#apologies if i've expressed any of this badly

[myownwholewildworld]

Love is heartbreak

↪ a the age of adaline inspired fic

pairing: marcus acacius x ageless!f!reader. summary: kissed by the goddess juno on your day of reckoning, you are brought back to life, condemned to wander the earth for a century. until you meet the other half of your soul who offers you the life you yearn for. but will you be strong enough to accept such promise? author's note: yes, i've cheated on my other wips, I'M SORRY. but when the angst and romance call, i can only answer - i am only human afterall. hope you like this little story that was supposed to be a drabble but ended up being this long, oops! comments and reblogs appreciated. enjoy! x warnings: 18+, mdni. soulmates trope. angst, romance, smut. mild breeding kink (soz). infidelity. mention of SA (not by Marcus) and death. dual pov. reader is female and a blank slate. reader is close to 150 years old (stopped ageing in her twenties) and Marcus is in his fifties. not beta'd and very lightly proofread, apologies if you spot any mistakes lol wordcount: ~8.4k. divider by @\saradika-graphics

“I’ll do anything to stay by your side, amica mea (my beloved). I don’t care about what the future holds if it’s not with you,” Marcus’ broad hands held yours, his thumb drawing invisible circles on the back of your hands.

You hated this — how your heart twisted inside you, torn apart by the choice you had to make. Was this never-ending life not enough punishment? No, you also had to go through heartbreak — your own and Marcus’. For love, you had to.

With eyes averted, you looked down at your worn sandals. Tears teetering on the edge of your waterlines as your vision became blurry with sadness, regrets and fears washed over you like the Tiber kissing the shore goodbye.

In your hundred years wandering the ground beneath your feet, you never had to go through this. Always so careful not to feel, not to grow close to anyone, not to really live the life you wanted, and now you were in a position where it almost felt too real.

Within reach — you only had to extend your hands and hug him in a tight, soothing embrace. Only needed to accept the life that Marcus was offering. Though as much as you wanted to—you wanted it, him, so badly—you could never.

And what was worst, you couldn’t explain why. First you would see the horror in his eyes, that frightened look glittering, then incomprehension, and finally disgust. Your heart couldn’t take it.

“But I do care, Marcus. Yours is bright, your military career is about to take off. I would only hinder you, your dreams. I am no one, and—” you tried to reason with him.

But love was blind. Love was deaf. Love didn’t care about impossibilities, because love was defiant.

At least his was.

“Do you think I care about being disowned? Do you truly believe that I would choose such dreadful life over you? Over a wonderful life with the person I love most?” Marcus squeezed your hands before one of his found your chin, tilting up your face to him. “Omnia vincit amor, et nos cedamus amori (love conquers all, let us too yield to love).”

You shook your head in denial, his words ringing in your ears like chants of war. Because Marcus waged war in all aspects of life, even in love — he’d conquered your heart so fully, you’d never asked him to return it. It would forever be his to cherish, to cry over, to destroy, to hate.

Because he would need to hate you to overcome the heartbreak you were about to cause.

“You don’t have a choice here. You are to marry the lady your family has arranged for; her family’s prestige will do you good. You’re just infatuated, Marcus, it isn’t true love,” you forced yourself to let a soft laugh out, wiping your tears as you took a step back. “At least, for me, it isn’t.”

Marcus’ expression folded and your heart with him. You hated yourself for saying such a vile lie, but a necessary one. The passage of time would not affect you, always stagnant in your early twenties after a fateful day when Juno decided to save your life from certain death. The Goddess of love and marriage was also one known for Her eternal youthfulness — one She would only share with those who had been wronged. And you had been so wronged in your mortal life.

And here you were, so close to committing the same mistake all over again. But you knew better this time — not because you didn’t trust Marcus, but because Fate was capricious. It didn’t matter if Juno was watching over you.

“You don’t mean that. I know you don’t. This is true love, lux mihi (my light), one that would live through eternity,” Marcus muttered breathlessly, reaching for you again, looking for that unbreakable connection you both strongly shared.

“Eternity? Don’t speak of things you don’t understand, Marcus,” you retorted, forcing your tone to sound mocking.

Another step back with an unmovable expression and you saw realisation dawning on him. Slowly like a river widening its meanders, steady like the constant flow of water. Relentless you were, steadfast in your resolution.

“Ave atque vale (hail and farewell), Acacius,” were your last words to him.

35 years later...

“Father, may I marry her?”

Marcus gazed down the dining table, eyeing his son with consideration. He knew what it felt like, how true love messed up your head to the point of madness. He had felt that way only once in his life, and it wasn’t for the woman sitting beside him.

As cruel as it sounded, Marcus never loved his wife, because his heart belonged to someone else — the now hazy memory of a woman who always lingered on the edges of his mind. A cruel reminder of how feeble and fleeting love was, how love turned into heartbreak with just a few words.

“At least, for me, it isn’t.”

That sentence alone had broken him, his ability to feel some sort of romantic connection died that very same day. At night it would haunt him, filling his dreams with nightmares. The same scene playing over and over in his mind, his heart cracking even more every time those words would hit him.

He’d waited for weeks, months. A year it took him to realise you truly were not coming back, that you meant it. He’d only been a plaything for you, a toy you discarded once things got too real. And at that point he surrendered to the pressure his family put on him. Marcus had followed through with the arranged marriage in the end, despite the agony and the empty hole in his chest.

And now his son was following in his footsteps. His heir looked so much like him, like a reflection of the past staring back at him. It pained him — he saw himself in Magnus, almost as if the roles had reversed and he was his own father thirty-five years ago. Pleading, asking to marry the love of his life even though his hand had already been promised in holy matrimony to another.

His wife, Prisca, waved one of her hands with disdain, the spoon clattering on the porcelain plate.

“Nonsense, Magnus,” she tutted at their son. “We’ve already been through this. You will marry Verina. You’d put us in a very compromised position with Gellius if you don’t.”

“But—”

“Quit your whining and man up, my son. Gellius is the Emperor’s best counsellor. It will bring our family great reputation,” Prisca reasoned, tone poisoned with greed. “And riches.”

“Father?” Magnus’ eyes shot to his, pleading him to intervene.

Marcus sensed Prisca stiffening besides him, gripping the arms of the chair like a vice. He didn’t look in her direction but knew how her orbs distilled venom. She would never understand what their son was talking about, but he did. Too damn right.

“I would like to meet her before giving you my blessing,” he spoke calmly, lacing his hands together on top of the wooden table.

Magnus’ eyes sparked up, a hopeful smile curling his mouth.

“Of course, of course! She’s waiting right outside,” and then his son hurried out of the room.

Prisca stood up, the screeching noise of the chair’s legs irritating Marcus.

“Like father, like son,” she muttered maliciously before disappearing too.

In this moment of silent respite, Marcus pinched the bridge of his hooked nose. The patience he had to muster was titanic. His life had been nothing but heartache and war, his son being the only reason he stood by his wife’s side in public. He’d tired of the pantomime, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

He would meet the woman who had stolen Magnus’ heart, just to make sure there was no deception from her part. Marcus wouldn’t wish for his son to go through the same heartbreak as him. If everything was at it should, then he wouldn’t oppose.

“Father,” Magnus called, and Marcus removed the hand from his exhausted, battle-scarred face.

His heart literally stopped.

A warm smile softened your expression when Magnus asked you to join his family in the dining hall. You had been sitting patiently in a small waiting room, wondering if this was right.

The first time you had laid eyes on Magnus a week ago, your heart jolted, and your mind went blank. He reminded you so much of your one and only true love, the one you ditched thirty-five years ago because you were too afraid to embrace the beautiful life he had offered you. The one you still felt in your heart, dormant yet very present in your everyday life.

Perhaps it was wrong of you to encourage this situation, whatever this was. When Magnus had asked you that morning to join his family for supper, he had caught you off guard, so you found yourself agreeing to it.

Deep down you knew why you hadn’t disappeared yet: you wanted to live this moment one more time. Wanted to remember how it felt to be loved so fiercely by Marcus, a yearning you’d been craving for over three decades. Only this man wasn’t Marcus, only someone who was his spitting image.

One dinner, a few hours more of playing pretend, and then you’d vanish again. Leave Rome behind after such brief visit before someone recognised you. You couldn’t afford to give any explanations, so you’d only visit this place once every decade.

You walked behind Magnus, head slightly bowed and hands laced in front of you. Magnus’ broad body blocked your vision, but soon enough he stepped aside to introduce you.

You curtsied, eyes averted, fixed on the marble slabs.

Before you straightened your back and introduced yourself, the man across the room spoke your name — your real birthname.

Inevitably, your heart sank to your belly with panic and your eyes quickly drifted up to meet the darkened ones you once had allowed yourself to swim in.

Marcus. Your Marcus.

Your heart raced in your chest and filled with pure joy. You couldn’t stop the smile that had started curling your lips nor the glassiness of your eyes.

Your one and true love was staring back at you with widened, tired eyes. He had gotten up off his chair and was striding towards you before he suddenly halted a couple of meters away from you with confusion painting his handsome features. Ones that had not remained impassible to the passage of time and war, but ones that you daydreamed about every single day without fail.

So within reach — you would only need to close the distance between you two and hug him, hug him till dawn and never let go. Oh, how much you missed him, how much you still loved him. With your whole heart, the one that ached and wept with regret in your chest right now.

Would he love you back? Did you break the love you shared past the point of mending?

“What? Her name is Aurora, father,” Magnus chuckled nervously, his eyes dancing between the two of you, puzzled. “This is the woman who has stolen my heart. I would like to marry the love of my life with your blessing.”

Your eyes flew from Marcus to Magnus at the revelation, bewildered. Marriage? Was this what it was all about, the purpose of his invitation to meet his family? Marcus’ son wanted to marry you?

You had not seen that coming, as it wasn’t your intention at all. You had only wanted to live this fleeting fantasy of yours for a few days, but there wasn’t love. Not like the one you felt for Marcus, that could never compare.

“Your name is Aurora?” Marcus’ question forced you to look in his direction, your heart twisting maddingly inside you. You nodded with hesitation, “I thought you were…” Marcus pronounced your real name again, the sinking pit of your stomach churning.

“That was my mother,” you quickly came up with a lie. You could never tell him the truth.

“Your mother,” he repeated slowly, shock and pain transforming his beautiful face. “I knew your mother.”

“What? Really?” Magnus intervened with a laugh, palming his father’s shoulder. “That’s such a coincidence!”

You looked at both of them, but your eyes inevitably lingered on Marcus’ darkened ones. Would he believe your lie? Again?

“The resemblance with her is… uncanny. You look so much like her, Aurora,” Marcus rasped, taking a step back and steeling his posture with determination.

He didn’t need to speak for you knew his hurt. Because the same memories that were flooding his mind, had been drowning you for decades.

The atmosphere felt heavy with unspoken truths, your face burning — you loathed yourself for the pain you had caused him. Pain that still contorted his expression every time his eyes flicked to yours.

Would he ever forgive you? Would he know that you lied so many years ago? That you truly and irremediably loved him? That you would always do?

You bowed down your head, mainly to conceal the unspent tears brimming on your waterlines.

“So I have been told, General,” you muttered softly as Magnus’ hand rested easily on the small of your back, his lips brushing your temple gently.

“I know this may seem sudden, father, but I know that Aurora is the one,” Magnus confessed shyly, pulling your body towards him in a warm half-embrace.

Never in your life had you wished yourself to disappear so badly. Marcus’ sight burnt through you and you couldn’t help but reciprocate him. The sadness—no, the heartbreak—in them was like a dagger through your heart, and you wondered if the decision you made so many years ago had been the right one.

By the looks of it, he had done well for himself, just as you had imagined he would. The villa was beautiful, sumptuous even. It spoke of his status in the Empire, how highly rewarded he had been for his enterprise. You assumed that Marcus had married eventually after you left, and you only hoped he’d married for love.

“I see,” Marcus murmured in reply to his son, walking back to his chair. “Let’s eat first. Prisca, my wife, won’t be joining us. She had to excuse herself because she wasn’t feeling well. Please forgive her absence.”

Prisca. So he hadn’t married for love, his family had won and forced him into an arranged marriage after all. Your heart cried for him, for the injustice you had showered upon him with your departure. Perhaps he ended up loving her so his life wouldn’t be as miserable.

That last thought stung, the dagger further twisting in your heart. You wanted his happiness, but selfishly you hoped Marcus still loved you. Undeserving of such love you were, that was clear to you, but you still hoped anyway.

“Of course, Dominus,” you hushed as Magnus guided you to an empty chair.

The food served was delicious, but the silence looming over the table tinged the atmosphere uncomfortable. Magnus did a remarkable effort to keep the conversation going, but Marcus’ succinct replies didn’t leave much room for chatter. And when Magnus pushed again about the marriage proposal—to you dismay—Marcus said that it could discussed tomorrow over breakfast.

Even though the man in front of you had aged, you still saw him as he was thirty-five years ago. He had a scar on his upper cheek and across the bridge of his aquiline nose, crows feet kissing the corners of his brown eyes, his thick curls were greying, and his demeanour was more stoic, but he was still your Marcus.

The only difference though was his lack of… life. His eyes didn’t sparkle anymore, they were tinted with darkness and sorrow. Had war changed him? Had you changed him?

Your throat collapsed on itself, tightening to the point of suffocation. Just in time, you reined in the tears as the last maid removed the plate in front of you.

“I should be going,” you announced, pushing back the chair to stand up.

Marcus sprung to his feet before his son did. And when he realised his promptness, he cleared his throat but didn’t speak.

“It’s late,” Magnus said, standing up to be by your side, throwing a confused glance to his father. “Could she stay the night, father, please?”

Marcus nodded.

“I will ask one of the servants to prepare one of the empty chambers,” Marcus conceded, walking around the table to meet his son.

“Oh,” Magnus sighed, and you knew he’d hoped to share a bed with you tonight.

Your face burnt once more with shame when Marcus’ eyes looked for yours. However, you didn’t meet his gaze, scared of what you would find in it.

“Thank you, General, you are most generous,” you husked in a low voice.

“I will show you around the villa in the meantime, amica mea,” Magnus said, his hand quick to rest on the back of your waist.

You subtly flinched at his endearment. That was what his father always called you. It felt wrong when he said it now, completely out of place — it didn’t at first, when you looked at him and imagined he was Marcus instead. But with the love of your life standing firm in front of you, it sounded so vile.

This fantasy of yours was a dangerous game, one you didn’t want to play. Not if it meant hurting Marcus again, because you could see the way he studied you. How his pupils dilated with anger every time his son would seek your touch. It was killing him, and you in the process. When everyone went to sleep, you would leave in the middle of the night, as the shadow you were condemned to be.

Magnus urged you to turn around and walk beside him, when you heard Marcus gasp.

“Your birthmark,” his words stopped you right in your tracks.

When Juno touched you to bring you back to life over a century ago, Her caress left a mark on the back of your left shoulder. The shape resembled that of a peacock, the loyal animal known to accompany the Goddess.

“What about it?” Magnus intervened, confused by the interruption.

Slowly you looked over your shoulder to glance at Marcus. His eyes were a window to his restless, half soul, desperate and blown — he knew. He searched your face for a crack, a way in, but your expression didn’t tumble.

You wished you could veer around and throw yourself in his arms, kiss him and apologise, ask him to take you back. But you just couldn’t. Love was heartbreak, and it would have to remain that way if you didn’t want to hurt Marcus even more than what you already had.

“Nothing,” he grumbled, jaw tight with a tic on the muscle.

Marcus stirred in bed, unable to get any sleep.

Your face haunted him brighter than ever — every time his eyes shut, your sorry expression would gnaw at the confines of his mind. Seeing you right in front of him after so many years, all curled up to his son’s side, drove him mad.

At first, he thought himself crazy. You looked exactly as you did thirty-five years ago — not even a wrinkle kissed your skin, not a greying hair anywhere to be seen in your plaited hair. So when you explained you were the daughter of the woman who broke his heart, he had believed you.

That was until he saw the birthmark on your shoulder. The unmistakable shape he had joked about in the past, telling you that you had been kissed by Juno Herself at birth. It was impossible that you had inherited such a peculiar mark.

But it was even more impossible that you had remained as youthful as you were, as if not a single day had passed. How was that even possible? Some people were gifted with slow ageing, he had seen some, but to remain exactly the same? No, there was something else lurking, an explanation he could not grasp because it was too surreal, too unfathomable for a mortal.

Marcus needed answers. His mind was a tangled mess, this new discovery shining a different light on the conversation that destroyed him over three decades ago. Did your words have a meaning he had not been able to see before?

“Eternity? Don’t speak of things you don’t understand, Marcus.”

What had you truly meant by that? Did you understand what eternity really was in a level he couldn’t even start to comprehend?

Heart pounding, he quietly removed the covers and sat on the bed. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that Prisca was sound asleep. Not that she would miss him anyway.

In darkness, Marcus palmed around until he found his toga and quickly changed to then walk out of his bedchamber with a clear destination in mind.

He trudged along the cold corridors of his villa until he found the door to the room you were sleeping in. For a second, he doubted, thinking he was crazy for the implausible reason taking form in his mind. But if it wasn’t that—that you were, somehow, ageless—he still needed to know why. Why hadn’t you aged? Why leave him? Why not tell him the truth?

As his shaky hand lifted and curled to knock on the wooden plank, the door swung open.

