#dark shadow thinks the biting is just as romantic as kissing~

[jackdaniel69nice]

Dark Shadow don’t tease him like that XD

[futureplayboibunnie]

Spiderman Kiss

Miguel O’Hara x fem! black cat! reader

- i wanted to write a little fluffy, very flirty upside down romantic rainy spiderman kiss w miguel just because. black cat is in almost every spiderman story and i really wanted to include that for this one cause she’s a badass. just a cute little blurb to get me out out of my writing slump, i was thinking of making a part 2 cause lawd it’s steamy. (yeah i did make a part 2 im just too lazy to link it😔)

warnings: there is some dirty stuff, lil bit filthy but just a lil bit (i’m the worst) streamy sloppy makeout but overall just some romance for y’all.

You were walking on the damp, cold streets of New York, the soft pitter-patter of rain colliding with your umbrella as your sad eyes were glassy, street lamp lit. The neon buzzing and humming a little in the air as the dark clouds rolled over your head, promising heavier rain in the next few hours. Your boots were fitting for the autumn chill, your little black dress and a mid-length trenchcoat made you look like a detective from a shitty 50s novel, but it was fitting. It felt…romantic. As you walked down the street you caught yourself smiling at nothing. Well, not 'nothing' per se.

Spiderman.

Miguel O'Hara.

The self-appointed leader of the infamous Spider Society, aptly remembered as the Spider with the stick up his ass and a temper akin to that of a raging bull being flagged down by a red tarp. He had been on your coattails for months now. The Black Cat. The thief. One wrong-manicured finger or one slip of that vulgar tongue could end in you being an anomaly, which is a bigger problem than just a petty thief. Miguel wasn't from your universe but he had been watching you from afar...just to keep a watchful eye on you, making sure you were behaving yourself-which was never the case. What was jarring though is that he never stepped in on you making your own mess, he just surveilled you. You never seemed to notice and even if you did, you wouldn't care or give him the time of day.

Miguel watched you stroll confidently as the rain hit his broad shoulders, he had never seen you so casual. He cocked his head to the side to survey you from the rooftop you weren't far away from. You didn't fear the elements, the elements fear you. You boasted a certain naturality, your eyes glassy and the bridge of your nose pinched a pretty pink. Huh, cute. He dismissed the thought as quickly as it came, his eyes narrowed as your hair bounced with each step, lips parting in the process as the cold chilly air started to get to you. See, Black Cat was this force of nature, mysterious, sexed up, a siren seducing her prey into a strangle. Black Cat always gets what she wants, those silk lips ready to bite and those eyes ready to roll back like second nature. Miguel wanted to turn a blind eye to you acting in such a way but he couldn't help but admire your tactics: men would quite literally throw themselves at you, they would beg at your feet, they would lick the ground you'd walk on, they would be desperate for mercy and you didn't even have to touch them to do it. It was something that you just had the ability to do.

But now, here you are. Without the mask. Without the suit. Beaming against the damp night, giving him the opportunity for him to see who you really are when you're not being someone else. Showing the real you when no one else was looking. Miguel had a problem with admitting things. He could never admit when he was wrong, he could never admit the thoughts that buzzed his brain awake at night because no one would understand. You were dangerous, you were a threat. Then why did he want you? Why were you his calling? Why did he catch himself thinking of you?

Miguel was agitated because of it, acting out in the shadows, being more aggressive and hot-headed than usual. He had to do something about it.

Miguel swung to the alley that you were just about to walk past, hanging upside down from the metal fire exit. Thank God for his adhesive feet. Your boots clacked as you walked past the opening. Something blue and red flashed against the corner of your eye and you stopped in your tracks, the breath almost leaving your lungs dry. You couldn't believe it. You scoffed, a smile tugging your lips upwards as your tongue licked at your back teeth.

‘’Late night?’’ Miguel questioned in that low voice of his, you turned your head to face him squinting your eyes slightly. ‘’Couldn't risk getting your hair wet, could you?’’He insulted but there was a playful tone in his voice. Fuck you. You make him playful. He's always fucking serious- the weight of the multiverse rested on his broad shoulders, and here you are not doing anything and he was already letting go. He really needed to check himself.

‘’Take off the mask, couldn't risk getting your hair wet, could you?’’ You walked towards him as he dangled upside down, his massive reached for the flexible fabric of the mask and pulled it off of his insanely structured face.

Lord above, even upside down he looked fucking delicious, his bone structure and dark eyes made an ache form inside of you. A few strands of his raven locks stuck to his forehead due to the rain. He looked dreamy, you couldn't fucking lie about that. You had eyes, after all, you weren't blind.

‘’I think we know each other enough to not be bound by masks.’’ You added completely serious but a smirk played on his lips and his gaze softened just a little but enough for you to notice.

‘’Mask or no mask...’’ Miguel trailed off, unsure of how to finish his sentence.

‘’What are you doing here, Miguel?’’ Your voice was above a whisper as your gaze fell to his lips. This was coming from a case of genuine and undying curiosity- Miguel always has so much to deal with. What made you worth the precious minutes of his day? Well other than being a criminal, today wasn't one of those days though. ‘’You want me to prove to you I can get my hair wet?’’ You closed your umbrella and the droplets of rain started to dampen your hair and slide through the strands.

He couldn't give you an answer, he just cocked his head and looked at you. Fuck, you were beautiful. It was almost scary. You raised your eyebrow at his silence, his face went hard like his thoughts were racing a million miles per hour. And they were, relentlessly. A few burrowed thoughts pierced through the front of his mind.

Miguel let himself be selfish and he let himself wander when it comes to you. He wanted to fuck you, any red-blooded man would. He didn't want you to do all the work though like you usually would expect, he wanted to worship your body and praise you. He wanted to paw at you like an animal. Hold your hips down as he kissed and bit down your thighs, eat at you, devour you, spending hours at a time just tasting you to make you feel good.

Though he did want to take you over his knee for so blatantly misbehaving. Oh, but he did find it impossibly cute though when you were trying to act all smart defying his orders- you'd end up on his knees, ass up face down. Whimpering and on the verge of tears as he had to spank and fuck the disrespect out of you. The dirty thoughts so obviously transferred onto his face, his eyes darkened instinctively as he glared at your lips, he was worried his fangs would pop out unprovoked. The sexual tension between you two was astronomical and difficult to ignore. He didn't want to ignore it anymore, it was affecting him in so many different ways.

‘’You're a million miles away.’’ You bit your lip, eyes going heavy as your perfectly manicured hand tangled in his hair. Fuck, your touch was like magic.

‘’Stop biting your lip. I need to do that instead.’’ Miguel whispered. Your mouth popped open slightly at his words but you definitely knew this was the PG clean version of what was actually going on in his head.

‘’I'm afraid you'll tear them right off.’’ You flirted back, the proximity between you closing with every second.

‘’No, you're not.’’ Miguel's eyebrows furrowed as if he could read your mind. You swallowed the lump in your throat as his response started to shimmy and have an effect all over your body, your eyes widened and you wet your lips with your tongue. A daring invitation.

Miguel closed the gap between you, the rain sliding across his face as he leaned in to capture your lips with his. You expected his kiss to be mean and filled with anger, he was half expecting you to grab his lips and cut them off with a pocket knife for being so callous but no. It was soft. Sensual. Romantic. It felt...meaningful.

You moaned a little and he took it as an opportunity to open your mouth wider to slip his tongue in. It was slow. Messy. Wet. Tongues gliding against tongues, he even nibbled at your lips with his fangs. The strings of saliva kept pulling you back together like an invisible string. It felt so wrong but so good. It was a sloppy kiss turned makeout session, you swear your heart was burrowed inside of your throat as the butterflies in your tummy were starting to turn into hummingbirds. That ache he was making you feel was unmatched. Damn, that's surprising.

‘’Ah.’’ You moaned softly against his lips, finally detaching yourself even though it pained you to do so. Those soft noises shot down all the way to his cock. What was he, a fucking horny teenager? He wanted to hear you moan into his ear. You smiled as you pulled back from his mouth, your tongue darted out and flicked against his lightly protruding fangs, and licked it all the way to his bottom lip. Jesus Christ, you were fucking toying with him. It was like a cat and mouse game with you but in this case, it was cat and spider. You lifted your head to stare into the dark abyss of his eyes and to your surprise they were gleaming. You ruffled your hand into his damp hair messing it up for him as to further prove your point.

‘’I usually hate spiders. Cats eat spiders.’’ You mused.

‘’Do you now?’’ He teased back. ‘’It seems like you don't hate them enough.’’

‘’I like that you've been watching me, Miguel.’’ You exposed that you knew what he's been doing, the man is 6'9 he's not good at hiding things.

‘’Needed to make sure that you've been behaving.’’ He said huskily and it made your knees buckle a little.

"You already know that I haven't been."

"I should punish you.’’ He scolded coldly, he was being deadly serious and you fucking loved it

‘’Swing by my universe whenever bug boy.’’ You pressed a soft kiss to his lips and he was salivating yet again. And bug boy? That's just unforgivable. ‘’Call me.’’ You smirked playfully, giving into your teenage fantasy of a boy falling head over heels for you, wrapping the telephone cord around your finger and twisting it whilst whispering sweet nothings across the line. But you were both far too dangerous to have anything normal.

‘’Maybe I will.’’ He replied in a rich low tone that made your insides melt, he said it like it was a promise.

You shuffled his hair one last time before your eyes fell on his, eyebrows wilting as an expression of sad tenderness. ‘’Goodbye, Miguel.’’ You breathed as if it was the final moment you’d share with him, finally taking the necessary steps back to successfully be back on the main pavement. You opened up your umbrella and then you were gone, Miguel sighed.

‘’Parting is such sweet sorrow.'’

[prettyboykatsuki]

✮ tags ; gn!reader, implied bottom reader, semi-erotic and bloody fingersucking, romance, struggling with intimacy on astarions part, not an established relationship fr, 18+

✮ wc ; 1.6k (literally what in the fucking world)

✮ a/n ; *smacks astarions back* you can fit so much projection onto this thing.

canon divergent i.e. this takes place during act two but reader doesn't sleep w astarion in act one. it's explained in da fic.

The taste of intimacy is acrid.

It's bitter and sharp to the senses. In many ways, he finds it unpleasant. Intolerable. He's lost in thought, primarily caught up in the sensation of your skin pressed against his.

Too much, he decides, this entire affair is proving to be too much.

"You know, there's no need for theatrics," He can almost hear the recoil in his own voice, like hiding away into the shadows when dawn approaches. It's instinctive. "All this...poetry is quite thoughtful but very unnecessary."

Yes. Unnecessary. Somehow it feels violent, though it's anything but. You pull away from him and he winces at your expression - genuine confusion draped across your face. Your skin is hotter than the sun, much warmer than his. You're attractive.

Astarion wonders if he can assess you as beautiful. If he's allowed to use something so flowery.

He can't stop thinking about it. He's played the part of a lover before, so kissing and touching in quiet whispers is not unfamiliar. If that's the sort of affair you wish to have, than Astarion can be apart of it no problem. Whatever makes your desire towards him tangible, whatever you want. The last part he doesn't say out loud, or to himself.

But it was real, just a moment ago, wasn't it? The feeling of your lips on his forehead and the crook of his shoulder was real. The words of affection were real. He was looking for fun, debauchery, pleasure.

This is not that, he decides. He decides, too, that he does not like it.

"I'm sorry?"

"Oh don't play dumb, darling," He says, his throat tightening. It's natural to him, in a way. "Though your heroic romantic gestures are quite something, they're very unnecessary. We both know what we're here for, do we not? A little roughing up is fine."

You pause, and you stare. Your eyes are clear, like the water of the open ocean surrounding the lower city. Even in the darkness, he can see you perfectly. You can see him too, but he can't see himself even in the reflection of your gaze. He wonders if that is some kind of mercy, but remembers quickly that no god has ever shown him such kindness.

And you wouldn't either, or you shouldn't. He convinces himself that its a courtesy, and that this conversation is an attempt at honest between you. He's expecting something different. Maybe a snarky laugh of approval, or a widening set of eyes. Lurid with excitement in all the ways you're okay to defile him.

Most people he's laid with have given him the same. They're pleased with his fluidity. He shows it off like he's water in a beautiful chalice, look at all the forms I can take and adore me.

And yet, you're all but silent. What a terrible conversation to have when he's almost inside of you, he thinks.

"If that is what you desire," You says, your words slow. You then, so softly, draw your thumb over his cheek bone. It takes strength not to recoil. He almost wants to mock you. Wants to bite at the gentle caress of your hand, wants to make you bleed. "But I would've hoped my gestures conveyed my feelings a little better than this."

Shit. Shit.

"Feelings? Have you really taken a page out of the wizards book and written me a poem?"

"It would be easy enough to do," You say, so easily and so naturally - he can't help but show that he is startled. Shaken by the sincerity of every word. Bitter. "If you desire such gestures."

A feeling coils in his chest. He cannot distinguish his urges from each other. Whether it is hunger or desire. Whether to push you away or cling to you closer. He cannot make sense of any of it, despite his efforts. He doesn't need any blood, he's sure - but his mind lacks clarity.

Is he afraid or angry? He does not remember how to tell the difference between those two emotions, either.

"We're here for sex, you know?" He says, proactively pushing into old habits. His eyes feel heavy in their sockets, like their weighed by his own need to be desired perfectly. He seduces you easily. Lowers his lids and parts his lips, snakes a hand against your waist and lets you fall forward until you collapse against his chest. "Hot, lecherous, burning pleasure. Such romantics are best saved for..."

You look at him, and you want him. But it is not the same. Even he is not so foolish as to deny something you make so obvious.

"For?"

The words someone you love do not leave his lips, though they threaten to. "Someone more suitable."

"There's no one so suitable as you," You say, and the words do not sound damning. They do not intend to please him. They're not coated in myth or covered in lies. They're like you, honest and rich. "And that pleasure can be found all the same with regards to what I do."

