#I don't think it was Mark's intention to make it quite so clear

[lounaticm]

I'm drawn to him, apparently. (I recall seeing someone post that, if you found Dark's ending in your first three runs in Heist, you weren't looking for him, he was looking for you, and I just remember seeing that and getting all giddy and shit because... yeah. Sounds about right. He would be looking for me lol. He missed me clearly as much as I missed him.)

I've seen posts about the difference in dialogue between the two trying to convince us of who to shoot! They listed the entirety of both - as far as they could distinguish it - and it really is quite clear who is who (in hindsight, especially) and that Dark's not lying.

I remember seeing art of Dark in a white suit start going around and thinking it looked cool as hell. Later saw a screencap of Mark saying he was stealing the idea. So imagine how much I fuckin screeched when I saw Dark in a white suit in Heist some couple years after. 😆 I was beside myself, legitimately. Went on a full-on rant to my mom about it (after getting all the Heist endings, because of course I got Dark's ending first lol. Same thing happened in Date too. I think I've got a built-in Dark-magnet lol)

THAT. IS. INCREDIBLE. OMG. (Not me probably gonna rant to my mom about it shortly lol) I'M DYINGGGG

Pfft that's amazing - I mean with Date, it's totally legit, like only 10 endings, but a 1/31 chance and still went straight to Dark??? You're ✨magical✨!! 🤩

[flowerbunnyboo]

PROSTATE PLAY | back

starring: oc (Adam) x male reader

summary: Adam is a urologist, a doctor that deals with penises and prostates. Little did he expect to have one of the best sex ever with a random patient on a random day

nsfw

a/n: this is a repost. I have written one with a kpop idol. Thought I should post this without a kpop idol for the non kpop fans because I love the sayuncle videos

It was a typical Wednesday morning at Dr. Adam’s urology clinic. Patients trickled in, each with their unique set of urinary issues. Adam, a tall and handsome man in his early thirties, greeted them with a warm smile as he efficiently diagnosed and treated various conditions - from kidney stones to prostatitis.

Just before lunch, a new patient arrived, introducing himself as Mn. He looked to be in his late twenties, with short dark hair and piercing eyes that seemed to hold a secret. As Mn settled onto the examination table, Adam couldn't help but notice the way his slender fingers drummed against his thigh, betraying a hint of nervousness.

“So, tell me Mr. Mn”,Adam began, leaning over the chart, “What seems to be the problem?”

Mn shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the sterile white room before finally meeting Adam’s gaze.

“Well, Doctor... I've been experiencing some discomfort down there,” he gestured vaguely towards his crotch, his voice dropping to a whisper. “It's like... my dick just feels off sometimes”

Adam raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. “Off, how exactly? Painful? Tingly? Or perhaps... “. His voice trailed off suggestively as he allowed his gaze to linger on Mn's lap, where a noticeable bulge strained against the fabric of his jeans.

Mn's cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and he quickly looked away, clearing his throat. “N-no pain, really. Just... sensitivity, I guess. And sometimes it gets hard without warning”

Adam nodded thoughtfully, making a note on the chart making another mark beside 'Premature Ejaculation'.

He glanced up at Mn through his lashes, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Hmm, interesting. Well, let's take a closer look, shall we?”

Without waiting for a response, Adam reached for the stethoscope hanging from his neck and deftly unbuttoned Mn's pants.

The cool metal pressed against sensitive skin as he listened intently, his breath hot against Mn's inner thigh.

“Mmm, sounds healthy enough”, Adam murmured, his fingers trailing lightly along the waistband of Mn's boxers. “But I think we should rule out any potential prostate issues. Just a routine exam, don't worry”

Mn bit his lip, trying to ignore the thrill that shot through him at Adam’s touch. ‘Prostate exam?’ Was that normal for this kind of visit? He didn't think so, but the doctor's confident demeanor put him at ease.

Adam carefully peeled down Mn's boxers, exposing his erect cock to the cool air of the exam room. A low whistle escaped his lips. “My, you're quite the one, aren't you?”

Mn's face burned even hotter, but he couldn't help shying under the praise.

Adam’s hands were gentle as they wrapped around his shaft, giving it a slow squeeze. “Relax, this won't hurt a bit”, the doctor assured him, his thumb rubbing teasing circles over the sensitive head.

As Adam began to stroke Mn's length, the young man felt his resolve crumbling.

The pleasure was overwhelming, and Mn found himself arching into Adam’s touch, his hips instinctively rocking to meet those skilled fingers. “Oh god, that feels...amazing”, he panted, his eyes fluttering shut.

Adam smiled to himself, pleased by the reaction. He picked up the pace, pumping Mn's cock with increasing urgency. “You're doing great, just relax and enjoy it”, he cooed, leaning in close to murmur against Mn's ear.

The heat of Adam’s breath sent shivers down Mn's spine, and he could feel his balls drawing up tight, signaling his impending climax. But just as he teetered on the edge, Adam abruptly pulled away, leaving Mn aching and empty.

“Almost there, but not yet”

Adam said with a wink, his own erection straining visibly against his scrubs. “Now, let's see about that prostate of yours...”

Before Mn could protest, Adam had positioned himself between his thighs, one hand guiding Mn's leg up and over his hip. The other hand, slick with lube, pressed insistently against Mn's rear entrance.

“Oh!”, Mn gasped, surprised by the sudden intrusion. But instead of pain, a wave of intense pleasure washed over him as Adam’s finger breached his tight hole.

“That's it, just relax”, Adam soothed, slowly working his finger deeper. “You're doing fantastic”

Mn moaned, his head falling back as he surrendered to the sensation. Adam finger curled inside him, stroking that magical spot that made stars explode behind his eyelids.

”Doctor”, Mn whimpered, his voice trembling with need, “please... I need..”

He didn't even know what he needed anymore, only that the ache within him demanded to be filled.

Adam must have understood, because suddenly he was removing his finger and replacing it with the thick head of his own cock.

Mn cried out as he felt that first delicious stretch, his body Adam the invasion. Adam pushed in inch by glorious inch until he was buried to the tip, filling Mn completely.

For a moment, they simply stayed like that, caught in the haze of pleasure. Then Adam began to move, withdrawing until just the tip remained inside Mn before plunging back in with a deep, satisfying thrust.

“Yes, oh god yes”, Mn chanted, his hands fisting in the sheets as he met each powerful stroke.

The room echoed with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, punctuated by their ragged breathing and muffled groans. Adam set a relentless pace, driving into Mn with precision and passion, his hips snapping forward with each thrust.

Mn's world narrowed to the feeling of being so thoroughly claimed, so utterly owned by this handsome doctor. He'd never experienced anything like it, and the intensity threatened to consume him whole.

“Harder, please”, Mn begged, his voice hoarse with desire. “Fuck me harder!”

Adam obliged, picking up speed until the exam table shook beneath them. He leaned down to capture Mn's mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to tangle with Mn's.

The added stimulation sent Mn careening over the edge.

With a strangled cry, Mn came undone, his orgasm crashing over him like a wave. His cock jerked, painting the sheets below with streaks of cum as wave after wave of bliss pulsed through him.

Through it all, Adam continued to pound into him, chasing his own release. “Fuck, you feel incredible”, he growled against Mn's lips, his thrusts growing erratic as he neared the edge.

With a final, brutal plunge, Adam buried himself to the inside and still Mn could feel every throbbing inch as he erupted inside him. The warmth of his seed flooding Mn's insides triggered another aftershock, leaving them both shaking and spent.

As the aftermath settled, Adam collapsed onto Mn, his weight a comforting pressure against him.

They lay there for a long moment, catching their breath and savoring the intimate silence. Finally, Adam lifted his head to gaze at Mn with a soft, satisfied smile.

“Well, that was certainly an unconventional examination”, he teased, brushing a strand of sweat-dampened hair from Mn's forehead. “But I think we can safely say your physical is complete”

Lets say Mn became a regular at the clinic

©️ flowerbunnyboo 2024. all rights reserved to me. please don't copy my work or reshare without my permission and credit

[feefivefoe]

I guess I'm unintentionally working my way up the age ladder, so Jason next-

This is the first part that contains backstory stuff I gave my reader, so unfortunately this is where a lot of the "they can be anyone" immersion dies, sorry y'all.

Genuinely, he thought he might hate you at first. Even at the preteen age of 12, where children were usually trying to start striving to independence, you had been so...bland.

It's not that you didn't stand out. Quite the contrary. Anywhere Alfred could be found, you were just a step or two behind him. A leech. Only ever speaking in a hushed voice, making the old man strain himself to hear you, surely.

He doesn't think you've ever even looked him in the eye.

It isn't until that summer he starts connecting the dots. You still cling to long sleeved shirts, pants over shorts, even when it's clear you're struggling to not overheat.

Then he catches you in the kitchen in the middle of the night, t-shirt and pajama shorts.

Burn marks, healed yet gruesome, decorate your arms and legs. Based on how they're positioned, he'd argue they probably exist on the rest of your body, too.

And yet, despite his invasion of what you clearly(?) wanted kept hidden, you merely bow your head in shame and offer a meek apology.

That's when he stops seeing you as a problem, but as a victim of consequence.

Not a bratty child who doesn't care enough about the lower class to speak to your new 'sibling,' but a lonely child who had never even once considered he might want to speak to you.

"Mister Wayne and Mister Grayson are very busy." You had said once, matter of factly rather than bitter or sad. "I'm sure they'd spend time with me if they weren't. But they have two lives, so they have less time than anybody."

He doesn't have the heart to tell you that they make time for him. And the rest of Gotham.

As you do with Alfred, you begin to shadow him. Meandering behind him without a care as to what his plans are, happy to receive the barest of acknowledgments.

You hesitate when speaking about yourself, as though taking up his time with mentions of you is an issue. He's starting to understand why.

Jason isn't sure if it's pity or growing affection that keeps him around, at first. For a while, he sees you as more of a sad, wet dog than as his family.

But you begin to connect with peers at school, finding validation outside of those that feel forced to give it to you. You mature, grow up more than you should, and realize the reality of your home life.

And Jason is thrilled! ...and...a little sad? He's happy for you, sure. Having friends is probably what you needed. People who want you around, genuinely. Who choose to make time for you.

But he'd be lying if he said that the way you used to stare at him didn't make him feel like a hero. Like he was doing so much, changing your world, simply by existing.

You still speak, of course. You're friendly siblings that get along well. You give him various foods you've tried making, courtesy of Alfred inspiring a desire to learn to cook and bake on your own. You talk about books you've read together, and listen intently while he rambles about his favorites.

You even peek in after particularly rough patrol nights, just to make sure he's gotten through it okay.

But it isn't...quite the same. No, but it's...it's for the best.

And he is still a hero! As Robin, he's protecting the whole city alongside Batman!

So he's still a hero.

He's still your hero.

"Jay? I was wondering if I could ask you for some help. The show my club is doing is one of those old books you like-"

"They aren't that old."

"-and my character doesn't show up much in the movie-"

"You watched the MOVIE before reading the book!?"

"-so I wanted to ask if you'd help me with characterization!"

He remembers groaning at you and rolling his eyes. "I'm busy tonight. Go watch the dumb, BAD, movie again." He pauses. "Uh, but I can tomorrow. I'll make sure I don't have anything planned, promise."

He saw you pause, and sees the constant same promises pass through you.

"I...have other arrangements. I'll make it up to you next time."

"Ah...sorry, kiddo! Big kid stuff. But next time! You trust your big bro, yeah?"

But this is Jason. Jason doesn't lie to you.

Jason keeps his promises.

You smiled. "Yeah. Tomorrow."

...

Then he died.

[st4rfckerz]

October 23rd - Orgasm Denial

Faith (Charlie Mayhew x nun!reader)

word count: 1.2k

warnings: mdni 18+, blasphemy, religious themes, fingering, oral sex (f receiving)

The afternoon sun casts a warm glow through the windows of the church, filtering in streams of golden light that dance across the wooden floor of Father Charlie's office. The scent of incense lingers in the air, a constant reminder of the sacred space they inhabit. Charlie, fresh from his workout, moves about the room with practiced ease.

Earlier, you had stumbled upon Charlie online workout session, his muscular form glistening with sweat while he peddled away on his exercise bike.

Now you sit in the little wooden chair, your fingertips tracing the worn edges of the armrests. The chair creaks softly as you shift your weight, the sound echoing in the quiet office. He listens intently as you speak, your voice soft yet filled with a quiet determination. You speak of your journey, of the questions that have haunted her since childhood, the doubt that has gnawed at the edges of your faith.

“I can feel it trying to come back to me Father. I just don’t know what to do.”

It's a familiar story, one that Charlie has heard countless times before. The doubts, the questions, the search for meaning in a world that often seems devoid of it. He knows it well, for he too has walked that path.

“It's part of the journey,” he says, his voice low and measured. “A reminder of the sacrifices we make for our faith.”

You nod, understanding the depth of his words. It's clear that Charlie's dedication to his beliefs is unwavering, and the physical manifestations of his commitment are a testament to that devotion. As he rummages through the closet, Charlie's muscular back is exposed, revealing a tapestry of scars and marks that tell a story of pain and penance. His broad shoulders and well-defined muscles tense and relax as he searches for something within the depths of the closet.

“You know Sister,” he says, his voice carrying a hint of melancholy, “Sometimes I wonder if all this suffering is truly worth it. But then I remember the teachings of our Lord, and I know that I must persevere.” He emerges from the closet with a crisp white shirt and a black clerical robe, both items in stark contrast to the sweat-soaked workout clothes he had been wearing moments before.

Charlie removes his shirt, revealing his muscular torso in its entirety. His broad chest and well-defined pectorals rise and fall with each breath, while his bulging biceps flex as he reaches into the closet. You can't help but take in the sight before you. Charlie's physical form is a testament to his dedication, but it also serves as a reminder of the pain he has endured. You notice the prominent veins running along his forearms and hands, a sign of the physical labor he has subjected himself to. Despite the weight of his sins, he carries himself with a quiet dignity that commands attention.

“I think I understand Father.” you nod, unable to tear your gaze away from his intense stare. There's something about Charlie that draws you in, a magnetism that you can't quite pinpoint.

“Good.” Charlie walks over to you, the wooden floorboards creaking under his heavy footsteps, you feel a sense of awe and respect for the man before me. “You always listen so well.” he says, his voice sincere. Charlie's fingers brush against your chin, his touch gentle and fleeting.

You smile at Charlie's compliment, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “I try.” you reply softly.

“No you do,” Charlie slowly bends his knees to meet your eye level. He squints his eyes, his gaze boring into yours. “I see you when I preach, listening, absorbing every word.” Charlie's fingers deftly trace the outline of the cross necklace hanging around your neck. “You don't even try to hide it.” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

Charlie's hands move with a slow, determined purpose as he begins to undo the small button of your skirt. Your hips lift instinctively, allowing him to slide the fabric down your legs.

“Your eyes follow me, like a moth drawn to a flame,” he says, his voice low and husky. “You're drawn to the light, to the promise of salvation.”

He pauses, his hands resting on your hips as he leans in closer. “But even the most devout can be consumed by their own desires.”

