#holy moly this was really something

[unreal-unread]

Gone Girl – 5/5 ⭐

Boy meets girl. Girl disappears, assumed to have been murdered. Boy is the prime suspect, except: He didn’t do it. But someone clearly wants it to look like he did. So, where is his girl?

1/15/25

(Progress: 30%)

I fucking hate Nick Dunne. No buts. 

That man should kill himself never be any role model for anyone. 

I know this happens. I know people cheat. But, sue me, I don't care why he cheated, I don't care if he thought he was alone. Before this, I didn’t like him. But it was more about not caring about him, seeing his earlier depiction of his personality contrast so harshly with what a cheating asshat he seems to be. 

to quote a row of texts I sent to my friend earlier today when the memory of the new information in the book still stung and made my prefrontal cortex shrivel to half its size:

12:47 i wanna kill the protagonist of the book i’m reading

12:47 for real

12:47 i hate him

12:47 #NickDunneOnTheCross2025

Excuse my violent religious imagery, I really don't know why this passage about him cheating hit me so much. Even though I could puke and keel over at the thought of Nick cheating on Amy with a much younger woman (I don't know where all these detailed images come from), I have no idea why this plot point bothered me so insanely. You have no idea. Maybe it’s just been a long time since a book has managed to give me the emotional equivalent of a stabbing with a dull knife but still right in the heart, just weirdly twisting the thing inside my guts to do as much damage with it (imagery!! oh my god!!) but this? Am I afraid to end up like Amy or like the mistress? Both only loved to a limited capacity? By the same man who could not give less of a fuck about a woman if she isn’t his super cool dudette Bitchass Twin Sister? Am I mad? Can you really tell? Update later. Can’t right now. Need to figure out why men say they like feminine women but whine when they order an espresso martini and dont shotgun five bud lights stacked on top of each other. But if you have parents who name you Nick and Go, which sounds like a damn pickpocketing technique now that I think about it, I too would get my attention elsewhere or maybe open a bar with a name about as creative as the band “The The”. 

1/16/25

(Progress: 32%)

Never mind. I don't actually hate his sister because she called him out on his BS at the end of the chapter. She’s so real for that.

1/17/25

(Progress: 100%)

Okay. Fucking hell. What? 

Looking back on my remarks at about 30% I almost feel silly. I‘m assuming that this trajectory of emotions — confusion, anger, more anger, realization, anger-infused confusion — was exactly what Flynn wanted, and it almost feels disappointing that I fell right into the trap and followed that exact path. But: That also means I experienced this book how it was meant to be experienced! Even though by the end I wasn’t sure why all I’d ever hear about it had to do with the “Cool Girl Monologue”. I mean, her multiple page-ramble about chili-dog-overenthusiastic women was fun to read, but by far not the most important or most impressive of it all. (I did post an underlined passage of this part on my instagram story, the same way you’d tell people your favourite song from The Bends is Just, not because it actually is — it’s actually a close call between Planet Telex and Black Star — but because it’s more likely they know it and all you care about is conveying “Hey, I like this!” by letting them know you like listening to Thom Yorke whine while lying on the floor. No individual song, or, in this case, book passage differentiation needed. The difference isn’t as gaping as it is between people whose favourite Metallica song is The Call of Ktulu and Nothing Else Matters. End of rant. Closing the parentheses now.) 

Fun fact: The last half of this book had me in an insane chokehold. I came back home from the dentist, half of my mouth anesthetized and everything, an accidental devious smirk gracing my lips every time I try to smile, and I sat down in an armchair, started reading, and the next time I got up I had both finished the book and inadvertently waited out the anesthesia. Life hack time: if your mouth is numb but you're hungry and seriously debate eating a roll despite probably biting raw the entire inside of your cheek while doing it, just inhale 300 pages of an amazingly insane character and her asshat victim hubby. 

In the span of a month, Nick Dunne goes from “Where’s my pretty princess of a wife? Anyone seen her? Hey, this ottoman’s kinda heavy.” to “iwannakillmywifereallyreallyreallybadplzzz.”.

In the past month, I did interesting things such as:

A) Sleep.

B) Read.

C) Eat.

D) Go to class.

E) Run away and frame my husband as a murderer only to realize that, from my perspective, our fucked minds fit together like an insanely difficult jigsaw puzzle and I kill my ex instead and pretend he held me hostage and tortured me which he saw as an unconventional display of affection through his beast eyes.

The answer is: All of them except for E. (And A maybe, but it can all be accredited to this book.) Crazy, right? Okay, I’m gonna get my thoughts in order now.

The first hundred or so pages were good, but you could really feel that they were leading up to something truly fucked. And I had my suspicions about how fucked this was going to get, but I wasn’t even close. The constant switch between him detailing gruesome discoveries about her disappearance that somehow all led to him and her drawing this picture of fate bringing them together, everything being a perfect,  beautiful New York life really did it for me. Especially as her diary entries begin to bring along this acid aftertaste over time. There was a point at which I asked myself if he really didn't do it. Because how couldn’t he? She was Amazing Amy after all! 

The first point at which I raised my eyebrows concerningly high was when it was revealed that, yes, she did in fact come to the abandoned mall. But it wasn’t by force, it was to buy a gun. A damn gun of all things! The reaction of the guy who recognized her basically foreshadowed her “actual” personality. I could feel the weight of that “Oh shit, her?” through the pages when they showed him the picture. Other than that, nothing to report. Until we reach the 200-page mark, obviously. 

Andie. The perfect girl to blame everything on. The whole thing. The entire affair. All her doing as a twenty-something year old seductress. He just couldn’t resist. God, I want to shake her. On one hand, she’s a grown adult. She knew he was married, she knew his sister was literally down the hall when she tried to have sex with him because the disappearance of his wife doesn’t have anything to do with her because to Andie, Amy was always a distant character. Present enough to have questions asked about her but apparently not present enough to be seen as an actual obstacle when her husband was right there, being the poor, mistreated man he was, serving her drinks in the bar Amy’s parents’ exploitative business paid for. Andie is the manifestation of someone that the stereotypical wife-character would cry herself to sleep over. She’s younger, more attractive, probably even bakes for Nick. She craves attention in a way she could only ever really get in a real, official relationship with an available man, and still, she’s dumbing herself down to this. This belief only deepens when you think about how she’s sacrificing another woman’s happiness for her obsessive fling rooted in the small flicker of hope that he might one day leave his wife. Who would in turn take the bar, so that’s not happening, I guess. 

And yet, even after all that, if you told me you genuinely despised Andie, I’d think you haven’t actually read the book. It takes two to tango, in this case it’s a married man with a house and the wish to be a father someday and a college student who has nothing to lose in the love department. The playing field wasn’t exactly even. Like putting a cool sticker onto a surface it just won’t stick to. If you hadn’t tried putting it there, it would still be sticky enough to put somewhere else. But now that the protective paper’s off, you’re mad because you just wasted a sick sticker and also glad you did try to put it where it doesn’t belong so you now have certainty over the surface and won’t try again. Except that Andie’s palms are already rubbed raw from trying to make the sticker stay in place. Okay. Andie is not seulement to blame, we got it, no more stickers now. 

I’ll admit it now: I did not care for her time in that Hide-A-Way Cabin. I understand its importance in relation to her development and the need for her to be there, without money, because it’s an essential part of the plot, but I just couldn’t find it in me to really give a shit. Sorry, Jeff and Greta. Continuing. 

The Desi twist was something I really didn’t expect. I guess it wasn’t that far of a stretch for her to go from manipulating people and making them out to have done horrible things to her to actually killing someone. Still, didn’t think she had it in her, was all I thought while following the events of the last hundred pages.  Amazing Amy wins once again, they all shouted from the rooftops in unison, unaware of the silenced husband reduced to an obedient dog in the corner of their home soon to be filled with baby cries while his possible writer epitome Psycho Bitch rots in a recycle bin on his laptop.

[canisalbus]

hey there! sorry to bother again, but I was in a animating mood, so I ended doing a short animation of Machete for practice. It's kinda messy since I havent done that for a while, but hope you like it!

.

[iguessihaveanaccountnowguys]

Martha Jennings coming soon (aka when I get motivation)

References and bonus!! (I’m sorry I couldn’t find the reference I used for the pose. If I find it all be sure to update yall!)

I FOUND IT (LMAOO)

[basilthymee]

Do you think they're friends

[blackberry-mochi]

TODAY IS KAIMA'S ANNIVERSARY (I mean………. technically on itch it tells me it was released at 12:30AM on the 24th, but official sources claim it was released on the 23rd, and frankly 12:30AM is basically still the previous day) SO HERE'S AN IMAGE OF (true) SEARINA USING THE UNUSED SPECIAL CALLED "Hug!" ON ILLI!!! (It's there in the code I promise. I didn't look but it's gotta be there. You just don't see it because the game ends right as soon as SEARINA gets her soul back.)

Replayed KAIMA before drawing this and wowza……. I forgot how much swearing there was in it, pff. It's charming in a way though. ANYWAY KAIMA (the game) GOOD HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO NEW KAIMA (the location)!!!!!

[bluecollarbisexual]

My dad was a fire captain for calfire. I’m a nurse.

Started watching 911 for the bisexual rep that’s cropped up recently, as I’ve watched much worse shows for a lot less. Was really excited to watch a dumb procedural with a compelling bi storyline since I feel like the experience of figuring your shit out/exploring your sexuality older is a distinctly bisexual experience.

My experience of actually watching the show has been a little surprising though. I went into it mostly just stoked for a queer storyline that I could see myself reflected in. But what’s sticking with me more is the way I’m sort of understanding my father.

It took me until I started working as a nurse to really be able to understand even a fraction of some of the stuff I was only peripherally aware of as a kid. The way he resisted to the point of rage when I was insisting on wanting a motorcycle. The way he would angrily tell me how he spent too many nights scraping people off of the freeway for him to ever condone me buying something like that.

When I finally started working in medicine I began to understand some of his trauma, and the way it made him angry. I’ve learned what it’s like not to be able to save people and to watch them die, sometimes horrifically.

I didn’t go into this show expecting any real insights. I just wanted a fun romp with a queer reward. But weirdly the standout character has been Bobby for me. I see a lot of my father in him. The trauma and the fear and the still putting the turnouts back on and going out there under the influence of some drive that’s 1 part naturally-born hero, 1 martyr, and 1 part adrenaline junkie. And the mark that these kinds of jobs leave on the people who do them.

I grew up hearing stories about horrific motorcycle accidents. About how my father wasn’t there to help my mother when I was a newborn, because he was in San Francisco responding to the devastation of Loma Prieta. About how after one particularly nasty stretch, his brand new turnouts were completely black from blood. About how I didn’t recognize him and hid behind my mother’s leg when he came home after months on the line one fire season.

And this shit did take a toll. I’ve seen a lot of his anger, his inability to cry or mourn even when his father died, his tendency to fly into fire captain mode over even really mild emergencies. He couldn’t even finish the movie Seabiscuit because he couldn’t stomach the kid dying in the beginning of the film. Watching similar struggles of Bobby’s character, the PTSD, and the situations that contribute to it, is making me appreciate the life he lead in a way that not even being a nurse can.

Anyway I don’t expect anyone is particularly interested in this. I’m in season 2, and just a little surprised by the way this show is hitting me and just sorta needed to reflect on it.

If anyone is also in emergency/medical (or has a loved one who is) and has had similar experiences watching this show I’d be interested in hearing from you.