Astarion understands little of you. Never has, in full. He finds your character damning, finds your kindness often irritable. His plan to seduce you had worked, he thought. You had taken some kind of liking to him. Enough that you act against yourself, just to appease him at times. To clumsily win him over by being a little bad, or being silver-tongued.

But you hadn't laid a hand on him despite his efforts. Without taking anything, you shield him from harm. You kill the people who wish to kill him. He'd never stopped trying to seduce you, because it benefits him to play the part of prized possession to the strong.

He thought your acceptance of his request meant you had finally broken. That he could go through with it.

Yet, you touch him like this - as you have been all evening. You brought a bedroll to fuck him in the woods of all places. Your hands are soft, and warm. You're reverent. He's kissed plenty of people, and played lovers even more than that. It was his lifes work, after all.

But it is impossible to deny that you're different, despite his best efforts to believe you are not.

Astarion isn't familiar with your gestures. He cannot hold his ground against honesty when his existence is passing and pleasant - ephemeral as a white lie.

"Astarion," You say, clear. You enunciate his name. It is not intended to have any weight, yet it crushes him. His chest tightens. Aches. It is all so strangely miserable. He wants to interrupt you, but cannot fix his lips to do such a thing "I wish to make love to you. You're welcome to find it unnecessary."

A kiss. Your mouth is warm, and tastes faintly like the sweet wine you had before bed. Your hands cup around his nape, and your other hand keeps you upright. He won't fall for it but his body does not listen, makes him melt comfortably into the bedroll. You kiss and kiss and kiss, and it is well-practiced like you have loved many times before him.

You must know something better than him.

Still. There is not enough strength in his limbs to fight you. His eyes blink open when you've stopped. A scream almost rips from him, but he's frozen in place instead. He can fight now. He could fight this.

The nails he tries to scratch you with, dig deep onto your waist. He closes his eyes. A begging for you to stay.

"Darling, really," His voice cracks. A touch so gentle and unfamiliar may be the thing to flay him open - cut him into pieces and open him up the blackened night sky. His lips feel cracked, hands shaking. "Wholly unnecessary."

There is no way out from this. From his feelings for you. How terrible.

You examine him quietly, then smile like you know everything. He is so much older than you, yet you smile like you've lived one thousand more lives. Maybe you have.

"Astarion," You mumble, your hands finding his hands. You lock your fingers together, your touch making his nerves fire whenever you brush along them. Your free hand ghosts his lips. "Look at me,"

Then, very suddenly, you push your thumb against the point of his fang. It punctures you in no small wound, and you push until the blood spills. You wince, but it's barely there. You let the blood spill into his parted mouth, let the taste of it fetter onto his lips and tongue. It's almost saccharine. He leans up on instinct, latching himself to it. He drinks from your self-inflicted wound with his eyes lidded, with desperation so unsightly.

You don't slink back. You watch onto him fondly. Watch him eat recklessly. Watch him swallow around you.

You already know what he is, he realizes, too late. The weight of your deliberateness nearly buries him. Unpleasant eyes, that know everything about him without any modicum of effort.

The feeling of anxiety, of restlessness well up even deeper inside him. The bitter unforgiving irony of finding intimacy with you lingers still. There is no escaping the thought that it will be you who betrays him first, and not someone else.

But the taste of blood, your blood, washes it all out. The gentle touch of your skin unsettles him as much as it makes him needy. He wants to be adored, and be adored by you.

He wants you in a way that does not incite any instinct. He works against each one trying to look you in the eyes.

When he manages, you are there and you are kind. You want to make love to him. He wants, very desperately, to believe it is possible. That such a ridiculous thing exists outside of a performance.

His voice is soft as a whisper. "I guess it's not impossible to appease you,"

You kiss the corner of his mouth and grin. He doesn't flinch this time.

"I'm quite relieved."

[vampire-cupid]

Truth or Dare Part 2 (Smut)

Finally the smut is here.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

The clock showed 2 am when you sneaked out of the bed you shared with Sam.

Looking through the room you found everyone else asleep.

With an nervous fluttering in your stomach if you really should do this, you got out of bed. Stopping shortly in front of the mirror, you made sure the pillow didn’t destroy your hair before leaving.

The hallway was dark and empty and seemed almost creepy.

The walk to Josh’s room nearly made you run back to your own back, the shadows not helping.

All of a sudden, someone grabbed you from behind, a hand over your mouth silencing your scream as you tried to get out of the persons grip.

A dark chuckle made you freeze.“I never would have guessed you were such a scaredy cat.” you heard Josh laugh quietly behind you.

Finally taking his hand away from your lips you gasp out “Josh. Never do this to me again.”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

His breath hit your neck, his lips following a few seconds later, “I hope you were on the way to my room and not just searching for the bathroom.”

Josh’s hands had a firm grip on your waist, pressing his body against your back.

For a split second you thought about making a joke yourself but the feeling of something hard poking your backside instead made you gasp again.

“I take that as a ‘we should head to your room’.” Josh laughed giving you a little push to lead you to the master bedroom.

The first sight that greeted you was the big bed on the other side of the wall.

Glancing around you found the room perfectly clean. “Don’t tell me you cleaned your room for this.” you laugh quietly. “In that case, I wont.” Josh replied, closing the door and moving towards you.

Once again he hugged you close from behind, his hands pressing your hips back to his, the bulge in his pants growing and causing heat to erupt in your core.

Quiet whimpers left your lips at the feeling, wanting more.

Despite craving his touch, you stop him, pushing him away.

Carefully he stroked your arms, “Everything ok?” Josh asked, his voice slightly worried.

“I’m sorry Josh, I want this I really do but I don’t want to just be a one night stand or to just be friends with benefits. I really like you but-” your words were interrupted by Josh who pulled you into a deep and passionate kiss, making you lose your thoughts.

Breathlessly, Josh finally separated from you, looking in your eyes with a surprising intense look.

“I’m sorry I made you think that is all I want. I should have been more clear.” pulling me in a hug, Josh pressed a kiss to your forehead before rubbing your nose with his making you giggle.

“I hoped this would be the start for the two of us. Maybe not the most romantic way to get together but I am not the most romantic guy.” he explained, nervously rubbing the back of his head.

With a smile you take his face in your hands “Well, in that case I hope you can impress me tonight and make it worth skipping the first date.”

A surprised squeak fell from your lips as Josh picked you up without a warning, kissing you deep and moving you to his bed, letting you fall backwards on it.

“Don’t worry, I plan to make this a night none of us will ever forget.” he said, giving you a surprisingly soft kiss.

“And if you want me to stop, tell me at any time and I will.” he promised.

Barely a second later he was on top of you, once again kissing with enough passion to steal your breath.

Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pressing his crotch against yours. He groans against your lips, grabbing your hips tightly.

Grinding your hips against his, you enjoyed the way he moaned against your lips.

Moving your hips again to try and get the same reaction, you instead ended up with him biting your lower lip in a teasing way before suddenly pulling completely off.

The way he stood in front of you, staring down with his teasing smirk made you clench your legs in anticipation.

With quick movement, Josh pulled his shirt off, showing off his toned body.

“Sorry sweetheart but you don’t get to tease me today.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he already leaned over you again, sucking marks against your neck while his hands slid under your shirt.

Desperately you tried to hold back your moans but as you felt one of Josh’s hand cup your breast, you couldn’t hold it in.

He groaned against your neck, leaning up to whisper in your ear “Such a good girl, not even wearing a bra for me.” A shiver ran down your spine as he licked a long stripe up your neck.

With a sudden eagerness, Josh pushed your shirt up to reveal your chest to him, the coldness of the room causing your nipples to harden in seconds.

Before you could tell him that he should be more careful, his mouth was already on one of your boobs, kissing and biting the skin around your nipples.

The whines that left your lips urged him on even more.

As you tried to move so that his lips finally met your nipple, he left and repeated the treatment on your other boob.

“Josh! Please!” you begged, grabbing his shoulders to keep you grounded.

With your legs around him, you tried to pull him closer, needing some kind of friction.

But Josh kept his hips away from yours, making you focus on the feeling of his lips alone.

A sudden cry left your lips as Josh bit your nipple without warning.

Biting your lip to keep quiet you thought you could manage until Josh took your nipple in his mouth, sucking roughly. Your moans filled the room as Josh kept going, switching between biting and licking.

“Josh!” you cried out, already knowing your panties were completely drench by now.

When he finally decided to give your chest a break, you were laying breathlessly beneath him. You didn’t even have to look at him to know he was smiling like an idiot right now.

“If you keep screaming like that, everyone will know what we are doing. Unless you want to have an audience?” His words made a whine come out of your throat.

Josh lowered his face down to your chest again. Keeping his eyes on your face as he kissed down your body, over your stomach and to your pants.

With a harsh tug, they were gone, your legs bare to him as his face kept getting lower.

“Josh, you don’t have to-” your tried to say but were interrupted by your own moan.

Josh was kissing you over your panties, sucking on your clit through the piece of cloth.

Once again your hands were in his hair.

You could finally catch your breath again as he let up form your center. The peace didn’t last long before the cold air hit your wet pussy. Josh hastily had pulled your panties off your legs, unbeknownst to you, he hid them in his pants pocket before diving back between your legs.

His tongue drew patterns against your clit, making you moan louder than you wanted to.

Keeping quiet didn’t work for long.

The second Josh slowly pushed a finger inside, he started to suck on your clit.

Your back arched as you cried out his name, your legs around his leg as you came closer to your end.

A second finger entered you and your legs started to tremble.

Unable to decide if you wanted to pull him closer and get more or push him away because the feeling became to much, you ended up cumming before you could make a decision, screaming his name into the night, Josh still not stopping his movement.

Only when your legs fall limb does he finally pull away.

Your eyes were closed as you tried to catch your breath and when you finally looked down he was looking at you. That stupid grin back on his face as he licked your juices off his lips.

“I knew you would sound pretty.”

Despite all the things he already did tonight, these were the right words to make you flustered.

“You are truly adorable.” Josh said leaning his head against your leg as he kept his eyes at your flustered face.

Feeling the bed dip, you look down at Josh who was moving up again to press his lips against yours again.

Your tongues danced together and you could taste yourself in the kiss.

You could faintly hear something rustling. Only when you felt Josh’s cock slap against your core, hitting your clit and making you jump, did you realize he was undressing himself.

“Josh, I want you.” you moan out, trying to pull him closer again.

To your surprise, he pulled away, “Let me just grab a condom.”

You watched his back as he fished the protection from his nightstand and your eyes were pretty much locked on his hands as he rolled it down his impressive length.

Once he was on top of you again, Josh settled between your legs, wrapping them around his waist. His cock once again came in contact with your core.

Rubbing against your entrance, Josh covered himself in your slickness.

“Do you think it’s enough or should I grab some lube?” he asked, softly peppering your face in kisses.

Wrapping your arms around his back you finally caught his lips with yours. “I think it should work without but thank you.”

Finally you could feel his tip line up with your entrance, slowly pushing inside.

Hiding your face in his crook where his shoulder and neck met, you moan quietly at the feeling of being stretched.

He was slow and careful as he slid inside, filling you deliciously.

Finally fully inside, he stopped kissing the side of your face. “You ready?”

“Yes.” you whisper against his skin.

Testing your limits, he nearly pulled out, only keeping the tip inside before thrusting back in with a bit of force. Hearing your moans, silenced against his skin, you took it as a sign to get a bit rougher.

Again and again he repeated the motion, getting faster and harsher with each thrust.

With each thrust your moans got louder making you bit Josh’s shoulder to try and keep quiet.

But as Josh changed the angle of his thrusts, hitting your G-spot perfectly, you threw your head back, screaming out in pleasure.

Josh’s lips found your neck once again, sucking even more marks against your neck as he kept bullying that special spot inside you.

You couldn’t think straight, crying out for Josh over and over.

A fluttering feeling in your core made you call out to Josh. “Please!”

As if understanding from this single word alone, his fingers move between you two, circling your clit in the perfect rhythm.

Your legs began to shake as you felt your high approaching.

“Be a good girl and cum for daddy.” Josh groaned in your ear.

In an instant you reached your peak, crying out loud enough you were sure you would have a sore throat the next day.

Josh was still pounding into you, making your orgasm last longer.

His breath was coming out in hasty breaths. He desperately pressed his lips against yours, kissing you over and over until you felt him groan against your lips, his hips slowing down before coming to a complete halt inside you.

You don’t know how long you stayed like this, just holding each other.

You barely remember how Josh pulled out or cleaned you up.

But you do remember how he pulled your still naked body against his, wrapping the two of you in a blanket falling asleep with a sleepy kiss against your lips and Josh laying his head on top of your head, pulling you against his chest.

________________________________

The next morning, woke up still naked against Josh. Smiling you snuggled closer, happy to feel his arms tighten around you.

By the time you two decided to get out of bed, walking down to the kitchen while giggling, you forgot about the other people in the lodge.

Only when you were cuddling on the couch with Josh, sipping on your drink were you forced to remember.

Walking down the stairs came no other then the rest of your friend group, all of them looking grumpy as they glared at the two of you.

Confused you stared at them but before you could say something, Josh already opened his mouth. “Surprise! We are a couple now!”

“We know!” came the grumpy respond from everyone.

“What? How?” you ask, still not remembering how loud you truly were last night.

“We could hear all of it.” Mike said, walking past you to the kitchen to grab a coffee. Emily and Jess follow him but you didn’t miss the way the girls glanced at Josh.

A sudden *smack* startled you and made you look back.

Despite still being grumpy about the lack of sleep, Chris gave Josh a high five.

The meaning of the situation made your cheeks heat up as you once again hid your face against Josh who just smiled cockily.