Charlie's lips brush against the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. His hands grip your hips, steadying you as he lowers himself onto his knees. You can feel the heat of his breath on your skin as he trails sticky kisses along your collarbone, his lips leaving a path of fire in their wake. His hands slide around to cup your ass, his fingers digging into the flesh as he pulls your clothed cunt closer to his face.

“Lust can be dangerous,” Charlie spreads your legs wider as he speaks. “It can consume you, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake.” He leans in, his breath hot against your skin as his finger glides along the wet patch of your white cotton panties, the damp fabric clinging to the skin. “Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind is still unsure.” He presses his finger more firmly against the material, applying pressure to your sensitive flesh. You gasp, your hips bucking involuntarily, seeking more of his touch.

Charlie's finger presses slowly into your leaking hole through the thin fabric of your panties, eliciting a whine from deep within your throat. “You're so tight,” he breathes, his eyes locked on the erotic sight in front of him. “So eager for more.”

He pushes deeper, his finger sliding in and out of your opening, the cotton material providing a delicious friction that only heightens your arousal. You can feel your body responding to his touch, your inner walls clenching around his digit as if trying to draw him in further.

Charlie's fingers deftly hook into the waistband of your panties, tugging them off and letting them fall to the floor. The cool air hits the exposed skin, causing goosebumps to rise on your flesh.

Without warning, his tongue darts out, licking along your slit. You gasp, your back arching off the chair as he laps at your folds. Your hand buries itself in Charlie's hair and he responds by bringing one of your legs up to rest on his shoulder. His fingers curl upward, seeking that special spot inside of you that sends sparks coursing through your body.

“Close, so close.” you mewl, your body trembling on the edge of release, But just as quickly as the pleasure builds, Charlie slows his movements.

“I know,” his fingers gradually withdrew from your body. He stands up abruptly, leaving you feeling empty. You feel a moment of confusion and disappointment wash over you. Charlie quickly grabs his priestly robe, draping it over his arm. His expression is unreadable, but there's a tension in his jaw that betrays his inner turmoil.

“Proverbs 25:28,” he quotes, his voice carrying a note of warning. “‘Like a city whose walls are broken down is a man who lacks self-control.’” Charlie walks down the hallway, his heavy footsteps echoing in the quiet corridor. As he reaches the door, he pauses, looking back at you with an unreadable expression.

“I'll see you next Sunday.”

[mentally-a-slut]

Can I request "The problem is, if I kissed you, I don't think I'd be able to stop." For Gale with female reader please?

Ahhhhh tysm for requesting! You are my first request! Since you didn't give any specifics about the time frame, I just assumed you wanted it to take place within the events of the game, but it didn't really matter anyway. The reader is left undescribed, though it is implied that she is shorter than Gale. I hope I did your request justice, and let me know what you think!

Prompt: "The problem is, if I kissed you, I don't think I'd be able to stop."

Rating: E

Warnings: I got carried away and made "spicy" into straight up smut... oops? oral (f!receiving), porn with very little plot, smut

Flirting with Gale was a dangerous game. The back and forth we had going on had been constant, never pausing. I loved bantering with him, but the consistent pull back was beginning to kill me.

Harmless flirts with friends are fun, but I had made it abundantly clear to the wizard that it was more than just friendly banter. And as far as I'm concerned, he's been returning that same energy. And yet, every time we get past the line of flirtatious remarks and balance on the edge of action, he would completely pull away. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was afraid of intimacy.

At first I thought he just didn't like me that way, only wanted to banter with nothing coming of it. But something in the way his eyes glittered when he looked at me told me my attraction was not one sided.

When I went to the others for advice, they gave me jack shit. Astarion thought it was hilarious that I was asking him for romantic advice. I had to threaten to cut off his blood supply just to get him to quite yelling about it. Karlach just told me to "fuck it out," whatever that means. Shadowheart just kind of stared at me blankly. I didn't even bother asking Lae'zel, because I value my life. Wyll had good intentions, but he ended up rambling on about proper courtship methods and respectfully, I couldn't care less.

I had exhausted all of my options, which left me with the one thing I had been avoiding: talk to Gale about it.

It was a cool night, a nice change from the overwhelming heat that had layered over our group the last few nights. The day had been uneventful for once, little more than a few ambushes along the roads and some cackling hyenas. The mood around camp was significantly light than usual, everyone content with the lack of carnage.

I didn't give myself much time to rethink my actions, deciding to force myself into the conversation before I could chicken out.

Gale sat in his tent, reading a book with the doors pinned open for anyone to enter. He always stayed awake later than the others, often waiting until everyone else had closed their tents for the night to follow suit. He thought nobody noticed, but it was one of the many things that made me gravitate towards him. He was so naturally protective, unknowingly watching out for everyone.

As always, I took a moment to admire him before he noticed my presence. He looked so calm, contently scanning the pages of the tome in his hands. His everlasting yearning for knowledge was something I couldn't help but admire. I watched as his fingers curled under the parchment of the book and gently flipped the page, hands calloused from years of magical studies.

Gods, his hands that were so veiny and strong, rough but gentle, perfect to glide across my skin and make me shiver with-

"To what do I owe the pleasure?"

I jumped at the sound of his voice, my thoughts that had previously consumed me dissipating. My face felt hot, blushing as if he was able to read my runaway thoughts. "Hi!"

I internally scolded myself for how not-smooth I was being. He carefully marked his place in the book before setting it aside, still seated in his chair as he looked up at me expectantly. His lips twitched into an amused smirk. Handsome bastard knows exactly what he does to me.

"Did you need something from me?"

I tilted my head at his question, blinking as my thoughts grew a mind of their own. I need you to kiss me until I can't breath. Touch me all over and make me shake with pleasure. I shook my head, gathering my thoughts before saying: "Just... wanted to talk to you about something."

He raised an eyebrow, an action that would have had me down on my knees if I had even just a tad bit less dignity. "Is it... a good something, or a bad something?"

My heart started racing in my chest, blood rushing in my ears. "Uhm... well, I suppose it depends. I think it's a good something, but, well, I can't speak for you..."

He stood from his seat, his movements quick but not aggressive. He always took care to control his actions, never making them seem offensive or startling. My eyes widened slightly when he reached behind me to unpin the tent flaps and let them fall closed, his frame slightly hovering over me for a moment as he did so.

His expression was open, concern and care written all over his face. "You can always talk to me. I'm here to listen."

Good gods I want to suck his dick until his brain explodes.

I cleared my throat and shifted nervously, looking up at him. "Right! So, I just... well, I was talking to the others about- actually that's not a good place to start, uhm..."

His amused smirk didn't go unnoticed. He had always liked when I got nervous, especially if he was the reason. "Take your time, darling."

Fucking Hells, he is trying to kill me.

I fought the urge to avert my gaze, forcing myself to keep eye contact. "Uhm, so, you know how we... well, obviously you know, but I mean- Fuck's sake, I mean to say, you know how we, like, flirt?"

His expression didn't falter, smirk growing into a knowing grin. He hummed an acknowledgement that sent vibration through my body, making my heart race even faster. His gaze flickered over my face, then quickly swept down my body, almost fast enough to miss.

"Well, I- Not that I don't like it, I love it! I- I mean, I don't want it to stop I just- Gods damnit, I just wanted to ask- shit... Why don't you just fucking kiss me already?!"

The silence that followed my stuttering words was overwhelming, blanketing over me and making me want to melt away into the earth to never be seen again. My embarrassment only worsened when I heard the slightest chuckle from the man in front of me. My heart dropped as every worst case scenario ran through my head.

He's going to laugh at me, tell me it was just for fun, that he would never want to be with me, he's going to make fun of me to everyone else-

"The problem is, if I kissed you, I don't think I would be able to stop."

I was suddenly aware of how hot it was in the close quarters of the canvas tent, and how Gale was only a few inches in front of me. I brought my eyes up to meet his, blinking rapidly as I tried to process what he just said. His stare held mine, a underlying air of vulnerability in his confession. With a shaky breath, I managed to utter out my response.

"Who said you had to stop?"

His lips crashed against mine within seconds of my hushed words, heated kiss melding our lips together. His hands, his gorgeous hands that I had spent weeks fantasizing about, were gripping my waist and pulling my body flush against his. My mouth moved in sync with his so naturally, so smoothly, that we could have been made for each other.

When I realized my hands were idle, I quickly remedied it and wrapped my arms around his neck. I didn't even notice I was tangling my fingers in his hair until I tugged lightly and was rewarded with a soft groan against my lips. The noise spurred me on, and I nipped at his lip lightly. Soon, our tongues were wildly clashing together, breathing heavy as involuntary sounds of pleasure were exchanged within the kiss.

I yelped when he suddenly lifted me off the ground, hands firmly gripping my ass as he held me. I held onto him, giggling into the kiss as he pressed against me. The stiffness of his arousal against my thigh was enough to make me shiver with anticipation, and he noticed.

He pulled away from my lips reluctantly, settling his forehead against mine. "As much as I want to do this," he glanced down at our positioning, my core level with his growing erection, "I want our first time to be something special."

I tried not to show my disappointment, silently nodding as I prepared myself to drop back onto the floor. As I loosened my thighs from his waist, I squeaked in surprise when his hands roughly squeezed my ass. "Ah ah, I didn't say I was doing to leave you wanting, did I?"

My cheeks reddened as I realized what he was implying. "Oh, Gale, you don't have to-"

"I want to. Trust me, I really, really want to."

His words were drawn out, almost a moan as he pleaded. His darkened eyes were practically begging. "I... If you're sure-"

He cut me off with a searing kiss, turning us around and laying me down on his bedroll. My whole body tingled with excitement as his body hovered over mine, lips desperately kissing down my neck. With the way he was panting as he nipped and kissed down my body, I could almost say he was more excited then me.

His stare was piercing as he looked up from my waist, silently asking for permission. I couldn't help but smile as his fingers grazed the waistband of my pants, impatiently fidgeting with the fabric. "Yes, please, Gale."

He all but tore them off, taking both my pants and underwear off in one go. His hot breath tickled my arousal, and I sighed as his hands lightly caressed the insides of my thighs. His touches were gentle, slow movements spreading open my legs and bearing my glistening entrance to him. I tilted my head up to look down at him, only to find his gaze transfixed between my legs. He practically whimpered his next words: "So fucking pretty for me."

I couldn't help but moan at his words, the heat of his breath ghosting over my clit. His eyes broke away for a moment to look at me, and he gave me a smile that made my heart swell before he dove in.

His beard rubbed against my thighs as his lips and tongue explored my cunt, the burn of his jaw emphasizing the blinding pleasure of his mouth. He moaned against me as he licked a long stripe along my folds, the teasing sensation sending a jolt of want through me. Before I could beg for more, his lips wrapped around my clit, sucking gently as he teased a finger at my entrance.

All coherent thought was left behind, all I could think about was Gale, Gale eating my pussy, moaning into me, rutting into the air as he pleasured me. "Fuck, Gale, please!"

He hummed against me, the vibration adding to the pleasure. He slipped a finger into my dripping hole, pulling his mouth away from my clit to look up at me. "Look at you, darling, so wet and ready for me."

I moaned as he pumped his finger, keeping eye contact with him. When he teased a second one, I couldn't stop my head from falling back with a moan. "Please!"

With a soft groan, he did as I asked. "As you wish."

The stretch of his second finger burned deliciously, his pace torturously slow. My walls pulsed around him, the softest parts of me jolting as he brushed against them. His thumb brushed against my clit as he quickened his pace. I reached out a shaky hand, tangling my fingers in his soft hair and tugging him forward.

He moaned at the tug, immediately replacing his thumb with his mouth. My back arched off the bedroll as he sucked harshly, his fingers brushing against all the right spots. He teased another finger, and my grip in his hair harshened. It must have encouraged him, because he soon plunged a third finger inside of me and relentlessly flicked his tongue over my clit as he finger fucked me.

My thighs began to constrict around him, orgasm fast approaching. He groaned against my cunt, gripping my thighs open and speeding up. "Fuck, I'm close!"

Another hum against me had my walls pulsating, orgasm crashing through me as he coaxed me down with his tongue sending overwhelming jolts of pleasure through me.

He gently removed his fingers, caressing my thigh as he swept his tongue through my folds, gathering my arousal. His gentle movements soothed me through the slight overstimulation as he cleaned me up with his tongue. My vision was unfocused, aftershocks still rolling through my body as he finally pulled away, slowly kissing up my body before planting a sweet kiss on my lips. I chased his kiss as he pulled back, and he chuckled as I pouted. "You did so well for me, love."

I whined at his words, desperately clawing him towards me and pulling him into a slow, sensual kiss. His clothed erection prodded my bare thigh, and he groaned when I shifted against it. "Don't tease me, darling."

I smiled up at him, tilting my head. "Is that a threat?"

He gave an amused hum against the skin of my neck, speaking between soft kisses. His words were teasing, yet heavy with intention.

"It's a promise."

[vilhelios]

— SWIM WITH ME / I THINK I CAN SEE THE BEACH;

( i need you here with me / but we're out in the open. ) ; romantic headcanons for abysswalker!rafayel ♡ more under the cut!

CW: spoilers for rafayel's "sea of golden sand" myth + general abysswalker rafayel lore ; fluff ; angst ; hurt/comfort ; mentions of blood, injury, and self-harm (rafayel plucks off his scales) : might feel a little ooc because it is abysswalker and not main story rafayel ; quite the word dump (bc i rattle my cage for him)

— as the morning light of the desert creeps into the dim of a tent, two bodies lay tangled in the warmth of each other. RAFAYEL sleeps light and wakes early—hours before the sun peeks over the golden dunes—and although the habit irks him, it does offer him a wonderful sight as compensation: the sight of you, bathed in the soft, rose-gold light of morning, hair a mess, marks littering your skin from where the sheets pressed up against you.

overcome with a love that warms him like molten gold, the young god cannot help but litter your face in butterfly kisses. two to the apples of your cheeks, one on the tip of your nose, the corners of your lips, the middle of your temple. when you shift in your sleep, groan at his ministrations, rafayel can only chuckle, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. he thinks he can hear amund yell for his presence. he couldn't care less.

— RAFAYEL sees himself as the sword at the hilt of your belt, the dagger in your hands that you should use as you see fit, the steady hand guiding your own, drawing your bowstring. he is your ever faithful shadow, always at your side, a watchful gaze always on you. it is only natural for one to protect the keeper of their heart... which is why you and the medical kit from the nurse's tent have gotten well acquainted with each other.

"one of these days, you're going to listen to me." you sigh, gently peeling aside the torn leather of his garb. rafayel does not wince; you don't think you've ever seen him do so, not when he ripped that arrow from his shoulder, or when he stumbles back to your tent with a bloody gash on his chest, or when he's brandishing new bruises on his knuckles. the royal guards seem intent on tracking you down, crossing all of philos's 30,000 zetameters of sand to lock you up in your gilded cage again.

rafayel seems equally intent to ensure that doesn't happen, even if it means throwing himself into their line of fire.

