body aching for more of his touch.

"Like this?" he asked, his thrusts becoming deeper and rougher, each one hitting your sweet spot with a precision that made you gasp in pleasure.

"Y-yes, yes, yes," you whimpered, your back arching involuntarily, your legs trembling beneath him as the pleasure intensified, pushing you closer to the edge of climax.

He leaned back, and his eyes locked onto yours, a warm smile forming on his face as he enjoyed the flush of your cheeks in response to his actions. With a gentle touch, he ran his thumb over your clit, feeling the immediate response of your body, tightening around him in pleasure. A low hum of approval escaped his lips as he continued to graze your clit, attuning himself to your body's responses.

The room was filled with the intoxicating sounds of your bodies colliding, mingled with soft moans and the crackling of the fire. Elijah's gaze darkened as the pace of his thrusts gradually increased, the desire between you igniting the air. He released your pinned wrists, his hands guiding your thighs up around your waist, spreading them wide, pushing his cock even deeper.

His thrusts grew more urgent, a relentless rhythm that was hard and passionate. Your body tensed, the overwhelming pleasure reaching its peak as you came completely undone, your head falling back, and your back arching as you moaned his name.

"That's it, beautiful wife," he said softly, his voice strained as his own peak approached.

His own climax surged through him, a wave of heat and pleasure washing over you both. He let out a low groan as his body relaxed. Leaning forward, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss, his mouth melding with yours in a heated exchange. The room seemed to pulse with the aftermath of your shared pleasure, the fire casting a warm, golden glow over your entwined bodies.

"You are perfect," he whispered against your lips, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into a sitting position in his lap. You were still breathless, placing your hands on his chest as you looked into his dark eyes. 

"This is not how I pictured this night going," you said softly, a contented smile playing on your lips. 

"How did you picture it?" He asked gently, his fingers tracing down your spine as he spoke.

You took a deep breath, your fingers tracing invisible patterns on his chest as you gathered the courage to speak your truth. "I thought you might kill me," you confessed, your voice barely audible, carrying the weight of your fears. "I have this fear of vampires. They killed my parents, and I've been haunted by that memory ever since."

Elijah's eyes softened with understanding, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "I am truly sorry for the pain you've endured," he said, his voice laced with genuine empathy. "You're incredibly brave for facing your fears and allowing yourself to trust me."

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat as you continued. "My adoptive parents married me off to you as punishment, not expecting any kindness from you. But you've shown me a side of vampires I never knew existed. I didn't expect this... warmth, this understanding."

Elijah's hand cupped your face with a gentle reassurance. "I take my vows seriously," he said, his voice unwavering. "You are my wife now, and I will protect and care for you always."

In that moment, the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his eyes filled you with hope, erasing some of the lingering pain and fear. 

With a single, elegant motion, he effortlessly lifted you into his arms, holding you close as he guided both of you into the shower. The hot water cascaded over you, cleansing your bodies of the remnants of passion and desire. He gently pressed you against the cool, slick tile, his lips capturing yours in a soft, lingering kiss. His hands asserted a possessive grip on your waist, drawing your body in close to his.

You pulled back, your breath momentarily catching in your throat as his affectionate touch lingered. The hot water continued to flow over your relaxed bodies. "You know," you confessed, "I think I might actually really like you."

He grinned bashfully, his eyes filled with adoration, and leaned in to kiss you again. You could feel his cock harden against your leg, his desire reignited by your proximity.

You pushed lightly on his chest, moving both of you around so his back was against the tile, the warm water streaming down from above his head. You pressed your lips against his neck, then trailed kisses down his shoulder and chest.

Your hands glided over his damp skin, tracing the contours of his muscles as you moved downward, your lips leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. His breath hitched when you reached his abdomen, and you glanced up, locking eyes with him before continuing your descent.

You took his cock in your hand, feeling the weight and heat in your palm. His sharp intake of breath spurred you on, and you pressed a lingering kiss to the sensitive tip before trailing your tongue along his length, savoring the salty taste of his desire. His hand threaded through your hair, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.

You closed your lips around him, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head, eliciting a low groan from deep within his throat. The water cascading around both of you seemed to heighten the intensity of the moment, amplifying every sensation. His fingers tugged on your hair, his touch both commanding and gentle, guiding your pace.

His hips moved in response, a silent plea for more, and you obliged, taking him deeper. His groans filled the steamy air, your lips and tongue working in harmony to bring him to the brink, his breaths turning shallow and erratic. A satisfied smile played on your lips as you reveled in the power of making a man like him come undone.

You gazed up at him through your fluttering eyelashes, giving him your most innocent expression as you intensified your movements. You pushed your head further down, burying your face into his pelvis, and with a deep groan, he found release down your throat.

Elijah leaned against the tiled shower wall, catching his breath, a satiated smile playing on his lips as he looked down at you with admiration. You, on the other hand, wore a confident smirk, the satisfaction of pleasuring him evident in your eyes. 

Elijah placed a gentle kiss on your lips as you stood together under the warm cascade of water, both of you still savoring the shared moment of passion. He then guided you out of the shower, wrapping a large, fluffy towel around your shoulders before drying himself off.

As you both made your way to the bedroom, the soft hum of the bathroom fan in the background, he looked at you with affection. "You're quite extraordinary," he whispered, his voice filled with warmth.

"Why? Was that your first blowjob?" You teased, giving him a sweet smile. 

He let out a little chuckle, his laughter filled with warmth. He pulled the blankets back on the bed and you both got underneath them. You gladly snuggled up next to him, laying your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. In that moment, wrapped in his arms, you felt a sense of peace and contentment, knowing that you were exactly where you wanted to be.

{Part Two} {Part Three}