You appeared under the doorframe with a wild expression and widened eyes, obviously in a hurry to leave. Again.

“Marcus,” you gasped, one hand flying to your chest in surprise as your beautiful eyes met his.

He froze in place, all the words he had planned to say stuck to the back of his throat, forming a lump that would not let him speak. Your beauty was dazzling, but it was the buried love he harboured for you what stopped him from talking as it resurfaced.

His memory of you had not faded, able to remember every single feature of your face regardless the passage of time. Everything about you was engraved in his mind, but he had almost forgotten how sweet you smelt. Roses, with an earthy hint of grass.

As your scent numbed his mind, Marcus finally found his dry tongue.

“Don’t leave, please. Don’t leave again,” he begged in a hoarse whisper, his eyes diving in yours.

You looked up at him and he felt himself under a spell. The same one you had him under years ago, when the heart was shattered and the mind bleak. Because even when you waved him goodbye, he still loved you. Never stopped, was never able to hate you for what you did, what you said.

“Can we talk?” he pushed before realising your eyes were glassy with sadness. “I know your name is not Aurora. I know it’s you.”

Your bottom lip trembled as a single tear fell from the cliff of your lashes. Moved by his own ghost of the past, Marcus reached for your cheek with his palm, the thumb brushing away the tears that followed the first one.

You let go of a deep sigh, kissed the palm of his hand and nodded. His heart was beating so loud, so fast, he almost missed your words.

“I owe you an explanation, Marcus,” you finally spoke, a broken sob almost tearing his resolution.

As you stepped aside, Marcus came into the room you were so eager to leave behind. Your heartbeat had spiked the moment you saw him and hadn’t slowed down since then. Perhaps you didn’t die of heartbreak but could die of a heart attack.

For decades you had been running until you found him. Until Marcus made you believe you could have everything he promised. It had been the first time you had actually considered growing roots. But the thought of not being able to grow old, to see the love of your life wither away while you remained sane, was paralysing. You had panicked — too scared to accept the love of a man who would give up everything for you, too frightened to trust someone again.

But was Marcus not worthy of your trust? He demonstrated repeatedly how he would always protect you, always cherish you. Not only with words, but with actions too. He had been so considerate, so loving, for a moment in the past you thought it a ruse. How could someone be so damn perfect and still be real?

Your heart clenched in pain, seeing him latch the door behind him and turn around to face you. The look of confusion, of sorrow, ate at your conscience. Under the candlelight, his torn features stuck out, time unforgiving. He was still gorgeous, would always be in your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing that slipped out before the quivering of your bottom lip let out a sob. “I’m so sorry, Marcus. I didn’t know Magnus was your son, otherwise I would have never—” you shook your head, taming your cries. “I should have known. He looks so much like you. When I first saw him, I thought it was you. That somehow you had been able to still time and be with me.”

You sobbed a pitiful laugh, unable to look him in the eye. It was shameful having to admit something like this — that you had chased after a boy because he reminded you of someone you loved. But despite your immortality, you were still capable of human mistakes.

“So you didn’t know he was my son?” Marcus asked quietly. You could see the inner workings of his mind ruminating as you shook your head no. “Do you love him? Were you really going to marry him?”

The questions caught you off guard. Although at some point you were expecting them, you didn’t think it would be this early in conversation. It might be for the better if it got out of the way as soon as possible, so you could explain yourself.

The first cut would be the deepest, although the rest would still hurt.

“I love the idea of him,” you emphasized, ashamed of yourself for giving in to such fantasy. “I thought I could love him the way I did you, that he could be a vessel of my love for you. That I could, for a few days, remember how it felt— how you felt. That I could have you one more time,” you paused and sighed, intertwining your hands together to twist them nervously. “I only met him a week ago, marriage did not cross my mind at all. I was going to leave once—”

“Once it got too serious,” he finished for you.

Marcus went quiet again, his eyes transfixed on you. You wished Juno blessed you with the ability to read minds, to know what he was thinking right this moment. Did he hate you for what you just revealed? Did he think you were sick for trying to live out a fleeting dream? Would he forgive you for such despicable behaviour?

“Do you still love me?” his gravelly voice was so low, for a moment you thought you had imagined it.

But the doubt, the fresh hurt in his wounded gaze, told you otherwise.

You gaped for air, your lungs strained with sorrow. You should fib, stand by your initial lie, tell him you didn’t. But what had that gotten you the first time around except for a life of misery and loneliness? What had that gotten him?

“I do. I do love you, Marcus,” you whispered, out of breath due to the pounding of your heart. “Couldn’t be any other way. You’re the other half of my soul that I’ve been missing for so long.”

Time stilled as you looked Marcus dead in the eyes. You were not expecting anything out of your raw confession, because the time for those had passed. It was what you should have said thirty-five years ago, not now. You were too late to mend the love that had slipped through the cracks of time.

“Then that’s all that matters,” he finally broke the silence, his voice laced with emotion.

The admission shook you. Could this be true, really happening? Did he still love you after all this time?

In a couple of strides, you found yourself in his arms, the way it should have been ages ago. His forearms wrapped around you like a warm blanket as his head bowed down to taste your lips.

You kissed him back, first sweetly, then fiercely. You kissed him with all the unexpressed love you held in your heart, with the passion your true love deserved. His tongue was as sweet as you remembered, as soothing as your memory recalled. A dance ensued, his tongue reading a love letter to yours.

Your hands, which had been resting on his chest, drifted up to cradle his face — his moustache and stubble pickling the skin of your palms. Marcus untied his mouth from yours to kiss your tears goodbye, then pressed a peck on your forehead. His heart was beating as loud as yours, in unison like true soulmates.

“I’ve missed you. I never stopped thinking about you, lux mihi,” he confessed under his breath. “Life was never the same after you left.”

His admission made your heart flutter even further, and you couldn’t help but let your hands roam his back. Your fingers played with the knot holding the toga in place, his seeping warmth beckoning.

“I need you, Marcus. Make love to me,” you pleaded, leaving a love trail of kisses on his neck.

Marcus’ chest rumbled at your plea, his lips hunting down yours in a heartbeat. His hands were quick with your clothing, worshipping the curves of your body as it was revealed to him. You did the same with his toga, until you were both bare, standing in front of each other.

You saw his eyes lingering on every nook and cranny of your skin before they found yours. A thunder of connection ran through you, of yearning. On your tiptoes, you kissed him again, pressing your breasts onto his chest while your fingertips traced the map of his back.

You didn’t expect all the bumps and grooves you found on his skin; battle scars dotted around everywhere. Some thick and protuberant, some thin and soft. Marcus keened at your touch, silently letting you know that some of them were too sensitive to be caressed.

How much hurt his body and heart had endured, a life dedicated to war and duty. Your heart cried for him, for not being able to be by his side when he needed you most. Had you taken up his offer, had he run away from responsibility with you, his skin would tell a different story.

But the past couldn’t be changed, only the present was malleable enough to shape a new future.

Slowly he pushed you towards the bed, his hands resting on either side of your waist while his thumb drew lazy circles on your bristled skin. Raking your fingers through his silver curls, you leaned back on the mattress, his warm body blanketing yours.

His hands found the apex of your breasts, soft fingers rubbing your taut nipples as your head tilted back. Marcus licked the salt of your exposed neck, finding your pulse point. He kissed the spot and lingered, your vein pulsing against his lips as one of his hands discovered the slick your thighs harboured for him.

The feathery caress of his ring finger outlining your seam turned you into a whimpering mess. His pad stroked your nub, a slight flick followed before it slid down your slit and found your weeping hole. He circled it a few times, taunting you effortlessly, before returning to your clit.

You heaved, lips pursed so your moans would stay contained. In the dead of the night, you worried this show of love would seep through the walls. But not even the thought of his marriage, the thought of Magnus lying in bed a few rooms over, could stop you from joining your bodies together the way the Gods intended.

Marcus’ mouth travelled down the column of your neck, kissing the center of your clavicle before he went further down. Your unattended nipple was soon enough smothered by the wetness between his lips, and you fisted his hair in response, gently tugging at it.

“Marcus,” you moaned, eyes shut. Rejoiced.

One nipple drowned in his spit, the other pinched between his fingers, and his ring finger pressing tight circles on your thudding clit had you fighting to remain silent. But the moment the hand between your hands moved down and his digit teased your walls apart as it sank in your slick warmth, you couldn’t stop the muffled yet loud moan.

“Sing for me, meum corculum (my little heart),” Marcus husked. The gentle pumping of his finger in your wet heat had you quietly howling a few seconds later. “That’s it.”

Your felt your walls contract, pulse around his finger, holding onto him for dear life. Feeling your need as his own, Marcus dunked his middle finger in your pussy too, stretching you while his thumb stroked your clit. The combination of it all made you clench around him, almost begging for release.

“Let go for me,” Marcus asked between licks, and you couldn’t resist his prayer.

The coil that had been tightening inside you finally snapped, releasing a wave that coursed through your quaking body like a tumultuous sea. Your back slightly arched as your thighs trembled around his forearm, chest rising with a dire need for oxygen.

Marcus chuckled softly, setting your nipple free as he searched for your mouth again. He devoured you as you came down from your high, his erect cock gently resting on your mound. The weight of it on your sensitive skin felt like it belonged. The anticipation of welcoming him inside you made you gush.

“Let me drink you, kiss you, savour you,” he pressed a kiss on your mouth after each pause.

Your skin flushed; the proposition was somewhat indecent. It was lewd, frowned upon, and you were tethered to the chains of social decency. But there was nothing decent about infidelity, after all.

“Please, mea vita (my life). I can make you reach for the moon and the stars in the ceiling above if you let me, make you touch them,” he promised.

You shyly nodded, and his boyish grin grew wider, his lips tensing. So contagious, you smiled back as he came off you and moved your body until your butt was on the edge of the mattress.

He scooted you over towards him until the back of your knees were resting on his shoulders — leaving you completely exposed to his hungry gaze. His eyes lingered on your leaking dampness, his dilated pupils tracing the outline of your seam. The intensity of it all, the deep connection, made your thighs press together against his neck, wanting to hide your core from him.

You had nothing to be shy of, as Marcus had already seen you bare before. Sex with him had always been ardent, fervent — the heat of passion always got the best of you both, a certain urgency to consummate your love. But now? Now was different. There was no rush in his movements, in how his thumbs pried your pussy lips open, in how his warm lips brushed the sensitive skin on your inner thigh. His calm confidence in taking you as he had promised was new to you, who never had all the time in the world. But right now, you did. For Marcus, you did. Always would.

Your lashes fluttered, kissing the apples of your cheeks the moment the languid strokes of his tongue met your swollen flaps. He kissed one gently, then the other, before the wet muscle lapped from your gushing hole up to your clit. So venerating were his licks, your limbs relaxed at the intimate kiss.

“You taste like ambrosia, lux mihi. The best relish I have ever been graced with,” his hot breath collided with the cold skin on your slit, your body trembling in response.

“Marcus, please,” you begged, although you were not sure why, or what you were asking of him.

He didn’t leave you waiting again. His fingers sank in the flesh of your thighs while his tongue dived inside your slick furrow. So dextrous were his charges, you couldn’t help but mewl like a starved kitten in a back alley asking for leftovers. First, he flicked your excited bundle of nerves, and then he suckled on it, his jaw working you through the climb to another orgasm. The buildup was intense, but it became feverish the moment his finger joined the action — it slid easily inside, curled to caress the precise spongy spot of your arousal.

Unaware of your own actions, one of your hands slithered down your belly until you fisted his curls — pushing him towards the centre of your heat, not away from it. He hadn’t lied — the stars appeared behind your eyes, bright like the future you wished you had with him. A sea of constellations, all imploding at once in an amazing rain of stars that blinded you as you came crashing down from the skies.

You heaved and wailed his name in ecstasy, your entire body quivering with the strength of a thousand suns. Your entrance clenched around his finger as you held your breasts, your thumbs ghosting the taut buttons. You leaked your pleasure on his mouth, and he drank unashamedly, grateful of your offering.

A sweet kiss on your mound before he towered over you, and you could only look at him in awe with raw, true love. When his battered body blanketed yours, you draped your arms around his waist, hands lightly resting on his lower back. The knowing smirk on his lips spoke of a muted “I told you so.”

“I love you,” he whispered instead.

Your heart swooned and healed and cried and exploded. All at once. He hadn’t said those exact words yet, but they were veiled in every sentence, every action he had said or done tonight. Deep inside you were eternally grateful that he hadn’t grown to hate you, that his love for you remained intact despite heartache, circumstances and time.

Unbeknownst to you, tears welled up, ones that Marcus drank too. As he did, your palms stroked his ribs, careful to avoid the scars you had come to learn were too delicate. Eager, one slid off his skin until your fingers wrapped around his throbbing manhood. Eyes down, you saw the pearly bead of pre-cum commending you to butter it on his flushed head. With your thumb you caressed the tip, and Marcus’ lips parted in need — an invitation you quickly accepted, dunking your tongue in his mouth.

A few pumps had him groaning and soon enough you were guiding him to the pocket of heat between your thighs. His cockhead kissed your gushing entrance the same way his lips did — knowing, denuded, possessing. And slowly he made his way in, parting your flesh like a new stream disturbing the earth beneath. The burning sting was most welcomed, blossoming into a fullness you had craved for decades.

“I’m home,” Marcus rasped when he was fully seated in your cunt.

Your throat clamped a little, emotion overtaking your senses the same way his erection did.

“Welcome home, dilectus (beloved),” you muttered with a loving smile and teary eyes.

You melted into a slow kiss as Marcus rocked his hips, rutting into you almost lethargically, wanting the moment to last. You let him set the pace, the drag of his cock in your pussy a delight that had you reaching for the stars again and your inner walls squeezing him tight. The sweet rhythm of his swaying tightened the slick, hot coil that pooled low in your belly, and the moment Marcus gained momentum, you followed.

Needily he started fucking into you with precision, chasing both of your highs. His dick pulsed inside you, your heartbeat instinctually adapting to his in a second. Both so close to the sky above, gasping for air now, you rocked underneath him to amplify such pleasure.

“Marcus,” you whimpered, your hands now cradling his face. You lost yourself in his eyes, blown and loving. “Please, inside,” was everything you murmured.

Even after your petition, the snap of his hips against yours didn’t falter. Instead, the pace increased as his wild orbs studied your blissed out expression.

“Do you mean it?” You nodded effusively. “Do you want your belly round with my child?”

You didn’t even know if it was possible — yes, you looked young but were closer to a hundred and fifty years on this earth than to the day you were born. The fertility of your womb was one you never dared to test in your immortal life, but the thought of having such a memory—someone—to remember him by when the days grew cold and the nights dark was overpowering reality.

“Yes, I do,” you reassured him, pecking his lips softly.

His head fell, his face resting on the crook of your neck, while he made love to you. His moves stuttered, announcing his climax, and your pussy hugged him tight in a natural response. The moment the first ropes hit your cervix, you came undone too. As Marcus filled you with his warm spent, you creamed around his beating girth, your hands holding onto his shoulders as your back arched and your nipples kissed his chest.

It took both of you a few minutes to come down, for the haze of lovemaking to slowly dissolve in the musky air. Marcus hungered for your lips and he hunted them down with eagerness. Your bodies finally untied, his cock leaving you empty yet satisfied.

You hoped—prayed—his seed would take root in your womb. Even if it was impossible, the sliver of a miraculous possibility gave you a resemblance of hope. So you pressed your thighs together, greedy of his gift.

Marcus rolled off you, falling onto his tummy besides you. Quickly you laid on your side, your fingertips tracing the lines of his skin again. A feathery touch to alleviate the harshness of life. He unburied his face from the pillow and turned to look at you.

His smile was instant, and so was yours.

For an hour no words were spoken at all, no sleep was achieved either. You both remained silent, staring at each other, soaking up the love that flooded the chamber.

Replacing your fingers with your lips, you kissed the scars on his back, his shoulders, his arms. And finally his nose and cheek, where you dawdled as if your caress could erase the pain they inflicted.

“What are we going to do, amica mea?” Marcus husked after what felt like an eternity.

Reality set in, leaving a gaping hole in your belly. What could you do? Would you be strong enough to stay by his side for however long the goddess Mors took to claim him? Strong enough to build a life you knew was ephemeral? And once he was gone from this mortal plane, what would be left of you?

The choice was an impossible one. One that you should have made decades ago, when the heart was whole and the mind still strong. Now you knew how arduous life was without him, how—for years—you had looked for him in the small details and every single man who resembled him, how the regret and the grief haunted you at every turn of a decade. Now you knew that life wasn’t worth living if you didn’t have Marcus to share it with.

You traced the profile of his nose with your lips before pressing a soft kiss on his.

“I am not sure, but I am willing to try… if you are,” you whispered, leaning back.

The implications of such life were huge for him. Married, with a son who though himself in love with you, an acclaimed General who served Rome even when Rome didn’t serve him. His responsibilities were greater than yours, Marcus had so much to lose. Had you accepted his proposal when you should have, neither of you would be in such dire situation.

Marcus sighed heavily, rolling onto his side to face you. His calloused hand cradled your cheek, his eyes filled with a determination you wished you had back then, when life was easier.