"if i listen to you," the lemurian starts, violet gaze trained on the gentle workings of your fingers, "they'll take you from me again, back to the palace." his breath hitches the slightest—at the thought of you leaving him again, or at the too-harsh tug of the bandage, you're not sure.

— some nights, RAFAYEL is awoken by dreams—horrible, lifelike nightmares. it's sudden, a jolt that has him taking in rapid breaths, a tremor in his hands. "a nightmare", he tells you, when you stir awake and ask him what's wrong in a groggy voice that makes his heart ache, "just a nightmare, sweetheart. nothing to worry about." he waits until he hears your breathing slow once more, pressing kisses to your temple all the while, before slinking out of the tent and into the cold desert air. he'll return to your side before the sun rises, but for now, with still-stuttering breaths, he just needs some time to clear his head.

in his nightmares, a butterfly flaps its wings just the wrong way and rafayel is landed in a world where he is as cold-blooded as amund wished he was. he is back in the ruins of the isle of songs, your hand guiding his own (white-knuckled, dagger brandished) to the place where your heart thrums beneath. and unlike himself, rafayel takes the chance: takes back what is his, what was never yours to keep. the god of the sea was a foolish, lovesick man. he would not make the same mistake.

the dagger sinks into your flesh, the ease of it wrong. your blood flows onto his palms, gets into all the creases of his gloves, spills onto the barren earth and dyes the returning sea red. it is so, so warm against his skin, warms the fire in him that threatened to fizzle out. (he has always been a selfish man, he knows. it is only right that he is no better than bloodthristy philos.) the look dream-you gives him, before he awakes from this cruel world, sears itself into the back of his eyelids. he can see it still, when he looks at the dark of the night sky: reverent, loving. (how could you not, when he has freed you yet again?)

— often, you ask RAFAYEL to tell you tales of the ocean; more specifically, its creatures! what were those rays he spoke of, or the sharks, or those star-shaped things? do the lemurians actually eat them? your lover finds your boundless curiousity incredibly endearing, chuckling whenever your eyes seem to light up at the mention of some new deep-sea fish.

"this is a whale shark." rafayel says, and you watch as the scale in his hands transforms into a small purple apparition. it's as long as his pointer finger, heteroceral tail flicking as it swims in the flame currents, light purple spots patterning its black back. "they are gentle things, despite their size. they only ever eat plankton. i used to have one as a pet, long ago."

"how cute!" you laugh, waggling your finger in front of the shark and watching it follow. "did you have other pets?" and at that, he procures another silver scale, places it into your palms and covers it with his own. a barreleye manifests, and you grin when it's luminous purple eyes stare up at you.

(rafayel ignores the sting in his arm, pinpricks of blood soaking his garb from where he'd plucked some scales off. the wonder in your eyes is more than worth it.)

— helping the LEMURIANS with their daily chores within the camp comes like second nature to you. there is always so much to do: collect jars upon jars of water from the nearby oasis, prepare food, feed the camels, record the state of the camp's supplies... all the while, you feel RAFAYEL'S eyes on your form, your ever cautious vassal. with a little smile, you pretend you don't notice his lavender gaze, if only to spare him from the flushed ears.

it's surprisingly simple, making that lemurian cake: tapioca flour, camel's milk, a healthy dash of sugar, and citrus rind... when the sweet old woman you've spent the afternoon baking with feeds you a slice, you think you've simply ascended. back then, rafayel had fed you one that was cold and a little stale—probably as it was a part of his rations for long journeys. perhaps he'd like one that was far fresher, and baked with love?

... which is how rafayel found himself with a wicker basket full of cake shoved into his hands, and an awaiting you in front of him. "you've been training a while, haven't you?" you smile, taking one of the soft slices and bringing it up to his lips; "try it for me, please!"

and as obedient as ever, rafayel takes a bite, sweetness and citrus on his tongue. "it's good," he hums, kisses your fingertips, "tell me when you're making it next time, love. i'd love to help."

— the LEMURIANS, you remember, were masters of the arts: singing, painting, poetry... so it's no surprise, then, that they celebrate their craft almost every night: children crowd around a charming poet, hooked on every word of their newest bedtime story—his newest fable, that is (something about a fish and a bird, who wished to visit a bakery); the musicians have already begun their newest improvised song, a lively version of an old elegy, it seems; the bonfire in the centre burns high into the night sky like it was trying to reach the stars itself, and when the lemurians dance around it their shadows are long against the sands. you don't know how, but you're eventually dragged into the dance yourself. the glee is infectious, and you find yourself instinctively looking for your beloved.

RAFAYEL doesn't indulge in dancing often, as fun as it may be. he knows the steps, his feet still tapping to the rhythm of the tambourines even as he nonchalantly leans against the tent pole in the distance. it is second nature, now, but his eyes always find you, even in the crowd of people—you, laughing and twirling around without a care in the world. it makes his heart race, a smile creeping onto his own features. he watches you dance with his people, linking arms and being spun around; for a moment he wonders if he should join just to be your one and only dance partner.

... he doesn't notice when you've escaped his gaze, but before he knows it, you've snuck up on him and wrapped a shawl around his neck, dragging him towards the crowd; "dance with me, rafa!"

and how can he refuse a shared moment that transcends lifetimes—across shimmering oceans, and marble floor ballrooms, and golden sands? rafayel's stumbling forward into you until his arms take their rightful place around your form. his hands find the small of your back and yours hold onto his shoulders, shawl long abandoned on his neck. this is second nature, galaxies colliding, two souls becoming one.

— after all of the night's festivities are said and done—the musicians pack up their flutes, lyres, and tambourines; the children cover up their yawns with still-red palms from clapping to tonight's tunes; the remaining food is safely packed away for tomorrow—it's just you, RAFAYEL, and the dwindling embers of the fire he'd just stomped out. "i do believe even your highness is not exempt from curfew," he hums, takes your hand in his, and presses his lips to the knuckles.

and in the silence of your tent, coveted in the silver hues of moonlight, rafayel sits you down before him, your back leaning against his chest. his arms wrap around your frame, his chin resting on the crook of your neck. this is your ritual, on too-cold nights: rafayel lights a flickering flame in his palms, the black and violet embers cold as ever. you both stare into this dying fire—you both know what is to come.

sometimes, when the ugly concoction of guilt and sorrow prick at your very soul, your hand reaches up to entwine with his own, just as they did to guide his dagger to your heart. "i won't." rafayel says, and you know what he means. "i will never hurt you." he doesn't complete the sentence, the words dying on his tongue, but you know the rest (there is no other end to this story): i would rather die.

a/n : i need abysswalker carnally it's not even funny anymore 🤩 these were. not supposed to be this long (they are like little fics in themselves omg). but i love this rafa so much i think he deserves it. thank you for the love on the previous rafa content <3 it makes me so happy seeing people who also love this lil guy. the dancing with rafa hc is very much so inspired by "through heaven's eyes" from the prince of egypt! <3333

[aslashphoenix]

So, it’s time that we discuss GO2 ending and why I think Metatron has ASSURED the success of the INEFFABLE PLAN a.k.a, the second coming. (Or has he?)

So first things first: the obvious.

After 6.000 years together on earth, we have established, with any trace of doubt that Crowley and Aziraphale LOVE EACH OTHER. 

We’ve also learned that Demons have morals (by Crowley refusing to destroy everything Job holds dear). And that Angels can be TEMPTED (by Aziraphale accepting the food and lying not only to the archangels but to the SUPREME archangel, that those were Job’s new kids). 

So, that brings us to the declaration. 

Crowley it’s trying so hard to make Aziraphale see that he loves him, completely and unapologetically. That they are more than Heaven and Hell, they are an US.

During that speech, we see Aziraphale very conflicted. He jumps from happy to confused, to sad and angry. He even forcefully pleads Crowley to accept going to heaven with him, using every word that he knows works, in hopes to change his mind (He was desperate when he blared that “I NEED YOU”). 

But Crowley doesn't yield, he's still trying to make Aziraphale realize he's wrong for choosing Heaven over them. Which brings me to this dialogue: 

C: “Listen, do you hear that”  A: “I don't hear anything”  C: “That's the point, no nightingales”. “You idiot, we could have been US”

At that exact moment, Aziraphale looks away from temptation, because let's be clear, Crowley IS TEMPTING HIM. But when Crowley sees that words won't reach him, he launches into a desperate kiss, pouring all his heart. 

When they brake apart, Aziraphale looks distressed, almost on the brink of tears. He is fighting too many emotions within himself and you can see a split moment when he almost says yes to Crowley, but instead, he resisted temptation by saying “I forgive you”

But why you ask? Why is Aziraphale trying so hard to resist Crowley's temptation? Simple: Metatron. 

Metatron used his celestial powers of conviction on Aziraphale by using the coffee as a ploy for his manipulations, but not by spiking it. Metatron went to earth with one simple plan in mind: Make Aziraphale convince Crowley to convert into an Angel or break them apart.  

When Metatron arrived, Aziraphale was clearly uncomfortable with his presence and made quite clear that he had no intention of hearing him out, “I don’t believe there’s anything left to be said. I’ve made my position quite clear.” but then, everything changed with this conversation:

A: “You brought me a coffee?” M: ”Are you going to take it?” A: ”Shal I…?” M: “Drink it? Of course. I’ve ingested things in my time, you know.��� A: “It’s …Oh, it’s very nice”.  M: “Yes, I should jolly well hope so”

This for me, it’s the utmost form of manipulation from Metatron. The coffee represents an olive branch, offered as a ruse for Aziraphale to completely trust him and let his guard down, by implying that he is not so righteous himself and also enjoys the guilty pleasures that humankind has to offer (let's remember that Angels do not require eating for sustenance, so when Aziraphale does it, it's simply for the pleasure of it. Something viewed as a lack of strong morals for an Angel). Metatron even reinforced this by smiling at him, knowingly.

But he is clearly FAKING THIS, because the second Aziraphale can't see him, he looks at Crowley with utmost disgust. (I firmly believe that was Metatron who Crowley spoke to, about his suggestions on God's plan for the universe. Marking him a person non grata, and by default a Fallen Angel).(Also golden star to Metatron for not just getting Aziraphale out of his safe space (the bookshop), but also for getting him away from the person that could smell his bullshit speech from miles away: Crowley)

The next bit of the conversation is filled with pleasantries towards Aziraphale, saying that he is the only Angel fitted for the position.“ You are a leader, you are honest and don’t just tell people what they what to hear” And while you might think that those are good things, they are actually the qualities that Metatron HATES about Aziraphale. 

Metatron played Aziraphale expertly, making him VERY EXITED for the prospect of going back. Because If he can change how things are done in Heaven, that means that Heaven was not the problem but the people running it (and by default, making him a good Angel by lying just to save Job’s children). He could even make space for someone like Crowley, who is neither good nor bad. In other words, Aziraphale intends to PAINT HEAVEN IN DIFFERENT SHADES OF GREY, so he and Crowley could be TOGETHER on the “right side”.  

That’s why you can see how pained Aziraphale looked after Crowley left the bookshop and almost backtracked his decision. He didn't because his desire to fix things and create a just and truly good system is greater than Crowley's temptation.

(Aziraphale is saying: The system is unfair and I can change it. FOR YOU, FOR US. Whereas Crowley: The system works as intended. This is not a Bug, but a Feature. We should stay out of it, in OUR SIDE, TOGETHER).

But why would Metatron, a supreme celestial being care about any of this? Because he FEARS THEM.

It was very early established that Demons and Angels are enemies and should not, under any circumstance dwell or interact with each other, because they are hereditary enemies. But what if that's not the real reason? What if Angels and Demons should not work together because they would become extremely powerful? 

Through the ages, Crowley has been making miracles for Aziraphale and vice versa, but the first time that they perform a miracle TOGETHER, the Lazarus scale went bananas, saying that that magnitude of power could only be compared to a supreme archangel. And all that happened while they were trying to perform the tiniest of miracles. Imagine what they can achieve by truly joining forces.

TOGETHER as HEAVEN AND HELL, they have the power to tip the balance and frustrate what Metatron think is the ineffable plan. 

So, with the second coming afoot, it’s only logical to eliminate that threat. Whether by transforming Crowley into an angel and getting reed off his Hell powers, or by removing Aziraphale from earth and by default, Crowley.

Metatron made a gamble and he thought he won, but he lost.

If we know anything about these characters it's that they could always rely on each other “I can always rely on you and you could always rely on me” The love and care that they share for each other it’s a crack on Metatron’s manipulations, that  will grow and shatter his plan. (At first, Aziraphale will truly believe that he is making a difference and that he can change Heaven like Metatron implied, but soon he will learn the truth: Heaven and Hell won't change unless forced to). 

These two ARE THE INEFFABLE PLAN that God designed: 

Bringing BALANCE INTO THE UNIVERSE by destroying Heaven and Hell, not their residents, but the institutions themselves. No more Heaven, no more Hell, just celestial beings going as far as they can with what they think is right. 

[amostimprobabledream]

Bleach Characters Who Are Into Choking

Loosen your grip before I choke~ (Warning for some mild dubcon in the last one.)

Yumichika Ayasegawa

This may be surprising, but Yumichika finds something terribly aesthetic about choking. The eroticism of it, the glassy sheen in your eyes, the way his delicate hands look wrapped around your neck…

Unlike other examples on this list, there's no danger of passing out or Yumichika getting overexcited and forgetting his own strength. He's a passionate lover but he doesn't like to cause too much pain or discomfort, even if you're enthusiastically egging him on - a little neck squeezing is mostly all you're going to get.

He likes being choked too, he makes sure to do it prettily, throwing his head back to present the graceful arch of his throat to you, gasping thetrically and making a show of himself. Plus if you bruise him up, it gives him an excellent excuse to wear one of his many cute scarves! <3

Grimmjow Jeagerjaquez

This shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone - Grimmjow is rough, aggressive and dominant and that's only refocused and enchanced in the bedroom. He doesn't think kinks are something that needs to be hidden or danced around - if he feels like squeezing that pretty little neck, he'll do it. It's actually one of his go-to moves he likes to do, so you can expect choking to be a regular occurrence unless you make it crystal clear to him it's off the table.

He fucking loves it, loves the fluttering of your pulse against his fingers, the little gasps, the way your body writhes helplessly beneath him…

It sends his predator instincts into overdrive. He normally has excellent control over his strength but he really has to remind himself not to put too much pressure on your delicate little windpipe. He likes to tease you with it too - like a cat will bat around a mouse and then watch it while it's stunned, he'll pin you down by the neck and tighten and loosen his grip over and over, watching you splutter for air whenever he gives you a reprieve.

Cirucci Sanderwicci

Just look at her, you know this girl is into BDSM and kinks that fall under that umbrella. She differs a little in how she likes to choke you though - she puts that whip of her to good use. Especially if you're bigger than her, she doesn't want to worry about her smaller hands not being up to the job. Also she likely just got her nails done!

She's got very good command of her whip and using it like a leash just feeds into her ego. Seeing any marks on your throat afterwards gives her an extra arousal boost and you might notice her fidgeting in place as she observes you.