[sweetpaintedladie]

my friend whose in college came to visit me while he’s on thanksgiving break and he found me a copy of playback by tom petty and the heartbreakers on vhs and i literally cannot comprehend how sweet that was 😭<3 it’s in such perfect condition too

[cutieln4]

Kiss and Makeup | LN4 smau

lando norris x reader

summary: you are lando norris's makeup artist

fc: isabela merced

yourusername added to their story

caption: my face after waking up at 4 am to do ppl’s makeup

yourusername

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yourusername my life recently

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yourbsf you’re GLOWING babe

mclaren check DMs!

mclaren added to their story

caption: New stuff coming soon🤭

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user1 oh wow he's so handsome

user2 OMG IM SO HAPPY

user3 YAY NEW LANDO CONTENT

mclaren

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mclaren Some new bags have been released with our partnership with Tumi, check them out below!

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user1 he's so—HJQHSJCHJW

user2 wow😋

user3 i want to bite him

user4 I NEED HIM SO BAD

user5 anything you say sweetheart😍

user6 #needthat

user7 i'll cook and clean the dishes just one chance plsss

yourusername

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yourusername it was nice doing something else! thanks for having me! @/mclaren

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yourbsf remember me when you're famous😔

user1 IM SO JEALOUS

mclaren thanks for joining us!

user2 how does one get this job

landonorris thanks for letting me look at all ur powders!

yourusername haha ofc, anytime!

user3 OMG LANDO COMMENTED

user4 lando commented what does this meannnnnnn

landonorris

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landonorris gearing up for the next race

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user1 P1 i see the vision

user2 i love that helmet

magui_corceiro good luck!

user3 letsssgoo

yourusername good luck!

landonorris thank you! ;)

user4 🤨

user5 ?????

yourusername

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yourusername anyway i also have a life

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yourbsf body is tea tho

yourbsf GORGEOUS

user1 face card never declines

user2 i fear you are serving

landonorris pretty

yourusername thank you😊

user3 OHHHHH

user4 RIZZ?????

user5 oh to have lando norris call me pretty

user6 guys is this the start of something new?

user7 alright chill out zac efron

GQ

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GQ Racing, gaming, and padel, hear all about Lando Norris in his interview here

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user1 WOWZA

user2 another photoshoot? please tell me y/n was his makeup artist

user3 ZOO WEE MAMA🥵

user4 lando has been feeding us lately

user5 i can't handle this anymore

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caption: bros messing up the makeup😐

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user1 IM SO JEALOUS

user2 soooo are yall dating or what?

landonorris oops?

landonorris

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landonorris that's more like it

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user1 LANDO NORRIS 2X GRAND PRIX WINNER

user2 absolute domination today

user3 congrats!!

yourusername invite me next time?

landonorris yes ma'am🫡

user4 WHAT DOES THIS MEANNNNN

user5 im sick of them

maxfewtrell put a shirt on mate

user6 no we don't mind😊

yourusername

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yourusername who is this diva????

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user1 HELP I LOVE HER

user2 my b pose is naaastyyy

user3 he's so handsome

landonorris it's not too late to delete

yourusername but what fun is that???

user4 🚢🚢🚢

user5 so so jealous

user6 is she just like his permanent makeup artist now lol?

yourusername yeah he kidnapped me

landonorris for legal reasons this is a joke😑

user7 OMG

tumitravel

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tumitravel Lando Norris for TUMI

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user1 ok i'll buy the bag

user2 does lando come with the bag???

user3 yn is one lucky girl

user4 love how y'all just assume their dating

user3 well yes

user5 HOLY MOLY

yourusername wow whoever did his makeup must be really good

landonorris meh shes okay

user6 stop i love them

lando.jpg

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user1 HELP WHOS CAT IS THAT

user2 who u making heart pizza with??🤨

user3 if i say what i wanna say they'll silence me

user3 they're so dating

user4 🤫

yourusername aw cute cat

landonorris thx :)

user5 let me just sit back and observe

user6 yesss lando.jpg revival finally

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user1 where ya going?🙂

yourbsf gonna miss u when ur in singapore :(

user2 y'all so cute idec if you're dating or not

landonorris

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landonorris sing a pore

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user1 bruh

user2 hard launch on live tv goes crazy

user3 bro's just gonna ignore that EVERYONE saw that kiss

yourusername you can't keep a secret to save your life

landonorris oops🤭

yourusername you're lucky ur cute

user4 CONFIRMATION YES

user5 WAR IS OVER

user6 I WAS HERE

user7 okay but that was so fricking cute

yourusername

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yourusername muppet🙄

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user1 HELP

landonorris i said i was sorry pls

landonorris sorry again😁😁😁

landonorris where did you get these photos

user2 nahh that's crazy

user3 okay now i'm definitely jealous

user4 this is literally a wattpad story like wdym she's his makeup artist and now they're dating???

yourbsf i'd like to thank beyoncé

taglist: @evasmlp @partnerincrime0 @r0nnsblog @raizelchrysanderoctavius @daniiiboo @wisestarfishbouquet @noodleysalad @thatgirlwholikescars @jxnellat @blakebearsblog @angelluv444 @pretty-little-bunny382728 @etterdotexe @scopeiguess @noope306 @burning8wood @styl1shl1v @venusandstardust @daniellef89x @nzygftoji @laheykol06 @blodwyn4u @allthings-fandoms @woozarts @astroniii @lilorose25 @dejavuontrack @xxx-betty @wobblymug @m3ntally-unstable @armystay89 @sarakay-gvf @kar1nsworldx @velentine @rexit-mo @blodwyn4u @lammys-thinking @sam02009 @kaorisakamotofan @taylorsvogue13 @loveparkersblog @delicatetrashtree @hashmiya @noodleboyluke @crispysoup318 @kisssleeping @comicalivy @lilypat @superlegend216 @pakotrzl @heavy-vettel @ilivbullyingjeongin @theblueblub @bloodyymaryyy @stressed-cherry @da-writer @chemiru @ks001

add yourself to my taglist here!

[caotictimmy]

I ATE THE WHOLE DAISUKE DATING HC AND I MUST SAY ALL THE BRAINROT THAT HAS BEEN STEWING IN MY MIND!!!

I think he's such a golden retriever bf 😭 like both ways— sfw and nsfw. HES SO DOWN BAD FOR YOU, he loves you so much and fjdkkd if his partner also has physical contact as a primary love language, he would die for headpats. Like genuinely, give this guy headpats be when you two are cuddling or when you are both in an intimate moment. You could reward him with a little patpat on the head when Swansea is not looking, and he would lean in to your touch a little bit before reminding himself, he needs to learn!! he needs to make you proud

NOW NSFW-WISEE.....

Praise kink goes so hard on him is insane

He could be eating you out with sparkles in his eyes, almost like asking if he's doing a good job, and if you do express it, tell him he's such a good boy, how good you are feeling because of HIM, he's going to go harder on you out of pure happiness—hes doing a good job!! you're like this because of his work and that amazes him

i could write more but my mind is a mess and im so sleepy wnwnkd.

🐁 out!!!

🐁 anon I love your thinking please don’t spontaneously combust. BUT IM SO GLAD THE HIM LIKING HIS HAIR/HEAD TOUCHED IS CATCHING ON OMG….

Sfw headcanons/thoughts

- Now that I’m thinking of it. I should have known he’d like head pats. LIKE I ALREADY GOT THE GOLDEN RETRIEVER BF VIBE FROM HIM.

- But he definitely loves getting head pats or his hair ruffled! Specifically he really likes it after/is doing something good. Like normal head pats are fine but. Knowing your giving him them because he did something good?!?!

- You guys have definitely gotten called weirdos by Swansea, cause you patted Daisuke’s head. Swansea wont say anything cause this man is emotionally constipated 💔. But he’s glad Daisuke has someone who Daisuke can be his true weird self.

- If your hand is somewhere close to his head, and he wants head pats. Daisuke will head butt his head against your hand to show he wants you to either play with his hair, pat his head, scratch his scalp, etc ect.

- I think like the first time he head butt your hand for attention was when y’all were cuddling. You had your hand by his head. And you weren’t taking hid obvious hints! (Slightly nudging at you). So well he just thunked his head against your hand. Ever since then he keeps doing that when he wants you to play with his hair

NSFW - DO NOT READ IF YOUR A MINOR OR UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NSFW (mostly AFAB some Gn )

- Omg please pull his hair. PLEASE. He loves it so much. Like holy moly. If you pull his hair while he’s deep inside. HES COMING IMMEDIATELY! Like pull just right and omg. It’s like a switch in his brain. And that man is going HARDER AND FASTER. Like I hope to burnt curly Anya can lend you a wheel chair.

- Omg just imagine Daisuke pulling his hair back during sex. OMG MY GYATTTT. Guys I see the light and it’s Daisuke pulling his hair back.

-(AFAB) I just thought of something. GYAHH IMAGINE SEEING DAISUKE TIES HIS HAIR BACK TO EAT YOU OUT(might need to make this into a FIC).I’m Actually foaming at the mouth. Guys wait let me cook.

“wait!”. Daisuke said. Before rolling a hair tie he had on his wrist for working on machines. Biting it as he collects his hair. Tying it up in a ponytail. Before pushing his sleeves up. Daisuke Looks back at You with a smile. “Now I’m ready” he say cheekily.

- Guys someone please draw Daisuke with a sexy man ponytail please I’ll be in debt with you. PLEASE HE’LL LOOK SO HOT JUST TRUST MY VISON!!!!

-(AFAB) Omg and grip his hair while he’s eating you out. Like omg if you’re pulling at his hair moaning. He’s gonna feel so good about himself knowing he’s pleasing you. Also if you ever shoved his face in your cunt while he’s eating you out. You gave yourself a death wish. CAUSE THIS MAN WILL NOT STOP UNTIL YOU HAVE TO PULL HIS HEAD AWAY.

You couldn’t take it anymore. It’s like he couldn’t stop. The pleasure was getting to much. You gripped his hair. Feeling him moan in you. You pull his head back, letting out that breath you didn’t know you were holding in. You could hear him catching his breath before hearing him let out a sad noise. You looked down seeing Daisuke giving you these sad puppy dog eyes. “Did I do something wrong.” He asked, genuinely concerned.

“No no! Just needed-“. You huffed, “need..need a moment.” You said dazed. He paused for a moment. The glimmer in his eyes back with a vengeance. He starts to grin. “Did I..” He started. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, cleaning your slick off around his mouth. “Did I do good?” He asked. Daisuke happily looking up at you waiting for your response. His grin got wider as he felt your hand rub against his head.

Authors note: GYAHH I LOVED THIS REQUEST SMMMM. Like, reblogd, and especially comments are appreciated! This was so fun writing thud.

[wonderjanga]

Billy and the Robins

Marvel has met all the Robins up until now. Like, let’s say Billy has been doing this for like eight maybe ten years. This Billy as Marvel met Dick a year before he became Nightwing, met Jason all the way through until his death, met Tim, and met Damian. He’s also been able to connect them to their new vigilante identities almost immediately. Now, Damian still is Robin and of course, Tim going from Robin to Red Robin isn’t too hard to figure out but I can see him doing this to the other two:

*Nightwing just joins the Justice League and all is looking swell so far. His first mission is with Captain Marvel and he remembers the dude being pretty nice. The mission goes well and they’re on their way back to the Watchtower.*

*Two are talking about whatever*

Marvel: *Pauses mid convo and stares at Nightwing a bit before he does a little finger snap* “Oh! That’s where I know you from! You’re Robin! Dude, it is so cool you became your own hero. The blue’s awesome.”

