#I hate him for being so perfect and giving me false hope

[thornestar]

Me @ my wife every second

[nadvs]

home before dark (part two)

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary as children, you and rafe were best friends, but then tragedy suddenly struck his family and he shut everybody out. years later, you need his help when a pushy ex-boyfriend won’t leave you alone. rafe is perfect for the job because everybody’s afraid of him. except for you.

content warnings stalker ex, violence, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent

» masterlist

· · ── ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ── · ·

After Rafe leaves, you make sure every door and window in your home is shut and locked.

You don’t know if Ty would do something as crazy as break in. But there was a time you’d laugh in disbelief at the thought of him hurling insults at you and that was all he did by the end of your relationship, so you’re not taking any chances.

Beneath the fear he impales you with lies a sense of betrayal. He was so good at pretending to be kind. Only a monster could put on such a convincing act just to break your heart.

When you tell yourself he’ll move on soon, you hate that it feels like false hope.

You text Sarah to let her know you made it home and that you’ll see her at tonight’s beach party. Even though Ty will probably be there, you don’t want him having any more power over you than he already has.

You’re determined to have fun. To have a life. Especially because you have someone protecting you now.

Rafe is unnerved as he stands on the beach under the starry sky that night, surrounded by the guys he parties with all the time.

The crowds and the conversations are all the same, but everything is different now. Because he’s looking out for you and it gives him something he hasn’t had in a long time. Purpose.

It’s disorienting to Rafe, going from avoiding you to keeping his eyes on you so persistently. From afar, he watches you laughing with your friends and now that he has a reason to, he takes you in completely.

He’d be an idiot not to admit that you’re beautiful. But he always knew that, no matter how hard he pretended not to notice you.

You slowly drift further away into the crowd. Rafe continues checking on you, keeping you in his sights.

Later on in the night, you’re in deep conversation with Sarah. Being three years her senior, you were much closer to Rafe when you were kids, but now you’d consider her a good friend.

When her eyes widen at something behind you, your body goes cold, expecting the worst. You turn to see your ex approaching you, a nearly empty beer bottle in his hand.

“Where’s Rafe?” you ask Sarah, hushed.

“Rafe?” she echoes in confusion. While she knows all about your ex, you haven’t had a chance to tell her that her brother is helping you put on a farce. You’re sure she’ll be in disbelief when you catch her up.

“Hey,” Ty says gently, his hand at the small of your back. The sensation you once welcomed makes you sick. “Can we talk? Please? I’m sorry about last night.”

It’s no surprise. You’re used to him yo-yoing between belittling you and putting on his nice guy act.

“No,” you respond, twisting so that his hand slips off of you. “How many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone?”

The booze in his system slows him down, but Rafe treads through the sand to you as fast as he can the second he sees Ty talking to you.

Suddenly, Rafe’s broad back is in front of you, a wall separating you from the man who’s tormenting you. When Rafe’s there, you realize Ty doesn’t scare you at all.

“Fuck off,” Rafe mutters.

Ty drunkenly staggers back, creating several feet of distance between you. His face contorts with annoyance.

“You know you’re just a bullshit rebound, right?” Ty calls. You look back at Sarah, who’s watching the exchange in confusion.

“I can’t hear you when you’re running away from me, pussy,” Rafe taunts.

Anger churns inside you at Ty’s words, prompting you to grab Rafe’s hand. You know Rafe couldn’t care less - after all, this relationship is all an act - but Ty calling him a rebound, insinuating that he’s meaningless to you, bothers you.

You pull him away, cupping his fingers with both hands.

Rafe was an inch away from chasing Ty and swinging at him. If it wasn’t for the alcohol blurring his senses, his fist would be aching right now from driving it into Ty’s jaw.

His entire body is stiff with rage, but for once in his life, the tension is dissolving instead of building up onto itself. It’s from the way your hands feel on him.

“What an asshole,” you say. Even though you should probably let go of him, you can’t.

Your touch is so warm. Rafe wants to ask why you reserve kindness for him after he shoved you out of his life. He wishes he could wipe it from his memory, the look on your face after he denied your every effort to talk to him. You grew up, but the disappointment in your stare never changed.

But he doesn’t know how to say all this. He doesn’t talk like that. With anybody. He couldn’t even talk to the therapist his father took him to see after it happened.

Maybe if he had asked him why he couldn’t so much as look at her, Rafe would have told his dad that the therapist’s blonde hair and gentle tone reminded him too much of his mother.

But after she told Ward that Rafe “wasn’t responding to therapy”, all he did was angrily yank his son out of the office, his grasp tight and painful.

Once they made it home, Rafe tearfully rushed to his parents’ bed to try to smell his mother on her pillow even though the sheets had been washed.

He spent most of his childhood pretending he was bigger than he was, eager to grow up. But he remembers nuzzling his head into her pillow that day, hyperventilating and thinking he was too small to know his heart could hurt this bad.

It felt like no time had passed when Rose came into the picture. Rafe knew his parents weren’t in a happy marriage, but he didn’t expect Ward to start seeing another woman so soon.

Rafe angrily confronted his dad, as if a ninety-pound kid could be any sort of threat. It was the first time Ward slapped him. He’s certain that it wasn’t the first time his father wanted to hit him, but his mother had always been his defence. And then in an instant, Rafe didn’t have her anymore.

You reach the shore together, far away enough from the crowd. You pull your hands away from Rafe and cross your arms, gazing at him under the moonlight.

“I wish he’d just stop already,” you say, shaken from Ty’s sudden approach. “Thank you. Again.”

“It’s fine,” Rafe says flatly. But he doesn’t walk away from you. He simply looks out at the dark sea with his hands in his pockets.

The waves crash beside you, the water climbing and retreating over the sand, threatening to wet your shoes.

The last time you stood together looking out at the water like this, you were kids skipping stones over the ocean’s swells. And because he’s not leaving, you take the opportunity to see if he’ll let you in, even just a little bit.

You crouch to pick up a small, smooth stone and try to skip it over the water. It immediately falls straight below the surface. You breathe a short laugh.

“That sucked,” Rafe says. His tone is lighter than what you’re used to.

“It’s been a while,” you retort. “And that rock wasn’t very flat.”

“Sure.” Despite himself, he cracks a smirk.

You can’t remember the last time you saw happiness on his face. He has his mother’s smile.

“You were better at finding the flat ones,” you say.

“I was better at everything.”

“And still so humble about it.” You haven’t joked around with him like this in so long that it feels new. “Prove it, then.”

“What?”

“That you can do better than me,” you say. “Get two skips, at least.”

Rafe keeps his hands in his pockets, looking down at the stones scattered atop the sand. The wind whips around you, threatening rain.

“We’re not kids anymore,” he rasps. If you want to take a walk down memory lane, you can do it alone.

He steps back, inviting the distance that lived between you for years to return. Yet another dismissal.

You step back, too. Your arms are not so much crossed anymore; you’re practically hugging yourself now. You need the comfort and he certainly isn’t going to give it to you.

“Did I do something wrong… before?” you impulsively say. Now that you have his attention, you find a shred of courage to ask him what’s been turning in your mind for years.

Deep down, you’ve always feared it wasn’t just the shock of what happened that made Rafe shut you out. Maybe you did or said something that deemed your friendship not worth keeping. Maybe you were too pushy. Or not pushy enough.

Rafe’s throat tightens. He never planned to have this conversation. He never wanted to.

You see his jaw clench. His silence is loud enough. It’s obvious he’s done speaking.

“Nevermind,” you say dejectedly. You turn, but his deep voice stops you.

“Where are you going?” he asks, his protective instinct kicking in again.

“Back to my friends,” you say.

“He’ll just bother you again,” Rafe states. “Come on.”

He tilts his head towards the side of the beach he was on. Looking at the group of the same rowdy guys you always see him with in the distance makes you frown.

No matter how much you’ve missed him, you know that standing silently next to him while he jokes around with his friends will just be a painful reminder of how he chose them and not you.

“I’ll be fine,” you say.

“It wasn’t a question,” Rafe snaps abruptly.

For the first time since you started speaking again, the compassion you always feel for him is overpowered by anger. You know he’s helping you, but his domineering tone reminds you of how Ty speaks to you.

“I’ll be fine,” you repeat. The cold tide reaches your feet, soaking your shoes.

Irritation pricks Rafe’s skin. For years, you’ve been trying to force conversations with him, and now, when he’s inviting you to stay by his side, you’re shutting him down?

As you walk away, the feeling of rejection screws a hole into his chest. Then he realizes that this is the cold, empty way he’s been making you feel for years.

“I know,” you say when you see Sarah, acknowledging her puzzled expression, linking arms with her.

You’re about to tell her this is all a game of pretend, but the risk of Ty finding out from anyone overhearing or her accidentally mentioning it to someone is too scary.

“What was that?” she says with a disbelieving laugh.

“Rafe and I… started talking again. The other night. And we’re seeing each other now.”

“Wow,” is all she can say. She glances across the beach, as if looking at Rafe will offer any sort of clarity.

You haven’t spoken much about him with Sarah. Years ago, you’d often tell her how much you wished he’d just talk to you again and she’d tell you he doesn’t talk to anyone anymore.

She knows your relationship with him is strained and basically non-existent. You feel bad for lying to her, but your fear of Ty is too big to take any risks.

As the night carries on, your ex stays away from you.

Before heading home, you separate from your friends for just a moment to throw out your cup when you see a figure approaching you.

Goosebumps grow across your skin as Ty passes by behind you, his keys jingling in his hand.

“You planning on hiding behind him forever?” he asks. “What’s gonna happen when he’s not around, huh?”

You stare at him with a scowl, hoping your face isn’t showing just how frightened you are.

To your relief, Ty continues on his way, crossing into the parking lot. You remember him picking you up in the car you watch him sit in now and how he acted like such a gentleman, all the while hiding who he really was.

He succeeded in scaring you. His words left you unsettled, tears pricking your eyes, your breath shallow. The thought of going home and sleeping alone fills you with dread.

Maybe it was just an empty threat. But maybe it wasn’t.

You need someone to stay with you tonight. You rush back onto the sand towards the other side of the beach.

Rafe’s gaze is fixed on one of his friends telling a drunken story. But then you appear, crossing the distance with a fear-struck expression.

“What’d he do?” Rafe mutters, his body tensing. “Where is he?”

“He left,” you respond. Your anxiety pushes you to hold his forearm for some stability.

“What’d he do?” he repeats.

“He… said some stuff,” you say, voice shaking. “Can you-”

“I told you to stay with me,” Rafe interrupts. He’s seething. This could have been prevented if you had just listened to him.

But the way you’re breathing and holding onto him, as if you’re lost at sea and he’s the only thing keeping you afloat, makes him regret snapping.

“And I didn’t listen because you yelled at me just like he does,” you mumble quietly, letting go.

The comparison stings. He shouldn’t blame you. He knows that. And now that the booze has worn off, he’d love a shot at Ty with nothing slowing him down.

Some of his buddies are watching you two in confusion. They’d never seen you together and now you’re clearly in a heated conversation. Just like a couple fighting.

“What were you gonna ask me?” Rafe says, wishing he hadn’t interrupted you.

You’re unsure if you should ask. But even with your home’s security system in place, who knows how long police would take to arrive after a triggered alarm? You need someone already there in case Ty is crazy enough to break in. Someone you know can protect you.

“Can you stay at my house tonight?“ you mumble. “I’m scared of being alone.”

Rafe falters. He agreed to pretend to be your boyfriend, and staying with you is a boyfriend thing to do, but the pressure of being in an empty house together after years of avoiding you makes him uneasy.

Yet, at the same time, the prospect of being completely alone with you gives him a sense of home that only adds to the confusion that’s been clouding in his mind.

“Did you drive here?” he finally says.

You know next to nothing about Rafe these days, but you do know that he does almost everything alone. He never arrives or leaves parties with people. It’s always just him on his motorcycle.

“I came with a friend,” you reply. “But I can wait until you’re ready to leave.”

His muscles lose some of their tension. You’d be willing to stand here and wait for as long as you’d need to just so you don’t have to be on your own. You’re desperate.

Rafe stays out until he’s exhausted. It’s how he makes sure the second he’s in bed, he can take a shot or do a line and fall asleep right away, giving no opportunity to be subjected to his thoughts.

But guilt is a powerful opponent and this is a fight he knows he’ll lose.

“Let’s go,” he sighs.

After you let your friend know you have a ride home, you make your way to Rafe’s motorcycle with him in silence.

He grabs his helmet from the boot, thoughtlessly about to put it on. But then he remembers he’s not alone for once.

He holds the helmet out to you. You hesitate, about to ask him if he has an extra for himself, but why would he?

“You sure?” you ask.

“Take it.”

“You don’t have to,” you say. Rafe sends a groan towards the starry sky.

“Goddamn it, do you have to be so difficult?” he mutters. The edge of his tone is cutting. You’re fed up.

“I know you’re doing me a favor, but could you stop being so rude about it?” you say.

Rafe exhales in frustration. Shit. He’s sure he’s acting just like your asshole ex again.

“Isn’t the whole point of this to keep you safe?” he says, softness in his voice. “Can you just put it on?”

You look up at him through your lashes. His forlorn gaze extinguishes the fire of your irritation and you relent, accepting the helmet, the shell cold and hard in your hands.

Rafe swings his leg over the bike, turning on the engine. He glances back at you as you put the helmet on.

You steady yourself and straddle the sputtering motorcycle. It’s nerve-racking placing your hands on Rafe’s hips.

With his feet on the ground, he drags his big hands over yours and guides them up to his abdomen.

“You have to hold tighter,” he half-shouts over the engine. You obey, your chest pressing against his back, your arms wrapping around his torso.