Though she's got a sadistic streak a mile wide, Cirucci is also up for being dominated. She won't ask that you choke her, but if you surprise her with it then she'll gasp and arch her back. It's a little difficult for her to let her guard down and be submissive but once she does it's quite a rush. She looks good with a hand around her neck too, her lips parted as she struggles for breath. Don't go easy on her or she'll get offended you think she can't take it.

Gin Ichimaru

Of course this bastard-coated bastard likes to choke you out. Those long fingers of his practically beg to grip your neck - they fit so naturally well you'd think he was created with that very intention in mind. He likes to take his time with it too, slowly increasing the pressure over time until you've got black spots dancing in your vision.

He likes to bring you just to the edge of unconsciousness before he equally slowly relinquishes his grip, likes watching the lucidity return to your eyes like you're waking up from a dream. His favourite move is choking you just as you're about to come, watching you gasp in his hold as your orgasm crashes into you as you adjust to the lack of oxygen. When he first did it you thought you were going to implode.

Don't bother trying to cover up the marks on your neck either - Gin takes pride in the proof of the act. If you're wearing a scarf he'll kiss your neck and tug it off while you're distracted, or lick away concealer. He's such a shit.

Kenpachi Zaraki

Kenpachi's whole hand can wrap around the entirety of your neck, it's inevitable that he can't resist giving a little squeeze. He prefers to do it in little sharp bursts - prolonged choking can get a little boring, since holding you still with just his hand is child's play. Instead he'll simply press down without telling you when, and for a brief second it's like all the air has vanished, before it's abruptly back again. He especially likes to do this when you're riding him.

He knows how strong he is, though, so he's slightly more inclined to be careful. Snapping your neck mid-fuck would be a bit of a buzzkill. He'll massage your throat afterwards with his long, powerful fingers.

If you want to choke him, he'll laugh at you and tell you to go ahead! You have to wrap two hands around his throat and act like you're throttling him to get your money back for him to feel much of anything. He loves it, the look of concentration on your face, the feel of your nails digging into his skin. He'll egg you on, too. "Yeah? You wanna choke me out? That the best you got, baby?"

Nnoitra Gilga

You are a brave, possibly stupid, soul if you want the praying mantis to choke you. Nnoitra's hands are just as spindly as the rest of him, but he's got some freakish strength that belies his frame. He will slam you against the wall and crush your windpipe until you black out.

Another one who does it instinctively and he'll laugh at you if you beg him to stop or slow down. He doesn't really do gentle, so he doesn't know why you think this would be any different. He especially likes fucking you while you're semi or outright unconscious - you waking up to his cock rutting in and out of you gives him a thrill, like even oblivion won't spare you from his lust.

Likes to trace his fingerprints on your neck and smirks at your bloodshot eyes. Choking him back is very difficult to do with his hierro, but you could still repay the favour by trying to smother him while he's sleeping. He'll make you pay, but it will be worth it. Hollow Ichigo

Now, Ichigo doesn't really go in for choking. He prefers to be sweet to you during the nasty, even if he will get rougher as he gets more excited, so he'd be very hesitant to choke you.

But THIS motherfucker right here? He LOVES it. Lives for it. He could get himself off solely by pinning you down by the throat and watching your hands scrabbling at him, eyes widening and your feet kicking. He loves it. Loves making you so helpless and cute beneath your king~

He likes to press the pad of his thumb against a certain dip in your throat, leaving a little circular bruise right in the centre where it's hard to cover up. He loves the thought of you washing your face and catching a glimpse of it in the mirror, knowing it's a seal, a promise of a repeat performance.

[forensicheart]

Brother's Teammate

Fernando Alonso x Stroll!Reader

Summary: Lance's sister decides to watch him at his home race, but she finds herself not being able to take her eyes off his teammate instead

Warning/s: Age gap (Reader- 24, Fernando- 42)

A/N: after very close poll results here is the winning fic! I'm considering doing a part two for this one so let me know what you think! <3 (also someone teach me how to use the scheduled posts cause I swear I did it for this but apparently not 😭 many more docs coming very soon!!!)

You had been to quite a few of your brother's races before but once college got busy you couldn't support him as much as you use to. But now you had graduated and eager to get back to watching the track action from your brother's team garage and not your couch.

The first race you were able to attend was also coincidentally Lance's home race. The Canadian Grand Prix. Of course you were beyond excited to watch him race, the days feeling like they dragged on as you counted down wishing for the weekend to come along quicker. Once it did you were getting up extra early to make sure you were ready in time to spend as much time with your brother as possible.

Walking into the paddock you felt a sense of nervousness wash over you. You hadn't been to a race in forever and navigating your way around the place had been easily forgotten now that you were so use to just turning on the tv. Sporting your Aston Martin cap you searched for the matching garage but couldn't seem to spot the green anywhere.

"Excuse me, do you need some help?" You jumped slightly by the sudden voice, stopping to turn around to face the culprit.

"You look quite lost is all" They continued and this time you took note of the accent, Spanish. He was an older looking man, but certainly good for his age. Fernando Alonso, it clicked in your head, your brothers teammate. You blinked as you tried to gather your scrambled thoughts and shot the man a shy smile.

"I wouldn't want to be too much trouble, it seems to be much different from when I was last here" You chuckled awkwardly feeling a tad embarrassed under the now identified man's gaze. But he simply shot you a charming smile and waved his hand, discarding your worries.

"Nonsense, no trouble at all, by the attire it seems we're headed in the same direction anyway" He smirked giving you a once over. Along with the cap a forest green dress adorned your body with full intent to show your pride for Lance's team.

"It seems so" You let out another small, almost awkward, laugh which just made Fernando's smirk widen before he gestured for you to follow.

"Come along then, I'll lead the way" The two of you walked casual pace, as if Fernando didn't need to be preparing for the quickly approaching race. You took in the surroundings as you walked, taking note of particular marks you passed on the way in hopes you would remember for next time. You were lost in your thoughts until you heard Fernando clear his throat making your head snap towards him to see that you were now standing in front of the Aston Martin garage.

"Here we are" He spoke with a gesture towards the garage in which you responded with a smile.

"Thank you, I honestly don't think I ever would've gotten here otherwise" Fernando laughed at your words, sounding like music to your ears as you noticed the way his eyes lit up as he smiled.

"It was my pleasure" He paused for a moment before speaking again. "I don't believe I ever introduced myself, Fernando Alonso, and you are?" He raised a brow sticking out a hand politely to which you took gently in your own.

"I'm-"

"Y/N!" A loud voice interrupted the you, your hand torn out of Fernando's as a body crashed into yours, arms wrapping tightly around you. The breath felt like it had been sucked out of you as the body went you stumbling back a few steps but the familiar hold made you beam with joy as you returned the hug. Pulling away from the hug you find your brother smiling down at you.

"I was starting to think you weren't going to show up" You scoffed at his words playfully rolling your eyes.

"Your home race? I would never miss this opportunity" You smiled brightly at him.

"Well let's give you the grand tour then shall we?" Lance smirked throwing an arm around your shoulder and you nodded with a laugh.

Fernando was forgotten about as the two siblings wondered into the garage with excitement leaving him to get more of a look at what seemed to be his teammates friend? Maybe girlfriend. As Fernando looked her up and down as she walked away though he prayed she wasn't Lance's girlfriend because god she was gorgeous. And her voice, he could listen to her speak til the end of time.

Inside the garage Lance has given you a tour of everything possible, explaining each wonder of yours to the best of his ability. You watched the buzzing garage in awe, listening to your brother's words as you took in everything as if you had never seen it before. It all seemed so different from the last time you had been at any of the races though and you were more than happy to relearn all that your brother loved about his job. You couldn't help but let your eyes drift to the opposite side of the garage though were a certain Spaniard moved purposely in order to ready himself for the upcoming race. Your cheeks flushed a light red as you eyed the way his fireproofs clung to his body. How his dark locks looked so tempting to run your hands through. You were snapped out of your thoughts as Fernando's eyes met yours from across the garage and the smirk that lit his face made your face turn many shades darker. He rose an eyebrow at you in question and you looked away shyly knowing you'd been caught staring at the man. As soon as you turned your attention back to Lance though you felt a presence behind you, one that made you turn around to face as your brother greeted them.

"Ah Fernando! I don't think I introduced you to Y/n before" Lance spoke causing Fernando to shake his head as he confirmed that he had not been introduced.

"This is Y/n, my younger sister" The same smirk you had seen moments before made its way onto Fernando's face once more as he took in the new information of your relationship with his teammate. The smirk quickly transformed into a polite smile though as he avoided raising questions from said teammate.

"A pleasure to meet you" Fernando hummed locking eyes with you, the look he gave made you shiver slightly as you saw the curiosity and desire within his eyes.

"Likewise" You were aware that the feelings hidden in his eyes were also mirrored in yours. This revelation caused Fernando's smirk to form once again. Before Fernando is able to open his mouth again though his name is called from further in the garage.

"Duty calls it seems but I hope to see you around" Fernando finishes with a wink your way as he wonders off. You can't fight the blush that rises as your eyes trail after his body before a gasp sounds from next to you.

"Absolutely not" Lance exclaims sternly as he steps into your eyeline.

"Oh come on, you're no fun" You huff crossing your arms as you roll your eyes at your brother.

"He's my teammate and practically double your age!" Lance makes a point but you simply shrug.

"Sometimes you gotta live a little"

"You're ridiculous" Lance snorts before swinging an arm over your shoulder.

"Come on, let me show you where you'll be watching the race from"

Your brother may have expected you to watch him during the race, and you did for parts of it, but you couldn't stop your gaze from drifting to his teammates car too. The way he drove appeared effortless, overtaking without struggle and quickly placing himself near the front of the pact.

While neither Aston Martin had landed on the podium they found themselves with the front runners causing the garage to erupt in cheers. A 4-5 finish was pretty damn impressive and for a moment you didn't think your smile could get any wider. The cameras panned to Fernando taking off his helmet, his fingers running through his hair as he removed his balaclava and you found yourself staring in awe at the image. He flashed a charming smile as he spotted the camera and it felt as if it was directed to only you. If this is what the races were like then maybe you wouldn't mind coming a bit more often.

[the-sweet-madame]

ᴇɴᴛɪᴄɪɴɢʟʏ ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ (Siren!Kazuha x Reader)

Warnings: Some bleeding, reader got attacked beforehand, mentions of death. That's all I think, if there's more, please do tell <3.

Female reader! Happy reading <3

It was pitch black, the night sky staring down at you in amusement as you moved through the trees with caution. Blood running down your sleeve with burn marks littering your skin. The adrenaline pumping through your veins as the memories of your village being invaded and burnt to the ground. Masked men chasing after you, they managed to throw a knife at your arm. Cutting it deep enough to bleed a little.

You huffed, pushing your hair back. The moonlight spilling across the land delicately as a lake came into view. The moon had reflected onto the rippling water as you moved closer. At least you could cleanse yourself from the blood.

You sauntered near the edge of the water, the moonlight far too dim for you to see the glowing eyes watching your every move.

"A human wondering so late at night?" A soft and alluring voice spoke. It was different, it was masculine yet definitely not human.

You flinched backwards, taking several steps back as the creature swam sedately closer. Its fins peeked through the water, a face coming into sight. It was as if his hair was created out of moonlight, gorgeous silvery strands framing his face with a bright stripe of crimson straight down the side. Perhaps the red was a warning to get away. His eyes were the colour of blood, like his fins although they were more faded. His tail was a snowy white, his scales glimmering under the sweet moonlight. Skin as fair as porcelain. He tilted his head as he rested him arms on the land surrounding the body of water, his tail swaying behind him.

He was a ghostly white rose, blooming in a thriving garden of crimson roses. Standing out, the moonshine acting as his spotlight, making his petals shimmer. He was breathtaking.

And he knew it.

Something so ethereal about him. Something so desirable. He saw the way your eyes hungrily took in his appearance, and he chuckled. His laughter like the sweet chiming of ribboned bells. He just seemed so bewitching and so cordial...It was as if your brain rewired, too flooded to think of anything rational as you strongly felt the urge to just come closer.

"One would be a fool to not give in,

Whoever said love was a sin?

If I am what you desire, my dear.

Why don't you come near?"

He hummed lowly yet so melodiously, something so entrancing about his voice.

You listened, or more like your body followed what he ordered. In that moment, you couldn't care less about anything until you came near enough to see his fangs, glinting in the moonlight as he grinned. Only around 7 steps away from the glistening body of water.

Your brain finally snapped out of its mindless trance.

A siren.

You softly gasped, stumbling backwards. The dangerous fairytale creatures with a voice so pretty yet deadly. No wonder you found yourself wanted to linger closer to him, his beauty hypnotising and his voice luring. He must have enchanted you as soon as he spotted you.

"It would be a shame to leave without a taste." His voice lilted with flirtatiousness and heavy enchantment. He tilted his head as he asked with a mischievous grin. "Isn't that what you desire?"

Soft tunes emitting from him, and you felt the need to comply, to hear his voice even closer. His voice became louder, and you took a step forward, locking eyes with his. The clear murderous intent in them told you to run but his voice was just so soothing and his face so mystically pretty. It felt like your mind was spiked with poisonous sweetness as you took another step forward.

Then another.

And another until you were only a step away from the lake. It purled menacingly at your arrival.

He hummed. "Quite the strong one, you are. I have never witnessed a human snap out of my enchantment."

You tilted your head, your mind foggy as you heard him speak. His siren song was deafening, and you only groaned in response. Your eyes fell shut as you felt like you were floating, only to be met with the cold water encasing your body whole. You let out a scream, only for it to be devoured by the merciless water as you flailed. Your brain had begun to shut down quicker, flooding with honeyed enchantments.

Black dots began to dance in your blurry vision, teasing you as you began to close your eyes. The sardonic taste of death sent your mind into spirals. A pair of arms wrapped around your body, bringing it closer to theirs as it brought you to the surface. You coughed out the water, wheezing as you clutched the person's body with all of your strength.

"I had forgotten how fragile humans were." The person holding you speaks and it's none other than the siren himself. "Perhaps my siren song was too strong."

You look at him blearily as he speaks to you, or more like himself. He looks down at you in his arms. He hasn't meant to flood your brain as much as he did, to make you fall into the water. But he didn't have any intentions of letting you live either. This situation intrigued him, his pure instinct kicking in to stop you from drowning. He was going to drown you anyway but now he has you in his arms, blinking up at him.

He took in your appearance, how the strands of your hair complimented your face so prettily even when drenched and how your eyes fluttered at him so adorably yet so blankly. Like you were still recovering from his voice charming your mind.

He usually never felt attracted to any of his prey, his desire to feast upon human flesh was always so elevated. Yet you were somewhat pretty for a human, a little adorable too.

Alarmed at the sight of your potential killer, you squirmed in his grasp. He only smiled down at you, humming a low tune and you fell into an enchanted trance yet again. Though it wasn't as powerful and mind fogging, it only played some tricks on your mind to cease your movement.

"Ah, I have never quite met such a feisty human like yourself." He spoke softly, though this time his voice was devoid of any enchantment. "Nor have I met another as entrancing as you are."