Nightwing: *Has a mini-heart attack* “Wha? Psshh… Dude, I’m not Robin.”

Marvel: “Uh… Yeah you are? You guys have the same” *gestures to Nightwing*

Nightwing: “The same what?”

Marvel: “You know. The same” *gestures to Nightwing again* Nightwing: “You do know that doesn’t tell me anything… right?”

or

*Zatanna, her father, and Constantine are unavailable to help with a magic artifact. This led Bruce to begrudgingly ask Billy for help. At the scene are Bruce, Billy, Damian, Cassandra, and Jason. Bruce is briefing them on something Marvel isn’t listening to as he stares at Jason trying to figure out why he’s familiar.*

Marvel: *cuts Bruce off* “Aren’t you Robin number 2?” *ignores the stares as he looks at Jason.*

*silence from literally everyone*

Marvel: “Holy moly. You’re like 6’2.” (He says as if his Marvel form isn’t like 6’11. I love freakishly tall Marvel) “You used to be so tiny!”

Red Hood: *Gets hit in the face with a flashback*

//Flashback//

(Recently adopted Jason)

Jason: *sitting on a couch in one of the Watchtower’s rec rooms eyeing a box of donuts on a coffee table.*

Marvel: *walks into rec room with the intent to steal said donuts as food for Billy. Sees Jason.* “Robin?” *Walks over.* “You look… different.”

Jason: *fumbling for words, slightly surprised a hero came up to talk to him* “Oh uh- I’m not Robin- Your Robin. The Robin that you know.”

Marvel: “Yeah, well, that’s kinda obvious. You’re all skin and bones, kid.”

*The joke was met with no laughs and a look of hurt.*

Marvel: “Not- not that I’m saying it’s a bad thing! As somebody who frequently lived on ketchup sandwiches and sugar water at your age,” (as if he isn’t still that age, and still lives like that) “trust me when I say, I’m not making fun of you.” *grabs the box of donuts and offers it to Jason* “Look, why don’t you take one of these, or maybe a couple. I saw you eying them when I walked in. I’m sorry if you got upset at what I said.” *really doesn’t want Jason to cry*

Jason: *grabs two donuts. Chocolate and strawberry* “Why?”

Marvel: “Why what?”

Jason: “Why’d you live like that at my age?” (He finds it surprising this guy, this hero, lived like that at some point.)

Marvel: *contemplates whether or not telling Jason is a good idea for like 3 seconds before he throws it out the window* “I was homeless.” *shrugs*

Jason: “Oh. Me too.” *nibbles on one of the donuts*

*After a while of awkward conversation, Marvel soon gets Jason to open up and they branch away from the topic homelessness and spiral into other topics. Jason goes back to Bruce with a smile on his little face*

*After that, and a couple more encounters between the two, Marvel was the first person Jason bee-lined too at the Watchtower. Of course, not before saying hi to Wonder Woman. Greek heroes hold a special place in his heart for some reason.*

//End of Flashback//

*Under the helmet, Jason’s face slowly reddens in embarrassment and he just facepalms, not caring that he hit the metal of his helmet as he went through memories upon memories of little him following Marvel around like a little duckling.*

[psychesalcove]

While the others talk, we were listening to Lovers Rock ✮⋆˙

Percy Jackson x Fem. Reader synopsis: You weren't one for parties, so how you found yourself at a Hermes cabin party was beyond you. At least your crush of a couple years was also there. tw: mentions of alcohol and drugs

part of psyches fall writes – want to read some more?

a/n: holy moly guys I'm so so sorry for not posting for over a month. School has been rlly tough the last month: tests, quizzes, assignments, and all that jazz. I just couldn't find the time to write for this blog, and I didn't have much motivation to write with all my English essays I've been having to do. I hope that each and every one of you is doing well, and again, I'm really sorry about not posting for so long!! I hope that you enjoy this loves!:)

You put your plastic cup up to your lips and sipped. It wasn't the best drink, but it was expected for a Hermes cabin party. The lights were flashing from colors that ranged from red to purple, and people were gathered around with their friends, talking about whatever came to mind.

You sighed, you free hand coming up to adjust your strap on your dress. You departed from your friends a couple of minutes ago, your mind going too fast to be doing social interactions at that moment. Yu rarely went to parties that were held at camp; the main reason being Percy.

You had been harboring a crush on him since you first saw him arrive at camp. And everyone else seemed to have the same story as you--how fun. You never really spoke to him, unless you were paired up for an activity or if it was in a group setting. Not that you minded. You think that if you did have one on one conversations with him you wouldn't be able to hold them for longer than three minutes. He was also known to go to every single party that occurred at camp; hence why you didn't go very often.

Speak of the devil, Percy appeared in your eyesight as he came back into the cabin from outside. You took a deep breath and looked at the floor, opting to not look at your long-time crush and make awkward eye contact. As you stared at the old wooden floor like it held all the answers to the universe, you heard a voice from beside you.

"Hi." Percy said. You lifted your head in record time, your eyes immediately finding his. "Sorry, uhm." He lifted his arm and rubbed the back of his neck. You heard him mumble something under his breath that sounded close to 'Gods I'm really bad at this.'

"Do you need something?" You asked and facepalmed yourself mentally. The one-time Percy comes up to you and you sound offended. Great going.

"I was wondering if you would want to come outside with me?" He asked, the words rushing out fast and blending together. You scrunched your eyebrows together, not understanding why he would want you to be out there with him. Seeing your expression, he continued. "I mean, I've never really talked to you before with just you, and I thought it would be nice?"

You nodded your head before you could stop yourself, and now you found yourself walking out the cabin door with Percy. He opened it for you, smiling as you looked at him with what was probably confusion.

As the two of you walked out, the fall air immediately hit you--why you wore a short-sleeved dress was beyond you. There were a couple of picnic tables littered around the cabin, and Percy lead you to the nearest one. As you sat down across from him, he cleared his throat. "Sorry that I did that. It was probably really werid now thinking about it," He laughed, refering to your interaction in the cabin.

You smiled at him. Gods he was really cute when he laughed. "It's fine, Percy." You said, hands coming up to rub your arms as the chili air covered your body.

You watched as his eyes winded a bit, his smile becoming larger. "You know my name?" He asked, hands resting on the table and leaning closer to you.

"Everyone knows your name." You stated, ears picking up on a Sabrina Carpender song coming from the party.

His ears flushed red, and he puffed out his cheeks. "Yeah, but still..." He drawled, hands making a small movment.

You raised your eyebrow. "But what?" You giggled, watching as his face got more red.

"It means a lot when someone like you knows it," he said, rushing his words once again. It took you a second to absorb what he said, but when you did, your cheeks flushed to match his.

"What do you mean?" You questioned, your heart beating slightly faster.

"Like," He blew out a breath. "It means something when you know who I am. I know that we don't know each other very well, or like at all, but for some reason it means something." He rambled, hands making the same motion as earlier.

Before you could say anything, he continued his rant. "Anytime that we've talked, I feel like you see me for who I am and not for what I've done or what I stand for or anything like that." He sucked in a breath. "And I don't even know how I'm as attracted to you as much as I am, I don't even really know you, but I notice you and I want to know you, really, really bad." Your heart skipped a beat, eyes still widened as you watched him.

"I really like you. And I want to know you, for who you are, like you know me. And I know that you probably don't know me very well or anything, but all the times we've talked I've felt like I've known you for years." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, awaiting your response.

When you didn't say anything, he opened his eyes again and looked at you with his pretty green eyes. "And if you don't feel the same way or anything, we can pretend like this never happened and stuff." He quickly explained--as if there was a universe where you wouldn't like him, was your thought as he said that.

"I want to get to know you, too, Percy." You giggled, kind still in a bliss over the words that came out of Percy mere seconds ago. His smile came back onto his face, eyes lighting up like he just got the best news of his life.

"Okay. Thats great." He said, blowing out a breath of air as he took in your answer. "And like, we don't have to start dating or anything right away, if you don't want to. And if you don't want to date at all, cool too," He explained.

You giggled again, taking your hand away from your arms to put it over his hand. "Let's start slow," You mused, watching as he became even more red in the face.

He nodded. "Yeah, slow." Percy squeezed your hand and smiled at you. "But like, it would be really cool to call you my girlfriend," He said, smiling more as you laughed in response.

"Slow, Perce."

He giggled--one that could've been mistaken for a girl, in your response, and more specifically, your nickname for him.

[qwimchii]

𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 (pt. 6) — 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺

playlist pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4 pt. 5 pt. 6 pt. 7 pt. 8 (10/24)

𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳!𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘧!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘴𝘵'𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘭𝘢𝘸, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘸𝘤 — 13.1k

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘸𝘦𝘴𝘵!𝘢𝘶, 141𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘨!𝘢𝘶, 𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳!𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘥𝘰𝘮!𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵, 𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 (10𝘺𝘳𝘴), 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭, 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 & 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, p. in v, 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘫𝘰𝘣, 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘧 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘶𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬 (𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢?), 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 😵‍💫, 𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘱𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘬 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯

note: i really hope this isn’t too angsty and confusing? also i noticed the atrocious amount of typos i had in the last part and holy moly... hopefully this one had less because i very lightly proofread it 😭 but if it does i am sorry (im really lazy about proofreading help 😵‍💫)….

two months later

you had not talked to Simon for two weeks. you had not even seen him for days.

the last time you did, it was late at night in the office.

most nights, just like days ago, you were up late working, rain pelting against the window where you typed at your desk, just the irregular patter of rain filling the empty office and the quick clatter of the character keys beneath your fingers. there was a sharp ache in your shoulders and you sighed, rolling them back and wincing at the cracks along your spine. 

rolling your head back, you looked at the desk beside your own—painfully empty in the dim lighting.

as promised, one-four-one had filled the gaping power chasm within the western frontier, shifting headquarters to the capital of the west and buying several properties on every key corner of the sprawling city—much like the brand new townhouse you called an office. 

not many rival gangs had stood up to the power shift because they couldn’t. widespread federal crackdowns had swept through the city. the anonymity of one-four-one had still been preserved—though over time, you had grown to doubt that—and one-four-one had won the war.

it didn’t feel like it though. it felt like you were in hiding all over again, but not from Turner’s men. it was the law this time.

now, at least, one-four-one disclosed all business endeavors to you.

you poured over their financial bookings. Simon had grumbled about it, saying something like it was dangerous for you to be so involved, but it didn’t matter much anyway. you were their main operation of business now, and all ordeals went through you… and your father’s saloon chain.

Kate implored, with the heat of the law breathing down one-four-one’s back, that they needed a legal guise for their illegal ventures. and you offered the saloon chain as an outlet so long that  you would remain the major shareholder.

one-four-one had agreed and Simon, albeit grudgingly, with a grumpy disposition, had agreed.

but establishing a saloon in every town, city, and borough of one-four-one’s proved to be difficult, making Simon busy and you even busier.

eyes darting back down to the empty desk, you missed the vacant absence by your side nonetheless. rubbing at your face, you decided to call it quits, reaching over to turn off the lamp at your desk. the room plunged into darkness, and only the murky light of the moon seeped through the window.

a chill swept through the place and you couldn’t help but shiver, swiping away all papers and materials into the filing cabinet beside your desk when there was a knock at the back door of the office.

