#and they're in love you can fight me on this THEY. ARE. IN LOVE.

[cheralith]

my serendipity ₊˚⊹♡

— promise yourself to him, and he'll love you forever tenfold. or... the blue lock boys and their proposals to you.

starring ; isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, michael kaiser content warnings ; gn!reader, reader wears a skirt (bachira), cursing (shidou/kaiser), reader wears a dress and heels (kaiser), lowk ooc shidou, mildly ooc kaiser, not fully edited as of 02/15 a/n ; happy late valentine's day everyone and a happy birthday to me hehe! i hope i'm not late by a mere day, but this is both my valentine's day event and my birthday gift from me to you all, so i hope that alongside this, you're surrounded by nothing but tender loving care amidst the season of love ( •◡-)-♡! there's also a collection of some of my favorite love songs i've added under each of the names that i think fit them/their scene, so take a listen for a more immersive experience, so enjoy!

— love, isagi yoichi.

The freshness of the meadow's air was an atmosphere you think you can breathe in forever, for it was so much more pristine and clear than the air you were used to in the city. The setting sun overviews the seaside town that you and your boyfriend took the pleasure of visiting as a treat for you both since he was currently off season and you decided to make the most out of what you could do. It was a scene straight out of a painting, you think to yourself, as yellows and oranges paint the sky overhead, a sliver of iris beginning to take over as twilight sets.

The little town below you hustles and bustles about, its townspeople fluttering over to wrap up the seemingly mundane day. You're a little envious that they get to see such a beautiful sight like this everyday and get to breathe in fresh air without the mayhem of cars and salarymen scattering themselves. Closing your eyes, you take in the cooling spring air of the meadow, letting yourself linger amidst the peaceful atmosphere of the countryside.

You'll miss this. The peace and placidity of a place like this. You dream of retiring to a cottage somewhere similar to here, somewhere where the grass is greener and the sky is bluer. You think it'd do you some good.

"I think some wine would pair well with your daydreaming," a voice says playfully.

Opening your eyes, you see your companion holding a bottle of wine in his hands, gentle eyes softening at your serenity. Yoichi is glad he brought you here, knowing that you needed a break from city life to just simply get away to the tranquility of the countryside. The change in you was more than evident—the stiffness in your body was long gone upon arrival and you were much more laxed when it came to last minute changes on the itinerary. It was rare he saw this side of you, so he savored it with every moment he was able to get.

Smiling gently at your boyfriend, you nod and let him pour two glasses of white wine into the glasses you and him had brought for this picnic.

"How're the sandwiches?" Yoichi asks, handing you your glass. "I bought them at this local diner nearby the hotel, so I hope they're okay."

"I really was never much of a bologna fan until now," you say as you pick up your half-eaten sandwich and hold it out for him to take a nibble. "It's a little salty, but I like it."

"I'm glad," he affirms through chews before he hums in approval. "Did you try the charcuterie board yet? This place is known for their cheeses."

You shake your head. Yoichi grins and eagerly begins to throw together a cheese-and-cracker creation, topped off with a bit of crumbled nuts. He gently cups his hand underneath the one holding the stack and motions for you to come forward.

Biting gently and letting his hand catch the crumbs, you giggle when you thoughtfully chew on the combinations as Yoichi throws the extra crumbs in his mouth to not let anything go to waste.

"Hey! This was pricey," he claims, "I'm sure half a cracker cost one hundred yen each..."

You fight the urge to spit out your food at his exaggeration. Yoichi may be a world class soccer player, with the mere mention of his name lighting peoples' faces with pride as the ace of one of Japan's soccer teams, but despite his hefty salary, there was still that semi-frugal middle class boy who still debated in buying a yogurt drink or ice cream whenever you and him stopped by a convenience store—never mind the fact that he could buy fifty of each in one sitting.

His humbleness, however, is what made you so drawn to him in the first place. He knew, you knew, and everyone knew of his great skill and play on the field, but in interviews, he was always one to scratch his neck and say "I just did what I could, really..." post-games. Yoichi never let the fame get to his head, and his ability to stay so grounded to earth made you filled with love solely for him and him alone.

The mix of the sweetness of the cheese and the saltiness of the cracker blend beautifully together on your tongue. You mimic his actions from before and give a hum and nod with approval at your boyfriend's taste.

There's a few other assortments of food that you and him have collected prior to the picnic—some fresh fruit you had bought and cut from the farmer's market, a small pasta bowl made by Yoichi himself, little quiches you had grabbed from one of the bakeries, and a strange white box that peeks itself out of the picnic basket that you have yet to open that was brought by Yoichi.

Gently clinking your glasses together, the wine that goes down your throat feels just as mellow as the atmosphere that hugs you and your boyfriend. Everything feels just so perfect right now, you could bathe yourself in such contentment.

Some conversations float by between you and Yoichi, breezy and effortless for sometime as the sun slowly sets itself into the mountains. Talks about work, about his recent plays (you laugh out loud whenever his anger gets the best of him and a short fuse of cusses spit out from him when he talks about specific players' plays, throwing a stray at one of his teammates), about the latest gossips, everything that just comes naturally to you. There was no need for a filter whenever Yoichi was with you. His judgement barely shone through when you were around.

He finishes the last of his wine rather quickly. Yoichi places it down gently and grabs your hands in his own. "I have a surprise for you."

A brow raises as your lips curl. "Oh?"

"Wait here, yeah?" Yoichi asks as grabs the picnic basket and places it in front of you. "I have to go grab something from the car. Why don't you prepare the cake in the meantime, hm? Maybe do some cleanup with the food, too, since it's getting late."

"Oh so that's what's inside the box," you murmur.

"Uh huh, I had it specially made for us," he says with a pinch of excitement in his voice. Yoichi gathers up a few of the plates and juts them in your hands, a wobbly smile upon his face as he gets up and dusts himself off, beginning to jog off in the direction of the parking lot. "I'll be right back!"

You blink at his hastiness, a little out of character for him, but shrug as you return back to your original position facing the coastal town and sunset. You're glad he tasked you with cleaning up the leftovers, since you've grown accustomed to Yoichi's occasional messiness and clumsiness when it came to handling food. There was one time during a friend's dinner party that he dropped the pot roast in front of everyone, meat going everywhere to Bachira's delight and to Barou's disdain. You also grow a little weary whenever he's around ceramic, since he's broken quite a few bowls and plates without much effort since Yoichi doesn't seem to have a grasp of his own strength whenever he washes the dishes.

You shake your head at the memories, quietly laughing to yourself when you remember Barou forcing him to mop his apartment floor from the remnants of the meat as a punishment. Barou still invites you over to his house during group events, but you often have to plead with him to invite your boyfriend, now used to the pulled face he makes or the curse of "Is the donkey really necessary to bring?" through the phone.

Tenderly, you open the picnic basket and carefully take out the white cake box to put it on the blanket. You go to prepare two plates together for the cake and take the cake cutter out of the basket, ready for slicing. Your fingers gently tug at the delicate silk ribbon right before you open the lid.

Your heart skips a beat.

It's a simple white vanilla cake shaped into a heart. Its framed with pale pink frosting on its side, as well as a couple of chocolate-covered strawberries placed in some places of the framing. But it's not the design of the cake that captures you.

It's what's written on it.

Four words written in delicate cursive so clearly and distinctly that it's hard to miss.

Will you marry me?

Your breath hitches as you read it with glazed eyes, your head whipping around to call Yoichi over, thinking perhaps he grabbed the wrong cake by accident from the cake shop, but your doubts suddenly dissipate when you're faced with Yoichi on one knee before you...

... with a velvet box in hand, a glimmering ring ready for you tucked carefully within it.

Words falter, and you can only stare at him in astonishment as he smiles at you, his lips still a little crooked in apprehension.

He bites his lip, grin growing a little wider as tears brim your eyes.

"Well?"

— with all my heart, bachira meguru.

"Meguru, that's cheating!"

"Since when where there rules to tag?!"

You huff in annoyance as your boyfriend hops off the railing of the staircase he just slid down from as his hand grazed your back to indicate you were "it" again.

You can feel some of the stares of the security guards that were left to babysit you and him as you dash your way down the staircase to chase after your boyfriend through the empty halls of the museum he had cleared out for you and him this evening. That's one of the many pros of being a professional soccer player—that anything can be bent at someone's will with a mere slide of stacks of cash. And Meguru had decided to use his own gain to entertain you and him.

By playing a game of tag between the two of you in amidst the massive art museum.

He claimed it was the perfect foundation for it; pillars to hide behind, a maze of rooms to obscure the tail that one may have on another, wide halls to run around in. For Bachira Meguru, this was the perfect battleground besides the turf of a soccer field. You suppose it also came from his early love of art due to his mother being a painter, with some of her collections even being shown for the season in one of the halls.

Anyone else of your ages would think such an activity was foolish. To an extent, yes, they were right. You and Meguru were both adults with adult responsibilities and adult lives... but you only live once and you and him lived by the philosophy to live it to the fullest. Childish whimsies came more often to you and your boyfriend, and that was the gravitational pull that drew you and him together to blossom a relationship filled with surprises and spontaneity. You felt unbelievably alive with him.

He'd call you in the middle of the night, asking you if you want to skinny dip in the nearby beach with him. He'd stop the car in the middle of a busy road as the view of an amusement park came closer, snatching your arm and tugging you out of it to run to its entrance. He'd show up at your door with concert tickets in hand unprompted, jutting one in your hand and telling you to get ready.

Bachira Meguru was a lightening bolt, sparking energy everywhere unsolicited. And you were more than happy to be struck over again and again if it meant you felt alive.

So now you're here. It's near midnight, and you're sure you and him have scattered almost all the interior terrain of the museum he cleared out in your game of tag that he brought up to you yesterday evening out of nowhere, telling you to dress nice, but to wear running shoes.

Meguru poked his head out from behind a wall that lead to the other room, giggling as you whip your head a few times to catch where he went before you spot his bright canary yellow eyes and run after him.

You weave through the plethora of statues that sprinkle about the corridor, sprinting after the flash of brown and yellow hair in front of you. It shouldn't be fair that you're currently chasing down a professional soccer player who clearly has the upper hand, but in all honesty, you think the challenge makes it all the more fun.

Stopping to catch your breath, you hunch down for a bit, gathering your skirt in your hands to reveal the worn-out running shoes you wear that contrast heavily to the outfit you're wearing as you collect your energy.

"Don't tell me you're tired already," Meguru sings out, his voice rather close.

You lift your head up to see your boyfriend standing just a few meters in front of you, leaning on a pillar of a statue with a cocky smile, arms crossed as if this was the easiest thing in the world. There wasn't even a sheen of sweat on his forehead, unlike your misted one. Your chest heaves for a few moments, and he watches anticipatingly as you collect yourself before you take a swipe at him.

Meguru jumps back just in time, laughter ringing out as you gather up your speed and sprint. You manage to turn a corner that's shared with the hallway he had just turned on and take a shortcut, waiting behind the open wall before you jump out and tap his shoulder.

"Gotcha," you grin as he gasps in delight and looks back at you, mischief ever so clear in his face.

You attempt to muffle your many fits of giggles when you come up with a plan to try and escape him. There's two choices that unfold before you—either you can run up the flight of stairs into the Greek artifacts or you can enter into the inner garden.

With not much time left, you can hear his quickening footsteps growing louder and louder, and you go for the latter.

Your feet carry you into the dark garden, making you squint your eyes to get a proper view of where you're going, but you see a sheen of light the closer you get to the center of it. Deciding that might be where the common area is, you quickly dart towards it but gasp when the entirety of it comes into full view.

Candles light up the middle area of the garden with rose petals sprinkled about the ground. A large balloon arch of white and gold arcs over what seems to be small semi-circle of little flower bouquets with a small white rug placed delicately in the middle of it all. There's two words that spell themselves out in blocky letter lights.

MARRY ME?

It takes you awhile to register the scene before you, your heart thrumming faster and faster each time you scan it.

"Aw man, you found it too early..." Meguru's voice sulks from behind you.

Whipping your head around, you yelp at your boyfriend's sudden appearance, making him grin. You think you need to take a pause from all the excitement you've been absorbed in for the past few hours, a new one being blossomed at this very moment.

There truly was never a dull moment with Bachira Meguru.

Wordlessly, his smile turns less playful and more tender when you can't find the words to say. He takes your hand in his own grasp and gently leads you to the scene before you, getting down on one knee and pulling out a small box from his back pocket.

"(L/N) (Y/N)," Meguru starts slowly, his voice displaying the utmost sincerety he's able to muster and possibly the most serious you've ever seen him. "Will you do me the honor of marrying me and being with me for the rest of our lives?"

With someone as special and as enigmatic as Meguru, it really doesn't take you much debating to choose your answer. Someone like this only comes once in a lifetime, and you decide to cherish it as much as you can in this one.

You only live once after all.

You nod, whispering a "Yes..."

Meguru's smile stretches wide before he shouts out in happiness, jumping in the air. You laugh loudly at his antics before he plucks out the ring and puts it on your finger, letting you admire it before sharing a loving kiss. The security guards that oversee the garden let out claps of celebration and a couple of shouts of approval, making you and him laugh at the accidental audience.

Meguru goes to wipe away a fallen tear from your cheek before kissing your forehead gently. He suddenly goes near your ear and whispers,

"This still means you're 'it', by the way."

— sincerely yours, itoshi rin.

Rin always thought he was meant to be alone.

His own parents tended more of their attention to Sae, and Sae himself left Rin to his own devices when Rin was only eleven, just barely hatching into puberty. Much of life Rin had to learn the harder way, where he had no forewarnings from anyone and he had to be taught his own lessons. It was his own self-discipline that got him through much of his younger years that made him so sustainable solely by his own foundations.

Even during games, he tended to lean on his own instincts on what he thought was best rather than relying on his teammates for the best play possible. If it were legible, Rin would've taken an opportunity to play 1v11 in a match since he carried the majority of his teams anyway with his prodigal skills.

He thrived best in an isolated environment anyway. And Rin felt okay with it. No person is forever anyways, not even his own blood.

Until you came along.

It was in his second year during college. It was you and your stupid owl keychain on your stupid backpack that accidentally let out your stupid second volume of Ciguatera right in front of him. It was the stupid way how his hands lingered on the book just a little more than he should've. It was the stupid way that his eyes always gravitated to you during lectures. It was the stupid way that you and him were assigned as partners for a project. It was the stupid way your eyes lit up when you found out he played soccer.

It was the stupid way he felt able to breathe the air much more comfortable around you the more he spent time with you. It was the stupid way the days felt duller when he didn't see you on campus. It was the stupid way his heart fluttered when you laughed, when you smiled, when you said his name.

It was all so... stupid.

A feeling he never felt before had been born from your existence. Itoshi Rin usually had a pretty solid grasp on things he could control, but he didn't know how to handle such a feeling of affection because he hadn't ever felt it before, and it felt too slippery to try and get a firm grip of. You shook his core, and Rin hated it because only one other person in his life was able to do such a thing.

Learning it was best to do so after his last lesson to keep himself safe, he attempted to push you away before his heart broke a second time. Yet somehow, Rin felt more drawn to your pull every time he tried to create space between you and him.

They say that distance makes the heart grow fonder. Rin never really gave the feeling such thought in regards to you until he found himself dismal and in a grey area again without seeing your face at least once, but still ever so stubborn, he thought this was best. This is what he was used to—being alone.

"I don't have time for you anymore," he said to you one evening as he dropped you off at your dorm.

You had turned back to him with the saddest eyes he'd ever seen, but with a small smile still on your face. Without asking for a reason, you merely nodded. "I see. Well... goodbye then."

Rin tried to ignore the way his heart had clenched so tightly as he watched you disappear into your dorm hall without glancing back at him one more time.

But the lines blurred. It wasn't him being alone that he reclused himself to during your absence from his life... but rather loneliness. He was back to being lonely, not alone.

He had to go back to watching movies by himself, conversing with his own thoughts instead of another voice. He had to go back to eating meals by himself without having a foot nudge his own under a table. He had to go back and stop looking for a specific pair of bright eyes and a wishful smile in the stands during games.

He went back to a world of grey of his doing. All because he was terrified to let another person handle his own heart. And he was doing a good job at altering his life back to the way it was, until you did what you usually did best and butt in and splash color all over his monochromatic canvas again.

It was before an away game, in the common-area just before he boarded the coach bus. There, just before you turned the corner, he spotted you saying goodbye to someone, where you had accidentally made eye contact with turquoise eyes that seemed to shine for the first time in a long time at your appearance before him. He couldn't stop himself from staring, feeling relieved that you were still within his radius despite him being the one to create space.

You lingered there for a moment, before swallowing and mouthing to him with that stupid gentle, forgiving smile of yours,

"Good luck. Do well."

Rin sprinted off the bus the moment they were back on campus after winning by a landslide due to his off-the-wall playing. His feet carried him to your dorm, where he rapidly knocked on your door despite it being near midnight. You opened the door to him and despite hating it when people touched him, Rin had held you so tightly with hitched breaths, whispering "I'm sorry..." over and over again into your ear.

And came Itoshi Rin's first love, blossomed on a random Friday night.

His only love at that. He can't imagine the ring in his pocket being for anyone else.

A couple years older now, he walks alongside you on the beach that he used to ponder about whatnot on as he listens to you talk about the latest gossip at work. This is the rhythm of how your dynamic usually works—you talk, Rin listens. He likes it that way. It's an adequate balance.

The air is cooling now, now that autumn is approaching. You're huddled in a light jacket (Rin's, respectively), and gently warm your hands by rubbing them together to let the created friction emit some heat. Rin wordlessly grabs your hands and cups them together, embellishing a better warmth from his own breath instead of letting you do your own work.

Your eyes soften as you let him do his own antics, his own gaze coming to meet yours as his hands envelope yours and clasps them tightly to keep the heat trapped in your skin.

"Is that better?" he asks quietly, eyes looking for any sign of your approval.

You nod contently. "Mm hm."

"I told you to dress warm," he says, sighing, "next time, bring gloves."

You know Rin long enough to know such a tone of phrase isn't necessarily scolding you, but rather cautioning you out of genuine care. It wasn't his fault his voice had a natural cutting-edge tone, but you've grown accustomed to the little bits of adjustments he does to indicate he's not being cold.

The soft sand feels more pliable than usual. Perhaps it was the heavier layers you wear, but you find yourself sinking into it more easily. Rin helps stabilize you by gripping your hand in his own, noticing your imbalance.

"It's just a little further," he murmurs softly, a little shy when he squeezes your hand in his jacket pocket.

He was never able to quite fully get over his fluster around you. You made his head fill with cotton, his heart pound a little harder, whenever you were within his vicinity. Even after six years of being together as an official couple, he never was able to fully get over that high school crush feeling. Maybe that's a good thing, though. Maybe it was meant to be that way. It was probably life's way of telling him that you were made to last for him, as only you were able to emit such a feeling for him when no one else could.

They say the average relationship lasts two years and three months. Yet somehow, Rin has never gotten over the feeling of falling in love with you since the moment he spotted you for the first time during a home game. It's been six years and ten months since that incident, and he figures that if such a feeling hasn't expired yet, it might never will.

The trail of candles suddenly appear before you to your surprise. The sand trail that it frames is the only part of the beach that is untouched by feet, as though it was waiting for you to imprint on it. On the other side of the trail lies a half-circular structure of individual white roses, all standing up right from the sand, along with blanket and a basket of wine and chocolates.

"Oh my," you mumble quietly, clearly taken aback at the rather romantic scene. While your boyfriend always did the most when it came to your dates, this was another level of sentimental. Be it the isolation from other people on the beach or the sunset horizon in the background, you feel a wave of solitude when Rin trails you down the path.

"This is rather new," you say to him suddenly, your eyes wide with worry. "Um, I didn't forget something big, did I? We celebrated your birthday... our anniversary isn't for another month..." you count down all the possible major events that you and Rin celebrated together as a couple on your fingers, but Rin shakes his head.

"No," he interjects. "This... i-is something completely different."

You blink owlishly and tilt your head, leaning your face closer to examine your boyfriend's blushed cheeks.

"Oh, are you proposing?" you ask inquisitively with a sparking coy smile, as if it was the plainest thing in the world.

Rin tends to be rather flat with his emotions, but he can't help but gawk when you guess correctly. He supposes his reaction gives his plans away, since you burst out laughing when a choked noise comes out of his throat.

"So I'm correct?" you ask through giggles.

"How'd you know?!" Rin asks, his blush now spreading rapidly on his face, the back of his neck absolutely burning with heat. Upset that all the plans he kept repeating to himself for the entire last three days was suddenly disrupted by you picking up context clues, he feels his ego crumbling before you, going back to square one where he'd feel that familiar flutter in his chest.

"Meguru told me a week ago when we all went to that one bar," you mention. "He had a little too much to drink and ended up accidentally spilling the beans."

A vein pops on Rin's forehead with avid irritation, jaw gritting as the phantom of a familiar bob-cut throws a peace sign in his mind. This is what's bound to happen when Rin asks for help on a major life event from the one person that can't keep his mouth shut even with a gun to his temple. But Bachira was the only person in the friend group that had been married so far to who was essentially his twin flame, meaning he was ultimately the last resort.

Rin thinks that he should've just asked someone on the street instead, now that it's clear his decision went awry.

Stupid shitty, fucking lukewarm bob-cut... Rin curses in his mind, a fire burning behind his eyes. Next time I see him, I'll—

"My answer is 'yes', by the way, Rin."

Rin's violent daydreams are suddenly broken when your voice cuts through. Your sweet, supple voice that's able to calm him down just by the sound of his name falling from his lips. Your superpower, he thinks.

He suddenly loosens his fist that he was making in his hand and looks at you. Clear, smiling eyes gaze at his wide ones with affirmation so distinctly held within them. All the tension he had been feeling up until this very moment instantaneously dissolves, running through his now-loosened fist like sand from the beach you and him are posted on.

He wants to grab your face and kiss you with as much strength he can muster. Wants to whisper sweet nothings and loving promises into lips he's tasted over and over again, yet just can't get enough of. Wants to hold you so tightly in his arms to the point where you meld into each other.

But, nevertheless, he holds himself back. There's still something he has to do.

"At least let me say the damn thing first," he mutters and finally gets down on one knee, his gaze never faltering against yours.

You giggle, nodding and letting him take one of your hands as his unoccupied one goes to fetch the ring box from his back pocket.

Rin was, and still is, not a man of many words. He says what he needs to say the moment he needs to say them. He feels as though he can't waste his time on incessant words, but this time, he feels as though four words can carry all the meaning he needs to convey.

He swallows thickly, presenting a luscious, glimmering ring at you, noticing the way your eyes become hypnotized with the specialized gem settled in the middle of the band.

"(Y/N)," Rin states, smoothing over your precious ring finger. "Will you marry me?

— forever yours, shidou ryusei.

"Ryu, you're gonna get another ticket!" you yell out through the helmet as the motorcycle's speedometer's needle rapidly ticks up. Your arms wrap securely around his waist as he laughs off your concern, his grip on the handles tightening when he squeezes the throttle grip.

You know Ryusei loves to live life to its fullest—its the core of his way of living life. He's irrational and explosive, impulsive and eccentric. Anything that makes him tick is what captures his full attention.

Unfortunately for you, your complete opposite behaviors is uniquely what made him so magnetized by you. Unlike Ryusei, who tends to stand out wildly in a crowd, be it his unconventional haircut or his obnoxious thoughts that he just can't keep to himself, you're demure and quiet. You keep to yourself at all times and you think that you're quite plain-looking. You don't sport wild hair or scattered piercings, nor do you remove your filter and say what you want to say, so you don't understand how someone like you have a spotlight in Ryusei's mind.

But you do, somehow. And you don't think that he's too intent on shifting it to anyone else soon.

So now you're here. It's eleven at night with an near-empty highway before you, backpacking your boyfriend that your parents heavily disapprove of in the middle of the night because he snatched you up from your apartment and told you to follow him. He tossed you his spare helmet for his motorcycle and off you and him drove into the night.

You should've known better, you really should've, considering it was Ryusei after all that you were dealing with. He'll do anything that his mind tells him to without thinking of the consequences. You can't think of another person in the world who has little to no judgement about his actions.

"Don't worry 'bout it, dolly!" he guffaws from his helmet. He lurches forward and you squeal when the motorcycle's speed suddenly jumps. "You know I'd never hurt ya!"

You very much want to protest against his claim, considering he's forced you to tag along with extreme experiences that have put you scraping at Death's door, but every time, Ryusei always tugs you back to reality, to him. Because your his before anyone else's, even the Reaper himself.

"Where are we even going?!" you ask out loud, trying to leer over his shoulder for any sort of familiar direction. To no avail, you're only met with the empty road of the highway, only lit by the streetlights. "I have a meeting really early tomorrow!"

"Fuck your meeting!" Ryusei hollers, giving another one of those joker-like laughs. "Fuck your job in general, but fuck your meeting specifically!"

You know Ryusei's hatred for your corporate job. Blame it on him hating the mundane or how you rant to him about your trashy bosses, he keeps telling you to ditch the position over and over again, even asking you if you quit every time you bring it up. You know that it's just him trying to be a good boyfriend, but when you try to bring up the fact that the job market for your skills is trash, he only shrugs and just tells you why even bother with working. His salary as a soccer player is more than enough to cover you and him.

"That doesn't answer my question!" you shout back through the loud roaring of the motorcycle's engine. "Where are we going?!"

"You'll see! You need to trust me!" he yells from over his shoulder. You can see those rows of menacing pearly whites from the shaded visor and your stomach stirs a little. From excitement or anxiety, that was up to fate to decide. You've placed your trust in Ryusei's hands a plethora of time and you still haven't gotten a good grasp of its pattern of consequences.

You merely sigh in defeat, placing your chin on his shoulder and placing your whims at his hands, letting him take reign of your late-night journey.

From a desolate parking lot, he introduces you to a lone hill, where a wooden staircase at the bottom of it waits for you and him to carry you to the top of it. It's rather a rough journey, with you counting a total of eleven flights of stairs that you have to take up in the dead of night where you were wringed out of all the energy you had from the day. Ryusei wastes no time, leaping through the first three with no problem. He waits for you as you heave through them at your own pace, your legs already starting to turn numb.

"Took you long enough," Ryusei remarks, not even waiting for a reply from you before he begins to climb another three.

By the time you've reached the sixth flight, he's already done with all of them to your discontent. He calls for you to hurry up from atop the stairs and you flicker back a frustrated middle finger back at him, to which he only answers back with an obnoxious laugh.

"Oop, watch your step, doll," he cautions as he catches you last minute before you face-plant on the floor when you trip on your last stair, your legs shaky from the exhaustion. "What took you so long?" he asks tauntingly.

You shove him off of you, deciding it was better to lean on a tree. "Screw you..."

"Mmh, you can do that later, if you'd like," he murmurs flirtatiously in your ear, laughing viciously as you swat at him. He lets you catch your breath before tugging at your sleeve and telling you to hurry. "Your surprise is waiting, c'mon."

Leave it to Shidou Ryusei to plan something spontaneous in the dead of the night. It was unfortunately very like him to do something as erratic as this, and you just hope whatever he has in store doesn't involve you facing a near-death experience like the one time he brought you bungee-jumping straight after work.

Yawning, you nod and follow him with fatigued limbs. It takes your tired eyes a little while to adjust to what Ryusei is pointing at, but the heaviness disappears the moment you understand why he brought you here so late.

The hill somehow overviews nearly all of the city and the lights it gleams out into the night. Your breath catches itself in your throat as you take in the glorious sight of the stars in the sky and the array of lights that dance about the city's skyline. The taller skyscrapers in the background loom over the rest of the city like guardians and the cars of the cars make them look like little fairies dancing about.

It's a gorgeous view that you knew you would've never seen if it weren't for the interference in your normally-mundane life that is Shidou Ryusei.

A pair of arms goes to wrap themselves around your waist and bring you closer to a chest. Ryusei settles himself nicely in the divot between your shoulder and neck, inhaling a bit of your leftover perfume. "You like?"

You nod, eyes taking in the breathtaking view in full depth, scanning every inch that your field of vision lets you see. "Yes," you breathe.

"Good," he mutters, "Discovered this place randomly a few weeks ago after a post-celebration. I thought you might like it."

"It's gorgeous, Ryu," you warmly whisper, your heart melting a little at his consideration.

In any frontal aspect, no one would expect the Shidou Ryusei to be in a relationship, let alone be good at handling one. But after being with him for quite awhile, with your third anniversary coming up soon, you found a side to him that would be deemed almost unnatural to the unsuspecting eye. Underneath those layers of brashness, you were able to find a softer side of him, one that'd only be revealed to you and you alone.

Sure, there were times when his usual image would shine through when you were with him, most prominent when there were others around that were eyeing you ("Take a look this way and I'll bust your head in, bud!" he had shouted with a wicked smile to a passerby one time that looked at you with just the slightest bit too much of intent), but behind closed doors, a tenderness revealed itself dedicated for you.

Because in all honesty—Ryusei was a good boyfriend. Audacious and obnoxious, sure, but good. There was a reason why your relationship has lasted this long, after all. He'd come at your beck and call when you needed him most with no questions asked. He'd offer you advice whenever you complained about something, knowing that you didn't really care about sympathy. He always remembered important dates, even the miniscule ones like what date the new season of your favorite show released just so he can watch it with you.

That layer that only you got to see was the prime reason as to why you returned his affection in equal fervor.

You begin to feel his lips peppering a small path up the side of the neck, letting out a brief yelp when you feel his sharp teeth graze the lobe of your ear. You can feel him grin against your skin.

"You wanna elope with me, doll?" he asks suddenly.

Spine stiffening, you look at him from the side of your now-widened eyes. "Huh?"

"You heard me," he shrugs nonchalantly, as if it doesn't bother him. And it probably doesn't, knowing that he'll always have a way out eventually to get what he wants.

"I—" you start, your words suddenly knotting in your throat. "Ryu... that's a big decision."