You wonder if he can feel how fast your heart is pounding. His t-shirt is so thin. His body is firm and warm.

You appreciate that he gave you his helmet, but you wish it wasn’t in the way now so that you could lean on him and press your cheek between his shoulder blades.

Your mind has run away from you. It’s odd craving someone who doesn’t seem to like you all that much. You still don’t even know why he’s helping you.

As Rafe drives out of the lot, slower than he usually would, he hates that he likes the feeling of you wrapped around him this much. He’s been pushing this sort of closeness away for so long. He didn’t know it could feel so good.

As he drives beneath the glowing streetlights, he can’t remember the last time he felt proud of himself like he does now. The relief that washed over your face when he told you he’d stay at your house is replaying in his mind.

While he’s the one protecting you, you’re giving him something, too. You’re pulling him away from the sense of aimlessness he lives in every day.

Rafe goes to his place first, stuffing the things he’ll need to sleep over into a duffle bag and draping it across his chest, before driving to your house.

When you step through the front door together, he watches you quickly enter your code into the security panel, then rush to shut and lock the door.

You’re clearly still so terrified. Rafe needs to know exactly what Ty did to make you act like this.

“What’d he say to you?” he breaks the silence, dropping his bag into his hand. “Tonight. What’d he say?”

You lean against the door, hands tucked behind you as you look up at him. It’s odd, Rafe being in your house. You never thought he’d be here again.

“He asked me if I’m gonna hide behind you forever and what I’ll do when you’re not with me,” you say. It makes Rafe want to kill the idiot with his bare hands.

“I’d call the police,” you continue, “but they don’t help unless he actually does something. Or if there’s proof that he’s planning to. I just hope he gets tired of it so you don’t have to keep doing this.”

Rafe wants to tell you he’ll be here for you for as long as you need him. It’s a shock that his knee-jerk reaction is to make a promise to anyone, let alone to you.

But it’s no surprise that your focus is on how this is affecting him. He still can’t figure out what could possibly make you think he’s worth the consideration.

“Where am I sleeping?” he asks, settling for the easy way out of the conversation.

You lead him upstairs to the guest room a few doors down from your bedroom. Rafe’s eyes travel over the family photos organized in a neat grid on the hallway wall, watching you grow up through every image.

His heart lurches at an image of four people on the beach. It’s you two as kids, surrounded by your smiling mothers. He hasn’t looked at a photo of his mom in years.

You notice the sound of Rafe’s footsteps stop and you look back to see him staring at a photo. You’ve memorized the wall by now, knowing exactly which one he’s looking at.

What can you possibly say? That you miss her, too? You can’t come close to understanding his grief.

His forehead crinkles, his Adam’s apple bobs with a hard swallow, and you swear you see him stop breathing for a moment. Then his gaze darts off of the photo and you silently lead him the rest of the way.

Rafe enters the room you take him to and swings the door behind him without a word.

You get ready for bed and settle under your covers. Knowing you’re not alone helps you doze off within minutes.

You’re in a deep sleep when a loud clang pulls you into consciousness. Immediately, you fear it’s Ty.

But once you hear the tapping on the window, you realize it’s storming outside. A roll of thunder is what woke you up. You check the time to see it’s nearly two a.m.

Thunder rumbles again as you slip out of bed. Your survival instinct is beckoning you to go check on Rafe, to make sure he’s still here in case you need him.

You turn on the hallway light and see that the guest room door is just slightly open. And the bed is empty.

Before you can jump to conclusions, you hear a laugh track spilling out of the television downstairs. He didn’t leave.

You’re pretty sure Rafe doesn’t want you disrupting his solitude. But you need to know why he’s doing all this for you. It’s been tumbling in your mind since he agreed to it. That’s what gives you the push to go downstairs and find him.

(part three)

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[gremlingottoosilly]

More on the poor girl who’s 141’s chewtoy?

She has the worst fate!! Being a pet wife/incubator for one monster is bad enough, but it can be manageable if your new owner isn't an asshole and doesn't treat you like a lifeless object. It's a rare case, sure, but even Konig is somewhat softer after you get his eggs, the mating instincts in monsters are all kicking in. The 141 however...I love to see them as a pack of different breed shifters, maybe were-creatures like bears, wolves, and various birds...they all have this semi-animalistic mentality, they formed a pack bond that is stronger than any blood relations. They are more than family and it's only natural that they share the same darling, yes? Unfortunately for you, it is only natural for them, and you're soon getting dragged from the human pet shop by an excited overgrown werewolf with a dumb mohawk that chirps about getting such a pretty girl for his team!! You are never alone - every time other team members are on a mission, the other ones take care of you, always keeping watch over your silly escape attempts like humans have any future in the monster world now( Gaz is usually the one who is softer with you, his nature as a werebird is making him somewhat more caring, he will drag you a lot of shiny gifts and flashy clothes because he is pretty and he wants his girl to be pretty! Soap is usually the one to always fuck you, unfortunately. Being a classic werewolf, he is too fucking horny for his own good, always stuck in a knot with you, always mating and hoping that you will give birth to healthy pups, even though he is somewhat sad they are mostly taken away for the training needs( his pack mentality is strong, so if you really really really want at least some of your children to stay with you, you should beg Soap to allow you to see them occasionally - he would gladly steal the pups back to base, but it would mean you won't give him as much attention(

@ceilidho mostly inspired me for this, but werebear!Price is literally perfect and I won't stand for otherwise. He is big, burly, with a soft tummy and warm hands that would easily push you down, ass up in the air because you were a naughty little incubator and whined too much about Soap and Gaz being too rough( he knows your limits, and also knows that they are spoiling you too much! You need some discipline and your bear captain is gladly providing you with spanks that make your ass raw, with his teeth and a dick that takes away your ability to walk at least for a few days( he is older than every other member of the pack, and he won't really bother you too much with sex - he knows you're tired, especially if you're pregnant, and he enjoys slow cockwarming sessions and just laying in the nest with you, false hybernating on your swollen, milk-filled breasts.

Ghost is...complicated. You don't even know what type of shifter he is at first, he is too fucking secretive to even talk about it. Only after a few involuntary breakdowns, could you catch a glimpse of his shadowy form - whatever animal-type monster he was, staid in the past. He is all shadows now, dark and glossy with smoke tendrils that help him handle you in place every time you become too squirmy. You were so convinced Simon hated you at first, just a dumb human who disrupts the balance of their pack, but your fears were proven wrong once you were pressed against a wall, thick dark tendrils squeezing in and out of your pussy. Ghost is the only one who can't breed you, and it only makes him more protective whenever you're pregnant.

[feasibilities]

Love & Hate | Thomas Shelby x Reader

Synopsis: Thomas' declining mental state pushes his wife over the edge.

Warnings: Alcoholism, Separation, Emotional Abuse, PTSD, Pregnancy

Author's Note: I was so obsessed with the scene of Thomas confronting the nuns that I wrote this. Enjoy!

Dear Thomas,

I don’t think this marriage will last any longer. I don’t recognize you anymore. You are never home—physically or mentally. All of your burdens fall on my shoulders and I can’t carry them anymore. I love you with my entire being and I hope that you’re able to heal.

Thomas charged into the bedroom you two shared with the letter you wrote him clenched in his gloved fist. You kept your back turned to him and hastily closed your suitcases. You were filled with a sense of dread as you were supposed to be gone before he returned.

“What the fuck is this?” He asked, fury brimming under the surface. His eyes were burning holes in the back of your head. A deep exhale left him before he snapped at your disregard. 

“Look at me!” He bellowed, making you flinch. You turned to face him. His anguished eyes could’ve changed your mind but you had to stand firm in your decision. 

“I can’t deal with this anymore, Tom. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you the news in-person.” You said apologetically, taking off your wedding ring. You heard the rumple of his leather gloves as he clenched his fists tighter. You placed it on the mantle of the fireplace. Gathering your belongings, you walked past him and began to walk downstairs. In an act of desperation, he followed and took one of your suitcases. He handed it to Frances and ordered her to unpack it. You wordlessly retrieved the bag and left. A roaring “Fuck!” came from the home once you shut the door. 

Thomas drank himself half to death in his office. Frances made up as many reasons as she could to enter without his permission. She eventually got him to stop drinking with false promises of your return. 

—

Christmas was near and Arrow House was beautifully decorated for the occasion. Thomas invited family and friends but the absence of his wife was still a sore spot. Thanks to Charlie Strong, he found out that you were back at your parent’s estate. Despite his criminal activities, your parents were disappointed at the separation as they had never seen you happier. He decided to give you a call. Fortunately, he still knew the number by heart. 

“Hello?” You answered in a singsong tone. A sense of relief washed over him at the sound of your voice. 

“It’s Thomas.” He clarified. 

“Oh, hi. It’s nice to hear from you.” You said softly. 

“Yeah, I just wanted to invite you to Christmas dinner. I know we’ve separated but a seat at the table is always open for you.” He confessed, clearing his throat to prevent any tremors in his voice. The line was silent for a moment that felt like an eternity to him.

“What time should I arrive?” You asked. 

“6 in the evening would be nice.” He replied. A rare smile crept across his face. 

“Great, see you then, Tom. Goodnight.” You said, ending the call. He sat on the couch and toyed with your wedding ring. 

On Christmas morning, Frances was surprised to see Thomas in a particularly gleeful mood. She suspected that he got in contact with you but kept her opinions to herself. She grew annoyed by his insistence on perfection as he was never this obsessive since the wedding. The clock struck 6 o’clock and Thomas paced around the dining room until the doorbell rang. He opened the door to see his beloved. He hurriedly invited you in and sat your presents under the tree. 

“There’s no one here, Tom. Did I miss dinner?” You asked after seeing the empty dining table. 

“No, I told you to come an hour earlier so we could chat.” He said sheepishly. You shot him a fiery glare before he led you to the study. He was too busy admiring your figure to begin any conversation. 

“What did you want to talk about?” You said firmly, tapping his leg to get his attention. 

“I was hoping you would consider moving back in. I’ve had a lot of time to think about these past few months and I realized what I lost.” He said.

“That’s wonderful, Tom, but that can’t happen unless you’ve made some substantial changes in your life. I don’t think that could happen in the little time we’ve been apart. We’ve been together for nearly 10 years now.” You countered. 

“I haven’t changed completely but I’m working on it.” He argued, looking at the floor. 

“You’ve been working on it since you came home from the war. Whatever ‘work’ you’re doing is not enough. I’m not going to sit around and watch you kill yourself. I won’t be an emotional punching bag either.” You objected, feeling your heart break all over again. Your words, as true as they were, were like bullets tearing through his body. He searched for an escape.

“Let’s go meet the other guests, eh?” He said flippantly, walking to the hall.

“Not until we finish the conversation you started.” You hissed. The harshness of your tone caught him off guard—he returned and sat in a nearby chair. 

“I will move back in under these conditions: You see a doctor on a regular basis, you stop drinking so much, and you make time for us as husband and wife. This is the last time, Thomas, and I mean it.” You attested, standing over him. He silently accepted your terms and retrieved your wedding ring from his pocket. 

“Mrs. Shelby, will you do me the great honor of moving in with me again?” He asked, sliding the band on your finger. You leaned down and gave him a lingering kiss. His hands naturally came to rest on your hips. That familiar flame was reignited until you realized you had to put them out until the party was over. 

“We can meet the guests now.” You quipped, walking out of the study. 

The worries of Thomas’ friends and family were eased when they saw you two in jubilation once more. It didn’t seem like a facade like party that occurred the night before your departure. The issues in your marriage weren’t magically fixed but your love allowed you to work on them together. 

—

The bed shook wildly as Thomas thrusted into you. You raked your nails down his back as you panted in his ear. He was so intoxicated with pleasure that his praises were completely unintelligible. Your walls spasmed around his dick as his thrusts sped up. Your soft whimpers progressed to unbridled screams of passion. A loud groan left him as he finished inside of you. The both of you kissed lovingly before he laid next to you. You traced the tattoo on his chest as he closed his eyes. 

“What if we had a baby?” You asked. His eyebrows furrowed before his eyes flickered open.

“The doctor said we couldn’t.” He replied, examining you closely. 

“I’m late, Thomas. Incredibly late.” You said blatantly, making eye contact. 

“Is that why you were drinking that awful sparkling cider?” He teased. 

“Mhm.” You hummed, putting his hand on your stomach. 

“It’ll be a boy then.” He proclaimed. 

“God, no. I can’t handle any more Shelby boys. All of you are batshit.” You joked. 

[evilcokito]

@ceruleancattail Cater Serial Killer Au. This is revenge, I hope it's not too much. Really hope so, I'm sorry if it's too much!

Tw: Yandere, Blood / gore, Knife, Murder / Death, Cater, suggestive, Cater again.

Had to do it here because can't hide [ keep reading ] sending asks, so well. I'm bad at writing, ignore the errors IT WAS GOOGLE TRANSLATOR.

Dangerous animals must be caged. Unfortunately for you a cage is a prison and at other times, a fortress. Cater knows that too well.

With that conscience stained red, try to constantly ignore the reality that your eyes manage to appreciate: Nothing motivates and puts Cater in a good mood, than playing with his prey. Not even animals, no matter how wild they are with that level of cruelty.

Every time someone died by your hands, that despicable… boyfriend… made fun of his prey. Not at all chosen at random, that was YOUR style. Absolutely all of Cater's victims are his acquaintances from some point. And if there is something that this cunning fox loves, it is when people beg for mercy. Using the word "sadistic" is absolutely foolish now. Who deserves Cater's mercy and who doesn't? Did you think he would be different with you?