“who is it?” you called, sliding the drawers shut and wiping your palms against your dress.

when there was no response, you paused, craning your neck to peer at the door. through the opaque glass, you could make out a tall, shadowed figure at the door.

sighing, you snatched a revolver from your purse, cocking it just in case, and strode over to the door to twist it open.

“business hours are closed—” you began, looking up to the tall figure in the entrance, breath hitching when you saw a familiar scarred face.

Simon looked tired—more tired than you remembered him after two weeks. maybe older too, you worried, watching the downpour roar of rain slip off his trench coat. he just watched you with quiet eyes and a blank expression, swaying slightly in the doorway, which only worried you more.

“Simon—” you said, voice pinched as you reached out to him, then muffled a yelp when he suddenly lurched forward and pressed his wet body to yours.

your hand was still outstretched when he curled into you, big body bent down to wrap around your waist and pull you flush to him.

“missed you,” his whispered, pressing his nose into your neck, then kissing there. the water seeping through your dress made you shiver and he rubbed at your sides, like he was trying to warm you.

an overwhelming crash of confusion wracked you. Simon wasn’t due to be back for a while. at least a few more weeks. nonetheless, you twisted your hands into his clothes, amazed to find him solid and real in front of you.  

“Simon. why are you here—?”

he pulled back from your neck and suddenly pressed his lips to yours, the kiss cold and wet from the rain, his stetson tipping off his head when he angled his head to kiss you deeper, messier, his teeth knocking into yours as his tongue dipped through your lips.

you muffled a squeak, trying to match the fast movements with your own, curling your arms around his neck and letting the revolver clatter to the floor. when his tongue brushed against yours, there was a rich and bitter taste in your mouth, and you gasped. alcohol.

you pressed against his chest and he pulled back with a disgruntled noise, frowning, before trying to kiss you again. but you pushed him away by his jaw and his frown only deepened.

“why?” he asked softly, brows furrowed. 

you rubbed his chest, quelling the hurt look on his face to melt away.

“you’re drunk, Si,” you whispered back before gently tugging him towards the vacant chair in the office.

when he sat in it, the chair groaning under his weight, he tried to pull you onto his lap, fingers curling around the back of your thighs and tugging you forward. when you didn’t budge, he huffed, and jerked you forward with enough force that you fell into his lap with a yelp.

“Simon—!”

he curled you up into his lap, snaking an arm around your waist and the other up your chest, hand gripping at your shoulder to keep you locked against him. with a sigh, you let it happen, smoothing your dress free of its wrinkles Simon had just created. his eyes lazily followed the movement, nose pressed into your cheek and hot breath against your skin.

“pretty dress,” he remarked, squeezing you tightly. you just rolled your eyes.

you were about to give him a sarcastic quip when, voice deceptively soft, he asked, “why are you avoiding me?”

the breath left your lungs, and you went very still.

when you didn’t give a verbal response, Simon shifted beneath you, just winding around you tighter.

“supposed to be my wife,” he said, forehead sinking into your neck. his voice was so somber that you had to stifle a laugh of disbelief.

“you haven’t even proposed,” you reminded him. he just grumbled something you couldn’t hear, words smothered against your skin.

you didn’t know why you were avoiding him. 

Soap had told you—very briefly during one-four-one’s inhabitation of san francisco—that it gets worse before it gets better. he had said it so briefly that you hadn’t know what he meant, didn’t really think it meant anything, until your life resumed in a new bustling city that felt impossible to get accustomed to.

now you know exactly what he meant. swallowing hard, you willed the thoughts away, burying them under a thick layer of bitter denial that Simon sniffed out like a hound.

“marry me then,” he offered, and you pinched the skin of his wrist.

“no. you’re not proposing to me while you’re drunk.”

he huffed out. “why not?”

you ignored him. “why were you drinking?”

when he was silent for a long moment, you smothered a smile of victory, feeling like you had won for some stupid reason.

then, he grumbled out quietly, “you were ignorin’ me.”

the smile slid from your face.

after a pause, you hiked up your dress, uncaring for indecency when you twisted in his hold, hooking your thighs around his in the chair. he gripped your hips tightly, looking up at you with hooded eyes. the small, unpleasant twist of his lips soured any warm feeling in your chest.

“m’not ignoring you,” you said softly, reaching up to brush the tangle of his blonde hair from his brow. his hair was getting too long now—the close shave on the sides of his head shaggy and unkempt.

he looks pretty anyway, you decided dreamily, kissing his forehead gently. his hands slid up to your waist, gripping you tighter.

“feels like it,” he grumbled and you suppressed a smile.

“sorry,” you said, the ache in your chest only swelling when you noticed the crestfallen look in his dark eyes.

“i’ve been busy,” you admitted, rubbing a comforting hand over his chest.

he just pulled you closer, forehead knocking against your shoulder. his hands crept up to your upper back now, clutching at your dress.

“so have you,” you pointed out.

he mulled in silence, hands sliding back down your torso, a shiver wracking you in his hold. then, he dropped his hands to your legs, fingers brushing over your legs as he edged up your dress, hands sliding beneath the fabric to play with the hem of your drawers. the leather of his gloves was cool against your skin.

“Simon,” you chided, blushing when his fingertips slithered beneath the fabric.

“missed you,” he reiterated, grip firm on your upper thighs as he pulled you tight against his hips. the blush bloomed across your ears and neck when you felt his hard arousal beneath his pants.

“not in my office,” you hissed, and he grumbled.

“you were gonna shoot me,” he complained, picking his head up to glare at the revolver that lay forgotten across the carpet floor, just by Simon’s fallen stetson.

you rolled your eyes. “i was not gonna shoot you.”

“you should make it up to me,” he interjected, voice a seductive, low rumble.

with another roll of your eyes, you swatted at him, pulling off his lap despite the string of expletive protests that left his lips.

you knew him too well to be fooled by his manipulative seductive tendencies. instead, you gathered your items and your purse, ignoring his big, sukling body beside yours. when he tugged at your dress, and you ignored him again, he made a sad noise.

upon observing the dark cloud of disapproval that roiled off his body, and the deep scowl on his face, you promised, “later Si.”

at that, he perked up, looking hopeful as he followed you to the back door of the office. you picked up your revolver on the floor and shoved it in your purse. opening the door to the pouring rain outside, you sighed, wishing you had an umbrella as you craned your neck out into the night.

instead, Simon picked up his stetson from the floor and pushed it onto your head. it was too big on you and tipped forward, concealing your vision of the city streets. at that, he huffed a laugh and drew you closer, hitching up his coat so that you were tucked beneath his arm and the flap of his trench coat.

“lead the way, lovely,” he said, voice tinged with an amused lilt as you frowned, tilting his hat back so that you could see as he led you down the little steps from the office and out onto the street—bound for his horse by the cobbled sidewalk, the black stallion stomping in the rain. bound for home.

looking over at Simon whose eyes were trained ahead, you took in his content, handsome profile with a greediness, only realizing just then how much you had missed him. down to the very bones of your body, you had missed him. 

just then, you couldn’t help but feel that you were already at home in his arms.

but that was days ago.

Soap had ridden into the city with a panic that same night, roving around to find that blonde brute of yours, he had explained in the comforts of your new, big apartment. the third place he had looked was your home, and you had tried to hide the flush of your skin behind the cup of tea you sipped.

he had explained that Simon had gone home prematurely without a notice, too drunk to reason through with things. too drunk to be able to quell how much he missed you.

with a sinking feeling, you had come to acknowledge with a tinge of guilt just how much you had been neglecting him. not that it was your responsibility to take care of him in the first place. you weren’t married.

though, after everything, that didn’t seem to matter at all. you were completely his anyway.

with a wince, you couldn’t help but wonder, was he yours as well? could you even dare to wonder if your relationship was an equal give and take? if it was anything more than a silent power imbalance?

eyes darting from Soap to your open bedroom door, you eyed the large lump beneath the blankets of your bed. you hadn’t even done anything upon arrival at your home. you had pushed him toward the bedroom and he had sunk down into the mattress, exhausted from his long ride to san francisco, and promptly fell asleep, thoroughly soaking your sheets.

you had let him sleep, content to lay flush by his side and tangled in his wet embrace, till there was a pounding on your door. you had opened it to find Soap dripping with water and looking just as tired as the hulking man who slept in your bed.

and there you were on the living room sofas with Soap, sipping tea as he explained that they needed to go back and finish taking care of things in arizona and mexico. then they would be home bound again. it was a promise.

once the sun crested the sky along the horizon, you gently shook Simon awake, looking confused and sleepy in the morning light.

he had gone without much reluctance—much more sober than the night before. a composed stoicism overtook him again and he was curt in his goodbye. so curt it made your heart ache.

he could barely look at you, brushing his gloved fingers gently against your cheek in a brief reminder of his deep, lingering affection, before he disappeared with Soap out your apartment. the only remnant of him was your drenched sheets and the soft smell of smoky ash and woods against them.

this was how it had been for months. it gets worse before it gets better, Soap had said to you when things had grown tense between you and Simon. you were managing a business. he was managing the entire western frontier through the business you managed.

was marriage an option anymore?

your mind chanted a quiet reminder that it wouldn’t be long before one-four-one would be in san francisco permanently. Simon’s stoic presence would be more resolute and then maybe, maybe, you could do something about it.

there were nights when you caved when he was home, staying just across the hall from your apartment, knocking at his door and desperate for his touch on your skin. he would always relent, picking you up and throwing you onto his bed, crawling over you and setting your whole body alight with sensual touches and long, breathless kisses as he fucked you through several earth shattering orgasms that had your nails scratching down his back, hands twisting his hair, sometimes biting down on his shoulder to try and quell the overwhelming pleasure of it.

you’d roll in the sheets for hours, tangled together until the sun came up after a long, pleasurable and sweaty night. there were always bruises left along your skin, a darkened splotchy purple against your hips where his had slammed into you over and over, making you see stars.

there were nights when he’d do the same. you remembered opening the door to him—half-naked and his bare, muscled torso on display, a scarred, discolored twist of skin over the side of his chest and shoulder that matched the skin of your own arm. there was always a tinge of plea in his voice, of desperation, as he edged you into your own apartment and you always, always relented.

you remembered being down on your knees for him for the first time, throat swollen and tight as he eased his cock down your throat, a gentle hand in your hair.

“thas’ it,” he had praised, voice slurred as he guided you through the unusual motion. your head slid up and down his thick, hot length that pulsed in your mouth, sucking him with closed eyes.

“look at me,” he had commanded, thumb pressing against your cheek and you had fluttered your eyes up at him, head feeling light and airy from the lack of oxygen circulating in your system.