"Well duh!" he exclaims. "That's the point! We gotta make it dramatic as possible. That's the whole fun of it."

"Are you only asking me to do this just so you can get some weird spark of adrenaline?" you ask, brows furrowing in anticipation.

Ryusei snorts. "You think that lowly of me? Hell no. I wanna marry you, for real. It's just..." For the first time since you've known him... you hear Shidou Ryusei falter. His head hunches a bit, a frown forming itself on his lips.

"Your parents will never approve of me, we both know that," he says, his grip around you tightening as though you'd slip away from him at any moment. "I'd never get their blessing."

Your eyes soften a bit as he stares intently at the view in front of you. The way his voice goes so quiet confirms the genuineness behind his words and you know what he says about your parents is true. Yes, he loves you and yes, he'll be able to provide for you, but when your parents learned about his reputation on the field as a soccer player, they exactly weren't the most pleased to know that your boyfriend was willing to start fights with whoever dared to cross him.

But... despite it all, despite all the headlines and the rumors, Shidou Ryusei was still yours. You still held him close despite all the challenges that came your way just for being at his side. It was that singular layer of himself that he'd unsheathe just for you to let you know that you mattered to him just as much as soccer did. While the questions of why were still left unanswered, since as much as you knew him, Ryusei was still an enigma to you, his actions spoke loud and true. Reckless as he was, at the end of the day, he was so, so good to you.

Sure, you could also get such loving from some plucky nobody on the street, but Ryusei's form of love was different. It was vibrant, avid with colors and explosions of life, you don't think another person could dare paint themselves in the colors of Shidou Ryusei.

You could go about your mundane life. Settle down with someone that was just as enticing as you were, have a family, keep working at your corporate job, retire peacefully...

... but truly, where was the fun in that?

You don't think you can live life in that manner after meeting Ryusei. You don't think you should.

"... are you really serious about this?" you mutter softly. "Do you really intend on marrying me?"

Ryusei cocks a brow, as if you've just asked him if the sky is blue. "No shit I do. You think all those times me screaming 'This one's for you' right before I score a goal were for nothing?"

You sigh with a smile, memories of playbacks of your boyfriend shrieking out your name on the field when the ball lands in the net running through your mind and how you had to hide your face at times in embarrassment when he pointed a painted fingernail in your direction in the VIP section.

"Do you swear you'll treat me well?" you ask as your hand finds its way to his own.

Ryusei interlocks his fingers with yours. "When have I not?"

Your heart squeezes. "And do you swear that you'll love me forever?"

You can just hear the smirk in his voice. Suddenly, he removes his hands and repositions them on your waist, your feet suddenly not being rooted to the ground anymore.

"'Till death to us part, sweetness!" he shouts, twirling you around with his strength.

You yell at him to put you down, fists going to hit his arms as he nears the edge of the fencepost. "Okay, okay, I get it! Ryu, I'll fall—Christ, Ryusei put me down! I'll marry you, just put me down!"

Eventually, he does and his laughter dies down. Suddenly, your cheeks are being squished and your lips meet his in a semi-violent manner, teeth nearly clashing as Ryusei kisses you hard and passionately.

He holds you there for a minute, tasting your lips over and over again with his before he breaks apart from you and gives you a wide grin, smirking at your flustered breathlessness.

"Call off work," he says, giving a wet kiss on your forehead. "We're going ring shopping tomorrow first thing."

— promisingly yours, michael kaiser.

"I hate you."

... is what Kaiser said to you out of the blue one day, completely unprompted. You were standing at the entrance of his apartment, some food for him in hand, your journey to travel to his abode ending on a rather oddly sour note.

Despite the fact that it was him that asked you to come over to "hang out" at his place while he was off-season, Kaiser wanted to push you away, to get you as far away from him as possible. He could no longer stand to look at your face without his gut churning and his head spinning. Similar in the way that he'd watch his opponent score a goal during a high-intensity game, something about your presence made him feel queasy, as though there were a storm brewing up inside of him.

It wasn't always this way, which was the weird part. Or perhaps, for a better wording, wasn't always this intense. You and him had been friends since childhood, after he wandered into your father's bakery with the intent to steal to survive. You had graciously given him some spare bread rolls and told him that you'll see him later, in which his return to your father's bakery had bloomed a friendship. Leave it to the neighborhood baker's kid to befriend even the oddest of children, even the one that had a scrappy jersey and bruised knees with a busted lip that would send warning signs to most children. But no, you had to come in and swoop Kaiser into your life like the saint you were.

The problem is that Kaiser didn't know how a sickening feeling like this developed. Was it when you had baked him a small cake for one of his birthdays? Or perhaps when you started showing up to his soccer games to support him? He didn't know and that's what pissed him off—that he didn't have a definite answer to when this feeling started. He let go of that irritation quickly, however, choosing to dwell on the present and future instead of the past since he knew he couldn't change it even if he did have a framework of when. It wasn't like he could go back into the past and stop this horrid feeling from being born.

It was swiftly replaced instead by an annoyance of some kind. He'd get a tugging feeling at his chest whenever you smiled at him or whenever your hands would brush against his. His head would start to spin whenever you were near him, your perfume mingling in the air. The older you and him grew, the more intense such a feeling became and it became a more avid distraction as the years passed.

Like the time you had been sick and missed out on an extremely important match that would bring him to the German World Cup. He remembers seeing the empty seat he reserved for you and how he kept looking back at it during each play. He'd score a goal in a miraculous play and would whip his head around to see if you witnessed him in such a glory, but then a frustration would stir up within him at the air that lingered in your seat. He remembers being more destructive on the field that day.

Or perhaps the time he had taken you on a trip abroad to New York, just you and him, where amidst all the sparkling billboards, one of his own sponsored by Adidas posted on the Times Tower, Kaiser's handsome face overseeing the business of Times Square. It was hard not to miss, if anything, and he got upset that you only complimented it with a mere "That's so cool!" as though the man standing right next to you wasn't the face for one of the top soccer teams in the world.

Or when poor Ness had to witness him throw a tantrum in his apartment when you texted him that you had to cancel plans since you were going on a date one evening. Plates and glassware were broken, Kaiser's nails going to rip some of the canvases of the paintings that were hung up on the wall.

"A date?! A motherfucking date?! What the hell?!" he had shouted as another plate made contact with the wall, shattering it into pieces. "(Y/N) doesn't go on dates?! What the fuck is this!"

In his fit of fury, thoughts of all kinds had raced through his mind, and Ness had to use all of his strength to make sure Kaiser didn't hunt to the poor soul that you had a date with down. Thankfully, you had called him later that night and asked to go to his place, telling him your date had stood you up.

Ness had never seen Kaiser more serene after he ended the call with you, a content smile on his face despite the destruction around him.

Either way, you made Kaiser's body weaker with just the presence of you around him. And nothing made Kaiser hate himself more than feeling weak, hating how he was reduced that small child on the kitchen counter, staring up helplessly at a monster that he was half-created from. Your very essence made his core tighten and a heat bloom all over his cheeks, something that sickened him.

So he hates you. He hates you unbelievably so much for being able to bring him to his knees so pathetically, begging for your attention and your care. A twisted sense of shame would linger to him whenever he was reminded of your existence—as though you were his kryptonite.

He thinks this is the worse it's ever been—now that you and him are fully grown adults where maturity has blossomed something within you. You look more beautiful than usual lately, Kaiser notices. You're more confident and headstrong, your wit a little quicker. An aura of radiance seems to glimmer from you and you just have this magnetic pull that attracts many people toward your direction.

In a sinister sense, Kaiser wants to keep you all to himself. Wants to keep you trapped in his hold and keep you caged so he can admire you alone, away from prying eyes that might have similar intentions. No one should deserve to have such a beauty in their life, let alone gaze upon it. He's God's chosen emperor, only he should be allowed to have such a pretty, loving thing at his side.

But he can't obviously. You wouldn't be okay with it. And as much as Kaiser takes great pleasure in seeing faces of despair and misery from those he wants to bring down, he doesn't like it when you get upset at him. Loathes it, even, when you disapprove of something he does.

He hates you for making him so vulnerable, for showing him a side of himself that he doesn't want to acknowledge.

You blink blankly at his irritated face, raising a brow at such a statement.

But you nonchalantly shrug, used to Kaiser's peculiar behavior. Surely something from earlier must've pissed him off, which is why you leapt to your feet when he essentially commanded you to come over.

"Whatever man," you sigh, shoving your way through into his apartment without a care in the world. "Tell me something new for a change."

Kaiser opens his mouth to respond, brows furrowed, and ready to tell you to piss off and get the hell out, not wanting to be around you any longer, but words dissolve on his tongue when he watches you whistle a tune and unpack the package of food you bought along the way on the kitchen island. It's an oddly domestic scene.

You hold up a plastic container, its contents making Kaiser's eye grow wider.

"Look," you cheer, opening up and holding a stick of seasoned bread crust. "Even got your favorite!"

He swallows thickly, feeling that weakness come to his knees again when you give that dazzling smile of yours. Call him a masochist, but even though Kaiser hates the way you make him feel like this, he can't help but savor it.

So he's here now. A few years later, on the rooftop of an ancient Parisian building with a white carpet before him as he stands on end of a white carpet. The other side of it, the elevator to the rooftop.

Blue rose petals that mimic the tattoo on his neck scatter the area with a flower arch stretching over the small stage he's on. The Eiffel Tower oversees the entirety of Paris, its lights glowing amidst the evening sky. The breeze is just perfect, Kaiser just hopes everything else will go according to plan as he stares intently at the elevator.

"Ness, it feels a little tight..." you mutter, trying to tug at the blindfold that covers your eyes.

"But you can't see anything, right?" Ness asks as his grip on your shoulders stays firm.

"No, but—"

"Good!" he retorts happily. "Don't worry, we've only got a few more floors to go."

Your lips warble. You feel as though this is somehow a weird murder set up Ness has planned for you, possibly waiting for the right moment to just shove you off the building while you weren't able to see. He always did happen to hold a small grudge against you, after all, since he had to practically fight for Kaiser's attention whereas you got it so naturally.

"Where's Micha?" you ask as the floors continue to ding out from inside of the elevator.

"Somewhere," Ness singsongs out, making the feeling in your gut churn.

You stay quiet, trying to think of an escape plan to get yourself out of this mess, but suddenly you hear the elevator doors shift and feel a cool breeze.

"Watch your step now," he says from behind you, lighting pushing you forward while making sure your heel didn't get caught in the little gap of the elevator and its doors. He promised that Kaiser that everything about tonight had to go right, and if he dared to mess up anything, Kaiser would have his head. So Ness, ten times more attentive than usual, gently leads you out of the elevator and onto the rooftop.

"Where are we?" you ask him, your head turning around rapidly to try and examine your surroundings despite the black blindfold. " Are we outside?"

"Leave us be, Ness," a familiar voice says.

The heavy feeling on your chest suddenly lifts, letting you breathe a little easier now that you know that your life has been spared from Ness's hands. Kaiser's voice, though it may bring impending doom to many, somehow had the ability to ease you and your worries.

Ness goes to unravel the blindfold from your eyes, letting the warm glow of the many candles before you light up your field of vision. He leaves promptly, going back down the elevator and leaving you alone with the blurry figure some meters before you. Your vision clears eventually, and the scene unfurls before you much more vividly.

There stands Kaiser at the end of a magnificent carpet that tells you to come his way, dressed in a dark blue button up and black slacks with matching dress shoes. Ever the handsome fellow, you softly smile at him as you walk slowly down the carpet, never breaking eye contact with him.

It was good to make you wear white for tonight, Kaiser thinks to himself as he gets hypnotized by the way your dress flows behind you. This almost feels like practice to what's to come.

"This doesn't look like a dinner," you say softly as you take Kaiser's hand to help you up the platform.

"No, but it's something much better," he replies, a tightness in his voice that he tries to hide. "I hope."

"You hope?" you repeat, brow raising.

"It's all going to depend on you, so don't ruin it for the both of us," Kaiser grumbles before you snort out a laugh.

Getting a hint of what's to come, you allow him to take your hand and watch as he gets down on one knee before you.

Kaiser strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, bringing it to his lips and kissing it softly, all the while gazing at you.

"You're the only person that's able to bring me to my knees, you know that?" he professes quietly.

You can feel a hitch in your throat when you nod, a heat forming on your cheeks.

Kaiser pauses for a bit before continuing. "I hate you. You know."

"Yes," you sigh gently, thinking about all the times that Kaiser spewed out the words whenever he got annoyed with you. "You make it very aware."

He chuckles, and you can't help but laugh as well.

"But I hate you for a good reason. You make me weak, you make my head spin with every action you do, with every word you say," continues Kaiser eventually. "You know me better than I know myself. And I don't know whether it's been in each other's lives for so long or... or if I just get so vulnerable around you."

You bite your lip in apprehension, trying to regulate your breathing as the words just flow from Kaiser's lips as he pulls out a white ring box from his pocket.

"I want to feel that way around you forever, even if it might kill me," Kaiser declares. He slowly opens the ring box to reveal a handcrafted ring that glimmers with a large sapphire gem in the middle whose blue hue reminds you of someone all the familiar. "I want you to keep making me feel so stupidly small, to keep putting me in my place when I need it. And I want to relish in it forever, just as long as its you. I want you all to myself, because only you, (Y/N) (L/N), can do this to me."

"Micha," you choke out his nickname with a voice just slightly above a whisper. The way he looks at you so dearly makes you want to burst into tears. You don't think anyone else has ever looked in your direction is such an adoring way.

Kaiser takes a deep breath, his nerves easing themselves to a balance as he swallows his concern away, letting himself linger in the moment.

"Will you marry me?" he asks you tenderly.

He thinks that the tears that cascade down your perfect face gives him all the answer he needs, but his heart nearly leaps out of his chest when you whisper back,

"... yes."

a/n ; ITS DONE !!!! oooohhh i'm so tired asdfllksadfk my ass hurts from all the sitting

but hi if you've made it this far! im thinking of making a part two to this with a couple of more characters, but wow i will not lie this took some life out of me lolol but regardless! thank you for reading, reblogs and comments are always noticed and appreciated (っ´ω`c)♡ !!

[mentalhomosexual]

‎‧₊˚✧[𝘚𝘬𝘻 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 ]✧˚₊‧

ᯓ★ Pairing: Straykids x Fem reader

ᯓ★Tags: cumming inside,Minho calls reader a slut, just smut with no plot, they're all horny idk 🤷🏽‍♀️

˖࣪ ⊹𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯⊹ ࣪ ˖

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────

Chan could always tell when you were ovulating...imo I feel he would be the kind of boyfriend that would like to keep track of your cycle so he could know when he needs to buy you snacks and spoil you completely rotten BUT when it comes to ovulation that's a different story. He loves to tease you and see how riled up you get, like coming behind you and kissing your neck, knowing how much you love it, he whispers into your ear, pressing his clothed bulge against you but the moment you start to press back and softly moan he pulls away, leaving you hornier than you already were. :'(

Don't worry though, he'll fuck you after. And he's rough. he knows that's how you like it when your ovulating, your face pushed into a pillow as he pulls your hips back to meet his.

"Fuckk..it feels good doesn't it baby?"

˖࣪ ⊹𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘩𝘰⊹ ࣪ ˖

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────

He knows that your ovulating but he makes you wait for it, he pretends not to notice your lustfull gazes at him or your lingering touches, he can't help it he just loves to tease you, but he can only deny you so long before he wants you just as bed. He fucks you relentlessly. Face shoved into a pillow with your ass up, you love being fucked dumb by him, wheather you're ovulating or not. Harsh slaps to your ass as he tells you how much of a slut you are. True paradise. 🤌🏽

"Such a slut aren't you? want me to breed your pretty pussy, baby?~"

˖࣪ ⊹𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘣𝘪𝘯⊹ ࣪ ˖

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────

He secretly loves it. You get so worked up just seeing his muscles. he makes sure to wear sleeveless shirts and tank tops around you just to see you fight back demons, he lets you do whatever you want because he knows how rapid you become during ovulation, he lays back with an arm behind his head as you ride him. He tells you how beautiful you are ontop of him and you swear you see stars...maybe one baby wouldn't hurt ? 🤩

"so pretty baby—fuck, you feel so good"

˖࣪ ⊹𝘏𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘯⊹ ࣪

─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

Of course, Hyunjin would give you whatever you wanted during ovulation. He secretly likes it too, 🤫. He's hitting it from the back, your fucked out moans filling the room, your turn your head back and start mumbling words.

"What's the matter baby? Talk to me" he grins as he sees your face, your practically drooling on yourself.

"Mmm...take the condom off...wanna feel all of you~" you whine, He grins at your request, he does as he's told before immediately sliding back inside you, your eyes rolling back at his quickening pace, the tip of his cock kissing all your sweet spots. This was a surprise to Hyunjin because you're usually so on top of using protection and judging by the way you're rolling back to meet his thrust, moaning and whining like a baby and telling him to fuck you raw...oh you're definitely ovulating, it turns him on seeing you so desperate for his cum like this.

"Such a nasty girl, huh? Wanting me to fuck you raw"

He says lowly as he leans down and kisses your neck, You nod as you push back against him more.

"Oh my goddd...fuck I'm gonna cum, baby please~" You whine as you bury your face into the pillow.

"Please what?" He teases, leaning up against the shell of your ear, whispering into it knowing full well what you're asking for, He just likes to hear you say it.

˖࣪ ⊹𝘏𝘢𝘯⊹ ࣪ ˖

─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

This sex addict doesn't even notice a change. You two fuck so often that when you randomly want to go a couple more rounds than usual he thinks nothing of it.

"pleasee~ want you to fuck me againnn" you whine as you claw at his back, you've both cum like 4 times already and he's becoming sensitive but like I said, He doesn't stop. Overstimulating himself in your pussy is like a dream to him, he could do it for the rest of his life and die happy.

"Mm, gonna milk me fucking dry aren't you, baby?~"

˖࣪ ⊹𝘍𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘹⊹ ࣪ ˖

─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

He would be a obvious to it at first, as he cuddles with you he notices that you groan when his head shifts on your chest...he look at you with his cute little concerned face before speaking

"What's wrong? Am I hurting you?" He asks softly, you chuckle and Shake your head

"No you're fine, my breast are just a bit sensitive..I'm ovulating" you admit and it all strarts to make sense why you've been so clingy and sensitive lately. His cheeks flush a light pink.

"Oh, I'm sorry, love" he apologizes as he pulls you closer to him, he kinda feels bad for not noticing sooner. He apologizes by burying his face in between those beautiful thighs of yours, eating you out till you cry 💖

"You always taste so good angel, cum on my face one more time, yeah?"

˖࣪ ⊹𝘚𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘮𝘪𝘯⊹ ࣪ ˖

─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

He knows something is up when you become extremely clingy. It's something you always tend to do when that time comes around. You sit straddled on his lap as you softly make out, he doesn't question nor deny you when you're like this, who is he to turn down mind-blowing sex? He listens to everything you babble to him as he fucks into you.

"You want me to cum inside of you? I wanna hear you beg for it first~" He chuckles menacingly at your pathetic high pitched pleas.

˖࣪ ⊹𝘑𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯⊹ ࣪ ˖

─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

This nasty boy operates as if he can ovulate too. It doesn't matter what you're wearing or how you look, he's gonna get rock hard just looking at you. You're doing laundry, throwing the clothes in the washer and you feel him sneak up behind you, already feeling his bulge press on your lower back.

"I just wanna bend you over this machine and fuck you right now" he whispers into your ear, nibbling on the lobe, you feel him push into you more, you bite your lip as his hands come up to knead your breast, you sigh in pleasure before pushing your ass against him.

"Then why don't you do it then?~" you grin as you turn you head back to meet his gaze, you certainly don't have to tell him twice, he fucks you like there's no tomorrow, like he'll never see you again. It's enough to leave your legs wobbly for a couple days but it's worth it

"Can you feel me deep inside you, baby? Gonna let me cum inside of you?"

© property of mentalhomosexual, do not repost or copy this work. Always ask permission before taking inspiration

[oneofstarkskids]

girl back home

pairings: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 1822 (new record?? 🤭)

genre: a lil bit of everything, but mostly fluff. you know.

warnings: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR CAPTAIN AMERICA: BRAVE NEW WORLD ‼️

It was already February, and you were long overdue for some sunshine. The snow is always beautiful, especially with twinkling lights reflecting off of it. But those lights are gone now, and all you're left with is this chill to your bones.

You cling tightly to Bucky's arm, watching your steps carefully. "You okay?" He asks with a pink nose.

You can't speak without your jaw shaking violently, so you simply nod.

"I told ya' you should've brought gloves," he says with a know-it-all essence. The low temperatures must've been slowly freezing your brain cells because you didn't even make a snide remark.

The two of you finally reach your apartment building and make your way up to your floor. As soon as you're in the door, he takes your coat for you. "And you wanted ice cream," he snickers before hanging the coats and starting on a pot of coffee.

"I'll admit, I've had better ideas," you say before hurrying over to the messy pile of blankets on the couch, desperate for warmth.

After a few moments behind the counter, he walks over carrying your favorite mug. The one with the little yellow duck on it.

"Here ya' go, doll."

You give him a grateful peck on the cheek and grab the mug, careful not to burn yourself.

He moves to scooch in close to you, but his phone rings right on que. He sighs before pulling it out of his back pocket, "Hello?"

There's a pause and Bucky's face falls. "Not really a good time," he says with annoyance.

After a much longer pause, he nods as if the person on the other end can see him. "Alright, I'll be there."

He takes the phone away from his ear and hangs up. You give him that look.

"They're calling me into Washington. They want to have another meeting about the whole congress thing." Bucky trails off.

You nod, "Well, when do you leave?"

"Tonight."

The word hangs in the air for a moment as both of you contemplate the next move.

"And when are you supposed to be back?" You asked.

Bucky gave you an apologetic smile, "Valentine's Day."

You tried not to overreact. This was his job. It was important to him, and you wanted to be supportive. Besides, it wasn't like Valentine's Day was any more special than the other days when you got to spend your entire life with the man you loved.

"That's okay! We can work with that, we'll just celebrate later that night. Dinner, maybe?" You tried to be optimistic.

Bucky's demeanor changed, "You know, that's what I love about you?" He set his mug down on the coffee table and leaned over you.

"Oh, really?" You asked with the biggest grin.

"Mhm," he placed a soft kiss on your jawline.

You bit your lip to keep from grinning, "What else do you love about me?"

And Bucky did leave that night, with a dazed look and smirk on his lips. If that was how you said goodbye, he couldn't wait to see how you welcomed him back.

He kept in touch with you the entire time he was in Washington. Phone calls, FaceTime, endless texting. It was only for a couple days, but he never wanted to go a minute without hearing your voice.

But the plane ride there. It was hell. Not being able to see your eyes light up. Not being able to kiss those perfect lips. The guilt of leaving you behind began to weigh him down. Another fight he couldn't avoid.

The only moment he got a break from his self loathing was when he visited Sam. "Hey, buddy." The two patted each other on the backs.

"Got a knack for getting yourself in trouble don't you, Sam?" Bucky teased.

Sam raised an eyebrow, "If I recall, a lot of the trouble I've gotten into has been on your behalf."

Bucky laughed and nodded his head as if to say "touché".

"How's the girl," Sam asks, his smile reflecting his fondness for you.

Your beautiful boy just grins from ear to ear, "She's great. She's always great."

"Would you look at that," Sam says. "The man who never smiles just can't seem to stop."

Bucky shakes his head, still the flicker of a smile on his face, "She makes me...a better man."

Sam looks down at the ground. Grappling with his thoughts.

Bucky notices and turns to him.

"None of this," he gestures to Joaquin in the hospital bed, struggling to maintain stability, "is your fault."

"I don't know, Buck. I'm not cut out for this," Sam said. It wasn't something Bucky hadn't heard before. He knew his friend had always dealt with feeling unworthy of Steve's title.

"This shield was made for you, just as much as it was made for Steve. He wouldn't have given it to you if he didn't believe that himself," Bucky reassured him.

Sam let it sink in for a minute before cocking his head towards Bucky, "Damn. We're doing pep talks now?"

Bucky let out a laugh that was partially a scoff. He couldn't catch a break. "I meant it, Samuel. This was my last day here, and I had to make sure you knew that before I left."

Sam nodded, "Thank you, Bucky."

"I love you, Buddy." The blue eyed man said back.

"Now, I've got a plane to catch and a girl back home to surprise," He said with a skip to his step.

Sam watched him leave before muttering under his breath, "Damn soldier's gone soft."

The airport was packed with people. Long lines wrapped through the hallways. Bucky tried to push his way through. Tried to get an answer.

"What's going on?"

A stranger turned around, "They're delaying all the flights. Something about a security issue nearby."

Bucky found a group of people crowded around a television and squeezed in to get a better view. "President Ross reportedly transformed into what people are already calling 'Red Hulk' after massive White House meltdown." Footage flashed across the screen of what was indeed a cherry tomato colored Hulk surrounded by a burning white house.

The growl that erupted from the beast vibrated the speakers. Bucky's shoulders dropped in disappointment as he picked up the phone to call you.

You answered almost instantly, "Buck?" Your voice was weak with worry and it sounded like you were already expecting bad news.

"The flights are delayed, doll. Turn on the news," Bucky said.

"I've seen it," You replied softly.

"I don't know how long-" Bucky started but you cut him off. "Hey, don't worry about that. Just, get home safely. Please."

Bucky swallowed, "I will."

"I love you, James."

"I-" The line went dead. He quickly checked the phone to see what had happened. NO SERVICE.

Bucky was desperate to find a way back to you.

Meanwhile, Sam was getting his ass kicked by a giant blood clot. "Ross, listen to me. You know this place. You used to go here all the time with, Betty."

The creature that was once the president growled in his face.

"Alright, that didn't work."

Sam dove behind a car, narrowly avoiding another blow from the hell hulk. "You don't want to talk it out. Fine by me," Sam rolled away from the car just as the hulk smashed the gas tank.

The explosive vehicle flew towards the now Captain America, and with his improved vibranium wings from the Wakandan's he was able to slice the car in half.

His victory was short lived as the hulk grabbed him by the wing and ripped it off. Sam fell to his knees, feeling like he'd lost the war. At that moment, a spray of bullets bounced off of the angry monster's back. It turned around, focusing it's deep red eyes on the all too familiar Winter Soldier.

Sam was now an afterthought as the Red Hulk raced towards Bucky. The soldiers vibranium fist made a loud clank as it collided with the much larger one.

The high pitched whip of metal rang through the air and Sam's shield dug into the President's back. Bucky smiled like a proud father.

Together, Sam and Bucky were able to keep the hulk away from civilians and wear him out until backup arrived. But it was the memory of his daughter and the drive to be a better man that transformed his outer appearance as well.

Bucky was slouched against a police car as paramedics carried the President away. "What happened to the girl back home thing?" Sam walked over to him.

"Couldn't catch my flight. Besides, I figured you needed me more." Bucky said.

"Stop tryna butter me up," Sam shook his head. "I'll get you on a private jet, but you owe me."

Bucky extended his fist, starting off their handshake. "Take care, pal."

Sam finished it off, "Same time next week?"

You were curled up on the couch, exactly where Bucky had left you. It was Valentine's Day, and your husband was off to God knows where probably risking his life.

And the only thing you could do about it was sit here and wait. With a box of chocolates. And a few Ryan Gosling movies.

Then, you heard the rattling of a key in the door. It was so unexpected that you almost considered it had just been people that came to take you away.

Bucky pushed the door open, dropping his heavy duffel bags and extending his arms to you. You quickly jumped up, chocolates flying, and ran over to him.

The contrast between being out in the cold and now being in your warm embrace was a shock to Bucky's system.

He smelled like ash and sweat, but underneath that he smelled like him.

"I thought-" Your eyes involuntarily began to tear up.

He cupped your face in his hands and looked into your eyes with an intensity that made you blush, "I couldn't leave my best girl alone on Valentine's Day."

Your heart skipped a few beats and your face was permanently carved into a smile.

"Oh, almost forgot." He reaches into his pocket.

When he held out the palm of his hand, a silver chain with the letter B dangling from the end of it replaced the empty space.

"Bucky," you said, wiping away more tears to no avail. It was so much more than jewelry to you. It was proof that time after time, Bucky would find a way. That you were his priority and that would never change.

"It's beautiful."

He unclasped the necklace before gently turning you around to put it on you. "For the most beautiful girl," he said when he was done.

You turned around and kissed him, combing your hands through his hair. He looked into your eyes, feeling overwhelmed with joy.

"I've got something for you too," you smirked.

"You do?" He asked knowingly, kicking the door closed behind him.

"Mhm," you pulled him closer by his shirt. You were going to do more than just tell him how much you missed him.

[uhdrienne]

the embodiment of grace and deviousness

⛓️ pairing: seungcheol x f!reader ⛓️ genre: sfw, fluff, angst, mafia au, soulmate au ⛓️ word count: ~8k ⛓️ warnings: mentions of violence, weapons, open wounds. do not interact if it can be triggering! there's going to be cursing too because seungcheol is a grumpy one :") ⛓️ summary: as an author, it's almost poetic that your soulmate tattoo would be a flower. actually... half a flower. a snapdragon, to be exact. the petals on your arm, the vines on seungcheol's. it's even more cliche when you meet him on valentine's day. to you it means grace, but for seungcheol, he still has zero idea on what flower his tattoo is. he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious at all, but during this season of love, you're about to figure out exactly what this all means for you and him, the leader of the city's most dangerous mafia.

author's note: suuurprise! to commemorate my first valentines' on this platform, here is a fic, part of @ddeonghwa-s Secret Cupid Event 💌 thank you so much to @ddeonghwa-s for putting this event together, and of course to the wonderful @kpopflowerfield for giving me this opportunity to write for you, i hope you like this as much as i did💘

here is the event masterlist! do support the works of all other authors too, all of them are so so amazing <3 happy valentines' day!!

depending on the POV, italics signify either the author's writing or Seungcheol's thoughts <3

"Territory 13 is acting up again, sir."