-What are you thinking? Cater asked at the very moment he took your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours and starting to kiss your wrist.

-… nothing.

Your eyes were lost on the body in front of you, a girlfriend? She is… was absolutely gorgeous. Her wide and beautiful dress, very fashionable. So beautiful that even stained with carmin and destroyed stomach by your knife, looked good. Her soft, blonde hair was well combed. Perfect makeup, so perfect that it wasn't noticeable. Unfortunately, your sad victim died by drowning, happens when you stab in the lung, that's why her lipgloss were stained with blood and saliva. Cater, Cater… this is definitely your "type". Natural beauties, redundancy, are in fashion today.

-She was a horrible person anyway.

-…a horrible person?

Cater is a guy with tender habits, he always repeats the same thing after you murder someone. Your voice broke off when he began to kiss your neck and anticipating your movements, brought you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. With a giggle and a mischievous look from those green eyes, the kisses began to go down your neck, reaching your collarbone. Each kiss are more tender and sweet than the last, addictive. Your legs trembled and you succumbed to his arms with each sigh. That gingerhead is annoyingly good at this.

-Hehe~. What will be the limit today? ~mmhh???

His hand on your hip began to slowly rise towards your waist, lifting your shirt a little along the way. Didn't stop there, he continued to rise through the skin, looking for-

SLAP!

There it was, the limit. You stopped Cater with a slap of such magnitude that his mouth began to bleed. After a motionless moment and a painful gasp, he watched you intently with his eyes wide open.

-Did the same to her too?

-Everyone. But she and the others was boring. They were an accessory. He wiped his mouth by lifting his shirt. Don't let him distract you. Don't lose that esmerald eyes.

-...Jealous?. He took your hands and holding them firmly, cornered you against the wall.

-I'm sorry~~ but you started it. It hurt me a lot. Just two last kiss, kay?~♡ He kissed ternderly your cheek, but quickly lowered your sleeve and bit your shoulder. A choked gasp escaped from your lips. Cater watched your every move closely, smiling. He licked that wound slowly, until, sank his finger into it. This time you couldn't contain your tears.

Cater hated cages. For animals, no matter how wild they are, should be free. Condemn you to be in one just like him…

Forcing you to take a false step, look for each of your limits, observe your movements, he is addicted to it. And when he finds it: giving you a light punishment, leaving marks on you. For stubborn and arrogant being, you gave him an excuse to stop being that tender and boring boyfriend that everyone wants. No one could resist him, and when you contrasted with that, drove him totally crazy and obsessive. One day you'll beg him to continue, right? ~~♡ Incredibly, he stops every one of his impulses with you, keep that in mind.

You'll have to be brave, who knows if you'll suffer the same fate as the corpse scattered on the floor, guts outside, if you ask him. Unfortunately, Cater lacked that tenderness with you in the end. Will it be okay if it hurts just a little? You'll continue breathing for him despite this, right?.

My victim?

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Teeth

Part 12

Masterlist

Warnings: nothing, not a damn thing 🤭

There's a near painful casualness to the joyful way you greet him in the morning.

Standing by his car, arms crossed, his impassive expression seems to lighten when he catches sight of you leaving your apartment.

"Hey Billy!" You say, noting the subtle way his hands flex when he reaches for your door, opening it for you.

He says your name in return, a low sound, that goes straight down to your toes and back up before stopping in your chest.

You smile, thanking him as you duck into the passenger seat of his car, automatically pulling on your seatbelt.

You're vibrating with excitement, maybe too much, the knowledge that he touched himself while watching you gives you a power you didn't know you craved until now.

"I hope your night wasn't too bad." You knowingly tease, watching him swallow as he begins driving.

"It was actually pretty decent," he murmurs, eyes fixed forward, focused on the road, "Though, one of my neighbors gave me quite an eyeful."

You already have your response locked and loaded.

"Oh no," you murmur with false sympathy, "Must have been quite a shock."

"It was."

You hum, nodding your head.

"I guess, that's kind of a consequence of having neighbors." You turn to eye him, "Sometimes you just see things."

He spares you a glance, your expression calm and polite, as if you didn't touch yourself with your curtains open for him to see last night.

"Maybe you're right." He concedes.

"Of course I am."

He smiles.

.

"How have you two not fucked yet." Dani says, deep in thought.

"I don't knooooow." You whine, flopping onto your couch with a huff.

After thinking for a moment, you speak.

"Maybe he just doesn't like me." Your voice is muffled in the couch but she hears you anyway.

"We're not looking at this the right way." Dani suddenly says, which makes you raise your head curiously.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when he first offered you the job, didn't you specifically say that you wouldn't take the job if he wanted to fuck you?"

You groan, burying your head back into your couch.

Was this what it had come to? Your own words being thrown back at you?

"Yes." You answer.

"So what if this is just him doing what you asked."

You let out another frustrated sound.

"You're telling me that I'm the reason I'm not getting fucked senseless right now?"

"...Yes?" Dani says, a little chuckle escaping her when she sees you wriggle angrily on the couch.

"What do I doooooo." You fake cry, raising your head to give Dani your best sad face.

She leans forward, a brightness in her eyes, that gets your undivided attention.

"Here are your options, one, turn up the heat, flirt with him, wear prettier clothes, make him notice you. Option two, get him jealous, turn your attention on someone else and then see if he tries harder to keep you close. Lastly," She leans back, steeples her fingers like the mastermind she is, "forget about him and maybe actually move on because there is a possibility that he's just not that into you."

You groan in frustration.

You didn't like any of those options, wearing nicer things meant being noticed by not only Billy, but other people too. Making him jealous implied that you had to be willing to get to know another person, which you were not.

And forgetting about him? Is probably what you should have done from the start.

"Can't I just parade naked in front of my windows for the foreseeable future?" You ask, watching as Dani's focused expression morphs into a grin.

"You could, but I doubt it would get you fucked."

You swallow.

"What makes you say that?"

"Because you would have been fucked by now."

Oh, how you hated when she was right.

.

"I overslept I'm so sorry." Is what you say to Billy when he sees you, rushing out of your aparment building. You do look slightly disheveled, as if you didn't have time to smooth your look into perfection like you usually do.

He smiles, opening his car door for you as usual, and listening to the breathless way you thank him.

When he gets into the car, he can still hear your overzealous breathing.

"You're alright," he tries to reassure you, "It's okay to be a few minutes late."

"Sorry, I just- I'm sorry if you were waiting long."

"It's okay, no need to apologize." He finishes, turning on his indicator so he can pull out onto the street.

"Do you mind- is it okay if I finish doing my makeup?" You ask, he can hear the worry still laced in your voice.

"Yes, of course," he says, keeping his voice even, trying to soothe you.

You breathe another word of thanks before pulling out your mascara from your bag.

Billy fights the urge to watch, with rapt facination. He finds the idea of it intriguing. He's curious to see your little routine, wonders how much it would differ from his own.

He quietly loves the domesticity of it all, him driving to work while you feel comfortable enough around him to apply your makeup.

At a traffic light, he can't resist turning to look at you.

You glance back, touching up your mascara before closing it.

"What?" You ask, rummaging in your bag for something else.

You're beautiful, he wants to say, with and without makeup.

Out loud he says,

"I'm just fascinated by the process."

You smile at him.

His heart stops when you pull out a tube of red lipstick.

It's not just red, red is an understatement. It's crimson, it's burgundy, it's the colour of spilt blood on fresh snow.

He swallows as you swipe the wand over the pout of your lips.

When someone blares their horn, he turns his head back to the road, driving off when he realises the lights have turned green.

He tries not to look, worries he might get lost in it.

The predator stirs within him, demanding he stop torturing them both.

He takes a shuddering breath.

"Are you okay?"

He's unable to respond, eyes fixed on the road.

The beast thinks about how the shade would look smeared across your mouth.

"Billy?" You say, concern heavy in your voice.

He sighs.

"I'm fine."

He's not.

.

It's a fast drive to work, and he avoids looking at you the rest of the way there.

When he parks, and you get out, he's already walking away from you, heading in the direction of the basement security booth, directly opposite from the elevators.

"See you this evening." Is all he says, not even sparing you a glance back.

You huff.

.

An emergency conference meeting puts you in his path once more.

There's an hour till lunch, and Billy tries not to fidget as he waits patiently for you and the rest of his team to show up.

He hears you laughing with someone outside as you draw nearer to the meeting room and his mood sours further.

When he sees you, he almost wants to fucking collapse.

Your mouth draws his attention, the vibrant shade catches his eye, makes his stomach flip.

You smile at him, and he nods evenly in return, looking down at his phone, trying to distract himself from staring at you.

Your mouth is divine, he wants to lean in, press his mouth to yours, feel the desire build inside of him until it has nowhere to go but out. He wants to rub his nose against yours, he wants your lipstick smeared across his cheeks, his jaw, his neck, his chest, his cock-

"Mister Russo?"

He doesn't startle, simply moves his eyes to stare firmly at the man that dared interrupt him from his thoughts of you.

The man in question swallows.

"What do you think?"

He sucks in a deep breath.

Turning to look at you, you meet his gaze head on.

God, that's a lot of fire.

"I'm assuming you can justify your actions?" Billy says to you.

"Of course I can." You say evenly, confident, like you know exactly what you're doing and everyone else is just in the way.

"Well?"

The corner of your lip twitches, you were just playing with everyone in the room, weren't you?

You turn to look at Phil, his IT managing director.

"If I told you what I was going to do, you would have taken action to stop me. Even indirectly, sometimes just the knowledge of a potential security breach would put you on edge, which puts your team on edge. The best attack is one done unexpectedly."

Phil shakes his head.

"You're the person designing the system, you work here, of course you're going to understand how to get around our protocols."

You pause for a moment, looking right at Phil, who, to Billy's credit, doesn't show any outward expression, despite the scent of intimidation rolling off of him.

You're playing with him, and you look so much like a predator in this moment that Billy feels his heart swell.

"It sounds to me, that you're making the assumption that security breaches are only ever going to come from people who lack the skills to beat the system. And while, sure, majority may not have the skill, we need to consider the possibility that one day, someone might."

Phil is unable to form a rebuttal, and after a minute he mutters.

"Someone should at least know when you plan to rip into the same system you design."

You nod, clicking your pen and pulling out your notepad to write something down.

"Noted. I'll send Mr. Russo a heads up."

Phil turns to look at him, and Billy feels the need to placate both parties.

"Not to worry, I understand the systems are still being set up and understood. Hopefully, we come out of this stronger."

He nods at both of you, feels a little bit more proud of what he's building.

"Have a good lunch." Phil bids, before walking out of the conference room.

You reel on him as soon as the door clicks shut, eyes full of passion that it startles him.

"Holy fucking shit Billy I just came up with the best fucking idea."

He stares at your animated form for a second, before he can't contain his humour, tilting his head back and laughing.

"There's no time for laughing, Russo! Get it together- look-" You move across to his side of the table, right into his space and drops your little notepad into the spot in front of him.

He squints, but your passionate handwriting makes zero sense.

"Did you make a note to tell me before you try to break into my system?"

He looks at you, your expression moves from one of excitement to confusion.

"What? No- fuck that- I mean, respectfully, sure I'll warn you but-" You glance down at the notepad, while he continues to just look at you.

"I've been thinking about it for a while, what if someone really good tries to hack the system? Better than me I mean."

Billy is seriously doubting at this point that there is anyone better than you.

"If we make it look like it's reasonably difficult, someone trying to get access won't question it. Someone smarter, will just think that we lack the brain power for a sophisticated system."

His eyes draw to your mouth, he's trying hard to focus but some of his essential blood supply is currently making his cock swell.

"So you're suggesting, we offer a fake room full of information to hide the real room?"

"Yesssss," You hiss happily, looking down before tapping your pen to your mouth.

The universe has no mercy for him, he watches the pen smudge your lipstick.

It's beyond him, he can't stop himself, his hands reach up to cup either side of your face.

You make a little sound of surprise, being distracted from your complicated thought processes, suddenly focused on him.

Your eyes are wide, and fixed right on him. He takes pleasure in that, wants your focus on him, and him alone.

.

His hands are warm, as usual, holding your face gently as he looks at you.

Was this it? Was he going to kiss you?

He sighs, takes a step closer so that your bodies are right against each others.

Your stomach flips, you almost want to beg.

"This colour is beautiful on you." He murmurs finally, his thumb reaching out to swipe gently at the edge of your bottom lip.

Your breath catches, you think about taking his thumb into your mouth.

Your brain stalls as you stare at him.

He tilts his head, smiles, deep in thought.

"What do we say?"

"What?"

"When someone gives a compliment, what do we say?"

"Th- thank you." You stutter out.

Ever patient, he nods.

"Good girl."

Your mouth parts in shock.

He pulls his hands away, taking a step back.

"Enjoy your lunch." He bids, before leaving you alone in the conference room with parted lips and damp underwear.

.

You lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling, fingers curled around your necklace, deep in thought.

You wonder who the panther is, wondering if you knew them at all.

You try to turn it over in your head but there's too many things you don't know, and not enough information.

You don't even know where to start looking for this information, searches online giving no real help beyond the realm of fantasy.

But this wasn't fantasy anymore, shapeshifters were real, a fact.

It made the world that much more dangerous.

Or maybe not, considering that most of your troubles had come from human roots anyway.

You sigh, rolling over, and sucking in a deep breath when you come face to face with the panther.

You raise your head, looking around.

Had you fallen asleep?

The panther hums to get your attention, leaning in until the top of his head brushes your cheek.

"Hey kitty." You greet softly, hearing the rough purring start up as the panther settles its body next to yours.