“fuck,” he choked out, head tipping back at the sight of you, so small and obedient between his thighs.

it was just like this every time—mind blowing and unforgettable. content in his strong arms after every night of intense passion, your cheek pressed to his warm chest and soft, lulling whispers into your ear as he stroked your hair till you fell asleep to his random bursts of rambles about work, one-four-one, and you. soft, loving words about you.

he was always the most talkative those nights. in the morning, he would always be gone, and in the light of day, you’d half ignore each other for fear of…

you didn’t know what you should be fearing but you feared something so strong that you buried yourself in work and allowed yourself to be selfish. trying desperately to forget everything and always failing much to Yue-Yi’s amusement.

damn special privileges, you had hired Yue-Yi as a personal assistant after the majority of brothels had been shut down with the crackdown of law across the west. managing so many of her own personal clients throughout her life, Yue-Yi proved to be adept at organizing your busy schedule and especially adept at keeping you company when one-four-one was gone. when Simon was gone.

she reminded you to take care of yourself when you were overworking. you always countered by saying that one-four-one was working twice as hard, though with the incredulous look she would send you every time, you grew to become unsure of yourself.

and here you were in the present, days since you had “talked” to Simon though his mind seemed to be barely present underneath a veil of intoxication. days since Soap had whisked him back to whatever duties that lay east of san francisco.

you tried to ignore it all, taking long strolls through the park during lunch to avoid the hustle bustle of your office during the busy hours. you preferred to work in silence, but that proved difficult with the growing number of employers that were corralled into your business, no matter how perturbed they thought an unmarried woman as their boss.

you heard their gossips and whispers. they thought you were hiding a secret marriage with the prophesied ceo from them. Simon Riley. little did they know, their ceo was actually you. you didn’t have the heart to tell them that they were wrong and allowed them to continue thinking you were some favored personal assistant of Simon—just a typist and nothing more.

you only let a few men—vaqueros who knew good english with proficient math and business skills—into your secret, pressing real business matters to carry out into their hands. they never questioned it, and whether it was a command from Alejandro or not, you thought of them as amiable acquaintances.

the fall leaves littered the path in the park on this day, your hands clasped behind your back as you observed the sun flecked surroundings. a husband and wife ambled through the grass as their children trailed behind, throwing up colorful leaves into the air with pitched laughter. immediately, you looked away from the sight.

that’s when you spotted a familiar man staring at you, splayed across a nearby bench in a fancy three-piece suit and ginger hair fiery in the sunlight.

you stopped in your tracks.

“Konig?” you choked, slowly edging toward him. he tipped his head to you with a smile that smothered something strange in his pale green eyes.

“pleasant to see you little lady.”

your mouth opened and closed and you would’ve sat by him if it weren’t for the thrumming, ominous instinct in you to stay away.

and you did just that, stopping a comfortable distance from the big man, his eyes never leaving you as he took a swing from a flask before tucking it back into the breast pocket of his suit.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, dismayed, wondering if you were hallucinating it out of your own loneliness.

he ruffled his hair, smile lopsided but eyes still flat and dead and cold. Konig had disappeared on the move into san francisco. he would reappear every one and a while, poking around in your business and checking on your well-being before disappearing all over again. it was frustrating and left you beyond confusion.

it left Simon seething because Konig would conveniently pop up in the midst of a random, bustling street, tell you with joy that he was staying just around the corner of your new apartment and make Simon sulk at the very sight of the austrian man.

“my employers in Austria,” he said with a tilted head, “they want me to stay in san francisco for business.”

your mind spun. business? assassin business?

your throat ran dry. “you won’t kill Simon, will you?” 

the smile on his face was malicious.

“i already tried,” he said slowly, and you suppressed a shiver, remembering when Kate had told you that Konig had left Simon for dead in that fire but took you with him. saved your life.

“that british boy,” Konig said, brow furrowed like he was concentrating hard, “i do not like him, Engel.”

you sighed out, rubbing at your temple. “i know, Konig.”

when Konig only kept staring at you in silence, you decided to probe him with questions. “where have you been?”

you were surprised by the hurt in your voice. his brows only rose slightly. “san francisco—”

“what have you been doing?” you interjected, twisting your hands in your dress.

he stared at you for a long moment. “business.”

his voice dropped an octave. “and watching you.” then, he rephrased, “watching you and Ghost.”

you wrinkled your nose. not ominous at all.

“you care about him,” he observed lightly, looking away from you. a frown twitched at his lips and you sighed, gaining the courage to sit on the very opposite edge of the bench. though with his sheer size, he took up more than half of it, his arm splayed out over the back and his fingers pressed against your shoulder when you leaned back to look up at the clear, crisp sky.

“i do,” you confirmed, and he shifted beside you, picking up his hand to play with the ends of your hair.

“why? he’s an insufficient boy,” he grumbled and you couldn’t help the smile on your lips. you had never heard someone describe Simon as a boy, though sometimes, you couldn’t help but feel the same.

“i am an insufficient girl sometimes,” you countered, surprised when Konig shook his head.

“i have always seen you for what you are, Engel.” his pale green eyes flitted from your hair up to your eyes.

“capable.”

at that, you swallowed hard, but he continued on. “i want to stay in america. for you, little american.”

quickly, you countered, “you didn’t know me before, Konig.”

he shook his head again. “i don’t need to.”

there was a dizzying panic that rose in your chest. 

“i’m not innocent,” you practically hissed, pinning him with your most intense gaze that he easily held. “i have mental issues. i don’t know who i am or what i want. i just want…”

your voice faltered. “Simon.”

then, you whispered so quietly that you almost couldn’t hear yourself, “i love him.”

the admittance of it was like a weight that slid off your shoulders, and you gasped a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Konig had gone very stiff beside you, a pure look of something dark and angry twisting his face before it was swept away. he took his arm from you, letting your hair drop against your shoulders, sighing as he looked away.

“i don’t get it,” he grumbled.

you could only agree. “i don’t either.”

after a long moment of silence, Konig stood from the bench and whirled around on his heels, hands in his pockets and an easy smile on his face, though you could see the strain in his eyes.

“no matter. this will be the last time you see me, Engel.”

“i doubt that,” you said bitterly and his smile only grew.

“you are a business woman,” he said carefully, giving you a slight bow, “i am sure we will do business later in life.”

i’m counting on it, you thought, but didn’t voice as he turned on his heel and strode out the park with a confident step. your heart shrunk with every step he took. maybe you cared about him more than you realized.

you winced, trying to imagine how you would tell Simon about this strange encounter. then, you corrected yourself, reminding yourself that you actually didn’t need to tell him anything at all.

“excuse me!” a voice called from afar, and you turned to see Yue-Yi standing at the edge of the park, hands balled up by her side.

at the sight of her, a smile crept up to your face as she impatiently tapped at her wrist. 

“you’re late for a meeting,” she hissed as you strode over. with a nasty look, she whirled around to trudge toward the office with a huff. 

you looked back at Konig one last time, towering as he weaved around people who glanced at him with a wariness.

when he didn’t look back, you hurried to catch up with Yue-Yi, a strangled laugh escaping you when she quickened, throwing a mischievous look over her shoulder as you chased her up the steps to the office.

the meetings went smoothly. as usual. most of Turner’s men had been decimated or scattered, lost to the winds as they left western gang life for a mundane one. few changed sides to work for one-four-one. there wasn’t much threat to your livelihood now, especially now that there was a legal outlet for illegal activities. you implored one-four-one to set up a horse race betting system within each saloon—semi-discrete and something local law enforcers were a part of from time to time…

the rest of the day continued to go smoothly till it was late in the evening, nearing dinnertime, when you passed Yue-Yi typing at her desk. gathering the necessary papers she typed up, one paper by her typewriter caught your eye. 

familiar, obnoxiously loud handwriting in all caps lined the top, addressed to YUE-YI from SIMON RILEY. you immediately picked it up, eyes darting over the paper, just reading the first few, formal sentences when Yue-Yi snatched it from your hand.

“didn’t anyone ever tell you it was rude to read someone else’s letters without permission?” she said with a scowl, wagging a finger at you.

you ignored her, reaching for the letter but she leaned back, crumpling it into a ball in her hand.

“Yue-Yi,” you whined, and she just rolled her eyes with a little smile.

“what is this about?” you probed, endlessly curious as to why Simon had written to Yue-Yi.

and not you, a slither of a whisper spoke in your mind. you grimaced. in all fairness, you never wrote to him either.

mulling by the edge of her desk, Yue-Yi sighed at the sight of you, lost and confused, as she resumed her work and lined up a fresh piece of paper at the typewriter.

“one-four-one is coming back tonight.”

you balked. “tonight?”

she shrugged. “Ghost addressed the information to me several days ago. the letter did not arrive till this morning. we will dine together at six o’clock.”

checking the clock on the opposite of the room, you bristled.

“it’s half past six, Yue-Yi,” you gritted out between a clenched jaw.

she stopped her incessant typing, giving you a brief glance full of impatience. “your meetings didn’t end till half past six.”

you groaned with frustration, stomping back into your office and moving past Simon’s vacant desk without even a glance at it—a bad habit that you had developed to somehow will him to return quicker.

not this quick, you lamented in your head, rifling through the wardrobe (for special occasions just like this) by your desk, undressing in your personal bathroom with quivering hands.

someone knocked on the door politely, a three beat rhythm you recognized as Yue-Yi, and with huff you tugged it open, not sparing her a glance out of your own frustration. she closed the door behind her softly, moving closer to undo the back of your dress for you.

you wasted no time to pin up your hair, eyes darting to hers through the mirror, flushing to find her gaze already pinned on you.

with a grumble, you complained under your breath, “how could you do this to me.”

she lightly smiled, helping you pull on the fine gown, exposing your neck and a glimmer of your collarbones.

“i knew you would’ve ran away if i told you weeks ago.”

grimacing, you chose not to say anything, remembering how you had done the same a couple months prior. but it was just once—Simon had written to you saying that he would be in town for the night, and you had written him back saying you were just too busy that night.

it was a lie. 

oh how the tides had changed between the devil and his angel. it wasn’t out of your own revenge, but the gnawing fear wracking your bones and those simmering, painful questions running circles in your mind.

could Simon ever be yours?

it just wasn’t so simple anymore. maybe it never was.

Yue-Yi hummed softly as she pulled your corset tighter for good measure and buttoned up the back of your dress, smoothing it over before giving you a hug from behind.

“you look divine,” she said as you pulled silk gloves up your forearms.

“thank you,” you squeaked with a flush. she patted your sides before opening the door for you like a proper gentleman.

you curtsied for her and rolled her eyes, smacking your backside on your way out of the office as you squealed, and she laughed when you rubbed at your ass that stung beneath your gown.

moving through the townhouse, rooms of the place had been converted into work spaces, lined with desks of busy men with cigarettes between their lips that filled the room with a smoky haze. they paid you no mind as you followed Yue-Yi to the end of the hall, passing by the room of women typists who bid you kind goodbyes and waved as you descended down the spiral steps to the lobby.

there was already a horse and buggy stationed at the sidewalk with an impatient looking coachman, whose eyes darted between you and the watch in his breast pocket.

“do you women not know how to tell time?” he spat, and you gave him a narrowed side glance.

“it would do good on you to remember who your employer is, Mr. Busby.”

“that would be Mr. Riley, miss,” he shot back, opening the door for you nonetheless.

you ignored him but Yue-Yi didn’t.