"Are they?"

"They're giving trouble. Threatening to cut off our chain supply in the north."

“Hm.”

“We’ve lost a few men fighting them for the past few days. The situation doesn’t seem to be de-escalating, so we reported to you.”

“Nowhere else we can push to weaken them?”

“They seem to have it figured out, sir. They outnumber us at every turn.”

"Well, we can't have that, can we?"

"No, sir."

"You have three hours till dawn. Take the men you need and get it settled. It won't be pretty if I don't get better news by then."

"Yes, sir."

"Go."

He swings his chair around to the fading sky of the night, nursing his glass of amber. He looks down to his full sleeve of black, red, and blue ink. Zinnias, dahlias, rhododendrons, and in the centre, like the highlight of a Naturalism painting, a whorl of vines and small, green leaves, linked to the vines of other flowers. He has no idea what it means, has had no idea since the day he got it. Ever since, all he's focused on is getting it covered, blended in with other flowers on his skin.

What is the point of such a mark on his skin, he wonders for the umpteenth time as he runs his hands over the permanent imprint, if the universe won't show me what it means?

He glances at the corner of his screen. 1:30am. 14 February. Hm.

He looks away.

"I'm sorry, I don't think we can proceed with cover design and vetting for you, ma'am."

"Oh... Not possible? At all?"

"I'm afraid not, ma'am. Your drafts weren’t given the green light from our Head of Publishing, and our team can't exactly spare the manpower to help you right now."

"...I see. And there’s no one else I can look for? Or….. any contacts you may have?”

“We can try, ma’am, but we can’t promise anything. It’s busy period for us publishers at the moment.”

“Ah. Well, thank you anyway. I hope we can work together in the future."

You put your phone down and sink back into your chair, covering your face with your hands. Your most recent creative co-director pulled out two days ago, another graphic design deal fell through, and now this publishing company. At this rate, you don't know if your book will even ever reach the local bookstore across the street.

You blow out a breath, look down at the only black ink on unblemished skin, the one that's been there since the day you turned 20 years old.... the petals of a snapdragon.

Your phone lights up with a text from a friend, and as you unlock it, the date catches your attention.

14 February. Happy Valentines' Day to you.

Your final straw comes when you're walking home from your office the next night. You rub your tattoo, which has been irritated the whole of today. You have no idea what it means, just that it can't be good for your soulmate bond. But you've never been concerned for him, not the slightest bit, since the day you got the tattoo. Because he's not something you're looking for right now.

Then you hear scuffling, a familiar thing here in the rougher area of town where you live. Your only intention is to walk past and ignore everything. From prior experience, that's the best survival tactic you have: Don't go looking for trouble, and it won't find you.

A man appears on the sidewalk and walks towards you. You walk faster, calculating the distance it takes. Two hundred metres and you'll be under the safety of the street lights. One hundred and fifty. One hundred. The man seems to be getting closer.

You hear a thud. Fuck. What was that?

You squeeze your eyes together and turn around. It sounds stupid, but you'd like to at least see the face of your captor before you see darkness. You read novels about this. When a character gets out of a captor's grasp, they can never tell the police what the kidnappers look like. If now is your time, you won't go down making the same mistake.

Except there isn't a captor nor a body bag. It's just another man, hands in pockets, bending down to survey the unconscious lump on the concrete ground just behind you. He looks at you, the exact moment that you too meet his eyes. And you feel it. At the worst possible time in your life, ever, for crying out loud.

Hundreds, maybe thousands of volts of electricity. A rising and a pop in your head, a sizzling burn on your forearm. Who knew a soulmate bond snapping into place could be this painful? You choke out a gasp as the pain sears, brands itself into your arm. The outline of the flower appears in full glory, the vines entwining itself around your arm as it links with the petals. It's beautiful and horrifying, and you watch as the flower you've been waiting for finally, finally blooms.

Before long, the bloom appears on your forearm. A snapdragon.

The man seems to feel the same thing, as he doubles over in pain, pupils dilated in shock and clutching his arm. His face is covered by his hood so you can't see what he looks like, but he turns and runs, and before long he's disappeared into the darkness.

A few minutes pass before the pain finally subsides, and in its place comes a wave of exhaustion. You sink on the concrete, careful not to stir your unconscious stalker, who's still lying on the ground motionless.

You've found your soulmate. On the day of love.

You touch your mouth when you feel a smile creeping up your face.

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

Seungcheol opens his door, barks an order to his guard outside not to disturb him unless "someone is bloody dead", sinks down on a couch and grabs a whisky. He downs it, the burn of the alcohol close to nothing as compared to that of the flower sitting oh-so-innocently on his forearm. He'll never forget the way the snapdragon petals appeared, as if they were burnt into his skin.

He stares at it, remembers the girl who gasped in pain just as he did. He never meant for this to happen. He was only passing by and saw a man from one of the local, problematic gangs sneaking up on you. He only meant to get the man away as he usually would for anyone else, because his principles, despite his rough line of work, never permitted him to disrespect women. He only meant to do one thing and go on his way. He only felt his arm burning right before he turned onto that damn street.

He glares at his arm, like the ordeal is its fault. His hand is shaking. It never shakes.

He didn't mean to feel his bond snap into place, never meant to meet you. He takes another long swig. This is the worst timing ever, he thinks darkly.

Meeting your soulmate on Valentines' Day can't be pure coincidence. If there wasn't a sign before that this was your chance, there very well was now. The next day you come up with a mission plan.

Find the man who is apparently my soulmate

...........

And that's when you sit down and have a good think. What are you even going to do when you do find him, anyway? Get together with him purely because he's meant for you, as the universe dictated? What if he's a rude jerk? What if he's ugly? What if... oh god, what if his breath stinks?

What if... he doesn't like you?

You continue writing on your notepad, absently, mindlessly writing sentences and paragraphs like word-vomit. Before long, you look down on the page to see almost a full journal entry, like you always do when you're anxious or stressed.

"Great," You mutter. "May as well write a book about this."

You enter the bookstore, waving at the little old lady who runs it.

"Good morning," She hums. "What are you looking for?"

You smile, thumbing through the different books on the shelf. "Morning. Something about flowers, maybe? I'm doing research... for a book I'm writing."

She nods. "Perhaps a book that explains the flower on your arm?"

You chuckle. Nothing could ever get past her eyes. "You caught me."

The lady laughs in return. "That," she says, hobbling out from the counter to rummage her inventory, "is a snapdragon. Yours is lovely -- a nice shade of red."

You smile. "Does its colour represent something, too?"

The old lady pulls down a thick book, flips through it and sweeps off the dust on the cover. "Every colour has its representation, but it's also your choice to decide what it means to you." She passes you the book. "In Chinese culture, it means prosperity. It's a lucky colour. For others, it could mean passion and love. It could also mean danger, perhaps courage..."

"Wow," You mumble, flipping through the book. "One colour and thousands of meanings?"

The old lady shrugs. "Colours and nature existed way before we did," She takes the book from you and goes to wrap it up in construction paper. "Is that the tattoo that brings you to your other half?"

"So the world says," You shrug, as you pay for the book. "I had the petals first, so the stem and leaves appeared when I met him, but I don't know where he is... or even what he looks like."

The lady nods in understanding. "I wouldn't worry. You'll find your way back to each other. I'd think that's what the tattoo's for."

"Do you know about them? What do they do?"

"Some stories say they help soulmates detect when one is in danger. Other stories say the closer you are, the warmer it feels... I've never tried."

Huh. You nod. "Thank you. So very much."

There is a soft shimmer of fascination in the old lady's eyes as she waves you goodbye. "I have faith that what's meant for you will come to you in due course, dear. Have a good day now."

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

Seungcheol hasn't stopped glowering at his tattoo all day. It looks... out of place. The petals aren't supposed to be there. It looks like an outsider, a strange feeling he can't place. If this is the bond acting up, he surmises, it fucking sucks.

He needs coffee to cure the pounding headache building up.

He orders someone to get his coffee, and as he sits to wait, he taps at his keyboard impatiently, trying to figure out how the tattoo had built up.

The petals came later, he thinks. Is that supposed to mean something?

When his right-hand man, a freckled, tan man comes in with the coffee, Seungcheol is still none the wiser on the phenomenon. So he lowers his guard (for once, he thinks bitterly, for a soulmate bond of all things), and asks the man who's currently laying his coffee cup down. "Lee."

Lee looks up. "Yes, sir?"

"What do you know about soulmate bond tattoos?"

Lee looks visibly excited. "Did you get yours, sir?"

"Asking for a friend," Seungcheol deflects immediately. "So, what do you know about it?"

"I have one, sir," Lee says, and rolls up his sleeve to reveal a... half-faded anchor tattoo. "I was so.... it felt so strange to meet my other half."

"Strange. What was it like?"

Lee shrugs as he sets down a serviette. "Can I speak freely?"

Seungcheol waves at him to go ahead. He's usually the man who acts like he has a stick up his ass, but this time, he wants to find out everything he can about having a soulmate. Just so I don't drag the poor girl down with me for no good reason, he reasons to himself.

"It wasn't all good feelings," Lee explains thoughtfully, hands pausing mid-air. "My soulmate... he was an underground weapons dealer. And you know people in our circle, we don't do feelings. They're liabilities, it's another thing enemies can use against us." He chuckles bitterly. "That was one of the only things we had in common."

Seungcheol doesn't miss the way he's speaking in past tense. "You don't have to explain yourself," He says cautiously.

"No, that's okay," Lee says. "It was a while back. See, I have fading scars to prove that."

"What did it... feel like?"

"It started fading and it hurt so much, I knew something was wrong." Lee shows his arm again.

"What happened?"

Lee shrugs. "He died in an underground turf war. One of those."

Seungcheol makes eye contact. "Did you at least have good days with him?"

Lee looks at him, then looks away. "We did. Almost left the circle for each other, but..." He shrugs again. "Time just wasn't on our side."

"No," Seungcheol agrees. "It wasn't."

His fists clench. So this is what could happen to both parties who were in the circle, nevermind a civilian. He nods. "Thank you for telling me."

Lee gives him a half-smile. "So is this about your tattoo?"

"Y- No, for my friend," Seungcheol replies, cursing himself at the slip-up.

"I see," Lee says, the mischievous glint in his eyes returning. Seungcheol knows Lee doesn't believe him. As his right-hand man for years, how could he not see through Seungcheol? He starts walking towards the door. "Well, tell your friend that if there's anything I learnt, it's that time is a bitch. There's going to be a lot of fear, and it won't be pretty. But... take it from me," He smiles sadly. "It's going to feel worse when you don't treasure time and lose them. After all...." He opens the door. "I lived to tell the tale."

When the door closes behind him, Seungcheol leans back into his chair and rubs his temples.

"Some soulmates you find in the lecture hall of your school. Some you find along the way of life. Some... are pre-ordained by the universe, in the form of a snapdragon tattoo.

But are these... pre-meditated, pre-planned people meant to stay?"

You put down your pen.

You're curious. At the world, for giving you a person. How that system came about. About your soulmate. What he's like, what he looks like.

But there's no straightforward way to find him. No instruction manual that tells you where to go and what to do.

You decide to take a walk that evening. No distance limit. Just wherever your feet takes you.

And it brings you to this cafe on a street you've never been, with soft music and oak furniture, and a smiley, freckled and tan man behind the counter grins at you. "Welcome to Choi's."

"Hello," You say, smiling a bit. "Could I get a latte, and... that croissant? It looks amazing."

"Of course," He says, before turning to another burly staff that just appeared. "Get her a latte, will you?"

The staff nods, and disappears behind the coffee machine.

You take a seat, and hum as you wait. When the pastry and drink appear on your table, you thank the staff and look down to see the milk foam in the shape of a heart. Mmm. You take a sip, already feeling a lot better.

The bell jingles, and a man steps in, hands in his pockets. and heads for the counter. By force of habit, you look up and send him a cursory glance. And then you freeze. The man has rolled up his sleeves as he speaks to the staff, as if they already know each other, and on his arms....

A full tattoo sleeve of flowers. Zinnias, dahlias, rhododendrons, and in the centre, a whorl of vines leading to the most prominent flower. It looks fresh, like it was inked in a mere five minutes earlier.... in a shade of brilliant red... a snapdragon.

It's him.

The man must have excellent situational awareness because he acutely notices someone staring at him and he turns to you. Your shell-shocked face, your trembling hands... and his eyes fall on your forearm.

Choi Seungcheol had never felt this thunderstruck, not even when he found out half his men had been bought over by rivals years ago. He knows he'll never forget this feeling.

So he does the next best thing. He excuses himself from his staff and leaves.

So you get up and run after him.

Seungcheol's in the middle of cursing himself and the world out when he hears your voice calling for him.

"Sir...?"

He can pretend he doesn't know you're calling him. Sure. He can do that. Keep on walking, Seungcheol.

Until he hears running, and a tap on his shoulder. Ah.

He swallows, closes his eyes, and turns around. "Yes?" He asks coldly.

Ah. So he's not in the habit of making conversation, you think. "I'm really sorry about this, but can I...."

"Can you what?" Seungcheol replies, even though he already knows what you're going to say.

"Can I see your arm? For a second? I just wanted to make sure I wasn't seeing wrongly."

"No, you may not."

You cringe. Silence dwindles between both of you. "Uh... right."

Seungcheol reaches for his car key. "Why do you want to see my arm, love?" He casts a cursory glance at your arm. "To see if I'm your soulmate?"

You look down, then at him. "...Yeah. I got this tattoo, and I don't know what my soulmate looks like, so..."

"So you're trying to find him in me, huh?" Seungcheol doesn't mean to be rude, but this is the only way to get you off his back, at least until he knows how to move forward. The least he can do is to warn you. "News flash, love. I'm just a man who enjoys flowers. But me as your soulmate?" He chuckles and presses a button. From a distance, his car makes a beeping sound and unlocks. "I highly doubt it. You'll need to know who we are before you enter our world."

"And who are you?" The words come out before you can stop them.

Seungcheol supposes it doesn't hurt to establish who he is, just so you'll have enough sense to stay away.

"The mafia, love," He says softly, as he walks towards his car. "I'm the leader, here. I'd advise you to stay away from me, soulmate or otherwise."

When his car pulls away, you sigh and look at your tattoo.

The biggest joke the universe could have pulled on you. Making a mafia leader, out of 8 billion other people, your soulmate.

When he reaches home, Seungcheol reaches for his phone. When Lee answers, Seungcheol gives him a long list of things to do, for the cafe and for the mafia.

"Has anyone caught on the cafe yet?" He asks.

"Nope," Lee answers. "It was a good front to keep track of the public, but it seems like a normal cafe to them. So I'd say everything's fine, boss."

"Good."

"Anything else?" Lee says.

"....One more thing." Seungcheol says, sighing through his nose. "A girl came to the cafe tonight."

"...Uh-huh."

"The girl in the white cardigan and jeans."

"Right."

"Warn her not to divulge who we are and what the cafe really is. With any luck, she'll figure out that the cafe is protecting us."

"Protecting us..." Lee gasps. "Sir, you told her who you are? Why?"

"To get her to leave me alone," Seungcheol mutters. "Anyway, just tell her to zip her mouth. I don't care how you do it."

He regrets the words once they exit his mouth. "Just don't hit her or anything. We're not in that business."

A soft laugh comes over the phone. "She your soulmate or something, boss?"

Seungcheol pinches his nose. "So she thinks. Just because we have a matching..."

An idea hits him. "Do me another favour."

"Name it, boss."

"Find out where she was last night. Just to make clear something for me."

"You got it."

A knock on your door sounds in the middle of the night. When you open the door, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you flinch when two burly guys flanking the same freckled, tan man from the cafe last night step in your doorway.

"Uh...you're from the cafe, aren't you?"

"I thought a familiar face might help matters," The freckled man says. "My name's Lee. And you?"

You introduce yourself cautiously, but you look at the two men. "So... what the man said yesterday was true? You're not really a cafe, are you?"

Lee shrugs. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with, anyway." He nods to the men. "We just came here to give a little warning."

You have a feeling you already know. "What warning?"

"Don't pry, and don't tell," Lee says, still smiling, but you sense the underlying threat within. "I don't know what business you have with us, but it should end now." He nods at you. "For both yours and our good."

The burly man on the left makes a point of nodding towards your home. "We know where you live, and we can find you no matter where you go. Don't complicate things for yourself. You won't like what comes next."

And they leave, leaving you shaking in the doorway. Anger courses through you. Your soulmate sent people after you to push you away.

You don't know everything about soulmate bonds, but what you do know is that soulmates are drawn to each other: to protect, and to take care of. Either your soulmate is very, very clueless; or he just doesn't want anything to do with you. You have to find out which answer it is before you decide whether to let go of him or not.

Alright, Mr. Mafia Boss, you clench your teeth. I don't have to deal with your mafia directly to get an audience with you. Let's see how far this game can go.

Moonlight slants through his ceiling-to-floor windows. Seungcheol grits his teeth as he watches the surveillance that Lee found for him. You, walking home the night of 14 February, around 10pm, going faster and faster as that son-of-a-bitch followed you. His arms rest on his chair as he sees himself appear and knock the guy out cold.

He sighs. So it really was you. He'd recognise that face anywhere.

He looks at his tattoo once more, hating how perfectly it entwines with the rest of his tattoos. So much for covering it up. He turns his arm around again and again. It's exquisite, but it lies there like a burden.

And it picks the perfect timing to start burning. Seungcheol grunts in pain, clutching his arm as it burns, sears with the same pain it did that night. He doesn't know how the system came about, but what he knows is this: You're in danger. And as annoyed as he is about this whole situation, he has to find you. If only to make the pain stop.

He reaches for his telephone, and when the other line picks up he hisses: "Find her. Now. Scour all the surveillance in the city. I don't care what you have to do, but find her."

He can hear his man barking out orders in the background, and he shakily puts the phone down. Lee comes bursting into the room, grabs Seungcheol's arm to check on him. Normally, Seungcheol would have the head of anyone who dared to touch him without permission, but given Lee's position in this predicament, he allows him to.

"Is it supposed to be like this?" Seungcheol groans out. "It hurts like hell."

"Yup," Lee mutters. "It is. Looks and seems exactly like mine whenever Bri got into danger."

"Danger--" Seungcheol scowls and tries getting up. "You mean she's injured?"

Lee shrugs. "I don't know if it extends to normal minor situations, but whenever Bri got into a fight, I'd feel my arm burning."

"Her, fight. Don't make me laugh," Seungcheol scoffs, then grunts again as another wave of pain hits him. "She looks like she couldn't hurt a fly."

"We've located her, boss," Another man comes into the room, holding a laptop towards him.

"Where?"

When silence answers him, he hisses. "I didn't ask you this question for you to not fucking reply. I asked where?"

"The border of Territory 7, sir."

"What the hell is she doing there? Is she an underworld member, too?" Lee wonders out loud.

Seungcheol pushes himself up off his seat, wincing as his arm throbs slightly. "Fuck if I know. But I guess I have to find her if I want this pain to stop."

"I'll get men and go with you," Lee starts, but Seungcheol waves him off. "No need. We don't need to stir up a fuss, not when the territories are already misbehaving these few weeks. I'll get her, and... figure it out later."

You're tapping your foot as you wander the edges of the city's largest turf. It's well-known that civilians shouldn't pass by here if they want to get home alive and well, but with the recent news of unrest stirring in such turfs, you figure that it's the best way to seek Seungcheol out. It's stupid, but it's your best bet. Plus, you figure that the nearer you are to

You must be near a group of militants on patrol duty, because you can hear hushed orders and boots crunching. You sigh and look at your watch.

"Are you actually stupid?"

You raise your head. "So it worked. So nice of you to join me this evening."

Seungcheol storms towards you. "So you tricked me?"

"Wasn't a trick." You mutter. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"You are a nutcase," He seethes, as he grabs your arm and starts dragging you away. "Do you have any idea what would happen if anyone caught you? These few places are red-light districts now. You're not supposed to be here."

"I wouldn't know. You came anyway."

Seungcheol lets you go and huffs at you. "Go home, and don't get any more stupid ideas. Yes, I'm your soulmate. Yes, my tattoo is also a snapdragon, and I guess I can sense when you're in places you shouldn't be because my arm fucking burns, okay? Got your answer?"

"No," You say defiantly. "I haven't found out one thing. Why were you so desperate to deny that you weren't my soulmate? But you still came running anyway."

"This," He hisses, stepping closer to you, "is a pain in my ass. I can't work if my tattoo's going to start hurting every half hour. So for god's sake, please stay out of anything that doesn't concern you. Do not run into a lion's den to get an audience with me."

"So you're going to give me a way to contact you?" You shrug. "Sure, if that will keep me from making rash decisions."

Seungcheol furrows his brows. "What gave you that idea?"

"Well, you can't think I'm going to let you go after all of this, do you?"

What??

"Did I not make myself clear en-"

"Oh, you did," You say. "Like you said, you came running because you could sense I was somewhere I shouldn't be. So you can't stay away no matter how much I piss you off, can you?"

"I nev-"

"That's how soulmates work, Mr. Mafia Boss." You say smugly. "We can't stay away from each other, like a moth can't stray from the light."

Seungcheol scowls at you and then proceeds to maintain a ten-second glaring competition until he blows out a breath.

"Ten more reasons why I hate this bond so much," He mutters, before pulling out a business card and shoving it into your hands. "I've got ground rules. Don't call me for stupid reasons. Do not call to ask me out privately. Do not give my number to anyone for any reason. No exceptions, unless you want a bullet through your brain."

"Did you just threaten to shoot me...." You peruse the business card. "Choi Seungcheol?"

"Yes, and what about it?"

"You know nothing about being a gentleman."

"Never said I was one. Get in the car."

"You''re going to shoot me in there? With the expensive leather?"

"I will if you don't keep your mouth shut and start moving."

You zip it and follow him.

Success. You've met your soulmate. (You're sitting in his car, too.)

He said you couldn't call. But texting exists, so.... You're determined to bug him until he takes notice.

"It's me."

He leaves you on read.

The next day you add another message. "I guess I'll write to an empty chatroom. I'm doing good, I just had a sandwich for breakfast and I'm going to continue writing now."

5pm: "I'm done with my next chapter. Trying to find an illustrator for the cover. I'm craving soup."

11pm: "goodnight! hope your work or whatever's going well. You can't tell me anything about what you're doing?"

And so it continues, for a full three days, with silly texts about a sentence error you wrote, or a funny thing you ate, or asking him what he's doing at work, until you get a single response from him that has you rolling your eyes: "Be quiet."

You do not, to Seungcheol's chagrin, keep quiet.

He didn't think you could talk so much to someone who never replied. In a week he'd all but figured out your life pattern: wake up, eat, write (he had no idea what you were writing), find publishers and illustrators, take a walk maybe in the late afternoon, eat again, and write until it was time to sleep. You lead an awfully idyllic life compared to him, he thinks as he closes your text.

You also seem to have a love for soup, he realises. The weirdest fucking craving.

And croissants from his fake cafe. You sent him photos of it across the week, and he wonders how you never get tired of the damn thing. Your food cravings change from soup to something else every now and then, getting more bizarre with each one. (Pasta with pickles? Really?)

It was cute. (He cursed himself out after thinking about it.)

And so it goes for two more weeks until Seungcheol decides this has to stop. He texts you back for once, and you're elated as you read his text.

"Be ready Saturday night. Zip it for now, will you? I'm trying to work."

You're waiting outside your house when he pulls up. You already know that he knows exactly where you live, so you never bothered texting him your address. You get in once he stops the car, his grumpy face still on full display.

"Thanks for taking me out," You say, smiling at him, and he grunts as he pulls out and steps on the accelerator. "Isn't that exactly what you wanted?"

You shrug. "And you gave in. Is that a soulmate thing?"

"I will drop you off right this second if you say 'soulmate' one more time." He threatens.

He rubs the sleeve covering the skin on which his tattoo lies, and you frown. "Is it causing you trouble? I haven't gone anywhere weird recently, though."

"No. And you better not have."

He doesn't say much after that, simply drives about twenty minutes to a sleek, al fresco restaurant. The neon lights, warm-looking space draws you in, and when you read the menu outside while waiting for him to park...

"Soup? So you did read my texts!"

"You won't shut up about it. A little hard to miss it even if I wanted to."

You chuckle and flip through the menu. "So what're you getting?"

"You pick, you're the one craving soup of all things," He mutters absently. "Don't really care. Just came to get a message across."

"What is it?"

"Sit first before I tell you."

And so you do. He lets you get tomato soup and grilled cheese, pasta and a soda, and says absolutely nothing. He eats a little, rolling his eyes at the amount you inhale. Finally, you put down your fork. "So what did you want to tell me?"

He swallows his water before putting the glass down. "Just one thing."

You cock your head. "I'm listening."

"Why are you contacting me personally, so often? I'm sure I said not to do that."

"You said not to call," You reply, smiling. When he looks like he's about to protest, you smile again. "So I texted."

"You're fucking impossible," He mutters.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"Nothing. Anyway, stop that. I'm a busy man."

"I know. That's why I text, like, three times in a day. It's not a lot, is it?"

His hand comes down on the table, not loud enough to cause a scene but firm enough to catch your attention. "I don't have the time to entertain you, Miss Y/N. You know who I am, and that was my fault, and I think it would do you good to remember that."

"Pulling the mafia leader card on me, again?" You sigh and shake your head. "I don't know what you do, and you won't tell me. I write about people like you and mobsters. You're exactly what I write in my books."

"I am not one of your little book characters," Seungcheol hisses back. "I am not a work of fiction or something you pull out of your imagination and twist about like your plaything. I am real, and I am someone who can hurt you if I want to. And I don't owe you any information. Stop bothering me, got it?"

"Is that why you brought me here?" A surge of confidence and defiance grips you. He couldn't have taken you out to somewhere he knew you'd enjoy for no reason.

He scowls. “I can go wherever I want. Don’t read too much into it.”

You grin. “Sure.”

He nods.

“So can I continue messaging you?”

He groans. “Did you not get any of what I just said?”

You shrug. "Guess you’ll have to tell me a few more times.”

He sighs loudly, and his fingers drum the table as he seemingly goes deep into thought. The scowl is almost becoming a permanent fixture on his face, you think.

After a long moment, he groans and utters: “Next Sunday. 6pm.”

He takes you out two more times. The next Sunday, to a small restaurant you chose. This time he ate better, the consistent strain in his forehead almost easing as he bit into the lasagna.

He answered your questions, albeit grumpily, and when you got off his car that night, you thought, as you opened your journal up again, that he was finally, finally warming up to you.

But the next time he brings you out, he is visibly in a stormy mood, barely making conversation and stabbing his meat with his fork.

“Is there something wrong?” You ask.

“No.”

And there the conversation ends.

As dessert rolls in, you try one more time.

“So… how’s work lately?”

“Fine.”

“Ah.”

Please talk. Please.

“You know, I always wonder what a mafia boss does,” You pick up your spoon. “Like, order kills or something?”

Seungcheol picks up his glass. “I remember telling you not to ask about what I do.”

“And you don’t have to give me a full answer,” You shrug. “I’m just asking for a general idea. I thought it’d be nice if I got to know what you do.”

Seungcheol sits back in his seat. "Don't read too much into what I do, love." He takes another sip of water. "You can't honestly think I'm interested in you enough to reveal myself after a few meals. You said you're a writer. You shouldn't be this easy to lie to, you know that?"

Yeah, screw this.

Any confidence you had sizzles out. Easy to lie to. He thinks you're a gullible, small girl eating up every morsel of attention he deigns to give you when he feels like it. Red-hot, burning humiliation and shame rise in you.

After a long pause, you nod. "Alright. Fine. I get it. I apologise for occupying your time."

He surveys you for a second, then nods, like he just made a good business deal. "Just so we make things clear with each other."

"Crystal," You reply, no warmth in your words. "I think I finally got what you wanted to say. I thought you just weren't used to this... idea of having a soulmate, so I wanted to warm you up to it. But now I see you never wanted one in the first place."

Seungcheol furrows his brows just a fraction.

You push your chair back. You're careful not to look or seem angry, in part not to show him you're affected, and also to just... save face. He already embarrassed you. No need to do it again in public. "Take care, Mr. Choi. Thanks for putting up with me, anyway. It won't happen again. I’ll get the bill."

Soulmate, my ass.

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

It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

It wasn't supposed to turn out this way.

Glass meets the plaster of the wall. His tattoo lies there, barren, lacking its usual warmth even though nothing was taken away.

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

Ladies and gentlemen, this is perhaps how the story goes. He pushed her away, and she realised how the universe’s plan, this whole concept, had utterly failed. There were never meant to be pre-ordained people. People change, and oftentimes they disappoint…

The journal remains open, the last sentence discontinued.

T w o M o n t h s L a t e r

Soft, oozing vocals of Clara Bow fill your apartment as you pack your writing materials. You're done writing for the day.

You glance at the clock. Nine p.m. In time for a snack and TV before you head to bed.

When you turn on the TV, the news catches your attention. Another territory struggle, another turf battle for control. You shake your head and switch the channel. Typical.

As you settle down into the cushions with chips and a glass of white wine, sudden searing pain, hot and white and agonising, shoots down your arm. You gasp and grasp it in your other hand, almost keeling over at how painful it is.

Something is wrong. Very, very, wrong.

You sink to the floor, clutching your arm and sweat starting to bead your forehead. It hurts, your arm hurts, everything hurts.

Is Seungcheol in trouble?

His name card. Right. You can just find out for yourself, and if he asks, you could just say the tattoo's causing you a lot of pain. Yes. That's it.

You stagger to your drawers to find his card, messing everything up in the process. You fumble for your phone and dial his number, again and again and again, but all you’re greeted with is a beep and an automated voice instructing you to leave a message.

You don’t know what to do. No emergency contact, no one you can find… hell, you don’t even know where he is. As you’re standing, getting ready to run out and search, there's a pounding on your door.