“There is nothing nor no one that could stop me from spending the rest of my life with you, lux mihi,” he mumbled, hand dropping to your hip. “I said it then, and I will say it again: I do not care for this life if you are not with me. I don’t care about reputation nor retaliation. For over fifty years I have done what was expected of me, and I am done living my life for Rome and her vice. You’re the stars that light up my path in the darkest of nights, the warm sun that guides me home. For however long you’ll have me, I’ll be with you. My heart was always yours, mea vita, since the moment I landed eyes on you. And I don’t want it back, ever, even if you have to leave again.”

The softness of his delivery, the truth his words emanated, brought tears to your eyes. You thought yourself unworthy of his love, his devotion, when you had only caused heartbreak. But this was your second chance, one you were not going to let go.

You moved closer to him as his arm wrapped around you. With your forehead resting on his naked chest, you traced invisible lines on his ribs.

“I won’t leave. That broke me once, can’t handle it a second time. I love you and want to spend the rest of our time together showing you how much I do, making up for lost time. For however long,” you repeated, kissing his chin.

There was a brief pause, and you knew what his next words would be.

“How old are you?” the question you had always avoided, dreaded.

“Close to three times your age,” you confessed, looking up at him through your lashes.

The answer slowly sank in, but instead of horror, incomprehension and disgust, you only found acceptance. As if it was just another fact about you, nothing of major importance.

“You look amazing for being close to one hundred and fifty years of age,” he joked with a grin to lighten the mood. You let out a soft laugh in response. “How? If you want to share.”

The story of how you came to be ageless wasn’t a pleasant one. But your life was full of secrets that had ruined every human link you had to this earth, and you wouldn’t let them spoil the only real connection you had left.

“I… I was promised to a man, one who I thought was worthy of my love. There were things I was blind to at that time, and only time showed them to me. I thought everything was going as expected, he was always so courteous and respectful in public. Until our wedding night, when he…” you paused, the memories too painful even after all this time, “he abused me, and let his friends use me. When they were done, they left me for dead in a ditch.”

Marcus’ arm draped around you tighter, his heart beating so loud you could hear it thumping against his chest. He hugged you close, his warmth calming and reassuring. Marcus was nothing like that man, if your abuser could even be considered a person. You knew he never would be so despicable — you were as sure as the first lights of the sun would wake you up tomorrow.

“It took me hours to finally drift away. And when I did, Juno greeted me. Said the man had wronged me, and that I should have a second chance to understand what marriage and true love actually were about. Then she touched me right here,” you caressed the peacock-shaped birthmark, “and breathed life into me.”

Marcus leaned back a little to inspect your torn features. The heartache he had to endure paled in comparison to yours. How could someone inflict such hurt on another? He couldn’t even fathom such disgusting scenario. That man was the reincarnation of evil, and he wished he suffered the most agonising death.

He had only seen your soul’s purity, your kindness, your benevolence. Anyone who didn’t was blind.

“You did not deserve that ending, amica mea — no one does. He didn’t deserve you,” his heart cried for you, for the weight you had carried for over a century. “You’ve got the purest heart I have ever known. A soul that I will protect until my dying breath.”

“A half soul,” you interrupted him, and Marcus looked at you confused. “Because your other half completes mine.”

His heart jolted, this time because of the sweetness of your confession. That muscle had grown bigger in the last two hours than in his entire lifetime. He sworn himself to stand by your side, come what may. You would never be wronged again, not if he could avoid it.

“We’re leaving tonight,” Marcus declared without skipping a beat.

“What? What about your wife, your son?” your eyes had widened, but his resolution was firm.

“My wife… she’s not been my wife for years. She’s poison. And my son…” he shrugged, conflicted. “He’ll eventually understand, or so I hope. I believe he might already have an inkling that something weird was at play from the moment I said your real name.”

“Marcus, are you sure? You’d be sacrificing so much for me, I wouldn’t want to—”

He didn’t let you finish, his mouth covering yours in a passionate kiss that slowly turned gentle and soothing. Your hands caressing his battle-scarred skin was like a balm; your touch the first and only one to cure all his ailments. Unhurriedly, he sat back up on the bed, dragging you with him.

“Let’s leave now. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, lux mihi,” Marcus purred against your lips.

Fifteen minutes later, you were both clothed and atop of two horses, blending in with the shadows of the night that concealed your departures, in search of a new life. Together.

taglist: @orcasoul @lilac-boo @picketniffler @almostfoxglove @gothcsz @liciafonseca @namenotimportant1373

[thethirdromana]

So does Trilby have a Supernaturally Menace in it or just... jews

I gave up at 100 pages in and then read the plot summary on Wikipedia, so I can't be completely sure, but there's no sign of a supernatural menace that I came across. The antagonist, Svengali, has hypnotic powers, but there's not much suggestion that he's anything other than a normal man who happens to be very good at hypnosis.

Yes, this is where we get the term "Svengali" from. And "in the altogether". And the reason we call a trilby a trilby is because Trilby wore one in the stage adaptation. This awful book was distressingly influential.

Going to drop the rest of this under a cut for discussion of anti-Semitism and other racism.

I've been trying to figure out why Trilby bothered me so much more than... well, more than pretty much every other Victorian novel stuffed with Victorian prejudices that I've ever read. I don't often give up on books.

I think the absence of the supernatural is part of it. In Dracula and the Beetle, you have an evil foreign menace who's out to do unspeakable things to our good British women, and I'm in no way defending that storyline, but in both cases the monster is legitimately monstrous. Vampires that eat people and giant beetles with mind control powers are genuinely scary. It would be possible to tell these stories without the racism and xenophobia; though the roots go deep, racism isn't inherent to what makes the story function.

Whereas in Trilby, the entire story is that Svengali is evil and does evil things because he is Jewish. There is no version of Svengali where you can subtract his Jewishness and still end up with a coherent character - or not one who would then play the role that Svengali plays in Trilby. As you put it, anon, the menace is Jews. And that's profoundly unpleasant to read in a way that's different from the monsters in Dracula and the Beetle, at least as I experience it.

There is another aspect of the novel that I find repugnant, and have been struggling to figure out how to put into words, so please forgive me if I mess it up.

So, we have a cultural idea that hatred and prejudice come from dehumanisation. It's the Terry Pratchett quote: "sin... is when you treat people like things." And the antidote is generally held to be humanising people. When Shylock asks "If you prick us, do we not bleed?" it's generally understood to be an appeal to a common humanity: if you realise that I'm a human being like you, you will put aside your prejudice.

What I find particularly disturbing about Trilby is how much it humanises Svengali. I know this doesn't seem like it should be a bad thing, which is why I've been struggling to figure out how to put this. I've drafted and deleted two or three posts about it.

He is humanised in such a way that when I read how Svengali is first introduced in the novel, I thought perhaps the criticisms that it's anti-Semitic might be overblown. Which is why I was relatively lighthearted in my first few posts about it.

Yes, Svengali is described as having stereotypically Jewish looks, but he's also an exceptionally talented musician, and in the opening scene, he and the protagonists have a lively party together. They share drinks, they share stories. He's not a Fagin-esque character, who is a cardboard cut-out labelled "evil Jew". Du Maurier fills in Svengali's character more than just about anyone else's; certainly more than the bland group of artists mooning over Trilby. He has depth, he has passions, he has humanity. He is a rounded and plausible person. He has, if you want, a soul.

And then du Maurier makes it clear that Svengali is evil, and the reader should hate him, because he is Jewish.

It feels profoundly hateful in a way that I still can't quite articulate. Most prejudice encourages us to see people as non-people. They don't have feelings, they are lesser, they don't count. By contrast, Trilby encourages us to see Svengali as a full person first and then to hate him anyway. The anti-Semitism in Trilby is the hatred of a neighbour. Du Maurier wants us to look deep into Svengali's eyes, and hate him all the same.

I don't think I've ever read a novel that wants this kind of hatred from me before, and I hope never to again.

[delulu4anime]

𝔚𝔢𝔩𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔗𝔬 𝔓𝔩𝔬𝔱 𝔈𝔩𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫⇥ ꜱɪᴛ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴇ

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ⇥ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱᴋɪᴘ!ᴛᴇᴛꜱᴜʀᴏ ᴋᴜʀᴏᴏ x ᴄʟɪɴɢʏɢꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀʀʏ ᴘᴀꜱꜱᴀɢᴇ⇥ ᴄᴏᴄᴋᴡᴀʀᴍɪɴɢ

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴜʟᴏɢʏ⇥ ᴜꜱᴜᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ʜᴏᴡ ᴄʟɪɴɢʏ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏᴛ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ʜɪꜱ ᴛʀɪᴘꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴀᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ɴᴏʀᴍᴀʟ. ʏᴏᴜ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴍɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴏᴜᴛʜ. ʜɪꜱ ᴘᴀᴛɪᴇɴᴄᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ʀᴜɴ ᴏᴜᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪꜱ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ.

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢꜱ⇥ ᴄᴏᴄᴋ ᴡᴀʀᴍɪɴɢ, ᴘɪᴠ, ᴅᴏɢɢʏ, ᴄʀᴇᴀᴍᴘɪᴇ, ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ᴏʀᴀʟ, ᴏɴᴇ ʙᴏᴏᴛʏ ꜱᴘᴀɴᴋ

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠᴏᴛɪᴏɴ⇥ 1.5ᴋ+

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴇʀᴍᴏɴ⇥ 🔞ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ. ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴀᴠᴇʏᴀʀᴅ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴋɪɴᴅʟʏ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴅɪꜱᴛᴜʀʙᴇᴅ. ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴏᴡ🔞- ꜱʜᴏᴡ ᴏꜰ ʜᴀɴᴅꜱ ᴡʜᴏ ᴇʟꜱᴇ ɴᴇᴇᴅꜱ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʟᴏꜱᴇʀ? ᴀɴʏᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴋᴜʀᴏᴏ ɪꜱ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ-ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ-ꜱɪx. ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ɪɴ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ-ᴏɴᴇ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴋᴜʀᴏᴏ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛꜱ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴘʟᴀʏ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴅᴀʏ ᴇʟᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴏꜰ ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ. ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ!

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ʜʏᴍɴꜱ⇥ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ɴᴏᴡ, ɪ'ᴍ ꜱʜᴀᴍᴇʟᴇꜱꜱ/ꜱᴄʀᴇᴀᴍɪɴ' ᴍʏ ʟᴜɴɢꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴀ/ɴᴏᴛ ᴀꜰʀᴀɪᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ɪᴛ/ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ/ꜱʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴍᴇʟᴇꜱꜱ/ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ɪᴛ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ɴᴇᴄᴋ, ᴡʜʏ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʏᴀ?/ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴇʀᴀꜱᴇ ɪᴛ

brat

/brat/

noun DEROGATORY•HUMOROUS

a child, typically a badly behaved one.

    Coincidentally that would the perfect word to describe you right now. Kuroo knew that he had been traveling a lot due to his job at the Japan Volleyball Association. With his promotions and pulling in more youth to enjoy volleyball just as much as he did, he was able to get people like Ushijima to come back to play for Japan. He felt like his phone was ringing off the hook, emails seemed to be never ending, and a few hours of sleep due to different time zones was a norm. It was something you understood and you were there for him. Always supporting him, always making sure he was taken care of. You usually didn't mind being away from him because you were just as busy with work and uni classes. Usually. 

    Kuroo had come back from a recent trip that had taken him away from you for nearly two weeks. Video calling was starting to become a nuisance because unless he was sitting in his hotel room the screen would freeze too much. The bed seemed so much bigger and colder than it usually felt. Wearing his clothes to bed only made you miss him more and when you were extra needy your fingers did nothing to reach the spots he could without even trying. It really wasn't your fault the way you practically tackled him when he got home. Nor was it your fault when you tried to attack him with kisses. No…but what was your fault was the way you continuously pouted and whined as you sat in his office. So much so that he finally had enough. 

If you were gong to be making those noises you would whine while sitting pretty on his lap with him buried in your aching core. You hadn't realized till now that maybe just maybe you shouldn't have been a brat. But you had a hard time expressing yourself properly which often came out in a bratty way instead of simply just saying you missed him. You had to show him which usually worked. However, your boyfriend lacked a little less sleep which meant he had plenty of time to deal with your bratty behavior. It's why you trembled on his lap and you were not allowed to move or else you wouldn't get anything for weeks. The worst punishment for being a brat like you. Your breathing was labored as you looked down to see Kuroo writing down his plans for the next few weeks. He was so easily focused on his work as if you weren't on his lap…on his cock.

    "Baby...please...please let me move." You whine out and Kuroo glance at you for a second before looking back down at his work.

    "No." He said in a firm tone. 

    "T-Tersu...I've already apologized a million times." You whine again. 

    You have the audacity to shift your hips against him for any kind of friction. It causes him to give you a warning swat at your thigh. You immediately stop your movements and tilt your head back to rest it against his shoulder. Your body trembles more and he doesn't even look over at you. His attention moving from the paperwork to his laptop. He shifted so he could start typing an email and it only caused you to clench around him. You could tell his breath shifted when you did so but he went right back to typing. You couldn't help but groan in frustration wondering how he could keep his cool. 

Little did you know that it was taking everything in him to pound into you. He had to keep his word to himself; don't give in. It’s what you deserved after running your bratty mouth a little too much. He continued to type as it filled his at home office and soon his voice filled the space too. Calm and commanding which knew meant he was unhappy with your behavior.

    "You're staying here until I'm done with my work. No more moving, no more whining. Do you understand?" Kuroo said as he shifted again and you swore he did that on purpose. 

You meekly nod your head as you close your eyes. This was simply torture. Listening to him type word after word while you cockwarmed him should be labeled as cruel and unusual punishment. Regardless you responded to him nonetheless.

    "Yes sir."

Kuroo smirked as he heard your response knowing you were going to act right which he was thankful for. He couldn't go anymore time without you. He had missed you so much and you had to ruin it by being a brat. Kuroo leans forward to whisper in your ear and you whimper at the movement. He relished the sight of his girl being so obedient now.

    "Good girl."

A shiver runs down your spine at the praise and you can't help but tighten around him again. He lets out a groan and moves his hands to your hips. You thought he was going to finally move so you decided to sweeten the deal.

    "P-Please...promise I'll never be a brat again."

Kuroo hummed softly at your words as he brushed his thumb over your exposed skin. He had to talk himself off the ledge; keep calm.

    "I don't know if I believe you."

    "Please," You whine loudly. "Promise I'll be good forever. Just wanna move. S' torture."

Kuroo let out a breathy chuckle as he listened to you whine. He let go of your hips and returns to the email he was typing up before.

    "And why should I believe you, princess? You were pretty bratty tonight."

    "Because I hate this punishment." You huff out which only earns you another chuckle from your boyfriend. 

    "Well I hate when you get bratty as soon as I come home. I want to spend time with you too but sometimes I just have to work on a few more things last minute. Doesn't mean I don't love you or don’t want to spend time with you." Kuroo said and you registered his words...really registered them this time.

You knew had the tables been turned you would've been upset about Kuroo being clingy too. With uni class and your full time job it was hard enough as it was to juggle your schedule so you couldn't imagine what it was like in Kuroo's line of work. You let out a sigh and nod your head as you watch the way his fingertips move over the keys. The veins in his hand on the back of his hands running up his arm and under the rolled up sleeves of his work shirt. 

    "I know...just get in my head sometimes is all." You murmur and the silence fills the room again. The only thing filling the space if the clicking of the keys.

That's all he needed to hear to know that you actually meant it. It did fill him with a bit of guilt for doing this and so with one last word typed out he suddenly shoved you forward against his desk. He set a brutal pace as his desk knocked against the wall repeatedly. Pens rolling off the desk, paperwork bunched and crumped in your grasp only to fall down to the floor. You moan out his name over and over again as his grip on your hips is bruising.

    "Missed this so much princess. Feels so good wrapped around me." Kuroo moaned out. 

You reached one hand out to place it against the way so you wouldn't hit your head against the wall. The other reaching back to rest of his abdomen as your ass slams back against him.

    "So hard to control myself with your tight cunt squeezing me like a vice." Kuroo grunted as he felt himself already getting close after nearly an hour and a half of you cockwarming him. 

    "B-Baby m' gonna cum...slow down!" You cry out and he lets out a breathy laugh. 

    "This is what you wanted isn't it? So be a good girl and take it." Kuroo said with harsh thrusts.

    Your combined moans fill his small office and you know the neighbors will have a word with your two tomorrow but you can't bring yourself to care too much at the moment. It all felt too good to care about the punishment or the fact he had been gone for so long. All that mattered was the two of you joined together as one. It was no wonder just a few more thrusts late you both were coming undone together. You cried out for him while he finished inside you with your name of his tongue like a sweet melody. After he catches his breath, Kuroo leans forward and starts placing soft kisses against your shoulder blades. You turn and look to see you had not only smashed a bunch of random keys in the email but you also accidentally sent the email to Kuroo's boss.

    "Oops." You sheepishly said and Kuroo turned to look at his laptop.

His eyes widened and he quickly went to go and try and fix the accidental mistake.

    "Shit. He's going to be so confused," Kuroo mumbled before he gave your ass a light spank. "Get on your knees and clean me up while I fix your little mistake." Kuroo teased.