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ SKZ + What they love on you (fashion) ‗ ❍

Pairings : OT8 x reader

Genre/warnings : skz simp agenda. Fluff, lots of compliments and sweet boys. no smut but it's definitely suggestive (18+), boobs and ass are mentioned and reader is female presenting

Summary : Which items of clothing (or related things) I think would drive the boys insane when you're wearing them

Word count : 1.8k

A/n : None <3

masterlist

ps: No beta'd. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ��︎

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Chan ‗ ❍

- This man would adore you regardless. He's one of those guys who would find it 10x times more sexy or romantic seeing you just being yourself in an intimate setting, like a house, some sort of trip, going grocery shopping and so on. Plus 10+ points if you happen to be wearing something of his.

- Yeah, wear one of his hoodies or shirts and he's already GONE. He's a (simp)le man. Or his beanie, jackets, scarf, anything that could look good on you tbh.

- But hear me out: also his accessories like his famous stay bracelet, or you could even be lovey doveys and share one earring each.

- NAIL POLISH!! Let him paint your nails for you and do silly little designs on them! You'd have so much fun, he'd giggle so much and end you playing with your hands at random times reminiscing the memories.

- Now onto what would ACTUALLY get him going: I think that either a really really nice dress (like a cocktail or party dress) would make Chan go CRAZYYY

- Bonus points if it's black and hugs your body perfectly. Even more if some skin is showing. V neck, shoulders, low back. He LOVES seeing you dolled up and confident and would make sure to boost the energy as much as he can because you deserve it and he wants to make his girl the most beautiful in the world <3

- Okay now hear me out, seems quite specific but random at the same time BUT, what about side boob. You know those loose sleeveless shirts/tank tops? Like the sporty ones? If you ever wore one of those he would NOT be able to control himself. Imagine if you're not wearing anything underneath tho 🫠

- The side boob + nipple shadow peeking...oh he's HARD and only an emergency fuck can fix it for him I fear

Minho ‗ ❍

- Anything that shows your skin is free real estate for this man. Shoulder? Neck? Collarbones? He's gonna BITE.

- Oh but not only. Imagine wearing something that exposes your legs (and maybe some thighs) like shorts or a mini dress, skirts and so on.

- He's so unhinged like he would purposefully drop his keys or something and leave a bite on the side of your thigh when he crunches down. If he's feeling romantic he'd go for a lil kiss but his goal is to make you flustered nonetheless.

- Speaking of touch and kisses: he'd make sure to get his mouth literally everywhere. Picking up your hand to linger his lips on your palm, back, wrist or forearm, fingers.

- Moving your hair to the side to kiss the back and side of your neck. Yeah 🤒

- In general I don't think he has specific preferences in fashion? I just think that he'd love to see you confident and comfortable in whatever you want to wear.

Changbin ‗ ❍

- You're either his little precious porcelain doll or his emo bad bitch. Nor in between. Man CAN do both and can HAVE both.

- I feel like Changbin (like all the others tbh) would be happy seeing you comfortable and confident. Which doesn't necessarily needs to tie with fashion or your looks.

- BUT☝🏻 he'd be a sucker for a good aesthetic look. He'd lose his mind fr, worshipping the ground you walk on, being loud about how HOT his girlfriend his and all that. As he should!

- As I was saying, he'd like both someone who's extremely feminine and delicate, doll like almost. Soft make up, lots of girly clothes, dresses, skirts, stockings, cute hats and accessories.

- But also someone who gives off the same 'dark/emo' vibe that he gives off at first glance. Lots of black, leather, dark colors, laces, a stronger make up, some edgy accessories.

- And a resting bitch face that would make anyone run but NOT HIM! You'd look like a cupcake to him regardless. He'd go around gushing and fighting his cute aggression for you by just existing.

- Now, a little treat that would most likely (and fortunately for you😵‍💫) get him turned on would be a GOOD pair of jeans. Either some very tight jeans or some cargo style ones, as long as they show off the delicious curve of your ass he's gone. It's literally over for him.

- Trust him to be EMBARRASSINGLY turned on by this, to the point where he'd ask you to wear some just for him, he'd buy them for you and so on. Your body and your ass are already his constant thought and motivation while he works out so might as well fuel his own delulu fantasies by providing the material, am I right?

Hyunjin ‗ ❍

- Once again, he loves you as you are and would be happy just knowing you comfortable in your own skin. But that won't stop him to try and dress you up like his personal model.

- He would never force on you something, especially if it was something that would make you uncomfortable. But he would give you some suggestions here and there, on how to mix and match some items, which colors he thinks compliment you the most.

- He would love to see you being so confident and happy in the results, too. Just like a painter adding details to his masterpiece.

- I lowkey feel like, since we got Mr. Romantic and artsy boy on our hands, I kinda feel like he'd lose if he saw you wearing something more... ethereal? Like a specifically made dress. It could be the soft palette, the delicacy of laces and pearls, the perfect way that the draping compliments your body and falls perfectly.

- His own personal princess. Yes, I think that he would love to either have you as his personal hot catwalk style model or a literal princess that came out of a painting.

- Speaking of art. You're also his muse, of course. And few things to him are equally as aesthetically pleasing as certified turn on for him like your chest.

- He does love lingerie on you, BUT, if you really want to make him drop on his knees on the spot, just wear one of those pretty corsets. You know, the ones with laces, and ribbons. This is for the bedroom though.

- He'd get equally as horny with any type of garment that gave the same effect though. Like a sweetheart neckline paired with a good bra. A low v neckline dress, a slightly unbuttoned plain shirt. Oh yes.

- Hyune tits man agenda going strong and I'll die on this hill.

Jisung ‗ ❍

- He's a homebody. Being at home and domestic is probably his favorite place after being on stage. I feel like his perfect day would be chilling and having fun at home, where you're most free and comfortable.

- Which is why, while I of course think that Jisung would foam at the mouth with you being all sexy and dressed up, he'd as easily get turned on by a simple home outfit.

- Yoga pants showing your ass, shorts showing your thighs, long oversized t shirts showing legs AND thighs. Bonus if the stuff is his. Bonus X2 if you're not wearing anything underneath.

- Yes absolutely that's enough for him. He loves a nice put up together outfit but would that allow him to take you on the nearest surface and make an absolute mess of you without a care in the world? Probably not, so there you go, you got yourself a winner

- You wearing his old glasses (since he doesn't need them anymore) or even your own glasses get him turned on. Don't ask, he's a pervert.

Felix ‗ ❍

- Felix seems like he has a taste for expensive things. Especially fashion and accessories wise.

- He'd drool seeing you sport a very high fashion item, like peculiarly cut out dress or jacket, something quite unique. He loves seeing you looking like a literal model straight out of a magazine. And would love even more to match with you.

- The matching would be valid for the accessories too. You would share pretty much everything, from the earrings, rings, bracelets, necklaces, watches, hats, gloves and so on. He'd insist to have always something matching with you.

- In a more intimate setting though, something that you can never go wrong with are pretty sleeping gowns, lingerie sets, silky and lacy pajamas. Something very girly, dollish, delicate, almost innocent. Strictly in pale and pastel colors. He would love to buy them for you, too. As his personal treat.

- The sight of you wearing such a delicate but expensive as fuck bralette and panties that he knows he could rip off of you with his own teeth just makes him nearly cum in his pants.

Seungmin ‗ ❍

- Seungmin would get off on the confidence that you show to others. Whether it is a façade or you're really just a bad bitch, he finds it extremely hot.

- He goes crazy when you dress up smartly, elegantly, and maybe, just a tad provocative.

- A normal blouse, elegant. But that shows just enough cleavage when you move or bend in certain ways. Cigarette pants perfectly ironed, peofessional. But that make the curve of your ass so delicious. A normal pair of black Louboutines, with that sexy red heels.

- It makes him hard because he feels superior in knowing exactly what's behind that façade and that he's the only one that you'd be willing to drop it for.

- Extra points if he saw you getting ready and you're the only two people in the room who know that a pretty, lacy red lingerie set is hiding under all those elegant and composed clothes. You'd get him thinking about it all night.

- I also feel like he'd have a thing for your legs being shown off and your nais being done, maybe even when you're wearing a particular perfume. Maybe HIS, perfume.

Jeongin ‗ ❍

- Jeongin would be a sucker for you acting cool. Like standing there with some sporty clothes and a pair of sunglasses and a nice perfume. That's enough for him to simp HARD.

- He'd love to go shopping together and purposefully buy stuff that you could easily switch and match with each other. You're boyfriend and girlfriend yes but you are COOL boyfriend and girlfriend ykwim.

- In a more formal setting, he particularly loves when you wear dresses that have low cuts. Somewhere. Whether is a frontal low cut, a side low cut, a back low cut, or a high slit on the bottom part.

- The idea that all it would take for him to take it off you is just a flick of his fingers gets him CRAZY. Especially if they are dresses that require to not wear a bra.

- All that bare back, shoulders, neck, chest...idk man in his opinion it should all be covered in kisses, licks and bruises IMMEDIATELY.

- Bonus if you wear a high slit dress and you make him understand that you're not wearing panties underneath. Now you're in for a treat...

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[toxicanonymity]

Hi lovely absolutely obsessed with your blog (but you should already know that lol)

I was wondering if I could get Joel or javi where they hunt down the reader mocking her as she's hiding when she's finally caught he just degrades and makes her cry while he gets off as punishment for running away from him

Caught

900 words / DARK!Joel x f!reader / master list

Sequel here

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, IT'S A DARK ONE EVEN FOR ME! NSFW 18+ Physical abuse, domestic violence, degradation, masturbation, imprisonment and captivity, starvation, injuries, facial cum shot, maybe more? I like horror, keep that in mind. TW

I cross-pollinated FOUR dark asks and they darkened each other. Here's an ask and another and @scratchietella I had yours in mind too. This is a throwaway Joel!

-

“You really think I’m gonna walk away?” Joel asks.  You’re hiding behind a pile of rubble.  “I’m gonna let you go?” Tears sting your eyes. He’s never gonna let you go.  He told you as much before you willingly became his.  At the time, you thought he was being protective.  Romantic. You thought it was love.  You adored him and you hardly knew him.  It was his intensity, his obsession with you.  You did this to yourself.  You practically chained yourself to the bed. 

 “Nowhere to go, darlin’.” The bite of his tongue shakes you from your self loathing.  It’s true, you’re on the second floor and he’s between you and the stairs.  “So come on out now, damnit.”  You move your head enough to steal a glance, and he’s pointing his rifle right at you. It's over. 

“How stupid ARE you, hmm? Weak little girl like you, tryin' to be a big hero. . .can’t even take care of yourself."  

He won’t let you.  You can’t because he won’t let you.   He takes you to the bathroom.  He brushes your teeth for you.  You can only hope you’d remember how at this point. 

You give up trying not to cry and let the tears flow.

"Pathetic."

He's right.  You hold your hands up in surrender as you sob. The bruises and raw skin on your arms catch your eye again and you cry harder.  Now that you know what they look like in the light, it's easier to see them in the dark.   Today was the first time you'd seen your body in full daylight since he's been keeping you locked up.  You knew you were weak, you knew you were sore, you just hadn't seen the evidence of how real it all was. Now you’re sure if you caught your reflection your neck would be a ring of bruises. 

Once you start sobbing, something changes in his face.  It turns him on. You’ve learned this.  He rubs himself over his jeans then slowly approaches you and abruptly grabs you by the throat. He looks you in the eyes and his irises are black. It’s the same intensity that enamored you when he first found you. When you didn’t know what it was.

“On your knees," he growls through gritted teeth.   He releases you and unbuckles his jeans. 

You knew it would happen.  You knew he would catch you, but you had to try anyway. You’ve been wasting away in the shadows of his life.  A dirty secret everyone assumed was dead. Claimed by cordyceps, not by a monster.  Taken, not willingly gone. 

“Dumb fuckin’ slut,” he snarls and you cry harder.

“You’d prolly come crawlin' back anyway, beggin’ for this cock.”  He takes his stiff length in his hand. “I’m savin’ you the trouble. You’d prolly get lost on your way.”  He steps forward. "Go on, give it a kiss."

You take the tip into your mouth and suck him.  It sends a pang of need from your core to your chest.  You salivate onto it. You can’t think straight with him in your mouth.  You’re starting to agree with him.  

Then he takes his cock away.  “Know how much you like suckin' this cock. Filthy slut.  But you don’t get to today.” He strokes himself.  The sight of his masculine hand wrapped around his thick cock always makes you weak in the knees.  You feel stupid for running.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

You sniffle, still crying.  His cock is so nice.  He’s awful, but god he has a nice one.  A man can only make you come so many times before you associate the sight of his cock with pleasure.  

“I don’t know,” you say.  

“Asked you a fuckin’ question,” he says, still stroking his cruel length. 

He abuses you with it, makes all your holes sore. But when he doesn’t – when he’s too tired, or just can't be bothered - it’s so, so good.  There are moments when he seems to forget to make it hurt.  Moments where he nearly kisses you.  You can't look him in the eye in those moments.  You can't do anything that could make him realize what he's doing or he'll overcorrect and hurt you even worse than usual. 

“I wanted to go outside,” you say. 

“You coulda asked,” he says as he pumps his swollen length and watches you cry.  You wonder if he really would’ve taken you outside.  "What the hell you need to go outside for?"

You sob, “I don't know.  I was hungry”

“You’re always hungry.” 

“And I felt like walking.”

“Where the hell you need to walk to?” His breathing intensifies.

“Nowhere.”

He shakes his head in disapproval. "Ungrateful brat.” He stares down at his cock and strokes himself harder, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. You can’t help but feel like there’s still a glimmer of goodness in him somewhere. You feel it in the middle of the night.  You feel it when he’s asleep.  When he hugs you softly and gently cups a breast, curving his body around yours.  When he kisses your neck.  

When he forgets to be mean.  

“I can hardly look at you.” His viciousness shakes you from your thoughts again. 

He points his cruel length at your face and you close your eyes.  His hot cum coats your forehead, nose, and mouth. 