You barely make it to the door and open it, and there stands the freckled, tan man whose name you never got. He looks awkward, eyes racing to your tattoo. "I'm sure you must be in a lot of pain," He says. "Mr. Choi ordered me to check on you."

"Check on me?" You almost wheeze. "What's going on that my arm hurts this badly?"

Lee shakes his head. "Not right now. We will talk in the van."

"Of course you can't say." You snap, patience wearing thin, temper as riled up as the pain in your arm. You're done with his secrets. "I can't know what he's doing, I can't know where he is, or if he's alive or dead, even if the pain he's causing may very well kill me too."

"You won't die," Lee says, a little more kindly. "If this comforts you, my soulmate's gone, and I'm still here."

Your anger evaporates a fraction. "I'm sorry about that."

"No need to be." Lee sighs, then reaches his own arm out. "Hold on to me, I won’t do anything weird. I'll take you to him. He's going to be a bitch when he sees you, but... I think it would be good for both of you. More often than not, distance breaks things apart."

"He's enough of a bitch even when I'm around," You mumble, but you take his arm anyway as he helps you out.

Without much effort, he gets you into the van he came in, and barks out an order to the curious men inside to drive into what he calls "The Heart".

"What's the Heart?" You ask, as he passes you a canteen of water to drink from.

"It's what it sounds like. The heart of our territory." Lee explains, eyes trained in front. "Mr. Choi's there when we... have scuffles, and that's usually the place where security is tightest, so he can be near to us to get updates and give orders, and still not get into danger."

"So he is a leader."

"He is, and one of those you wouldn't want to cross. He's quick with his work, and he can resort to getting his hands dirty if he has to. His network and connections are... frighteningly impressive, to say the least."

"Funny how I'm hearing it from you and not him," You huff as you lay your head back, trying not to think about the pain.

"He hasn't had the experience of telling people about his life, Miss," Lee chuckles. "But I figured you'll know eventually, so better sooner than later, right?"

"Sooner than later?"

"You're meant to stick around him, Miss. For the good and bad. You're his soulmate, after all."

"I don't know if we'll get there." You sigh, and close your eyes. "Is he badly hurt? Will me being there even help matters?"

Lee shrugs. "We'll find out."

Lee gets six men to flank you both as he walks you in. Up ahead, there's a building seemingly made of unforgiving steel, it's blank canvas looming in the dark red, streaked sky.

"That's the Heart?"

"That’s the one. Unpenetrable, Miss. Let's go in."

You pray for all your sakes it really is as Lee takes you up into the elevator. When he opens one of the (almost) hundreds of similar doors to lead to an empty, cell-like room, and inside sits Seungcheol, with a red fabric pressed---

"You're bleeding," You blurt. The pain in your arm subsides just a fraction, perhaps jarred by the sensation of finally, finally, meeting him.

He looks up, eyes twisting in furious shock as he glares at Lee, and then you (you don’t know why). "Exactly which part of my order did you not understand, Lee?"

Lee bows his head in apology. "I'll never take away a chance to meet your soulmate away, you know that, sir."

Seungcheol scowls hard, and you're almost afraid he's going to shoot Lee there and then.

"Get out."

Lee smiles, ushers you in and walks out. "I'll be back in half an hour to report. I'll call for the doctor again."

You bend and peel aside the fabric. Once white, it's now soaked red, it's warmth unsettling. There's blood, so much of it, and on his once unblemished skin now contains a mess of open flesh, blood, and a...

A bullet.

"A gun." You mumble.

"Try not to throw up." He replies, ever-so-gently nudging you away. "This is Armani."

"You jerk."

His face twists in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." The anger is returning. "You say all sorts of fucking nonsense to keep me away, and we meet again months later because you're shot. And that may be a normal day for you, Mr. Choi, but us civilians don't go about our day-to-day expecting a bullet hole to appear in our skin."

His hand clenches up.

"This is why I said everything I did," He snarls in return, putting more pressure on his wound. "I knew I would never want you to try to handle what I am!"

"You never let me try," You hiss. "You refused to tell me anything, to let me see what your life was like. No, you chose to shut me out! And don't you dare tell me what I can or can't handle."

He huffs. "I see no reason in dragging you, or anyone else, in when it isn't needed."

"Yet Lee brought me here tonight." You point out. "He knows something you clearly don't."

"Lee is a nosy fucker." He snaps.

"He's someone who's experienced it all. His soulmate is gone, Seungcheol."

"And look at the pain it caused him. At least if anything happens to me, it's no love lost for you."

"Shut up."

"What?"

"I said shut up. Sometimes people want to help you. Sometimes people wouldn't actually mind, I don't know, going into this Heart place to check on you. Sometimes, you need to get it into your thick skull that I actually want to be here, to make sure you don't die while this stupid snapdragon is burned into me!"

His eyes meet yours.

"But you won't get it!" You chuckle. "You send men to check on me when I’m in pain, but I doubt you have any intention of finding me after all this gets better."

"You think I wanted to?" He shoots back.

"And you think I had it all settled for me? That I was better off not knowing the person that was meant for me, this whole time?"

"I never wanted that." Seungcheol insists hotly. "Look at my world, it's a mess, a violent place, a--"

"And there has to be a reason I'm the one picked out!" You defend. "Do you have any idea what snapdragons stand for?"

When he doesn't reply, you continue. "It stands for grace and strength. I can handle all of this. I'm not meant to measure up with your headstrong personality anyway."

"Then what are you meant for?" He asks, tone now soft, dejected.

"To complement you," You reply. You've never been this sure in your life. "To make up for the traits you lack. I'm not supposed to be as strong, or as fierce as you are. I'm meant to... ground you. That's what soulmates are. To... allow each other's strengths to shine and make up for what they don't have yet."

Seungcheol goes quiet.

"And you?" He asks, after a long pause. "What do I complement you in?"

You survey him again. "That's something I can't discover yet, because you won't let me."

“So what do you suggest?” He continues.

“No more hiding. Show me who you are. No restraint, I don’t need you to keep anything secret.”

“What if you end up like Lee?”

“Then it would have been a life well spent, at least.”

Seungcheol grunts with effort as he leaves his seat and stumbles to you. "And if I obeyed, and let you in?"

You look at him square in the eye. "Then it would be my honour to stand with you... or in the shadows, or wherever you make me stand."

"This sounds a lot like an induction of one of my men," Seungcheol murmurs. "I don't want that."

"Then what do you want?" You ask softly.

Seungcheol looks down at you, emotions warring in his eyes. After a while, he slumps and turns away. “Fuck. I can’t do this to you.”

“Tell me what you want, Seungcheol,” You say quietly. “You order people around for a living. I’m telling you to be honest with me, too.”

"…You. With me. Wherever you, or I, want to be."

You shrug a little as he cups your face. "I can live with that."

"You better," Seungcheol mumbles, as his mouth finds yours at last, burning more than any wretched tattoo, warmth spreading to your fingertips. "After everything you just said... I don't imagine you're going anywhere for a while."

February 14, 2026

The doctor came to patch him up. His hand squeezed yours hard as the bullet was finally pried out of him.

It's honestly a blur to you now when you think about it, but all you remember is his eyes boring into yours, his unwavering, callused grip on your hand.

"The snapdragon symbolises strength and grace reflected in their tall, strong stems, blooms and resistance to colder temperatures. Others believe they also represent deception and deviousness.

She embodied grace. She was his missing piece, the trait he needed to complement his headstrong nature. But he also needed someone strong enough to stand with him, through every obstacle his work throws him in. And she... she needed his courage and unwavering will to stand with her through it all."

You put the pen down. Mmm. Not too bad for a closing chapter. You send a text to the new publishing house that you contacted two weeks ago. They had seen your draft, and they loved it. Two weeks from now, when everything is settled, you promise yourself, you will show Seungcheol. He'd been curious for a while now about what holed you up in your writing room.

"Love?"

You look up from biting into your croissant. "Well, look who's back from Sicily. How did the meetings go?"

Seungcheol smiles and opens his arms. "Not too bad. I suppose the love you share for novels, along with the Don's* wife, was a selling point. She was most keen on sending you," He cocks his head to the pile of books at his feet, "this. She said it'd make a good Valentines' gift, since I've been poor at accompanying you these few months."

"That sounds perfect. We're both suckers for romances."

As you sink into his embrace, the tattoo once again burns, but it's not the passionate, red-hot zealous heat. It's warm, comforting, like a hot chocolate in winter.

He sighs. "Happy Valentines', love. I'm going to lose my girl to a bunch of fictional mafia men again?"

"You know it."

"I still don't understand why. You have one right here, next to y-"

"Softer! Do you want the whole town to hear you?"

fin.

*Don = the highest role in an organised crime family

thank you for reading 💟

[harmoonix]

I wait for your love ♡

~ Valentines Edition 🤍 ~

Channeling Song:♡♡♡♡

Note for everyone reading this: I love that the Valentines happened to be on a Friday because it is the day of Venus. I hope that you celebrate the day of love even if you are single, because im sure you are loved beyond measure. 💗 by me, harmoonix ♡. Have a lovely reading.

- Venus aspecting the MC can indicate the love relationship being supported by many people. Having the relationship everyone likes and getting cool with it

- Earth Risings can possess a beautiful body. Their body might be beautiful naturally and that's what makes them special

- Libra Sun, Moon or Rising have a tendency to care too much for people. Sometimes going into extremes and getting hurt in the end

- Ariana Grande has Chiron in her 8th house of Leo, she craves attention from people who happens sometimes to be taken, she has to heal her trauma related to painful relationships

- Cancer Moons can crave lots of satisfaction in their relationships if they don't get it, these natives may end up feeling depressed

- Cancer Risings age beautifully as well. The moon ruling their 1st house helps by keeping their skin so good!! Angelina Jolie is also a good example

- Libra Mars or Mars at 7° 19° can feel trapped in relationships with people who don't share the same values as them

- 1° 13° 25° on Venus can indicate being new-ish with the relationships, you like to have long and passionate relationships and you may not date as many people as others

- 10° 22° degrees on ascendant can put a dark energy on you. Dark doesn't have to be bad. You just intimidate others

- Your Venus sign can also indicate how you feel about your ex after ending a relationship. Do you remain friends? or do you break the contact forever?

- Gemini Risings are always on point about making everyone feel comfortable around them. Lady Gaga for example.

- 8° 20° degrees on Moon are obsessed with physical touch. Some of them can be touched deprived which aligns with the sensitivity of their souls

- MC aspecting Mars can involve lots of drama and competition in their careers and throughout their public image.

- Mars or Saturn in the 10th house are the perfect example for 'Fighting to achieve what you want' because you know you deserve it

- Sun in the 3rd house placement to create lifetime relationships can be with everyone since Sun is social in this house. You get along so well with people

- Jupiter aspecting Moon (especially in good aspects) shares so much kindness with the people. They can see the goodness in people

- Jupiter at 5° 17° 29° degrees can present beautiful face features such as eyes, lips, and noseshape. You can complete everything with wearing jewels

- Jupiter at 2° 14° 26° degrees cna present beautiful hair and voice. They can be gifted with finding a good job/being wealthy

- Jupiter at 11° 23°/7° 19° degrees can unite people with their love and humanitarian soul. They are gifted with generosity at heart

- Moon x Pluto aspects represent the 'I can't get you out of my head' line. They're unforgettable at their core

- Leo Placements especially Risings/Sun i think they are favored by others without any effort. Is just their energy and people love them for who they are

- Venus or Moon in the 3rd house can be incredibly close with their siblings (if they have). Sharing a beautiful bond with your family members

- 12th house placements, especially Sun/Moon/Mercury , have a powerful subconscious, so powerful that it tends to get stuck sometimes and to forget about their feelings

- Moon in the 4th, 7th, 9th, 11th houses 》 'Home is not where you go. Home is the people you have around you'

- Neptune in the 12th, 1st, or 8th house are addictive people. You become addicted to them or they to you

- 6° 18°/12° 24° degrees on ascendant 》 being more open-minded, don't criticize yourself too much. Don't fall for others' delusions

- If you meet people who have 8th house placements, they can change your life, or your life will be changed after meeting them. Can it happen if Saturn/Pluto/Moon are involved

Happy Valentines Day 💗💗💗

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

Zae!!!!! (you know me, this is going to be long lmaooo)

That was so incredibly hot I'm not even kidding. I have so many things to say and it still won't do justice to how incredible reading Evanescence was.

First of all, I want to say just how funny that cut was between the woman from Doyle's Tavern insulting him and asking for money in exchange for information to Arthur walking out with said info, all his money and a ban from the Tavern?? Idk it just made me laugh out loud for real 😂. Alright, now more serioulsy—

"Instinct lured him to the debauched inn, and your name frothed from his muzzle in more of a growl than speech. Like a rabid dog, he snapped and barked orders at the women unlucky enough to be trapped with the beast on the arena floor."

Looove that section and the paragraph after. Fellow figurative lovers, we are spoiled. And Jesus am I completely insane for finding the whole thing even hotter with a bestial, animalistic Arthur like this? Perfect comparison.

And the whole ring part! Their entire relationship is SO well written and so well balanced. You had shared your doubts with me about how to write an LH, but my GOD, this was absolutely perfect. GIVE YOURSELF MORE CREDIT I'M BEGGING YOU!!

His intrinsic violence, his possessiveness that dominates him in spite of himself is so in character, and YET, we love it, we love him, just as always.

I so love all the nuances you described in both him and the Reader. She's aware of the problems in their relationship and wants to fight him; she refuses to make things easy for him and give him what he wants. She loves him and hates him so much at the same time... And Arthur, all his impulsiveness, his brutality make us think he's looking for control at all costs; in the end, it's just the only way he can react to the fact that it's him who's completely in love with her and under her thumb. Brilliant. The dialogue in this part is really perfect, with Arthur repeating the “Yours” more and more surely. *sighs*

“You don’t own me, Arthur Morgan!” But the shouting was no use. He closed in on you again, and you reached out, clenching your fists in his shirt to stop his advance. If he noticed, he didn’t let on, talking with a tight jaw. “No, dammit, cause you own me.”

And the wild kiss right after! The whole prey and predator game, so so good. You know I'm suuuuch a sucker for these kinds of comparisons. And the way they're fighting each other but getting closer at the same time... So, so erotic.

And EXCUSEEEE ME, Reader insulting him as they succomb to it? I am so into this. God it made my body feel all sorts of ways 🥵🔥

He knew you were dancing dangerously close to the cliff’s overhang by the way you were keeping him in place, right where you wanted him. But the brute stopped and locked eyes with you, lips curved downward. That slight glimpse of vulnerability you thought you’d seen earlier was now on full display. “Say you won’t go,” he choked out.  Down on his knees, looking up at you with genuine sincerity was the closest he’d ever get to prayer or penance. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat but didn’t answer him.

Oh. My. Lord. I could DIE from this simple vision. This is just incredibly hot and so good to read; I wasn't expecting him to actually be the dominated one here. (Big boys just want to be taken care of, don't they?🤭😉)

And Jesus, how do you achieve that Zae? Because the part after was even better!!! Honestly, I was already choking here, and then that:

“No good, thieving, murderous bastard.”  “I know.” He drew out, tightly clutching the sheets. With a firm nudge, you urged him onto his back.  “You don’t deserve me. Never did,” you continued. His hips jutted in time with your wrist, his climax sitting low in his balls.   “I–dammit–I–kn–know.” The muscles of his stomach constricted as he fought for breath, damn near suffocating under your touch.  “I’ll change.” He gasped, eyes closed, and brow furrowed. “I’ll change. But–ahh–I ain’t ever gonna be good enough for you, woman–nghh–no matter how much changin’ I do.”

I AM DEAD!!!! I loved this part so much I think I read it four times already!!! I mean come on guys, the dialogue, every word sounds so fcking good, perfectly transcribing his voice, making him spit out he's indeed too bad for her, and her stroking him like this, him babbling that he'll change? I'm getting all excited again just talking about it 🫠 This is definitely one of my favorite fic moments, ever.

And of course, as always, the grandiose climax, with once again the predator comparison but with HER as a lioness???? ZAE MARRY ME. This was absolute perfection. And even better, the second echo with him finishing inside, while she asserts "Yours". I just can't with that level of perfection, of masterfulness. This is mind-blowing, Zae. You really made me lose my mind with this one.

The last words also struck me; they are so relevantly bitter-sweet. An ideal ending for this nuanced relationship. You're forever inspiring me.

To conclude, one of my new favorites of yours (yes I knoooow every new one is becoming one of my favorites of yours, but hell I'm just a girl and you're still so incredibly talented!). I'm left in awe of your talent, every time, and here especially with such a subtle LH Arthur. Please, be proud, because you really did him justice. Bravo, bravo, bravo.

Love u! -Your loyal Piney 💞

Evanesce

Summary: You try to runway. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!reader Word count: 3,673 Tags: angst, smut, mid-low honor Arthur, handjob, unprotected p in v, oral, breeding kink, tb? Don’t know her. Warnings: 18+ MDNI, toxic relationship

An: I feel like I ran a never ending marathon with this one. Drafted it a month ago, but I never really vibed with it. Challenged myself to just get it done and make sure I was proud of it. Once again, I'm trying to step out of my comfort zone. Shout out to @googoolies for the note idea! As always, I hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!

Tagging @hihomeghere because you asked ❤️

Evanesce: to dissipate like vapor

Worn floorboards of Shady Bell wailed under Arthur’s weight as songbirds began their morning melodies. The gunslinger scoped the eerily empty, quiet camp for traces of you, but all he found was a folded letter on his pillow.

Echoes of your last conversation flashed in his mind as he tramped across the narrow room to retrieve the note. Two nights ago, The Old Guard overlooked their kingdom from the second-floor balcony as they discussed their plans to wage war against Angelo Bronte. Bile stung the back of your throat as two-thirds of the trio outruled the other. Hosea’s final words to Dutch and Arthur, “You’ll damn us all,” filled you with dread and the overwhelming feeling of impending doom.

Arthur avoided your shadowed eyes as he reloaded his weapons and ignored your outcry against Dutch’s plan. Your desperation had turned swiftly to indignation, and an argument commenced, your voices clashing like swords. You begged him not to go, pleading with the enforcer to listen to reason for once, to listen to you. But he pushed back with the shield of obstinance he had long forged for survival. 

“I don’t take orders from you, woman, and keep your goddamn voice down.”

Thousands of tiny needles pricked at the backs of your eyes at the harsh directive, but you held firm. 

“Arthur, if you go I’ll–” 

“Don’t,” he warned dismissively, slinging his rifle over his shoulder and ambling to the door. He didn’t even bother saying goodbye as he twisted the knob. Your last words fell on ears deafened from years of gunfire. 

“If you leave, I won’t be here when you come back.”

Two days later, Arthur masked his guilt with anger as he skimmed over the last piece of you left in the room. Four words in the polite loops of your handwriting taunted him: Saint Denis. Train. Running. 

After a quick check of the cinch, he found himself begrudgingly engulfed in the city of smog and greed he’d come to hate so much. Riding through the maze of cobblestone, brick, and vermin was like laying under a guillotine, staring up at the blade and waiting for it to drop. Law on every corner, people jammed together, and now, Bronte’s men out for revenge–none of it felt right. 

Taking in a breath that didn’t reach deep enough, he started his search for you in this hornets’ nest of a city. Most of the hotels and saloons served him with nothing but a heavy dose of adrenaline and dead ends. As he approached Doyle’s Tavern, his last stop, he dug his nails into his trembling palm, savoring the sting of apathy that came with the pain.

Arthur made a beeline to Gabe Doyle, reciting his rehearsed description of you. A woman standing beside him, whose garments had seen cleaner days, tapped him on the shoulder. The outlaw didn’t even look at her, didn’t give her time to speak before he rejected her with razor-edge disdain. When Arthur finished, Gabe only shrugged his shoulders, but the woman, still standing close by, let out a derisive giggle.

“He won’t be of no help, mista’. Coulda’ told ya’ for free, but it’ll cost ya’ now.”

Ire made his ears ring, drowning out all the other sounds in the slum’s saloon. He drummed his fingers hard on the worn wooden bar, the taste of pride sour on his tongue. 

“How much?” 

Cleavage spilled over her top as she leaned towards him and twiddled brazenly with the collar of his shirt. 

“Well, for clients that play nice, seven dollars, but for you, rotten dirty bastard––times it by ten.” 

A minute later, he exited Doyle’s Tavern not a cent lighter, heavy with an indefinite ban, but finally, a real lead on you. Four new mocking words overshadowed ones from the letter: Whore house; Courtenay Street. 

A brothel—a goddamn brothel. 

Instinct lured him to the debauched inn, and your name frothed from his muzzle in more of a growl than speech. Like a rabid dog, he snapped and barked orders at the women unlucky enough to be trapped with the beast on the arena floor.

They tried futilely to stop his march down the hall, tried to keep him from getting to you, but the chaos drew you into the colosseum and into the lion’s direct line of sight. You yanked the man-turned-animal by the sleeve and sealed yourselves away before he could do any more damage. 

More tame now, sea storm orbs surveyed you in a quick but covert once over, then he spun on his heel, searching for anything else to focus on.

“Christ, been looking for you all day, woman,” he bit out through clenched teeth. 

The lone wolf prowled the new territory for a threat but was only met with a vacant cave and the empty feeling of shame. Deflecting, he found your luggage, lifting the bags with the practiced ease of carrying buckets of water to and fro. His biceps flexed with the weight of your whole life in one bag, but he nodded at you, matter of fact. 

“C’mon. M’taking you home.”

Home. You could’ve laughed if it didn’t hurt so much. None of these places had ever been home.

“I ain’t going nowhere with you,” you fired back, grabbing for the suitcase in his hand. A brief game of tug-of-war ensued, your grip relentless, Arthur’s unwavering, until he finally let you pull one of the bags free. He dropped the other and exhaled with the sharpness of a saber but stayed silent at the conclusion of your weaponless duel. He’d fallen in love with that gnawing defiance, but now it was tearing him to pieces, bit by bit until it exposed the marrow of pure anger.

“Runnin’ off is one thing.” His nostrils flared, and the timbre of his voice deepened as he carried on, “But running off t’here–– selling yourself?” He shook his head and blew air through his teeth, “Yer crazier than I thought.”

You whirled away from him, swatting your hand like he was as insignificant as a fly.

“And you’re a bigger idiot than I thought. Ain’t selling myself, you damn fool! And I’ll do whatever the hell I please. Right now, I want to get far away from this shit city and you.”

“No, you don’t,” he said, dragging out the words. “I know you just as well as you think you know me. If you wanted away–really wanted away–you wouldn’t’ve left this pretty little letter, and sure as hell wouldn’t’ve told me where to find ya’.” He retrieved the letter from his satchel, held it up just long enough for you to see, and crushed it in his fist before discarding it on the floor.

“That’s what I think of your pretty little letter.” 

You had started a slow involuntary backtrack during his monologue, the flight response pushing back against the fight. He followed, sandwiching you between himself and the door.

“Screw you.” Scorn was hot on your breath.   

Just as you thought to turn the knob, to free yourself from the prison of flesh and wood, the iron teeth of a bear trap, his fingers, clamped around your wrist, bringing your hand to eye level. 

“And you still got something of mine.”

Both pairs of eyes landed on a small round sparkling opal set in a gold band on your left ring finger.

You’d never forget finding it on your pillow along with a letter from Arthur that just said, “One day…”

He had made promises he didn’t keep. First, you just had to wait for the Ferry Job. Next, you needed to survive Colter. Then you had to get far away from the Pinkertons, and most recently, all you needed to do was help case the Lemoyne National Bank. One last job, he’d told you. It was the same thing he said before leaving for that boat in Blackwater.

Contempt flowed through your veins as you tried to wrench free. God, you hated him right now, but you hated yourself more for letting him fool you.

“Let go.” You hissed, seething. 

Your hand throbbed as he gave your wrist another squeeze.

“You first.” Then he nodded towards the stone on your finger. “My ring,” he demanded.

Your knuckles collided with the wood of the door with a hard knock as you freed your hand. You flattened your palm against the wood behind your back, guarding the ring from the career thief’s piercing gaze.

“No,” you shot back, sinking into yourself. “It’s mine.” 

Your finger throbbed around the ring you’d seldom taken off. It had become part of you, melded to your skin like a vine coiled around a tree in a beautiful and deadly embrace. 

“Yours?” he huffed incredulously, shaking his head, trying to form your words into something he could understand. For a short beat, the heavy huff and puff of his breath was the only thing you could register. 

You had mined forever to find something other than cold coals of anger within him. You thought you’d found it—thought you’d finally struck gold when he confessed his feelings for you somewhere out west all that time ago. Now, you were left wondering if it was only fool’s gold you had stumbled upon. The cowardly knight was far too proud and far too afraid of getting stabbed to lay down his armor. But you were having a silent conversation with those sad eyes, reading words he’d never speak or ask aloud. What does that make me, then? 

“Yours.” He answered his inner thoughts without hesitation.

Mine. You thought back but only stared at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of cracking under his scrutiny. 

“Yours.” He repeated assuredly, final. 

It was your turn to shake your head now; you could hear his vocal cords vibrating, generating sounds you were supposed to understand, but he may as well have been speaking another language because what the hell did he know about being anybody else’s? You repeated your thoughts bluntly.

For a moment, he looked stunned, but then his hand shot out, cupping your jaw and tilting your face toward his. He was so close, you could smell him now. The scents of liquor on his breath and leather in his hat permeated your whole being.

“You don’t think–” His voice was low and trembling with fury. “I been yours since the goddamn day I laid eyes on you, and you know it.”

Fight, flight, freeze, and now fawn all warred for dominance. Twin mirrors of blue cosmos peered into your soul, but you didn’t look back, knowing that black holes of destruction ruled in the center and could swallow you in the blink of an eye.

“You have to go, Arthur.”

You tried to reach for the knob again, but Arthur imposed on you further, his chest brushing against yours. 

“No,” he said. “I ain’t going nowhere without you, and you ain’t going nowhere without me. M’done talking about it.”

It’s like he couldn’t listen, couldn’t hear you, couldn’t respect what you wanted. He only ever responded to shouting and violence. So you dipped down to his level, anything to get him to understand. Your open hand pushed full force against his chest, knocking the wind from him and making him stumble backward.

“You don’t own me, Arthur Morgan!”  

But the shouting was no use. He closed in on you again, and you reached out, clenching your fists in his shirt to stop his advance. If he noticed, he didn’t let on, talking with a tight jaw.

“No, dammit, cause you own me.” 

You balled your fists around cotton fabric and pulled him down into you, inhaling like you were bracing for the worst. This game, Predator and Prey, had become second nature to you. You would always be his fawn, thrashing and wailing, yet never escaping the salivating jaws of the coyote. And it always ended the same: a clash of heavy breathing and snarls before you surrendered.

Tobacco and whiskey never tasted so good, and they were just as addictive as him. Your teeth clashed together, and his left hand fell to your hip while his right twisted the lock on the knob. 

He was never gentle, but now, he was almost crazed. Rough hands that were trembling only an hour ago were all over you, gripping your jaw, sliding under your blouse, pushing and pulling you to his whim.

“Falling in love with you was the dumbest thing I ever did,” you confessed as he removed his hat and set it aside; he had better access to you without it. Heat surged through you as his hands bit into your hips, pinning you in place against the locked door. 

You mumble under your breath, “Bastard.”  

So far, he was ignoring your attempts to rouse him; you were his pretty little doe, caught in his chops, and a few barbs wouldn’t keep him from utterly devouring you. Dipping his head into your neck, he fixated on that pulsing artery, taking no time to roll the flesh between his teeth.

“Goddamn asshole,” you huffed but cradled his head as he claimed you.

He brushed over the ruptured blood vessels with his knuckles, and the bastard was smiling, eyes glazed over with lust and self-indulgence. Electricity sparked down your legs as he looped his fingers in the waistband of your skirt. 

You swore to yourself two nights ago that it was all over, that you wouldn’t let him slither back, yet here you were, Eve, being tempted by the serpent. Teeth sank into the forbidden fruit with the lift of your hips off the door, giving him permission to snatch both your skirt and bloomers down in a swift pull. Arthur didn’t need much persuasion to eat from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil; a man like him could have never lived for eternity in The Garden of Eden. 

The pair of you wore pride like heraldry, but neither of you was as honorable as you’d led the other to believe. You, provoking him with the threat of leaving, knowing you’d let this happen as you always did, and him never changing and never stopping the cycle of broken promises. 

Your scent was intoxicating, but he held off from relishing it, studying your face like he’d done many times before. Something was different this time, though. Only for a heartbeat, you saw something in his eye, a minuscule hint of vulnerability. You blinked, and it was gone like it was never there, replaced by an unabashed smirk. You kept the insults flying. 

“Jerk.”

Hearing the laugh rumble in his chest made your skin prick up the same way it did when a thunderstorm was brewing on the horizon. The cowboy braced his hands against your thighs and peeked up at you, his lips still curved in the corners.

He lifted his eyebrow in question, “You done?”

“Shut up,” you responded, tangling your fingers in his hair and guiding him, not so gracefully, to the heat between your legs. 

Obeying, he flicked his tongue out to lap at you, drawing you closer in a hug, his palms resting on the curve of your ass cheeks. Steadying yourself against the door, you tugged on his hair like reins, but fuck, you didn’t want him to stop. You grunted and cursed under your breath as that gluttonous, greedy grifter feasted on you. 

Blasphemous sounds rose up from your chest as you rocked your hips feverishly with every swipe of his warm wet tongue against your clit. Every tug of his locs and bump of your mound into his nose sent blood pulsing full speed to the bulge in his pants. He knew you were dancing dangerously close to the cliff’s overhang by the way you were keeping him in place, right where you wanted him. But the brute stopped and locked eyes with you, lips curved downward. That slight glimpse of vulnerability you thought you’d seen earlier was now on full display.

“Say you won’t go,” he choked out. 

Down on his knees, looking up at you with genuine sincerity was the closest he’d ever get to prayer or penance. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat but didn’t answer him.