You flushed at his flustering words; unsureness clear in your eyes as you look at him.

"Are you not supposed to...lure me and kill me?" You ask, rather bluntly as you cleared your throat.

Even if he seemed taken aback, he didn't show it and only smiled sweetly at you. You couldn't deny how sublime he looked up closely.

"I could but that would not be as pleasurable. It would be a waste of such a pretty face." He said before adding. " Although I am sure your blood is nothing short of divine."

You look at him, incredulously as you hold your tongue to not say anything stupid.

He chuckled, bringing his hand to stroke your hair. It was strange, the feeling of the powerful creature treating you so carefully after nearly ending your life. "You intrigue me, human. Why don't we make a fair deal? I will spare your little life in exchange for your company."

You look at him, not convinced. "How...do you not know I won't escape?"

The corners of his lips tugged into a small smirk at your question. Hints of wickedness seeping though. "What makes you think I will not hunt you down, dove? I have feasted on your kind for years and none of them have ever escaped from my grasp. I have my ways."

Your lips parted slightly, taking in a slow breath. "So, you are willingly letting me live for my company?"

Your fingers twitched as you regained sense in your limbs, but you didn't dare move.

"It does get quite lonely." He says, light sorrow tainting his voice as he drags a long, sharp nail down the side of your face. A little more pressure is all it takes to draw blood. You shiver at the feeling.

"Do we have a deal, dove?" He asks, his expression quickly altering as he looks down at you with a grin, his fangs almost daring you to say no.

You slowly nod and he chuckles, knowing that you'd agree anyway. "Allow me to seal our deal."

"Okay." You say rather softly, unsure of how he was going to.

He smiled enticingly, keeping you in suspense as he tilted your chin upwards. He captured your lips in a kiss, his other hand beneath your back to keep you afloat. It was brief, unexpected yet enchanting. Everything about him was just so glamorous.

You slid an arm around his shoulder, hand caressing his neck. He smiles into the kiss at the feeling. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, and you followed only for his fangs to lightly prick your tongue. He pulled away as you lightly hissed at the sudden pain. Thankfully, it didn't last long.

He licks his fangs, as if he were savouring the sapid taste of your blood. He lets go of your chin to tuck a few strands of hair behind your ear as he whispers lowly, charmingly even.

"Our bond is sealed." 

[one-flower-one-sword]

Sending virtual hugs! 🌸

I’m wondering about your thoughts on Xie Lian and how he views Hua Cheng and the Gambling Den.

He expressed to Hua Cheng his concerns about how dangerous it is, and let it go when he understood that he and Hua Cheng have differing views on the matter.

It makes me wonder how things would have unfolded if the man who gambled to have his competitors die or give his daughter’s life and marriage if he lost, had been able to complete his bet without interruption. Like how much is Hua Cheng involved in something like that?

Would that man simply have walked away with the luck he needed to get what he wanted? I can’t see Hua Cheng actively hunting down and killing those people.

But I can see him allowing the man the luck needed to make his desires come true - so not actively engaging but not interfering with the man’s terrible decisions - kind of like with how he dealt with He Xuan.

I’m not completely sold on that thought though…😅 your thoughts?

Thank you! 🌸

And thank you for your ask! I love talking about Ghost City :3

I've thought about similar things regarding the Gambler's Den, but ultimately, I think it's on purpose that we don't find out for sure and are left to wonder. Especially since, at this point in the story, both the reader and Xie Lian are still slowly uncovering who Hua Cheng is as a person.

When we look at this scene after everything is revealed, I think it's quite clear from the mockingly derisive way he talks to him that Hua Cheng did not like that guy, and I wonder if he would even have taken that second bet if Xie Lian and the others hadn't been there - he seems to have a pretty good understanding of Lang Qianqiu's character when be talks about him with Xie Lian later, so I can see him use that second bet as a lure to make Lang Qianqiu cause a commotion. Because then Hua Cheng gets to "discover" that Xie Lian and the others are there, which means he has a reason to invite Xie Lian to Paradise Manor, which is necessary to make that whole "have them rescue 'Ming Yi' so that He Xuan's cover isn't blown" plan work.

As an aside, though of course Hua Cheng is always happy when he gets to spend time with Xie Lian, I think he must have deeply hated deceiving him like this. It speaks to how much he values his arrangement with He Xuan and how vital the information He Xuan provides is to him - which is proven when right after this, the whole Fang Xin reveal happens. Without He Xuan monitoring what's happening in heaven and relaying the information to him, Hua Cheng wouldn't have known that Xie Lian got locked inside his palace and couldn't have come to rescue him.

Back to the topic at hand though. I think it's worth looking at the actual dialog when Xie Lian and Hua Cheng discuss the den because there's so much in there:

After some hesitation, Xie Lian spoke up again. "San Lang, it may be out of line for me, but I still have to say it. That Gambler's Den of yours is incredibly dangerous. Won't it blow up in your face one day?"

A place that allowed the betting of sons and daughters and people's lives, granting wishes for others' sudden deaths - it was dreadfully sinful. Never mind a little brawl; if one day the bets got out of hand, the Heavenly Realm wouldn't be able to stay on the sidelines.

Hua Cheng gave him a look.

"Your Highness, did you ask Lang Qianqiu why he had to jump into that mess?"

Xie Lian was slightly taken aback, not quite understanding the intent of the question.

Hua Cheng continued, "I bet he must have told you that if he didn't do it, no one else would."

He was amazingly on the mark, obviously having seen through Lang Qianqiu.

"That's indeed what he said." Xie Lian admitted.

"Then I'm the complete opposite," Hua Cheng said. "If I don't control a place like this, then someone else will. I'd rather that person be me."

Xie Lian knew when to back down, and he nodded. "I understand."

It seemed, although Hua Cheng was the sentimental sort, he also cared more about control and power than Xie Lian realized.

It's fascinating that it we look at what Xie Lian actually says and thinks here, what he mainly seems to be worried about is what would happen to Hua Cheng and his friendship with Hua Cheng should Jun Wu be given reason to actively start going against him. Which is also what Xie Lian worries about during this entire mission - what will happen if it turns out Hua Cheng is involved with a heavenly official's disappearance and heaven retaliates, what will happen if he's not involved and Xie Lian has destroyed their friendship by deceiving him. It doesn't matter to Xie Lian that Hua Cheng is a Ghost King and that they're technically on opposite sides - he's decided based on his own experiences and judgment that Hua Cheng is a good person and a good friend, and he's already at this point very protective of him. Especially since he's not unaware that the heavenly realm in general and Jun Wu in particular do not share his opinion on Hua Cheng, and the political implications thereof:

Jun Wu turned around. "Tell me, what kind of extraordinary character did you engage with when you descended this time?"

Xie Lian raised his hand. "My Lord, I swear I did nothing. Just, one day by chance, I encountered an interesting young man on the road, and we spent some time together. I didn't think much of it."

Ju Wu nodded. "Chance encounter, young man, Supreme Ghost King. Xianle, surely you are aware what the consequences would be if Ming Guang was to question you further and you confessed to this in front of the other officials? No one would believe you."

"Xianle knows," Xie Lian replied woefully. "So, I'm grateful for My Lord's timely intervention. My Lord, you're not actually going to interrogate me, are you? I wouldn't collude with the Ghost Realm. These are absurd concerns."

"Naturally, I know you would not intentionally collude with the Ghost Realm," Jun Wu said.

"I'm grateful for My Lord's trust," Xie Lian replied.

Xie Lian is definitely stretching the truth here with the "I didn't think much of it" part, given that by the end of his investigation in Banyue, he damn well knew that the "interesting young man" was Supreme Ghost King Hua Cheng, and then he kept spending time with him regardless. He's very careful about protecting their friendship by downplaying it and being vague, and further than that, he's very careful about protecting Hua Cheng. We've already seen this earlier when Pei Ming was interrogating him - Xie Lian even pretended not to know who that "red-clothed young man" was because he rightfully deduced that Pei Ming would try to use Hua Cheng as a scapegoat to get Xiao Pei off the hook. Then when Pei Ming does try to pin the whole thing on Hua Cheng, Xie Lian immediately speaks up in his defense:

"General Pei, let's keep things clear and separate. Let's not talk about whether the young man I traveled with was Hua Cheng or not. At the very least, even if he was indeed Hua Cheng, that has nothing to do with what General Pei Junior has done. A Supreme Ghost King might have the worst possible name on people's tongues, but not everything can be blamed on him."

I find it very telling that the reason Xie Lian is being so carefully vague is less so he himself won't get into trouble and more that he's very aware that if Hua Cheng gets wrongfully accused, no one will question it simply because of who and what Hua Cheng is. And it's that kind of injustice and prejudice that Xie Lian will always stand up against. At this point he still completely trusts Jun Wu, but when it comes to Hua Cheng, Xie Lian not only disagrees but actively disobeys, though he's careful about how much of that he shows in front of Jun Wu:

Jun Wu shook his head. "I should not comment on the friends you make, but I will say this: Be careful of Hua Cheng."

Hearing this, Xie Lian bowed his head slightly, keeping his eyes down and saying nothing. He should've responded with "Yes, My Lord," as he should have been able to say yes with ease by that point. Yet, for some reason, he really didn't want to say that particular "yes".

Hua Cheng likewise also understands his and Xie Lian's respective positions and is careful not to endanger Xie Lian. Like here, when he explains why he put up somewhat of an act of not knowing Xie Lian because there were other heavenly officials present:

"Since gege is here, why not come in? We haven't been apart for that long, so don't be a stranger to San Lang."

At his beckoning, Xie Lian let down the beaded curtain. "Earlier in the Gambler's Den, it was San Lang who pretended not to recognize me."

Hua Cheng approached and stopped at Xie Lian's side. "Lang Qianqiu was there too, so if I didn't put on an act, I'd be giving gege trouble."

Or here when he's content to be accused of having maliciously kidnapped Xie Lian if that means Xie Lian won't be suspected of resisting his arrest and made to look guilty:

Xie Lian finally understood. Shi Qingxuan could see that Hua Cheng had no ill intent, but on the surface, they had to pretend that Hua Cheng had only barged into the Heavens to collect his due. It would prevent gossip from those how might suggest that Xie Lian had maliciously and intentionally absconded. Hua Cheng understood Shi Qingxuan's intent and had played along. However, Xie Lian didn't want to go this route.

"All right, stop acting. He only came to the Heavens to save me. San Lang had good intentions, so why conceal them?"

Hua Cheng does this to protect Xie Lian, but Xie Lian likewise wants to protect him. This has ended up quite long-winded, but I wanted to look for more evidence of why I think that Xie Lian mainly brought up the Gambler's Den because he's worried that the bets could end up endangering Hua Cheng himself.

Hua Cheng sincerely thanks Xie Lian for his concern, but makes it clear that he doesn’t quite agree, and I think it's worth looking into why that is.

I've seen Hua Cheng be described as completely amoral by fans, but I don't think that's how the text actually portrays him. He certainly can be quite critical and cynical with his views on both humans and gods, but his reasoning for establishing and keeping the den isn't "I don't care what happens there" or "I want places like this to exist for my own gain". He is, at least from his perspective and based on his experiences, simply being grimly realistic about how if he forbids these kinds of bets, the people who want to conduct them will simply move underground and do their gambling in secret. So not only will these bets happen either way, someone else will eventually take control of such a place, and Hua Cheng doesn't trust that such a person wouldn't take advantage of it.

Hua Cheng isn't amoral, he just has his own perspective on morality and justice. He's also not passive and uncaring in the face of what he perceives as wrong and unjust, but he doesn't really talk about that openly unless prompted. Like here during the Black Water arc, when they discuss the scroll with (supposedly) the names of victims of the Reverend of Empty Words:

Xie Lian turned to Hua Cheng. "San Lang, you said it's full of outrageous mistakes. How so?"

Hua Cheng scooted over to him, they were now sitting much closer than before. Hua Cheng pointed at a few names. "These are wrong."

Xie Lian looked at the names closely; all of them were known to be lawless, malevolently evil tyrants. "How do you know?"

"Because I killed them," Hua Cheng said.

Hua Cheng deeply hates people who abuse the power they wield, to the point that he personally acts against them. I think this ties in well with his reasoning about the Gambler's Den. I don't think there's anything in the text that suggests Xie Lian is upset to realize that Hua Cheng cares more about power and control than he'd thought, just surprised - until he comes to Ghost City, Xie Lian has mostly been around the very laid-back "San Lang", and this is the first time he's encountered Hua Cheng in his own territory, where he's a Ghost King ruling over the largest settlement within the ghost realm.

Also Xie Lian doesn't know this yet, but given everything we later learn about Hua Cheng's past, I think it's quite obvious that Hua Cheng's preoccupation with the power and control he wields, as well as his contempt for those who abuse theirs, is rooted deeply in the trauma he's gone through. Control in particular is a huge thing for him for several reasons, one of the main ones being that as a child, he was repeatedly punished for things outside his control, and he internalized that pattern to the point where he now punishes himself for things outside his control, as is shown repeatedly when he decides he's failed Xie Lian in some way. But I'm going to go into more detail about this in my Hua Cheng + trauma responses meta.

Lastly, I think it's important to keep in mind that the text makes clear that even when Xie Lian and Hua Cheng disagree, rather than a point of conflict it's actually proof of how strong and healthy their relationship is. I've sometimes seen fans (not you) portray their relationship as Xie Lian being irritated with Hua Cheng's attitude towards others, having him either be somewhat grudgingly resigned to it or actively trying to change Hua Cheng's behavior. But when we actually look at the text, we realize that nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, the opposite is the case - Xie Lian is incredibly protective of him and repeatedly gets defensive when others judge and blame Hua Cheng. I'm gonna examine that in more detail in my hualian meta though, so for now, I hope this turned out a satisfying answer!

[flowerbunnyboo]

PLEASE DOCTOR, HELP ME! | back

starring: jungkook x male reader

summary: Jungkook is a urologist, a doctor that deals with penises and prostates. Little did he expect to have one of the best sex ever with a random patient on a random day

nsfw

a/n: hi ! This is inspired by the say uncle porn videos which I absolutely love

It was a typical Wednesday morning at Dr. Jungkook's urology clinic. Patients trickled in, each with their unique set of urinary issues. Jungkook, a tall and handsome man in his early thirties, greeted them with a warm smile as he efficiently diagnosed and treated various conditions - from kidney stones to prostatitis.

Just before lunch, a new patient arrived, introducing himself as Mn. He looked to be in his late twenties, with short dark hair and piercing eyes that seemed to hold a secret. As Mn settled onto the examination table, Jungkook couldn't help but notice the way his slender fingers drummed against his thigh, betraying a hint of nervousness.

“So, tell me Mr. Mn”,Jungkook began, leaning over the chart, “What seems to be the problem?”

Mn shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the sterile white room before finally meeting Jungkook's gaze.

“Well, Doctor... I've been experiencing some discomfort down there,” he gestured vaguely towards his crotch, his voice dropping to a whisper. “It's like... my dick just feels off sometimes”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. “Off, how exactly? Painful? Tingly? Or perhaps... “. His voice trailed off suggestively as he allowed his gaze to linger on Mn's lap, where a noticeable bulge strained against the fabric of his jeans.