 “Don’t waste it if you’re so hungry,” he says.

All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires

[bullet-prooflove]

Bedhead & Whitesheets Prompt List

Please check the updated character list on my pinned post to see who I am writing for before submitting a prompt!

Also read the rules and do not forget to put the entire prompt into your ask!

When I saw her hold that other hand, it was like I saw a ghost

And when we're getting dirty, I forget all that is wrong

7.30 in the morning, with your bedhead and my white sheets

You found me lost in the dark, without a clue of where I was, who I was.

And then, she came up to my knees Begging, baby, would you please? Do the things you said you'd do to me

She took my fingers to her mouth The kind of thing that makes you proud That nothing else had ever

You're so tortured when you sleep

That boy, he got some ho in him

Oh, won't you kiss me on the mouth and love me like a sailor?

Now it’s just four empty walls, where I rest my head and get no rest at all

Sometimes my past life still has a hold on me

My battle, my shadow it’s never far from me

I know you really want to call but trust me don’t

I don't believe in God, but I believe that you're my savior

I’ll die before I run back to you

Not tryna be romantic, I'll hit it from the back Just so you don't get attached 

Does it turn you on when I turn you around?

I pray we make it, pray my friend will pull through

You take the heat and with such grace

I know that you've been worried, but you're dripping in my favor

Fixing me is breaking you

Smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze

I like the way you kiss me, I can tell you miss me

The battle scars are healing

But nothing can capture the sting Of the venom she's gonna spit out right now

Make a bitch dance for a bad man

You bite my lip just for the taste

And I hold you every night And that's a feeling I wanna get used to

Cause, baby, you've shown me so many things that I never knew

But there's no man as terrified As the man who stands to lose you

You're on your knees, I'm on the case

And when you think about me all those years ago you’re staring face to face with I told you so

Without you, there's no way I can sleep tonight

Taking down her hair like, oh, my God Taking off your shirt, 

There are no more tears to cry I heard you beggin' for life

You know I'm impatient So why would you leave me waiting outside the station When it was like minus four degrees? 

Don't you want me like I want you, baby?

Love me 'til they put me in my casket

She was cryin' on my shoulder, all I could do was hold her

I was in a sheer dress the day we met

Now I know that you love me, you don't need to remind me

Pray when she looks at herself in the mirror She sees a queen, she sees a goddess

If you want a baby, let's make it 

Whatever you do You know these reckless thoughts of mine are following you

I just really don't wanna hear it right now Can you shut up for like once in your life?

She was your girl, you showed her the world

Baby, you can look, not touch and taste it 

Things fall apart and time breaks your heart

And it's nights like this when I need your love

Can’t see the knife when it’s too close

But I see her in the back of my mind All the time

Baby, please come around, help me settle down

Innocent and a freak, that's my type shit 

Prayin' on your love, we pray with every breath Though I'm in the valley of the shadow of death

I think about you and nothin' else So if you would just come over, I could show you for myself

[daitranscripts]

Trespasser Credits Dialogue

All This Shit is Weird

Trespasser Masterpost

—

Cassandra: What is this? A new book? “All This Shit is Weird.” Oh, Varric. That is a terrible title. What are you even thinking?

Cassandra: “The sky churned like a roiling sea on a dark and stormy night, centered on a gaping hole that led to the ass-end of nowhere. A hole that spit up many things that day: comets, demons… and a whole lot of trouble.” (Gasps.) It’s about the Inquisition!

Cassandra: “The din of the tavern cut the silence like it owed the Carta money. In the middle, in her element, Red Jenny. She looked me up and down—mostly down. ‘Not playing, weirdy,’ she said, gesturing with, and dismissively eating, a sandwich. ‘Don’t write that. Seriously, piss up a rope.’ Sera made the subtext text, which suited me fine.”

Cassandra: “The court enchanter swirled into the room like a drop of beautiful poison spreading in a wine glass. She sized me up with a glance. ‘I’m so glad you made it, my dear,’ she said, ‘I am Madame de Fer, the most terrifying person you shall ever meet.’”

Cassandra: “Leliana enfolded Alphonse in an embrace as warm as a serpent’s kiss. ‘I always knew I could count on your support.’ The count did not feel the bite of her poisoned dart until it was too late. ‘Even if it requires… your death.’”

Cassandra: “Drops of rain glistened on the griffon medallion grasped tightly in Blackwall’s hand. ‘The Silverite Wings of Valor. They mean nothing.’ He flung the medal to the cold and uncaring ground. ‘You don’t know what I’ve done! You. Don’t. Know. Me.’” (Sighs.) So romantic.

Cassandra: “Cole moved like a shadow that also moved like a knife, a shadow wearing a hat where dreams came to die. ‘It’s a riddle,’ he whispered. ‘A cold riddle that gnaws at your mind, but you’ll feel better when it’s gone.’” That… makes as much sense as anything Cole says.

Cassandra: “‘Do you place your Herald above the law, Ambassador?’ ‘Whose law, my lady?’ Josephine’s eyes glittered like angry opals. ‘The law destroyed by rebellion? By civil war? By poor fiscal management? We are the law!’”

Cassandra: “We left our mark on Adamant, but the dust hadn’t settled… and neither had Harding. ‘I can offer you a drink, if I catch your meaning.’ ‘If you’d caught my meaning, you’d have offered a double.’” What is even happening here?

Cassandra: “The Iron Bull was a great slab of muscle with horns that could hang a tapestry. One eye scanned for threats, while the other hid behind an eye patch like a Chantry sister’s old sins. ‘Come on,’ he barked, not looking back as he entered. ‘The dancer with the great rack comes on in five.’” That is… spot-on, actually.

Cassandra: “The commander had the look of a templar who had seen the worst of humanity, yet still had the time to style his hair. ‘This isn’t just a war,’ he said, his gaze steely like a dull blade. ‘It’s the only war.’” Cullen! That’s Cullen!

Cassandra: “The mage wore a class of handsome sneer cultivated by a thousand years of Tevinter elitism. ‘The name’s Dorian,’ he glared. ‘D-O-R-I-A-N. Spell it right, you marble-headed lump, or it’s… toad time.’” A toad? That’s hardly credible.

Cassandra: “The bald elf spun, mage staff crackling like the city after a good man’s murder. ‘You’re crazy!’ the red templar cried in terror. Moonlight glinted off ears like the knives you never see coming. ‘Better to fade out than burn away.’” Ugh. Varric.

Cassandra: Wait, where am I? I don’t… oh, here it is. “The Seeker clutched at my vest, her tears as desperate as they were pitiful. ‘Varric, I was wrong about everything,’ she sobbed. ‘Could you find it in your noble heart to forgive me?’” That dwarf, he… he… He put me in the book! (Giggles.) I’m in the book! I am reading the shit out of this.

[1800i-dont-write-fanfiction]

(16) smut

His tongue was tracing idle patterns across my chest when he claimed a nipple between his teeth. I closed my eyes and nearly forgot that it was the All-Father's throbbing erection threatening to incapacitate me. How sorely reminded I was when the sound of his voice shook me from my pleasant haze.

“Undress me,” he demanded.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-His weight pinned me against the sheets, but his gaze held me captive. The sensation was pleasant, if not constricting. Years of loneliness and duty had left me starved for physical contact, and I savored it. His body on mine grounded me in a way that felt both foreign and undeniably welcome. His hands were rougher than I expected as his fingers worked to open my robe; the cool air on my skin was a relief where his heat made me burn.

“I cannot decide if I am more drawn to your insolence or enraged by it.”

“You've certainly devoted enough time to pondering it,” I countered.

His lips twitched. "Perhaps.”

I opened my mouth to deliver some scathing comment about his admission, but the words tangled in my throat when he shifted his weight, grinding against me with infuriating skill. My cheeks burned as shame curled in my fluttering stomach, though clearly not enough to mask the treacherous sound that followed. His smile widened, dark and insufferably smug. “You think you are clever,” he murmured, as though he hadn’t just stolen my ability to form a coherent retort.

"Not particularly," I practically gasped at the feeling of his arousal. The chamber was silent, save for the sound of our breath, though I felt he was daring me to shatter it. 

“What would the Dread Wolf say,” he mused, “if he could see you now?”

The mention of Solas might as well have been a bucket of cold water over my head, dousing the haze of my lust in an instant. As I turned my face away to hide the guilt now prickling at my eyes, he caught me with a grip that could've easily shattered my jaw. “Look at me,” he barked, “Do not cower in the shadows when you lay before your god.”

“You must forgive me for not groveling properly,” I shot back. I could feel him growing harder. Maddingly, it made me want to antagonize him, like poking a fire to see if it would spread. He was a rope I wished to pull taut to see if he would snap.

“I will show you what it means to serve a god,” he hissed, yanking my head back. His lips pressed into a thin line as his eyes fixed on me, clearly expecting awe or terror—perhaps both. I offered neither; rather, a shiver as his fingers traced lightly down the curve of my neck, lingering at the base of my throat.

“If you require my submission, you will find me a poor subject." The words fell from my lips recklessly.

His thumb brushed over my bottom lip as he leaned closer. "You delight in provoking me." he murmured, fingers splaying over my ribs. His palm slid to the curve of my breast and his lips curled into something that might have been a smile once, were it not so cold. "You crave this." 

Then his mouth was on mine.

Our teeth clashed—hardly romantic—as if either of us had any interest in yielding. The air grew thick with heat as his hand slid down my stomach, fingers daring me to squirm while he explored the shape of my flesh. Humming an approving purr, he pinched my nipple sharply. A moan I hardly recognized as my own turned into something like indignation as his other hand, insufferably self-assured, tipped my chin to command the contest of wills one might mistake for a kiss.

"You are intolerably smug," I hissed against his lips, "And I abhor you." 

The tremor in my voice swallowed my intent.

He broke away, panting in sharp, impatience bursts as I tingled beneath his touch, every brush of his fingers carving a trail of lightning into my skin. His teeth grazed the curve of my neck. I shuddered despite myself. "Your body knows its master, even if your tongue does not," he said, biting down on a tender spot. I groaned, and my traitorous arm wrapped around him, daring him to notice.

What is happening to me?

His tongue was tracing idle patterns across my chest when he claimed a nipple between his teeth. I closed my eyes and nearly forgot that it was the All-Father's throbbing erection threatening to incapacitate me. How sorely reminded I was when the sound of his voice shook me from my pleasant haze.

“Undress me,” he demanded.

I peeked open my eyes lazily, slow and heavy-lidded, as though waking from a dream I hadn’t realized I’d fallen into. My body felt weightless, warm, and detached, as if submerged in something thick and intoxicating. The thought of resistance flitted somewhere in the back of my mind, but it was distant and unimportant. I felt myself pout as I sat, moving to unclasp the buckles of his chest-plate. His eyes followed my every motion as though I were performing some great tragedy for his amusement. If I were a performer, I was a willing enough one, my body slipping further into the role with each clasp undone. The faint curl of his lips deepened into a smirk so inflaming I wanted to slap him—or perhaps kiss him—just to be free of it. I felt a peculiar satisfaction, a languid thrill blooming in my stomach at the way he watched me.

I knew I should have questioned it, but the idea felt insufferably tedious. To analyze, to resist, to assert myself when surrender seemed the proper course, was exhausting in consideration alone. There was something almost indulgent in allowing the moment to unfold unchallenged. His hand caught my wrist, stilling my movements, and only then did I realize how deeply I had slipped into obedience.

“You are more compliant than I imagined,” he murmured. His voice sounded smooth and soft, and I reached out to touch his throat before he squashed my attempt with a firm squeeze. My skin broke out in goosebumps as lightning arced from his fingertips, casting sharp shadows across his face. He stood from the bed, looming over me.

“Finish what you started,” he commanded impatiently.

I lowered myself to the floor, kneeling to undo the buckles at his hips. “On da'lan,” he murmured, brushing a thumb across my cheek. My stomach twisted at how I craved his satisfaction as much as I craved denying him. “It seems you are capable of obedience.” The sound of his chuckle vibrated through the air.

My defenses crumbled and my mouth began watering as I spied the bulge of his arousal straining against his leggings. His thumb stroked my lower lip, coaxing almost tenderly. "Suck," he commanded, pressing two of his fingers into my mouth. My tongue worked around them tentatively while his other hand tangled in my hair, directing my head back. His eyes darkened as he watched my lips work around his digits, moving them with deliberate thrusts. The marble tile beneath me grew almost painfully hard against my knees as Elgar'nan tugged my hair firmly. I gripped the edge of his leggings, searching for purchase in the tactile sensation as my head spun. 

"Swallow." He commanded.

I did.

Slowly, he withdrew his fingers. The wet sounds echoed in the chamber as I panted. A tear rolled down my cheek. The sudden lack of his touch left me wanting more, my body protesting as I knelt. I found myself leaning forward again, drawn like a moth to light. My gaze locked on his groin while my tongue traced my lips instinctively. His free hand began to stroke my face as he regarded me, almost pitying. He tilted my head back to maintain eye contact.

"Show me how the Dalish pray to their god." He spoke softer, but just as authoritative.

I trembled, reaching for the tie of his leggings. The chamber echoed with the rustle of silk, and my fingers fumbled in nervous excitement. When the fabric finally slid away, the sight of him gave me pause. I had never seen any man so large I wasn't sure what to do with him. My eyes returned to his face, searching for any sign of approval while my heart beat painfully against my ribs. His eyes burned with pride at my submission, watching me as I touched him. I wrapped my hand around him then, making his breath catch sharply. I was barely able to encircle his girth. A deep groan filled the chamber as he placed his hand over mine, guiding me in a slow rhythm. My thumb swept over his tip, spreading the bead of wetness that leaked from him. A powerful shudder ran through his body at the contact.