Instead, you ushered him back to his feet and crashed your lips into his again, tangling your tongue with his.

In a swift motion, you popped his suspenders loose while you walked him backward. The backs of his knees hit the bed, and he shimmied off his multiple layers just as quick as you unfastened the buttons on your blouse. You stood before him, a goddess, determining his eternal fate. And he waited, fixated on you, languidly stroking his engorged cock while you decided.

You replaced his fisted grip with yours, bending to meet his eye. The almost frown on his face made you wonder what he was seeing staring back at him. You imagined your pupils blown out, your lips swollen, and your hair disheveled. Arthur was the only man in the world who could turn you into a vixen. 

“You’re a fool, Arthur Morgan.” Your noses were almost touching as you tightened your grip and stroked him painfully slowly. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he nodded, his face downright solemn. 

“Mhm,” you went on, rubbing circles atop his hot, leaking pink tip. Your pace quickened as your cheek grazed his. A shiver ran through him as the vibrations of your voice tickled his ear.

“No good, thieving, murderous bastard.” 

“I know.” He drew out, tightly clutching the sheets. With a firm nudge, you urged him onto his back. 

“You don’t deserve me. Never did,” you continued. His hips jutted in time with your wrist, his climax sitting low in his balls.  

“I–dammit–I–kn–know.”

The muscles of his stomach constricted as he fought for breath, damn near suffocating under your touch. 

“I’ll change.” He gasped, eyes closed, and brow furrowed. “I’ll change. But–ahh–I ain’t ever gonna be good enough for you, woman–nghh–no matter how much changin’ I do.”

Air finally flowed back through with the halt of your pumping. The mattress sunk with your added weight as you slung your legs on either side of him. Neither party stalled. You gave him a quick nod before he could even ask, and he sank his length into your warm, wet pussy. There were no hushing kisses, no waiting for you to adjust, no cajoling, just the smacking of skin and the aroma of sex in the room as he molded you to his girth. Bashfulness had never even crossed your mind. You rode him tirelessly, whimpering, gasping, and filling the air with his name. 

The roles reversed; you were the animal now, a lioness pursuing a buck. Chasing the high, you galloped hard and fast and grinding your hips against his to relieve the throbbing ache in your clit. You massaged the sensitive nub between your thighs, indulging in the pleasure you were giving yourself and receiving from him. The tip of his cock bumped that sweet spot inside of you, the one that made you tense and cry out over and over again. 

You didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want him to know what he was doing to you or how he was making you feel–how he always made you feel when he was burrowed deep inside of you. You couldn’t hide from him, though. He knew you–knew the faces and sounds you made, knew the way you tightened around him, knew how you stiffened, knew how your breathing shallowed when you were on the edge. He knew the control he’d have over you forever.

“You ain’t going nowhere.” He grunted as he pounded up into you, the knot in his stomach tightening with his own upcoming release. 

“Fucker,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, and you love it.” 

You couldn’t deny it.

He took your hand in his and felt for the ring on your finger, stroking it, all while keeping eye contact and hammering relentlessly into your velvety walls. Four more thrusts and your eyes rolled back as the lightbulb of tension burst.

“That’s right, let it go, there it is.” Muttering, his upward ruts got sloppier as you rode out your body-spasming orgasm. Then he started babbling, lost in your sweet heat,

“Shit, I’m–bout t–m’close.”

The cowboy tried to lift you up, tried not to spill inside of you, but you buried your head in the crook of his neck and lowered yourself back down, taking him balls deep.

“Goddamnit,” he growled, hugging you to his chest, “the hell you doing, t’me, woman?” He panted and stared up at the ceiling like a man condemned. 

“Ain’t going nowhere,” you echoed breathlessly, still bouncing, before adding, “Yours.” 

In a few more strokes, he filled you up, grunting through his teeth and cursing up a storm that’d make even the most seasoned sailors look on timidly.

Outside noises of the establishment and the streets of Saint Denis droned back in as both of you came back to your senses. An ocean of things was left unsaid as you redressed and let Arthur lead you out of the room and to a proper hotel for the night. The next morning, you took Arthur up on his offer to get away for a few days. As the train you had boarded for your trip chugged on, something in the distance piqued your interest, a small homestead. You could vaguely make out a woman sitting on the porch and a man, presumably her husband, tending to a horse nearby. Of course, you didn’t know their life or their struggles, but if you could write your own happily ever after, it would be that. Arthur nudged you with his elbow, interrupting your daydream.  

“M’sorry...about everything,” he said, low, barely audible. The perpetual ache in your chest had almost gone numb after so long. Almost. 

“I know.” You replied and turned back to the window. The house was out of sight now, and you had a feeling your fairy tale ending had vanished with it.

[astrolook]

Mercury in the houses

(Where does your brain do the most damage? Let’s find out! 😆)

Mercury in the 1st House: "I Talk, Therefore I Am." 📝

Speaks like they’re in a debate competition—even when ordering coffee. ☕

When it comes to job/career, can succeed in anything requiring fast thinking, persuasion, or scamming people legally. (Lawyer, salesperson, journalist.)

Will text you a 3-paragraph explanation for why they took 5 minutes to reply. 📱

Probably debated with your siblings (if you have any) so much as a child they now have trust issues.

Flirts like it's a TED Talk—informative, persuasive, and slightly exhausting.

Looks like their pen was possessed by a demon mid-word. 👻

Your brain runs at 5G speed, but their mouth runs at 6G.

Mercury in the 2nd House: "Money Talks… and So Do I!"💰

Talks slow and calculated—like they’re charging per word.

For job/career, you are perfect for finance, business, or making passive-aggressive Etsy shops.

"Who owes me $15 from 2020? I remember."

Your Handwriting: Fancy-looking cursive that belongs on an expensive check. ✍️

If has family, you might have an Excel sheet of who spent what on Christmas gifts. 🎁

Watches finance YouTubers like they’re movies.

Mercury in the 3rd House: "I Have 1000 Thoughts Per Minute."

Can out-talk an auctioneer. Never. Shuts. Up. Talks so fast, even their Wi-Fi can’t keep up.

For job/career, you could do well as journalist, social media manager, or that one coworker who emails at 3 AM.

Chaotic bisexual, pansexual, or flirts for sport. 🏆

Handwriting: Could be unreadable. Like a doctor’s prescription.

Probably has 50 tabs opened at once.

ADHD? I've seen this placement with people who has mercury in 3rd house.

Mercury in the 4th House: "Let’s Overthink Our Childhood."📝

When they talk it sounds like a therapist even when giving food orders.

For job/career, anything home-based (Freelancer, therapist, professional nostalgic, home maker).

Writes long emotional texts and then deletes them.

They're the one that tells their sibling, "Mom always liked me better" or "You're adopted".

Handwriting: Cutesy and emotional—like a grandma’s love letter.

On their social media accounts, they posts sentimental throwbacks way too much.

Biggest Flaw: Lives in the past.

Mercury in the 5th House: "Flirting is My Second Language."📝

Flirty, dramatic, and annoyingly charming.

For job/career, anything creative—actor, writer, public speaker, meme creator.

Flirts with everyone, dates no one. Flirting in the comments section.

Was the funny but annoying child.

Can’t take anything seriously.

Mercury in the 6th House: "I think in bullet points."

If anyone asks them a question, it would sound like a Google search result.

For job/career, perfectionist boss (or their employee’s worst nightmare).

Too busy analyzing red flags to enjoy romance.

Handwriting: Neat, small, and borderline obsessive.

Leaves detailed Yelp reviews.

Mercury in the 7th House: "Let’s Discuss This… Again."📝

Speaks in "we" instead of "I" (even when they’re single).

For job/career, they are good at lawyer, diplomat, or customer service expert.

Always "the mediator" in sibling fights.

Plays marriage counselor to their parents.

Can’t be alone, but overthinks commitment.

Mercury in the 8th House: "Secrets? I Know Them All."📝

The way they talk: Low voice, deep words, big secrets.

For job/career, they're good at investigator, psychologist, hacker, or a blackmail expert.

In love, communicates in mystery and sexual tension.

Handwriting: Looks like a serial killer’s notes.

Leaves cryptic tweets.

Won’t admit their sexuality… but they are. Sometimes they could be straight, but a sibling could be gay.

Mercury in the 9th House: "I will talk your ear off about philosophy and conspiracy theories" 📝

Flirts by explaining history.

In love, turns deep convos into foreplay.

Probably thinks they’re smarter than their parents.

Posts long Reddit rants.

Handwriting: Could be messy, but big and confident.

For job/career, could excel at teacher, philosopher, or annoying podcast host.

Mercury in the 10th House: "I’m CEO of Overthinking My Career."📝

Talks like a LinkedIn post and takes life too seriously.

For job/career, could be a CEO, politician, or a corporate robot, lol.

Will literally schedule date nights.

Takes love as seriously as a business contract.

Will only befriend "useful people."

Mostly posts work-related updates.

Mercury in the 11th House: "I'm the human embodiment of a Reddit thread"📝

Speaks like they’re in a sci-fi movie.

Tech startup, social activist, or online troll.

In love, probably falls for their best friend.

Might like the idea of "open-minded" relationships.

The "black sheep" of the family.

Handwriting: Either it looks like it belongs on a protest sign or kinda bad.

Mercury in the 12th House: "Did I Say That Out Loud?"

Mumbles, forgets what they were saying.

Job/Career: Psychic, therapist, or mysterious writer. If writes, these people would write under a pen name.

Either super close to their siblings or never speaks to them.

Very much into horror, psychological thriller movies.

Handwriting: Looks like a haunted diary.

Terrible at explaining emotions but fantastic at writing it.

Mercury is where your brain lives, where your mouth runs, and where your Wi-Fi connection to reality glitches. 😆🌍✨

[scoupsakakitty]

LOOOOOVE YOUR BLOG i'm literally obsessed with idol!scoups fics and u r soooo good in writing them <333

not sure if you are open to requests but in case that you are, i'd love to see an angsty one with idol!scoups, maybe one where they fight ??? and cheol has to go on tour or work or something so they're not okay for quite a while and make up once he gets home :(((

Silent Apologies | idol!Scoups x Reader | angst, fluff

The argument had started over something small—something stupid, really—but it had escalated far beyond what either of them expected.

"You always do this, Seungcheol!" Y/N's voice wavered with frustration as she stood in the middle of their living room, arms crossed tightly over her chest. "You shut me out, and then you expect me to just be okay with it!"

Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair, his patience already frayed. "Because I don’t want to fight with you, Y/N! I’m exhausted, I have so much on my plate, and the last thing I need is another argument!"

"So what? You think I don’t get tired too? That I don’t have feelings?" Her voice cracked slightly, but she refused to let it show any weakness. "You act like you're the only one who has problems, but you're never here anymore!"

His jaw clenched. "You knew what you were getting into when we started this! My schedule isn’t something I can just change!"

"I'm not asking you to change it, Seungcheol! I'm asking you to at least talk to me about it instead of pushing me away!"

He exhaled sharply, looking away. "I can't do this right now."

Y/N scoffed, hurt flashing across her face. "Of course you can’t. You always run away the second things get hard."

That was the last straw. His temper snapped. "You think I run away? I do everything I can to keep this together! I'm trying my best, Y/N! But maybe my best isn't enough for you!"

Silence followed his outburst, thick and suffocating. The words hung between them like a wound neither could take back. Y/N swallowed, blinking away the sting in her eyes. "Maybe it’s not."

The finality in her voice made Seungcheol’s stomach drop, but he was too proud—too angry—to reach for her. Instead, he turned on his heel, grabbing his jacket. "I have a flight to catch."

Y/N watched as he walked to the door. "Fine. Go."

The door slammed behind him.

The flight to Indonesia felt longer than it should have. Seungcheol sat in his seat, staring blankly at the screen in front of him, but all he could think about was her. The look in her eyes before he left. The way her voice had cracked. The way he had let his anger win instead of fixing things.

His chest ached with regret.

By the time the concert rolled around, he was running on autopilot. His members noticed. His energy was off. His mind wasn’t there. Even as he stood in front of thousands of fans, singing and dancing like he’d done a hundred times before, his heart wasn’t in it. Because his heart was somewhere else.

With her.

When the final song ended and the cheers filled the venue, Seungcheol barely let the sound settle before he rushed backstage. He ignored the cameras, the staff, the lingering adrenaline. He needed to get home.

Y/N had spent the last two days drowning in her own guilt. She hated the way they had left things, hated the last words they had exchanged.

What if something happened to him while he was away? What if those words were the last thing they ever said to each other?

The thought alone had made her sick to her stomach. So, instead of wallowing in regret, she did what she could to make things right. She cleaned the apartment from top to bottom, made sure everything was perfect. And then, she cooked. She made all of Seungcheol’s favorite dishes, the ones he always craved after long flights. Because she knew that he would come back to her.

And then, as if her heart had called out to him, the front door swung open.

Seungcheol stood there, exhausted and breathless, his suitcase slipping from his fingers and hitting the floor with a dull thud. But Y/N didn’t care about that.

She ran to him.

His arms were around her in seconds, crushing her against his chest as if he was afraid she might disappear if he let go. "I'm so sorry," he murmured into her hair. "I shouldn't have left like that. I shouldn't have said what I did."

Tears pricked at her eyes as she buried her face in his shoulder. "I was so worried about you. I hated the way we ended things."

"Me too," he admitted, pulling back just enough to cup her face in his hands. His thumbs brushed over her cheeks, his gaze soft but filled with remorse. "I never want to fight like that again."

She nodded, leaning into his touch. "Me neither."

A small smile tugged at her lips as she grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the kitchen. "Come on, I made your favorite."

Seungcheol's eyes softened even more when he saw the food on the table. "You really made all this?"

She bit her lip, suddenly shy. "I just… I wanted to do something for you."

His heart swelled with affection. "You didn’t have to, but thank you."

They sat down together, the tension of the past few days melting away as they ate. Seungcheol kept reaching for her hand between bites, as if he needed to remind himself that she was still there, that they were okay.

And they were.

Because no matter how bad the fights got, no matter how far apart they were, they always found their way back to each other.

[hedwig221b]

hii ! do you have any recs for hale pack underestimating stiles or like stiles being underestimated generally and then he always proves them wrong? pleasee and thank uuu <3

and anon asked:

hiiiiiiiii, do you have any fic where like the pack or everyone thought stiles is weak and they always underestimated him??? i love badass stiles SO MUCH. thank uuuu!

Let's see how you like this bunch...

I Don't Need Protecting by halcyon1993

After Derek casts him out of the pack, Stiles is left completely alone, the perfect target for the newest enemy looming on the horizon. Now in the clutches of a vicious pack of alphas, tortured, mocked and fed up of being seen as weak, he's determined to prove to everyone who doubted him that you should never underestimate Stiles Stilinski.

They Never Learn by gryvon

Five times Stiles Stilinski was underestimated by someone outside his pack.

Never Underestimate Stiles Stilinski by haletostilinski

Derek is taken and tortured by hunters, who are confident that they have the upper hand. But they haven't met Stiles yet, who will stop at nothing to save Derek.

with bloody feet across the hallowed ground by owlpostagain

There were no last words. No more pleas, no more screaming. Just the sound of Stiles squeezing the trigger, the explosion of a second shot rocketing out of the revolver, and the hunters bursting through the open doorway just in time to see the bullet slam squarely into the center of Derek’s chest.

It seems wasted now by DaaroMoltor

It's been months. Months of lonely days and lonelier nights. And Stiles can't understand what he did wrong.

Wild Card by Onlymystory

Stiles doesn't really care if other people think he can fight. He knows what he can do. And he knows exactly how to save his pack when they're captured by the Alphas.

Can't rely on me by Littleredridinghunter

Set at the end of season 2, Gerard beats Stiles up, but it's a lot worse than anyone knows. The pack let him down, that's not really a surprise lately. When Danny finds Stiles nearly bleeding to death the next day it's the start of a beautiful friendship. Can the pack make amends before it's too late? Will Stiles ever forgive them for not being there for him when he needed them the most?

The Pretty Things (are going to hell) by FaeryQueen07

“You have something of mine,” Stiles says, and he reaches for his hood, pushing it back to reveal the rest of his face. Lips curled up in a smile promising pain and eyes like death, he says, “And now I’m going to take it back.”

The Boy Who Tamed the Sourwolf by AllTheseSquaresMakeACircle

Stiles is used to being second tier in everyone's life. How easily people forget him and move on to bigger and better things. Used to always being in someone's shadow. Leave it to Derek Hale to shatter those expectations.

Red Witch by rootbeer

The red hair of a banshee. The red eyes of an alpha. The red hoodie of a mage. The red of fire burning. Derek Hale has been a prisoner to the hunters since they burned his family alive. But now someone has come to save him: skinny, defenseless Stiles--147 lbs of skin and fragile bones. Turns out, sarcasm isn't his only weapon.

Lone Wolf by Kikileduc

Complete spin off after season 2, but does have season 3 and so on elements. Stiles feels forgotten, he feels left out. So he does something about it, while getting reacquainted with nature he stumbles on to something else. If the pack doesn't need him, if his dad wants him to stay out of it all, well, maybe he just needs a distraction in the form of 3 adorable wolf cubs!

And miles to go before I sleep by Heart_Of_Steel_And_Fandoms

Stiles leaves Beacon Hills at the end of Sophomore year. He's been abandoned by the pack, scarred by the hunters, and carries the equivalent of a volcano of magic inside him. Needless to say, his life sucks. But when Stiles comes back to Beacon Hills, over a year later and with a new persona, he isn't the same powerless human the pack remembers. And when demons threaten Beacon Hills, he proves to everyone that sarcasm isn't his only defence.

Dragon's Breath by trilliath

Between the hunters and the monsters that have interfered with life in Beacon Hills, the pack has had to learn a lot in the last few years, including Stiles teaching himself to practice magic in private. It's not exactly a secret from the pack, but it's not something he's shown much. When it comes time to put his skills to the test, Derek is the only one who finally gets to see Stiles's wild magic put to use saving Erica's life from a new threat in town. The aftermath changes something between them, and those tenuous lines tangling them together may mean the difference between life and death for them both.

Other fic recs: angsty fics | possessive Derek | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | smut | mafia | hurt/comfort | magical!Stiles | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack | BAMF!Stiles | omegaverse | witch!Stiles | creature!Stiles | bad friend Scott | pack mom!Stiles | unrequited love | werewolf!Stiles | dark sterek | single parent!Stiles | feral Derek | arranged marriage

[buubonita]

This is too messy but no worries i will try to explain the connections and I ADDED the "its complicated" label because i can and relationships can be and are soooo pretty complicated sometimes and your perspective of that person can always change like the weather,, or in fact, they have a dynamic that is difficult for me to explain personally.

Lets start nyao! oh boy this is LONG.

Nightmare & Dream: its complicated. They have mixed feelings all the time, there are times when they genuinely can't stand each other, but their family love remains intact, only sometimes, living together is difficult. I dont think Nightmare hates Dream genuinely, just for moments, and i am speaking more from someone who haves a twin.

I'm not saying that the situation is the same because my brother and I are not at war, lol, I'm saying that disagreeing and fighting with the person with whom you have shared memories and time since the cradle is a constant.

Dream & Blue & Ink: Found Family & friends. I just like to think that they, rather than a poly like fans insist, function more like an imperfect but still functioning family.

Dream & Ink: Friends/It's complicated. Dream and Ink have mainly disenchanted ideals, but they can coexist without resentment. I think they care about each other.

Ink & Error: enemies/frenemies. Self-explanatory.

Error, Geno & Fresh: family found. I love to think that the three of them have an inexplicable connection, something rooted in their codes. I know that Fresh is an outcode, but the body they posses, I like to think that it is a variant of Aftertale Sans (not Geno, the other Sans) <3

Blue, Sans & Fell: I love the idea my besties proposed that there are TWO Underswap Sans in the multiverse (Blueberry belongs to the Stars and Swap makes up the Sans and Fell group). They are good friends and super hilarious together <33

Reaper & Geno: Secret 3rd thing. I wont explain it here tho.

Fatal Error & Error: they hate each other to death.

Fresh and Lust: Secret 3rd option! I like to think that they actually get along really well. They go to disco nights together on Saturday nights fr.

Horror, Dust & Fell: besties. They can be besties okay, i loveeee the idea of Horror and Fell getting along with Dust as their main bond, point in common. If Fell could help Dust, he maybe could help Horror <33

Killer & Color: besties and QRP. I dont have much to say that someone hasn't already said , they are cute! Super adorable as well :3

Killer, Dust and Horror: Frienemies, its complicated. Their relationship It is quite turbulent and there are moments of horrible tension between them, the atmosphere in which they meet is not very good and does not help either, but they are companions in misfortune who try to move forward. I like to think that I could improve with the help of Color (who I forgot to put in the circle but the board already looks terrible!!!) Anyways MTT + Color is defo my thing <33

Dust & Reaper: Acquaintances. Reaper has seen Dust a lot during his endless encounters with The Player. He keeps tempting him to shake his hand like a new friend, hehe <33

Nightmare & Killer: Its complicated, enemies & secret 3rd thing. I've said it before, Killer and Nightmare's relationship is so weird, at least from my perspective, it has so much potential, so many nuances to explore that it's hard to classify what the hell they are. They don't even know what they are or what they have, they think they know each other but there are always details that escape them. Do they hate each other? Maybe. Do they need each other? Who knows. It's weird. They're fucking weird. And I love it, because Nightmare and Killer don't have the same dynamic or personal history that Nightmare and Horror and Dust do. One of my faves.

Color & Nightmare: Enemies. Its complicated. Rahhhh i have been CRAVING more Nightmare and Color content focused, how troubled Nigtjmare actions can be for Color and how it goes against his morals. Id say Color hates him, not totally, but definitely Nightmare "makes it very difficult to be able to help him" and thats a common point he haves with Dream.

Nightmare & Ccino: its complicated, secret 3rd thing aaand enemies. Ccino hates Nightmare for so many reasons, but the main one is the most wrong and absurd: he abandoned him.

Eldritch entity and totally tired mortal quth mundane life have a connection incomprehensible to the established parameters of society or regulations. My favorite.

Ccino @ everyone: is on the image but i think Ccino would know everyone at least because his café is a multiversal meeting point.

Epic & Cross: besties & QRP. They are so lovey, so cute, so beautiful, i love what they have so much.

Cross & Dream: Secret 3rd thing <33 they are very good friends and... :3c

Epic & Nightmare: Enemies & Acquaintances. Epic only knows about Nightmare through word of mouth, but he doesn't like what little he knows. I think he's secretly very resentful towards people who hurt the ones he loves (Cross, Color).

Epic & Dream: Acquaintances. I like to think that Dream is the only one who has seen Epic lose/destroy his body to the point where only his cursed eye remains intact. Something about out-of-body experiences he has suffered since he is a being of light residing in a vessel.

But in general, Epic does not interact and stays away from the apple twins because of their empathic abilities (an apple a day keeps the doctor...).

And thats it. I have a lot of other ideas that I left out the chart but imma write here hheehehe.

Like the fact that Dust and Epic could be friends (and their relationship is a bit rocky because Epic seems to treat Dust like a patient kjj and how that brings problems, as if Epic wanted to fix something of his own by helping and supporting him in his vocation as a doctor, yadda yadda)

Oooor like, fucking Reaper and the twins. Reaper seeing some of the contempt and rejection he himself suffers in his own universe??? That ALMOST inspires some pity, but I'd say it's more towards poor passive/past Nightmare than anything else.

Reaper and Dream should and are friends. I like the idea that Dream is one of the few who laughs at Reaper's shitty jokes (besides Geno) and feels bad about it because of his dark humor.

Nightmare hates Reaper becaaause, what a redundancy, what he personifies and not what he is and that is what prevents Reaper from feeling sorry for Nightmare despite having gone through similar but not at all identical situations <33

Or maybe Color and The Stars (or Color and Dream specially, please, yes?)

Prolly i am forgetting things but whatever this is long enough, i hope the artist doesn't minds ;;0;;

Again this is, like everything i say, my opinion <3

Ship chart but it’s not a ship chart it’s a friendship/found family/QPR chart

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

A deceitful Valentine's

It's Valentine's Day and Natasha is on a mission. Katya won't let the day pass by without seeing her.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC (Katya Petrova) • Wordcount: 1.9k • Warnings: sexual talk (they're horny lesbians) •A/N: not proofread because it's 1AM and i'm tired :) Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

''No, I'm not helping you so you can fuck each other's brains out in a hotel room. Or whatever it is that you lesbians do.''

''Wow,'' Katya breathed, an amused smile lingering on her lips as she watched her appalled friend shake his head. ''I thought you were a romantic.''

''Me?'' Clint scoffed, shuffling through the papers on his messy desk. He hadn't been able to look at her since she asked her question, a red tint on his cheeks. Obviously, it made him uncomfortable. Katya loved making men uncomfortable. ''Valentine's Day is a ridiculous product of capitalism, created to make us spend more money on things we don't need.''

Katya hummed knowingly, placing her hands on his desk. ''Is that why you bought Laura that perfume she's been obsessed with for months? And, oh, what is this?'' With a smirk, she plucked a Valentine's card from underneath a stack of papers on his desk. 

Swift like a cobra, Clint snatched it from her hand before she could open it. His cheeks burned as he stashed the red and pink paper deep in a desk drawer, slamming it shut loudly. ''You Russian dickheads need to stay out of my business,'' he grumbled. Natasha had been sitting next to him when he ordered that perfume, and while he thought he'd been sneaky, obviously she saw. And then told Katya.

The brunette had to fight off a malicious laugh, in the depths of her element. ''Hm… Natalia will be thrilled to hear about that card.'' She tilted her head, pursing her lips as she pretended to think hard. ''What did it read on the front, again? 'A man like me has a lot to be thankful for'?'' 

''Okay, okay!'' Clint looked like he was about to scream in frustration, slamming the papers in his hands down. He knew she was completely serious in her threats—she would tell Natasha. But Katya could keep a secret if he helped her out. ''Fine, I'll help with your plan.'' He pointed a warning finger at her. ''But if I face serious consequences because I tempered with an agent's mission, it's your responsibility.''

''Absolutely.'' Katya nodded sternly, her eyebrows knitted together. ''I'll tell them I blackmailed you with a Valentine's Day card.''