You sigh softly, pressing your face into his fur, giving his ear a little kiss, and feeling it flick gently.

His tail smacks against your knee as it waves in a haphazard direction.

You smile, tossing an arm over his back, sighing in bliss when you can almost feel the softness of his fur like he's really here with you.

You lay like that for a bit, on your side, curled against the panther when suddenly a human hand reaches for you.

It grips your jaw, turns your head up and away from the panther.

Billy, with warm fingers and a gentle smile, doesn't hesitate to lay his mouth across yours.

You groan, pressing your head up and firmer against his mouth, desperate for a taste of him.

He pulls back for a moment, before giving you another quick kiss and he's gone, leaving you tucked against the panther for the rest of the night.

You wake up in the morning, curled around a pile of your pillows, disoriented, looking around for your panther before the realisation hits you, that you'd only been dreaming.

.

.

.

[joesanrio]

Hey girl, can I have a Jey uso fic. Like you’re Paul’s daughter and like completely off limits. But he ignores that. It doesn’t have to be exactly like that, that was just the vibe. Lots of smut tho. Only if you’re comfortable. Thank you boo

Hey!!! Omg- I love this bcs I’ve been wanting to write abt Jey for a good while!! 🩷 I hope I didn’t disappoint.

Nobody will know | J.U

Summary: Being the daughter of Paul Heyman comes with its perks, but everyone knows that despite their attraction to you they could never have you…except him.

Pairings: Jey Uso x fem!reader || non-established relationship

Warnings: Secret relationship, teasing, closet!smut, nipple play, oral (m. recieves), asskink!jey, face grabbing, dom!jey, sub!reader, multiple orgasms, p in v (unprotected), creampies, L bombs, etc.

Word count: 2012

Ratings: Smut | 18+

———————————————————

“What’s up little miss untouchable?” Jey asked as he entered the locker room, as much as I pretended to hate the nickname, it always sounded so good coming from him. I smile before rolling my eyes as he sat down on the couch beside me, “I’m fine. Just got done filming.” I say avoiding his gaze. He doesn’t speak, instead he stares at me without even caring about how many people are in the room waiting for his acknowledgement. “You’re riding with me back to the hotel, right?” His voice entering my ears in a low whisper, I nod as he pulls away to talk to the other guys in the room.

Everyone knew that due to my dad’s overbearing presence that I was off-limits, barely getting to hang out with the other stars especially the male ones. Jey was different though; he and my father had this false sense of trust with each other which made him the only person who could even get a hug from me. But as much as my dad is protective, he’s also naïve to what goes on around him.  

“What’s going on with you and Jey?” Natalya asked as I walked down the hall, my neck whipped back quickly as she startled me, “Oh my gosh Nattie! Nothing.” I gasp as her eyebrow rises with an unbelievable expression. “Nothing; is like a simple ‘Hey’ not a nickname and whispering in ear.” She says looking me up and down as I roll my eyes. “Okay! Maybe a little something but you know how my dad is… so it’s always nothing.” I say giving her a stern look as my dad walks down the hall with Roman. “Mm’kay whatever you say.” She turns back around when she spots my father making his way towards us, giving me a quick hug and leaving.

---

“You look gorgeous.” His voice muffled into my neck before sucking a small hickies onto my throat, my head falls back against the wall before my arms wrap around his shoulders. Pulling him closer his sultry breath falls onto my collarbones once his now kisses go farther down, placing a gentle kiss above my cleavage as his hands hold my waist tightly. “S’good.” I moan out softly while his lips are now forming into a smirk on my soft skin, my hands grabbing the hair on the nape of his neck to pull him up. Jey’s lips always fit perfect with mine, the taste of his cherry ChapStick now on my plump lips once his teeth pull softly at my bottom lip.

A loud knock on the door causes us to separate, “I’m on a call, give me a sec.” Jey calls out as his thumb rubs my smeared gloss from the side of my mouth and pecks a quick kiss onto my lips. “My bad, I’ll come back later then.” I hear Kevin from the other side of the door before his footsteps are heard leaving from the door and down the hall. Looking Jey up and down as his print is now visible in his sweats, “We got to go.” I say as fix his hair that’s ruffled up from my grasp.

Leaving the room, the cool air hits my warmed body. “Damn.” Jey says as he sees me in the new lighting while we walk to the parking lot to leave, looking over at him confused he says nothing but almost hits the wall as he admires my face. “Stop being silly and let’s go.” I say as his gaze leaves my eyes to fall onto my now wet and plumped lips, “Want to go back?” He stops and juts his head back towards the hallway. “Jey! Cut it out.” I giggle as he continues walking and opens the door that leads outside.

“So nice.” I say as we walked up onto his rental car, he pops the trunk before putting his luggage in first. He smiles before grabbing my suitcase and placing it in the back, I walk to the passenger door as he unlocks the car, and we get in. “Oh my gosh. It’s so pretty!” I exclaim as I admire the interior, but Jey’s too busy admiring me. “You’re pretty.” He smirks as I look at him unamused while he starts the car.

I can’t help but smile as we finally leave the arena, Jey takes no time as his hand is now resting on my thigh. I stare down at his huge hand before it moves further between my thighs, popping his hand he pulls it back to rest above. “You need to focus on driving.” I scold as his fingers rub little shapes onto my bare leg, “I got this.” He says as he gives me a quick look before focusing back on the road.

---

Jey’s lips fall onto mine as his kisses make my skin burn in lust, his large hands kneed into my waist as he hovers above me. My arms immediately wrapping around his shoulders to pull him down further on my body, his hips grinding eagerly into mine. “More.” I muffle into his now plumped lips, his eyes opening to look at my needy expression. He pulls away from the kiss to remove his shirt, which I follow suit as my red lace bra is on display. Jey bites his lips as his hand cups one of my breasts and his thumb rubbing over my nipple, I moan out softly at his delicate touch.

“I thought you didn’t like lace?” He questions as he lays back in between my thighs to get closer to my breast, “I never said that.” I gasp as his tongue licks down from my collarbone to my sternum. His smirk felt along my chest, as he pulled my bra to the side to suck onto my hardened nipple. Jey’s other hand coming up to play with the other, “Fuck...” I moaned out as his teeth pulled at sensitive bud. His tongue not far behind to soothe the area, he then switches to the other side.

My hands wanting to grab onto something as Jey pleases me, I pull his face up from my chest to kiss him. “You’re so sensitive.” Jey’s lips muffle against mine as I moan into the kiss while my hands now fall onto his biceps. His hips rocking against my core, making my back arch into his hold when his hand leaves from my breast to my waist. “Just fuck me already.” I whine before biting onto his bottom lip, causing a quick slap to make contact with my thigh.

“Fine, but you gotta do all the work since you have no patience.” He said pulling away from the kiss and leaning back onto his knees. A pout forming on my lips as I lift my hips to remove my shorts that I’ve yet to take off, “Fix your face.” Jey says grabbing my chin roughly, making the wet patch on my matching red panties darker. He lets go of my chin before pulling at the strings of his sweats, looking up at him as he pulls his large cock from the restraints of his pants.

We repositioned ourselves, Jey laid back on the pillows with his hands behind his head, his cock standing up as his tip glistens in the dim light. In between his legs, I lean forwards and I wrap my hands around the base of his large cock. Drooling at the sight of the precum leaking from his tip and the small twitches of his cock when I run my finger over the slit. He groans deeply as my lips wrap around the tip, the salty taste of the precum collecting on my tongue as he throws his head back in a bliss. “You’re so big.” I moan before licking from the bottom of the base to the top of his tip, his hands moving from behind his head to fist my hair into a ponytail.

“Put in your mouth baby.” He moans as I relax my jaw to take as much of him into my mouth as possible while I use my hands for the rest. His hips rolling up into my mouth before his tip pushes into my throat, his hips faltering at the tightness. “You like that?” I moan as I pull away from his cock as his eyes close and he nods. “Oh! You’re doing so good!” He praises me as I suck on his tip, his hands pushing my head further down his cock. Feeling his twitch in my mouth, his hips thrusting faster, I hollow my cheeks as he lets out a loud moan.

“Take it Baby, oh fuck- Yeah Just take it.” He moans as he holds my head down while his cum coats the back of my throat. His hands falling from my hair as his head is thrown back onto the pillows with his eyes closed, pulling away from him slowly I swallow the cum. “Swallowed it?” He says deeply as his eyes open for a slight moment when I stick my tongue out for him. “Good girl. Now come ride me.” He speaks breathlessly, as I smile and crawl onto his lap.

Sitting on his lap, the feeling of his warm, wet cock in between my folds as I roll my hips slowly on Jey’s. Moaning out quietly as my damp panties add to the pressure of my clit, “Such a cock slut.” He groans as his hands hold onto my waist. I bite my lip as I grind harder against him, before lifting my hips to pull my panties to the side. Jey’s eyes immediately falling to my glistening folds as the wet sounds of our arousal fills the room, “I love it so much.” I moan before grabbing Jey’s cock to insert into my entrance slowly.

Filling me up as I slide down his cock, my hands pressed against his tattooed chest. “Shit, your pussy is so tight.” He moans as I bottom out onto his cock, “Only for you.” I gasp breathlessly as I wait to adjust to his size. His hands holding on my waist and rubbing as I begin to bounce, “There you go, look at you.” Jey moans as his eyes look up into mine. I toss my head back as my breast bounce in front of me, the soft sounds of my ass slapping back down onto his hips filled the room. Leaning down to capture his lips, his hands moving into the curve of my back.

“You smell amazing.” He smiles on my lips before his tongue enters my mouth once he places small smacks on my ass. Gleaming at his compliment, riding him faster, “You’re always so sweet to me.” I say as kiss his neck. His breathy moans leaving his mouth as I begin to suck a hickey on his neck, pulling away to admire the darkening bruise. His hands now helping me bounce on him, “Oh- I’m gonna cum!” I squeal as Jey’s hips drill up into my core.

His hip randomly stops, making me whine out in disappointment. “You’re going to cum- cut it out.” He flips us over, his cock running in between my folds before enters back in my entrance. Almost cumming immediately, he pounds into me mercifully, “S’good!” I moan out as Jey’s hand grabs my face gently to have me look at him.

“So desperate.” He smirks as I clench onto his cock, “Oh you’re going to cum? Want to cum on my cock.” Jey squishes my face as my eyes are fluttering shut, his thrust never faltering as I cream onto his cock with a shaking orgasm.

“Damn girl.” He smirks before placing a rough kiss onto my lips, he holds my hips down as he fills my core up with his warm cum. “I love you.” I gasp as his fingers find their way to my clit and rubbing small circles, “I love you more baby.” He smiles as we calm down from our intense orgasms.

[beastszai]

✦ Dazai and Chuuya childhood headcanons (1/2) ✦

part 2

♫ Tell Me What To Swallow - Crystal Castles

✧ warnings : mentions of s*icide, death, depression, mental health struggles, etc.・loss of loved one・mommy and/or daddy issues・ooc (???)

✧ a/n : 15 dazai, tdipud dazai and dark era dazai are all my personal Roman Empire it hurts… its hurts so much hes just a kid </3

w/c : 431

!!! these are just personal headcanons and are not accurate to the canon story !!!

✦ Dazai :

He was an only child. As a semi-only child, I can tell. Trust me.

And like the real Dazai Osamu, he was raised in a highly respected and powerful household—though I headcanon Dazai to have been born in a noble family

BIG mama’s boy. Was very clingy to his mom

One of the reasons he grew super clingy to his mom was because of his father being mostly absent (again, like the real Dazai Osamu)

He was in Dazai’s life, but he was rather…grayish, transparent in his life; not in the picture, busy with work blahblahblah

Dazai did try to create some sort of father-son bond with his father—but he just gave up after a while, noticing that his dad didn’t show interest in putting effort into building a bond with him the way Dazai did

Dazai would/did try to make conversation about his interests in false hopes of his father making time for him

But his dad would just brush him off with comments like “that’s nice, but I’m a bit busy right now. Why don’t you go and tell your mom the rest?”

After a while Dazai even grew to hate his dad… no specific reason given. Perhaps how he never wanted to be a true father to him—his own son.

So, yeah. Big mama’s boy. Would give his mom random hugs, come back from their garden with some of the prettiest flowers picked and in his hand for his mom (along with his clothes covered in mf dirt)

And again, like the real Dazai Osamu, his mother was ill.

I personally like to think that his mom wasn’t the best mentally. Maybe because of her relationship with her husband and depression…

But she was always full of love for Dazai, pampered him, spoiled him and treated him with so much care that you’d think of Dazai as someone fragile and easily breakable.

Always defended Dazai with her life, seriously

He was a golden child and I will die on this hill

Dazai was perfect in everything he did, but he only did things he or his mother liked.

Couldn't care less about others or whether he would hurt their feelings (unless it would upset his mom and his mom only obviously)

And the reason he could no longer see the point in life or living at such a young age (+his ‘obsession’ with s*icide and death)

Was because of his own mother taking her life and Dazai having to witness it… The only person he held so dear…

…these are my headcanons, at least </3…

[nathanbatemanfucker]

summary: sometimes the meddling of old men pays off.

pairing: f!reader x jake lockley

contents: pinning, internal angst, an old man meddling, fluff

wc: 1.8k

AN: before i even finished this, i felt like it deserved a part two so…be on the lookout! & thank you @juneknight for helping me figure this outtttt <333

part 2 | moonknight masterlist | requests are open

There’s a lot that Jake hates— frogs, black olives, the Chicago Cubs. But most of all, he hates having habitual customers. Familiarity with others is nothing he craves. There’s this false sense of intimacy that comes with making small talk and knowing another’s routine. It’s uncomfortable, it makes his skin crawl. He’s content with going unseen beyond his ability to taxi someone from point A to point B. At least, he doesn’t allow himself to think so.