Emboldened, I leaned forward to taste him, my tongue flicking across the head of his cock before trailing down its full length and back. His hips moved forward with growing impatience. A deep rumble filled the chamber as he pushed deeper into my mouth, making me open wider to take him. His fingers traced along the shell of my ear, a gentle but demanding caress that pushed me to suck harder. I took him deep in my throat, relaxing against his demands. His musk filled my senses while I struggled to breathe. My eyes watered as each thrust hit the back of my throat.

His other hand tangled in my hair, controlling the rhythm. I tried to match his pace, grabbing onto his thighs for balance as the marble bruised my knees. The taste made me moan around him, vibrating on his flesh. He tensed as he thrust deeper into my throat, if that were even possible. I felt him throb as his thrusts became faster and unrestrained. His legs tremored as he came, pulsing one final time as hot fluid filled my throat. His grip on my hair tightened before he finally away, making me gasp for air. Drops of cum leaked from the corners of my lips. 

"Ma girem fenor. Ina'lan'ehn." The words made heat rise to my cheeks as he wiped the last of his spill from my bottom lip, smearing it across my mouth in a slow caress.

His hand guided me to sit back on my bruised heels with surprising gentleness for a being who had just face-fucked me on the floor, the marble biting into my skin as I watched him dress. Through blurry eyes I watched him retrieve a slip of fabric before cleaning my chin and lips with careful attention.

When he left, I felt decidedly alone.

[retiredficwriter]

you know what my problem with blood promise is? the reveal at the end that strigitri is alive.

and no, it's not just because i don't like romitri.

it's because it undoes rose's healing journey from the grooming dimitri inflicted on her.

i finished my dark vanessa recently (a fantastic and difficult read) and the mc's journey is eerily similar to what rose goes through in shadow kiss and blood promise.

at the end of shadow kiss, rose is grieving. yes, i know it’s for dimitri, but i can't help but think this grief is also her subconscious way of coping with her being groomed. dimitri turned into a strigoi, a "monster," right after he commits statutory rape. i don't think that's a coincidence.

after the attack and learning about dimitri's fate, the way rose acts is similar to the behavior changes grooming has on its victims - isolating herself from her friends and family, not feeling like she belongs, withdrawing from the academy and risking herself in dangerous activities like, you know, going after dimitri to kill him. lissa tries to prevent rose from doing that but rose is not ready to move on and heal. this is the only way for her cope and regain control.

also now that im thinking about it, mdv has the mc have a failing out with her best friend in the beginning (that could be read with queer lens) and that same ex best friend is the one who tries to help the mc with realizing that what she had with her teacher was wrong…

the book shows the magnitude of the grooming through the romitri flashbacks throughout blood promise. i never liked them because it never fit the timeline of the series and i just didn't care. but now i wonder if they can be read as rose reliving the times dimitri was grooming her and her brain trying to re-contextualize it as romantic and consensual to cope. the way they appear throughout the book and fragmented is similar to intrusive thoughts caused by the trauma. it also plays into the fandom's argument on how rose is an unreliable narrator, which happens in mdv too.

and then we have the strigitri section, which is one big metaphor for abusive relationship. dimitri wants to turn rose into a strigoi but makes it clear it's "her" choice on the matter. he manipulates her with her feelings for him and when it's obvious that is not enough for her to accept the transformation, he bites her so the endorphins can cloud her judgement. like in mdv, rose is given the illusion of choice but it's dimitri who is in charge, and uses other means (drugs) to assert control over her. another interesting point i found was how rose kept reassuring the reader how dimitri never had sex with her while she was under the effects of the bite, and yet the first time he bit her was without her consent. again, i think this is dimitri painting himself as ‘not that bad’ to manipulate rose (and the audience).

but without the endorphins and knowing lissa is danger, rose fights back. it's also when she asks dimitri why he wants to turn her that makes her realize his reason is not out of love. he wants her to own her. and with that, she finally stakes him and let’s go of him (figuratively and metaphorically).

when rose goes back to the academy, it's clear she's ready to go to the path of recovery. i mean look at all these passages when she meets with lissa again:

honestly i was quite happy for rose. it's such a beautiful conclusion to this book and a great development for her.

and then you have the audacity to slap me in the face with "oh! he's is still alive :) and rose will save him!"

what was the point of this book then? why make rose go this beautiful and heartbreaking growth if you're going to make her restore her teacher who groomed her?? i don't care that this is paranormal romance. by giving a solution to strigitri you are allowing rose to be stuck in this cycle of abuse. i mean, no wonder her narration in book 5 - 6 is so heavily focused on dimitri and it’s in those books where her more problematic actions (see: everything with adrian) happen. that’s why i feel like rose barely grew in va: because dimitri manipulated her into resuming their relationship and thus, unable to heal from the grooming.

[maries-tales]

WHERE THEY LIKE TO KISS YOU

characters: Julian, Aaron, Adam

warnings: suggestive, mentions of dark content, mdni

JULIAN: Nape 

Of course during his time watching you Julian learned to love every inch of you, every nook and cranny of both your looks and your personality. From your qualities to your worst flaws, he loves it all and takes it all as yet another part of you. 

Exception being those nasty habits you have of neglecting your sleep and your health, those are things Julian likes to think he can change. 

However he always found himself especially attracted to your nape. For many reasons. 

He loves how elegant it is when you wear your hair up, which, to his greatest enjoyment, is most of the time considering your hair is more often than not up in a ballet bun. 

He loves the gentle slope of your nape as well, how soft the skin is and how it always smells of your perfume. All that makes it the perfect spot for him to bury his face in the crook of your neck and bathe in the comfort of your scent. 

The one thing he loves most about it is how sensitive it is though. No matter how many times he’s wrapped his arms around you from behind and kissed you there, you always lean into his touch with a sound between a sigh and a gasp. 

You’re sitting up on the bed, tying your hair up to get them out of your way and get yourself ready for the day ahead. Julian groans behind you, shifting in bed and sitting right behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you back against his chest. 

A surprised gasp falls from your lips followed by a quiet chuckle. 

“Good morning.” He says, voice deep with remnants of sleep and muffled by your skin. 

You don’t have time to answer, another gasp escaping you as his teeth lightly dig into the flesh of your nape. Julian eases the stinging pain with his tongue and a kiss. Only to continue nibbling at your skin until it blooms purple and red with the mark of his love. 

“Don’t move. I am not done yet.” He says against your skin, pulling you closer and tightening his embrace around you. Wishing the two of you could stay together in bed a bit longer. 

Alas he knows that is impossible. He can still prolong your time together though. 

“But what if someone sees it-”

“Let them.” 

To him, it’s a reminder to you and others that you are his. But also a reminder to himself that his dream of being together with you finally came true thanks to all his hard work. 

And often you find him gazing at the love bite on your nape with fondness and a soft smile. A look that always melts your heart. 

AARON: Hands

One thing Aaron remembers clearly when he was a child is how his father and mother would always hold hands, how his father would kiss the top of his mother’s hand and gently glide his lips over her wrist. 

As a child, Aaron used to think this was the most romantic of gestures and he dreamed of doing this with someone dear to his heart at some point as well, before his dreams of romance were shattered by the accident that had taken his mother’s life. 

After that the world froze over around him and any romantic delusions he had vanished from his thoughts. 

After all Aaron had seen the effects of love on his father, how it had destroyed him from the inside out after Aaron’s mother’s death. How it had made the greatest of man in Aaron’s mind, into a miserable shadow drowned in liquor. 

Aaron never wanted this for himself. He didn’t want to become like his father. 

So he thought that the best option would be to cut the problem at its root. 

Love. Nothing more but a burden, nothing more but the deadliest and most destructive of emotions. Something he could do without. 

And he was doing just fine. Until he met you, that is, and until you flipped his world upside down. 

Suddenly Aaron found himself rekindling old childhood daydreams. Mainly that simple act of holding your hand and kissing the back of it. As stupid as it sounded, it was everything to Aaron.  

Of course he loves how soft your hands are in his own, how small. How smooth your skin is under his lips as he kisses your palm and the inside of your wrist. 

But more than anything he loves all that this simple gesture entails. 

That you trust him, enough to be on intimate terms with him, in spite of how much of an asshole he was to you at the start and in spite of how socially inept he still is. 

That he is not alone anymore, trapped in the cold cage he had crafted for himself after his mother’s death. The simple sight of your intertwined hands a reminder for Aaron of how much brighter the world is by your side, of how happier he is now that he’s with you. 

And more importantly: that Aaron wasn’t his father, and that he’d never allow you to flee away from his grasp like his mother had. If he kept you safe, there was no reason for you to leave, right? 

Thus, hand kisses became to him the symbol of his love and devotion for you. 

Sensibility and vulnerability bleed through his lips onto your hand as his eyes bore into yours. He raises your hand to his lips, his skin warm against yours. And he presses the lightest of kisses to the top of your hand, lips barely gracing your skin. A silent pledge of his devotion, of his trust. 

A silent reminder that his heart has no other master but you. And another way to say “I am yours.”

ADAM: Lips

Adam can’t count the amount of time he’s dreamed of kissing you before the two of you were together, of holding you close and having a taste of happiness on the sore of your lips as the world vanishes around him. 

He imagined it might taste sweet and feel like heaven. Like everything good in this world. He knew it’d be perfect. 

But nothing could have prepared him for just how perfect and addictive kissing you would turn out to be. As nothing could have ever compared to the real thing, to the real you and the real euphoria of his heart bursting in his chest as his lips pressed against yours and his tongue slid inside your mouth. 

The first time he kissed you Adam thought he’d die from how wildly his heart was hammering in his chest. It was just so right. And he could never see himself getting bored of this. 

His arms snake around your waist, pulling you closer and closer, flush against him, desirous for the two of you to melt into one. For you to swallow him whole and cradle him in the universe of your arms. He aches to discover every inch of you, to climb under your skin and map all the details in your body. 

Adam cups your cheek gently, a gesture that contradicts the desperation in his kiss. A man starved for something he can never get enough of, your heart, your touch and your soul. 

He’s eager to rediscover the taste of your lips all over again every time, knowing that each time feels like the first. 

“I never tire of this…” He says, eyes feverish as he looks at you, his lips red and raw, “I’m sorry, please let me kiss you again?” 

And again, and again, and again. Until his lips turn blue and he can’t breathe anymore. Until his lungs burn for air and his head spins. 

[sparklyslug]

the unacknowledged mediocre off-broadway #1 if you're up for it! 👀 otherwise #98?

(OKAY FINE BUT ONLY BECAUSE THIS MADE ME LAUGH. This is a musical about the Trojan War, this song in particular is from Odysseus' POV. It is aggressively Just Fine. Frankly a miracle this whole EP wasn't all over my Top 100, but that this ONE SONG would be RIGHT AT THE TOP? So damn annoying.)

(Steddie Spotify Wrapped Challenge)

Eddie traces a hand across Steve's chest slowly, apparently transfixed by the way the firelight sends shadows through the hair there. When he passes a thumbnail across Steve's nipple, apparently by accident (Steve isn't fooled), Steve's answering sharp inhale almost drowns out Eddie's quiet question.

"And you still sail tomorrow?"

Steve covers Eddie's hand with his, stopping him. But he can't help himself from reaching out, wrapping a strand of the sorcerer's long black hair around his fingers.

"You still going to change back my crew?"

Eddie's eyes are wide and deep, eldritch dark on Steve's face. There's no point in denying that their inhuman stare doesn't do something to Steve, quickening his blood somehow. He stopped fighting against that within his first month on Eddie's island.

Eddie nods, slowly.

"Then I still sail," Steve says simply.

"Back to Nancy," Eddie says. Shifts a little on top of the furs spread across the cavern floor. The chill air coming off the sea doesn't seem to affect him at all, pale limbs almost glowing in the firelight. Steve, on the other hand, would probably be half frozen solid if it wasn't for the fire. And for Eddie warming him up so very thoroughly, just moments ago.

"Back to my wife," Steve agrees quietly. Lets loose the lock of hair, dropping his hand to the side of Eddie's neck. Feels it, when Eddie swallows. "She's waiting for me."

"So you say," Eddie says, leaning in to press a kiss just under Steve's ear.

"So you think," he says, moving to kiss the swell of Steve's collarbone.

"How romantic," he concludes, and bites down none too gently.

[van-der-linde-worms]

Take Your Cigarette From Its Holder, Burn Your Initials On My Shoulder

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/ Mary Gillis Linton

Fic summary: AU in which Mary is wanted for the murder of her husband and that of her father, and Arthur is a bounty hunter going after her.