Spotting the amused glint in her eyes, Clint shook his head with exasperation. One of these days, either Katya or Natasha was going to cause him a mental breakdown because they were just so good at emotional manipulation. ''You need serious help,'' he muttered, grabbing his laptop.

~~~~

The hotel bar wasn't too busy. Most people were still enjoying their late dinner or were spending the evening with their lover, holed up in a bedroom. Natasha had seen enough of them today; couples. It's the one day of the year where people suddenly seem to remember to show affection to their partners. Dinners, movies, gifts—they were all talking about the same things, all day.

She didn't really care about Valentine's Day as a holiday. Sure, she and Katya bought a little something for each other, and tried to do something together if they got the chance to—not including the evening sex, of course—but she did it because it made Katya happy. Natasha was a moreso a believer of showing her appreciation all year 'round. Leaving a sweet note, taking her out for dinner, planning a movie night with snacks, running Katya a bath, giving her a massage. 

But Natasha would be lying if she said that she didn't miss her a little more today. This mission had been dragging on for three weeks. And while she had hoped to be home tonight, she was sitting in a five star hotel's fancy bar, all dressed up, sipping on her Dirty Martini, because Clint had given her new intel. Seducing a man, of all things, when she had a sexy, attractive woman waiting for her at home, must be the universe's type of karma. 

Lazily, she stirred her drink, seeing the bartender move around in her peripheral vision. The stools beside her were empty, the atmosphere calm; soft, classical music playing in the background. It was boring. Clint didn't say what time her target's ''business associate'' would arrive. She could be sitting there for hours. Her mind wasn't as focused as it should be, her thoughts drifting away from her.

It took her a moment too long to realize that somebody was sitting down on her left, gracefully settling down on the high stool with a quiet rustle. There was a flash of red silk, and then a whiff of a deep, sensual perfume. 

Natasha stiffened, her body already knowing what her mind didn't want to believe yet. Slowly, from the corner of her eye, she looked her neighbor up and down, her gaze lingering on their chest and exposed neck. It was the most elegant, exquisite picture she'd ever seen, the red silk dress draping around her figure like liquid. Most of her back was exposed, a decent amount of cleavage showing while the fabric ran all the way to her ankles in loose waves, accentuating the curves Natasha could draw with her eyes closed. 

This was the type of woman men used to go to war for.

Natasha's heart started to race in her chest. "Fuck," she muttered under her breath as she averted her eyes forward again, fighting to keep her cool. Preferably, she'd rip that dress off her body right here, right now, but she had a mission to run. Although she was starting to get an inkling that she might have been misled. "You're not supposed to be here."

"Would you like something to drink, ma'am?" The bartender had materialized in front of them.

Katya smiled charmingly and placed her clutch on the bar. "A Vodka-Martini, please."

''Coming right up.''

Natasha followed the man with her eyes as he walked off to make her order. Next to her, Katya casually touched up her lipstick. Fuck, it was her favorite. "I'm assuming there's no "business associate" I'm meeting tonight?"

"I thought you'd rather have me instead,'' Katya said, tapping at her lip with her ring finger. Her complete lack of fucks given about interrupting her mission and using Clint to lure her here with a lie was both annoying and amusing. Natasha wanted to be more pissed, but in reality, she was really happy to see her.

"You're not wrong, but I am supposed to be on duty around the clock."

"Screw the mission,'' Katya declared, tossing her lipstick and mirror back in her clutch before turning to face her girlfriend. She tilted her head, a smile on her perfectly kissable lips. ''It's Valentine's Day. We're not supposed to be apart."

Part of Natasha's brain wasn't working correctly. Katya's alluring appearance had hypnotized her. She wasn't sure if she wanted to sculpt her beauty into marble for all eternity to see, or worship her body all night until it was covered in drops of sweat. "So you sabotaged my mission because you missed me too much?" She smirked, finally giving in and turning her body in Katya's direction.

The brunette shrugged, something mischievous flashing across her face. "Maybe I'm just incredibly horny."

Caught off guard by her bold statement, Natasha nearly lost her composure. "Are you?" She mused, ignoring the twitch low in her stomach.

Instead of answering, Katya smirked confidently. "Are you?"

"Definitely." She couldn't lie—or joke—about the impact Katya had on her, her teasing demeanor fading into an intense, lustful one as she took the time to take in Katya's appearance once more. "You look fucking incredible," she muttered, noting how Katya shifted on her stool at the desire in her voice.

In that dress, she was an expensive, rich wine from France and Natasha was the alcoholic who hadn't had a drop in three weeks. It took every ounce of self-control to stay seated. Her throat was dry, her hands were itching. 

Reluctantly tearing her gaze away, Natasha reached for her drink and took a big sip. It didn't fix her burning throat, but the sensation brought her back to Earth. "Maybe I should leave more often so you can interrupt my missions looking like this," she joked.

Katya chuckled, slowly circling the rim of her Martini glass with her finger. "Or, you can take me out to dinner sometime, give me a reason to dress up." Her gaze met Natasha's. "Maybe to one of those posh restaurants where I would actually have to wear underwear to."

Natasha's fingers tightened around her glass, her wide eyes flickering to Katya's hips. "Baby…" Katya had prepared for this night to end one way, and with how she was working her up, Natasha knew it was going to be good. She smiled to herself, excitement flooding her veins. "I'm gonna buy Clint such a big bottle of Vodka when I get back."

"I don't think he's gonna be able to look at us for a while. It's pretty obvious what I was planning when I asked him to help us meet up. At night. In a hotel."

"Oh, yeah?" Natasha smirked.

Katya raised an eyebrow. "If I'm still able to walk out of here by myself tomorrow, I'm gonna make you pay for this dress."

Natasha chuckled, reaching out and slowly trailing her fingertips up Katya's arm. They left a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "How about this: I ruin your pretty makeup, your ability to walk, and I pay for the dress?"

"That better be a promise." Katya's lips held a daring smirk, her body still as Natasha's fingers had reached her collarbone. "My mascara is waterproof."

"Do you doubt me?" Natasha asked, her hand ghosting over Katya's throat. A shiver ran through the brunette's body as her pupils dilated. 

"I know you like to talk big."

Natasha pulled her hand away to place it over her heart. "Katariina, you're breaking my heart."

"I didn't know you had one to break," Katya mused.

"It's a little messed up, but it's yours."

Between all the flirting and sexual tension, this half-hearted, soft joke came out of nowhere. Katya had to take a second to switch around. "Where did you learn to sweet-talk like that?''

Natasha shrugged, turning away to take another sip of her drink. ''A place where I met this girl.''

Katya's smile turned knowingly, warmth swirling in her chest. She loved it whenever Natasha spoke about falling in love with her. ''There's always a girl."

''This one was special. She cared. And nobody had ever cared about me." Their eyes met. Natasha's started to sparkle with a amusement. "Oh, and she had the most beautiful blue eyes.''

Katya fought the urge to roll them. ''She sounds nice.''

''She's more than just nice." Placing a hand on her thigh, Natasha leaned in more with every word, until their faces were only inches apart. Her breath fanned over Katya's chin. "She's brave, and kind, and stunning, and so incredibly smart…''

A low hum fell from Katya's lips, her gaze flickering from the redhead's mouth to her eyes. Her heart raced in her chest. ''You're trying to get in my pants.''

''I thought you weren't wearing any.''

Katya smiled amusedly, her thigh tensing up when Natasha's hand started to creep higher. This was exactly how she hoped this night would go. ''So, how did things end with that girl?''

Her breath hitched when she caught the look on Natasha's face. So lustful. If all of that was going to be released tonight, then her girlfriend would for sure make good on her promise. 

Katya's stomach swirled heavy with anticipation as Natasha brought her mouth to her ear. ''With her underneath me, naked, in a hotel room, her pretty dress on the floor, screaming my name as I make her cum for the sixth time in one night.''

And then they have bed-breaking, wall-shaking, earth-shattering sex

A/N: Please consider reblogging if you liked this fic. It really helps me :)

[raycatz]

Hi Ray!! Hope you're doing fine ^^

Kinda random question, but I guess Wind is your favourite Link so, do you have headcanons for him?!

And if not, who's your favourite blorbo? >:·3

(no pressure to answer this ask tho hehe!)

Hiya Perry!

My favorites go like this! >:D

(Hyrule and Wild are fighting for 4th with Hyrule at a lead lol. He's grown on me since getting to know Zola! xD )

I can share some headcanons for the top three! (I got excited getting an ask from you so I drew a couple things and wrote a lot ashgfjsdfs. The post got long so I'll thrown in a read more somewhere.)

Four

Reading buddies with Twi. They tell each other about what they're reading. Sky and Wind like to listen and ask questions.

Pegasus boots + Roc's cape = some pretty impressive jumps (eight-foot vertical leap Griffin McElroy meme.) He's only outmatched by Rulie. Four and Legend should compete to see who has the greater horizonal distance.

Four loves purple sweet potatoes! It's sweet, umami, filling, and how often do you get to eat something that's purple? It's kind of an expansion of/inspired by a hc + art by w1lmutt. (imo Four's a fan of purple food in general. Four and that one girl from Tarrey Town are the biggest fans of Wild's monster cake recipe.) Set Four up with a purple potato right off of the fire and he's doing great. (Do you think he could have a potato cooking on the side while working at the forge? in like a dutch oven? put the potato in the forge!!!)

The name of the forge is the Four Element Forge (which I first read in blueskullcandy's fics! ("Alone Together" I think?))

Four has a cat! Tongs the Benevolent has my whole heart. (Tongs is also the creation of blueskullcandy @fuckit-hero-of-trains. Hi Train! Here's a little fic of them meeting x. here's art I made of her x. here's Train's tag for her x! More!)

Four with headaches / migraines. There has to be some trope about inflicting the clever/thinker character with head hurty and I'm here for it with Four. Any pain can make it difficult to think, but having that pain be concentrated to the head is more poignant, idk xD something to impede a strength of his. I also think that Four having migraines that are worsened by light is poetic, as being hurt by light gives him something in common with Shadow.

(Four with a headache with Tongs and Twi helping <3 )

Thoughts on the Four Sword's abilities: Can the elemental magic infused into the sword be tapped into and does it still have the ability to make ghost / prism refraction copies?

(img from IGN)

cont. In Minish Cap, as you power up the White Sword with the elemental stones, you're able to summon copies of Link. However, Link can only do this over specific tiles, the prisms run on a timed meter, and if they're hit they vanish. It's like a magic meter! I headcanon that Four isn't great with magic himself. However, if the prisms are summoned by magic, then what if it's Four channeling his magic into the White Sword to get that to happen. (also, maybe he's been relying on help from the tiles or Ezlo.) At the end of Minish Cap, he put the sword back and that was that. At the start of FS/FSA however, something changed when he pulled the sword, causing him to split fully. Maybe the sword needed something different from him. Maybe he was so frantic about Zelda being kidnapped and needing to defend himself from Shadow that he poured too much magic into the sword and it changed him. Maybe the sword's power upgraded. Whatever happened, he no longer has access to the prism ability of the Four Sword and instead splits, with splitting not being a drain on his magic. Four has just assumed that the prisms is an ability the Four Sword no longer has. Put the Four Sword into the hands of someone else with magic, though, and this isn't the case! (or maybe it's a scenario with an earlier iteration of the sword.) I have a scenario in my head where Four is separated from it in battle and Wind picks it up. Wind channels some magic into it on reflex for a spin attack or something and the prism copies pop up much to EVERYONE'S SURPRISE. Wind would think it's So Cool. Why haven't you shown us this before??!! Meanwhile Four just, honestly didn't know it could do that anymore. Cue Four Sword show-and-tell because what could be the harm (Four doesn't have to tell about the splitting thing and maybe the chain can help him learn about the copies) Wind, Legend, Time, and Hyrule can pull them up with ease. Put the sword into the hands of Hyrule or Legend who are more familiar with magic, however, and I think they could tap into the elements infused into the blade. Each of the copies channel a different element: being wind, fire, ice, and stone (with the Four Sword itself being Light.) Hyrule's able to move the copies around independently of each other but it takes a lot of focus. Legend on the other hand is better with the elemental stuff but he can feel there's something more to the Four Sword. Like, "Four, the magic well in this item is pretty deep / unstable. I don't want to tell you how to use your items, but careful not to put too much into this." Four: *wtf wtf wtf.* Or Legend would try pushing the boundaries of the sword, start going weird and flickery, and would be hastily stopped by Four.

Wind

He and Aryll meow at each other! >:3c He meows during a side-quest and I want an excuse for him to do it more often. I think he and Aryll are very much the type to make weird noises in greeting.

Cartography and navigation buff! Phantom Hourglass has you marking up the map so I think it's something Wind's good at and enjoys. Celestial navigation is in there too. Beyond using the stars to navigate, I think he's into star stories. Each constellation has a story that Wind is happy to retell. He wants to collect as many and their variations between eras as possible.

Wind has to admit that Twi, Sky, and Wild's pumpkin soup is pretty good (not as good as Grandma's, but still pretty dang good.) He got a pumpkin sprout in Sky's era and it lives in one of his bottles. Its name is Soup!

Fandom headcanons I've picked up that I'm fond of: Wind can see ghosts, Wind needs new shoes and isn't super jazzed about all this walking, Wind's family shield is passed down from Four, Wind is scared of / intimidated by large birds which opens up storytelling opportunities with Sky's loftwing, (honorable mention to the WW headcanon that Link's nearsighted due to him squinting in cutscenes. I don't hc it for LU Wind but it's neat to see it picked up! (ex: Wind from Linked Maze!))

Legend

I love Sister_Dear's writing (@sister-dear hi Sister 😳) and my interpretation of Legend reflects that. (here's Sister's list of Legend headcanons lol) (Keso's art is a big influence as well.)

Legend with arthritis / chronic pain in his hands/knees. It's just nice to see nods to it. Legend massaging his hands, or using a cane (louieeeee!), or grumbling about the weather. There's a headcanon that goes along with it that he has rings which lessen the symptoms.

Legend as poly and bi for Marin and Ravio. Courtesy of Wolfy (@wolfy1298) and this comic.

Genderfluid Legend. I like Sister's bullet-point, "Goes by ‘he’ but feels fairly ambivalent about the pronoun. Doesn't like to present as overly masculine. (Either a case of Legend being all ‘fuck gender roles’ or his Hyrule just having different gender norms.) Likes putting on dresses and makeup when the opportunity arises, doesn't like to do his hair." That! But I like to add that Legend will swap pronouns as well on what feels best. Hand-Me-Downs by That_G3_Obsessive (@that-g3-artist 👋) is a favorite of mine and has beautiful representation of genderfluid/queer Legend. Legend figures Wind could use some better fitting clothes, and shifting through Legend's wardrobe leads Wind to ask about the dresses there.

(has Taako from The Adventure Zone vibes going on in presentation and snark. Love me a bunny toothed GNC gay elf wizard twin who has a secret they don't want anyone to know and who's done with this shit. Please appreciate Taako thank you yippee yahoo!)

(Tried drawing Taako to mixed results but I think Legend would dig his vibe!)

I tried to throw in a number of hcs~ideas that are more personal / that I haven't had the opportunity to show through fanwork yet. To be fair, sooo many of the headcanons I have for the chain though are an amalgamation of things picked up from the fandom (I could go on with Legend and bunny mannerisms or Four with portal sickness xD ). There's a lot of really great work put together by so many people. It's wonderful to get to be a part of it!

Thank you for the ask Perry!!! >:D

[effetsecndaires]

— 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥!

➺ PAIRING | gyutaro shabana x fem!reader.

➺ CONTENT WARNING | a little suggestive towards the end. 0,9k words not proofread

➺ NOTE | happy valentine's day to those who don't celebrate 🧚🏻‍♀️ I wanted this to be a janitor bot at first but I didn't want to 'waste' the idea on a bot :') I'm gonna be honest with y'all, the last few months have been pretty rough. I hate everything I write, and it's only getting worse with time. Im not sure if i'll ever get out of that state of mind at this point but oh well, haha. it is what it is I guesssss

Gyutaro had never cared about Valentine's Day before he met you.

Now, he’s pretty sure it’s his favorite day of the year. Not because he likes the holiday itself—no, he still thinks it’s ridiculous how people cling to shallow gestures and empty words, acting as if love only matters once a year when it’s wrapped in ribbons and chocolate. But you? You made it different. You made it meaningful.

This year, you had insisted on celebrating, saying something about making up for all the years he never got to experience it. Gyutaro had scoffed at the idea, grumbling about how pointless it was. But deep down, a part of him—one he barely admitted to himself—had been looking forward to it for weeks. (Not that he’d ever say it out loud.)

So now here he is, lying on your futon, watching as you carefully set up a tray with all the things you’ve prepared for him. Handmade chocolates, a cup of warm tea, and a tiny wrapped gift.

“You’re spoiling me too much, y'know,” he murmurs, scratching absently at his arm. His nails dig a little too hard into his skin but he barely notices. A small, barely noticeable smirk creeps onto his lips as he tilts his head at you. “Aren’t you worried I’ll start expecting this every year?”

“Maybe that’s my plan,” you tease back, kneeling beside him. Before he can respond, you lean in to press a soft kiss to his lips, the tender gesture making him freeze.

God. Why'd you have to be so goddamn perfect? He hates it. Hates how easily you manage to drive him crazy with the simplest touch. How badly he wants more. How he's already fighting his own body so that he doesn't pounce on you and take your right here and there on this futon before you even have the chance to go through with the date. He’s pathetic, isn’t he? The thought makes him dig his nails a little deeper into his palm — but before it can get to the point of drawing blood, your hand is on his wrist, gentle as always, guiding his fingers away from his skin.

“Hey. None of that, baby.” you interrupt his train of thoughts, bringing his knuckles to your lips. “No self-loathing allowed on Valentine's day, 'kay?"

Gyutaro immediately looks away and huffs, heat quickly creeping up his neck. Fuck. He loves you. He loves you. He loves you so fucking much his throat tightens with the need to scream it on top of the roofs. He's not sure why the universe suddenly decided to bless him with a love like yours, but, hell. He isn't about to take it for granted.

With a slightly trembling hand, he plucks one of the chocolates from the tray in front of him and pops it into his mouth, desperately needing to shift the focus off himself.

“You made those yourself? Eh, they're not bad, I guess..." he teases, letting out a quiet hum of approval.

“Not bad?” you gasp. “I spent all evening making these, and all you’ve got for me is ‘not bad’?”

Gyutaro grins, watching the way your lips purse in mock indignation. The way you tease him so effortlessly, like he’s just a guy and not the ugly loser he knows himself to be — it makes something warm stir inside him, his dick hardening and twitching traitorously in his pants. But he ignores it, not wanting to out himself as a complete creep to the girl he loves. Instead, he reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch surprisingly delicate. His fingers brush against your cheek, feeling the heat of your skin beneath them.

“Yeah, alright, fine..." he rolls his eyes playfully. “They’re perfect. Just like you.”

Your eyes widen for a moment, your lips parting and closing again in shock. Then you let out a laugh, tilting your head to press a kiss to the heel of his palm. “Mhm, that’s better.”

“Hey, don’t get all cocky with me now,” His smirk widens, fingers intertwining with yours. “It’s not every day I hand out compliments, y’know. Don't get used to it.”

You squeeze his hand, your fingers tracing idle patterns against his skin. “Well, I guess that just makes them even more special, then.”

Gyutaro doesn’t argue. The truth is, he'll probably shower you with compliments every day after that. He knows it, and he knows you do too.

His heart beats an unsteady rhythm against his ribs, but he finds he doesn’t mind. He likes this. Likes you.

When you shift closer and tug him into your arms, Gyutaro doesn't resist. He lets you guide his head to rest against your chest and exhales a long breath, his entire body relaxing when your fingers start threading through his messy, tangled hair.

A long silence settles between you then, but it isn’t uncomfortable. He tightens his grip on you, letting his fingers curl into the fabric of your clothes as if that will somehow ground him.

Gyutaro closes his eyes, letting himself enjoy the slow, steady rise and fall of your chest as you kiss the crown of his head. For once, he doesn’t feel like a monster. He doesn’t feel like something broken. He's just... a man, held in the arms of someone who loves him. And for the first time in a long, long time, he thinks that maybe—just maybe—happiness isn’t entirely out of his reach.

[havocandcchaos]

THIS THIS THIS THIS THIS THIS THIS

Glinda is insanely flawed and insanely human, and she is us in the story. And so many people ignore that because it's uncomfortable. it's easier to say she's wholly good or wholly evil because then you can condemn her or praise her instead of stopping and looking in a mirror. The wizard was right when he said very few people are ok with moral ambiguities, and most of the audience doesn't fall into that category, and that's why so much of the musical is being diminished to simpler and easier terms. Which DEFEATS THE WHOLE POINT.

Glinda is easier to accept when she's evil. Elphaba is easier to accept when she's perfect. Fiyeros is easier to accept when he's madly in love. They're all easier to accept when they're not human.

Except the whole point is that they are.

Glinda is terrified the whole show, and that's what drives her. She's scared of being alone. She's scared of loving Elphie. She's scared of the world around her. She is scared of death. She's scared of losing Elphie. Ultimately, it's that last one that wins out because she loses Fiyero, and in her mind, she basically already lost Elphie, but she won't let her die, too. Not if she can help it. And then she can't help it. Elphaba Thropp is dead. And every single one of her fears came true. She was right the whole time. They were never gonna win. They were in a tragedy, and she knew it, and she was right about it. But by god, she's got nothing left to lose but her life, and frankly, she doesn't want it that much anymore anyway, so she takes up Elphaba's cause and she fights, and if it kills her then let it.

Elphaba makes mistake after mistake after mistake, but she's on the "right" side, so she's clearly perfect. Elphaba fails. Life for the Animals in Oz only gets worse, and sure, she saves a few people and changes a few minds, but at the end of the day, she isn't able to do much more than make things worse. She made things easier for Morrible and the Wizard. But she is the protagonist, so she is perfect instead of learning from her mistakes and realizing that revolutions don't work if you're only fighting for one small group without finding a way to loop in more people and make more people care.

(I believe humans are naturally empathetic. I also believe we have that beat out of us before we can walk. Most people aren't going to fight to change a system that isn't actively killing them. It can be hurting them or killing them slowly, but if they're not actively full of bullets, they're not going to exert the energy to change. And even if they are full of bullets, by then, they'll feel it's too late.)

And Fiyero, god bless him, is so dumb. That boy wants to die from the moment we meet him, and Elphaba gives him a way to do it. Yes, he loves her, but god, he's just tired, and he mostly just wants out, and if he can have that for a good cause, then all the better. There is a lot to learn from Fiyero, but when he's whittled down to a perfect man in love, he is no longer any different from every basic love interest and everything he brings is lost (just like he wanted it to be)

I cannot stress enough how much I love the movie and how much I love that it's becoming more mainstream because that means more content for me to consume about it, but oh my god, if I see one worse take about these characters, especially from people how HAVEN'T EVEN SEEN PART 2, I will start throwing hands.

If you simplify the characters, then you lose the whole point of their story, to begin with, and this story is too important for that. Especially right now. Especially when we're living Act 2. were not all Elphaba. Most of us are Glinda. And that's ok, so long as you use this story to learn from all of them and try to do better.

We can't lose them. Not right now.

This is all @polyarmy and @fiyeroba ‘s fault for making me sad about Glinda again so now I’m posting my whole Glinda Meta here (originally an obnoxiously long dm sent to @gamorahww who is a patient saint)

You’ve asked for it, and now you get……The Glinda Meta™

First: I have been obsessed w/ Glinda's character for like 15 years. She is my roman empire. But I also really LIKE her as a flawed character - something that the fandom has always seemed to be a little uncomfortable with.

She is, to me, what Jane Austen once wrote about Emma:

“I am going to write a heroine whom no one but myself will much like.”

Full meta character analysis under the cut. Uh. Strap in.

(This gets a lil long sorry, but PLEASE HEAR ME OUT -)

To me, the interesting thing is what actually - ACTUALLY - motivates Glinda to act the way she does is so much greater and deeper than a simple desire for success/fame/popularity.

Like obviously in literature/critique of narrative, we have this idea of protagonists vs supporting characters. Supporting characters might have philosophies or goals that drive them (think Nessa and Boq) but those philosophies and goals are usually not developed into self-contradictory nuance the way a protagonist's motivations are. They’re just facts about the character.

And in my option, a big problem in the wicked fandom is that everybody seems to treat Glinda as a supporting character whose motivations are easy to digest. To most fans, she's either the girlfriend who is there to support Elphaba's story by being "loving but conflicted." Or to critics she's entirely selfish and cruel (even as she's fun and interesting), and therefore a semi-antagonist

But if you step back and treat Glinda as a true antihero protagonist of Wicked (for the sake of the mental character study), you see that she's not actually motivated by love or popularity or even success....what drives her is desperation.

Glinda sees her world as a place that cannot be changed and will only work to destroy those who cannot correctly operate in it. And she is SO DESPERATE to avoid that. Elphaba's fate is actually her worst fear - she cannot break away from society and leap to a new fate, because she is the ultimate cynic who thinks there is no way that could possibly work. In fact, it's an enormous testament to her love (however you want to intepret that) of Elphaba that she's even willing to consider leaving during Defying Gravity. For a brief moment, her immense, incredible faith in Elphaba is almost enough to overcome her complete desperation to survive the horrible world she thinks she's in.

And that obviously means that she's not as noble as Elphaba or as brave as Fiyero as a character - she cannot make the choice to leave when both of them do at different points - but that's because she's the most "human" character in the story. Most people are not brave enough to become international terrorists, even in the face of great evil. We might join in a developed cause, but to knowingly walk towards what is likely one's death to change a system you know you’ll actually have very little effect on...that takes a very special kind of person. And while Glinda is a GOOD person, she is too much a cynic and too desperate to survive her crazy world to become that impossible standard of the Rebel or the Hero. She's just a flawed, scared girl, in circumstances she never dreamed she’d be in.

And then the craziest thing happens:

Rather than showing Glinda that she should have been brave and done what E and F did, the narrative instead goes and basically confirms all her darkest fears: Elphaba rebels...and her revolution fails, and Glinda loses her best friend to bitter hatred and insanity for most of Act 2. Fiyero decides to leave and do the right thing by going with Elphaba....and he is almost immediately murdered in a horrible, violent way as punishment for it. This can only reinforce for Glinda that the State/the System/the World is all-powerful, and she must bow to it.

But that's the most fascinating moment for her character, because the very moment she realizes the absolute overwhelming power of the system (March of the Witch Hunters) is also the very moment that chooses to die rather than perpetuating it. She leaves the City to approach Elphaba - whom Glinda thinks POSSIBLY WANTS TO KILL HER - and BEGS Elphaba to not die. Begs Elphaba to stop her self-sacrificial madness. Begs Elphaba to allow Glinda to sacrifice herself instead ("Then I'll go, I'll tell everybody the truth!" "No! They'll just turn against you!" "I DON'T CARE!" - this girl who is entirely motivated by survival is straight up throwing it all on the line ready to walk to her death at the hands of a mob with wide open, unblinking eyes)

And obviously, in doing so, she is making the same choice that Fiyero did earlier in the story, But the huge difference is that Fiyero is a classic case of a "dead from the beginning" character, and he does not have the same motivations as her. He starts as a nhilist already embracing death in Dancing Through Life and his character is not somebody who is desprate to survive - his character is driven by a desperation for a faith. And Elphaba (and her cause) is his faith that he happily martyrs himself for.

By contrast, Glinda is terrified of the system that is trying to kill her, and she is desperate to survive it. She sees the way it takes everything form her, again and again, destroying everything she loves - Elphaba, Fiyero, her own sense of goodness…

(And she is extremely genre-aware that she is in a tragedy: her world isn't fair, and she knows that Elphaba will fail. She knows this will all go wrong.)

But Glinda still has such strength of character that she - in the end - overcomes all of her fear, all of her weaknesses, and humbles herself at the pyre to join the people she loves so much in their fate. She both offers to die for Elphaba and she takes up Elphaba's work and dedicates her entire life to it, consequences be damned. And that comes from a place of ultimate love and goodness, despite all of her flaws and all the temptations dissuading her.

Because Glinda is not Elphaba or Fiyero - she isn't a starry-eyed optimistic rebel or a man with a obsessive, loving faith. She is just a girl. Just Emma. And she is extremely flawed, and has so many fears that push and pull at her in a way the other main characters do not experience. But despite being so painfully, humanly defective, her goodness allows her to do the right thing in the end.

tl;dr - the greatest thing about Glinda’s character is that she is flawed, and she is weak and makes all the wrong choices. But in the end, she humbles herself completely - to the point of offering her own life for Elphaba and taking the whole weight of the world on her shoulders despite all her fear - because she is ultimately good.

And thus in the end, she becomes the person that Elphaba so clearly sees her as throughout the story: good, caring, and able to make real change in the world. She will now try desperately to fully live up to Elphaba's incredible faith in her. And it's so heartbreaking and tragic, but also one of the best character arcs ever.

So I guess it's less "wants to stay safe in her bubble" and more "she sees no option other than to stay safe. The State/System is all-powerful and there is nothing she thinks she can do to change that. But the beauty of the character lies in her decision to step out of that bubble anyways."

—

BONUS: Glinda’s flaws in relation to her relationship with Elphaba

(Or why Gelphie is a devastating ship (romantically or not) but not in the way you think)

This section dedicated to the SJB/AA performance that just BREAKS ME.

Elphaba basically sees Glinda through some WILDLY rose-tinted glasses (which is just. such a fascinating insight into elphaba’s character). Which is why a good chunk of the fandom accepts it as fact that Glinda is ~not actually all that flawed~ or is somehow being forced to make the decisions she is (she is not. the narrative point of Fiyero’s character is to prove that lol)

Glinda is very much complicated and does make some truly terrible decisions. Elphaba just sees and believes the good in her, despite everything she does (because it’s also a fact of the story that - either platonically or romantically - she’s clearly a little in love with Glinda. (The passes she gives that girl…)). I don’t think her weird thing about Glinda is particularly rational, but it is undeniably all-consuming.

And that makes their relationship feel VERY human. Their flaws don't make them unworthy of each other’s love and respect and friendship. Elphaba's love of Glinda is pretty crazy in light of how much Glinda’s morals and choices differ from her own, but that’s the kind of love that real, sometimes illogical people have. Anybody trying to prove the logic or compatibility of the characters is kinda missing the point - it doesn’t make sense, and THAT’S how you know it’s love.

(Brief aside: similar to Elphaba’s obsession with Glinda, Fiyero is also irrationally obsessed with Elphaba. I mean, she kinda sucks at the whole revolution thing (she's trying!!) and he's clearly starry-eyed ignoring a LOT of her flaws lol. In contrast - for better or worse, Glinda does see Elphaba's flaws and calls them out, just as Elphaba sees Fiyero's flaws and calls him out. It’s a nice little circular relationship)

But…but….is it gay???

Sure. I think so - but I’m a lesbian who has shipped it since I was a preteen lol. But that’s also NOT THE POINT, and focusing on only the romantic angle of their relationship REALLY ignores just how layered and complex it is.

Taking off my squee shipping glasses for a minute: they’re fundamentally just two people in some version of an EXTREMELY intense relationship. I honestly think Glinda reads as a little terrified of how insanely intense her relationship is with Elphaba. She fears walking down that road and fully falling into that intense, all-consuming love. (And we literally learn why later through Fiyero’s ‘death’ and Elphaba’s insanity - love makes you do some crazy things, and Glinda can’t afford that in this world.)

Regardless of whether you interpret them romantically or not - it’s clear they’re very intense about each other and Glinda is very afraid that Elphaba is her weakness. Unfortunately, Elphaba is also her soulmate and the love of her life, and she’ll always come back again. That fact will ruin Glinda’s life in the end, but it will have been worth it for all the love that was there

[ziminy]

If you love me tonight

You moved in with Toji out of convenience, however, you two started to get along way too good, it's getting suspicious

Tags: smut, minors and ageless blogs do not interact, f!reader, college au, friends with benefits, roommates, oral (f!receiving) (lots of it), both of you have a crush on each other, fingering, virginity loss, humping, bad language, phone sex, basically just me writing this with my inexistent dick, not proofread

Author's note: happy valentine to all my girlies out there. I can't be there to make your day better but hope this fic will 😘

Author's note: I was going to post this sooner but I was out the whole day and didn't got the time to.

Masterlist roommatesmasterlist

You were in the same friend group, because somehow, out of nowhere, you were dragged into this group of dorks one day while walking around the school. And now you're stuck with them. Even so, you and Toji never really talked.

Yes you do have each other's numbers, yes you follow every single one of his social media accounts and he followed yours. And yes, you were seeing each other every single day. But you never really had the balls to talk to him.