“and you should remember that the miss is his lady,” she quipped, brow furrowed with a glare as she helped you up into the carriage.

that shut him up, grumbling something under his breath you couldn’t be bothered with as you slid into the leather carriage, Yue-Yi flush at your side as the coachman snapped the reins, horses taking off over the bumpy cobblestone road.

with a sigh, you said to her, “we ought to buy one of those fancy model t’s after today.”

she choked a laugh, clasping her hand with yours as you watched the passing scenery with a smile, though it didn’t last for long, melting from your face with every passing minute—every minute the distance between you and Simon closed.

the one-four-one mansion neared on the twinkling horizon, a good time’s travel from the inner boroughs of the sprawling city, far away enough from commotion where you could hear the soft drag and pulls of the ocean lapping at the shores. the mansion sat just near a cliff overlooking the pacific ocean.

the first night you had stayed for a formal event with important stockholders and other prominent figures involved in the family business, you had laid stock still in the ginormous bed, buried beneath blankets and thick, expensive furs, listening to the lulling roar of the ocean crashing against the cliff rocks through the open windows. a breeze danced through the room, brushing against your cheek so real and strong it felt like skin against your own.

blinking open your eyes, you saw Simon by the edge of the bed, his hand brushing over your cheek and hair in a mess like he had just awoken. without a word, he clambered into your bed, snaking beneath the blankets and pressed to you, bare skin hot to the touch and soaked through with sweat.

some words of concern had left you, some words you had forgotten now as you sat in the carriage, some words he had smothered with a sweet kiss. a kiss that you returned as you pushed him onto his back, shimmying out of your nightgown and undergarments with a practiced ease before straddling him, rolling your hips against him to pull gentle groans from his throat.

you leaned down to pepper kisses over his skin, sucking along his neck and his sharp jaw. then, with an earth shattering reminder of just how strong he is, he tugged your hips up his body till you hovered above his watering mouth, hot breath against your swollen cunt.

with a squeak of confusion, you had gripped at the fluffy pillows above his head, meeting his dark gaze as he pulled your pussy flush to his lips, guiding your hips over his face as he devoured your cunt, suckling your clit into his mouth till you were a shaking, crying mess.

it was strange and felt too dirty but your neediness betrayed you, just wanting more and more of him. even when he flipped you over, pliant and weak from a strong orgasm, and stretched your tight cunt open with his thick cock and low comforting words. 

good girl. my sweet little angel, my sweet little slut. just f’me, all f’me.

you weren’t sure why it always ended up like this exactly—somehow tangled in each other’s bed and desperate for skin against skin, tongue and lips on each other, and his low throaty whispers in your ear that sent you reeling over the edge every time with breathy, pitched whines and his fingers rubbing addictive little circles into your clit.

shivering at the memory with a hot flush of embarrassment, you pressed your thighs together, taking your embroidered fan and flapping it at your face as the coachman drew the carriage up the drive-way to the mansion, the butler and servants lined along the extravagant entrance of the victorian mansion.

just beyond them, one-four-one filed out the doors of the mansion, Soap striding up to the carriage with a loud greeting. the coachman opened the door for you but Soap waved him away, outstretched his hand to you with a rugged smile.

you took it, holding the hem of your dress up as you stepped to the ground.

“yer a sight for sore een, bonnie,” he said with a big grin and you choked a laugh.

“sore what?” you asked as he kissed your hand brusquely, not elaborating as he moved to help Yue-Yi out the carriage as well.

you walked up the steps of the entrance, John and Kate calling out to you in greeting. your eyes darted over Gaz and Simon, looking like a pair of twin statues with the way their arms were crossed over their chests and a stoic look pinched their face.

you bit back a scoff, letting Kate pull you into a soft hug as John looked down at you with an affectionate smile, hands clasped behind his back. turning to Gaz, he gave you a curt nod which you returned.

eyes sliding to Simon’s, his arms dropped to his sides, hands clenching and unclenching, lips parting like he was going to say something, but Yue-Yi materialized at your back in an instant, and his mouth closed, jaw clenched.

“Yue-Yi,” he greeted with a nod. she just tilted her head in response, a menacing scowl twisting her lips.

the look they shared passed something between them that you couldn’t decipher—like a silent argument ensued in the air between them before he let out a low huff, sending you a lingering look, before he followed one-four-one into the mansion.

promptly, you turned to Yue-Yi.

“what was that?” you probed, and she completely ignored you, pushing you into the mansion with an impatient, hushed reminder that you were late.

you bit back your frustration, letting yourself be led by the butler to the banquet table stacked with half-eaten food and empty bottles of whiskey and wine, the vaqueros loud laughter and chatter filling the cavernous dining room. they all stood at your presence, which you protested with a startled squeak, sitting down in an plush chair near the head of the table where John sat, and right beside Simon.

Simon pushed in your chair with an ease, face blank as he plopped in the seat next to you, lacking manners when he leaned an elbow on the table, a tense silence filling the space between you.

desperately, you ignored it, grateful that Yue-Yi flanked your other side, and looked down to the other end where Alejandro, Rudolfo, Kate, and Maria sat, a raucous laughter and chatter ensued. it filled the whole room with an expanding joy that you rode—joining in on a few conversations across the table, hyper aware of the quiet, hulking man beside you sharing low murmurs with John and Gaz.

his hand crept over to the arm of your seat, long fingers hanging off the edge where he rested his forearm, fingertips barely brushing over your thigh. you shot him a look from your peripheral, but he was still braced against his other forearm, leaning over to speak in John’s ear, his face furrowed as he nodded along to Simon’s words.

across the table, Soap piled your plate with food, one hand spooning out generous portions from different platters and the other tipping back a glass of whiskey into his mouth.

with a sheepish laugh, you thanked him, happy to finally have a meal after such a long, exhausting day.

you took a big spoonful of mashed potatoes, chewing happily when a vaquero across the table pointed out you got some on the corner of your lips with a mix of sign language and a couple words in english. embarrassed you swiped at it, but he just laughed, saying something in spanish as he smiled at you.

then, you recognized him—his twinkling brown eyes and gentle smile, tanned skin, dark slick backed hair that parted and curled around his ears. handsome in a soft, pretty way.

“it’s you!” you exclaimed, happy to see a familiar face.

he nodded, pointing to himself. “i am Javier.”

“your name is Javier?” 

he nodded again, then pointed at you. “you are Angel.”

with a blush, you shifted in your seat, changing the subject quickly. “how are you?”

when he looked confused, you tried to rephrase, “how are you feeling? good? bad?”

his let out an ah, eyes twinkling as he leaned forward in his seat. “good.”

then, he tilted his head. “escuche que eres la chica de Ghost. pero ya no lo parece.”

he was looking you up and down. “te ves tan bonita esta noche, Angel.”

his words were hushed, just loud enough so that only you could hear. there was a different, more intimate tone in them that had the heat in your cheeks just thickening.

“what?” you choked and his smile only widened.

you looked to Yue-Yi beside you, locked in conversation with someone on her other side, growing uncomfortable under the vaquero’s curious, lingering gaze.

you had thought that no one had heard when a strong arm had curled around your waist, dragging your entire chair across the floor with a screech so you were flush to his side.

“¿todavia parece que no es mia cabron?” Simon’s words were a low snarl that carried through the room and cut through the end of the other table. immediately, the room quieted, and Alejandro’s eyes darted up from his conversation, the smile melting off his face.

with a deadly amount of leisure, Simon threw his revolver on the table, eyes a glare full of challenge at Javier. you stared at the hard lines of his face and panicked, knowing he’d hold to whatever word he had just delivered if it was something as trivial as his male ego being threatened. especially if he thought you were being threatened.

when Javier reached for his own revolver beneath the table, you threw up a hand, standing to shield Simon.

“wait—!”

but Alejandro beat you to it. “Javier.”

Javier looked down the table at his leader that stood, hunched over and knuckles pressed against the table. Alejandro shook his head lightly, and Kate heaved a sigh, her cutlery clattering against her plate as she put them down.

“here they go again,” she grumbled distantly, blue eyes flashing when they met yours.

after a long pause, Javier finally leaned back into his chair with a huff, then turned his gaze to you once more.

“debo haberme equivocado. lo siento Angel.”

the smile on his face was deceptively soft, eyes never leaving your wide ones as he spoke, and Simon’s grip only tightened on your waist.

“Javier,” Alejandro repeated, sounding impatient, though Javier’s gaze on you was unflinching.

for a long, terrible, twisted moment, you watched Simon’s hand twitch by his revolver before it curled into a fist, and he sat back against his chair with a thud and a low grunt. finally, Javier looked away, and you sunk back into your chair, gasping a breath you didn't know you were holding.

at that, Alejandro straightened and held a bottle of whiskey up into the air with a smile.

“no need to fight my brothers and sisters. we’re here to celebrate our victory, vaqueros and vaqueras!”

at that, the table cheered and resumed its festivities, retopping their drinks with a tipsy hand so that their drinks fizzed over with liquid that soaked into the tablecloth. then, Alejandro gestured his bottle to you, meeting your eyes, mouthing out the words so that only you and Simon could see.

“to the devil and his angel.”

he took a big swing of the whiskey bottle, and the muddled feeling in you only sunk, jolting when Simon pressed his lips to your ear.

“sit in my lap,” he commanded and you shot him a glare.

“you haven’t talked to me all night,” you hissed under your breath and he narrowed his eyes at you.

“you haven’t either,” he countered, which you thought was rather immature as you looked up at him with a pinched expression.

with a little yelp, you jolted when his hand lazily slid around your throat. “and i wasn’t asking, princess.”

swallowing hard, you let him pick you up and drop you in his lap, curling both arms around you in a vice, chin tucked over your shoulder. you told yourself, chanted to yourself, that you were doing it to prevent any further bloodshed already spilled between the men and women of the room, your eyes darting over Kate and Maria flush together at the end of the table.

you clutched at Simon’s strong arms, leaning back into his massive body, turning your cheek so that your forehead was against his jaw, closing your eyes.

“sleepy?” he offered, voice gruff in your ear. gently, he kissed the lobe of your ear, and a resolute ache wracked your chest.

you realized, in his arms, this was the first time in multiple days since he had held you. you reached back to clutch at his neck, sinking into him.

“mhmm,” you hummed, grateful that Gaz and John ignored the pair of you in their own conversation.

then, he kissed your neck softly. “i can take you to bed.”

the suggestiveness of his words don’t go unnoticed. “now?”

“no one will say anythin’,” he promised, already pushing you off his lap softly. even if half the table watched you disappear through the rooms of the mansion with Simon’s arm wrapped around your waist, you found yourself completely uncaring, just nuzzling closer into him.

once you were both completely out of sight, he hooked an arm under your knees and carried you up the stairs and into a random room shrouded with darkness, the blankets and furs soft against your back when he laid you out over a bed.

you watched him undress in silence, undoing his vest and then his button up before you heard the clink of a belt in the dark and his dress pants dropped to the floor. he crawled over to you, completely bare for your greedy eyes.

“let me?” he asked softly, finger hooking in the low collar of your evening gown, and you nodded, letting him sit you up and unbutton the back of your dress. you tugged it over your head, uncaring that it crumpled the fabric, and flipped your hair over your shoulder, turning so you offered your back to him.

when he made no move to your corset, you sent him a confused look over your shoulder, lips parting at the sight of him breathing shallow, and swollen, veiny cock pressed against his thigh.

he edged forward with a low curse, kissing your shoulder as he untied your corset expertly, too expertly now, with a clumsy rush, your breasts bouncing when he practically ripped the thing from your torso.

a gasp escaped you when he bound an arm around your chest, kneading at your breast while his other hand tugged at the hem of your drawers. you lifted your hips, awkwardly shimmying out of them in his tight hold. he tore it the rest of the way down, and you chided him with disapproval that he ignored, arms squeezing you tight to his muscled, warm chest.

you could feel his feverish cock pressed into the curve of your ass, and you reached down blindly to stroke him but he grumbled out something like a no, burying his face into your hair and neck as he just held you there in that awkward position.

you clutched at his arms, feeling the muscled strength of them tense beneath your touch. “Simon?”

he hummed distantly, pressing pleasant kisses to your skin.