©ᴅᴇʟᴜʟᴜ4ᴀɴɪᴍᴇ 2024 ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

ᴅᴀɪʟʏ ᴄʟɪᴄᴋꜱ

ᴘᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴇᴄᴛꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ɢʀᴀᴠᴇ

[love-byers]

(warning: long)

we should talk more about mikes choice of words in the rink o mania fight, or rather the writers choice of words

"You basically sabotaged the whole day!!"

sabotage

in case you need a reminder of what sabotage means

deliberately destroy, damage, or obstruct

mike is not just saying will was being a douche for moping, rolling his eyes, and barely talking. he's saying wills a douche because he's doing it on purpose. not even just on purpose either, he's saying will planned this. will wanted to ruin the day. mike thinks will was out to get him by withholding his friendship. obviously will wasn't doing any of this, he just moped because he felt brushed off by mike and was ignored (or so he thought).

that kind of behavior, thinking the consequences of his own actions are a planned attack against him, is very consistent with the way he acted in s3 when el dumped him and he blamed it on max.

we can connect this directly to mike's apology where he calls himself a self-pitying idiot. the self-pity is mike allowing himself to believe it's not his fault that his day sucked, that it's not his fault will is acting this way. deep down he knows it's his own fault by purposefully brushing will off at the airport, but he was being so self-absorbed and self-pitying that he convinced himself it wasn't.

"why is this on me?? why am i the bad guy??"

so lets go through this again, inferring from mike's own words.

when will left hawkins, he felt weird. he'd just spent the whole summer trying to be grown up and acting like he didn't care about dnd anymore, shutting will down and really hurting him in the process, so he probably feels embarrassed that he now feels the exact opposite. he enjoyed spending time with max, lucas, and dustin but it just wasn't the same without will. he missed will so badly that the fact that will was barely reaching out got to his head, and he felt too insecure to find out for himself. he didn't know if will felt the same way or if he was doing fine without mike, making lots of new friends and enjoying life. he was afraid he'd lost will. then here comes el with her letters saying how life is awesome and they have lots of friends. mike probably thought, oh now i'm DEFINITELY not telling him how i feel. the letter about will potentially liking a girl was the final straw. wow. so he's occupied with some girl and thats why he won't talk to me. so now mikes determined to not give will an inkling of an idea that he's bothered or that he cares. psh, mike could care less. maybe when will sees that mike totally doesn't care he'll feel like he screwed up and he'll be super nice to compensate and win mike back.

so mike gets to lenora and hey, will, i totally don't care about seeing you, see how i dodged your hug? i don't care. then he sees the painting. maybe it's not for someone he likes, maybe it's for me. here you go will, opportunity one to win back my affection.

"Uh, what's that?"

"Um, it's nothing, it's just this painting I've been working on."

"Cool."

operation-act like i don't care: EEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR FAILED.

LOOK at his face bro. he looks heartbroken.

from here on mike just got more and more annoyed. will isn't trying to win him back, he isn't compensating for the months of silence. he's acting sad. he's acting sad? he has the audacity to act sad after he made all these friends and left me behind?? no, this is not my fault, this is not on me. it gets under his skin in a way he can't ignore. those feelings of guilt and annoyance that will is causing mixed with his months worth of self pity and convincing himself he's not the problem leads him to another thought. he's doing this on purpose. he's punishing me. this was his plan all along. he's trying to ruin my day for no reason, because i clearly didn't do anything to deserve this.

then angela shows up and humiliates el and mike, for some insane reason, uses this as an excuse to express his anger to will, even though it had literally nothing to do with will.

"You should've told me she was having trouble."

"Well, I didn't know they were gonna be here, Mike."

"Yeah, but you knew she was having trouble for like a year and didn't tell me."

in WHAT world is this will's fault?? he had absolutely no idea el was lying until that day. and mike is blaming him? no, he's really not, he just wants a reason to express his anger without having to admit why he's angry.

"Well, I didn't know she was lying to you."

"Is that why you decided to be a douche to her all day?"

her. he's hiding behind el's name. psh, what? i don't care that you weren't talking to me, it's because of el.

el just got publicly humiliated and mike thinks now is the time to get on will and act like el's biggest problem was will not talking to her?? no way. he just doesn't want will to know that these are his feelings.

"I wasn't being a douche!"

this completely sets mike off. how dare will act all innocent after what he did to me all day? any part of him that was trying to hide that will's behavior is bothering him has been completely overridden. will purposefully withholding his attention from mike has pissed him off soooooo badly that he can't keep it to himself anymore or hide behind el.

"You were! You were! You were rolling your eyes, you were moping, you were barely talking you basically sabotaged the whole day!"

yup, thats right will. i know exactly what you're doing and i'm calling you out on it.

"Well she was lying to you, Mike! Straight to your face ever since you got here! And...and I've been a total third wheel all day it's been miserable. So sorry if I wasn't...if i wasn't smiling."

third wheel? really?

"Yeah, whatever man."

"Well what about us?"

"What?"

i imagine this is where mike shits himself. i mean he literally stops in his tracks. will is directly addressing what he'd been trying to hide his care for the whole time, them. all of a sudden after all these months, he cares about us? and it's poking at that weird feeling he had, like he missed will too much. like he was feeling too much.

"What, you're mad that I didn't talk to you? Seems like you've made it super clear you're not interested in anything I have to say."

"That's just not true."

mike says that so fast it's like a knee-jerk reaction. of course he cares what will has to say. all he's wanted all day, and all this time for that matter, was for will to talk to him. and will is blaming him?

"You called maybe a couple times. It's been a year, Mike. Meanwhile El has like a book of letters from you."

now mike's defense is kicking in. he feels like will is directly picking at that feeling. the weirdness. the fact that he feels differently for will than the rest of his friends, even his girlfriend.

"That's because she's my girlfriend, Will!"

"And us?"

now the alarms are going off. he knows something. "us" for will in this moment is just their friendship. "us" for mike is something more, because that's what's been brewing in him the whole time they've been apart. internalized homophobia in 3..2..

"We're friends! We're. Friends."

"Well, we used to be best friends!"

oh. he was just talking about our friendship. i was tweaking a little bit. and...ouch. will just officially said they aren't best friends anymore. and he's blaming it on mike. but mikes defenses are still up high.

"Well...well maybe you should've reached out more, I don't know! But why is this on me? Why am I the bad guy?!"

then will is lost for words, and he just look sad. and as mad as mike is, he hates seeing will that way.

i imagine the day or two between this and his apology, mike went over this fight in his mind multiple times. and the more he thought about it, the more he realizes, ah shit. i was way too in my head and this was completely one sided. will wasn't plotting against me, i just felt so bad for myself i convinced myself i did nothing wrong. all this because i thought he found new friends and i felt bad for myself. and now i've lost my best friend and made him feel like all of it is his fault. i have to let him know it's all on me.

tldr: mike is weird and gay.

[sainzproductions]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ⋆ 𝐜. 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳

where you belatedly realize, you and carlos may never want the same things in life

INSTAGRAM 🔒

liked by lewishamilton, landonorris and others

yourusername favorite time of the year🌅🧜🌊🩷🍷

carlossainz55 eres mi chica favorita todos los días

translation: you're my favorite girl every day

landonorris i think my invite got lost in the mail..

yourusername sorry i didn't want my competition on a trip with me🙄

landonorris why are you so jealous of me

landonorris carlossainz55 tell her who came in your life first🤨

carlossainz55 y/n did. '10. she was wearing a black cami top, with a dark navy blue jacket with a nets print in the front.

yourusername 💅💅💅

landonorris okay... you weirdos🙄 go and be disgusting off my timeline

yourusername you want me to fly you out huh?

landonorris so badly... i'll do anything for it😩🙏

maxverstappen1 can i fly out with lando? 🙋

yourusername depends, can you make it clap?🤔

maxverstappen1 i can make it go wooo!!

↶*ೃ✧��. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

You'd somehow, found yourself entrusted with a bright eyed, enthusiastic baby who was blowing bubbles from his mouth; chubby arms flailing by his side, as you held his small frame cautiously. His mother, one of carlos' many cousin had dropped the baby on your lap, before clamoring towards the bathroom in a haste to relieve herself.

“Don't look so stiff, y/n.” Blanca laughed at your shaken expression, crossing her arms in a resolute manner when you tried to hand the babbling baby to her. “Consider it practice, hermosa. He loves you, look.” she raises her eyebrows, gesturing with her hands to the baby who's bright eyes were intent on your face, giggling and muttering incoherently to himself.

You held the baby like it was a foreign object, hands hoisting him up by the armpits— your posture betraying your lack of finese in handling a fragile human being. In all the years, you've maintained a safe distance from any and possibly all soft headed creatures called babies. You've always appeared scared, and cautious when presented the opportunity to hold other people's children, opting to, instead politely decline and shrink behind whoever was accompanying you at the present moment.

“He's... something.” You tilt your head at the baby, slightly taken aback by the way he mirrors your movement. Blanca laughs, clearly enjoying your predicament.

“I don't know who's more charmed.” She teases, leaning back in her seat as she watches the hesitance slowly, but surely transform into fascination. The young one, as if sensing your initial reactions to his person, garbled more nonesense as if to maximize his cuteness— his chubby cheeks buldged, lips wobbling as he giggled, appearing delighted by your complex expressions.

“He's drooling, blanca.” You state, exssperated yet somewhat amused.

“Babies drool, y/n. They aren't the most intelligent creatures at that point.” You faintly hear the distinct sound of a shutter clicking, and you snap your head towards her— catching her with a phone in hand, a sheepish expression present on her face. “You looked identical, i'm sorry! I've always thought this would be you, someday. I mean, you went at it like bunnies when we were all younger—”

“Blanca, eso no es algo que digas en voz alta,” that's not something you say out loud. you chide, feeling your cheeks warm.

“Lo siento, hermosa.” She giggles, nudging your shoulder in apology, although you couldn't help but notice her expression shift slightly. “You can't blame me. When i think of you and my dear brother, i see you with ten little juniors running around your yard whilst the rest of us just borrow one of your children.”

You roll your eyes playfully at her ridiculous dream, “If i ever let it get to ten, you should tell him to get off me.”

The baby you were holding whines, wriggling to rest his head on your hands while blinking slowly. He was incredibly well behaved despite his drooling antics; and you couldn't help but notice the distinct features of a sainz in his face. Those warm brown eyes... and he was growing into his tall nose and matching trademark grin. He was adorable, you begrudgingly admit.

In a lapse of proper judgement, you allowed the baby to rest it's head on your shoulder. The toddler melting into your arms, quietly. Well behaved. Making himself comfortable in your arms. He was so tiny, you muse. So fragile and weak, you'd easily understood why there was such a thing people call a mother's instinct.

“You should have one first.” Blanca states, a soft smile on her face while you have your moment of realization.

“What should she have first?” Carlos asks, raising an eyebrow at your hushed conversations, pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek as he takes the seat beside you.

“Kids, carlos. It's impossible you have never thought of it.” Blanca answers like it was the obvious.

“I don't think it's anywhere near our future.” Carlos chuckles as if his sister had just told a joke, appearing taken aback as he belatedly notices the toddler on your arms who'd easily amused himself with the strands of your hair.

“How can you say that?” Blanca chides, hints of reproach evident in her tone. It is, afterall, somewhat strange that he thought of it in such a way— your relationship had been longer than any of hers had lasted, and it left a truly icky taste in her mouth.

“It's a converstation between y/n and i, Blanca. I don't think it's any of your business.” Carlos turned civil all of a sudden, snapping at his sister.

You bit your tongue to stop yourself from saying anything, the atmosphere suddenly becoming charged with tension.

“Oh muchas gracias, chica! I'm sorry i shoved him in your care,” the unnamed cousin thankfully interruped, oblivious to the tension in between you three as she took the baby from your hands. “Carlos, i haven't seen you in some time! How long will you be in spain?” she started chatting up to your boyfriend casually.

Blanca saw your eyes cloud briefly, she could distinctly class the change in your visage to longing.

Perhaps you weren't at all allergic to babies. Maybe she'd read you wrong. Maybe Carlos read you wrong.

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 1, 894,929 others

carlossainz55 you and me against the world

landonorris called me single in every language

username taking a toaster bath later🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️

username my unproblematic parents🥺😭😭

username i'd trade a limb to have a love like carlos and y/n🙃

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

The drive to your home was silent. Neither of you spoke. You allowed yourself to bask in the tender, but welcomed ache in your limbs as a result of a day spent under the sun and swimming for the better part of the eventful day. You'd thoroughly enjoyed the time you've spent just frolicking in the water and playing around with Carlos. It was always worthwile, there weren't many opportunities you had to spend some uninterrupted time together.

If he wasn't on a racetrack, zooming by in a blur, he was occupied with meetings, press and proper workouts inbetween, leaving you with scraps of his attention.

“Y/n?” Carlos repeats your name, failing to snap you out of your thoughts. With one hand on the steering wheel, and the other in your grasp, he tugs at your intetwined hands. It made you look at him. “I've been calling your name a couple of times, querida. Is there anything wrong?” He worries.

“Nothing's wrong.” You assured him, trying to muster a smile. He pauses, as if measuring his words. “You've been quiet.” you hum in response, looking out of the window as the car moves again.

“Talk to me y/n...” he utters, resembling a plea.

You take a deep breath, clearing your throat. “I'd rather not.”

His jaw clenches, muscles tensing at your short responses. “Is this about the conversation with Blanca? We've talked about this a million times; there's no one else i'd want all the permanent shit other than you. But you know right now is a very delicate time of my career and i can't—”

“risk jeopardizing any of the opportunities that comes my way.” You repeat monotonously, looking at him. “I know, Carlos. I know where i stand.” you said it with such certainty, the fact itself ingrained in your very being after so many years of falling behind his priorities.

He's made it clear, time and time again.

“But i don't want to wake up one day, and realize i have to start all over again because i spent all my time waiting for a moment that would never happen.” you weren't loud, nor were you screaming. Yet it dealt the same weight and hurt, that made him unable to refute you.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Redownloaded GFL because of your blog (also the main reason why I got into it in the first place) and I was surprised with all of the QOL changes they made.

My favorite so far is the non-critical auto repair after battles and it got me thinking how would the AR & DEFY girls react to an SO who scolds them when they return in critical condition but repairs them as tenderly and with as much care as possible despite their harsh demeanor. (Basically a tsundere SO who's worried sick but refuses to admit it)

Love your blog and I hope you're doing well. Thank you for continuously feeding my (and everyone else's) obsession with raifu's.

(GFL) AR Team and DEFY's S/O repairing them

AR Team: M4A1, M16A1, ST AR-15, M4 SOPMOD II, RO635 DEFY: AK-12, AN-94, AK-15, RPK-16

It has been too long since I have written the Raifus on the blog, time to rectify that. Also TSUNDERES WOOOOOO-

M4A1 winces from the light of S/O's blowtorch welding her metallic limbs back together.

Seeing it return to green status in her eyes, she simply sighs when S/O stands up, shifting their welding mask up in order to look at her.

Seeing S/O cross their arms, M4A1 already knows what they're about to say.

(M4A1) "S/O, I know I-"

(S/O) "Went overboard? Psh, that's never stopped you before."

M4A1's hands took a moment to readjust themselves as S/O examined one of her legs that was currently sitting on a nearby table, badly damaged.

(S/O) "It almost seems like what I request to you and the Commander just gets ignored deliberately. Do you think I can repair you all the time without any effort?-"

(M4A1) "S/O."

M4A1's arm that revealed her metallic frame grabbed S/O's hand, finally making them pause.

She gently tugged S/O toward her, and despite their angry expression, the tears forming in the corner of their eyes betrayed any lingering anger that may have been present.

And with her one arm that had the synthetic skin remain, gently wiped away S/O's tear.

(M4A1) "...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you."

(S/O) "...If you don't mean to do that, then just come home in one piece so I don't have to do this."

Their voice dropped to nearly a whisper, but she had no trouble hearing them clearly.

S/O let M4A1's hand linger on their face for a moment while they took a deep breath again, though this time much calmer than before.

(S/O) "Now stand still, I have to make sure your leg is properly patched up."

(M4A1) "Thank you, S/O."

S/O averted their gaze to grab her leg, though she knew the real reason they refused to meet her eyes, bringing a small but sad smile to her lips.

(S/O) "Don't thank me. I've yet to finish...And you're not walking out of here without my help, understood?"

(M4A1) "Hah, got it."

S/O grumbled under their breath as M16 sheepishly let her jacket drop.

Only to reveal an entire forearm missing.

(M16A1) "...For the record, that wasn't my fault."

(S/O) "Couldn't have grabbed the missing part?"

(M16A1) "It was uh...a little beyond recovering at that point."

(S/O) "You are going to be the death of me, Sixteen."

(M16A1) "Heh, come on! I'm making sure you get Griffin's paychec-"

(S/O) "By what, making sure I put you back together like goddamn Humpty Dumpty everytime you come back?!"

M16 flinched by S/O raising their voice, and only noticed now how tightly S/O was gripping onto her remaining hand.

Which also was damaged.

(S/O) "I get taking damage during a mission, it's unvavoidable, but 90% of the time, it is!"

(M16A1) "...S-S/O, I didn't mean to-"

(S/O) "Don't apologize. Just...Don't make me work so hard."

S/O gaze lingered on her missing limb, to which she responded by grabbing their hand and resting it near her eyepatch.

(M16A1) "Come on, can't have your skills going rusty, can I?"

Her tone was cheeky, but her volume was soft, letting S/O's fingers brush against her cheek before going to grab repair tools.

(S/O) "At this rate, I'm going to need a drink..."

(M16A1) "Heh, wanna share? It's on me."