Until he met old man Fletcher.

More accurately until he met her. If he’s being technical, he hasn’t met her yet, hasn’t even spoken a word to her. He doesn’t even know her name. She’s the woman at the farmer’s market that Jake takes Fletcher to every Saturday morning. He’s never been more grateful for a smug old man and his routine.

“Fancy meeting you here again. And you’re on time,” The old man quips, looking down at his watch in feigned disbelief.

Jake gives Fletcher an exasperated look as he opens the passenger door, “I’m never late.”

Every Saturday Jake arrives at the old man’s apartment at 8 a.m. on the dot, not a moment sooner, nor a moment later. He helps the frail man into the back of his cab, and plays the oldies station that ensures neither of them will talk– instead they’ll hum along. It's something Jake doesn’t like to admit he enjoys— if anyone were to ask it is just Saturday. There is no fluttering heartbeat, no rehearsal of things to say if she dares speak to him, no fondness growing for the old man. He’s doing his job. That’s all.

The first time he ever saw her, his heart seemed to stop and then pick up, going so fast he thought it’d give out.

Dressed in overalls, her hair up and out of her face, her skin looking so soft even from a distance. She sets up her stall with ease, telling him that this is something she does often. This is her livelihood, he thought to himself. How solitary that must be, tending and keeping bees and flowers. Unless she has someone to help— a partner perhaps. Jake didn’t let himself think much further about that, he let himself get lost in the small probability of possibility.

Jake could see her kindness. It seemed as if everyone at the market stopped at her stall, even after she sold out of things. With bright eyes and animated hands, she spoke to everyone as if they were the most important person in the world. He couldn’t help but wonder if she would extend him the same courtesy.

The following Saturday, Jake woke early, staring at his work phone hoping that it would ring. That hope took root in him, blooming bigger each and every Saturday. Old man Fletcher called him like clockwork, until one morning he suggested he and Jake plan on this visit every Saturday. No, Jake didn’t like habitual customers but at that suggestion, he simply nodded, his mouth quirking up in one corner.

—

Today, like any other Saturday, he’s parked at Fletcher’s house. He takes the shortest route— a left onto Wicker, a right onto Olive and after the annoyingly long wait at a red light on Slater he’s pulling into the park’s lot.

When they arrive at the park, he parks his cab in the same spot under the largest oak tree in the park with the perfect view; her. He removes his jacket and cap before coming to sit on the hood of his car, trying to look busy and unnoticeable. In reality, for the first time in a long time, Jake just wants to be seen.

He wants to be seen by her.

Time stretches and squeezes in the most cruel way; the weekdays creep by slowly and when Saturday comes it flies, as if her presence is like some twisted time warp.

He knows that she must smell sweet— she sells candles and honey and flowers, she must always be bathed in their nectar. He has some idea since Fletcher has started to buy things from her— a jar of honey, beeswax candles, a bouquet or two. Whenever he helps the old man with his bags, he can’t help but inhale the soft scent of the things he’s bought.

Like most days, it’s a bouquet of daisies. Jake wonders if they’re her favorite flowers and that’s why she almost always has them.

As he helps Fletcher load his bags into the truck of the cab when the old man says, “You have to talk to her, y’know.”

He raises a brow at the older man, “What?”

Fletcher nods his head towards the stands, “The honey girl. If you wanna take her out you have to talk to her.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Really? She’s asked about you.”

“About me,” He repeats, turning the idea over and over in his head. “What did she say?”

“I thought you didn’t wanna take her out?” Fletcher asks, and Jake narrows his eyes at him, waiting for him to answer the question. “Alright, alright, settle down. She just asked your name, if you were my grandson or something.”

“What’d you tell her?”

“That you’re a nice young man that’s kind enough to bring me here every week. You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t ask for you to do me any favors.”

“You didn’t have to.”

On the drive home, all he can think about is how she knows his name. How he doesn’t know hers. How if he sticks to his plan he’ll never know it. That is something he’ll live with. Or so he thought.

She has other plans.

It’s the next Saturday and he’s sat on his cab as always when she starts to make her way through the crowd and across the field. Jake can’t help but look around, wondering if she’s walking to her car to fetch something or someone she knows has just arrived. But then she stops in front of him, fidgeting with the frilly strap of her sundress.

He watches with confusion— and amusement— as she squares her shoulders, taking a deep breath in before leading with a simple, “Hi.”

“Hi?” He says, mouth set into his habitual frown.

“You’re Jake.”

“I am?”

Her eyes widen with worry, almost comically so, and he can’t help but think about how precious she looks.

“Did Fletcher give me a fake name?” She asks worriedly, her eyes narrowing as she glances back towards the crowd to look for him.

“No, no. I’m Jake,” His face softens just a fraction, arms crossing against his chest.

She tells him her name and it fits, another piece of her falling into place. He isn’t sure why he hadn’t guessed it— it’s in her smile, the brightness of her eyes. He repeats it quietly, likes the way it sits on his tongue.

“Fletcher says you don’t like leaving your cab unattended or you’d walk around.”

His cab is his most important possession, not only his livelihood but also an object he holds near and dear— something that will never be able to judge him no matter what he does. The thought of something happening to his cab makes his blood boil and his heart sink into his stomach. But there’s more to it; walking around means more socialization than he already endures.

“I’m not…good with people.”

“So you decided to be a cab driver?”

He opens his mouth for some rebuttal but instead he chuckles at her teasing. When was the last time he laughed?

“Being good with people is difficult— tiring,” She admits softly.

His brow knits together, “You seem to do it just fine.”

“I sell things for my livelihood, there’s not much of a choice in it. But, I do enjoy people, they’re…fascinating. So unique. May I?” She points to the spot beside him.

Jake nods, and she comes to lean against his cab beside him. Though she keeps a respectful amount of distance, her delicate scent envelopes him and it’s sweeter than he could ever imagine.

“So you like driving?” She asks, glancing over at him.

Jake does like driving, it helps with that restless feeling inside of him. Being on the go, moving here and there, new scenery, new distractions, it quiets some of the noise. It gives him some control.

“Yes, it’s…relaxing.”

“Relaxing? It drives me insane. Everyone here drives like they’re in a high-speed chase after robbing a bank, there’s no regard for human life,” She huffs, her hands gesturing haphazardly as she vents.

His eyebrows raise in surprise at her strong feelings about driving, and her wild hand gestures pull a chuckle from his throat. “You can’t beat them, you have to join them.”

“I would rather avoid them altogether,” She grumbles, huffing again and he presses his lips together to keep himself from laughing again. “But, I didn’t come over here to complain about the driving culture of our city.”

“No?”

“No,” She says, laughing softly. “I know you’re very fond of your cab here, but usually after we close up, I go for a walk through this park.”

“A walk?”

“Yes, and I was wondering if you’d like to join me?”

“You want me to…go with you? On your walk?”

“Yes. You ask a lot of questions.”

“I— well I have to drive Mr. Fletcher home.”

“I can wait.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ll be just over there at my car,” She points to an old blue truck, it’s rusty and clearly on its last leg.

He’ll have to go on this walk with her now, even if it’s just to convince her to get rid of that goddamn death trap. The thought of her behind the wheel of that truck makes him shudder. He’ll offer to drive her anywhere she needs to go if it means she won't ever have to drive it again.

“Alright,” He says nervously, but the tightness in his chest dissipates slightly at the sight of her triumphant smile.

She leans over, bumping his elbow with her own, “Cool, I’ll see you then.”

“See you then,” He murmurs too softly for her to hear as he watches her stroll back to her stand.

When Fletcher makes it back to Jake’s cab, he wastes no time.

“I told you all you had to do was talk to her,” He says knowingly, slipping into the backseat.

Jake doesn't respond to the old man as he continues to load his bags into the truck with haste, but his mouth twitches, eyes drifting over to where she's back up her stand. She waves, and Jake waves back, head buzzing with the sweetness of her.

Yes, he supposes the old man was right.

moonknight taglist: @angelfxllcm, @honeybrowne, @ninebluehearts, @rmoonstoner, @hotchs-bitch, @later-gators12, @foreverinwanderlustt-blog, @aleeb, @julydaydream, @eyelessfaces, @marc-spectorr, @missdictatorme, @toracainz, @mccn-bcys , @campingwiththecharmings, @whatthefishh

[junnieverse]

LOVE IS EMBARRASSING ➳ K. SUNOO

➙ synopsis: you felt like a complete fool. you told everyone he was 'the one' but seeing sunoo with someone else hit you like a truck. it was humiliating having to deal with the fact that you so easily fell for him and yet he had his eyes set on someone else. you knew you had to let him go and yet you were still holding on onto false hope.

pairing: kim sunoo x fem!reader (but i'm sure it's gn imo as far as I am concerned)

genre: angst, unrequited love au

word count: 1.6k

warnings: not proofread, reader cries, reader self hating, just alot of hurt

a/n: here is the next update. I haven't been writing much due to my final exams but I hope you still like this though :)

— GUTS X ENHYPEN SERIES MASTERLIST !

"Are you still waiting on him to call you?" you hear your roommate ask as she catches you checking your phone every few minutes as you laid sprawled across your bed.

Not that you wanted to admit it but it was true.

It had been a week or so since Sunoo had last spoken to you and asked for you to give him some 'space'.

It was more than obvious this was just his way of trying to get you to back off but on the other hand you wanted to think of this in a more positive light and assume he was simply busy in his own personal life.

"No, not at all. Sunoo isn't ignoring me or anything. He just has an extremely busy and demanding life." you try to defend not only yourself but try to excuse Sunoo's poor behaviour.

For hours and days you waited for some sort of communication from Sunoo and got nothing, you really were a fool.

Kim Sunoo was a close friend of yours you had been introduced to at school when you both joined the drama club at your college and his bright smile and pretty eyes instantly won you over.

It didn't take long for you to realise that you were deeply infatuated by the guy and slowly but surely, you were also falling in love with him too.

"I think he's the one." you admit to your best friend sitting on the bleachers watching Sunoo play rugby with a group of his friends and you hear her burst out in laughter to your statement leaving you puzzled.

"What's so funny?" you ask her as she calms down from her laughing.

"You haven't even known Sunoo for that long and you are so sure that this is end game? He'll you haven't even went out on a single date with him." she tells you factually not believing what you had just said but you nod in response to her previous question admiring as he played down by the field.

"Yeah I do think it's end game. How long I've known him or the fact that we haven't gone on a date doesn't matter, what does is I can definitely see myself walking down the aisle with him having the picture perfect wedding." you say confidently taking a sip of your drink.

It may have sounded incredibly delusional but you could really see it, Sunoo was everything you wanted in a partner and you were smitten to the point of imagining the possibility of tying the knot with him.

As if having heard you talking about him, Sunoo lifts his head up meeting your gaze before flashing his bright smile and throwing a friendly wave at you as you shyly waved back.

He truly seemed perfect in your eyes at the beginning, but you also knew Sunoo was unattainable.

He had been in an on and off relationship with a past lover of his and even when they weren't together, you could tell Sunoo wasn't completely over his ex either.

Although you didn't want that to stop you from still pursuing him.

You thought building a friendship with Sunoo first was a step in the right direction to getting to know him and before you knew it, you were a close friend in his group of friends, a confidant to him.

He could always turn to you even with his own relationship problems because it was just a friendship basis between the two of you… right?

Because of this, you somehow put your feelings on the back burner always being at Sunoo's beck and call for the days he wanted to celebrate with a few drinks because he got back together with his ex girlfriend, to the rainy nights he cried into your shoulder because they had yet again broken up and she had a new boyfriend.

You thought that just maybe through everything you had been through always being by his side, that just maybe Sunoo would finally notice you as more than just a friend he can go to after a rough patch with his ex.

You had finally mustered up the courage to confess to him at a party his friend was hosting but soon backed out last minute out of fear of rejection although later that very same night after a few drinks, you ended up telling Sunoo you liked him to which he simply thought you were too drunk and talking nonsense.

It had been a few days since that happened and you were too embarrassed to face Sunoo but you knew you would have to clear the air and reconfirm your feelings in a sober state and talking to Sunoo was your biggest priority at that moment.

Making your way to the music room where you had been informed he was, you take a deep breath stepping closer to the door as you heard the faint sound of Sunoo's voice and another girl laughing.

Peeping through the slightly open door you notice Sunoo sitting by the piano with his now ex girlfriend as they played the instrument together.

Watching the two, your eyes start filling up with tears and suddenly his ex now has her hand on his face pulling Sunoo closer as they shared an intimate kiss.

You felt your legs weaken as a soft gasp escaped your lips witnessing the scene in front of you but also capturing the attention of the two. Before they could notice you, with the little strength you had left, you ran to the nearest bathroom, locking yourself in the stall as you were crying as your chest ached.

You felt incredibly embarrassed as of right now, but more than ever, you felt hurt.

This was all so stupid, YOU felt stupid too!

For months you tried to express yourself and your feelings so vulnerably but it felt like you were talking to a wall.

Maybe you just weren't good enough for him… that no matter how much you sacrificed of yourself you still wouldn't be pretty, smart or good enough for Sunoo.

You were losing so much of yourself for him but no matter how much you gave up… you would only end up coming back to him.

Yes, Sunoo knew about your feelings for him but despite having confessed (drunkenly), it felt like he was slowly starting to push you away.

You felt like a fool for trying so hard to win someone over knowing very well his heart belonged to someone else but you still held onto this little grain of hope that maybe he could come around and realise he had to move on (and preferably to you).