It was something about him that made you feel intimidated. The whole group had you like that for the first two weeks since they adopted you, but you got over it after one night of partying too hard, almost puking in Satoru's car while he was taking you home. Waking up the next day with the whole gang in your place, scattered all over your room and sleeping like they didn't had other places to be.

You realized that they're idiots, every single one of them. It didn't matter how scary Sukuna looked with his tattoos and his shitty attitude, because deep down he was just a dumbass who was awkward at making jokes. He was so bad at them that the first few times you actually took his words seriously.

Or the trio, Gojo, Geto and Shoko who were just them. You don't really have anything to say about them since you see them so much you feel like the forth wheel to their tricycle.

The only normal person in that group was Nanami, but even he could lose control over himself. Like when he's drunk. How can you forget about the time you managed to steal his watch right from his wrist because he fell asleep while talking. You gave it back, but you still think about it from time to time and you still can't believe it how much he changes.

And you can't forget about Choso who when you first met him you thought he was going to drink your blood because he was dresses like a vampire lord. He looked so edgy, how could you have known that he cries while watching princess movies. Which, you're still surprised about it and you promised not to talk about it ever again. For his own good.

Now, it's not like you don't want to get close to Toji, it's just that unlike the others, he was the same as when you first met him. The same charismatic smile on, the same fuck ass attitude and how he seems to keep everybody at a relatively close distance. He was open about everything, but at the same time he looked like he was always lying. And you didn't know if you should take him seriously or pass it as a joke.

You were scared, and maybe it was from the way he posses, the way he dresses and talks. He wasn't trying to impress anybody, and it made you wander how he ended up in the group. Because he always seems to want to pick fights from the way he interacts with others.

That scar of his, you know it was rude to stare, but you just could not stop. It made your eyes instantly move on him when he opens his mouth, because it was something about the way his lips moves, and that shit eating grin. He was bad and he knows it, that's perhaps what made you afraid of him.

"Y/N, what happened?" it was a rainy night when the white haired man opened his door, revealing you who was soaked from head to toes, still in pijamas and a bag with what he could only guess were the essentials in your arms.

"I got in a fight with my roommates. Can I come in?" you said like you didn't just ran from home.

"What happened this time?" he knew your situation wasn't really bright but he didn't thought it was that bad.

"I don't know. Just woke up with them screaming at me. Women, what can I say." you shrugged, not understanding what got into them either. "Anyway, can I sleep here tonight?"

"Of course. Go take a bath, we'll talk about this after." you didn't thought much when you opened the front door, just running to the closest person that lives near to you. It was moments like these where you're glad you didn't blocked Gojo the first time he tried to get in your dms.

"So, what happened?" Shoko asked, looking at you who just got out the shower. Satoru was exaggerating, he shouldn't have called the whole group there.

"My roommates wants me out the house." not really surprising from the way they kept acting for the past few weeks.

"You should move out. Those girls are out of control." the blonde said, looking like he was dragged out of bed to be there, still in pijamas. But it wasn't surprising that he rushed there when he heard your name being involved.

"I agree. This is going nowhere." Suguru was right, your situation only escalated with each day that passed.

"Want me to get rid of them?" omg, Sukuna shut up.

"So, again. What happened this time?" at least Shoko was the normal one in there.

"They want to get their boyfriends in or something. But there's not enough space because of me apparently." maybe it was your fault too for not trying to get to know your roommates. But you can't blame yourself since they're attitudes turned you off.

"We'll find a new place, don't worry." you hoped so too.

"Daddy will pay for it. I'll get you an apartment in the same building as me." the white haired man said, making you shake your head instantly. You'll never be able to financially recover from this if he does that.

"I want a small place, just a room is alright if I can sleep in peace." it wasn't just about you here. I mean, sure, your opinion counts, but how can a room be enough for everybody? If you get a place it wasn't just yours, it belonged to the whole group somehow. Because what does privacy even means when you have such a big group of friends.

And so, from the moment the sun came out the next day, everybody started looking for a place cozy enough to fit your imagine, a home that you could call your own with a smile on your face. And big enough to not look like a doll house.

Everybody was on their own, because why working together when you can work individually and get the thing done even faster? However, you didn't expected Toji to approach you when you were at school, hands in his pocket and looking just as nonchalantly as ever. Does he ever get bored of wearing just black clothes?

"Heard you're looking for a place." not a hi, how are you. He just got straight to the subject. Well, he wasn't good at small talk to begin with, and because of that he often comes out as rude.

"Oh, yeah. I am." you nodded, looking at the big man who seems to have been working out more lately.

"Me too." really? You had no idea. "Looking for a roommate or something? We could share the rent." i mean, it didn't sounded bad. That way you had more options to chose from, since you won't be living alone.

"Sure. Why not." that was surprisingly easy. He thought you would say no or something about how you'll think about it. But if you're being honest, you don't think you could live alone. You're always surrounded by people. At home and here, you're never alone, and you have no idea what to if you're by yourself.

And now, you had to let others know about it. But if you're thinking about this, you don't think you can do it. I mean, you know that they'll exaggerate. How could you accepted someone's else help when they're trying so hard. But to your surprise, this wasn't as hard as you thought.

Everybody accepted your choice without a single complain. So what if you're moving in with a guy, they knew him. After all, Toji was one of their idiots, and everybody knew how he was so busy that he's rarely home to begin with. There's nothing to be afraid because they all knew where he lived if he dared to get too close to you. After all, you were such a sweetheart, how could they let anyone harm you in any way possible?

And now they had a new task. Find a better place for you to stay at, and make Toji pay more than 70% of the rent, because how dare he ask for you to move with him and make you pay 50/50. But the dark haired man was quicker than the rest, texting you before anyone else could about this place that he found near your college, and if you wanna go and see it.

Hell yeah. You spend no time and went there as soon as you could, now being in front of a nicely looking building. Somehow, you were surprised by how good it was looking, sure, it wasn't anything fancy, it didn't look expensive and over your budget, you're just surprised to see that it's well taken care of. You're standards were already low, plus he managed to find this place in such a short time. It was normal to be surprised.

How can you forget that Toji was part of the group too. Everybody had connections, you wouldn't be surprised if they're actually in some kind of underground organization and they took you in just to look more innocent.

But man, he knew what he was doing. The whole place looked so nice.

The apartment was on the second floor, being welcomed by a small hallway with a built in closet where you could store jackets and shoes. And after opening one more door, you were now in the living room that was shared with an open kitchen, a not so big couch in the middle of the room and two doors next to each other somewhere behind it. Those must be the bedrooms. But now that you're looking around, there were actually three doors, a small bathroom in the corner that had a pretty big bathtub. You're surprised it even fits in there.

And there even was a balcony, you couldn't fit more than two chairs in total but still. You now had a balcony.

"What do you think?" he asked, looking at you as he was waiting for your answer. He had to make a few phone calls to get this place, but it was better than to wait for those fuckers to do something.

"When can we move in?" by the end of the week you were already in there.

But you couldn't just spend the first day in there all alone, after all, it was an important date. The whole group had to be there, now inspecting the place like they're about to buy it.

"I don't like it. The bathroom it's too small." Sukuna said, trying to convince you to move to the place he chose.

"It's not too late to move in the same building as me. I found a three bedroom, two bathroom apartment on the third floor. I couldn't fine anything smaller than that." Satoru too was trying to convince you.

"I talked to my old landlady and she said you can move in whenever you want." even Nanami was trying to convince you to move out.

"Is this your bedroom?" everybody's eyes were on Choso.

"Me first." the white haired man ran there, jumping in your bed and being welcomed with a loud bang.

He broke your bed, he really just broke your bed.

"I was gonna sleep there." Shoko looked at the bed that was half on the floor and half still standing.

"Damn." nobody expected this to happen. "You're paying for this." your roommate said, not wanting to pay a single buck for something he didn't do.

Well, guess that now the plan changed. Originally everybody wanted to sleep over in case you didn't adjusted to the new place, but now they went home. Leaving you alone with your new roommate.

"Where are you sleeping tonight?" you asked, looking at him getting out the kitchen with a bottle of water in his hand.

"In my room." then what about you? "Do I look like I fit on the couch?" and who's fault was it that he was so buffed?

"Good night.." you looked at him walking towards a door, opening it and leaving as wide as it could.

"This place is pretty bring even at night." you could see that.

Did he left the door open so you won't feel alone? He was surprisingly considerate. Well, you can't say that you're sacred of the dark or of the loneliness the night gives. You were surrounded by people who cared for you, it's not like you could simply just be afraid.

The next day you woke up with your back hurting, and someone at your door. Apparently, Gojo just got you a new bed so you won't be mad at him for what he did. A hard wood bed a lot bigger than the last one, taking more space of your room, but comfortable.

"At least he's good at something." your roommate said after the men that brought the furniture left.

"I'm surprised the bed broke from that much." the furniture was old and it needed to be changed at some points, but he wasn't going to tell you that. He might bring Gojo there more often, and who knows, he might as well refurnish whole house.

"Who knows." he shrugged.

"Are you free later?"

"Why?"

"I was going to buy a few things, just the essentials since we don't really have much." he shouldn't get more involved or he'll wake up with a hit man aiming for his head.

"I'm busy." he noticed the pout on your face right away. "Buy whatever you want." it's not like he haves a saying in this anyway.

"What if you won't like it?" he will like it or he won't be able to see the light of tomorrow.

"I'm fine with whatever." he said, but you still couldn't help but overthink a little.

"So he's giving you an attitude?" Shoko raised an eyebrow, walking around the store with you since you didn't wanted to go alone.

"I wouldn't call it an attitude since that's how he usually is." you said, looking at towels to buy.

"Put a hand here, behind his head, and one under his chin, move them in whatever direction you want and he'll be gone in the blink of an eye." you invited Suguru thinking that he'd be useful with caring your stuff for you. But he wasn't being useful at all.

"I'm not planning on killing anybody. Just needed your opinion on stuff. Is this bland enough or should I look for something even simpler?" you can't fill the house with everything you want, you have to think of other's opinions too.

"I like this one." Geto picked something with the brightest pink ever known to man. "Give this to Toji, I'm sure he'll like it." it hurts you own eyes, how are you supposed to give it to him.

"Go to the car. I'll call you when were done." Shoko tried to get him to leave. This was going nowhere. "If you're not sure about this then move in with me. I'm tired being around these clowns anyway."

"Clowns are the ones who aren't here with us." said Suguru.

"You still haven't left?" they're not going to fight in the middle of the store, are they?

You should have picked someone else for this task. It's impossible to get anything done with them here.

Well, maybe they're right. Think about yourself too. It's hard sharing a house, but that's how it is. You'll learn each other's tastes somewhere in the future, and then you can buy better stuff. You're not here to fill the house anyway, you're here to buy a few cups and towels, maybe get something on the side for yourself but that's pretty much it.

After a lot longer time than you expected, you finally got home.

How could you forget that you're not the only one living here, your friends also think of this place as their own. Of course they had to get a few stuff for themselves, to leave it in here so they could mark their territory.

Shoko reserved the balcony, smoking in there every time she gets the chance, and Suguru even chose his place on the couch, marking it with a heart shaped pillow just to piss the others off.

And the fridge, it wasn't just the things you like, there was all kind of alcohol and sweets bought by Satoru alongside other stuff that everybody enjoyed.

You were a bit concerned at first, but maybe this place wasn't that bad, especially since everybody seems to like it. I mean, you also liked it, but your friends opinions were also important. And your roommate it's somehow so considerate that you feel like you need to be doing more.

He looks and acts like a brute, but he's actually walking on thin ice. All the things he's doing at home are because your friends are making him to, and he's complying because it's not like he haves anything better to do.

Why he's acting like this is a mystery to him too. It's just.. you're you. The way everyone is all over you overwhelm him. He'd be lying if he says he's not curious, but again, he doesn't dare to do anything that out his power.

You do talk, I mean, it would be weird not to, since you live together. But it's always just the usual small talk. A hello here and there, did you eat, how was your day. And you're comfortable with your current relationship.

But soon everything was about to change.

It was a friday night, where you happened to be at home. Because why going out when you can relax in your bed for once?

You went into the kitchen, looking for some snacks, or something to drink during your movie. But while you were looking around you heard the front door, making you turn your head, waiting for who ever came.

It was your roommate, with a plastic bag in his hand, who somehow looked surprised to see you there. The others were all busy with something, so he thought you'd be out.

"Welcome back." you said, going back to your previous activity, back to your hunting.

"Yeah." he came into the kitchen, leaving the bag on the dining table along with his phone, now looking in his pockets for other stuff he's supposed to get out. "Heard Gojo is throwing another party tonight."

"He told me he's going to a party." you said, suddenly remember what the white haired man told you. "But it's always turning into his party, so I guess you're correct." every party that he attends it's suddenly his party, like he organized it.

"Same thing." he took some car keys out his pocket, making you raise an eyebrow. Since when does Toji haves a car?

"Ah." he looked at the metal piece with an expressionless face. "I was supposed to give this to Gojo before I left." no wander the keys looks familiar. "Whatever, he'll find someone to drive him home. No big deal." you let out a laugh, shaking your head and taking a bag of chips in your hands.

"You drink tea?" you asked, looking at the cans of ice tea he got out the bag.

"This is Suguru's." the dark haired man put them in the fridge. "I'm not dying to drink tea." you could recognize that brand anywhere, it was that bitter tea Suguru recently started drinking. Mostly to make Satoru stop drinking his stuff. "I like this instead." your roommate got a beer out. "Tea is for pussies."

"I like tea." you followed him with your eyes as he sat down at the small table that seemed like it was especially made for that kitchen. He didn't said anything for a moment, looking at you and then at the beer in his hand.

"Water, tea, the same thing." he clicked his tongue. "It's better than this." he raised his beer for a moment, shaking his head like he's disappointed with his choice of words.

"I want some too. Beer, I mean." you couldn't really pass his strange attitude as a joke.

"Do whatever you want." he sighed, taking a sip of his drink and trying to forget what he just said.

You sat down next to him, opening the bottle and taking a sip of it. "It taste as strange as I remember."

"You don't have to like it to just do it." he took another sip, turning his head towards the window and looking out of it.

"You're right." it went silent after that. Well, usually your conversations don't last this long. This was just one of those days where you're testing the boundaries, get a new record on the amount of words you said to each other. It's normal to be awkward, so it was alright. It was some improvement, so you can't say that this was a failure.

Suddenly, his phone started ringing, making both of you to turn your heads at it. He took the small metal box in his hand, looking at the screen with an annoyed face and then to respond.

"Yeah." he said nonchalantly, loud music could be heard from the other side of the phone, making your roommate move it away from his ear. "Your keys are with me." you couldn't help but laugh, suddenly remember about who's keys were on the table next to your hand. "No." he said and hanged up.

"Was it Satoru?" you asked, but you already knew the answer from the way he rolled his eyes, his shoulders dropping like some weight was lifted from them.

"Why would he leave his keys with me to begin with." your voice filled the room as you laughed. This is the first time you laughed to anything he said, and it took him by surprise because he wasn't expecting this.

"He does that." it went quiet again. But then, again, it didn't lasted for long. Because somehow, you wanted to talk more. Maybe it was the beer in your hand, or the atmosphere that gave you confidence to talk more. "Actually, I want to ask you something." his eyes was on you. "If you don't mind me asking."

"What is it?" he took a sip of his beer again, letting his back rest against the chair he's on.

"How did you ended friends with the others? I've been thinking about it for a while. It's a really strange group, so I can't help but be curious." you tried to come up with an explanation for your question, but you're not sure if you're sure of your own words.

"I was one time at this party." he said, trying to remember how it went. "Gojo was hosting it at his house, and somehow I got there. Don't really remember if I was trying to break in or was invited." he payed attention to your face, and at how you seemed so focused on him. "I stole a few stuff and I tried to sell it to this girl, at the same party. But turns out that she was doing the same thing as me, so perhaps I did, or perhaps not, threatened her, so she snitched on me."

"What happened after?" he thought you'd say that what he did was wrong, or try to lecture him about it. But no, you actually seemed invested.

"I snitched on her too, obviously." you laughed, again and again tonight. Surprisingly, he was a lot funnier than he looks like. But he too was taken by surprise at how easy going you seemed to be around him.

"I wish I had a cool story like that. I just bumped into them at school and well, I'm here now, so I guess you know what happens after."

"If I bumped into them at school they would beat my ass." you took it as a joke, even if you knew it was true.

"I wouldn't." probably. "But I'm glad nothing happened."

"Yeah, nothing happened." he looked away, avoiding your eyes as he drank more.

"No way?" you gasped. "What happened? Did you got in a fight?" believe it or not, most of the people in your group are here because of a fight, but if you don't know he won't tell you.

"It's getting late." he said, taking your beer away. "I'll take this, you go sleep."

"I want to know what happened next."

"Not now." he's really going to leave you hanging after letting such a bomb on you?

He pushed you to your room, closing the door after and leaving you all alone in there.

Guess you can say that was the start of a great friendship. Because after that night you became so much more open, perhaps a bit too open. But that's just how you guys were. At least in private, when nobody else was there.

When there were more people in there, you go back to your awkward self, keeping some distance so nobody would say a thing. It's not like you're hiding anything, so who were you like this? It was a mystery.

But then again, how you two got close was an even bigger anomaly. And it was about to become even stranger than before.

It was a beautiful morning when you woke up, the sun was up and shining like it was payed to do so. And somehow, it was annoying. The past few days have been so annoying in fact, and you can't really tell anybody about it.

But even so, you went into the living room, looking to see if anybody was there. And of course there was.

Your roommate sitting at the dining table, in the kitchen, scrolling through his phone and looking like he'd rather do something else. You get it, you would rather be productive in that moment, or do something with your life that would get your mind away from whatever you're going through at the moment.

You went into the kitchen, opening the cabinets and looking for any bottle of alcohol brought over by your friends.

"Drinking this early?" he moved his eyes awya from his phone, looking at you looking some a glass to drink from.

"I'm going through an existential crisis." your mind was all over the place, and so was your pussy, but again, you would rather not talking about it.

"It's that bad, huh?" he would make fun of you, but you were clearly having it bad. "You're sure you wanna drink?" he'd rather have you be the sweet thing that moved in with him, drinking wasn't your thing, even if you do it from time to time. "Want me to take care of it?" he thought you're having trouble with someone. I mean, why else would you be like this?

"Huh?" you placed the bottle down. "I heard it hurts? So I'm not really sure about it."

"I mean, depends? How bad is it?" he was going to beat who ever did you wrong.

You stood there for a moment, thinking about what he just said. Does he know? Is it that obviously? "It's ovulation week, you know how it is. Same old, same old." oh, well, he'll sit down on this one, you got it. "How did you know?" you two were on two different lines, completely parallel to one another.

"Ah.. that." there was something changed about you, more than just your grumpy attitude. You had a sweet smell, but he thought it was your perfume or something. "Just knew, I guess." he doesn't know what to tell you, leave it aside.

"I mean.." please brush it aside, he thought you were having problems would a dude, like a boy problem or whatever it's called. He haves no idea what is actually going on. "I never did it before so dunno what to tell you. I'm a bit scared, if I'm being honest." perhaps he needs the alcohol.

He too shouldn't had pushed it, but he's a fucker, and he loves pushing things around, poking and provoking people. And perhaps he wants a few answers out of you.

"Never?" you shook your head, blinking a few times and tilting your head to the side, waiting for what he'll say next. "Then I can't help you." he wasn't going to do that to begin with. "Gotta find someone else." it was obvious he was joking, you knew him and his shit ass humor. So why were you looking at him like that? With big eyes, curious, and a bit of mischief in them.

"I wasn't planning on doing anything to begin with." you got him sweating for a moment. He thought you'd ask him to do something. "You did it tho, didn't you?" does he looks like a virgin to you? "Can't I ask a few questions? I'm curious about it."

"Aren't you supposed to ask a girl or something?"

"I like getting informations about it from both sides." you sat down on the other side of the table, opposite of him. "How is it?"

"Same as always?" he haves no idea what to tell you. He should have let you drink some alcohol, because he haves no idea what to tell you. "How is it for you?" this haves to embarrass you, make you all shy and run away.

"Wet." he haves to admit, you keep hitting him when he's least expecting. You should stop playing with him like this. "I'm either like this all day or get triggered easily." triggered? Is that how you wanna call it? "I can't look at anything for too long without feeling a pool in my pants." you sighed.

"You can get someone to help you." you could. But then again, do you want to?

"Dick comes with problems. So I'd rather not." those were some words he never expected to hear from you. But at the same time, it responds to a lot of his questions.

You're always home, avoiding people outside your group of friends, not getting too close or friendly to people. No wander he never heard about you having any dates, like, ever.

"Get care of it yourself." what other options you have? You're giving him that look again, come on, stop playing with him and his feelings. Your eyes, sad, and a bit disappointed. Like you didn't want to hear that, especially from him. But what else do you want him to say? There's a line between joking and getting serious, and you know he'll never cross it. Unless you're clearly asking him for it, because he personally won't do shit. "Have you ever been eaten out?" he realized what he said only after he opened his mouth.

His words hit both of you, like a third person said it, not him. You both looked surprised at each other, now waiting for an explanation.

"I mean." did he really wanted to know, was he actually asking you or was this one of his other plays? In the end, you shook your head, not really knowing what to say. "Did you?" did he now?

"A few times while drunk." you were always all ears when he's telling a story, and you have no idea what it does to him. No one else reacts the way you do, and now he's always left disappointed when he's telling a story and the reactions are mediocre. "I was told I did a pretty good job." but now he's actually trying to figure out, remember, if he actually did a good job or the girls were all dumb from his dick.

"Then you must be good at it?" is that an invitation? Are you trying to provoke him? Are you telling him that you don't believe it and he should show you? Because if you feed his ego a little more he might actually show you.

"Got them screaming my name and shit." he was trying hard, like, so hard to play nonchalantly. But he's really not fine at all inside. You seem to only want answers for your dumb questions, not to actually want to know how he feels.

"I see." was that it?

"It doesn't hurt if it's not sex." now, here's where's when he's pushing the buttons. But he's trying to let you know, if you want it, it doesn't have to be his cock necessarily. It can be other stuff too, like let him have a little taste, show you that he's true to his words and his stories are no joke. He's real, the things he said are real, and he can make you feel something more real than anything you experience.

He can answer your questions, no, show you. You want to know about intimacy, right? He can make you feel it. But that all is going to cost you.

Dick comes with problems, and your not horny enough to beg for those problems yet.

"I know." you said, getting up from the table and going back to your bottle of alcohol. "Sometimes I like pain, you know? It feels good in it's own way." he needs a better answer than that. He won't take some vaguely words as a green light. "Anyway, this is mine now. Hope it will put me out to sleep." you said before going back to your room.

So this was it? You really are going to ask him all that and leave him alone? What is he supposed to do now? He made a fool of himself, you must think that he's some kind of clown. He can't believe he threw himself at what he thought was an opportunity.

But to his surprise, you really treated as a joke. Like you do this all the time, talk, provoke one another, or at least try.

No, it's alright. As long as you're not mad at him everything is fine. Or he thought.

Because the next day you came back to him, asking questions again.

"So like, oral right? How is it?" you might as well ask him to show it to you. You seemed to interested in knowing, but you don't dare to actually practice it. "Does it hurt? I mean, it might not, but still."

"It doesn't." that was reassuring, it lifted something off your chest.

"How long does it last?"

"Depends from person to person, it's like sex. It's different for everybody." for a thug like him, he was surprisingly indulging. Answering your questions, with care, and a calm voice. Like we knew one wrong move and he'll scare you away. "You're really that curious about it?" you nodded. It was normal to be curious of the unknown, no? "Why don't I should you?"

You bite your lip, looking at your hands, playing with your fingers a little and then looking back at him. "Sure."

You ended up on the couch in no time, pants on the floor, and tshirt all the way up, revealing your tiddies to the cool air. His eyes were on your panties, who had a visible wet spot on them.

It was embarrassing, the way he was eyeing you, up and down, looking at everything he wouldn't usually see.

He'll spare you this once, because it was the first time you done this. But he'll also pay extra extra attention to you, just in case if you're planning on asking for more in the future to know who to go to.

Your panties now on the floor alongside your pants, and Toji positioning better between your legs. Placing them over his shoulders so he knows he's secured there, close to your wet dripping pussy.

Call him a bit delusional, or even crazy, but he loved it there. How your juices were all over the place, waiting for him to do something, wanting him to calm the aching between your legs, calling his name. And he won't let you wait.

Dragging you closer to him, he wrapped his hands around your legs, placing soft kisses on your burning skin. And that alone was making you squirm around. But somehow this feels new to him too, because he never fucks around with people like you. So, him being in this position was as foreign as it felt for you.

He's never this attentive, careful with his touches. Caressing your thighs, and softly lapping at your sweet nectar. He's letting you breath, not just fucking your brains out. And it was weirder because this was so out of character. But it didn't matter, at the moment he couldn't care less of how he's acting.

He was circling your clit, licking it and kissing it all over. Looking up at you to see how you're doing, it only make him laugh at your reactions. If you asked him what he'll think of this situation a few weeks ago he'd say it was absurd, but noe he's loving it.

"Don't hide your voice, let me hear it." he placed a kiss on your clit before inserting one of his fingers into you with ease. It was so warm inside, and slippery, he had no other choice but add another finger. This time a little harder but it was alright, because you seem to take him so well.

You really got him overthinking this, and it was annoying because he feels like his confidence is evaporating. You got him sucking on your pearl while slowly curling his fingers inside you, way too slowly because he's afraid he might hurt you. And if he does that, he'll throw himself out the window.

He should laugh at himself, because this was stupid. He should ask you how you're feeling, but he's too prideful after all that talk earlier.

He said he's the best, he promised to give you an unforgeable experience, to make you come back to him. He can't show any signs of weakness. What if you'd think he's less of an man after that?

So, now he's stuck on sucking the life out of you, moving his fingers faster, his touch a lot rougher without even realizing. But you didn't said anything about it, only going with your hands through his hair and tugging at it lightly.

His eyes had something dark in them, like he couldn't even realize what he's doing anymore, lost in his own world as he tried to prove to you he's no pussy. He can make you cum like never before, you'll even beg him for more. So just wait a little longer, he'll show you.

He came back to his senses the moment you said his name, making him freeze for a second as he looked up at you. You're lucky he's not going all the way in today, he would have fucked you up for that look you're giving him. "Too much?" he's indulging today, he haves to remind himself that. He can't let his control slip for even a moment.

"A bit." you had a few tears in your eyes, and all he's wandering is what are you going to do if you're going to take things further? Crying from this much? You won't even be able to cockwarm him.

Believe it or not, he haves full control over himself. He's all about control, he always knows what he wants and what to do. But you, you little unpredictable thing, you make him rethink his life's decisions. Did he actually knew what he wanted? Because now his brain is upsidedown, not being able to think rationally.

Even in moments like these, jumping from bed to bed, he was always the one who decides everything. And yet, right now he's doing everything to your heart's desire.

Is he too rough? Do you want it softer? He'll do it however the fuck you want. Because who is he to begin with when it comes to you?

And instead of making fun of him, or ordering him around, you give him those puppy eyes. Careful with your touch as your hands brush against his skin, making him lean in for more, like he's some kind of pet waiting for his reward.

He's going crazy, he's absolutely going insane.

"That's.." you sighed, not even being able to finish your sentence. But he understood it perfectly. You don't have to tell him anything, he gets it. He'd be too stupid not to.

You want to come? Do it. He'll claim everything all for himself. He'll take it, and he'll even try to pull out more from you if you allow him to.

You let out some soft sounds, moans barely audible, too shy to let anything out loud. But he liked it, even if he was talking about making others scream, he didn't expected that from you. Especially when he's not even trying to.

Right now it was all about seeing how far you can take it. What you'll give him. And about making you trust him more. He won't push you, so give him everything you want.

You're so cute when you cum, and you have no idea. He might seriously be in love right now, and even he doesn't know it.

This haves to be ridiculous, like a thing you'd only see in circus, a type of charade especially made for movies for idiots. He doesn't think he can let you go just yet. He want to see something more, feel more. See something you haven't showed him yet. And the ridiculous part is that even he doesn't know why exactly he's doing this, why he feels like this.

"One more?" he asked, getting up from between your legs, and placing them on either sides of his body. He was waiting for your answer, an affirmation that gives him even more control over what he's about to do next.

"One more?" wasn't once enough? You don't think you ever managed to orgasm this hard in your life. He must be a wizard, because his hands are magical.

"You're still so wet, don't you want more?" well, you did feel like something was missing, but your body feels so heavy. And he already did so much, you feel bad to let him do everything.

"I do, but-" he didn't even let you finish.

"Then do you not trust me?"

"It's not that."

"Did it not feel good?" he leaned down, caging you between him and the couch, his face against yours as he looked down to where your private parts were.

"You did. It's just.. I want to do something for you too." you're just so cute. He was going to bite those cheeks of yours.

"And I want to do you. Let me do it and we'll figure it out after." he was going to sweet talk you until you give him a more acceptable answer.

"Alright." you give up so fast. But you did good, so he might as well give you something to think about.

One of his hands went back between your legs, slowly pushing two fingers inside your warm core, purposely positioning over you in a way that it makes you feel more of him. In a way that would play with your mind that his cock is actually going in, that's he's fucking you in that moment even if he wasn't.

He's playing with you, he's guilty of it. But he realized that if he's not giving you a little push then you'll never do anything on your own. So, he's giving you a little preview, to show you that it's not that different from what he's doing now. Even if it was, how would you know?

"How is it?" he asked, moving some of your hair away from your face.

"It feels different from before." because last time he didn't even tried going all the way in, mostly focusing on the outside, on your clit that seems desperate for his attention.

"Does it hurt?" you shook your head, leaning more into the couch, letting your body weight drop.

You were squirming around a little, feeling s bit too full of him. It was weird, the way you feel like he's deep into your guts, deeper than he actually is.

And he seems to enjoy this, seeing you struggle as you try to adjust to him. He was bigger than anything you took before, and those were only your fingers.

You shouldn't have been curious, because now look at this, you're stuck with this maniac who seems to take pleasure from seeing you struggle.

Then he started to curl his fingers, hitting a place where it got you gasping. Looking at him with a pout on your face, begging him to stop playing around.