(S/O) "...Then I'm grabbing the most expensive Jack Daniels they have."

And to that, M16's cocky attitude deflated.

(M16A1) "...Shoulda kept my mouth shut."

STAR rolled her arms the moment she felt the connection back online.

(ST AR-15) "Thanks, feeling much better now."

(S/O) "These parts aren't cheap, STAR.-"

Before she could retort, S/O pulled her wrist towards them, examining it with a scanner before nodding in satisfaction.

(S/O) "And contrary to how you think, your life isn't something to throw away either."

STAR opened her mouth but instead of any reply, only a sigh came out.

(S/O) "If you won't think of yourself, then at least think of me. I have to be the one making sure you're all good to go before you tear yourself apart again."

(ST AR-15) "...R-Right."

S/O shook their head as their hand shifted down into hers, holding it firmly.

(ST AR-15) "I don't plan on going anywhere, S/O."

(S/O) "Hm. Tell me that when you're not coming home to me in twenty pieces."

ST AR-15 wryly grinned at S/O, playfully kicking at them with a missing foot on her right leg, exposing both synthetic skin and the electrical bits inside.

(ST AR-15) "Twenty-one, actually."

S/O turned around to grab other tools, but STAR could tell they smiled at her joke.

(M4 SOPMOD II) "BOOOOOREEEED!"

SOPMOD aggressively wiggled her metallic stumps where her arms previously where, whining as she bobbed back and forth on the table.

S/O focused their attention on finishing the last of the repairs on her arms, with them sighing loudly.

(S/O) "SOPMOD, I told you before, I'm nearly done."

(M4 SOPMOD II) "You said that forever ago!-"

(S/O) "Three minutes-"

(M4 SOPMOD II) "FOREVER!"

S/O did their best to ignore her pouting as they finally completed the necessary adjustments, moving to reattach her arms.

(S/O) "You wouldn't have to wait like this if you just listened to RO, y'know."

(M4 SOPMOD II) "Bah! I wouldn't have been able to kick their asses if I hadn't!"

(S/O) "Plus, you're making me work harder than I have to."

She raised an eyebrow at S/O's words, a grin quickly growing.

(M4 SOPMOD II) "Don't act like that you wouldn't be worried if you weren't the one doing my repairs!"

(S/O) "Please, I already have so much work piled up, I-"

SOPMOD yelped the moment a hiss came from her right arm reattaching, making S/O's heart drop as their eyes widened.

(S/O) "S-SOPMOD! Are you alright?!-"

And their worry was replaced with annoyance as SOPMOD's pained expression transformed into a cheeky smile, tapping S/O playfully on the nose with her claw-like finger.

(M4 SOPMOD II) "Gotcha!"

(RO635) sigh "You have my thanks and apologies, S/O."

S/O shook their head as they softly brushed RO's hair to her back, getting a closer look at the damage on her shoulders.

(S/O) "Hm. I know you avoid damage whenever you can. Just stay still."

Though their tone was cold, it didn't bother RO in the slightest.

She knew how they really felt.

(RO635) "Truthfully, I'm fine S/O. You don't need to worry too much-"

(S/O) "About the bullet that almost tore through your connections on this arm? On the contrary you're giving more reasons to worry."

(RO635) "A-Ah..."

RO's hands rested on her lap, with S/O's head near her neck.

Feeling her core thrum faster as she quickly examined her surroundings to make sure no one was looking, RO stole a quick peck, kissing the top of their head making S/O freeze.

(RO635) "...Sorry, bad time?"

(S/O) "Just...warn me next time before you snap me out of my focus."

12 hummed idly while S/O examined her hand, which was currently beside her, separated from her arm.

(S/O) "How in the world did this happen?"

(AK-12) "Well, you can't just sit on your thumbs all day without doing repair work! Just making sure you're not out of a job."

S/O rolled their eyes at her smug tone, but said nothing as they went about repairing it.

(S/O) "I do repairs everyday while I'm back here, thank you very much."

(AK-12) "Then you won't mind doing one more for your beloved, would you?~"

(S/O) "Isn't it your job to make sure you don't get that hurt?"

(AK-12) "My job is to fulfill whatever Angie tells us. Same for you, as far as I recall."

12's eyes opened slightly as her smile grew.

(AK-12) "And...I'm fairly sure you're not supposed to be treating me like a princess either. But no complaints from me.~"

S/O's cheeks darkened the moment they realized their position: kneeling in front of 12 while putting her hand back gently, which the hand promptly patted S/O's head.

Making their eye twitch as 12 laughed.

If 94 could bow in apology, she would.

However, she was currently laying on the table as multiple mechanical arms set about repairing the damages on her, with S/O standing next to her.

Several bullet wounds were inflicted on her, thankfully mostly superficial, but heavy duty equipment was required.

(S/O) "Good god, how did this even happen?"

(AN-94) "It was my negligence, my apologies S/O. I will have to be more alert."

S/O's hand reached to her lower back, moving her to sit upright as the arms whirred away to give them space.

(S/O) "You better. I don't want to have to do this everytime."

(AN-94) "The last thing I want to do is burden you."

(S/O) "Hey. I didn't say that-"

(AN-94) "But-"

S/O put a finger to her lips, making her blink as her eyes trailed to her lover, who was in the process of covering their mouth.

And failing to hide a blush.

(S/O) "I just...don't want to see you hurt, Ninety-Four."

(AN-94) "S/O"

(S/O) "I said please extend your arms. I have to do final inspection and see if I need any touch-ups."

(AN-94) "...Understood."

94 heard them clearly, but still didn't understand why S/O always seemed flustered saying these kinds of things.

15 stoically turned to S/O as they finished their repairs, allowing her to stand up properly, with S/O gently guiding her up.

She gave a single nod, slow and grateful.

(AK-15) "Thank you, S/O. Your repairs are efficient as always."

(S/O) "Can't have our strongest given to some shoddy engineer, after all."

She hummed in agreement, before taking a moment to bow.

(AK-15) "I apologize for having made the mistake of getting hurt to begin with."

Truthfully, 15 always took the worst of the damage, but that was because she was essentially a walking tank.

Hell, S/O was fairly positive 15 could actually beat the tank to death with her bare hands.

(S/O) "D-Damage is unavoidable. Don't apologize for it. As long as you always come back to me, it's fine."

A moment passed before S/O's eyes widened, in disbelief in what 15 got them to say out loud.

(AK-15) "Is something the matter? Your heartrate has spiked-"

(S/O) "N-Nothing! It's nothing!"

16 raised an eyebrow seeing how kindly S/O attended to her.

Not a moment ago they were chastising her for even taking damage, making S/O work so hard.

(RPK-16) "My, what happened to that foul attitude from earlier, S/O?"

(S/O) "What are you talking about?"

She giggled, tilting her head past the equipment to see S/O tending to her leg.

(RPK-16) "Do you perhaps find peace working on me after all? You don't seem nearly as upset now that I'm here-"

(S/O) "Psh, don't get it mixed up. I'm happy to get you fixed and out of the repair bay."

(RPK-16) "Aw, you do care!"

(S/O) "About my work-"

(RPK-16) "And, you're working on me."

S/O mumbled something, making RPK-16 laugh.

Humans were so prideful sometimes...

Well, all the time really.

[uzurakis]

as a fellow nagumo lover, how about i request nagumo saving reader (who’s also an assassin) while she’s badly injured and teasing her as she recovers 🙃

your eyes flutter awake, and you're greeted by the sight of yoichi nagumo lounging in a chair by your bed, his feet propped up on the edge. those dark eyes light up the moment he sees you stir.

"well, look who's decided to join the land of the living~!" he exclaims, a wide grin spreading across his face. awhile ago, you slowly regain consciousness, the beeping of the hospital machines faintly registering in your ears. the body of yours feels heavy and sore, memories of the mission flooding back; remembering the ambush, the fight, and then the pain. but most of all, you remember nagumo’s face, his expression uncharacteristically serious as he saved you. and you don’t see that often, never, actually.

you try to speak, but your throat is dry, and all that comes out is a croak. nagumo jumps up, leaning over you with an exaggeratedly concerned expression.

"oh no! have you forgotten how to talk? i guess i'll just have to handle all the conversation from now on," he says, feigning a dramatic sigh.

you roll your eyes, managing to croak out, "water."

he grabs a cup of water from the table, but instead of handing it to you, he holds it just out of your reach. "first, you have to answer a riddle. what has four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon, and three legs in the evening?"

"nagumo, seriously?" you rasp, your annoyance mingled with a slight, very tiny hint of amusement. man, i just woke up, you say in your head.

he only chuckles and finally gives you the water. "fine, i'll let you off this time. but only because you look like you’ve been through a meat grinder."

the cool liquid soothing your parched throat as you take a grateful sip. "thanks.. for the rescue," you manage to say.

nagumo waves his hand dismissively. "oh, don't mention it. just another day in the life of your favorite assassin."

don't mention it, he says with a casual wave of his hand, his trademark grin firmly in place. but beneath that easygoing facade, he's a whirlwind of emotions. the memory of finding you bleeding and unresponsive still haunts him, a gnawing fear that he might lose you forever. he can still feel the cold dread that settles in his stomach when you don't respond to his frantic calls, the way his heart pounds in his chest as he carries you to safety. every step is a desperate prayer that you'll hold on, that you'll survive. seeing you lying so still, so vulnerable, shakes him to his core. regardless of his lighthearted demeanour, he can't shake the residual anxiety of nearly losing you, the concern that one day his abilities may be worthless to keep you safe.

"favorite, huh?" you tease, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the pain.

"absolutely," he says, winking. "and you know, you gave us quite a scare. i mean, i had to carry you all the way back here. do you have any idea how heavy you are?"

you glare at him playfully. "maybe if you weren't so scrawny, it wouldn't have been a problem."

the guy laughs, the sound infectious. "touché. but really, you had us all worried. even sakamoto looked like he might actually break a sweat."

"i'm sorry," you say softly, feeling a pang of guilt for the trouble you caused. “i really thought it could handle them by myself. sorry..”

nagumo's expression softens for a moment, his usual levity giving way to genuine concern. "hey, don't apologize. i've got your back, and you've got mine. besides, it’s not like i’d let anything happen to my favorite partner, riiight? why are you looking at me like that?”

before you can respond, he suddenly leans in close, a mischievous glint in black pupils. "oh, by the way, did i tell you? i told the nurses you’re afraid of needles. so they might have a surprise for you when they come to change your IV."

your eyes widen in horror, and he bursts out laughing at your reaction. "relax, i’m kidding. or am i? guess you’ll find out soon enough."

"you rascal," you mutter, shaking your head.

"you owe me a box of pocky sticks," he says with a grin, leaning back in his chair.

despite the pain and exhaustion, you can’t help but smile. "i guess i do."

he reaches over and gently squeezes your hand. "get some rest. i’ll be here when you wake up. and who knows, maybe i’ll have another riddle for you."

"great," you say sarcastically, if it’s not for your injuries, maybe you’ve already thrown a pillow at his face. though, you know you can always count on him to be there for you, pranks and all.

@uzurakis

[oceaneyesinla]

Horror Games

This is a silly idea. It's also the first time I've written for Bakugo but my Bakugo loving mutuals have converted me (if i've butchered your man and he's horribly out of character, please tell me!!!)

If you can guess what horror game i was thinking of when i wrote this, you get a cookie!

Divider by @/cafekitsune

The only sounds in the room are your breathing, the clicking of your keyboard keys, and the sounds of the game running on the screen in front of you. You’re alone in the apartment, and you decided to make the most of it; you’re playing a horror game, one you’ve wanted to play for a while, and you’ve gone all out. Headphones on, lights out - crafting the perfect atmosphere to get a good scare. It’s not often you play horror games; you’re a scaredy cat, cowering in Katsuki’s arms whenever a horror gets picked for movie night. You’re not much better in real life scenarios - you still haven’t lived down your last trip to a haunted house with Denki, Eijiro, Mina and Kyoka.

You love the story behind these games, though, so you’re willing to be brave. How bad can it be, anyway? You’ve watched so many playthroughs of other people playing - surely the jumpscares can’t get you that badly.

Everything is going well - the chicken is staying the fuck away from you, the fox is keeping its ass behind its curtains where it belongs and you’re already mentally patting yourself on the back. Maybe you are good at games after all.

Then two things happen at once. A giant blue bunny face fills the screen accompanied by a horrifying scream. That alone would have been fine. Scary, but fine. Except that at the same time, the main room light flicks on, surrounding you with unexpected light.

You let out a scream of your own, ripping your headphones off your head and pushing your chair away from the desk. The combined momentum of shoving away and trying to turn around to panic about who or what was turning the light on in your empty apartment makes the chair lose balance and you end up in a heap on the floor, still screaming as your eyes adjust to the brightness. Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest, your palms sweaty.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Katsuki is already moving towards you, clapping a hand over your mouth to quiet your scream even as he skims the other across your skin, checking for any injuries. His eyes, too, are studying you, crimson gaze watching your expression for any pain.

You wiggle your mouth away from his hand, “What am I doing? What are you doing?! You’re supposed to be out with Eijiro and Denki!” Residual panic is making your voice pitchy and your words rushed.

Now that he’s reassured himself that you’re none the worse for wear after your little impromptu meeting with the floor, Katsuki is doing a terrible job of hiding his laughter, “Kiri got called in for a last minute patrol - we rescheduled for next week. Did you not see my text?”

“Clearly not!” Your fear is wearing off, and Katsuki’s laughter is as catching as ever. Soon, you’re both giggling as he helps you to your feet, rubbing at the skin of your thigh soothingly when you wince at the dull pain there. He tucks you against his chest, pressing a kiss to your head as he murmurs an apology into your hair (even if he doesn’t sound particularly sorry, with laughter still colouring his words).

“Why were you even playing a horror game anyway? You can barely get through a horror movie without hiding behind me. What made you think making it interactive would help?” He’s speaking the truth, but that doesn’t mean you like it. You push him away with a pout, sticking your tongue out at him for good measure. It’s not fair that the smile he shoots you in response makes him look so pretty.

“Alright, c’mon sweetness. I brought cake. Truce?”

You perk up immediately, lips ticking up into a grin as you beam at him. He scoffs at your 180, but still grabs your hand to lead you to the kitchen. You’re already fantasising about the cake he’s about to feed you (and the squirty cream you just know he’s brought home too, just because it’s your favourite) so you stop in your tracks at the finger in front of your nose.

“If you have nightmares tonight, don’t expect me to coddle you. You did this to yourself, sweetness.”

You cross your arms, defiant, “I won’t have nightmares!”

You do. And despite his earlier words, Katsuki still pulls you into his chest and murmurs comfort against your skin, rubbing his warm hand up and down your back until you fall asleep again, slipping into much sweeter dreams of being in his arms.

@pixelcafe-network

[callme-holly]

Do you think maybe you could write for Johnny where he goes on a first date with reader but he’s nervous and kinda messes it up but they try again and it works out? Sorry if that’s too specific!! Love your writing ♥️

'𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬' [𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - I'm so sorry if parts of this doesn't make sense, I've been so sick this past week, my lungs are actually giving up on me.

Anyway, illness aside, as always I hope ya'll enjoy this and my asks are still open for requests!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 897 words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - mild swearing and Johnny being Johnny <33

Johnny Cade chews on his bottom lip nervously, his fingers tapping against the surface of the table as he looks anywhere but you. He knows he should start up some sort of conversation; hell, he invited you here in the first place, but every time he opens his mouth to speak, he can't seem to muster up the words. His tongue feels like sandpaper, his throat dry and scratchy, and he can't help but notice the way you’re watching him from the other side of the table, eyebrows raised slightly as if you can sense that something is troubling him. 

Your eyes are gentle and sympathetic as they hold his own gaze firmly in place, but there's something else there too, something akin to sympathy. Or maybe it's concern. The same sort of concern that you would show to a frightened child or a scared cat. Johnny is not either of those things.

He clears his throat, looking down at his now half-empty coke bottle.

“So, uh,” he begins, running a hand through his hair awkwardly, not quite meeting your gaze. “What d'ya wanna talk about?” He tries to sound casual, but there's an underlying tone of nervousness that he can't seem to hide as you shrug slightly in response to his question.

 “Well, I don’t know,” you say softly. “I suppose we could talk about anything.”

His mouth opens, then shuts again just as quickly.

Anything? That wasn't helpful at all... 

“Do you... um...” He trails off for a second before shaking his head slightly. This was ridiculous. He knew what he wanted to say; why couldn't he get any fucking words out around you? 

Johnny shakes his head. “Never mind,” he mutters, his voice quiet as he goes back to staring at his coke bottle. You watch as his fingers tap idly at the glass, huffing out a small, quiet sigh. 

After another moment of silence, you reach across the table and take one of his hands, gently entwining your fingers with his. He stills instantly, startled by your touch, and you pull back slightly.

“Sorry. Was that too forward?”

“No!” His voice cracks slightly as he blinks owlishly at you. “Uh, no. It was... um... fine.” He takes a deep breath to calm himself. “It's fine. I mean, you just... surprised me, that's all.” He laughs weakly before clearing his throat again. “What did you say you wanted to talk about?”

You smile faintly. “I didn't.”

“Oh.” He swallows thickly, trying to ignore how badly he wishes he could just turn and run for the door. Why had he let Dally talk him into this? His buddy didn’t know any more about dates than he himself did. He should’ve gone to Soda instead. 