You had tried to move on yourself as well, anything to distract you from Sunoo.

From join other clubs to even getting a 'second-string' weirdo to try forget about the unrequited love but to no avail. Even blatantly avoiding him worked against your favour when he came looking for you.

"Hey, (Y/n)! I haven't seen you in awhile, I almost thought you were avoiding me." Sunoo stops you in the hallway as he jokingly adds on that last part expecting you to laugh along to which you hadn't.

"I've just been busy I guess… see you another time." you respond blandly not even looking up at him.

Before you could turn around and take your leave Sunoo gently grabbed on your wrist stopping you from leaving as he quickly detected something was wrong.

"Are you okay? You've never-" he asks before you cut him off reassuring him you were perfectly fine as you managed to get your hand out of his grip.

"Are you sure? I can-" he double checks trying to look into your eyes as you still avoided eye contact.

"Sunoo please… please just stop okay. Everything between us is so confusing and I'm the one left hurting. One minute you act all sweet and caring around me then the next you need 'space' away from me and don't talk to me for weeks. I feel like a measly second option to you and it's so embarrassing. You know how i feel about you and you still haven't expressed how you feel, you just go back to talking to me like nothing happened at all when there's been this big elephant in the room. I don't want to just keep being the person you go to when you cry over your ex, I wanted to be yours but clearly we aren't on the same page with that." you let out holding back your tears.

All of this had been weighing heavily on your chest and finally being able to tell him felt like you no longer carried any burdens.

Sunoo on the other hand stood quietly in front of you looking down seemingly taking in what you had said.

Everything was starting to hit him and the guilt was seeping in too.

All this time he knew how you felt about him but he only put up a wall and avoided confronting the situation because he knew he still was too invested in his relationship with his ex.

"I-" Sunoo croaks out but was stopped by your words.

"Maybe this time I need some space from you." you say coldly as you looked him straight in the eye before turning around and leaving to go to your next class.

Breaking the strong facade after being out of his sight, you wipe the tear running down your cheek before shortly looking back then continuing on your way.

Love was a lot of things.

It could be a crazy adventure, a sweet dream, a heartbreaking experience and an intense whirlwind for some.

But love sure was just downright embarrassing for you.

SERIES TAGLIST: @enhastolemyheart @jungwonscafe @firstclassjaylee @bahiyyihina

[hello-nichya-here]

No, the HIMYM finale is not secretly genius, stop lying to yourselves

The series finale of How I Met Your Mother, with Robin divorcing Barney and then getting together with Ted, a widower, years later could have been great. Yes, I'm serious.

Two people that were NOT soulmates and did NOT work out as couple when they were in their 20s met their true soulmates but life made them split up, and then they got a second chance of happiness with each other because, despite not being a perfect match they were at a point where they could make it work? Could totally work as a "bittersweet" ending. It's not "happily ever after" but it still finding happiness after the tragedy that stole their actual happily ever after, which is a valid, totally compelling story to tell.

But the writers completely destroyed any chance of it working as a satisfying story because the ending simply doesn't work as a twist and foreshadowing can't compete with consistent characterization.

The finale would only ever work if we had gotten to see the years of character development that were supposed to lead up to it. We'd have to SEE Barney and Robin's marriage deteriorating. We'd have too SEE Tracy's struggle with her illness and then Ted's years of grief. We'd have to SEE Ted and Robin slowly reconnecting and realizing that they've changed so much that can actually be a decent couple now - and more importantly, we have to see them CHANGE IN A WAY THAT MAKES THEM COMPATIBLE, NOT SIMPLY REVERSING THEM BACK TO HOW THEY WERE IN THE PILOT EPISODE BECAUSE THEY WERE ALREADY INCOMPATIBLE BACK THEN!

The show spent 98% of it's time building up to the "red-herring" of a Barney/Robin & Ted/Tracy endgame, with only the ocasional hints that this wasn't actually going to happen. It spent 9 fucking years, 9 seasons of 20+ episodes, building up to it this false endgame. Then suddenly the finale they try to give us SIXTEEN YEARS IN 40 MINUTES, expecting the audience the do the writer's jobs for them and fill in the blanks.

If they had given us the "fake ending" in the middle of the show, then spent the following seasons building up to the true ending, the finale wouldn't have been hated. Sure, no one would be surprised by the events in it, but anyone who didn't want Ted and Robin together would have bailed on the series a long time ago anyway.

And that's why they didn't do it. Because they knew most people didn't want these two to be endgame, LOVED Barney's growth as a character, and were not only eagerly waiting to meet Tracy but were also blown away by how she managed to be even better than we imagined. They wanted to have it both ways: give the audience what they wanted AND say "Sorry, this is our story, if you don't like it you don't have to watch it." It's cowardly, pathetic and a deep betrayal of the audience's trust, because people CAN accept not being given what they wanted - but they don't accept being lied to.

We never saw Barney be frustrated by Robin's work or by constant traveling before the finale - he's the "challenge accepted" guy, for fuck's sake, he used to go random trips just for the sake of having an adventure with his friends - thefore we don't believe that he is miserable enough that he'd want to end their marriage.

You can't show us Robin repeatedly choosing Barney over Ted, give us an insane scene of her covering Ted's face during sex to pretend she's sleeping with someone else, having her react to what she thinks is a proposal with 'You can't do this to me!", and even saying, to his face, that she doesn't love him, and then pretend that she totally still had feelings for him this entire time.

Even Ted pointed out, during this wedding to Stella, that Robin isn't hoping he'll remain single because she genuinely wants him, but because she's just afraid of being alone. C&C cannot convince general audiences, or critics, that she loves this man after they literally described the show as "The story of man that is in love with a woman, and she doesn't want that."

They can't tell me Ted genuinely loved Robin when he was constantly irritated by everything that makes her who she is: the fact that she's career-driven, always takes charge of everything, doesn't want kids, likes to travel around because she wants life to be an adventure, doesn't seem to believe in fate or soulmates, is a gun enthusiast, etc. They can't tell me they'd make it work when that's still who Robin is a person and Ted would still be irritated by it.

They DEFINITIVELY cannot convince me that him being hung up on her for so long means anything when he meets a new potential "soulamte" every other week, and will ALSO fall back in love with multiple exes the second he runs into them again, or so much as thinks back to the good old times.

And they absolutely cannot fucking tell me that he'd still be hung up on her after 25 fucking years, after he met his actual soulmate - unless they want me to believe the woman that was basically born from his rib is not his soulmate, which I call bullshit on.

And no, finale defenders, you cannot make this an inspirational "He found happiness with an old flame after his true love passed away because life is messy like that" when the show itself said, all the way back in season two "If Ted and Robin got married, they'd inevitably divorce, handle terribly, and screw up any kids they had."

Because yes, that's a thing that happens. When Robin meets Ted's parents, there's a whole misunderstanding about the dad supposedly cheating on the mom - and then we discover that actually they've been divorced FOR A LONG TIME, and just never told their kids because REASONS. Ted is even outraged that "Is this what passes for communication in this family?" More importantly, he and Robin, who are wearing the same colors as his parents, are shocked as they realize that the reasons for their divorce were the same reasons that made Robin not want to want Ted - the same reasons that would make them break up episodes later.

The writting is on the wall here. Ted and Robin will inevitably split up, and his kids will resent them both for getting them caught in the crossfire. Ted is already taking a page from his parents' book on How To Suck At Communicating Like A Normal Person by claiming he's gonna tell a story about their mother, only to then be like "Actually, this about how I love someone else and want to date her now."

"Oh, you just don't get it! The show was never about the Yellow Umbrella (Tracy)! It was about the Blue French Horn (Robin)!"

Yeah. It was about Robin. About how she's completely wrong for Ted and how they could never be happy together. About how he needs to let go of this obsession before it ruins his life and his relationship with everyone else that he is hurting during his attempts of getting with her: Victoria, Barney, Tracy, his children, and even Robin herself.

This is not a bittersweet ending. This is not a happy ending. This is two delusional writers ACCIDENTALLY giving their characters the most miserable endgame possible, and being convinced that they're giving us a fairy-tale ending - because yeah, that's what they thought. They weren't even aiming for bittersweet. They were never aiming for "Tragedy happens, but life goes on and you can still find happiness in it." They thought that Robin and Ted being so distraught by their awful lives that they convince themselves they were meant to be, and then go on to ruin their already shiity lives even more, was the most perfect happily ever after anyone could ask for.

The finale COULD have been great. Instead it was the worst thing imaginable, and the very fact that people can only try to defend it by WILDLY misterpreting what the writers wanted them to take from it is proof of how poorly thought out and written it was.

No one likes it for what it is, they like it for what they PRETEND it is. That simple fact is more insulting to this ending than anything I or anyone else could possibly say.

[wendigonamecaller]

Can't Forget To Love You.

NEW SERIES LETS GO.

Desc: Azure, Alastor’s darling wife, died tragically and suddenly one night from tuberculosis. Ever since then, Alastor had become ruthless in his killings. Finally, he meets his end and hopes the pain from losing his bird would end, only for it to hurt tenfold when he wakes up in Hell with Azure nowhere to be found. Almost a century later, his thoughts are once again captivated by her essence just as an Angel falls and decides to help Charlie out with her dream.

TW: cannon type violence, death, angst, Azure is a fallen angel, Azure is secretly unhinged, emotional Alastor, Alastor in denial, Azure doesn’t realize Alastor was her Alastor at first, Azure falls because she defends her husband against Adam and Sera. Eventual smut, cursing, both Alastor and Azure try to beat around the bush, Alastor tries to protect her by pushing her away.

Chapter tw: Crying Alastor, Simp Alastor, Masturbation, Alastor cries while masturbating.

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED, DM ME TO BE ADDED TO TAGLIST!!

Chapter 1: I Can Feel You Again.

Link to chapter 2:

“Alastor! I missed you.” Her voice was warm, and it left an echo in Alastor’s mind as he stared at nothing in particular. The sounds of the lobby disappeared from his ears as he focused on her heavenly voice, echoing in his mind like the choirs his mother would make him sit and endure every Sunday as a child.

His eye twitched as he delved deeper into his memories, every touch, every caress, every time she looked at him with her perfect green eyes. The stag was never one for touch, but at this moment he knew he’d give anything to feel her warm arms wrap around his middle and for her light perfume to swallow his senses whole. 

He’s brought out of his thoughts as Charlie calls his name. It sounded just like his bird for a second, but he knew deep down it wasn’t her.

“Yes, my dear?” He called in his usual false confidence. The blonde princess scratched the back of her neck as she thought of how to approach the subject.

“Your microphone was playing recordings of a woman calling for you.” She tells him, and Alastor feels a record scratch catch in his throat.

“Ah, my apologies darling.” He tells her, chuckling and twirling his staff in his hand before allowing the shadows to swallow the thing whole. 

She waved it off. “Who was that anyways? She sounds super sweet!” Charlie gushed and Alastor felt his throat squeeze shut almost instantly. His eyes burned and he willed the tears down almost instantly. He wouldn’t cry in front of these fools, not for his bird. No, his tears were only for his little dove. 

He does, however, decide one little detail about him wouldn’t hurt. 

“She was my wife. In life, that is.” He informs her, and Angel Dust cackles.

“So freaky face did fuck!” He guffaws, and Alastor rolls his eyes at the pornstar’s antics.

Vaggie scolds Angel Dust, while Alastor notices the cogs in Charlie’s head spinning. “Was she.. Like you?” the blond asks and the stag’s smile turns almost bittersweet.

He shook his head. “She was every picture of the perfect wife. Doting, good cook, a true sweetheart.” He tells her, easily losing himself in the memories again. 

To the Radio Demon, it was the one thing he hated about being a Sinner; the memories. He remembered everything, especially the sweet things.

“Maybe one day you’ll see her again.” Charlie offered, and Alastor shook his head. 

“Heaven is where she belongs, and Hell is where I belong. There is no changing that my dear, no matter how hard you try.” At Charlie’s crestfallen look, Alastor almost regrets having uttered those words.

It was days later when Alastor next thought about his bird. 

In some ways, Vaggie reminded him of his darling. Not in the way she acted or spoke no, but in the way she looked. Her iridescent hair that seemed to flow even when she wasn’t moving. Her dainty fingers that held no claws, no real malice unless she held her spear in hand.

Except his darling’s spear was always her words and the way she knew how to punish Alastor without physically harming him.

Oh, how he missed his pretty little wife.

But, missing her always came with the parts he disliked.

That happened to be now, claws digging into the back of the sofa in his room with his coat thrown to the floor, shirt untucked and sinking down his shoulders as his left hand vigorously pumped his length. He truly hated moments like this; self-service had never been his forte especially after they’d said their vows. It also didn’t help that his heart pinched painfully at the knowledge that his pretty dove wasn’t under him, that she was nowhere near him.

His growls melted into whimpers, hand falling away from his cock as thick hot tears rolled down his cheeks and made his smile strain even further. He ferociously wiped at his eyes, trying to dry his eyes before the tears could even fall, but was unsuccessful as they just kept flowing. 

“Az..” He whimpered, settling to instead sit on the sofa with his head buried in his hands, cock still throbbing and standing stiffly in his lap. All he could focus on mentally was the thought of her in her wedding dress, her perfect strawberry blonde hair pulled back with his mother’s headpiece in her hair holding her veil in place.

And then the events after their wedding, the way they clung to each other for hours, even well into the next morning. The memories of that exact day had his hand slinking back to his cock to rub over the tip like her tongue had, and then he was lifting his hips as he furiously fisted his length, tears still occasionally dripping down his face as he continued to get himself off until finally his forth orgasm ripped through him and he was able to relax against his sofa, basking in the post-orgasmic bliss alone.