You picked the wrong person, you definitely picked the wrong person. Because he was way too happy about this. Curling his fingers, again and again, giving you no time to think as he kept bullying your insides at a constant pace.

Your hands were tugging at his shirt, shaking when his palm started to move right into your clit. He knew what he was doing, and he didn't seemed to stop until he shows you all of his tricks.

"You're squeezing my fingers." he said, feeling the way your insides tightens around him. "You're cumming already? But it's just getting started." he was talking like he didn't enjoyed this.

"It's too much." you sobbed, making him lean more in, his hand moving at a meaner pace. He was trying to snatch that orgasm out of you, pull it like it was his life's mission.

But then again, if you can't handle this much will you ever be able to handle him? "It's alright, I'm here." not him talking like he wasn't the cause of your current state.

He can't get enough of this, he was going to go insane if you let him play with you more.

The way you're shaking, letting out broken cries as you cum around his fingers. Your hands gripping at him, dragging him closer, like you were trying to use him to shield yourself from the world.

One more, he haves to do it one more time. He doesn't know what he'll do if he doesn't do it one more time.

He was licking your tears away, making you sob as he seemed to press his body into yours. He's all yours, at least for the moment. So do whatever you want, eat him alive, rip those clothes off him and comand him as you please, because he's not going anywhere.

"No more." you shook your head, grabbing his arm in yours to stop him from doing anything more. "I can't take another more."

"Alright." he still stayed on top of you, keeping you trapped as he let some of his body weight fall into yours. Taking some time to calm himself, because he also need it.

He can't believe what he just did. If you didn't said anything he would have fucked up millions. This was the first time something like this happened to him, so he doesn't know how to react.

What even is this feeling? It was madness, it was driving him insane and he haves no idea what to do. You smell sweet, tasty, delicious even, and he only wanders how sweeter you can get.

He can't let this go any further. Picking your clothes from the floor, he dressed you up, now slowly guiding you back to your room.

He should have went out today, because he doesn't know if he can recover from this. Stupid him for being curious. And stupid you for falling right into his arms.

What is he going to tell the others? I mean, he won't say shit, but what if you do? He'll take responsibility if you want, even if he haves no actual idea how. But to his surprise, nothing changed.

You laugh at his dumb jokes, you greet him like always. You were clearly still in friendly terms, that same old distance between the two of you was still there. Everything was exactly the same of how it was before. This plus a bit more touches.

Your hands would touch, and it made both of you freeze. Sometimes you'd sit way too close next to each other and when you realize what's happening you both are staring into the void. Your eyes wanders around too, tracing along your bodies and trying to figure out if there's something new that you haven't seen yet.

You try to play it cool around other people, of course. But sometimes you can't help but wander.

To others, you're still awkward, your relationship haven't changed yet. In a matter of fact, it looked more like you're trying to talk and you don't have the courage yet. It was somehow true, but not in the way people would expect.

You both want to talk, but you don't seem to have the words yet.

That of course was until you happened to be home alone one time. Coming back earlier than usually, and having the whole house to yourself.

You never thought you'll see this place empty, without a single soul in there besides you. It was calming. Like you could finally breathe, sit on the couch and enjoy your time in peace. You even managed to take a nap, stretching your arms and legs as you tried to occupie as much space as possible. There was no one there after all, so you had the sofa all for yourself.

Soft light illuminating the room, even the sounds that are coming from outside are relaxing, like everything decided to be in harmony for you to be able to sleep.

You were tired, these days have been so tiring, it was normal to fall into a deep slumber the first chance you got. You were so gone into the dream world that you didn't even heard the front door, or the guy that got inside who was surprisingly quiet.

He didn't even knew you were home to begin with, he thought you'd probably be out, doing whatever you're usually doing. But then he saw you, laying on the couch, drooling as you didn't seemed to care even a little about anything else than to rest.

He was tired too, his body was aching, but he kept lying to himself that he's good. He kept telling himself that he doesn't need to rest, just yet. That he can go a few more days without some good sleep.

"You're back?" your words got him back to reality, he doesn't even remember since when he kept staring at you. You looked so peaceful, sleeping without a worry, and for some reasons he was jealous.

"Yeah." he took a step backwards, not daring to get any closer than that. He was still giving you so much space especially after what happened between you two.

"Are you tired?" you were still half asleep, you had no idea what you were saying. But he looked tired to you, like he needs to rest for a few minutes.

"A little." he couldn't even think of excuses in that moment, this warm atmosphere you created around you was suffocating. It was playing with his mind, making him feel relaxed.

"Why don't you take a nap?" he's a busy man, he doesn't have the time to do that. "Here." you pointed to the little space that was available on the couch. You must still be asleep because he doubts you would say that to him when you're wide awake.

"I'm good." he haves to go out again anyway, so it's not like he haves the time for that.

"Toji." you said his name softly, a hint of amusement in your voice as you looked at him with a smile on your face. Finally looking at him as you're not avoiding eye contact anymore. "Come here." you didn't sounded demanding or asking for it. And for a little he was tempted, like he was going to allow himself to let himself slide again.

"I have to go back in an hour." he actually doesn't even know what time it is. He was trying to give you an opening to back out.

"That's more than enough time." you pat the place next to you. "Come." you lay down, getting yourself comfortable as you moved to make more space for him to fit. You closed your eyes again, falling back asleep with your arms open, like you knew he'd come.

He doesn't really know what got into him for actually accepting your offer. It's just.. you as a whole. You're so welcoming, so warm, and your scent so confusing. He could practically taste you, and it made his head blurry every single time.

He wrapped his hands around you, his face buried in your neck as he fell asleep way too fast that he would like.

It was supposed to be a quick nap, but both of you woke up in the middle of the night, the sun being long gone as the whole room was filled with darkness.

No one said a thing, just staying in place and trying to remember what exactly happened to get in this situation.

Your arm was sore since his head been on it the whole time, and your body was stiff from the way you stayed in a single position, not having enough space to turn around and do something.

"You're awake?" his voice scared you for a moment, but somehow it calmed you knowing that he was the one next to you.

"Yeah." you're thankful that's it's dark at the moment, not being able to see much. "Are you going back to sleep?"

"Probably." no one moved, you were both in the same position as when you woke up.

You couldn't sleep, and neither could he. You were wide awake, your brain working way to hard on this situation and failing to process a single thought.

"You told me to come." he said. "Take a quick nap."

"I did." at least you remember that much. Don't blame him for anything he didn't do. "What time is it?" he doesn't even know at what time he came home.

"Dunno." and he doesn't want to know.

This is playing with both of your heads, all kind of thoughts filling you. Thinking of the possibilities, of what will happen if someone moves at least a little.

Your heart was beating so hard it might jump out your chest, and he seemed to be in the same situation.

"You know, what happened.." he said, clearing his throat. "Before." how could you not remember? Your pussy took you places you wouldn't go on gunpoint. Being horny wasn't for the weak. "Shit happens sometimes." you're aware of it. You know fully well it's on both of you, it's not only his fault of yours alone.

"I know." but you still can't help but feel a bit.. off. How can you put it in better terms? You're thinking about it every time before going to sleep, the feeling of another person on you, not really skin to skin but closer than you ever been to someone else.

"Don't mind it." he can't tell you not to when it can't leave your mind. Now you want more, as scary as it was, you're craving for more.

"Is it usually like this?" so you weren't going to give him a break after all? He thought he could talk you out, but you're only bringing him problems.

"Like what?" fine, he'll entertain you. He doesn't want to get up to begin with, so ge might as well answer a few more of your questions.

"Awkward? Strange? It left a bitter taste in my mouth and I don't why." he doesn't know why either.

"It's not." at least for him. "I don't feel anything afterwards." he could feel your eyes on him. "Usually." he continued, feeling like he had to explain himself.

"How do you feel now, then?" you're too curious for your own good.

"Like I left something unfinished." so he gets it then. "Empty." it was more like he overdid it, but still not quite enough. "I could have done more."

"More?" you sounded offended. "I thought I saw the light for a moment. What do you mean you could have done more? You're trying to kill me?" he laughed. It's alright if you don't understand.

"I didn't show you how I usually do it, so perhaps that's why I feel like this."

"Why don't you show me then?" you're trying to provoke him? He's trying not to fuck up again like he did last time, not do more.

"Now?" he can't never back down. And who is he to say no to begin with?

"Whenever you want."

"I got the time now." he had no idea what to do. He's usually more than just talk, but he was really not prepared for anything now.

"Now?" you weren't prepared either. "What should I do then?" but you trust him. So you'll follow his lead.

"Hop on." you got on top of him, your ass pressed against his cock who seems to get harder with each second passes. He can't do much, he can't free himself from his pants, he also can't let you bounce on it. He's not even sure if he's allowed to touch you to begin with. "What do you want to do?" he can't believe he's asking you this.

"I don't know." you're not being helpful at all.

"Move a little backwards." his hands were on yours sides, moving your hips on his hard cock. He was half hard, and yet he was so big already.

The room was bright, but not enough. The light from outside wasn't enough to see your expressions clearly. And at the moment that's all he wanted to see. What faces you're making, how did you react when you felt him? Stupid light, can't even help a man out.

"Grind on it." you figured out that much.

Placing your hands on the couch, right next to his body, you positioned better on top of him. You hoped for something more, but that's alright. You're learning something new everyday, and you're happy with it.

"Like this?" you moved your hips back and forth, your clothed pussy right onto him, feeling his cock jump around whenever you let out a whimper.

"Do it how you want it." that's not really what you wanted to hear.

You're unsure of what to do when he'll leaving everything to you. A bit of guidance would have been helpful, or some feedback. But he's not saying anything, only staring at you, like he suddenly got night vision. Or like he's trying to get one.

"How do you feel?" you asked, too lost in your thoughts to even realize how you're feeling.

"It's good, keep going." that lifted something off your chest, now focusing on how you're moving.

You never thought of how it would feel, doing this on another person. One who's surprisingly hardheaded, not saying much and making you overthinking about your actions.

Good thing your body was on autopilot, moving desperately on him and trying to cum. The darkness had it's own benefits, like the fact that he couldn't see you. So coming would be less embarrassing, especially in front of another person.

He wished he could get in your head, or at least have some kind of superpower that allows him to hear people's thoughts. Your soft sounds makes his mouth water, and yet it wasn't enough. He was a visual learner, he needed more than just your voice. And the fact that you seem to get so closer to your release didn't helped him. He needed to see it. "You're close?" he needed a confirmation. He can't make accusations based on his intuition, or better said, delusion.

"Yeah." you said out of breath. He's taking it from here.

With a quick move, now your positions changed. You were the one underneath him, and he was on top of you. Pressing his hard on you, grinding a lot faster than you did, harder. Taking you by surprise from the way everything turned around in just a moment.

You said you're close, didn't you? He's just helping you. After all, how will you come back to ask for more if he's giving you a mediocre orgasm?

His lips on yours, being way too lost in this competition only he's participating in. Kissing you like there's no tomorrow, and giving you once again the illusion of him fucking you.

See? There's nothing scary in it? It's just him and you, and your bodies. He's giving you pleasure you're asking for, the one you kept craving after. And he's going to give it to you every time you come to him.

Your mind went blank, not being able to think of anything as you're shaking in his arms.

He's not stopping moving, letting you ride your high out as he slows down. One of his hands went between your bodies, trying to tug at his pants to free his cock before freezing in place.

He's going insane, he's officially a mad man. He can't believe he really was ready to fuck you right there and then. He said this was about you and yet he couldn't even keep his dick in his pants.

Why are you giving him attention? Why did you chose to fuck around with him out of all people? Was it because he's always around? You're seeing him and something convenient to use when you're feeling horny? Then use him properly, don't talk nicely to him or he'll get the wrong idea.

"You're going to kill me sooner or later." you said, trying to catch your breath. "What about you, don't you need help?" how long until he finally snaps? Who knows.

"I'm alright." if you keep putting your hands on him he will not be able to take it lightly.

"You're sure?" seriously, let him be. He won't die from a boner.

"Yeah." he pushed his body up, giving you space so he won't do something stupid again. "I'm going to take a shower." and take care of the thing between his legs.

"Without me?" you giggled, like you were waiting to say that for a while now.

"Come and you might not be a virgin by the time we get out." oh, that made you shut up. Nope, you're not ready for it yet.

"I was joking." of course you were.

"It will take a while, don't wait for me." he said before finally getting into the bathroom.

You too need to change, your underwear might as well become part of your body from how sticky it was.

The next day? Surprisingly, you were pretty alright. You didn't seemed to walk on shells anymore. But that alone made him feel like it was alright to keep going. Because, believe it or not. Every time you touch he becomes more and more delusional. And perhaps you do so too.

It seems like your still craving for more, purposely sitting next to him, and trying to make as much body contact as possible. It was small touches, but it was still something.

He's down whenever you're down. Just say the word and he's ready to bend you over whenever.

You're shy, like you're waiting to see what he'd say. Does he wants you around, or does he not? You're trying to see what exactly he'll do.

You're giving him looks, biting your lip and fluttering those eyelashes at him like you're all innocent. When in reality you're far from that.

You told him your secrets, asked him embarrassing stuff you never dared saying before. Heck, you even let him do things you didn't even dreamed of doing. What more do you have to do to prove him that you trust him?

"You got pretty big hands." you said the thing. "Mine are so small compared to yours." if this doesn't prove that you want him, then you don't know what. "See?" it's like you're asking him to get in your bed.

But he's not satisfied with just this much. Because he knows you can say the right things when you're desperate enough. So how dare you think he'd take the bait just now?

"You'll grow." he's doing in intentionally. But now he wished he said something else. Your disappointed look got him rethinking his decision. Maybe he shouldn't make you try that hard. It was your first time doing something like this after all, so he should keep it easy.

"I won't grow more than this." well, it was true.

"You're alright the way you are." he tried to fix his mistake. "Or something." he had to play cool, so you won't think he's all soft.

You wanted to say something more until you heard the front door. You didn't expected anyone to come over today.

"Get your ass here already." Sukuna, of course. "Can't believe I came all the way here to pick your dumb face." you looked at your roommate, confused if the pink haired man was talking about you or him. "You're not ready yet?"

"Me?" you asked, not remembering having any plans for today.

"Not you. Him."

"What was today again?" the dark haired man asked, not being able to remember anything. He thought he'd be able to stay home tonight, but apparently that wasn't an option.

"Boy, get moving already."

"Bye." you waved your hand. "I'll miss you." you didn't mean to say that.

"I'll miss you too." Sukuna looked at you, not minding your strange words at all. "You though it was for you?" the tattooed man looked at your roommate, raising an eyebrow and waiting to see if he'd say something. But nothing, the dark haired man didn't said a thing, as he was getting into the entrance hallway.

Well, here you go, I guess. Now you're all alone when you thought you wouldn't.

But to your luck Shoko was calling you, checking to see how you're doing since she haven't been able to come over recently.

"Life have been boring lately." she sighed, walking towards the window and open it so she could smoke.

"That's not good." you couldn't say you relate.

"Anything good on your side." well, now that she said that, you have a few questions for her.

"Actually." should you ask her? What if she tells the others? "I need someone to talk to, like, a girl talk." you got her attention.

"Did something happen?"

"So.. I'm talking to this guy." you paused, waiting for her reaction to know if you should continue or find someone else to talk to.

"Do I know him?" that was a trick question. She knew everybody you talk to, your friends were her friends.

"Maybe. But that's not important. It's just need some advice."

"Go ahead then?" she lit a cigar.

"But like, don't tell anybody." who knows what they're going to do if they hear about you and a guy getting involved.

"I won't." she better.

So, you started telling her what happened to you recently. Letting out a lot of the things that happened, and names, and places. All she needs to know is how you want to move forward but he seems not to.

"He likes you." she said before you could even finish speaking.

"You're sure?" this happens if you let out more than you would like.

"It's either this or he wants to get in your pants." you sighed, not even wanting to this about it.

"I wish." she didn't expect you to say that.

"Oh?" now she needed the actual tea. "What happened?"

"I want to but he keeps holding back." he keeps dodging every time you try to flirt and it was annoying. Maybe he was actually doing all that because he took a pitty on you. Seeing you all sad and depressing.

"If you don't want him give him to me." you doubt she'll say this if she knows who you're actually talking about.

"Anyway, I don't know what to do."

"I still think that he likes you. Why don't you call him?" that wasn't a bad idea at all. Since he's not home you have all the time in the world to pack your stuff and leave in case things go south.

You waited, perhaps a bit too much than you would like. But you did texted him in the end. It was almost midnight when you did.

You're up? if he wasn't, that was your sign that you shouldn't try anything and sit down.

Yea. Wassup. he replied almost instantly, and for a moment Shoko's words were all over the place once again. Does he actually likes you?

Nothing, just wanna hear your voice. you became a bit too open with him than you would like. Who else would you text in the middle of the night that you're missing them if not him?

Want me to call?

Yeah. he didn't anything more than that, because in the next second he called you.

"Can't even go a day without missing me?" unfortunately.

"Wanted to see how you're doing." you don't even know what to say now that you're hearing him. "How are the others?"

"Left a while ago and they didn't even noticed." that sounds like your friends. "I could come home and they won't say shit."

"Everybody been busy lately. Why don't you go and have some fun?" you're supposed to ask him what he thinks about you, not make him hang up. Stupid you.

"Nahh. Don't want to." lucky you. "What are you doing now?"

"Talking to you." that's true. "Don't gave anything better to do."

"Missing me that much, huh?" he tried to joke around, but you weren't really in the mood for it.

"Yeah. Kinda." he get it now. This wasn't time for shits and giggles.

"Want me to do something?" what can he even do from over there? "I wanted to take a look at your pussy before I left, unfortunately didn't got the chance to." can he really say stuff like that? What if somebody hears him?

"Really? Because I remember it different." but you can't back down when he clearly started it.

"Believe it or not, I'm an idiot. I say things without a meaning all the time." he does that a lot. "Wished I could make it up for it now." you were bad at expressing your feelings, but you got more open about it when you're horny.

"I want to hear your voice more." he bet you do.

"Don't rile me up now." he let out a heavy breath. "Can't make it out past those idiots without being caught."

"Where are you now?" right, you had no idea where he even was to begin with.

"Some random room in Gojo's house. Might take home a souvenir while I'm at it." some things never change.

"Can't you come up with an excuse to come back?" you're doing that again, talking in a way that makes him say yes to whatever you're asking.

"Need me that bad?" there was a hint of amusement in his voice, but there was nothing funny the way his pants starts to feel uncomfortable.

"Maybe. Can't say for sure if you're not here." he'd jump out the window to come home right this moment if he wasn't on the eight floor. He shouldn't have left, he could have come up with something the moment those idiots texted him.

"I'll be back tomorrow, probably."

"Probably?" he loved the way you whine and the way you're so needy for him. Ugh, he's not alright at all.

"If I try to leave now they'll tie me up."

"I want to tie you up too." big words for someone who never experienced a dick before.

"Maybe not now. But we can do something different." his mind is working pretty fast.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Turn on the camera, let me see you. Bet your pussy is missing me." that's too much for a beginner like you.

"Can't we talk like this?" you were embarrassed, and man he wished he could see your face.

"Alright then." he'll be back tomorrow anyway, so it didn't matter. "Take your panties off, play with yourself for me. Let me hear it if you won't show me."

"I'm a bit embarrassed." he knows.

"I'll do it too. So you won't be alone." oh, well, that could help. But now you're more interested in hearing him than do something yourself. "Wanna see how hard my cock is? I'll send you a picture."

"I'd rather see it in real life than in a photo." the room was filled with his laugh. You were so bold out of a sudden. Wait until he gets back, you won't be that confident anymore.

"You're sure you won't cry from it? What if it's too big for that little pussy of yours?"

"If it's you, I'll handle it." you could hear him moving around, and for a moment you went quoet trying to understand what he's doing.

"Why did you stop talking? Say something, let me hear your voice." his voice was so low for some reasons, and you could only imagine why.

"What do you want me to say?"

"What are you doing now?"

"Talking to you?" you could hear him clicking his tongue.

"Not that." what else then? "Touch your clit for me, tell me how you feel." oh, he was really going to do it?

"Give me a moment." you won't say no when he also wanted it. You took your pants off with a quick move, alongside your panties, and throwing them somewhere around the room.

"You had all this time to get ready." it's like you're not even listening to him.

"I'm kinda wet." kinda? He wanted to hear about you having a pool in your pants just from thinking about him.

"Kinda isn't enough." you weren't prepared for this. You thought you'd have a little chat, not this. "Get it ready for me."

"You won't be back until tomorrow tho?"

"And? That doesn't mean that I won't be back. Get it ready so you won't say that I bullied you." did you ever said he did? Perhaps you did, but that wasn't important. "Can you push two fingers in? Doubt you can take more."

"I can."

"Yeah? I don't believe in empty words, I want proof." this fucker.

"On a second thought, two it's alright." he laughed again, running his hand down his hard cock and letting out a sigh.

"Then do it. Try to go as deep as possible." you followed his instructions, pushing two fingers inside your wet core and trying to do as he previously did.

You remember you used to do it yourself without a problem, so why were you struggling now? Are your fingers that little? You didn't feel like your even halfway through.

"How are you doing it?" you must be struggling, huh? He can't help but smile at the thought if you not being able to please yourself without his help.

"Something's wrong?" he could only guess.

"I can go all the way in." he bet you don't.

"Aww, poor baby. You must miss me even more now, huh?" he was way too happy at your misfortune.

"I can do it without your help." if he thought he was being funny, then you too can play. You started to let out any kind of sounds you made without any restrain. And all he could do is hear them through a phone.

Wasn't it funny? You're louder alone than you're with him. But don't worry, he'll take revenge on it later. At the moment he'll enjoy your voice since that's the only thing he can have.

He was paying more attention to you than him. To the way your voice would break a little when you do something your body likes it, like when you touch a place that feels too good for it's good. And how you'd move your hand away, afraid of giving into the feeling.

That's why you need him, he doesn't hold back unlike you. With him you can rest assured you'd be crying and shaking, while when you're alone you take so many breaks, not daring to push yourself at all.

He can't believe you avoid touching yourself in the places that you should. At this point this will take forever with you. No wander you're so obsessed with him. He does the things you don't dare to.

"Rub your clit faster, don't stop till I say so." now he was waiting. All ears on the wet sounds your body produce, and your voice.

You're listening to him so good, doing as he said without a single thought behind your head.

He can't get enough of you, and your dumb naive self. What will you even do without him? At this point you might need him more than he needs you, and he'd rather die than admin that.

He's practically chocking his cock as he was listening to you, his phone pressed against his ear as his head went backwards.

He wants to go home, he can't even cum knowing that you're there, in the darkness of the night, waiting for him all sad and alone.

"Just wait until I get home, alright?" that's all he said before hanging up.

You went to sleep, thinking you'd see him tomorrow morning. But he wasn't there, not a few hours later or even at noon.

Did he forgot where his house was, or did he perhaps didn't want to have anything to do with you anymore? You'd rather chose the first option than even think of him not wanting you anymore.

But he came back, late at night when you least expect.

He was breathing heavily, standing in the middle of the living room as he looked at you who was in the kitchen. "Sorry I'm late." that's all he said before getting closer, cupping your face with his hands and kissing you like it's been years since you last seen each other.

"Thought you forgot about me." you got the chance to say when he started to take off your clothes.

"Those fuckers. Had to run away or they would have dragged me to fuck knows where." his lips were back on yours, trying to lead the way to his room while kissing you.

"Your clothes." you said when you got to his bed.

"Fuck it." he took his clothes off so fast you're surprised he didn't ripped them.

He's not going out again any time soon. He's staying home, or at least he'll go wherever you're going. He's not leaving you alone ever again.

He got with his head between your legs, starting to eat you out, to ease you so it won't be hard for any of you later. Two of his fingers quickly slipped in, moving and making sure to stretch you out. But he's too impatient to do something for too long.

"Look at me." he said, getting up to be at the same eye level as you. Holding his cock with a hand and slowly pushing his head past your folds. You'd only get scared if you look down, and he'll try to distract you however he can.

He kept pushing himself in more and more, not stopping until he got all the way in. And staying there until you tell him to do something.

"Does it hurts?" he had to ask, to know if you were alright or if he went like an idiot right ahead.

"A little." you wrapped your legs around him. "But it's alright. You can move." here he was again, kissing you like he was trying to eat you while his hips were moving at a complete another pace.

He was careful, moving in and out slowly, painfully slow and letting you accommodate to him and his zise. But at the same time he tried to get your head away from him, or the fact that yes, indeed he was inside you.

You didn't complained, you seemed to be just as greedy as him, dragging him closer, wrapping your arms around him and securing him in your arms. In case he doesn't want this anymore and decides to leave.

But how can he leave? Especially when he came home all in a hurry, having to run away when no one was looking so he could be there with you. In fact, he's even more paranoid than you. What if you suddenly see him for what he is and leave? What if you don't want him anymore and go for someone else who can treat you better?

Just that thought alone was making him go crazy.

You can't leave him, not when he wasted so much time trying to get close to you. Not when you fit perfectly in his hands. Look, your body likes him, it craves for him. Your pussy is sucking him in and it doesn't seem to want to let go.

"Harder." you said, wanting to feel him even deeper. He needed to touch places no one else did before, to go as deep as he can and to practically become one with you. Because you needed him to. How else can you claim him as yours if not like this?

"No." he said, kissing the side of your face.

"Do it." and then you'll cry that he was rough. He won't give you a reason to look for somebody else. Instead, he'll fuck you nice and slow, show you that there was more to this that you think.

Sneaking a hand down your body, his thumb started circling your clit, his hips slowly hitting yours, filling the room with sounds barely audible.

This was good the way it was. Body against body, intimate touches and you craving for each other. What more do you need? Because he, personally, doesn't need anything more than this.

He wish he could keep you in this moment forever. In an empty house where only the two of you were. Where it was forever night, so no one else would disturb you.

"Stay with me. It's not done yet." his forehead pressed against yours, pushing more of him onto you so he could feel you more. He didn't want to come, and he didn't want to see you do it either. Because it means this moment had to end at some points.

"Don't leave me." silly girl. He won't leave your side even if you kill him.

"I'm here. I won't leave. I'm all yours." he better not be lying, or you won't forgive him.

[utilitycaster]

while reading sone c3 meta i realized c3 defenders are as incurious about the world as bells hells. not to say read/watch the lore but they could do some research. the biggest thing rightniw is the calamity is a family scabble on exandria but i never see them acknowledging why the gods are fighting. or that the gods always chose each other which is so wrong. calamity is because the gods dont chose each other, they chose mortals. the entire fight is to save mortals and at the end they saved 1/3 of mortals vs the total wipeout that could have happened. im reminded that in a world with living gods bells hells didnt even know their names or what they were like. i can see why this party resonates with the incurios.

So on the one hand I would say that the Prime vs. Betrayer fight is complicated, because the motivations that lead to it are them torn between what they want and their refusal leave or kill each other. The Schism happens because the Betrayers want to leave, but won't leave without the Primes, and the Primes don't want to leave and want to help mortals against the titans. The Calamity happens at least in part because the Betrayers want to kill the mortals, which in turn is at least in part motivated by the fact that they see the mortals as coming between them and the Primes. The Primes meanwhile do want to prevent the Betrayers from killing the mortals, and as we've seen, make an effort to spare noncombatant mortals (an effort which in Divergence largely succeeds, and Downfall fails), but are unwilling to kill the Betrayers and instead seal them both times.

However, the larger point, both that Bells Hells are exceptionally ignorant of religious knowledge and history in Exandria and make little effort to rectify this or even acknowledge that they don't know much, and that many of their loudest fans are incurious as well, is true. The thing that actually strikes me is that, given that of the Predathos options that did not involve either a simple defeat of those trying to unleash it or a simple unleashing and destruction of the gods, both involved the Luxon, there was a profound not just lack of curiosity, but dismissiveness of Ashton learning about the beacon earlier in the campaign by their alleged fans. Whether or not you liked it, the potion of possibility and beacon in their head, more so than the shard, was the culmination of their arc and absolutely plot crucial - and it was not uncommon earlier in the campaign for people to be like "who CARES, fuck Essek, let's go to the Hishari." When, in the end, the shard served more as an interesting mechanical bonus, an opportunity for some of the best roleplay of the game that was then mostly abandoned, and an excuse to go to the Shattered Teeth; the role of the titans was ultimately only something to bring up in fruitless arguments and justify dickish behavior. Even more so than the ignorance of Exandrian lore that I saw with some frequency, that stands out to me: even within the campaign they purported to love, they didn't care about exploring something that might gently brush up against Campaign 2. It's a real cutting off one's nose to spite one's face, and it made them look stupid, and Bells Hells felt similar: they did not want to find out information that might show them to be wrong, or show people whom they disliked to be right.

This incuriosity is still alive and well:

This is probably a vague of this post by me - but that post, I should note, came from me checking something in the transcript:

The fans of Campaign 3 don't even care enough about the campaign and party they are expending so much energy to defend, to engage with the questions the characters thereof are thinking about. They're willing to throw Dorian under the bus in a failed attempt to win an argument. Dorian cares about this, actually, is the thing, and he's mostly brushed off, and even if Bells Hells had said "oh damn you're right", my point is not "why doesn't Bells Hells care" so much as "framing this as the merciful option is again a very self-centered perspective, rather like how donating your impulse purchase fast fashion clothing still often puts it in a landfill, but there's a middleman that lets you pretend you're doing the more eco-conscious option."

And yes, it is similar to how Bells Hells, as the party of Campaign 3, didn't care enough about the people and world they claimed to speak for to learn about it. Recall how many NPCs told Ashton that the titans were dead? I think a fair interpretation is that party didn't want to talk to people because they might have told them something that challenged their limited worldview and required they change, grow, and empathize with others.

There's a line from I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings: "[My mother] said I must always be intolerant of ignorance but understanding of illiteracy," with the implication that there is a difference between a lack of knowledge that comes from lack of opportunity, vs. lack of knowledge that comes from not caring. And that's the thing. If a fan doesn't know all the lore, or even gets something wrong in good faith? That's fine! There's a lot, and if people don't know every detail of the history of the Calamity that's not a failure on their part, particularly if they acknowledge that they might be missing some information and are still learning. But if someone looks at the story, and looks at the questions within it - in some cases, questions directly stated by the characters within it - and says "who cares?" that's incuriosity. It's not a lack of knowledge; it's a disinterest in gaining it, and a lot of fans of C3 are not just incurious but openly proud of it.