“i need to show you something,” he said, untangling himself from your body for a brief moment to step away and search for something on the floor. he took something from the pocket of his discarded pants, silvery and shiny in the dim light as he crawled back onto the bed and pulled you flush to him once more.

he looped both arms in front of your chest, the silver thing dangling in the air in front of your face.

you gasped at the sight of the pink jewel embedded in an ornate silver casing—dazzling even in the low light. it wasn’t unlike Simon to bring you back trinkets and small mementos from his travels, though they were always discrete, left on your nightstand after an intimate night, or the kitchen table in your apartment. 

this was the first time he had directly presented you with something so romantic.

with a content hum at your reaction, he clasped it around your neck, pulling your hair out from under the silver chain, pressing his lips along the necklace against your skin. the contrast between its cold metal and his hot kisses left you shivering.

“what is it?” you asked in wonder, clutching at the jewel against your chest.

“pink tourmaline,” he slurred against your skin. you met his half-lidded gaze from over your shoulder.

“s’my birthstone,” he said, voice deceptively soft as he reached around to toy with it in your fingers. a heat slithered down to your core, and you had to clench your thighs together to stave off the aching pressure of it.

the act was so possessive it left you hot with delirium.

physically branding you as his, a happy voice sung in your somewhere, though the logic of your mind swatted at it, reminding you this wasn’t how you wanted it.

you bit down on your lip, feeling conflicted as you stared down at the jewel in his fingertips.

when you didn’t respond to him, Simon gently pressed you onto your back, sliding over your body to study your face with a blank expression.

“what’s wrong, lovely? you don’t like it?”

you shook your head, reaching up to cup his cheek. “no. i like it. it’s just…”

he tilted his head, eyes flitting down to your exposed, swollen breast from his kneading, then up again.

“fuck me,” you offered, and his face pinched, pulling back from your touch so he sat back on his haunches.

“what’re you not tellin’ me, lovely?” he asked, angling your chin down so you were looking right into his dark eyes.

you swallowed hard. “Konig came and talked to me.”

he stiffened, grip on your chin tightening as he frowned. “he didn’t touch you, did he?”

“no,” you said, clutching at his wrist, “he told me that he wanted to stay in the city for me.”

with as much honesty as you could muster, you told him, “i realized that i care about him more than i believed.”

his hand dropped from your face, jaw clenched as a new void look swept through his expression, which left you icy inside and out.

“you want to tell me that you love him?” there was such a strain in his voice that it didn’t sound like his own.

“no,” you said immediately, and the tight bunch of his shoulders dropped. “i want...”

that voice in your head screamed and you tried to bury it but it came out wracking and loud. you screwed your eyes shut. 

you Simon, it screamed. i want you. you wanted him so bad it was soul-crushing. you wanted him so bad you’d rather deny yourself of the need, ignore him endlessly, if it meant that he wouldn’t… reject you.

those same, sharp questions pierced finally broke the barricade of your mind. could you ever hope for Simon to be yours? would he ever think you an equal? was it more than the power balance you felt it to be?

you looked into his stoic face.

“i want to start over.”

he tilted his head, voice rough. “start over.”

you nodded. “i’m a business woman. i’m a murderer. i’ve done awful things. i’m not innocent anymore.” 

you held your breath, hoping with all your might he would believe your words. you were so, so, so very afraid that he cared for a girl that you weren’t anymore.

you are a woman now, Yue-Yi had said to you with wonder after your reunion in san francisco, marveled that you had survived the harrowing gang war. 

he edged closer to you, creeping over you so his body bowed down to your own. his hands slid up to your cheeks, holding your face as he brushed his thumb over your cheek. his dark eyes flitted between yours. 

you pressed on. “let’s do everything over. no more secrets. retell me ones i’ve already learned.”

when he was silent, you reached up to gently hold his face in your palms in return.

“the one i love is you,” you admitted, amazed at how the weight slid right from your shoulders into some intangible pit below, just how it had been that noon with Konig.

you searched his eyes, finding nothing changed in them after your words. just Simon’s brown eyes. still just Simon. the clarity in that realization was like finally finding a foothold after months of free fall.

“you’ve changed Angel,” he said, quietly, like he was in awe.

your breath hitched. “is that bad?”

“‘course not. is this what you’ve been worrying your pretty little head about for months?”

you frowned. “yes.”

his whole body relaxed, easing down to trap you beneath his muscled body. “i thought you were rethinkin’ about marrying me.”

you winced, because in all technicality you were, but not because you were doubting him. you were doubting all of the unreliable circumstances that danced around the two of you.

he said softer, “i thought you didn’t want me anymore.”

“i want you more than anything,” you squeaked and he cocked his head. 

only you could decipher it as the silent question that it was. then why’d you do all that to me?

your breath hitched, the guilt of neglecting him like a crashing, icy wave splashing over you. or, rather, you had neglected yourself.

“i can’t explain it,” you choked and he rubbed a hand over your chest.

“take your time Angel.”

shimmering tears glossed your eyes, and you said quicker than you thought, “i wanna be equals.”

the slow, soothing circles he drew against your chest stopped. “equals?”

“i wanna be more than this,” you said, clutching at the jewel on your chest, hoping with every fiber of your being that he understood.

more than the once innocent and naive girl he kidnapped.

but he was just silent for a long moment, eyes darting between your face and the little jewel, and you made a strangled noise of frustration.

“i want you to be mine, too,” you admitted, so embarrassed by the proposition that you couldn’t look at him.

when his silence just continued, your eyes darted over to meet his, face void of anything perceptible before he suddenly smothered a laugh, pressing a fist to his lips and twisting away so you couldn’t see his face.

“what—”

you scrambled up to see him keeled over by the edge of the bed, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

“Simon!” you shouted, kicking at his shoulder to get him to quit it, but that only goaded him on. 

with a sniffle, you wiped at the tears in your eyes and scrambled from the bed, standing up to stomp out of the room. even if you were naked and all, you didn’t care.

“don’t even try to run away,” he growled between laughter, winding an arm around your waist and pulling you back so you fell back against his chest with a yelp, fighting him as he wrestled you back down to the bed.

when your cheek was pressed against the mattress, back arched and ass pressed to his hips, you slumped with defeat and he let out a low, approving hum, laughter finally subsiding as he bent over you to nose at the crown of your head.

once he settled above you, he hummed again, an iron grip around both of your forearms that were pressed to the bed. he kneed your thighs apart, cunt spread and presented to him in the most indecent way possible. 

you shuddered, a burning heat in your tummy.

“silly girl,” he murmured, hips sliding forward to press his leaking cock into the softness of your inner thigh.

you gasped, squirming around in his grip, trapped beneath him.

“my cock was made for this pretty pussy,” he rasped, low enough that it sent goosebumps across your skin, a little whimper torn from your lips. 

“made for you,” he emphasized, picking up a hand that pinned down your forearm.

you looked down between your quivering legs, watching him wrap a large hand around his length and pump his cock a couple times before lining up with your entrance.

“already?” you whined, shaking at the feeling of his drooling tip pushing through your gooey folds.

“you can take it can’t you?” he cooed softly, leaning down to press a messy kiss to your cheek.

of course you could, you wanted to say, but the memory of how the stretch of your cunt around his big cock burned even when he prepared you made you tremble.

but that didn’t stop you from wiggling your hips back into him, wanting him to just slide in already, the wetness of your cunt hot and unbearable. you couldn’t keep from whimpering against the sheets for him.

at your meek display of submission, he whispered in a low, throaty tone, “good girl.”

slowly, he pressed his cock into your unstretched cunt, smothering your cries against the blankets. you screwed your eyes shut, tears slipping down your cheeks as you half-sobbed.

Simon smoothed a hand down your spine, his other hand going between your thighs to circle at your aching clit as he plunged further in.

“hurts,” you whined and he hummed, kissing your shoulder blade.

“want me to stop?” he offered softly, but you immediately shook your head, wanting to please him.

always wanting to please him.

“you’re perfect,” he purred against your skin, bullying the last thick inches of his base into your pussy till he was flush against your ass.

lingering there for a moment, letting the sharp burn subside as you sniffled against the sheets and he peppered kisses all down your neck and back, fingers still massaging your swollen clit.

“needed this so bad,” he admitted, hot breath against your back making your shiver, “needed this pretty little, tight cunt so bad.”

the first snap of his hips punched the breath from your lungs, the rest leaving you gasping, breathless, and mind dizzy as he fucked you. rough. rougher than you felt in a long time.

punishing, you thought dreamily as his hand reached around your throat and squeezed periodically to keep you from passing out.

his hips slammed against your ass, growling out low grunts that coupled with your breathy hiccups in the quiet of the room. it had you delirious and out of your mind, thick tears rolling down your cheeks and pooling at the mattress below.

when he stopped abruptly, hips flush to the back of your thighs that stung from repetitive impact, he manhandled you onto your back, twisting you on his cock as he draped your legs over your shoulders, bending you in half and ignoring your little whimpers as he continued to fuck you relentlessly.

when his hand snaked up to your throat again, you thought he’d give you those delicious little squeezes that had your cunt throbbing and aching, but he wrapped his fingers around your necklace instead, pressing the jewel of it into your throat.

his head was tilted, eyes predatory and clouded beyond recognition. 

“pretty,” he snarled, fingers digging into your cheek to keep you still as he pressed more messy kisses to your face as you whimpered.

not punishing, you realized, choking out a sob when he slammed deep into that sweet spot in you, possessive.

so possessive that it made your head spin, clit twitching for his attention, your hips bucking up into his rough movements as you whined for his touch desperately.

“touch yourself,” he commanded roughly, and you sobbed out a thank you, running a hand down your stomach to rub at it—but it just wasn’t as good as the rough pads of his fingers that knew exactly how you liked it.

whining again, he chided you with a tsk, leaning down to shut you up with a hot, wet kiss, tongue invading your mouth as he pushed your hand aside. he pressed his thumb against your needy clit, fingers splayed across your stomach as he abused the pebbled bud to perfection.

“oh, Simon,” you gasped into his full lips, watching the silvery scar of his upper lip stretch when he smiled, malicious and pupils blown wide.

“hm? tha’ good, baby?” 

“yeah,” you choked out, more tears running down your face when you screwed your eyes shut. he kissed them away with a softness that made you melt, curling into his touch, taking and loving every one of his rough thrusts that drove you a little further up the bed. 

so far that he held up a hand against it, broad and big body towering over your small, shaking one, dwarfed by him in the darkness.

he groaned, little strings of praise leaving his lips. “so perfect takin’ me, Angel. so small and tight and takin’ it all.”

you nodded, gasping for breath as your fingers twisted in the sheets, overwhelmed 

“this cock yours? hm?” he goaded, and you just kept nodding through your hiccuped gasps, hands running up his strong arms to sink your nails into his shoulders, tugging him down to you with a whine.

he relented, dropping down to squish you beneath his heavy weight, your thighs almost pressed to your ears as he fucked his thick cock into you, your eyes rolling back when you felt it throb inside you.

“tell me m’yours,” he growled in your ear, and you moaned, snaking a hand into his hair to pull at its roots and quell the crashing pleasure wracking your body with little overstimulated shakes.

“you’re mine,” you squeaked back, and he chuckled low in your ear, talking you through an orgasm with throaty murmurs.

good girl. come for me now. wanna watch your pretty face while you come. thaaas’ it, pretty thing, come f’me, come f’me—

and you did, every one of his words spurring you closer to the edge, thrown over it when he snuck a hand around your throat and squeezed, the cold metal of your necklace digging into your skin.

it was too much, and you came so hard you saw white, throaty groans in your ear as you came down from the high, Simon’s thrusts slower and more affectionate.