Rating: Explicit

Genre: Idiots in love, slow burn

~~~~~~

Chapter XIII: Unrequited

Word count: 7980

Last chapter: Chapter XII

“Hey, Arthur!” Mary calls out from the kitchen. “ ‘fore it gets too cold, I was figuring we could head out for a little camping trip. It’s clear out anyway.” Mary pauses for a moment. “You know anything about constellations?”

“Stars? Eh, I know the north star I guess,” he mutters as he stretches his arms. “When do ya wanna go then?”

“What'd you say about today?”

He looks up at her as he picks up his pants from the floor. “Today? Hm, can't blame ya for getting bored, being stuck here all day 'n stuff.”

“So, it's a yes then?” she asks, just loud enough for him to hear her over the sizzling of whatever she is cooking in the pot.

“'course.” He puts on his shirt and makes his way to her. He can hear a faint laughter and his arms encircle her waist, making his heart flutter.

A blissful sigh escapes his mouth as he nuzzles his jaw against her hair. The top of her head is just at the perfect height for his chin to rest on. His arms tighten around her, the soft smell of her hair is almost heavenly to him. 

“What's a good time then?” she asks. Arthur lets out a low croon and looks down at the colourless, chunky mix in the pan. 

“We ain’t in a hurry. What’re you making anyway? Eggs?” 

“It’s oatmeal. I uh, didn’t have coffee so I grabbed the wrong dish. It’ll be fine, just slather some jam on there, it’ll be fine,” she reassures herself. Arthur looks away and shuts his eyes, he could have sworn whatever the eldritch menace in the pot is certainly isn’t oatmeal.

“Looks fine,” Arthur lies. 

“I just had a look in the news and I read some comet’s supposed to pass earth around this month!” Mary gushes. “I’ve heard they’re so pretty.”

“It’d be nice to get out with you again, Mary. We ain’t done anything since…” Arthur trails off. 

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking of. I think near that decrepit old ranch would be nice, there’s lots of open space and the view is just gorgeous.”

“Sure.” Frankly it sounds rather romantic, but he doesn’t dare get his own hopes up. She’d been so kind to him, despite the situation.  If only it could be anything more. 

“So, if we head out around eight, I think we should head out on foot this time. I think it should be safe, no bears or anything.” she twirls around, her skirt hits his shin ever so gently. She stands on her toes and steals a kiss from his lips. She finds one of the jars and quickly pops it open. Arthur nods and moves the pot from the hot stove.

“Ain’t you energetic?” he begins shoveling the odd food onto plates, unsure of whether to add  knives and forks or spoons to go beside them. 

“Well, I’d just like to spend some time with you again. It’s lonely out there, on your own,” she slaps a spoonful of their sweet jelly on the chunks, trying to mask it. She steadily adds more. Arthur grabs his plate before she can add more. 

“Thank you.” Mary stops a spoonful later. The two sit down again. 

A look of slight discontent spreads across her features as she prods at the clumps, mashing the jam in with her spoon. The first rays of sunlight twinkle in her dark eyes, a murky orange glow peeks through her lashes. Her lower lid moves ever so slightly, the soft lines around her eyes cast gentle shadows,, her soft crows feet twitch as she takes a bite of the food. She couldn’t be more perfect, she couldn’t possibly be prettier, she couldn’t be any more wonderful and… god, I love her, I love her more than anything, more than anyone. If only.

“I was thinkin’ I’ll go down to the post again today, see if Hosea’s written back yet.”

“Could you check if Jamie wrote back too? They’re getting graded again right about now, they should be getting them back and I want to see how he did this time.”

“Sure, you need anything from the store?” Arthur asks. The porridge isn’t that bad, just weird looking. There’s too much jam to his liking. 

“I’d just like the letter, thank you. Oh, there should be some mint around there too!” She notes After a period of silence, she speaks up again.. “Y’know, back in the day I used to be pretty good at finding herbs. Whatever the cattle hadn’t stomped was always good, used to be that we’d dry them out to be eaten.” “You mind pickin’ some then?”

 “If we even find any.” 

“It’s high time I get moving then, if we ever wanna get out there on time,” Arthur stands up, picking up their empty plate. Mary brings hers to the sink as well. Arthur quickly kisses her again before he steps out. 

Arthur rides out to the post, taking his time. The autumn air was unusually warm that day. The ride passes by slowly as he enjoys the fading summer sun.

There were a few letters at the post office, this time . He didn’t often get mail, but this time was different. Mary got one from Jamie, Arthur got one from Hosea, another from John and one from Albert Mason, a photographer he ran into a bit ago. As he checks through the letters, Charles enters. 

“Arthur, hey! Haven’t seen you in a while,” he pulls Arthur out of his thoughts. 

“Charles. Yeah, been busy with somethin’. How’ve ya been?”

“Same as before, been trying to find you around.”

“Figure we should catch up some time. You think we could go hunting some time tomorrow, catch up?”

“Sure. But I gotta get moving now, got someone to meet in town.”

“I'll see you at the ol' spot in the mornin' then?”

“Yeah, sure.”

*****

The sun is hardly touching the horizon when Arthur arrives home, yet he can already see the ceramic pot steaming on the stove.

“Ain’t it a bit early for dinner?” 

“Figured since we're heading out we should eat early. I’m not letting you slip on eating, you’re too thin as is.” She rubs his cheek. His heart skips a bit. I love you.

She notices the letters in his hands, he picks out the one from Hosea, eyeing it as if it were a trap. “Who’s that from?”

“Hosea.” Arthur sits down and tears it open. His eyes scan the text, his expression shifting from concern to an amused chuckle. 

“What is it then?” she asks from the stove. 

“John got some girl knocked up in town, I did tell ya about John?”

She thought for a while before shaking her head, “Don't think so. What about him?”

Arthur shakes his head, as if in disapproval, though the mischievous grin on his face remains. “He's been heading to the bathhouse a lot. 'm pretty sure Dutch was still alive the last time he took a bath. Apparently a girl there caught his eye and, well, now little Johnny Marston's gonna be a pa.”

She lifts her eyebrows, surprised, “Oh? Send my congratulations to them then.”

“Nah, don't think John's too happy about it,” he says, folding the paper and shoving it into one of the drawers. “'sea wants me to have a talk with him later. Oh, and here's Jamie's letter”

“Thanks,” she says, carefully tearing the envelope open.

He observes her face as she scans the letter. A small smile creeps up her face. Insignificant as it is, her joy is contagious to him. “How’s the boy doing?”

“Did pretty well in his first test; he joined some club in school too. I’m glad he’s finally making more friends.”

“Good for him,” he shakes the strap of the satchel off his shoulder. “Meanwhile I have my brat of a brother.”

“Oh come on Arthur, he’s just a kid. I guess he just ain't ready to be a dad.”

“Him? A kid? Nah, he may be a manchild but he's a grown man, whether he likes it or not.”

“How old is he even?”

“20 or so. I know, barely older than Jamie, but ain’t no kid. He messes around, he gotta deal with the consequences.”

“I guess,” she shrugs, going back to work at the counter. “Poor girl though. What is he gonna do then?”

“Somethin’ dumb most probably. He is John.” 

“He ain’t gonna leave them is he?”

“He wouldn’t do somethin’ like that. Think ‘Sea’s pushin’ him to marry her now.” “Well I guess that’s good then, she ain’t just gettin’ left in the dust.” she sighs, measuring out some salt. 

“Figure this is the dumbest thing he’s pulled in years. You’re lucky Jamie ain’t like that.”

“That boy's done his fair share of stupid stuff too, believe me.”

“Do I dare ask?” Arthur asks with a chuckle.

“C’mon now Arthur, ain’t like every kid can go running around like John.” Mary scoffs. “Why, it’ll be getting dark soon, we should get movin’ after eating if we wanna catch anything.”

“You got anythin’ else planned?”

“Not really.”

“How do you even pick out them constellations?”

“Well you have to look at em or have someone else point ‘em out. I figure I could make something up too.”

“Y’know, back in the bad old days ‘sea used to teach me about the stars. Thing is he doesn’t know a damn thing about them and there ain’t no thing called an Aphana star or a wolf constellation.”

“Oh, but there is! It’s actually called the Lupus constellation and it should be in view in June!”

“Welp. I think it was back in the winter though, any idea if it’s visible then?”

“Nope.”

“Hosea’s got a way with bullshitting anyway, ain't a surprise. Should’ve asked Dutch, he’d’ve known.”

“What did Dutch know then?”

“Something about astrology, how stars are s’pposed to affect how people are.” 

“Hm? Horoscopes?”

“That, yeah. Think he got over it once he got to Marx.”

“Marx? Karl Marx?”

“You know him?”

“I’ve heard of him.”

“Dutch wouldn’t goddamn shut up about him for a year, least it was better than the Greek phase.”

“Greek phase? This Dutch guy was into a lot of stuff huh.”

“All kinds of it, but none of them ever lasted.” Arthur grumbles as he sets the table, the memory of Dutch bringing a faint smile to his face.  

She carefully fills the bowl with scoops of stew, filled with chunks of meat and carrots, and waits for them to cool down before placing them on the table. She sits down next to him as he sends the spoon into his mouth.

It doesn't taste too bad, the broth is flavourful and well seasoned, but the meat is  tough, probably overcooked. 

“How is it?”

“Tastes like rubber,” he teases, laboring his teeth through the meat.

“That's what Barry said. Unfortunately the poor guy didn’t live to tell the tale.”

He raises his eyebrow at her rather dark joke, “What, you're gonna poison me too?” 

 “Well if I am you would have tasted something, my dear,” she jokes. Arthur chuckles and shakes his head.

“True that. Tastes fine though, you’ve improved.” 

“Thank you, means a lot from someone who’s clearly burnt out his taste buds.”

He quickly empties his bowl, despite his complaints. She is still eating as he drops his bowl in the sink.

“Gonna pack for the night, you mind doin' the dishes?” he says, putting on his hat as he unlocks the door.

*****

She potters around the home, gathering things, excitement painted on her face, the kind of innocent glee he had grown to adore. He grabs the bedrolls from where he had put them. Her’s seems rather worn and dirty, something he’d rather take. She’d get cold far more easily anyway. Mary paces into the room, grabbing something from the closet. 

“C’mon then! It’s really perfect timing, new moon and all!”

“Comin’”, he answers. “Gonna saddle up Boadicea. You grab something warmer, s’a little chilly tonight.”

She raises an eyebrow, “Oh, now you’re nagging me?”

He shakes his head, though not exactly in denial, “Like you ain’t always cold.”

“None of your coats fit me— here, take this,” she shoves a wool blanket into his arms. “Besides, I know you’ll keep me warm.”

“ ‘ppose we don't need this then,” he gestures to the blanket in his hands.

“Guess we don’t. You’re enough for me.” 

His heart skips a beat. He knows all too well that it's only a joke, but to think that he would ever be enough for someone like her… he would never be enough, but, if she really thinks so…

Her voice pulls him out of his stupor, “We better hurry up.”

“Sure,” he mutters, once again leaving the house to load the bundles in his arms onto Boadicea. Making sure that she has brought her compass and matches— even though Arthur has probably got these in his satchel, he's always prepared for everything— she throws a scarf over her shoulder and swiftly ties it around her neck, a simple makeshift cloak to protect her from the cold, before stepping out to join him.

****

The spot she mentioned isn't too far away, and they have got themselves settled in no time. She gathers some errand branches for firewood as he sets up the tent.

Arthur joins her around the fire once he is done. He watches as she gazes into the flames, the light of the fire dancing on her face.

“When did it happen, the thing with John?” Mary asks.

“Last week or so I guess. Why?”

“Well, I just keep thinkin’ about it. Ain’t really fair somethin’ like that could just happen,”

“Really ain’t. Don’t dwell on it too much, ain’t like things would change anyway.”

“I know. Y’know we used to try for kids plenty, Barry and I, and nothing ever came of it. He got sons already ‘n he always blamed me for it.”

Her expression is calm, yet Arthur still feels a needle poking at his heart upon her words. “Oh. Must’ve been a hell of a thing.” 

“I guess.” The air between them once again falls to silence, the only sound being the crackling of the fire and the occasional crinkling of the grass as the wind makes its way through their swaying stems. “Heh, well, lucky thing I s’ppose. Never felt more trapped than back then with him in that place.”

Arthur inches his hand ever closer to hers, placing it in her open palm. Perhaps it’s an attempt to comfort her when he lacks the words to do it in any other way. Her skin feels wonderfully soft on his fingertips, the calluses under a delicate silken layer. The warmth emanates from her palm, her fingers are rather cool to the touch. Each wrinkle in her palm imprints itself in his mind, the contour of the muscle operating her thumb, the tiny little scars from a million little accidents over years, burns, cuts, abrasions. 

He opens his mouth to say something, but once again nothing comes out.

She pulls him close, placing a kiss on his cheek. He can feel his cheeks reddening, and he knows for a fact that it isn't the heat from the fire. I love you. 

She pulls herself onto his lap again, her lips meet his. The soft tingling doesn’t last for long. Mary’s fingers slip into his hair as she lays him down. Arthur feels a pang of sadness as her hands trails down his torso to his crotch. It’s childish, really, hoping that she’d somehow miraculously return his feelings. It‘s just sex to her, he reminds himself, nothing else, nothing more.

Yet he leans into her, pulls her closer until skin meets skin, flesh is inside flesh, thoughts melt into lust.

Just as the fire within them is quenched by the wetness between their legs, the flames before them simmer to red coals. He bites his lip as she lazily rolls down beside him. They both take a moment to catch their breath, and she points up to a bright star as he throws a blanket over them. She sits up to grab her compass, before once again lying down with him.

“That there’s the north star, and try to connect these seven dots, see that ladle? That’s Ursa Minor, the little bear,” she says, trying to map out the constellations before them with her fingers. Arthur feels a smile spread across his face as she connects the stars. “Under it, there’s a bigger ladle– Ursa Major, his mother. Oh, and right next to them!” Mary whispers, leaning on Arthus’s shoulder to align their view, so that she can point out the stars for him more easily. “See that long trail of stars? That’s Draco.”

“Let me guess, it’s a dragon?”

“Good guess, mister. Oh, and look to  the south west, near the moon, see that really bright one near the horizon? That’s Venus.”

“Oh, I remember Dutch pointing that one out to me, and the red one, Mars, is it?”

“Think so, I can’t really see it though, if we’re lucky we might catch it around sunrise. You see the hexagon above it? That’s Ophiuchus, the snake bearer.”

“And the line across it s’the snake?”

“Yeah, oh, and right at the top is Cygnus, the swan.”

“It does look like a bird. And what about that one next to it, the bright one?