Mn's cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and he quickly looked away, clearing his throat. “N-no pain, really. Just... sensitivity, I guess. And sometimes it gets hard without warning”

Jungkook nodded thoughtfully, making a note on the chart making another mark beside 'Premature Ejaculation'.

He glanced up at Mn through his lashes, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Hmm, interesting. Well, let's take a closer look, shall we?”

Without waiting for a response, Jungkook reached for the stethoscope hanging from his neck and deftly unbuttoned Mn's pants.

The cool metal pressed against sensitive skin as he listened intently, his breath hot against Mn's inner thigh.

“Mmm, sounds healthy enough”, Jungkook murmured, his fingers trailing lightly along the waistband of Mn's boxers. “But I think we should rule out any potential prostate issues. Just a routine exam, don't worry”

Mn bit his lip, trying to ignore the thrill that shot through him at Jungkook's touch. ‘Prostate exam?’ Was that normal for this kind of visit? He didn't think so, but the doctor's confident demeanor put him at ease.

Jungkook carefully peeled down Mn's boxers, exposing his erect cock to the cool air of the exam room. A low whistle escaped his lips. “My, you're quite the one, aren't you?”

Mn's face burned even hotter, but he couldn't help shying under the praise.

Jungkook's hands were gentle as they wrapped around his shaft, giving it a slow squeeze. “Relax, this won't hurt a bit”, the doctor assured him, his thumb rubbing teasing circles over the sensitive head.

As Jungkook began to stroke Mn's length, the young man felt his resolve crumbling.

The pleasure was overwhelming, and Mn found himself arching into Jungkook's touch, his hips instinctively rocking to meet those skilled fingers. “Oh god, that feels...amazing”, he panted, his eyes fluttering shut.

Jungkook smiled to himself, pleased by the reaction. He picked up the pace, pumping Mn's cock with increasing urgency. “You're doing great, just relax and enjoy it”, he cooed, leaning in close to murmur against Mn's ear.

The heat of Jungkook's breath sent shivers down Mn's spine, and he could feel his balls drawing up tight, signaling his impending climax. But just as he teetered on the edge, Jungkook abruptly pulled away, leaving Mn aching and empty.

“Almost there, but not yet”

Jungkook said with a wink, his own erection straining visibly against his scrubs. “Now, let's see about that prostate of yours...”

Before Mn could protest, Jungkook had positioned himself between his thighs, one hand guiding Mn's leg up and over his hip. The other hand, slick with lube, pressed insistently against Mn's rear entrance.

“Oh!”, Mn gasped, surprised by the sudden intrusion. But instead of pain, a wave of intense pleasure washed over him as Jungkook's finger breached his tight hole.

“That's it, just relax”, Jungkook soothed, slowly working his finger deeper. “You're doing fantastic”

Mn moaned, his head falling back as he surrendered to the sensation. Jungkook's finger curled inside him, stroking that magical spot that made stars explode behind his eyelids.

”Doctor”, Mn whimpered, his voice trembling with need, “please... I need..”

He didn't even know what he needed anymore, only that the ache within him demanded to be filled.

Jungkook must have understood, because suddenly he was removing his finger and replacing it with the thick head of his own cock.

Mn cried out as he felt that first delicious stretch, his body welcoming the invasion. Jungkook pushed in inch by glorious inch until he was buried to the tip, filling Mn completely.

For a moment, they simply stayed like that, caught in the haze of pleasure. Then Jungkook began to move, withdrawing until just the tip remained inside Mn before plunging back in with a deep, satisfying thrust.

“Yes, oh god yes”, Mn chanted, his hands fisting in the sheets as he met each powerful stroke.

The room echoed with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, punctuated by their ragged breathing and muffled groans. Jungkook set a relentless pace, driving into Mn with precision and passion, his hips snapping forward with each thrust.

Mn's world narrowed to the feeling of being so thoroughly claimed, so utterly owned by this handsome doctor. He'd never experienced anything like it, and the intensity threatened to consume him whole.

“Harder, please”, Mn begged, his voice hoarse with desire. “Fuck me harder!”

Jungkook obliged, picking up speed until the exam table shook beneath them. He leaned down to capture Mn's mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to tangle with Mn's.

The added stimulation sent Mn careening over the edge.

With a strangled cry, Mn came undone, his orgasm crashing over him like a wave. His cock jerked, painting the sheets below with streaks of cum as wave after wave of bliss pulsed through him.

Through it all, Jungkook continued to pound into him, chasing his own release. “Fuck, you feel incredible”, he growled against Mn's lips, his thrusts growing erratic as he neared the edge.

With a final, brutal plunge, Jungkook buried himself to the insides and still Mn could feel every throbbing inch as he erupted inside him. The warmth of his seed flooding Mn's insides triggered another aftershock, leaving them both shaking and spent.

As the aftermath settled, Jungkook collapsed onto Mn, his weight a comforting pressure against him.

They lay there for a long moment, catching their breath and savoring the intimate silence. Finally, Jungkook lifted his head to gaze at Mn with a soft, satisfied smile.

“Well, that was certainly an unconventional examination”, he teased, brushing a strand of sweat-dampened hair from Mn's forehead. “But I think we can safely say your physical is complete”

Mn chuckled weakly, still reeling from the intensity of their encounter. “I suppose that's one way to ensure a thorough check-up”, he agreed, his voice tinged with amusement and something warmer.

Jungkook's expression turned tender as he cupped Mn's cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of his jaw. “And I have to say, I'm rather glad our paths crossed today”, he murmured, his eyes searching Mn's face.

Mn's heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in Jungkook's words, and the gentle affection in his touch. He found himself wanting to lean into it, to bask in the afterglow of their passionate encounter and explore these new feelings blossoming between them.

“I am too”, Mn admitted softly, his hand coming up to cover Jungkook's where it rested on his cheek. “This was more than just a physical exam, wasn't it?”

Jungkook nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Definitely. And I think we both know this isn't the last time we'll be seeing each other”

Mn's pulse quickened at the implication, a thrill of excitement mixed with a dash of nervousness.

“So, what do you say?”, Jungkook asked, his voice low and inviting as he rolled off Mn and sat beside him on the exam table. “Want to grab some dinner together? Maybe get to know each other a little better outside of the doctor patient relation?”

Mn considered the offer, his mind already racing with possibilities. A date with Jungkook sounded incredibly appealing, but he also knew he should probably slow down and not rush into things.

Still, the memory of their intense coupling lingered, making it difficult to think clearly. “I'd like that, he finally replied, deciding to take a chance on this unexpected connection.

Jungkook's face lit up with a radiant smile, and he reached out to squeeze Mn's shoulder. “Great! I know a really nice Italian place not far from here. How about we meet there at 7 pm?”

Mn nodded, already looking forward to their evening plans. As he started to gather his clothes, Jungkook helped him tidy up the mess they'd made, their fingers occasionally brushing in a way that sent pleasant shivers down Mn's spine.

Once everything was in order, Jungkook walked Mn to the door, his arm casually slung around the smaller man's shoulders. “I'll see you tonight, then”, he said, pressing a lingering kiss to Mn's temple.

Mn felt his cheeks heat at the gesture, but he smiled contentedly, already anticipating the warm glow of their budding relationship. “Looking forward to it,” he replied, stepping out into the hallway and waving goodbye as Jungkook closed the door behind him.

©️ flowerbunnyboo 2024. all rights reserved to me. please don't copy my work or reshare without my permission and credit

[thevoidscreams]

In honor of Mating Press March, I give you this Female reader. You are Ferrus Manus's sweet little wife and the two of you are finally getting around to making the Emperor some grandchildren. Ferrus is quite eager to start a family with you and has you in a mating press. Because it's called a mating press.

Day twelve

Ferrus time. Time to get that Manus ween.

Pairing: Ferrus Manus x reader

Warnings: Breeding, more cum than you can shake a stick at and at least a gallon of lube to fit that what this man calls his cock. The jury is still out on that though. Sorry again for this being late.

You walked confidently with the little sheet of paper in your hand towards Ferrus's workshop. A broad smile painted across your face.

The Iron hands at the door stepped aside to allow you to enter. They knew better from personal experience than to block the Iron hand's wife from him.

"Ferrus!" You called, and he turned to face you. A soft smile pulling at the edge of his mouth. "What did the results say?"

"Now is the time. I'm at peak fertility for the next three days."

Your husband stood, nodding. "I see. Well then, we'd better make the most of our time."

"I agree."

You reached out a hand to him, he took it and raised the back of it to his lips before he stood. You just barely came to his lowest rib, and it amused him every time. To see you pressed against him, so small yet so determined. Ferrus took the page and set it on his work bench.

"My father's been inquiring as to our intentions on children. Before I had no answer to give him. But I believe the next time we see him, I will have news to share with him." Ferrus told you and held your hand in his as he led to you away from his work bench and towards the door.

"I hope we do. I wonder how he would be as a grandfather." You imagined him holding your future children on his lap and telling them wild tales from the crusade and before.

His face was calm, but his hands clenched and unclenched excitedly. He was looking forward to having a child with his wife. But also the making of the child as well.

Sex had been a bit of a struggle, given how big he was and how thick his manhood was. A lot of patience and lubricant had been required. It was easier now, but still, it took some time to get him fully in you without causing harm.

Stepping past the threshold of the room Ferrus lifted you up. His lips seeking yours as he carried you to the bed. Hands pulling at clothes till you were bared to his eyes and hands. His mouth explored the dips and curves of your body, leaving a trail of marks wherever his mouth went. "My beautiful wife. You will be the best mother. I am confident about this and there is no one but you that I would rather have than you." He cooed softly. "Do you really think so?" You asked, your voice a soft tremble. "I do. I would not have said so if I did not." Your hands pulled at his body glove and he chuckled. "You must work on your patience." "I don't want to. I want you to put a child in me, Ferrus." The Iron hand smiled at your eagerness as it so closey matched his own.

He stripped himself. You took in the sight greedily.

Ferrus brought a jug out from the closet, it was filled with a clear thick fluid and you shivered with need.

The primarch settles on the edge of the bed. Your legs spread to allow him access. He poured a bit of the clear fluid onto his metallic fingers. "Are you ready?" He asked and you nodded. "Quite, it's been too long."

Ferrus snorted. "We had sex last night." You gave him a coy look. "Which is entirely too long if you ask me, my darling husband."

He shook his head and slipped one lubricated finger into your entrance, he often wished he could feel with his hands how warm you were. However his cock would simply have to do.

You moaned as he curled his fingers and spread the lubricant as much as he could. His fingers were thick and hard, having slept together so recently it was easy to take.

He poured another portion onto his fingers and returned them till his finger glided smoothly. He stopped once satisfied.

He raised the jug to his cock and poured a line down his length, rubbing it to coat the whole length. You watched the movement with great interest. Your legs opened wider as he lined himself up. Slowly almost agonizingly so, he pushed in. His hands gripping your thighs and pushing them up to allow him to reach deeper. He continued to push in, the stretch getting more severe as he did. The deep groan Ferrus let out as he bottomed out shook the bed. You loved his sounds of satisfaction. The ones that you know he was really into. You both rested for a minute, Ferrus massaging your thighs with a look of absolute love and adoration in his eyes. "Shall I begin now my love?" "I'm ready when you are." You smiled up at him. Ferrus pulled out just a few inches before sliding back in. Drawing a moan from you both. He repeated, pulling out just an inch more, than another till he was pulling out almost all the way. But his pace remained steady as he made love gently to you. 

Ferrus was not one to rush his acts of love for you. And that included sex. It was an act that meant more to him than just finding pleasure. It was one of many ways he strengthened your bond. It also mattered to him that you were safe and comfortable when he took you. It was just another thing you loved about him. His pace picked up, his thrust still even, but harder. He had the steady beat only a metronome could match. The thought brought a smile to your lips. Imagining a little tick each time he thrust back in. Your hands brushed over his chest. Indulging in the warmth and stability it provided. "I love you Ferrus." You mumbled. "I love you too." He panted leaning down to nuzzle the top of your head. One wide fingertip found your clit, rubbing circles into the tender nub. Your sweet cries of pleasure were his reward, as was the way your pussy choked his cock. “You’re so beautiful my love. Taking me as we build our family together.”

Your body lit up at the praise and you tingled all over. Sure he was more affectionate with you, but to be spoken to approvingly like that by him was like being patted on the soul. “And you are so very handsome helping me to make that family a reality.” It wasn’t much longer till he had you reaching the peak of your climax. Ferrus followed on the heels of it, stilling deep inside you as he could. Pouring a flood of cum into your womb, so much it overflowed and trickled down your thighs. Ferrus stayed in you a minute longer, allowing most of his seed to remain in you. Your pelvis looked fuller with the sheer volume. There was an audible and wet sound as he pulled out. His cum followed until he pushed a finger into you to stop it. “A shame, such a waste.” He grumbled. “I guess you’ll have to keep replacing it.” You flirted. “That I will.” Ferrus replied, his cock still hard and twitching. It was going to be a long night.

[talesofesther]

sweet calamity | ch 4

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Series Summary: It was something people described as the sweetest pain, the feeling of when the soul that's destined to find yours is closer to you. Wednesday saw it as a curse, promised herself she would hate whoever was chosen for her; but it's easier said than done.

A/N: Prepare your heart for this one. I was listening to this while writing. <3

Masterlist | Read ch 3 here

There was no sunlight this morning, Nevermore's grounds were grey, as were the clouds covering the sky. Without the sun, the wind moving between the trees became considerably colder.

Wednesday walked the stone path in the gardens, her steps well placed to avoid the bits of grass peeking in between that were still covered by the morning frost.

It was too early, a soft white fog was still hanging in the air and not many students were out and about at this hour, especially outside in the cold; but she had a feeling that the person she was after would be here.

One could say Wednesday blended in well with the gloomy weather; with her pale skin doing little in helping to hide the dark bags under her eyes, courtesy of spending last night worrying — no, worrying implies that she cares and she most certainly doesn't — thinking, about the what ifs that surrounded you and her.

It eventually became as clear as day even if Wednesday couldn't connect a few points. She still hasn't decided how to feel about it or what to say to you when she finds you.

We are a mistake; I don't want you, you shouldn't want me.

Those were the words that have been swimming inside her head all night, so much that she almost made it all Enid's problem too. They were true, weren't they? She would mean it if they were to roll off her tongue.

Yet, as Wednesday walked briskly, feeling the cold biting at her cheeks, she wondered why they brought an uncomfortable weight to her chest.

She found you under what once was a dense tree, your shoulder was leaning against its trunk; there was a boy next to you, tall and lanky and doing a poor job of being subtle with the way he leaned closer to you. Wednesday's face scrunched slightly, as if she tasted something sour; she needed your attention much more urgently than he did, surely you'd ditch him as soon as she makes her presence known right?

You were engrossed in meaningless conversation when Wednesday reached you, so much so that she had to tap your shoulder; causing you to turn toward her mid-sentence, your lips hanging half open.