[weirdestbooks]

Hermanos (Wattpad | Ao3 | CH HHM Oneshots)

“Rico, do you remember when Padre used to get mad at us for saying we were siblings?” Cuba asked one evening as he and Puerto Rico slowly walked down the streets of the latter’s capital. Puerto Rico was his uncle on his Padre’s side but on the side of his native father’s…Puerto Rico was his half-brother. It was a strange set of circumstances that Padre had hated more than anything.

“How can I not? He never went after me, but his anger was loud enough that we knew it, even though he played nice in front of my padre,” Puerto Rico joked before looking back at Cuba, concern in his eyes. “What’s this about?” Cuba didn’t answer, and Puerto Rico sighed. 

“Cubito…” he began warningly.

“Don’t Cubito me. I’m taller,” Cuba said, trying his best to keep a smile on his face. Puerto Rico raised a skeptical eyebrow, and Cuba’s resolve crumbled. “I’ve just been thinking about things recently. Padre’s gone; you’re a United Statian now, and I’m going to be a new country soon. I…I feel like so much has changed, and I…I don’t want to lose what’s left of my family.”

“Cuba, if you think being a country is going to stop me from being your big brother, I’m going to start thinking that independence made you stupid,” Puerto Rico deadpanned. Cuba stopped in his tracks, gaping at the smaller colony.

“Excuse me?” He asked, startled. Puerto Rico smiled before speaking.

“You heard me. That’s a stupid thing to say. I’m always going to be with you, and I can tell you now that your brother feels the same way. Florida was never hiding from you. He was hiding from New Spain and the expectations of perfection that haunted him. But not from you, you know that.”

Cuba knew that. It was one of the first things Puerto Rico had said to him when they reunited, that he was sorry for leaving Cuba behind. Florida had sworn on his immortality that Cuba would always be his family, be his hermanito.

It was easy to be told that. It was harder to believe it.

“I know I’m just…I’ve never been alone before. I’ve wanted this for so, so long, and I’m not going to give it up, but…I never realized how lonely it was going to be,” Cuba sighed.

“We’re not going to leave you…we’re just going to be somewhere else. A new house, a different country. But come on, Cubito, you know how big this family is and how many countries make it up. Is Dominican Republic any less your aunt because she’s independent and adopted?” Puerto Rico asked. Cuba shook his head.

“Of course not!” he said. Aunt Dominican Republic had struggled with her place in the family due to the nature of her adoption and the nature of the restoration of her independence, but she never stopped being family, always sending letters and remaining in contact, even apologizing to Abuelo for giving him false hope that their family would be reunited again.

“Then why is it different when it’s you and not her?” Puerto Rico asked. Cuba paused, processing that question. Why was it different? Why did he feel like his entire family was going to leave him as soon as he became independent?

“I don’t…I don’t know,” Cuba eventually said. Puerto Rico smiled, soft and sweet, so reminiscent of the foggy memories Cuba had of their native father.

“We’ll be there for you. I promise. We’ll write, and we’ll visit, and we will ensure that you never feel alone. Understood?” Puerto Rico asked. Cuba smiled, pushing aside tears. 

“Perfectly.”

[dreaming-for-an-escape]

Okay so here’s an Aurelia & Maegor drabble. 18+ only please. There is major dub-Con. It’s Maegor Targaryen...so...yeah. BE WARNED. 

Aurelia hated his smell, the way his coarse hands felt on her body, she hated everything about Maegor Targaryen. The hatred she felt for him was hidden now, for she learned what would happen if she made it known. She could still feel the phantom aches throughout her body when Maegor did his husbandly duty on their wedding night many months ago.

Since then he hadn’t been as violent with her but he wasn’t soft either, not really. A man like Maegor could never be like that, not even to Aurelia who was his favorite out of his wives…or so he would say. He had a funny way of showing favoritism.

The ruby gemstone necklace he’d so generously given her felt more like a collar. She wasn’t allowed to take it off, which had been an order from him. He always wanted her to have it on, especially when he took her to bed. Tonight would be no different.

Her cruel husband wasn’t even supposed to visit her tonight. It was Tyanna’s turn to entertain Maegor but during dinner he made a brisk announcement that he would be visiting Aurelia instead.

Aurelia hadn’t missed the way Tyanna’s face twisted, the hold on her goblet tightening so much she was surprised it hadn’t cracked. Everyone noticed her anger, aside from Maegor who instead had his hungry eyes on Aurelia.

That same look in his violet eyes was there when he barged into her chambers. He said nothing to her as he practically threw her onto the bed, turning her so that her hips were up and her face rested on the pillows. She heard him take off his clothing before he ripped apart her dress.

Then without properly preparing her, Maegor shoved himself inside her. Aurelia’s scream was a silent one, and the few tears that did escape her were absorbed by the pillows. It seemed tonight her husband was too eager to get inside her, as shown by his uneven and speedy thrusts that were being guided by his large hands on her hips. 

Thankfully for Aurelia it only lasted as long as counting to forty in her head. Foolishly she thought that was it but to her horror he turned her back around to face him. She much preferred when he took her from behind, at least that way she wouldn't have to see his face.

“Say you love me.” Maegor growled, staring down at her with his violet eyes. He eyed the ruby gemstone that lay above her breasts before looking into her eyes. Unfortunately for her, he didn't give her time to answer and he started thrusting inside her. His hands pinned her own above her head, making her feel more defenseless. His thrusts were fast, deep, and overall brutal. Though it was nothing like her wedding night it still pained her.

Aurelia held back tears as she gave him a smile she perfected over the months since marrying him. “I love you.” She falsely declared. It was convincing enough because he was then smashing his lips to her own, biting her lower lip until it bled. She told herself a bloody lip was better than him choking or slapping her.

Aurelia looked up at the canopy while Maegor continued rutting into her. His groans made her want to frown but she fought to keep the smile in place. There wasn’t much else she could do but hope he’d finish soon and that he wouldn’t want to bed her a third time tonight. She was already sore, and although his seed hadn’t taken root in her yet after all these months she still didn’t want to risk it.

Maegor was desperate for an heir, but Aurelia didn’t want to be the one to bring an innocent child into this mess. However if she did end up pregnant she’d do more than give fake smiles and falsely declare her love for Maegor. She’d leave this hell of a place. Somehow Aurelia would leave because no child should grow up knowing Maegor as their father.

Aurelia kept thinking this even after Maegor finally spilled his heavy load inside her. 

[enduringenthusiast]

There's a lot of this going around in NATLA but Bumi is the worst character assisnation to me (Suki and katara were also very hard to watch but at least they had some things going for them). I had to go back and watch the original episode to make sure I didn't have some wild false memory of it. I don't understand why the creators hated Bumi so much to make him this neglectful venegeful person?

Knowing it's bumi right away ruins everything. Yes, it takes away the suspense, but it makes their interactions so confusing. In the original sure bumi is doing this crazy stuff but at the end, Aang isn't even mad he's just so happy to see his friend and it makes the audience give it all a pass. Combining all the problems into omashu makes Bumi horrible, which they know and have several comments that he's not fit to lead, but also ends up addressing Bumis hate and not his role in how bad the city is. In the original omashu is... kind of the perfect city? Things are going well, people seem happy, they're taking an active effort in the war, Bumi even has a line that the people are too well fed. He's a good king, which makes the craziness fun and esoteric instead of a irredeemable danger to those around him! Even if the creators thought "what kind of friend does this, lets make him evil" another thing to pay attention to is that Aang actually isnt in very much danger, it just feels like he is. The gemstone surrounding them was candy, the beast chasing him was a pet, the man fighting him was his friend. They took all of that and said but what if he was actually bloodthirsty. In NATLA, Bumi resents aang and is doing this out of anger rather than wanting to impart wisdom in his own funny way, but that change doesn't translate to the other changes. If your gonna rewrite things you at least have to make those rewrites consistent. In the original he ran away, but bumi was just happy to see him again. In the new one, he doesn't run away... but bumi resents him for running away? Most ironic of all is that I imagine they made these changes to be more dramatic or have more narrative impact but the effect is the opposite. The og is pretty silly and could definitely be labeled more on the filler side, and yet Bumis lesson to Aang to think outside the box is relevant in the finale of the whole show - he finds his own way to handle Ozai. Here with Bumi being angry and venegeful, we get Aang learning his own lesson about... friendship? Relying on people? Feel like we learned that one already. With your very limited run time, what do we earn by having Bumi act this way, more guilt on Aang? We learned that already too. When you cut out 2/3 of the episodes and only keep the ones that fit your "tight" narrative, you sure do end up repeating the same lesson 8 times in a row. I don't hate NATLA there were parts I even liked, but everything in Omashu was so rushed and confusing and ruined that I started hoping they'd include less so they didn't mess it up rather than being excited for my favorites moments. But I will say his costume was incredible.

[havinganormalone]

Annotated example of a failed fuck boy: red flags and how to spot bullshit

So I had a LOVELY encounter last night on tinder, and while the encounter itself was nothing uncommon, it was a perfect example of how certain men will try to lie and manipulate you to put you in an unsafe position. I wanted to breakdown the different red flags this guy gave off, as an instructional guide for anyone who might be new to the app dating scene, especially if you are kinky. Below the cut, I'll post the encounter, as well as annotations going blow by blow on the different red flags he gave off, and the vetting I did to get the information I need to determine he was unsafe, and some tips on how you can do the same.

Relevant context about myself: I am a genderqueer bisexual, so I choose people based on personality and compatibility, not gender. This means sometimes I still encounter cis het men on dating apps. That doesn't bother me, some are nice. But a lot will lie to you and say anything to get into your pants, including ignoring your gender. I am a trans masc butch, and say as much in my profiles, as well as that I am on T. Incels and pick up artists see me as a vagina and tits. This is not gay to them- I am confused and their dick can fix me. I'll let you know the tip offs that showed this guy falls into this camp.

I also am on the asexual spectrum, and am more interested in kink than sex. Again, this is plain as day on my profile. Many of these men will PRETEND to be kinky and have experience in order to con me into vanilla sex. They think being kinky means being easy or having low standards, will give lip service to being kinky, and then not know how to negotiate or do kink safely. When they show up, at best you're going to have them waffle and be like "I don't feel like having kinky sex tonight, can we do vanilla?" The goal is to get in the door with false promises and then hope to wear you down into having unsatisfying sex you don't want (and they will probably try to renege on any agreement to use protection while you are at it). At worst, this man is going to show up and do dangerous edgeplay on you with no experience and no proper negotiation- like starting to choke you during sex, which can kill you. I am experienced enough to have safety precautions and be able to hold my ground and send someone packing if they show up and do not honor agreements, but not everyone is, and spotting red flags before it gets to that point is the goal.

Okay, without further ado, let's get into it.

(Since he doesn't clearly show his face in his pfp, I'm not gonna bother to censor. It's not enough to identify him.) Yellow markings as things that aren't red flags and in certain contexts might be okay, but should make you cautious. Red is red flags. Green is my response and how I protected myself.

So right off the bat he gives me his number (which is censored). Any scammers or foul actors will want to get you off the app and talking through other means as quickly as possible. This is because if someone does scam me or hurt me, if we are still on the app, I can report it directly to the app and get that person banned. If we are off app, I will have to send in screenshots, and that extra step keeps scammers or foul actors retaining their accounts for longer. Be extra cautious the more impermanent or harder to report the method is: if you communicate only through snapchat, by the time the scam or harm is done, the evidence has deleted itself. However, I only put this as a yellow because there are several genuine reasons a person may not want to communicate via app. I personally hate typing on my phone and would rather talk through discord or another messaging service I can use on my desktop. However, be a little cautious when someone asks you to go off app. Don't give them any info that is too personal, and make sure you can save any evidence in the event it is needed. (Honestly I think this guy just wanted to send me dick pics, but it was not a great start)

He's up for ANYTHING I am? Wow! What an amazing deal! I better jump on it quickly! ANYTHING???? If I wanted to do an awesome fire play scene that incorporated live ammo, he'd be down??? The truth is, when you are actually experienced in kink, you know that you can't do everything on a moment's notice. Things take prep, the right space and equipment, as well as building trust. This fuck boy has no patience for that. He's here to put his penis inside me for 5 minutes and then leave. Being down for anything is code for him being desperate and being willing to make me promises he doesn't intend to keep.

We have so much in common! Like [INSERT HOBBY HERE]. He doesn't name anything he thinks we have in common, but leaves it vague and hopes I don't challenge him. This is a pick up artists strategy to attempt to "trick" me into thinking we are soulmates, when in reality, he isn't interested in getting to know me, and doesn't give a fuck about compatibility. Again, this is yellow because he could be sincere and just miswording it. You find out which it is by asking follow up questions, like I do later on, that reveal this to be a ploy.