“Johnny?” Your voice pulls him from his thoughts, and he turns to face you again, finding you watching him intently, an unreadable expression on your face as you slowly begin to pull your hand back once more. “Are you okay? You've been acting weird since we got here. If you're uncomfortable, I understand. We can leave and find something else to do.”

“No!” He blurts, reaching to entwine your fingers, only to knock over his drink in the process, the contents promptly spilling over the table and, much to Johnny’s horror, onto you. His eyes widen in dismay, and he stands abruptly, grabbing a handful of napkins from the table across from you and wiping up the spill as fast as his trembling hands will allow, a string of apologies tumbling forth from his lips as he does so. 

“Shit, I'm sorry,"  he manages to stammer before you cut him off.

“It's fine, Johnny. Don't worry about it.” You stand slowly from your seat, trying to ignore the cold press of the wet fabric on your skin as you usher him out of the diner, ignoring the strange looks you receive from other patrons. 

As soon as the door closes behind you, the greaser is throwing apologies at you once more, running a hand through his heavily greased hair. “God damn it, I'm so-”

You shake your head. “Hey,” you interrupt quietly. “It's okay. Really.”

“Still…” He hesitates, taking in a shaky breath before starting to speak again. “Look, can we maybe try again? Somewhere that isn't a busy diner with loads of people.” He rubs nervously at the back of his neck, unable to meet your gaze.

He didn't usually have a problem with busy places, but he certainly didn't enjoy it when everybody's attention was on him, their judgement heavy and suffocating as they bore holes into him with their disgusted stares. 

He shakes his head and adds, “Maybe somewhere with a lower risk of me spillin' my drink all over ya.”

Your lips tug upwards. “Sure, we can try again. How about a movie on Friday night?” 

Your suggestion brings a light flush to Johnny's cheeks, and he nods eagerly. A movie might help to take his mind off everything, to take away from his nerves a little bit. 

“Yea, sure.” He pauses and bites at his lower lip briefly. “You need me to walk ya home?”

You laugh softly. “No. It's only a few blocks. You get yourself home, Johnny Cade.”

He nods, looking hopeful. “Right. See you Friday?”

“Friday.” You confirm, offering him one last smile before heading off in the direction of your house, leaving him standing dumbfounded on the curb.

Gosh, wait until Dally hears about this... 

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

Izzy doesn't even have a coming to terms with his sexuality arc in season 2 it's much closer to gender, and I've seen a similar gender expression journey to Izzy in season 2 on the middle aged straight dads of queer children. I'm gonna gear my description of what happens towards a father and son example because Izzy's hang ups are very much about toxic masculinity, but I'm a transgender man and I'm on the journey I'm about to describe with my formerly borderline terf mom, so it can apply to other genders.

Anyway: At first the dad who I'm positing is like Izzy punishes his son for putting on a skirt or holding hands with a boy, then he realizes how badly trying to suppress his kid's sexuality is hurting his kid, who he loves in spite of the way he's treating him, so he does his best to change his mind and learn about the queer community and then eventually he goes to a pride event in an I love my gay son shirt and then the son feels like he can finally bring his boyfriend over for dinner and maybe someday the dad apologizes even though its awkward or maybe they let it go unspoken. I've even had a friend who put his reformed homophobic dad in drag makeup for TikTok content.

I'm not saying that's exactly what happened to Izzy, I suppose if we mapped this onto Izzy's journey Ed would be the son but a big part of Izzy getting better was him having a bunch of gay coworkers do something nice for him in a way that had nothing to do with Ed, which doesnt usually happen with the reformed parents, or maybe it does idk I've only experienced it as the queer child or as friend of the queer child so I wouldn't know. Also they usually don't perform in drag shows. But I would also say that they aren't usually pirates on boats where every single other person is queer in some way. The places where Izzy diverges off this path have nothing to do with Izzy coming to terms with any lust for men he may or may not have and everything to do with the setting he's in.

Also to be clear I'm not saying Izzy is straight, I'm just saying the jury is still out. He could have been out the whole time or he could have come out in 2.02 when he said "I have love for you" or he could have meant that platonically and died in the closet or he could have meant that completely platonically and been straight or aro/ace, but whatever way you slice that his season 2 arc is way less about coming out and coming to terms with his own sexuality and way more about learning to accept Ed for who he is and every other queer person around him by proxy.

[phenomenal1500]

~In The Gods' Favor~

Masterlist

A/N: This is a combined request asked by three anons on Tumblr. I felt like these requests could fit together perfectly and I hope you all like it!

Summary: Reader is stuck in an arranged marriage with Harald and sees his scars by the Pechenegs for the first time.

Timeline: Season 2, after the Pechenegs.

Pairing: Harald Sigurdsson x Fem!Reader Warning: Smut, breeding kink, arranged marriage.

Sitting in the gorgeously decorated great hall in Kattegat, Y/N was watching the Norsemen feasting and celebrating because of her marriage with the new king of Norway. However, everything didn't sit right with her.

How could other people be happy at such a time but her?

She knew who she married. King Harald had made sure to meet and spend time with her before their marriage so she wouldn't feel overwhelmed marrying a stranger, but happiness? That she couldn't express at this hour.

Perhaps it was because she was closed off to new opportunities or perhaps because she had built a wall so she didn't have to let him in, but she simply couldn't be excited even though she had to admit the norseman was besides attractive also very lovely and caring.

"You're doing alright, sæta?" King Harald slowly dropped himself beside her on the small bench that she had been sitting on all evening now.

"I think I'm doing fairly well." She nodded and looked back at the exciting and hopeful crowd again.

"We're giving them hope." He whispered, laying his large hand on her lower back. "We must think about that."

"I've never been much of a leader." She admitted, for the first time not backing away or pushing his hand away either. Sooner or later things had to get more heated between the two so a simple loving touch didn't bother her so much anymore. "These people.. they aren't my people."

"After today they are, love." He slowly rubbed her back and tried to make her look at him. "They're as much my people as they are yours."

"Out of everyone, why me?" She finally pulled her eyes off the crowd and back to her husband.

"You seemed sweet and very quick-witted." He smiled. "And from the moment they introduced you, I knew you would stand by me proudly."

"I'm not standing anywhere yet." She may have already been royal before they married, but since she was the youngest of her sisters, she had never been taught how to be a proper queen. She didn't trust herself to lead a country yet.

"You will soon." He gently lifted her hand to his lips and gave the back of it a soft kiss. "Trust me when I say you were born for this."

"I trust you." She slowly nodded and had a slight blush on her cheeks.

"That's all that matters." He gently lifted her chin with his index finger before he closed the gap between them, catching her lips with his as he pulled her in for a slow passionate kiss.

"King Harald." She panted softly after she pulled away, cheeks even redder.

"Not the right moment?" He stroked her hair, letting her decide for herself if she wanted to continue the kiss. He wasn't going to force her into anything. That wasn't like him. If the kiss wasn't what she wanted, Harald would apologize right away.

"No, it's not that." She cleared her throat nervously, but instantly relaxed in his touch. "However, perhaps we should go somewhere more private?"

"Is that really what you wish for, Y/N?" He whispered, cupping her face with his hands.

"I think so." She was a bit uncertain, but she preferred some alone time with the man anyway. The crowd only made her feel more pressured to show forced love to him, and if the traditions were true, after the wedding celebrations six people would accompany them to their bridal bed and she would rather experience things alone with him before that.

"Come on then, sæta." He got up and held out his hand which she took without any hesitation.

She wanted to be out of there badly and especially if it meant exploring her feelings with him before anyone would witness it.

She couldn't imagine how forced and hurried that would be like.

The king brought her to their now shared bedroom, helping her inside before he closed and locked the door so no one could get in and harm them. "You're certain about this my queen?" He questioned again, just to reassure himself that she wanted this too and he wasn't forcing her into anything. He had been raised to respect and care for his women, no matter if it was an arranged marriage and they had to by tradition.

For him and a lot of other Norsemen, unlike the men from England, it was important both sides wanted this.

"Yes, I'm sure of my decision, Harald." She smiled a little, feeling soothed by the way he made sure she was okay with such a thing at all times.

"Come over here, gorgeous~." He returned the sweet smile and watched the woman obey him, carefully closing the gap between them herself now.

Right when she took the last step towards him, she could feel his warm lips on hers again. Tongue playfully exploring her mouth, he sneaked his arms around her thighs and picked her up that way, holding her close to him.

She had to admit it made her feel feelings she never thought she was capable of feeling and here she was, experiencing them with a man she actually started to desire.

"My king~?" She blushed and cupped his face, staring deeply into his darkened eyes filled with lust.

"You're allowed to only say my name, Ketta. You are my wife, not an unknown person to me." He spoke against her lips softly and she nodded.

"Harald~?" She licked her lips slowly to taste more of him when he carefully laid her down on her back.

"What is it?" He made sure to caress every inch of her body, starting with kissing her shoulders as he unlaced the laces of her dress located between her breasts. It instantly made her feel flustered, but didn't stop him and he didn't stop either.

Lust was slowly taking over~ they needed each other badly.

"I desire you." She felt her heart speed up a bit when he took off her dress more with every kiss. It even doubled its speed when his hands and lips finally found her breasts, fingers trailing up and down her breasts before rolling her hardened nipples between his fingers and kissing the valley between them. It instantly caused a strange sensation in her body and she suddenly felt the wet heat worsen between her legs.

"I desire you too, ketta." He muttered against her soft skin, hands moving down to her sides and down to her hips as he pushed the fabric further down.

There she was, bare and open to him.

He had to admit it made his cock grow solid in his trousers right away when he saw her gorgeous body, but he was holding himself back and keeping himself calm.

He wasn't a quick-fuck type of guy, he wanted to treat her like the queen she was.

Despite how he felt about how beautiful she was, she herself was slightly anxious. Nobody had ever seen her without clothes, let alone this vulnerable too, and especially after he slowly spread her legs.

"All I'm asking of you is to loosen up and let me take care of her, sæta, that way it'll feel the best."  He ran his fingers over her wet pussy lips to worship it gently and pulled his hand back again. He knew he had to be careful with her and that's why he needed her to relax for him.

"I'll try my best, Harald." She mumbled, nibbling on her lower lip as he suddenly got on his knees in front of her. "What~ what are you doing?"

"It's okay, my love~." He reassured her as his lips touched her inner thigh, giving it sloppy wet kisses as he trailed his way up to the place that needed to be touched the most.... The place that was aching and begging for nobody but his touch.

"Please." She panted softly, letting the small beg roll of her tongue before she could stop herself. She honestly didn't really know what she was begging for, but it made him chuckle and before she knew it he was giving her clit a loving kiss too. Her chest immediately went up and down faster because of it and the pleasure that shocked through her body increased especially when he wrapped his lips around it and gently started to suck.

That brought her to Valhalla right away.

"Mmhmm~." Y/N arched her back, loving the new delightful feelings as he licked her up, giving her wet pussy long and slow licks before going back to sucking. "Harald~."

"I know, ketta." Harald growled, his hands stroking her inner thighs as he dove right back into her ocean. "I know it feels good." He spoke straight into her core, her whole body shivering because of it.

He needed her ready for him.

He needed this to feel good for her.

Lifting her legs and resting them over his shoulders, he licked her insides a little faster. He wanted her pretty pink pussy more than soaked and ready to take all of him and in no time her legs were already shaking.

He knew she was close, but unfortunately for his beautiful wife he wasn't going to make her cum so soon.

Harald pulled back, his beard covered in her juices, but he didn't care. His eyes landed on his wife again, her pretty eyes filled with lust and her cheeks having this cute red tone, she was so precious to him. "You prefer to have all of me?"

"Yes. I would love to have all of you." She smiled after she managed to get out of her stunned embarrassed state. This was all new to her and seeing him this shameless was unusual so of course it was normal she had to get used to the barefaced activities.

She slowly sat up though and actually managed to help her husband take off his armor before her eyes suddenly landed on the horrifying scars on his chest.

"What happened...?" She raised her hand and carefully outlined them with her fingers.

"It happened before I was crowned king of Norway. A man named Vitomir promised to pay me and my friend Leif a lot of treasure if we could deliver something to the emperor in Constantinople." He proudly explained while he unlaced his trousers. "But there were many Pecheneg camps settled along the shores we sailed."

"Pechenegs...?" Her eyes shot up to his deep hazel ones, staring at him with a slightly dropped jaw.

If there was anything she heard about Pechenegs, it was that they were extremely violent, well, they loved giving their enemies a tough time.

It was a wonder Harald was still alive.

"Yes, Pechenegs." He nodded and crawled on top of her in a hot way, his hands resting on either side of her head to keep his body weight off of her. "The cowards pierced my skin and string me up by my chest to see how much it would take for me to beg for mercy, but I never did."

Y/N listened closely to the king, but actually focused more on the ugly scars.

"Do they still hurt..?" She pushed herself up on her elbows to kiss each scar.

"No, neither do my muscles." He kissed her forehead. "So do not worry about me. We're not here together and bare to worry about my injuries."

"I know." She suddenly blushed again when she felt his hard cock pressing against her thigh. She then wrapped her arms around his neck while her legs spread some more on their own to make room for him between them. "I can feel that we aren't here for that."

"You want it~?" He teased playfully, rubbing his tip between her wet folds which got her body squirming with need.

"Yes, please Harald." She begged, her eyes never leaving his as he grabbed her hand and brought it down to touch his perfectly curved cock.

God, he would be able to hit every spot so well.

"Guide him, love." He let her feel around his already rock hard cock, jerking him a little, and he loved the way she was too embarrassed to look down at what she was doing. It was adorable.

"Guide him...? I don't know how." She whispered, glaring down for a second as he gave her a hint, pressing his tip softly against her tight entrance.

It made her bite her lip, nervous at the sight of him so close to her dripping pussy.

"Right there, guide him in ketta." He whispered in her ear, kissing her neck afterwards while she slowly guided him inside of her tight entrance.

Harald could feel her body protest by the unfamiliar stretch, but he could also tell she wanted this so badly by the way her walls were clenching and throbbing around his big cock.

Slowly, he moved his hips forward into hers, feeling her pussy trying to adjust to just his thick tip as she closed her eyes.

"How are you feeling, love?"

"Wonderful, strange, a slight sting as well perhaps?" She named everything she was experiencing so he could understand what she was feeling and his large hands rubbed her hips to help her body relax again.

"It'll feel like Valhalla soon." He groaned deeply, his cock sinking deeper inside of her while she nuzzled his neck. "And the more we do this, sæta, the better it'll feel for her."

"Really~?" She smiled and gasped when Harald repositioned her hips to a different angle that made his cock go deeper.

"Yes~ and if the gods are in our favor, we might be granted lots of children as well." He wrapped one of his arms around her arched back to keep her that way while he thrusted a bit faster, the curve of his cock brushing against her spot perfectly over and over again.

"I'd love to have your children one day." She moaned softly, tightening her walls around him.

"I know you do." He smirked and reached down between their sweating bodies, fingertips stroking that small bundle of nerves to help send her over the edge. "It's alright, ketta~ let it go and give me what I want so I can give you my seed and have you bear my children."

Her body began to shake by his words and she couldn't suppress her loud moans anymore. This feeling, the feeling that was so right and wrong at the same time was just too enjoyable.

She and her body couldn't take much more of it honestly.

Inhaling deeply, the woman gave into the strange yet delightful feeling and finally the knot of pleasure exploded, the wonderful feelings coursing through her entire body as she clung to her husband.

"Harald~ oh gods." She smiled and panted, feeling his cock twitch against her spot before he came deep inside of her and coated her tight walls with his seed.

"You felt so perfect, my queen." He buried his face on the crook of her neck, leaving short loving kisses there while he slowly thrusted his cum deeper into her.

"So what now, my king?" She spoke softly not to interrupt the peace they both felt and he carefully pulled out.

"We go back to the feast and make sure we do this again at the end of our wedding~ hoping my seed will take soon." He smiled and gently helped her stand up so he could redress her.

[blorbocedes]

hiya! I've recently returned back to tumblr and somehow seemed to have remembered your name. I've dearly missed you!!! The last time i was on here, the zendaya throuple movie had been released, and I remember you writing the most magnificent lewis and nico fic, which was so gut-wrenching and honestly so tantalisingly hot. I no longer dabble in ao3 but was wondering if you had any published book suggestions/reading recs of similar writing style. Your writing had been (still is if you're currently writing) so so so mesmerising, so my thought process is that you must've read a tonne of books to get to such a wonderfully expressive and creative writing style.

If it isn't too much of an ask, do you by any chance have book recommendations? Preferably women centric or anything in general.

Thank you!! Hugs and kisses are being sent your way. I'm so happy I've rediscovered you again!! AND ALSO MAX VERSTAPPEN IS A 4 TIME WORLD CHAMPION

💞💞💞

(apologies for any spelling error 😅)

hiii first of all thank you so much for the kind message 🥹🥹🥹 welcome back!

secondly unfortunately all I do is read nonfiction that's related to my degree.