The raven-haired girl did nothing but raise a brow, and after a beat of looking into her eyes, you turned your back to her again. Such a bold move of yours.

"Um, so Andrew," you clasped your hands together, smiling at him, "I'll meet up with you later, okay?"

"Sure thing," the boy raised a hand to your shoulder, squeezing softly, "see you then."

His gaze met with Wednesday's as he walked past her, and truthfully, he should be grateful that her eyes don't have the power to kill.

"Good morning, Addams." Your voice urged her dark orbs back to you, who was grinning, watching her intently. "You're quite early today," you told her then.

Wednesday breathed out through her nose, focusing on you with a blink; "you and I need to-" but her words faded, because her mind caught up with the fact that she wasn't feeling anything.

There was nothing. The mark on her wrist that she loathes so much; it didn't burn, didn't sting, didn't even tickle.

She had grown almost used to it, learning to expect it whenever you were close. Not having it, felt like someone ripped away a part of her soul, like there was this grip slowly tightening around the organ that pumps her blood.

It was all kinds of wrong because she shouldn't miss something she doesn't need.

Wednesday felt utterly pathetic, because her body was stuck not feeling things and you were looking at her with slightly raised eyebrows, silently asking her to elaborate.

"-Get to class, we're way too far and I'm not arriving late because of you," she finally snapped, turning away from you briskly.

So it's not you after all, but she was so sure.

And there's absolutely nothing more infuriating than being wrong.

You didn't mention how the class wouldn't start for another forty minutes so neither did Wednesday, she just walked, hearing your steps trailing behind her.

Wednesday was troubled, that much you could tell right away. She had that frown on her eyebrows and lips, the same one you saw once when she'd hit a dead end on her novel.

Oh, how you wanted to be able to take her hand and tell her that it's over, that there's no need to worry anymore.

Wednesday wallowed in her self-pity and rage during most of the class, plucking her pen into her notebook until there was a hole in the pages.

Her foul mood came off of her in waves. You could feel it as you sat beside her, the tension was almost palpable and it was making you anxious.

"What's bothering you so much?" You tried asking, your hands clutching at the fabric of your hoodie when you hugged yourself, partly to chase away the cold, partly for comfort.

For a long minute, the raven-haired girl remained quiet, with her nails tapping her pen rhythmically. She wasn't looking at you and you almost thought she wasn't going to answer at all.

"I'm not-" Wednesday cut herself off with a huff, her lips tight. How can she tell you without actually telling you?

Slowly, her gaze found yours — the teacher up front eagerly talking about elixirs was long forgotten — and the thing about you that set her at ease was still there. Wednesday still couldn't tell what it was exactly, it just… happened.

This time, she didn't fight it.

"I was feeling something for a while," she admitted, quieter than she meant to, "and now, it appears that I'm not anymore."

Dark as Wednesday's eyes might be, you could see them shine; it took everything in you to prevent them from breaking you.

"I don't know how to feel about it," Wednesday finished, her jaw set painfully tight as she looked away from you.

———

Soft. The new soil was soft. A little cold and damp, but still soft.

It shifted between your fingers, little specks of dirt clinging to your skin as you spread it over the flowerbed of the quad.

Most students were out for their club activities; you and Enid managed to get this period free to start working on your little renovation project. It was nice to see the quad so quiet and calm, you were almost able to completely ease your mind.

"I can't wait to see the end result," Enid animatedly told you, carefully picking up one of the seedlings you had gathered from the greenhouse, "they're gonna look so pretty when the fountain is working again."

You chuckled, taking the little white flower she gave you, "I hope so. It'll look better than it does now, that's for sure." You placed down the flower, adjusting it carefully before covering the fragile roots with a thin layer of dirt.

First one done, many more to go. And you were still considering that new tree.

You took a small sunflower next — the one Enid chose — its petals were a little dry, so before placing it down on the soil, you held it between both your hands with care and allowed a little more life to flow into it.

"This is always so cool," Enid said lowly, her eyes glinting as she watched the yellow petals take on a brighter tone.

"I guess it is." You gently placed the flower on its new home with a faint smile.

Enid pushed your shoulder lightly, "stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Dismiss your abilities."

You grinned at the way Enid was frowning at you; "I'm not dismissing," you shrugged, "they just don't have much use other than making flowerbeds."

The werewolf raised an eyebrow at you, successfully ruining her pristine uniform as she sat down on the dirt, "that's not true, I could think of a thousand things to do if I controlled every plant I see."

Following suit, you sat down beside her, your knee brushing hers. "You know, when I was younger, I used to make these little soldiers out of branches and sticks, usually tying them together with vines and stuff like that," you told her, smiling at the memory of a younger you conquering the woods, "I'd make them move around, sometimes fight each other, or just walk with me. Pretend they were alive."

"I'd love to see that one day," Enid responds kindly.

For a moment you let yourself enjoy the feeling of having a real friend who likes you for you, it's nice, you'll keep her forever if she lets you. Yet your mind was still elsewhere, drowning in the image of dark eyes staring at you, lost in a way you'd never seen them before, and it was your fault.

"Enid," you called quietly, "have you ever done something that felt right at the time…" you're fidgeting with your hands, restless, "but then after a while… it doesn't anymore?"

She hums, considering your words, "I think so, but in the end, it always works out if you follow your heart."

Well, then I'm screwed. You thought to yourself.

"Why? Did something happen?" Enid asked worriedly, tilting her head to try and catch a glimpse of your eyes.

"No, I-" you pause, biting the inside of your cheek, "I did something, and I'm not sure if it was a mistake or not anymore."

"Did it make you happy? This thing that you did?"

"I don't think happy is the word that I'd use."

Enid was silent for a beat, then she asked; "can you fix it?"

Your eyes became unfocused, your mind drifting as the words just fell, like droplets of blood from a fresh wound; "I don't know how, or if she'd ever want me to."

———

Apparently, you had ruined glass walls and flower perfumes for Wednesday. Because you didn't show up for botany today, and she had a hard time concentrating.

It's unsettling that everything that you've been forcing her to feel, was still there, and it caused her to dive into some light obsessive research last night.

Wednesday had taken Enid's computer and dug up every last bit of information about soulmates she could find online — which honestly, was an overwhelming amount — ranging from how it works, if it can suddenly stop even if you haven't touched, and all the way to conspiracy theories about why it exists.

It was driving her a little mad that she didn't have all cards on the table, she hated the feeling of having missing facts. Her gut was telling her that it was you — as much as she doesn't want it to be — yet reason was telling her that it couldn't be.

Why does she care so much anyway?

The class ended and you were still nowhere to be seen. Wednesday was now walking through Nevermore's hallways, her destination being the library. Maybe the books could answer the questions that the internet was incapable of.

Wednesday let out an indignant scoff at the thought. Why wasn't that her first option?

The ominous library seemed empty, as it was most of the time. Bookshelves standing tall, creating dark corners and allowing only little bits of sunlight to seep through, and the weak table lamps being the only other source of light. She could spend hours here.

Wednesday walked from one shelf to another, her fingertips collecting dust from each book she took. Some of them were old, the pages fragile and already with a brown shade to them; yet none had the answers she wanted.

Maybe the problem was that she didn't know what exactly were her questions in the first place.

The sun was nearly setting when she grew bored of hitting dead ends, a deep golden glow was bathing the dark wooden floors and her shadow was moving with it as she walked.

Though when she rounded a corner, Wednesday abruptly stopped, her boots scratching the wood.

You sat on top of one of the library tables, the only one that was placed in front of a window. Your knees were crossed and you had a book in your hands, the words on it being illuminated by the slowly fading sunlight behind you.

Wednesday couldn't help but be enamored with shades of golden at that moment.

Whatever it was you did to her, was still there too, because she found herself walking closer. You felt her presence, your head snapped up to look at her after she took the second step.

"Wednesday," you said her name in nothing but a breath.

She walked until her fingertips were grazing the edge of your table, her expression unreadable, "where have you been all day?"

You gulped, the grip you had on your book tightening. "I was busy."

"Not what I asked," Wednesday said plainly.

It wasn't easy for you to be around her, your heart needed a break, so you took one. You curled in on yourself a little, "why do you want to know?"

Because for some unfathomable reason, your absence seems to bother me.

That's not what Wednesday said, but maybe she should have.

You sighed, lazily placing your book aside and getting down from the table. "I went to town to pick up a few flower seeds we didn't have in the greenhouse, no big deal."

Wednesday nodded softly, "you could've told me."

Your lips parted but no words came out, you didn't know what you could possibly answer to that. Where was this coming from?

"I'm sorry?" You stumble out, more like a question than anything else, "I didn't know you wanted to know that."

Wednesday blinked a couple of times. You were right, why would she want to know that? What was happening to her?

She shook her head, as if these feelings were nothing but a fog that would easily dissipate. Slowly, she took the rest of the steps necessary to close the distance between you, her eyes focused on the book you'd been holding.

"What are you reading?" She asked.

Your heart rate picked up its pace, you could hear it if you focused hard enough; all because you were trapped between Wednesday and the big window behind you. She's killing you slowly, her soul was too well entangled with yours for you to ever be free of this sweet torture.

You had to think quite hard about the answer because breathing isn't your brain's top priority right now and it's making you lightheaded.

"It's uh- The Diary of Jack the Ripper," you paused, tongue running over your bottom lip and you didn't even notice that Wednesday's gaze followed the motion, "it's interesting, kind of."

The last rays of sun are reflecting on Wednesday's dark eyes. She's close, so close that you can count every freckle, every speck of her lipstick.

You're unaware that she's thinking the same.

She's thinking about the way the golden light is framing the outlines of your jaw, about how your eyes can't seem to pick a spot on her face to focus on, about how your unsteady breathing is fanning over her lips but you still feel too far away.

Wednesday clenched her jaw in frustration, her eyes sharp as she put a step of distance between you, "I don't believe it," she breathed.

A deep frown settled on your face, "that I'm reading his book?"

"That it's not you," her words came out tight and low, as if it hurt her to say them. They sent a shiver down your spine.

Before you could even think about an answer, Wednesday grabbed your arm, her fingers closing around your wrist in a nearly bruising grip.

Your heartbeat faltered the same way hers did, the feeling of her skin against yours instantly blurred your vision with tears. All the feelings you've been trying to bottle up since you touched her for the first time were starting to spill over.

Wednesday harshly turned your wrist so your palm was up. She raised your sleeve, and time stood still for a second.

There, right on the pulse point of your wrist, laid a faint mark, just a few shades darker than your skin tone. If you looked closely, or in this case, not that closely, you could say its shape resembled a scorpion.

Wednesday didn't let go of you, but she averted her gaze. Her lips parted with ragged breaths, the lower one trembling against her will.

You could feel fresh tears making their way down your cheeks and dripping from your chin, Wednesday only looked back at you when one of them landed on her thumb.

"You knew," she growled quietly. With her free hand, she raised her own sleeve to show a mark identical to yours, "you knew and you didn't tell me." She raised her voice then, her midnight eyes boring into yours and making you flinch.

For a while, you thought you knew pain, but nothing could compare to this. "I thought I'd spare you from the inconvenience." With that, you forcefully pulled your arm away from her hold as if she burned you.

For a moment, the action dulled Wednesday's anger for being kept in the dark about something this… important? And she finally noticed your tear-stained cheeks.

Too late, because she couldn't get a word in before you were pushing past her, your shoulder bumping into hers as you ran away from the library, away from her.

Wednesday was frozen to the floorboards, her eyes fixed on the spot you'd just been. She's feeling an ocean of emotions; they're nauseating, raising bile to her throat, so many things at once but what she expected — wanted — to feel, wasn't there, she didn't hate you.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 5 here

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @heelaechan @imagine-reblog @gayestfeels26 @sakurarukas @bluetreecloud20 @the-night-owl-blr @imlike-so-gaydude @user284747 @dreifhraniquo29 @emeraldevan @simp4nat @boobabietch @impossibleliv1031 @deadpool-in-a-snood @rainbow-love4ever @maria-403 @pompompuri @halleest @wandaromanova @marveloussimp @rainbow-hedgehog @left-and-right-up-and-down @get-the-fuck-outta-here @awolfcsworld @elduster @alexkolax @georgi-salva @imdumbhi @ladey @youralphawolf72 @reginassweetheart @justyourwritter69 @yangsroboarmm @8e-h-e8 @wednssimp @machinesanaloginterface

[ask-the-abomination]

Introductory

The sun would bestow upon this land it's beloved warmth, finally beginning a full start of a new day! The local wild Pokémon would go about their merry way throughout this verdant forest, all the while the Swablus sung in complete harmonic unison. Everything appears to be in a state of perfect tranquility. … Or so one would have assumed.

An odd-colored Scatterbug had grown rather inquisitive about what she had stumbled upon. A metallic device of the sort. But of what purpose does it hold? It doesn't quite appear to hold any beneficial use, as it seems to be way beyond repair and had seem to have already fallen into the grasp's of mother nature. Because of it's fallen structure, it would likely stray the attention of others. At best, many would simply assume that it is nothing more than mere junk. But… If it were to had landed to the eyes of the right Pokémon… Or, in this particular case, a snout--

The Scatterbug shuddered in sheer terror. Her movement fallen completely paralyzed at the sight of someone's muzzle just barging ever so near within her vicinity. The insect felt endangered. Consumed into the assumption that this may be her end. However, despite her fear, the larger Pokémon express zero interest towards her. Instead, they seem to be far more intent on the damaged device on the ground. Sniff… Sniff… They would take a few whiff at the piece of metal. Allowing the fragrance of another's scent to wave around inside their nostrils. Even though nature's aroma had lingered on this object for an unknown amount of time, it hadn't taken long for the canine's thoughts to click.

"-!! HIS SCENT HAS BEEN FOUND!" The canine would growl from beneath her breath, as she spoke. Although, she can't quite hide her words in hush-hush, when the increased amplitude of her tone is heavily audible for many to hear. "NOT A DOUBT THAT THE OTHER IS WITH S-047. BROTHERS, APPROACH! A LEAD HAS BEEN FOUND!". Her call being louder than a Whismur's cry. It wasn't long until two Houndooms would reveal themselves from beyond the luxuriant, grassy path. Though, it didn't particularly seemed like they were too far off from the female Houndoom's location. Nevertheless, they were here. Marking three not-so-welcoming looking hounds in this territory.

The one leaning to the western direction would salivate, as he laughs maniacally. While the other in the eastern side would retain his silence, as the flames wisp through from side to side of his jaw. The lead Houndoom would only growl in a rather overreacted, yet unprovoked irritation. Her voice would explode in volume once more, this time her tone shifting to a sound that is of a mixture between authoritarian and belligerence. Much to the displeasure of the brothers. "CHOP, CHOP, WE HAVE TO LOCATE AT A NINJASK'S PACE! NOT AFTER BREAKFAST, NOT LATER— WE HAVE TO FIND THEM, NOW! WE CANNOT LET THEM OUT FROM THE GRIP OF OUR CLAWS AGAIN! THE MORE TIME WE WASTE, THE GREATER THE OPPORTUNITY ARISES FOR THOSE TWO LESSERS TO ESCAPE!" "DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?" Silence. Neither of the brotherly duo have chosen to answer her. "I SAID: DO… I… MAKE… MYSELF… CLEAR?!!" The female Houndoom repeated herself. Beginning to sound increasingly irritable through her voice. It had taken but a very brief moment before the two-eyed brother would widely open his jaws and spoke out. "MMMMMM I THINK NES WOULD SUFFICE! A NO, A YES, A NES! GRAHAHAHA!!" He boomed in absolute laughter at his not-so-funny joke. "… YOU ARE AN IDIOTIC DUNCE! DON'T WASTE MY TIME WITH YOUR PATHETIC ATTEMPT OF HUMOR."