“I’m not too sure– think that one is lyra. A lyre, y’know?” “A liar? Now that I’m familiar with.” “No, the instrument! You pluck the string like a guitar– well, probably more like a harp. It belongs to this poet Orpheus.”

“S’that feller on the sky too?”

“No, don’t think he is– if anything he’s going underground.”

“What’d ya mean?” “You see, this Orpheus guy who sings so wonderfully, the god of music himself gave him his lyre…”

As he listens to her story, Arthur pulls out his journal to mark down the stars, connecting the lines and writing down the name of each constellation beside it. It’s a bit dark, but the light from the campfire is sufficient. 

“...and his song is so beautiful, it moves the king of the dead to tears. So, he agrees to let him and his wife go, on one condition: Eurydice must walk behind Orpheus, and he should not turn around on their way back, until they reach the mortal realm, and if he does, he’s going back to the mortal world alone.”

“That sounds too easy.”

“Things are always easier said than done.”

“He turns around?” “Yeah.”

“That’s dumb.”

“I s’ppose… but, I think I would’ve done the same.”

“Nah, that’s ridiculous, I’d never turn around if I was him.” “It’s a long way up, it’s dark and it’s cold, he can’t hear her footsteps and he can’t see her shadow, her being a ghost. We can’t blame him for doubtin’ if she’s really behind him.”

“He could have called her name if he’s in doubt.”

“Maybe he did and she called back, but he couldn’t hear her.”

“Even if so, he can, y’know, wait until they’re up above before turning around?”

“Well, yes, but doubt got the better of him.”

“Doubt, huh, ain’t no use doubting,” he grumbles as he flips to a new page of his journal. She chuckles, “Now that’s bold of you to say. Surely you won’t say that you’ve never doubted anything before?”

“Well, no, but I’m not letting it hold me back.”

“Can’t really say the same for me. And looking back, I don’t regret a single bit of it.”

“To each their own, I guess.”

“I guess. Oh! Look to the east, that’s Jupiter.”

“Which one?”

“The big one under the cluster of stars, you see it?”

“Oh, yeah,” Arthur replies, as he marks it down on the pages. “It’s right in the middle of Taurus, the bull.”

“Bull? Can’t see it.”

“See that cluster of stars? That’s Pleiades. That’s its body, And there’s the horn– here, I’ll mark it down for you,” she says, quickly outlining the shape of the bull in his journal.

“And what a coincidence– do you know Taurus is the bull that the god Jupiter turned into?”

More stars are mapped out and more stories are told,with the rising and falling of celestial bodies being the only sign of the passage of time, and despite it being well into the midnight hours, Arthur does not feel sleepy at all. To him, the night only seems to be passing too quickly. 

He steals another glance at her under the starlight. He can see her better now, despite the fading light from the embers, now that his vision has adjusted to the darkness. She looks just as beautiful as she does in the day under the daylight, her features looking all the more softer in the dim lighting. Suddenly he wishes– as silly as it is– that he can lie with her like this always, forever, until their bodies turn to bones, until the last star in the universe dies out.

“You see that board guy over there? Near Gemini?” her voice once again grasps her attention.

“What guy?” he asks, staring at the direction she is pointing towards. “You see those three bright stars? They mark his belt.” She grabs his hand and uses his finger to point out those stars for him. “And over there, that’s his bow. That’s Orion, he’s a hunter.”

“Think I see him now,” Arthur mutters, outlining the feller with his pencil.

“He kinda looks like ya, y’know, big and broad and all.” He lets out a small chuckle, “If you say so, ‘cept I don’t sparkle.”

“Right. Oh, and underneath! Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky other than Venus. It’s not fully out yet, but you can see half of Canis Major.”

“Let me guess, it’s a dog? The hunter guy’s dog?”

“Exactly, and you can see the rabbit running away from them…”

He can tell the sun is going to rise soon by the time the two finally settle down in their bedrolls, as the sky gradually changes from dark blue to pale purple. He pulls her over to the nicer bedroll before she has a chance to protest.

“I've got my own bed,” she says, though she slips under the sheets with him regardless.

“It's old 'n dirty, 'sides, we fit pretty well here don't we?”

“Hm, it's cozy enough,” she mutters mindlessly,  resting her head right above his heart. She can hear his heart speeding up the second she lays her hand on the other side of his chest, but pays it little mind.

A small smile blooms across his face as she yawns, she's kind of adorable like this, soft, docile, her usual defensiveness vanished into the night.

“You're so warm…” she mumbles, right before falling asleep, “I can hold you forever like this.”

Please do, it is the last thought he has before he, too, falls into slumber.

****

Arthur heads out shortly after they went home, only to return with another man an hour later. The two are engaged in a discussion as she steps back in, putting down the basket of clean  clothes in the corner. Seeing another person in the house is a strange feeling, her heart frantically jumps around her chest. They both look up, she feels she should just run off. Surely he’d recognize her, he’d know, everyone did, he’d instantly know and now she’s trapped in a house-

“Mary, was expectin’ you. Charles Smith, Mary Linton.” She reaches to shake his hand, the two make brief eye contact and engage in the courtesy.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Smith.” she greets, the man nods in response. She steps around the room and looks at them both. The two connected rooms offer little privacy and stepping out would be rather rude. 

“C’mon, sit with us,” Arthur invites her over. She sits by him and notices the cups of coffee on the table. There was a chip on one of the cups, a large one. The silence is broken by him yet again. “This is the feller I was tellin’ you about, we ain’t met in a while.”

Charles and Mary look at each other in silence and then glance back at Arthur. “And this is Mary, figure you read about her in the papers a bit ago.” Shut up, Arthur, just shut up. Please.

“Think I did. Arthur didn’t tell me about this situation.”

“Well, i-it’s not really a thing that should get out, in case someone hears, you see.” Mary excuses. Charles shoots a look at Arthur, silently shaming him for every single choice that led up to this. He had caught on the moment she stepped in. The two pillows on the bed, the little stitched on details and his neatened up appearance. A thing Charles hadn’t before noticed was the degree of his idiocy, apparently. 

Arthur notices her stilted mannerisms and places his hand on her hand under the table. 

“Why then?”

“ ‘s hard to explain,” Arthur squeezes her hand. She gently squeezes back.

“Ain’t really. We share a bed.”

“Oh.”  

Arthur chats with the man for a while, before the two get up to leave. Charles raises an eyebrow at him as he pulls a jacket on, questioning the whole situation. He eyes the strange lady observing them. 

“You wanna come with us?” Arthur asks, it snaps her out of her trance. 

“Well, I won’t be of much help or company. ‘Sides, I have things to do, you go on ahead darlin’,” Mary stands up as they step out. 

Darlin’.

Arthur pauseos at the door, turning back to look at her, their eyes meet as she steps forth. The door clolpsllles, the9ootttotototo to to tttttt  the 9brief moment ends as the door clicks shut. Arthur lets out a breath he only now realizes he had held in for the time. Something was missing, he thinks, but shakes the thought away.

Should have goddamn kissed her.

He gathers his thoughts for a moment and steps back to meet the younger man. 

“What’s going on with you, Arthur?” Charles asks. 

“Nothin’, nothin’,” Arthur denies, turning away. Charles furrows his brow. 

“At this rate I’d have guessed you married her.” His tone is only half joking.

“Huh.” he feels a flush creep up his face at the thought. It’s a silly, soft  thought but… that damned woman seemed to some strange aura about her. She wouldn’t ever, never in a million years even consider it would she, not with me. Fool.

“As a matter of fact ‘m hurt ya didn’t tell me.”

“Ain’t like that, Charles. She ‘n I ain’t involved like that, she’s got her own things goin’ on and she’ll probably leave me any day now.”

“Is that so?” Charles casts him a strange look as they walk into the woods, “I’ve never seen you act like that with anybody.”

Arthur sighs, he can’t help but be ashamed of these…stupid feelings, but it would probably do him good to let it out. It’s just Charles, ain’t like he will judge him for it.

“Well I do like her a bit, she’s been living with me for a while and she…she’s been real nice to me, y’know.”

“…I can tell,” Charles mutters, recalling in terror the way the two looked at each other. “Thought you were tracking her down just a while ago, and now you’re living with her?”

“Long story short, she saved my life, I owed her one, and she needed a place to hide so, we ended up sharing a roof.”

“And you said you like her?”

“Yeah?”

“Arthur,” Charles stops in his tracks, turning to look at him. “She killed her husband.”

“Yeah, that. That feller was a bastard, a child rapist. Can you blame her for that?”

Charles sighs, he can see the reason behind that woman’s action, if what she claimed was true, that is, but he sure can’t see any logic behind Arthur’s thought process. “Still. Of course she’d put him in a bad light in her story.”

“Even if she did lie to me it ain’t like I haven’t murdered anyone before. C’mon, let’s get going,” he urges.

“Fair enough. She does seem sweet on you, gotta say.”

“You really think so?” Arthur asks, his tone almost hopeful.

“That she’s sweet on you? Yeah. I’m guessing she’s why your den finally looks like a house now?”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s been a great housemate.”

Charles wants to point out that housemate seems like an odd choice of word given the way they interact, but he does not comment.“ ‘m glad to hear that, but still, be careful.”

“C’mon, if she’s going to kill me she would’ve done it weeks ago. Enough about me, how have ya been?”

“Same old. There's this beekeeper who moved near me a few weeks ago and his little army has been bothering me ever since. Nothing interesting beside that, really. How’re you two getting on?”

“A beekeeper? Never would’ve guessed voluntarily keep ‘em.”

“Mm, yeah, all sorts of folk out there. What’s she been doing in this time?”

“They live out near the fields? Saw a bunch of flowers there, seems like a nice place for ‘em.”

“Heard there was someone new in town sellin’ knitted things ‘n embroidery”

“Yup. Does he get stung by ‘em often?” “Is it her?”

“Yup, so, how’re you two gettin’ on, other than that?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hm? Means what I said it meant.” Arthur shrugs. 

“Hosea told me you were harbourin’ an outlaw, said it like it had passed. When’s she gonna be gone?” Charles dodges the subject.

“Hope not soon. Charles, I… I think I love her.”

A look of disapproval spreads across the other man's face. “I’m not gona do anythin’ about it, it’d… it’d be dumb.”

“C’mon, Arthur, I can see that, but I don't wanna see you get hurt. Might just be best to let her go.”

Arthur sighs heavily. 

“I know, I know. S’gonna hurt anyway. Enough about her, you said you saw a stag ‘round here earlier?”

*******

“Oh, you guys are back,” Mary says, emptying a can of beans into the steaming pot.

“Yeah,” says Arthur, swinging off his satchel to hang it behind the door. “Watcha makin’?” He asks, looking over her shoulders. 

“Just put together what I could find, we’re running low,” she says, stirring the mixture of beans, mushrooms, and potatoes. “And nice to see you again Mr. Smith,” she greets as the other man lays down several bundles wrapped in paper on the table.

“Charles’ fine,” he replies. Mary only hums in response.

“Yer staying for dinner?” Arthur asks. Mary secretly hopes he would refuse, not because she dislikes Arthur’s friend. In fact, she finds him a pretty nice feller, but it is just so awkward and unnatural, especially with Arthur being so at ease and Charles being clearly as uneasy as her.

Charles merely shrugs, “Sure.”

“What have you guys got?” she asks, sprinkling some salt over the pot.

“Just some rabbits. What’d ya say if we roast ‘em?”

“I’m fine with it.” Arthur nods as he grabs a knife to skin the rabbits. 

“Need any help?” Charles offers.

“No, it’s fine, you’re the guest,” Arthur says.

“A guest? You’re talking like I’m a stranger,” Charles jokes as he sets himself down at the table, slightly more relaxed now.

“You come here often, Mr Smith?” Mary asks, trying to break the awkwardness.

“I used to.”

“Oh?” Mary puts the lid over the pot, before walking over to pour a glass of water for Arthur, then another for Charles. He silently thanks her with a nod.

“Well, then you came.” Suppose Arthur doesn’t want anyone interrupting you two. Charles thinks, though he knows better than to say it out loud.

Mary freezes, trying to think of the implication behind his statement. There is not a single bit of repulsion in his tone, yet his words make her feel like an intruder. She wonders if that’s what she is to his friends and family, someone uninvited, a hindrance to Arthur’s life. They won’t be wrong, she thinks, she has been nothing but a dependent with little contribution.

“I won’t be disturbing him for long,” she explains. “He’s been a great host, but I’d hate to bother him for any longer. I’ll be out of here as soon as I can, right Arthur?”

A sharp metal cling tears through the room before her words fall. Mary turns around and finds that Arthur has dropped the knife.

“…Arthur? Are you alright?”

He shakes his head out of his trance. “Yeah, am fine, my hand just slipped.”

She picks up the knife for him before returning to the stove. Charles watches as Arthur ties a string onto the rabbits.

A silent sigh escapes him. His face falls, the happiness sucked away by those words. 

“You alright?”

“ ‘m fine,” he shakily picks the knife up. “These’ll be good.” he smiles, a weakness hidden behind those words. 

Charles smiles back, pitying the other man.

Fine. Fine! Completely fine. Just like she’s with leaving. FINE.

“Hey, well. I hope you two had fun out there, the weathers been fine all week!” she continues. FINE, FINE, EVERYTHING’S JUST GODDAMN FINE.

“Could have used you out there too,” Charles tries to break the tension. He notices his friend's hand tighten around the knife. He places a hand on his shoulder and notices the tension in his muscles.

He snakes his hand onto Arthurs and gently places the knife on the table. 

“What?” Arthur asks, confused.

“Nothin'. You're done with this, right? I'll take it to wash.”

“Oh, yeah, alright.” Arthur says. Charles drops it at the sink while Arthur kneels down before the fireplace, hanging the rabbits over the pile of logs.

Charles sits back down at the table. He notices how Arthur is still kneeling on the floor, despite having finished his work. He doesn't comment.

Arthur finally breaks out of his haze as Mary turns around, leaving the steaming pot behind. “Yer done?”

“Not yet, gotta let it simmer for a while,” she mutters, grabbing the unfinished needlework on the table. Charles immediately recognises it as Arthur's neckerchief. Huh.

Arthur brushes the ashes off his hands on his pants. “S'gonna take these at least an hour to cook too.”

“I hope you boys are not too hungry then,” says Mary, as she sits down at the edge of the bed, disappearing from their view.

“I can wait,” Charles says. Arthur casts the bedroom door another glance before sitting himself down at the table, opposite to the other man. 

“So, what have you been up to, other than getting all enamored and stuff?” Charles asks with a whisper. Arthur really has been a stranger lately. He can sense something has changed in him during the past few months. Though Charles can't really tell what it is, he knows Mrs Linton and Arthur's…feelings for her, have to be the reason for it.