HOWEVER. I asked two women @karlmarxverstappen and @gayferrari who DO read and I trust their taste implicitly, and I asked them for reccs on women centric books that are fun and fucked up because that's how I'd describe my style and here's the reccs:

Tampa by alissa nutting, bunny by mona awad, all is well by mona awad, casandra at the wedding by Dorothy Baker, animal by lisa Tadeo, big swiss by jen beagin, boy parts by Eliza clarke

Young adult cosy read about creepy faeries — <https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18298890-cuckoo-song>

victorian England version of The Handmaiden (book it's based on) <https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/8913370-fingersmith>

LESBIAN NECROMANCERS IN SPACE <https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/52057544-gideon-the-ninth>

thriller by the author of gone girl which I also rec <https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18045891-sharp-objects>

not fucked up but a women centric comfort read <https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32075853-erotic-stories-for-punjabi-widows>

creepy novelette :3 <https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/89724.We_Have_Always_Lived_in_the_Castle>

English Victorian missionaries bring jesus christ to the fae world it goes badly also there's (spoiler) ||incest|| <https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34643773-under-the-pendulum-sun>

girl tries to get a MFA and it's a literal horror show <https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/42732512-bunny>

my best friend's exorcism <https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/41015038-my-best-friend-s-exorcism>

straight up horror but very well written I LOVE the protag <https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/55713043-my-heart-is-a-chainsaw>

also if u do romance this is my romance entry point, it's not fucked up but the main character is over 30 which is very rare in romance <https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/51589631-last-tang-standing>

[genshin-squabbles-and-wobbles]

i've seen your yandere scenario the one with breaking the reader, i absolutely loved it - i was wondering if you can do the same scenario except it's yandere scaramouche, xiao, and cyno?

Yes I can my dear! However I already wrote for Yandere Scaramocuhe, and Cyno here. Please enjoy. But I can do Xiao. :)

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°

Scenario: i would like to request a yandere scenario but oh no it's really really sad. if you can, i would want to see yandere kazuha, childe, tighnari like regretting breaking reader. like reader keeps getting hurt by the yanderes until they feel nothing and at first the yanderes didn't mind it thinking they were obeying them but then they start feeling guilty for breaking you because now you aren't expressing any emotions, no matter what they do.

all in all, very very angst at the end

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••° Part 1: Here Part 2: Here Trigger Warning: Mild non consensual Sexual content, neglect, and starvation

Xiao ─── °∘❉∘° ────── °∘❉∘° ────── °∘❉∘° ───

As the Yaksha stared down at you in bed, he looks at you. He looks at your blank face, your blank eyes, your blank emotions. Was it too much to ask to protect you? He wanted to protect you, very badly. You were one of the rare good things to happen to him ever since he lost his family to their Karmic debt. Morax and You were all he had left. Was it too much to ask to be protective of you? Lock you in his hotel room in Wangshu inn? Feeding you almond tofu none stop? However, Xiao never knew how to take care of a human being, after all he is an adepti, he never took the effort to learn about humans and how they function. Of course they interest him, but not enough to learn how to take care of them. Hence, what lead to your neglected, and skinny state, as he never knew how to take care of you, properly. However, he couldn't trust anything. The food you ate could have been poisoned. The paths you took could have been dangerous and deadly...despite you being one of the top adventures in the adventure guild. Xiao looked down at your dead face, yet alive, skinny and malnourished. Was it too much to have a taste of you right now? As he tasted sweetness for the first time when he kissed you. He was different from Almond Tofu but he could taste it. Xiao gently adjusted your hair and clothes and placed his hand on your face. "Hey...can you please at least talk to me, so I know you are okay? It is rude to ignore me like this." Nothing, silence. He tried to invoke some reaction out of you by lifting one of your legs up, and gently pressed his hot tongue on your thigh and dragged it all the way up to your knee. You still tasted sweet. Oh so very sweet to him. He pulled away as all he saw was a blank face and a miserable appearance. Xiao sighed in frustration. "I don’t get it! I provided everything I can for you! What are you just laying there!?" He started to tear up in frustration. He remembered how fierce you were, how happy you were fighting monsters, how cheerful you were at taverns and people. He remembered how you protected him time and time again and how much you enjoyed it. Immediately, as he watched his hot tears drop on your face, he started to apologize to archons, gods, his dead family, his loyal master Rex Lapis. "I'm sorry...its my fault...it's my fault...I should...I should..." He mumbled and started to cry more. It was his fault, all of it. Regret plagued his mind, as his karmic debt was about to eat him alive. This time, he couldn’t take it anymore. He rather die than let his karmic debt over take him. He pressed a gentle kiss on your cheek, and went on his knees. He aimed his marble jade staff to his chest, and plunged it deep, past his hundred years of life. All you heard was a thud. Then silence.

[ephedrathirsts]

Teach me

Synopsis: Your best friend asks you to take his virginity. As the both of you spend more time intimately together you are forced to acknowledge your feelings for one another.

Contains: idiots in love trope, friends to lovers trope, lovers in denial, one-bed trope, crack and sarcasm, mutual pining, eventual smut, fluff, afab reader, eventual angst, anger issues

Pairings: Hunter Sylvester! x afab! reader

Word count: 4100

Parts: I, II

 You were preparing for bed, cleaning off the makeup you had put on for hours, feeling a little embarrassed. You had been stood up. It wasn’t the end of the world but it was a little humiliating. You shaved for absolutely nothing, put on a matching pair of bra and panties, wore one of your favorite gowns. You didn’t ' have game' per se but you weren’t doing bad either. At least you thought you weren’t.

 You decided to stop your playlist and embrace defeat as you heard the sound of rustling leaves and the stomping of boots on the side of your house. That wouldn’t have been him, right? He knew your parents were out of town. There was no reason to go through all this trouble. That’s when a silhouette showed more clearly.

  You freaked out, got to your feet, and locked the window, trying to come up with the most elaborate escape plan on the face of the planet but falling short as your panic clouded your judgment.

  "Let me in, please. I think I scrapped my knee pretty badly." a familiar voice came through.

  You were on edge still, shaking in place as you slowly dragged your arm to open the window.

 Hunter came in with a swift motion, panting heavily, with a manic look on his face. As he collected his breath, he finally saw your expression- you seemed furious, steam coming out the top of your head. You were throwing mental darts, aimed at the boy and shaking your hands furiously.

 "What the hell are you doing here?! In the middle of the night, unannounced! I thought I was going to get murdered."

 "I knew you weren’t going to be asleep so I thought this time was as good as any… wait… are you expecting someone?" his gaze drifted off to your tight-fitting slip dress.

 All of a sudden, he noticed the mood lighting and he remembered not seeing your father’s car parked outside. He felt a little uneasy now but he tried his best not to show it. Maybe him coming to you was a terrible idea after all.

 "Nope.. it’s just me… no one's coming…" you squeaked, not wanting to share more of the story.

 "Ok, good, because I need a favor and I know that this may sound weird and it might make things awkward between us but I trust you so I think you.." you interrupt his nervous spiel with a concerned look on your face.

 "Are you not going to apologize first? You know, for scarring me to death." You replied through gritted teeth.

  "Yes! Of course, how inconsiderate of me. I truly am sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, but it’s an emergency. You are the only one I trust with this. I can’t just not try, the thought of it will haunt me for months on end and I really need this…"

 "Wow, dude, slow down for a minute. You didn't have any of the funny juice again, right? Don’t tell me I have to pee in a cup. I’m not doing it."

 "That was a one-time thing! An honest mistake, if you must know!" He said defensively- "I would never do that willingly.’"

 "Sure thing, buddy." You replied with a smug smile on your face.

 "What was so important it warranted you climbing up my window during the witching hour?" You said playfully, trying to calm him down.

 "So... I've been thinking a lot about the future and how we have less than a year of high school left and... You know I'm high in demand and everything but.." He blabbered on.

  "It's ok, I can help you pick out a collage. I am the wisest out of your friends after all. You can trust me, buddy." You declared knowingly

 "No, fuck that. I'm not going to college." He brushed it off.

 "Nope, you definitely are!" You demanded.

 "No, not a chance that's happening." He replied, sounding a little distracted.

 "Ok, we will continue this conversation later. You are going, by the way, but let's not get sidetracked. Tell me what's on your mind."

  Hunter started blushing for a minute, uncertain of how to express himself.

 "You know how last year you and Kevin were making fun of me for being a virgin.." he explained hastily.

  "Yeah, I'm so sorry for that. It was funny as fuck but there is no shame in being a virgin. I mean, I was one up until five months ago." You confessed.

  Hunter's cheeks became even rosier, embarrassment written on his face.

 "The thing is… I still am one.." He blurted out

 "Oh? So do you need me to hook you up with someone? I guess I could make a good wingwoman, I can look around, do a little research." You got all serious and concentrated, lost in thought.

  "Puff, no. I'm the singer of a semi-successful metal band and like I previously mentioned I am high in demand." Hunter grinned proudly.

 "Ok then, I don't understand the issue."

 "Look, when I do decide to pursue any of my many.. and I mean many groupies.."

  "Uhuh.." You dozed, rolling your eyes at him.

 "I want to be certain of what I'm doing. I have a reputation to uphold. I'm not a washed-up indie singer or something. I am supposed to be a master in the arts of sex.." He rambled.

  "Ok, I'm losing you. Stop stretching out the conversation and get to your actual point." You chirped a little annoyed.

 "I want you to teach me." He spat out.

 "You want me to take your virginity?" You asked a bit taken aback.

 "Nope, I want you to teach me. You know how when you practice something, you get better at it? I have been playing the guitar for years and that's how I built upon my skill." He explained, hoping you were paying attention and reading carefully between the lines.

  "I don't catch your drift."

  Hunter's face dropped. Guess he had to spell it out for you.

 "I don't want you to take my virginity and then never do it again. I won't learn anything from just one lesson. I need a proper course. Maybe like a month-long or something. I'm willing to do whatever you want if you agree. And if you don't and try to tell anyone about this interaction, I will deny everything I said up until this point so it will be your word against mine and..."

 "Ok, ok mister 'Law and order'. Slow your horses. I'm not going to tell anyone."

  A rush of relief washed over Hunter's face.

 "So basically you want me to have sex with you in the pursuit of learning..?"

  "Yup, exactly."

 "Like scheduled, strictly mechanical. Just so you learn the woodwork?" You said a bit confused.

  "No, of course not. What's the point in that? In real life, people don't show up and have sex out of nowhere. This isn't porn. I want to do the entire thing right- foreplay, intensity, passion, mood lighting, music, etc. I'm not about to half-ass it." He said confidently.

 "And why do you want to do it with me?"

 "I know you, I trust you and you are pleasing to the eye. That way I won't feel so weird or embarrassed."

  " 'Pleasing to the eye', don't be busting out the compliments just yet, you don't want to make me all flustered and shit." You said sarcastically.

  "Ok, I'm sorry. That sounded douche-y. What I meant to say is you’re hot and you are basically the only person that matches my energy."

 "Yeah.. that sounds wayy less douche-y," You replied, unamused.

 "I'm sorry, I'm having a pretty hard time here. If you think of a more appropriate way of phrasing it, please do let me know." Hunter retorted a bit defensively.

  "This is such a bad idea, dude. It can go off the rails, you know."

  "Can't you help a desperate friend out? Please, I really need this." Hunter pleaded, looking like a sad puppy.

  You had to think for a second. This was such a bad idea. For one it could ruin the friendship, make things between you two uncomfortable, but you could see the strained expression on his face. You couldn’t just leave him hanging. Maybe he was going to back down, change his mind if you were to actually agree, so against your better judgment you went along with it.

 "God, good thing I feel bad for you after this pathetic pitch you tried to sell me. Guess I'm not as wise.. uh.. sure I will do it, but I have to warn you that I do have some ground rules, some extremely important 'Do's' and 'Don't's'..."

 Hunter got all excited and giddy after hearing you that he cut you off mid-sentence. "You will do it! Fuck yeah, thank youu! You are truly the best!" He said and then quickly kissed your cheek.

 "I will be considerate of your 'Do's' and 'Don't's' and make sure to make you feel as comfortable as possible." He said matter of factly while saluting you and climbing back out of your window.

 "I'm already regretting this." You croaked out to yourself.

 Hunter was sitting on your bed, propped up on his elbows with a notebook in front of him and a pen sticking out of his mouth while you were going on your merry rant.

 "Don't overdo it with the dirty talk. Don't name any of my body parts. Don't give me a nickname. Don't call me 'mommy' and don't expect me to call you 'daddy', I'm not into it. Don't grab my neck out of nowhere. You can't just go around choking me unannounced!" You scolded.

 "So if I announce myself I can choke you?" Hunter's eyebrows raised playfully.

 "We'll see about that.. Don't call me a 'good girl' or whatever. It makes me feel weird. Don't tear any of my clothes, I'm pretty attached to them. Don't touch my feet. Ass area is off-limits! I'm not kidding, don't slap it, care about it, try to put something up it, don't even acknowledge its existence!"

 Hunter scribbled something in his notebook, highlighted it, and mouthed "no ass".

 "Is this all? Or are there more 'Don't's'?"

  "I guess there are but they will come up with time depending on the situation. Communication is key after all."

 "Ok, what are the 'Do's' then?"

 "A lot of attention on the neck, hips, and thigh areas. Reciprocal scratching is encouraged. The same applies to light hair pulling, biting, and slapping at times..."

  "Wait, slapping?" Hunter got a little alarmed.

  "I'm a very passionate person. I'm not only passive-aggressive. I can also be actively aggressive and sex is a productive way to channel it, ya know." You answered coyly

 Hunter wrote down "Surprisingly both a sadist and a masochist."

 "I like attention, I like eye contact, I like feeling like a gem. Like I'm God-sent or something. I know how it sounds but I'm being honest, it turns me on. That probably has something to do with my self-esteem issues.. well yet another thing to bring up with my therapist" you drifted off.

 "The fact you like to be validated during sex?" Hunter chuckled.

  "Yeah.. maybe.. maybe not." You said after sifting the thought through your brain.

 "I can be mean during sex, by the way, sometimes I can get nasty." You warned.

  "Only during sex?" Hunter teased and you hit his shoulder.

 "Oh yeah, teasing is a must! I both hate it and love it so much. Banter is extremely erotic when done right and it has to be incorporated."

 Hunter circled "probably has anger issues and gets her panties wet by arguing"

 "That's kind of a mischaracterization of what I said but yeah, sure.."

 "It's ok, I have anger issues too. I get you, girl." He put his hand on your shoulder while mock empathizing with you.

 "Don't ever say that again."

 "Ok, putting it in the 'Don't's' section right after the ass stuff." He said all knowingly.

  "Oh God, how am I supposed to keep going when you’re not taking anything seriously and acting like such a little brat?"

 "Don't get all worked up now babe, we haven't even taken our clothes off." Hunter coughed out and winked at you.

  You went on without paying him much attention.

 "I also like to take things slow. But that mostly happens when I have developed feelings for the person. Wanting to be in the moment with them."

 "So you were the one half-assing sex?"

 "Wait, what? I beg your pardon!" You screeched, offended at his suggestion.

 "It is all about being in the moment. If it isn't clicking you simply don't go through with it. But sex is all about some basic type of connection between people. It's not only about feelings, it's about respect, it's about dignity. Getting to know someone more intimately, not only for your pleasure." Hunter explained all focused and mentor-like.

 "If you know all of this already, what do you need me for?"

 "You can't just go around the world with knowing stuff you can’t put to use," Hunter answered like he had thought about it for a long time.

 You were quite impressed with him. You had known him for a very long time and you were already aware he wasn't showing everything there was to him to others. Yes, he could be impulsive and childlike, a pain in the ass, and a cocky son of a bitch but he was always strangely emotionally Intelligent at times, and that surprised you. Guess therapy was working for him, huh?

  "So, is that the end of our lesson for today?"

  "I think so. It's good that the two of us learned some new information today." You smiled, feeling proud of your student.

 "Yeah, I now know not to call you 'mommy'. It's information that will shape me for the years to come." He said sarcastically.

 "Oh, shut up asshole. You asked for this, remember?" You retorted

 "And you were the one that strongly encourages teasing, weren't you." He whispered huskily as he leveled with your face and kissed you, slowly and tentatively. Your cheeks flushed with shock. He opened his eyes to look at you and chuckled softly.

 "May I kiss you again?" He pleaded. Your breath caught in your throat. You did agree to this, yes, but there was still some disbelief there.

 "He'll probably drop it. He doesn't mean it seriously. It won't come to anything physical, I'm sure of it..." you had already convinced yourself.

 You didn't expect anything to actually... Well, happen. But he was only asking for a kiss and he looked like such a sad little puppy, there was no denying him.

  "Yes.." you gulped. "You may kiss me." You nervously shift your gaze from his eyes to his lips.

   As if he was reading your mind he replied: "Don't worry, I'm anxious too."

   And then it was all silence as he closed the distance between you, his lips gently caressing yours. He was holding you tight- one hand on the small of your back and the other on your cheek as he slowly deepened the kiss. He was hesitant with his movements but was trying to impress you. With his tongue fully in your mouth, engulfing you steadily. Savoring every little bit, every time you brushed your fingers through his hair, every time you pressed your palms against his chest or tickled the sides of his face with your fingertips.

 He held you like you were made of porcelain, not because he was afraid of you breaking but of you changing your mind, your touch being too infectious to let go of.

 Both of you parted to catch your breath and Hunter smiled at you sheepishly, held up your arm to his face, and planted a quick peck on the back of it.

 "That was quite the kiss."

 "Yeah.. it definitely was." You agreed, flustered, gazing into his eyes.

 You were sitting on Hunter's bed, trying your best to focus on doing your homework while Skullflower was practicing. They were getting pretty good, their sound coming off as more refined and confident. Hunter had worked hard on their debut album to the point that even the demos of their songs were professional.