Unbeknownst to the trio…

--They were being closely watched by someone from above the trees.

His tail would sway back and forth, as he was not-so-secretly showing the fact that he seemed a little too delightfully chipper at the sight. "It really took these three stooges loooooonnnnnnggggg to arrive here. I was starting to feel pretty bored of not seeing any of their flee-riddle-piss-gobblin' selves, kekeke~." As amused as this slender Sylveon sounded, it became rather short-lived as a smidge of disappointment had settled in. Already he holds full awareness that a particular someone would shrivel in sadness that they have to leave their current 'home'. Something that he doesn't particular look forward to seeing…. Again.

However, before this 'wimp' individual could be informed of such news, the Sylveon had needed to carry out a plan first. Most considering that it does hold importance to the current predicament at hand. That problem being the involvement of the Houndooms that is directly below him. The slender Sylveon would raise up a paw, nearing chin-length. A grim fog would gather around from the very central part of his paw-pad, appearing the same moment that his arm was halted in motion. Soon, the mist appearance would be more of a spherical shape. It was radiating harsh, ominous energy as its form was appearing more and more like a shadowy blob. The elemental skill that he is casting upon is known as none other than Shadow Ball.

When the Ghost-type skill had fully materialized, the Sylveon had seized this chance to thrust his paw forward. Unleashing a dark, powerful orb of ominous energy. However… It would appear that the target of his attack wasn't aimed towards the location of any of the Houndooms. Oh, no, no, no. This Sylveon is quite well aware that a Pokemon like these hounds are not vulnerable against this particular attack. After all, Ghost is ineffective against Dark types. So, he had opted into a more strategic course. One that would prove to be much more beneficial to himself. He had allowed the Shadow Ball to be launched into….

BAM!!! The tree was struck by a powerful blow from the orb! It had already became evident that his goal was to create a distraction. And, well… It became quite a success! The intent was to take advantage of the Houndoom's blindness and bare sense of hearing. Thanks to the sound of the explosion, the trio would immediately snap their head towards its location. Their focus was completely lured into the Sylveon's bait, much like how a Magikarp would immediately bite into a Caterpie strapped onto a hook! Without a moment to lose, the two Houndooms would quickly bolt their way towards the tree. While on the other hand, the one-eyed Houndoom would take a much more slower pace to follow his siblings. It was as if he was intentionally lagging behind… And yet, he spoke nothing of it. Nor did he seem to be expressing any notable, diverted attention. The Sylveon, once seeing the foolish hounds heading towards the distracting direction, would finally have himself come down from the tree. Of course, setting himself at a careful and gentler pacing. After all, he still needs to avoid creating any additional sounds to attract any sort of attention to himself. It wouldn't be ideal to get caught now!

The Sylveon would grant the world his unsettling grin. A smile so wide, it spread from ear to ear and revealed the sharpest of teeth. This creature's disproportionate body would react rather joyous to this small act of success. By, well… Swaying his butt in a rhythmic manner and moving his hips from side to side, exuding a massive amount of confidence. Even his tail was getting all jiggy with it! The eyeball bouncing around as if there were no big deal! It genuinely gave him a shine of immense pleasure to easily deceive these Houndooms once more. As simple of a plan as it was, this still doesn't dissuade the Sylveon's utter proudness.

The female Houndoom howled in anger, as she pace around the broken tree. Furiously sniffing the ground near it, trying her damnest to see if she can capture the scent of their targets. "GRRRR, REVEAL YOURSELVES YOU COWARDS! YOU HAVE ONE CHANCE TO TURN YOURSELVES IN, PEACEFULLY! FAILURE TO COMPLY WILL RESULT IN BRUTE FORCE!!"

The demanded sound would unfortunately fall into death's ears, as the Sylveon had far departed from the hound's location. Only a differing of words would be heard, moreso from the double-cheeked up Starly. The avian's piercing howls, sobbing about their home being destroyed from some uncivilized brute! How someone must pay for such unwarranted demolition!

Soon a transition to the story would shift towards a different creature. One who is located in the same forested area, but not as near to the location of the Houndooms.

"I-I… I don't understand… Why?" "I've looked and couldn't find any answers…" "..." "… I still don't know who, or what I even am…"

The tall amalgamation would clench his paws tightly. He appeared to be very troubled by the thoughts that is racing throughout his head. Uncertainty… Unresolved… Incomplete… "What if…" A moment of pause was brought into attention. His voice have befallen, becoming quieter and quieter. His inner emotion becoming a twisted knot. "… What if I'd never--".

SNAP

His focus had been snapped awake, bringing his attention back into reality. All because of the sudden sound of a cracked branch. One that sounded far too close to him… This would, however, prompt him to be grasped by the state of a feeling: Panicked. It made him felt fearful towards of what—or, more crucially, who—caused that noise. His face, paled in fright, as his fur stand on ends from the terrified sensation coursing throughout his body. In response, he would quickly turn to face towards the direction of the sound. Hindsight doesn't seem to be 20/20 for this taller creature, as he would immediately blabber nervously and loudly to whoever may have caused the sound.

"I-I, UH-- I DON'T TASTE GOOD! REALLY, I HAVE AWFUL FLAVORING! PLEASE! LET ME LIVE! IF YOU WANT, I'LL LEAVE! PLEASE, D-DON'T HURT ME! I HAVE SO MUCH TO LIVE FOR!" … It was at that moment, the mix-match abominable creature would fall deathly silent. Now taking realization of who the culprit was from behind the sound of the snapped branches. That being none other than this fabulously-slender and obviously the most handsome Sylveon!

"Yeesh. If it was this easy to get your fluff-dump to leave, I would of scared the living daylights out of you sooner, kekek~. Then again, it reeeeaaaallllllyyyyyy isn't that hard to make you scareder than a Wimpod, Vin~." Blink, blink, blink. 'Vin' had to blink several times, as his fears was washed away and perplexity had taken its place. He would open his mouth, wanting to question the Sylveon's whereabouts. "Sabor, wh--!!". And yet, he couldn't say anything further than a name. Why? well, it may be because Sabor, the Sylveon, would press both ribbons against the other's lips. Smothering his mouth, keeping him in a hush tone. "You really ought to lower those crusty kissers of yours, Vin~. I really wouldn't want to see either of those boot-licking 'dooms rushing into our place, all because of your wimpy screams. You really need to have some sense of danger~." 'Vin' would stare at the Sylveon, his eyes widen in shock. Based on what information was brought to him, he wished that he could be in disbelief. Hoping to not believe that this disheartening day has finally come. Sure, he wasn't oblivious from the fact that such a day were to come, where the Houndooms would make mark of their location. Undoubtedly, considering that the time of their encounter has exceeded its duration. But 'Vin' emotionally held onto that string of hope. The potential possibility that maybe, just maybe, that the hounds would never make an appearance. That the duo could finally be at peace and no longer could they run from what they avoid. To live a life of normalcy. 'Vin' would softly brush Sabor's ribbons away from his mouth, as he spoke in a rather discouraged tone. "No… They couldn't- shouldn't… Why… W-Why now?…". His head droop like a hanged curtain. Sabor would only wave his paw in a very dismissive manner. He would use one of his ribbon to flick itself onto 'Vin' horn. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Look, I know you love this place and all, Vincent. But it's better we get our asses out as soon as we can, before dumb, dumber, and dumbest finds us. I'm not going to stick around and get my ass captured by those rotten flee bags." In truth, Sabor had never felt appealed to take residence in this particular area. It simply just wasn't as ideal as the previous landmarks they've temporarily lived at. So if anything, this was a masked opportunity that had to be seized.

Vincent head would arose. While wishing to speak more of this topic, his eyes seem to have taken notice of something else. Something-- Or moreso SOMEONE, whom stood behind Sabor… Alarmed, Vincent would point towards Sabor. Pointing towards you. " S… Sabor… Who are they?". His tone a little shaken, as he had never expected to see another. The Sylveon's tail would in a flash face its direction towards you, to have its watchful eyes wield a piercing gaze directly AT you. Straight away, Sabor would pull his ribbons away from Vincent. The ribbons would wrap around the air, as sparks of flames begun to emit onto them. It was starting to begin to create shape. Taking form of a curved, sharp blade. A scythe of the sort, engulf into nothing but pure fire. He was manipulating his next set of skill, making it be more weapon-like. This move is known as Mystical Fire.

"T... They don't look like one of them. I think they're friendly...". His words paused for a good moment. Vincent was taking into realization that he doesn't quite have a full grasp of whether or not the being in front of them could possibly have any ill-motives. This caused him to back track a little. "O-Or at least, don't look like someone who would hunt us down like those guys. I, um, r-really don't think you should attack them."

"... Sometimes I think your 'pacifism' will be the death of you someday, dude. You really are a word-to-word textbook definition of a boner killer. Really killing the murder-this-totally-not-so-suspicious-stranger mood here~." Sabor would lower the flaming scythe, letting the flames dissipate into nothingness. However, the Sylveon will remain alerted and held his guard up towards you.

~{ The duo is now available for asks! }~

[yannaryartside]

Possible meanings for Sydney's tattoo

the past, present, and future.

So, obviously, the tattoo is supposed to represent pain and heartbreak. It is the tarot card: Three of Swords.

Still, it is very curious in the context of the scenes it was shown in, what we know about Sydney, and the possible meanings of the tarot card itself. I would like to explore the possible meanings of it all. If I put something in quotes, it means a meaning attributed to the tarot card I found. 

Even if "heartbreak" could have a lot of meanings, in Sydney's case, I think it's safe to bet it is about a romantic relationship; otherwise, They wouldn't have shown it in the context of her undressing herself, edited right before a shot of Claire running to kiss Carmy. Carmy was making pasta, something she was doing with her one morning when they were at peace at his apartment, their bond in full motion. But now Carmy is in his apartment with Claire, making pasta for her; in the shot, right before he kisses Claire, Carmy is cleaning the table right before she comes in as if Carmy is trying to erase Sydney's presence from the object and his memory.

The card could be about Sydney, Carmy, and Clare; foreshadowing, its 3 swords 3 people in a love triangle. 

"This is likely to be a time of tears, sadness, and heartbreak in your life. If you're in a relationship, this can sometimes point to a breakup, a conflict, or separation. Since this card is a three, it can also mean to a third party, creating trouble in your relationship." 

It could be about the turmoil of Sydney and Carmy's relationship:

"You and your partner may face complex problems to remain together. Without clear and respectful discussions and a willingness to work together, the relationship can reach its end."

This last sentence may summarize the entire continuity of Syd and Carmy's connection to this day. Of course, the tattoo does not predict the future, this is still about a love-related wound of her past, but we are talking about the Bear, things have multiple meanings. The fact that she was hurt by someone that Carmy reminds him of in any way, someone she lost over a hurtful exchange of words when Carmy and her have such miscommunications but yet so much telepathic connection...would be brilliant.

3 swords: love triangle, past and present. Sydney is somehow finding herself at the center of multiple love triangles. Marcus-Sydney-Carmy, and Sydney-Carmy-Claire. It would be quite ironic to find out this is something she was involved in before, the reason she got the tattoo in the first place. So, she will be a woman who has lived through 3 love triangles (3 of 3).

A mark of a damaging relationship.

"Your heart has been pierced by the sharp blades of others' hurtful words, actions, and intentions, and they have inflicted intense emotions of pain, sadness, grief, and heartbreak (...) hurt and disappointment".

I don't mean to say she was in a toxic relationship. She has so little tolerance for Carmy's bullshit to tolerate a poisonous partner; she calls bad behavior what it is. But I think it could be a reminder of a relationship that ended badly, that left a scar in her heart, maybe accentuated by hurtful words like "this is all your fault" and "this is why you will never accomplish anything." This meaning could also be foreshadowing about Carmy, someone whose words have hurt her in the past. 

It may be about Sydney having a "closed" heart like the swords are interjecting one another in the handles of the door of her heart, closing it forever. This is another meaning of the card:

'If you're single, it may be that past grief and suffering is affecting your ability to date. Past wounds have not yet healed, and it's important to give yourself time before you attempt to find love again." 

I like these last two theories the most, and they are not mutually exclusive. It could give us an idea that Sydney has experienced a departure/rejection/abandonment from a loved one that is as traumatic for her as Mickey's abandonment was for Carmy. This will be her "core' wound, what John Truby calls "the character's ghost." Carmy lost his brother after not speaking to him for who knows how long, and she could have lost someone after a hurtful exchange of words, even followed by an abrupt death too.

Little side note, I kinda love that they use the "optimistic character with the darkest past" trope, which is so common in anime, my friend and I used to say "You see that goofy ass making jokes all the time, with colorful clothes, bright smiles that could cure diseases, the one making sure everyone can reach their full potential? yeah that one has the worst past of them all" That is basically Sidney, so much dramatic irony in putting her (and pairing her) with someone like Carmy who is the "boy that looks exactly as fuck up as he actually is" trope.

Her mother's death is a profound one, yes. Still, I doubt that loss could have taught her to be "closed" to love, especially growing up with such a loving father; who reminds her often of how much he loved her mother. If she ever learned to equal love with pain, she didn't learn it from him, because Emanuel seems grateful that the love was there in the first place. He doesn't think, "I wish I never had her because I wouldn't ever have experienced this kind of pain," partially because he wouldn't otherwise have Sydney. Still, it is a response to many people's grief, the regret of the love itself. 

I recently read this post; shoutout to @bioloyg for this finding: Sydney doesn't say "I love you" to her father, even after he tells her that the restaurant "is the thing," his approval was the thing that carried her arc in this season. Well, she doesn't "say it" out loud; you can see she "mouths" it. There is a reason why there are scenes when we see Sydney run away from Marcus' forms of affection (Marcus staring at her in conversation in 2x01, and feeling the need to make a joke after seeing Marcus staring at her with heart eyes in their Facetime call after the "I miss you too"). Her heart is closed for business (see what I did there). She has feelings for Carmy already, but maybe she is contextualizing them in the feelings of being abandoned by a friend or "partner." The strength of these feelings is something she has yet to realize. If she ever does, will it be on her own or after Carmy has figured out his feelings for her and starts to show it in any way? In the table scene, it is, to us, the first time she has ever caught him staring at her, and only because of how vulnerable she feels does she have the need to look at him back. My god, just the idea of being afraid to open your wound and "close for business" heart to someone who hasn't learned what healthy love is yet... these two are soulmates that could be so poisonous to one another, yet so deeply healing.