He is projecting his desires onto me and assuming I want them without ever actually asking me what I want. He wants to spend the night with me, so of course I must want that. I'm just a dumb bitch, there's no way I'd have thoughts and desires of my own! Also I haven't even sent him a message yet, and already he's seeing into the future, as if it's a foregone conclusion I'll be head over heels for him. This is another pickup artist tactic- they pretend to be interested in the longterm, when in reality they want a one and done. If they're gonna be with you forever, maybe you can overlook a LITTLE one-sidedness in bed. After all, there will always be later! It's writing a blank check when your account is at zero. (Although also in reality, most of these wannabes are pathetic and desperate enough that they will come back for more as long as you let them use you and don't assert your own needs. All the more reason to assert your needs!)

skipped 5 cause I can't count lmao

Okay, so this is my first message to him. I'm already suspicious enough that I normally wouldn't even respond, but I enjoy baiting these guys for my amusement. I'm a sicko like that. Anyways, you would be perfectly justified for reading the initial flags and bailing, you never owe people a response, but if you did want to give them the benefit of the doubt, then from here I suggest you prod a couple of those red flags. Establish boundaries, like I did about not wanting to meet up immediately and caring about compatibility. Establishing boundaries early is great- it gives these fuckos plenty of time to demonstrate they can't respect boundaries before you even meet IRL! Efficient! Here, I ask a very simple question that is very revealing: What are you into? This is a chance for him to make a genuine connection, be honest and share information about himself, and then ask me questions so he can learn about me. Notice he does not do that. Someone who wants to be real with you, even if it's for a night, will jump at the chance to talk about themselves at length. We'll see how he dodges giving and specifics in the next few responses, because he doesn't want to be genuine. He wants to lie in order to deceive me into fucking him, because he suspects (and may be correct!) that his true self is repulsive and terrible enough that I won't want to sleep with him if I knew who he really was.

So he gives me a laundry lists of non-specific answers in response to me asking about himself. Absolutely NO specifics. He doesn't mention genre, or particular media, or even game systems. Important context is that I list writing, reading, anime and gaming as some of my own hobbies on my profile. Honestly, props to him for even bothering to reflect some of that information back, that took bare minimum effort! This is a yellow, because hey, maybe we DO have overlapping interests. That's not a crime. But when you see stuff like this, ask follow up questions, like I do in my next response. The fraud is trying to strike a delicate balance of throwing out a wide enough net that something piques my interest and he can use that as an opening to meet and pressure me into sex, while being vague enough that I won't be able to tell if we don't actually play the same video games or like the same books. Remember, he's not trying to see me as a person. He doesn't give a fuck about what makes me come alive. I probably like dumb girl games, anyways! I could never appreciate his precious animes in the same way, so there's no point getting excited about them with me.

Again, this is a dead giveaway that someone has no idea what the fuck they are talking about when it comes to kink. Wow, you're into EVERYTHING? Can I shit in your mouth? Would you be interested in gargling my period blood? Any thoughts about branding? All of these are perfectly acceptable kinks when done consensually, of course, but people who actually ARE kinky and have experience know themselves enough to know they have limits, or even things they like or don't like. Kinksters not only recognize that everyone has hard no's and limits, they relish in sharing and understanding them. After all, consent is so important to kink, that the idea of just jumping into a scene without discussing what each party is okay with first is ANATHEMA to how kink works. This dude either has never done anything kinky, does not care about consent, or both.

This is a yellow flag not just because IQ is bullshit garbage science, but that it is empty flattery. He is trying to make me feel smart so that I agree to meet him in hopes of getting more of that sweet, sweet validation. He does not actually mean this. He thinks I am an idiot and is counting on me being stupid enough to fall for the bait. This is the kind of flattery men love to give out: the kind that not only do they not mean, but they actually think the opposite of. They love the thrill of tricking you and being able to feel superior for getting you to fall for something. (And this isn't even touching on the fact that intelligence is an insignificant metric for measuring how kind and wonderful a person is but that's a rant for a different post.

9. 2 because as I have just demonstrated, intelligence isn't the end all be all and I can't count! Anyways, this is my second response, and at this point I know for sure I have a liar on my line, so I'm going to play with him a little bit by asking him obvious questions that will make him panic and bullshit harder. If you want to tell if someone has ANY knowledge of BDSM, this is such a soft ball question that so many people fuck up: what are some scenes you've enjoyed? A person who has never participated in BDSM will have no idea how scenes actually work. Their only frame of reference is porn, which in case you are unaware, bears very little resemblance to how BDSM works in the real world. Porn cuts out the amount of set up, as well as the level of skill some performers have to practice to achieve. The average fuckboy thinks that a bound gangbang is a normal Wednesday for this fantasy life they want to live, and they have 0 idea how to achieve that. Meanwhile, most kinksters, even ones that live for bound gangbangs, realize that coordinating that many people's schedules and getting a space and negotiating consent and having the hard points for the rope ties and having someone skilled in shibari tie up the bottom is a lot of work. Most of our scenes are smaller in scale, but still intimate and fun. Maybe I'm gonna line soda cans up on my girlfriends' dumptruck butt and flog them off and we're both going to laugh so hard we cry. That's a scene I would believe could exist, because it has enough quirky, concrete detail that actual kinksters get up to, and is the sort of silly intimacy that makes kink fun for people. But this fuckboy wants to impress me, so we'll see the lie he actually comes up with soon.

10. Another way to easily tell if someone has ANY idea what they are talking about is to ask how their kink negotiations work. They rarely show this in porn- the negotiations take place off camera, because they are considered "too boring." But for someone into kink, this is where the real action happens. Every good scene starts with all parties sitting down and expressing desires. If someone asked me this, I would probably tell them how the first time I play with a new partner, I like to do a calibration phase where I do something very gently, ask them to rate it, do it slightly harder, ask them to rate it again, until we reach the limit of what they are comfortable with for that scene. By starting low and going slow, I avoid doing too much for my subs, and it helps build trust with them that I will not disrespect their comfort levels. My kink negotiations usually include hands on time with ongoing, enthusiastic consent, in order to get familiar with a new partner's preferences. Other people have more formal contracts to go over, with things like each partner writing down what they agree to or what is off limits. Shit, I've seen people who do needle play who have a diagram of the human body and ask their subs to circle areas they are comfortable having needles. There are several ways to handle kink negotiations, but they should all have the end goal of communicating what sort of play the sub is okay with, and maximizing safety while minimizing risk. The average liar will have no idea how to respond to this, and will do something half-assed. My guy didn't even bother to address it.

10.2 Why did I bother numbering these if I can't count? Anyways, he responds to my inquiry about his hobbies with more vagaries. He doesn't want to give me specifics because he doesn't see me as a person worth engaging with. Do you care if your fleshlight has an opinion on video games? That's what I am to him. There's also that trademark pickup artist attempt to portray himself as a "high value male." Yuck.

11. Huge red flag here: he doesn't know what the term "scene" means in the BDSM sense. He thinks I'm talking about filming?? Like, this is such a base level term I'm honestly surprised he failed this, but here we are. For those that don't know (because not knowing or having experience is okay and something you shouldn't be ashamed of- it's trying to deceive people about your experience that is dangerous!) a "scene" in BDSM means when people engage in negotiated kink. His rephrasing as an "elaborate scenario" is closer to the meaning than his assumption that it is about filming. Anyways, one of the reasons we call it a "scene" is because things agreed to in one scene are for that scene only, and after the scene ends, consent for those activities stops, and needs to be re-negotiated to be done again. For example, if you do an impact scene, then the scene ends, the top doesn't have permission to whack you the next day. You gave consent to be hit for that scene, and that scene only. It's an important building block to consent, and something a lot of outsiders misunderstand. Look, it's really just LARPing, you guys. You wouldn't run up to a LARP partner at the grocery store and whack them with their staff, because you are not in the game right now. Same goes for BDSM and consent negotiations.

12. (safe) "rape roleplay" scenario. The specific term for that is consensual non-consent, or CNC, and the fact that you don't know the terminology means you probably have no idea what you are talking about. Also, there is again a vague statement with no detail to back it up. Exactly how was the roleplay safe? Safety doesn't happen by accident. Tell me how you made it safe. Did you have a safeword? A drop flag for when the bottom was gagged? How often did you do color check ins? The idea of a safeword has entered the public consciousness, but that is only one small part of a BDSM safety net. Having a safeword for a scene as intense as this isn't enough by itself. A lot of people who fantasize about BDSM but don't actually do it don't realize that being able to break scene for 5 seconds to ask "Color?" and have the bottom check in with a "Green" is just as integral to a good scene as having a safeword. Consent is not just the absence of no- it is ongoing and enthusiastic, which means you also should do the occasional scene pause to check in. How often depends on experience and familiarity, but it is still there.

13. "My boyfriend." I only mention this because his profile said he was straight. He is feigning queerness because he knows I am queer and thinks he can do this to score brownie points with me. I know, I know, identity is complex and who am I to say he's never had a bisexual experience blah blah blah. I'm a trans person with a complicated gender identity, is who I am, and I have cis het men who see me as nothing more than a confused women pull this shit on my all the time. Listen, transmascs out there, stay safe. Cis het men WILL feign support of your identity to fuck you without respecting you. (Also cis het men can be terrible to everyone, but this is just something I've personally experienced that I don't see enough people talking about).

14. Again, this gives NO specifics. Name one position. Name one piece of gear. What the fuck do you mean lighting? I think he's still conflating "scene" with shooting a porno. He is throwing a lot at me trying to impress me without betraying his ignorance. Or at least, hoping not to betray it, but I see right through that shit, and I hope seeing this illustrated helps you see through it, too.

15. "It lasted over 2 hours straight with no breaks." Again, this is a number that SOUNDS impressive. After all, when was the last time you saw a porn that was even 2 hours long? But for those of us that do BDSM, an elaborate scene like this can take a while, because there are so many filler moments where we catch our breath or the action lulls, etc. That's the stuff they cut out in porn, which is also why he thinks no breaks is realistic. And I don't know, maybe it is for him and this supposed boyfriend, but it is definitely a yellow flag that should have you raising an eyebrow.

16. He's mad that I am making him bullshit so much, so he again pressures me to hang out and negs me about being boring. God, I'm so fucking dull, trying to vet someone and make sure I'm safe. Better act fast so he doesn't get bored and leave. Barf. This is a clear violation of my previous boundary about wanting to chat before I get to know someone. Again, I cannot emphasize this enough, as a Dom, I would NEVER pressure someone to rush into something. Jesus fucking Christ! The idea makes me sick. I want to talk to them and know what they are into so I can prep something we will both enjoy. Not to flex, but I love designing weird, fun scenes, and this is not how you do it. Also, please note that he has not asked me a SINGLE question about myself, or even what sort of kink I am looking for. I am not a person worth getting to know. He's not interested in doing kink with me. He wants to show up and pressure me into vanilla sex, which as an acespec kinkster, is a hard no for me. Please do not give in to this sort of pressure! I promise, no matter how badly you want to find a play partner, this sort of person will not play with you safely or even in a way that is fun.

17. Okay, context here off screen: as much as it KILLED me, I couldn't meet with him that night, because I was busy doing some intense tabletop with some trans friends. I told you that BDSM is basically LARP in a different hat, so you're not gonna be surprised that I'm also into nerdy tabletop. Anyways, this message didn't make the screenshots, but that's the context of what I told him offscreen.

18. He not only assumes that when I say I'm hanging out with some queer friends tonight that it is an orgy, he also assumes he is invited. It is important to illustrate that this sort of person does not care about your boundaries. He also takes it for granted that the queer people would be dying for his dick. (My guy. Why would we want your dick when there was perfectly good girlcock already there?)

19. Okay, this is a pet peeve of mine. 8 inch dick is actually very rare, like less than 10% of the penis-having population will have one. And yet every guy is MAGICALLY 8 inches. This bothers me not because I care about the size of a dick- you can have fun with any size- but because good sex is about good communication, and lying is NOT good communication. Again, the goal is to get in the door, and then if the penis is underwhelming, he's already there and can whine and sadsack and wear me down. This is yellow because hey, maybe he really DOES have that big of a dick, but it still doesn't matter. I never once indicated that I would be interested in touching or stimulating his penis, and still he has to bring it up.

At this point, the tabletop was getting intense, so I decided to stop baiting him and blow my cover so I could shift focus to the game. I sent him my response, then didn't check my phone again until this morning, at which point he'd left me this absolute GEM.

Okay, so obviously I hope none of you ever get in this deep with one of these scumbags, but now we've gone into some distressing patterns of abuse that I still want to point out as unacceptable and explain why.

20. He flips from building me up to tearing me down and promoting himself as better. Like my guy, I recognize as a human you have intrinsic value and deserve a right to live, but you don't recognize that same humanity in me. Do not let people like this make you feel any sort of way. They do not see the humanity in you, so you can safely disregard their opinion.

21. This is classic DARVO. For those that don't know DARVO is an abuse and control tactic that stands for Deny, Attack, Reverse Victim and Offender. He denies any wrong doing, attacks me with some pithy insults (I'm not schizophrenic, but being schizophrenic isn't an insult, and the fact that he thinks it is speaks volumes), and then accuses ME of doing exactly what he is doing. Listen, if you are a kind human being, chances are when someone levels you with an accusation of causing harm, you're going to do some self-reflection and soul searching because you don't want to hurt people. Abusers prey on this. They make you feel guilty for calling them out so that you are afraid to do so. If you are worried about hurting THEIR feelings, you will take the high road, even if it means being silent when they hurt you. Do not do this. Please. For me. Don't let people abuse you. You deserve to be happy and safe, and people like this have NO right to abuse you.

Also I really want to clarify: there is nothing to be ashamed of about not having experience! Everyone starts somewhere! The reason I rail on this guy for not knowing what he is talking about is that it is DANGEROUS to present yourself as experienced when you aren't, especially when kink is involved. People can get seriously hurt if they attempt kink without the proper knowledge or instruction, and I don't want anyone to be the guinea pig of men that aren't big enough to admit they are beginners. Rope play can cut off circulation and do nerve damage, impact play can cause serious spinal injuries if done improperly, needle play could lead to needles breaking off under, the skin, etc. Educating yourself about how to properly engage in a kink and reduce risk is so important, and so is vetting your potential play partners.

So I hope this was at all educational, and that maybe after breaking down these tactics step by step, you are better able to spot red flags, as well as having some tools to draw the truth out. If you found this guide helpful, consider reblogging so that someone else can find it helpful, too!