He was very serious when it came to his craft. You could see it now- how particular he was about the acoustics, how much emotion he put in while he sang, and how concentrated he was while strumming on his guitar. He was truly in his element while playing and you could see all of this passion radiating from him. He was in the zone, huffing, and sweating, looking down at the strings and plucking them one by one with his fingers.

 Your body tensed at the sight, his long hair swishing, complementing the sharpness and edges of his face. And his eyes looked so.. uh... so... what were you thinking about?! Snap out of it! You were doing homework; you weren't drooling over your best friend. That's nonsense!

 You were so focused on expelling all of the non-platonic thoughts out of your head that you barely even noticed that the band had stopped playing and Kevin and Emily were nowhere to be seen.

 "Are you done with your homework?"  Hunter asked while putting away his guitar.

 "Yeah, you could say so. I made a lot of progress." You answered embarrassedly.

 "That's good, hard work should be rewarded," Hunter whispered as he started coming close to you.

  "Yeah. I should treat myself to desert or something." You fidgeted with your fingers and avoided his gaze.

 "I was thinking of something more along the lines of this." He was in front of you now, grabbing your cheeks with both of his hands and kissing you passionately. He then broke away and started gently stroking your hair and playing with the ends.

 "You looked pretty all concentrated and serious." He confessed. "But I think it's time for you to take a little break and relax."

 "I'm not that tired." You gulped impulsively.

 "Good, me neither." He put his hands on your waist and kissed you again so drawn out that it made you weak. It took everything out of you not to whimper at the feeling. If you were none the wiser you would have confused the feeling in your stomach for butterflies, but there was no way Hunter could be causing such a reaction. Definitely not.

 "Do you want to hang out, watch a movie, or something?" He suggested nervously.

  "Yea-yeah... Sure..."

  "Oh wait, I know what you need!" He whispered and wiggled his eyebrows.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck, what was he going to do? That was too much. Your heart was racing and you could feel how increasingly anxious you were getting.

 As your mind was spiraling, he put on TLC and turned to you.

 "Pick your poison. I'm gonna order junk food and we can make fun of whatever show you want " You melted. He knew you so well. Just because you were swapping DNA samples with each other now didn't mean he didn't remember how it was before. He got you.

  Hunter could sense you were a little tense and he didn't want to put you off. He wanted you to remember what your relationship was all about- you two goofing off, being idiots, being assholes to others and to each other sometimes but still carrying deep care and understanding for one another.

 "That sounds amazing, but it's getting kind of late. I need to go home." You whispered, regret washing over you.

 "You can stay over, you know? It's not a school night and for some bizarre reason, your parents are chill with me. Come on captain Crunch, please stay." He looked a little desperate and sad. He wanted you here. He needed you to stay.

  "One time I choke on cereal and have it come out of my nose and I never get to hear the end of it, huh?" You answered, acting as if you were upset. "But yeah, ok, I will stay over."

 Come to think of it maybe that was exactly what you needed- to remind yourself of what your relationship with Hunter was so you stopped acting as if you had a crush on him, because one thing was for certain- you didn't, nope.

 The two of you ate pizza as you laughed at the terrible attempts at flirting made by some poor soul on 90-day fiancé.

 "Don't worry about it, beautiful. When we get together, I will buy you an ass." Ok, not such a poor soul after all.

 "Boo, who the fuck would actually say that?" You screamed at the TV.

 "She is only in on it because she wants to get a green card, you can't get too mad at the guy," Hunter explained.

 "Are you defending him?!" You replied dumbfounded by his words.

 "No, fuck no. The dude is a total tool." Hunter snickered.

 "Good, I was getting worried for a second there."

Hunter held up one of his hands to his chest and declared: "Don't worry sweetheart, I would never even dare to mention your ass." He laughed and you laughed as well, punching his shoulder lightly.

 "Oh, fuck off." You spat out, still unable to stop yourself from giggling."I think it's time I call it a night. I'm pretty tired. Toss me one of your tees and some sheets so I can make the sofa..."  Hunter interrupted you.

"What are you saying, you're sleeping with me. I can’t have you sleeping on the sofa. We have done this so many times before, there's plenty of space for the both of us."

 "I know.. but it hasn’t happened in such a long time." The nerves were returning and a flush was creeping up your cheeks.

 "Yeah, that’s true. But you are aware of how comfortable my bed is." He reminded

 You could share a bed with him. I mean it was just Hunter. Good old Hunter- your FRIEND. Nothing more, nothing else. What was the point of making a fuss?

 "Fine, just give me something to wear, please." You said trying to sound a bit annoyed at the situation.

 Hunter gave you one of his band tees. You went to the bathroom to put it on, your toothbrush still being there from previous sleepovers. But was this a sleepover? What if he tried to do something? What if you tried to do something yourself? No, that was nonsense! Why would you, it's not like you desperately wanted to. You can behave yourself!

 You came out of the bathroom wearing only his T-shirt and a pair of underwear.

 "I know how you like to sleep on the left side but my phone is charging on the bedside table and I'll need to switch the do not disturb mode on at some point so..." He froze as you came into view, looking extremely casual and comfy with your hair down and his shirt adorning your body, ending just at the beginning of your thighs.

 "Yeah, that's ok" you whispered.

  Was he blushing? He couldn't be, right? There was no way you could make him this shy.

 You climbed into bed with him. He also had a shirt on and you couldn’t tell whether he was wearing anything underneath but as your leg unintentionally brushed over his you knew for a fact, he was also only wearing his boxers.

 "I'm sorry," you said coyly.

  "It's alright." He replied.

 To the both of your surprise, you put your hands on his face, pulling him towards you, and kissed him gently. He was so shocked he had his eyes open for a bit, but as the initial feeling warn off, he wrapped around you with both of his arms and held your chest close to his as his tongue slowly came into your mouth. Your legs were tangling between his, and without even thinking of it your grip landed on his shoulders as you tried kissing him harder, more passionately.

 You broke away to catch your breaths, with your head laying on his chest. He caressed your hair and planted a kiss on the top of your head while lacing his fingers through yours. Your heart was racing and you could hear his was too. You liked it, how comfortable you felt in his embrace. How well you fit around him.

You reached up to lightly stroke his face and kiss his cheek. "Goodnight, Hunter’’, you put his hand on your waist and turned on your side, making him spoon you.

 "Goodnight." He whispered tentatively into your ear.

[hkevisvlsvso]

Okay idk how to post these Deon things but if u haven't read the second part(this is 3rd) it's there under this post :3

------------------------☆☆☆------------------------

I sat with Deniz on the landfill, on the hood of Hadschi's car. The evening was already getting dark, and I could just make out the familiar shape of Teufelstopf in the distance. How could I even consider leaving it?! And my friends. And Deniz. He sat next to me and looked into the dark blue distance. He was really cute.

At first I hated him. Or at least I thought I did. Although in a way, when I thought about it afterwards, I knew I always liked him. He was handsome and sweet at the same time, funny and just so carelessly imperfectly perfect. He was the only one who wasn't afraid of my emotional outbursts, expressed his own opinion and spoke against me. Of course, Vanessa wasn't afraid to say anything to me either, but the difference between her and Deniz was that Deniz treated me like a normal person even when I'm mad at him. Made me feel like I wasn't special, in a good way or a bad way. Vanessa would yell at me and probably stir things up and dramatize the thing for the whole team and bark at me for whatever reason, but Deniz would keep his usual cool and throw in a couple of sarcastic comments every chance I got until my anger subsided because I just couldn't help but like him.

Even though it was exhausting as hell, I couldn't help it. I liked Deniz even though he was annoying at times, or maybe because of that.

"Sorry," I said quietly. Wow, well that felt weird. Though in a way quite good. At least I've done it now.

Deniz looked at me with exaggerated surprise. Then his expression melted into a smile.

"from what?" he asked. "You just found the last skull for us!"

Damn. He forgives me immediately. It made me feel selfish for never apologizing. They were all used to it by now.

"just shut up, I'm trying to talk now. It's hard for me too," I said, unintentionally angry. Deniz looked me in the eye in a way that didn't seem awkward. He smiled and I got the feeling he still wasn't taking this seriously.

"Yeah, I know, I was really shitty and selfish when I left. I don't know what I was thinking then. So", I breathed, "I'm sorry. I'm kinda shit person or something like that".

I looked away, annonyed. This was definitely not my thing. And Deniz still looked at me with such a strainingly good-looking and amused confusion. He put his hand on my shoulder. I tried to keep the vibration from the touch inside me. I felt his hand, cooled by the night air, through my coat. I thought that everything would be fine now, that it couldn't get any worse, but then he started talking.

"Leon," she said in a steady voice, as if this were something serious, "you're not a shit person. I—"

I'll never know what he would have answered, because I did something completely senseless.

I kissed him.

It happened quickly. Or I don't know about that speed. I guess it just happened. I just grabbed Deniz's shirt by the collar and pulled him closer much harder than I had thought (though I hadn't thought at all).

As soon as I realized our lips were touching, I blushed furiously and pushed Deniz away. No. No!!! I hadn't just done that!! What the hell did I do that for!!??!?

"No..damn, sorry," I cried out in distress. What... what...

Deniz laughed. He tilted his head back a bit and laughed as if that was about the funniest thing he'd ever seen me do. I furrowed my eyebrows.

"What are you laughing at?" I asked indignantly. Deniz really was annoying.

Gradually Deniz's laughter faded and he looked at me with a smile. His eyes... those sparks of light that appeared from somewhere, that told of amusement, of that lovable mischief that I had seen since our first glance (at first I had thought it was just a bad thing) and maybe, hopefully, of something else.

I spanked him badly. That made his smile widen a little more. In such a situation, what else can you think about other than how cute he is?!

"Do It Again"

Nope. No. What. The. Hell. Is. Happening. Here.

Deniz looks at me, and with his gaze forces me to look at him too. I notice my mouth hanging open in confusion when Deniz raises his right hand and gently closes it by bringing my chin back up on the side of his index finger. His finger is soft and cool. I blushed again, just as I had gotten my previous blush just about gone. Deniz put his hand on mine. Maybe by accident, maybe not...

I guess Deniz noticed my expression because he got serious.

"Leon," he said, a smile in his voice. "I like you too, and it would be really nice if you kissed me again." He said it slowly, a little tentatively, but with absolute certainty.

"Uhhhhh..."

"Pleaaase," he said with exaggerated pleading. That made me laugh. It felt good to laugh in such a situation. Maybe because it made everything feel lighter, or maybe just because it gave me a momentary excuse to do nothing else.

I turned my gaze to my feet, which are resting falsely casually on the rusty hood.

"...I can't..." I said in a small voice.

I didn't look at Deniz, but I saw in my mind how he was grinning challengingly.

"Don't you dare?" he asked in a mischievous voice. I turned towards him.

"Say. That. Again."

"Don't you dare?" Deniz repeated obediently, elated.

"Ofcourse I dare."

"Prove it."

Long silence. How would I even do that?! I had never kissed anyone! Hell, I didn't even see anyone kiss anyone!! How should I-

"I can do that too if you don't dare," Deniz said with a smile. I was already closer to him than I had ever been to anyone. He looked me in the eye defiantly.

"Absolutely not!"

"Well, do it then."

"I really do hate you." It was true.

Then I kissed him.

My hands were on his warm cheeks and his soft lips were on my lips and I felt his cool hands in my hair and I realized that we were really kissing now and that it was really wonderful for me so wonderful that I didn't think anything else but wow, Deniz's lips are on mine.

And then it was over. Deniz looked at me with a smile, and for once he looked confused too.

"Wow," he said quietly, "you really did it."

This time it was my turn to smile smugly.

"Of course I did," I said as if it was obvious, when it really wasn't. "You didn't believe it, did you?"

Deniz just slowly shook his head and then rested it on my shoulder. Help. What should I do now?! However, I rested my head on his soft hair and realized with relief that it was exactly what I was supposed to do.

"I really didn't believe it," Deniz said, and I could hear his smirk in his voice. I pushed him away, annoyed, but I didn't back away as he gave me a quick kiss on the cheek.

"You are a burden"

"But you still wanted to kiss me?"

"I absolutely didn't!!"

"Oh really? What about that recent-"

"Shut up you jerk"

"HANDSOME jerk..."

"Just shut up please!!"

"No I won't! You love me"

"Shut the fuck up now"

------------------------☆☆☆------------------------

...Google translator english......

[projectbluearcadia]

NSFW | Minors DNI Wordcount - 991

Les lèvres blanches

Sometimes I really wish Lucifer was real for no other reason than to A) slap me hard in the face (non-sexually) and B) actually confiscate my laptop and my phone. CW: Cumshots (face, mouth); humiliation/degradation; body worship; rough treatment. It's pronounced "Lay LEV-ruh blAUNsh." You're welcome for the free and unnecessary French lesson.

"...what the hell is this?" is Lucifer's first remark, disheveled in his human-world clothes as he leans on my bedroom door, flashing his D.D.D. screen at me. It's currently fixed on his chat with me, and although I can't read it, I feel some relief that he just wanted to to talk in person rather than being annoyed and leaving me on seen.

"Was it too much?" I ask shyly. "I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable-"

"Uncomfortable?!" Lucifer cuts me off, his D.D.D. shaking in his hand as he makes quick strides towards me. "Do you have any idea how fucking turned on I am right now?" I feel my face warm as a jolt of arousal seeps into my loins.

"...sorry?" I apologize, and Lucifer groans, taking his spectacles off and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Were you still in public? I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"No, I was in my hotel room," he grumbles. "Have you been holding back on me?"

"...I think I've just gotten a lot more perverted since we started having sex." Lucifer groans at my words, covering his face.

"Really?" he asks sarcastically. "Because the timid woman who blushed at the slightest provocative comment directed at her certainly told me that she wanted to eat my sperm as part of her well-balanced breakfast Oh, and she definitely described in excruciating detail about how badly she wanted me to cockwarm her mouth as a reward."

I shuffle, embarrassed, but Lucifer isn't finished as he pulls closer to me, setting his hands on either side of my thighs.

"And let's not forget how she absolutely demanded that I cum on her face, along with the rest of the body if she's naked."

I clear my throat, pulling at my collar before I shyly reply, "Well, maybe I've been feeling really submissive lately, since you've been gone..."

"Well, I'm here now," he growls, leaning forward to nip my ear. "So you'd better take responsibility and suck me off until I'm satisfied." My stomach jumps, and I swallow nervously.

"Now?" I ask stupidly, and Lucifer grabs my hand and lays it over his pants. I nearly mewl as his length twitches against my hand.

"Yes, now. I want you on your knees right now." And I can do nothing else but stumble off my bed to lean up towards him on my knees as he practically throws his belt against the wall. "Stick out your tongue." Zip. I barely have the time to register the precum stain on his underwear before he's pushing his cock into my mouth, gripping my hair to control me better.

Lucifer normally lets me go at my own pace, but not this time. This time, he's much closer to face-fucking me, simply using me for his pleasure. His expression breaks in what must be less than a minute, his hot, bitter semen coats my mouth as his cock leaves, still trickling as he presses his tip against my lips. I can feel small beads of it dripping off my lip.

"Don't swallow until I tell you to," he rumbles, pulling my hair harder as he prods my mouth back open with the head of his length. "Savor it, since you love that taste so much." He grins at me, and I whimper, squeezing my legs closed as arousal pools in my underwear. "You like it rough, don't you, slut?"

"Nmnngg," I groaned in half-pleasure, half-pain as he shoved the rest of his dick back inside my mouth, letting me have only a moment of calm before he went back to using my mouth as his toy. Tears formed at the corner of my eyes, but I was moaning a little too hard onto him for them to be solely out of discomfort.

"Does it feel that good, horny girl?" he rumbles. "Is this what you wanted while I was gone? Just wanted to be used for my pleasure? Moan if your answer is 'yes'." I moaned, as loud as I could, and that nearly sent Lucifer straight over the edge. "What was it you texted me? 'I want to wear your cum on my face in the house?' Does that sound right, honey?" Word for word.

Of course, I can't reply, so I just moan onto him again, sending him trembling and tensing up. Ready to fulfill my lewd fantasy.

"Close your eyes right now," he says shakily, and no sooner have I done it than do I feel the scalding strings of his seed over the skin of my face. I feel his thumb tenderly brush some off my eyebrow before he smears it onto my cheek. "Open your mouth wide."

The moment I do, he pulls on my tongue, dragging it out of my mouth before he softly chuckles.

"You didn't swallow any. Since you've been such a good girl, I'll let you enjoy your treat. Look at me and lick it clean before you swallow everything."

"L-Lucifer..." I whisper finally, and he soothes my scalp where he pulled with his iron grip. Faintly, I realize the door is open, and my shame mounts as I see flickers of different colored hair getting in close to the gap. At that angle, they'd be able to get a great look at me.

"Oh, I know... you don't even know how to express how grateful you are to taste my seed," he purrs, and I twitch uncomfortably; I just know my arousal is starting to leak through my underwear. "I imagine you can't even express how thankful you are that you're even allowed to suck my cock. It's okay; I can be generous, even to dirty sluts like you."

"Fuck," I whisper.

"Come on, honey. Clean me up and take your clothes off. There's still plenty of places I need to cover." He tapped my cheek with his cock. "Because that's what you wanted. I hope you're prepared."