“Eh, nothing much, just the old stuff.”

“Y'know, your house really looks a lot nicer now.”

“Yeah, like I said she's a great housekeeper.”

“You look a lot better than before too, you know that right?”

“Do I?” Arthur gives him a funny look. “How?”

“Hard to say, but at least you don't like you're gonna die in a week anymore.”

“That's a real nice compliment coming from ya,” Arthur chuckles. 

“I mean it, you look way happier than before.”

He shrugs, “S'ppose the extra company does me good.”

“...company, huh?”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“So, you said you've got a new neighbor?”

“Yeah, a Jason Brown or something like that. I forgot his name and it'd be too strange to ask at this point.”

“Why? Just say you haven't got his last name or something.”

“Guess I should try that.”

“You said he keeps bees?”

“Yeah, he's given me a jar of honey a while ago. He's a pretty nice feller. His herd, not quite.”

“What'd they do?”

“They were supposed to be heading to the apple farm nearby— he mentioned something about them being pollinators and him having got a fund from the owner— but they kept heading to my house to bug me.”

“You ever got stung?”

“A couple times. Didn't even do anything to them.”

“Huh, what about that Jason feller?”

“Not as far as I know. I've seen him work from a distance before. They seemed to let him do whatever he wanted to their hive. He was wearing this net thing over his head though.” Their conversation is interrupted by Mary shuffling through, she grabs her needles. Arthur’s expression falls again, his gaze follows her out, an odd type of sadness masked behind his eyes. 

**** 

The two men step out, Charles pats Taima’s neck in greeting, the mare nickers as he grabs her reins. 

“Hope you’ll be comin’ back some time soon.” Arthur steps closer to the horse.

“Sure. You sure you’ll be alright, Arthur?” Charles asks, swinging his leg over the horse. 

Arthur laughs. “ ‘course I’ll be. Just a crush is all, no reason to worry.”

“You sure?”

“Who do ya think I am? She’ll be out ‘before you’re back, it’ll… pass.” he hesitates on the word. 

Charles nudges the appaloosa to a trot and leaves, glancing back at the other man, left standing in the dust. Arthur turns his gaze to the window and catches a peek at her, sitting there, working hard on another one of her projects. She tilts her head and her eye twitches. 

She’ll be gone soon, she’ll be gone and there isn’t a damn thing I can do.

Arthur steps back inside and she springs up from the spot, tying off two treads and snipping them as she steps over. She pulls him down and ties a black scrap of fabric around his neck. It wasn’t what she was working on before, he notices. 

“Did your friend leave?” she asks. Arthur nods as she adjusts it around his neck. “ ‘m glad to see you ain’t a real hermit just a, hm, a hermit of opportunity.”

“Can’t be a real one with ya here.” he forces a chuckle. “ ‘sides, ain’t fun like that, I don’t mind the company.”

“He'll be coming over again soon?”

“Dunno, maybe, why, do you want him to?”

“Not really.”

He gives out an airy laugh, “Oh, he'll definitely be hurt if he hears that.”

“No, not what I meant. He's a nice feller, but it's just a little bit strange with someone else here y'know?”

“What'd ya mean?”

“Guess I'm just used to being alone with you.”

A warm feeling blooms across his chest. Could she really enjoy being here with him?

Arthur swallows, calm down, she just said she was used to it. It doesn't mean anything.

“Huh, thought you'd be getting sick of my face by now.”

“Probably would have if you weren't so handsome.” 

Suddenly he doesn't know where he should be looking at, and his hands feel awkward hanging besides his hips, but he doesn't know where to put them. He looks away, hoping she isn't able to see his flushed cheeks under the dim light.

“Flatterer,” he mumbles. She smiles and stands on her tiptoes to give his cheek. He has never told her, but it's his favorite way to be kissed; quick, chaste, but sweeter and more intimate than any other kiss. He can almost close his eyes and pretend it's a gesture of something more than mere habitual affection.

He realizes he's still standing at the door while she has already sat down at the edge of the bed, folding her outer clothes. He slowly makes his way towards the room to join her.

“He's not gonna visit for a while. We'll be getting plenty of alone time,” he says, playing with her hair, which she has just let down. Her curls fall onto her shoulders adorning the outline of her face. He twirls a strand around his index finger, feeling its smooth silkiness.

“Good, more fun with just you and I here, isn't it?” 

“How so?” he asks with a knowing smile. The eager hands prying his collar open and the wild kiss that follows it are the only answers his need.

[marune2]

Dating simp Au some of my black clover oc’s

What if my oc’s were in a dating simp ver

((Did read 12hours ikemen vampire fanfic today I need help))+I didn’t play the game and don’t know the story but the fanfic were nice plus I love it’s canon this saint Germain is a singel dad of vampire man‘s😂did see pictures of the game😂

———————————

Heinrich Faust :(if Lucifugus is death)

Is a mystery guy he would make Kommentar’s in the beginning and is a singel dad

As you go in he’s story line you learn ow broken he is and it’s you need to help him but he well try to help you first

Is a romantic lover he would talk sweetly to you and would go in body contact whit you he would open the wold to you

Would be the bottom of your dispar of love

Ida Faust :

Spicy deangerus lover

Ida is a Wilde type and mystery to and is aggressive

Would open flirt whit you and offensive in the beginning but as think’s get seriously she get’s shy and lovely but spicy

Her devil part make the spicy part because she is possessive and protective she would bite you maximal but never hurt you ok just if your make love to show other she love’s you

Her story line is dark and sad and you would discover how broken she is but it’s you job to Fell her loved and vole again

Gabriel silver

Aggressiv lover Type

In he’s story line you need to help him whit he’s curse and emotion whit time you become lover and he will protect you and mürder every deanger to you

Is a surprisingly fine felling lover if you make it’s seriously he hear what you say and kiss you if you in pain

Cucurucho terway

Puppy lover would you think but is a mystery to you

In he’s (her) story line you help to finde cucurucho self as a guy to a girl because she will marry you or make love plus she grow up in a cult

Is a lovely lover so new in love and excited to know what you like and gifting you useful stuff and sweet and flowers and would kiss you a lot and tell you how cucurucho love’s you dearly

Cucurucho would looking after you all the time even out of the shadow’s

Johan Faust

Puppy lover but real

Is a cute boy wo you would kill for in he’s story line you help him to accept himself as a devil and this he will love even as one

Is a cute lover but holy shit is he spicy whit you if you are alone do stuff he would let’s you ask him how he’s body functioning an do stuff for you

He is open minded but not a air head he know this bad stuff happened but would hide it

He will protect you whit all he can

[tripleflames]

“Wait—uh—do…do that again.”

smut dialogue prompts / @secondflame

Theodore oft wonders about and even questions the strange twists and turns his life seems to have taken of late. Becoming a dominant, having to grapple with that power, the strength of Leviathan's emotions and instincts on top of his own, the fact that his eikon and Clive's eikon somehow have a deep enough history, a romantic one at that, it's made being around the other man a lot more complicated than it already was considering his crush.

Well― at least complicated up until recently.

If there is one turn in his life he'll not question, he thinks, it would be this one.

His mouth drag a lazy path down Clive's throat to chase the flush that's slowly spreading from his cheeks down to his chest, delighting in the way Clive's pulse jumps beneath his tongue, the soft whimper it draws from parted lips, the way Clive shudders beneath him, muscles of his abdomen clenching beneath the touch of Theodore's palms as he slowly runs his hands up and down Clive's side.

He's so fucking reactive, it is honestly addictive. Heady also, to know he's the first one to draw these noises from the other man, to coax these kinds of reactions out of him. The first to find out what exactly will have Clive tense up, what will have him shudder and moan, which touches will have his eyes glaze over with arousal and full lips part on desperate, hitched breaths, what needs doing to get him to relax.

He's finding out things about himself too, at that. He'd never thought he would be happy simply kissing someone as an event in and of itself, without it necessarily leading to something more. That was before Clive came into the habit of crowding him against walls or shadowed corners to do just that; like he somehow couldn't get enough now that he'd gotten a taste of how much he likes it. Theodore doesn't think he's ever been this fucking charmed by anyone's eagerness to kiss him and naught else, given that each one of those occasions left him deeply aroused and in need of several cold baths.

And this foreplay. Dragging it out rather than racing to the main event. Theodore never much had the patience for it, too quickly frustrated with arousal and need. With Clive, however, he thinks he could likely do this for hours on end. Map out the span of his body with hands and lips just to find all the spots that will turn him wild.

" You are so beautiful, " He murmurs against the crook of Clive's jaw, kissing it gently when he hears his lover whimper at the praise. " So good for me. " He feels rather than sees Clive pull at the sheets as he shudders anew, hips bucking up slightly, the brief friction making Theo bite down on his bottom lip with a firm reminder he's trying to take this slow lest he overwhelm Clive completely.

He moves his hands up, bracing himself with one arm so he can look down at Clive's face, fingers brushing his bangs back from his forehead ere carding through those dark, tousled strands of hair. Hazy blue eyes flutter open and look at Theo with naked want, leaving Theodore slightly breathless ( again ) at the sheer beauty of his lover. If he had trouble looking away from him before―

His thumb gently brushes over one of Clive's hardened nipples. The reaction is instantaneous. Theo's eyes widen at Clive's startled moan, at the way he tenses and shudders beneath him, hips stuttering on another roll. Blue eyes roll up, lashes fluttering shut and Theodore will likely dream about this moment for quite some nights because fuck―

He doesn't need to be asked twice when Clive's gaze snaps to him, tone almost shy, bashful, like he's embarrassed by his own reaction, for wanting more of it.

Theodore leans in to catch Clive's lips in a brief, but tender kiss, smiling into it when his lover immediately surges up and into it. He hovers close, smiling wider at the way Clive squirms when his thumb rubs a slow circle around the same nipple without really touching it. " And how would you like me to? With my fingers, like before or― my mouth? "

[flyingtomyneverland]

lips like lemon cake - sharing a dessert with your lover and... tasting it from their lips -

--> summary: gn!reader x diluc. sharing a dessert with diluc ragnvindr, scenario, romantic fluff, kisses

--> reader and character are in an established relationship

word count: 4533

tw: none

it's those evenings you wish to hold so dearly in your heart, that it almost hurts to think that one day even this memory shall be forgotten.

it's those evenings that are utterly and whimsically unique. in an indescribably exciting way, heart leaping and stomach dancing - that can only be shared between two lovers.

it's those evenings, with diluc ragnvindr.

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on one of those evenings, you settled on a wooden bench near the dawn winery, far enough so that no one may disturb you. if it weren't for the sparse, yellow-gold light of the small lanterns, the shadows would hide both your faces in the darkness. but on this evening, which soon turned into this night, he is - the warm curl of his lips, the way his fiery red locks fall over his shoulder, the expression of his eyes as they wander over the night - all for you, only for you.

you hold a delicate porcelain plate - all for you - a piece of lemon cake, which you had prepared thinking of diluc.

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" try it. ", you whisper softly after a while of pleasant silence, directing his gaze from the vineyard back to you. and there it is- the little flame in his eyes, which lets your heart flutter like the little crystal fly's wings above you.

" after you. ", he leans towards you, his fingers ghosting over the edge of the plate, but you have already taken the fork in your hand, holding it in front of his lips.

" i made it thinking of you. ", you confess and move closer to him. " please have the first bite. "

how could he possibly resist this heartwarming request and the sweet sight of you under the starry sky?

his soft, enviably rosy lips enclose the piece and you cant help but notice the little bit of whipped cream that sticks to his bottom lip. his lips curve upwards and you are rewarded with a warm smile.

" you made that for me? "

nervously, you watch his reaction. fingers shaking slightly. " is it... to your liking? ", you ask cautiously. diluc reaches for your hand, his wrapping around yours, holding you tightly.

diluc's breath gently escapes his mouth- akin to a soft sigh. " y/n.", warm fingers brush over yours as he takes the fork from your hand, leaving behind tingling shivers. he leans in further, your noses touch and you feel your heart skip at the loving touch.

your breath catches as he meets your lingering gaze. even after all the time, you are still not used to the way he manages to take your breath away. you nod slowly. " i wasn't certain if sour things suited your taste - so i just... well, if you don't- i don't mind, you can tell me. "

" it is exquisite. "

your heart warms at that.

" truly? it's not too..."

"... it's perfect.", his words are quietly spoken- the way his mouth smoothly moves is almost hypnotic - before his other hand rests on the back of your head. the feeling of his teasing fingers trailing down your neck surprises you, your eyes widen as diluc pulls you closer, sweet breath fawning over your lips.

" how about i give you a taste? ", he speaks, almost absently. your heart races as his gaze falls on your lips and- is that a winning smile gracing his handsome features? had he planned this all along?

" i would like that.", you say, warmth filling you up to your fingertips.

as diluc pulls away, he leaves you behind with flushed cheeks and the urge to run your tongue over your lip.

a small, deep chuckle. there's not enough time for you to process how ridiculously beautiful the sound of his rich voice is. his lips press against yours and your heart leaps like a young bird. at first, it is as if pure warmth envelops you all around and all you smell is him. him, the comforting, secure scent of fresh grapes and old leather. and then, as his hand relaxes and spreads on the back of your neck, he was commanding your lips to open and you willingly let him as he skimmed his tongue over the inner part of your lip and you feel like you might faint as slowly but unmistakably, the sweet sour taste of lemon and sugar creeps in.

" well - have i convince you of this magnificent flavor? ", you look at him and suddenly you have to giggle, hands on his chest.

" i wouldn't mind if your lips always tasted like lemon cake."

he joins in your laughter.

" mhm, i see. i suggest then we try that again, my dear? "