“did so well f’me,” he cooed, and you nodded weakly, still clutching at his hair as your body continued to shake.

“think you can do it again?” he asked softly and you immediately shook your head.

“no,” you sniffled, but he pressed his lips against your hair, a telling smile twisted them and you whimpered, knowing exactly what that meant.

you gasped when he suddenly pulled out of you, feeling light and airy and cold from the weightless absence of him. dizzy, you picked up your head, blinking your eyes against the darkness, pacified when he leaned down and enveloped your lips with his warm ones, movements slow and soft when he flipped you to straddle his hips.

you leaned against his chest, feeling just as woozy and dizzy as he angled your hips, dripping length pushing through your folds and catching against your sensitive clit.

“i think you can, lovely,” he said, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your hip. “can you try? f’me?”

you sniffled, sending him a pout that just made the smug look on his face stretch.

“want you to use me,” he rasped, eyes darting down to where his cock was nestled between the wet folds of your entrance—sopping with your orgasm and the pearly white liquid that rolled from the tip of his cock.

you whined, grinding down on him, feeling that needy thrum between your thighs again, and he hummed approvingly, guiding his cock back into the waiting clutch of your heat.

the position was unusual to you—so exposed in the cold air of the room, begetting you a whole new berth of control that you were unsure what to do with when you sunk down on him, watching his blonde lashes flutter as his eyelids drooped, sighing out a heavy breath.

once you were settled flush to his hips, you gasped, head tilted back and eyes wide at how deep the head of him nudged against that gummy crook of your inside that ached and keened for stimulation. 

“Simon,” you gasped, unsure what to do.

he placed two hands on your hips, dragging your hips up so just the tip of him was at your entrance, before spearing you back down.

you gasped when the head of his cock pressed right against that sweet spot again, and you clutching at his big hands on your hips, picking your hips up before dropping back down onto him, the new pleasure blooming through your body.

“tha’ it,” he grunted, lolling his head back into the pillows, watching your work his length with little breathy moans and gasps, “use this cock. s’all yours.”

you whined at that, whimpering a little, “mine” as you peered down at him through half-lidded eyes.

“mhmm,” he affirmed, using his thumb to play with your aching clit, “m’all yours, princess.”

a moan escaped your lips as you tipped your head back, riding him slow and sensual to your own pleasure, letting it overwhelm you with loud keens of pleasure, head spinning at the thick, pulsing cock between your legs.

all yours, your mind chanted, reaching up to pinch at your own sensitive nipples and whimpering at the sensation that mixed into all the others, watching Simon groan beneath you.

“such a dirty, corrupted little thing,” he grunted, thrusting up in time with your movements so he slammed a little deeper in you every time.

“gonna let me make you my pretty little wife, princess?” he asked, voice so soft as he cupped your cheek.

you nodded incessantly, babbling incoherent words and little pleas as you leaned forward on his chest, another orgasm rushing closer and closer to you.

“gonna come?”

you nodded again, pitched little whimpers the only sound you could push from your lips as he snapped his hips up, taking over the weak, shallow movement of your hips, thighs burning from the effort.

your whole body turned to jello, muscles going lax as you collapsed over him, core convulsing with sweet, delicious pulses that blissed you out, a roar of static in your ears as you screwed your eyes shut with a broken sob.

you hadn’t even realized your cheek was pressed to Simon’s chest till you were coming down from the intensity of it, mind still buzzing with overstimulation, as you just listened to his lulling breaths against your hair and the slow swells of his chest.

he brushed his fingers up your back. “alright, lovely?”

you nodded with a contented hum against his bare chest, tracing the mottled scars of his body softly.

you only noticed his throbbing, hard length still flush to that sweet spot in you when he bucked his hips up, and a surprised moan left your lips. 

“can i?” he asked, lifting your hips softly to slide his cock out the tight clutch of your cunt.

you weren’t sure of what he was asking for till he perched your leg up, wrapping a hand around himself and stroking, tip pressed right up against the rim of your entrance.

you moaned at the sight, craning your head back to look at the quick swipe of his hand twisting around his cock, hips bucking up in an irregular pattern that made you dizzy. 

he twitched beneath you every time slapped the head of his cock against your clit, making you mewl out with sensitivity, turning your head back to him, finding his dark, clouded eyes already on you.

he picked his head up in a silent offering that you took, kissing him with a delirious need, needing him to do something, needed him to come.

“need it,” you whimpered, grinding your hips down against the head of his cock, and his hips bucked with a low groan against your tongue.

“fuck,” he grunted, forehead pressed to yours, “you don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

that only left you confused, brow furrowed as you traced your fingers over his neck and collarbones, scratching lightly over the skin just to hear his breath go shallow.

“need you to come in me,” you begged, whining at the very thought of his hot, milky spend spilling into your cunt, not knowing why you needed it, just that you did.

he groaned loud, hips bucking up into his hands a few more times till he held the head of his cock right against your entrance and came all over your pussy lips, splashing them with a hot, goopy liquid as you whimpered, grinding down on the feeling.

you were half tempted to sheath himself back into your cunt, but his fingers already beat you to it, slithering down your stomach to curl up into your entrance. you gasped as he pushed the spend in you, hot and slimy and just as you had imagined as you ground down on his fingertips.

“this what you needed?” he asked, voice hazy and distant. you blinked up at him, his head lolled against the pillows with a lazy smirk.

shifting up you pecked his lips, humming as he fucked his fingers into you, spreading his spend within you. he pecked your nose in return.

“good.”

then, his fingers were sliding out your cunt, leaving you empty and cold after the accumulated sweat on your body had dried. but his arms were warm as he wrapped you in his embrace, turning you over to crush you beneath him again, just where you belonged.

stretching out beneath him, you winced at the sting between your thighs.

“sore?” he asked, reaching down to cup your cunt, and you swatted at his hand with a flush.

“s’your fault,” you said with a pout.

he just thumbed at your lower lip that jutted out, and you playfully bit down on it, satisfied when you saw a little smile on his lips.

“i promise i’ll stretch you nice and good beforehand next time. with a couple orgasms too,” he purred in your ear, and you only flushed deeper, hiding it under an indignant nod and a little hmph.

“but that won’t be happenin' for a while, pretty,” he said, rolling off you to sit at the edge of the bed.

when you sent him a quizzical look, beseeching him to come back and keep you warm, he just shook his head.

“s’improper while courting.”

you stiffened against the sheets, dropping your hand back down to your side. then, your eyes narrowed. “since when do you care about that kind of bullshit?”

he just bellowed a laugh, standing, tall and broad and stretching his compressed muscles in the open air. your eyes dropped beneath his hips, taking in the hair along his naval and his softening cock with a greediness.

tipping your knees open suggestively, you bared your intimates to him, and his eyes honed in on the messy mix of wetness caking your lower body.

“don’t do that,” he said, low and threatening as his eyes darted back up to your own, tongue sliding along his lower lip.

you couldn’t help but swallow at the sight of him, splaying yourself suggestively over the bed to entice him back. he just turned on his heel with a scoff, muttering something like insatiable beneath his breath before he walked off somewhere into the spacious room.

with the whiz of a match, you saw a space on the opposite of the bedroom bloom with light as he lit candles inside the bathroom.

in the meantime, you burrowed beneath the blankets and soft furs, humming with content at the warmth, brow furrowing when you felt them being pulled off your. with closed eyes, you felt Simon lift your leg, gently wiping your thighs and the sensitive place between them with a warm cloth, making you jolt at the sensation. 

he pressed an apologetic kiss to your shoulder before the blankets were on you again and there was the sound of rustling, footsteps in the distance, the rush of water, footsteps nearing you, and more rustles when Simon slid into the bed behind you.

you turned onto your back to blink your eyes lazily at him, seeing him propped up on his side against the pillows and looking down at you. you smiled, tracing along his jaw and the silvery scar on his upper lip before he stooped down to kiss you with an intensity, tongue softly brushing against yours, before he pulled away again.

“do that again,” you commanded and with a huff he complied, kissing you so hard it made you dizzy.

“better?” he asked with a relaxed look on his face, reaching around you to play with your necklace.

“mhmm.”

you clutched at his wrist. “this my first courting gift?”

he let it drop against your skin, snaking two arms around you to pull you flush to his chest. it was warm and inviting. exactly where you belonged. exactly where Simon belonged.

“naturally.”

you smothered a smile, slithering your hand over his bound around your waist, intertwining your fingers together. he nuzzled against you with a hum, yawning right by your ear like a big cat. 

“it was my last effort at failing to court you for months,” he admitted softly, breathing in the scent of your hair and skin shamelessly. you swatted at him, giggling at his ticklish breaths on your skin.

“leaving things around my apartment was courting?” you asked with a snort, and he grunted against your neck.

“i don’t know how it works,” he grumbled, and you drew lazy patterns across the veins of his muscled forearm.

“i could’ve taught you,” you sighed, remembering how your mama had described your daddy’s courting process.

Simon’s prolonged silence goaded you, and you began, “supposed to have a chaperone. first, you talk to her parents, gain their approval to pursue her, then—”

“i know all that,” he interjected, sounding sheepish. it was the first time you heard him so flustered, but you decided not to push him when you could feel him frown against your hair.

squirming around in his arms, he loosened his hold enough so that you could turn, taking in the strained look on his face. you pecked the corners of his scowl, willing it away, but it didn’t relent.

“then,” you said, brushing his brow with your fingers, “you fix a date to court her in front of her family.”

his scowl just deepened and you huffed a laugh.

“court me in front of Yue-Yi,” you offered, letting your head sink into the pillows, a droop pulling on your eyelids.

“i don’t want to,” he countered and you rolled your eyes.

“she’s the only family i’ve got besides one-four-one,” you said, stifling a yawn, “unless you wanna court me in front of John.”

he nodded slowly, like he was being thoughtful. “that could work.”

you scoffed, letting your eyes slide shut. “unbelievable.”

his fingers traced along your bare spine. “i’ve gotta tell you somethin’, lovely.”

“hm?” you prompted, tilting your head into the pillow like you were listening.

“i did ask your parents for permission.”

you stilled in his arms, breaths growing shallow, waiting for him to explain. when he didn’t, you pressed him.

“and?”

when his silence was only prolonged, you blinked your eyes open, lazily looking up at the serious look pinching his face.

“your mother was shot by one of Turner’s men in the street. it was a mess. don’t know how she got there, or where your father was. just hauled her down an alley and tried to save her.”

your heart swelled so big that it cinched your esophagus, and you found it hard to breathe around the beating appendage in your throat. 

“in her dyin’ moments, she asked me if i had done somethin’ to you.” he screwed his eyes shut, a pained look crossing his face.

“i told her that i had, but that i cared about you more than anythin’. i promised i’d marry you and be a good, faithful husband.”

gripping his jaw lightly, you shimmied up in his arms to press a kiss to his lips that he didn’t return, dark eyes flitting over your face.

“i think she wanted to kill me,” he admitted softly, and you just gave him a wry smile.

“sounds like my mama,” you said, trying to ease the pained look on his face, heart sinking when his scowl only strengthened.

“i tried to save her,” he said, voice gruff and brows pinched together, “i promise.”

you nodded, brushing your hands over his face, willing all of his pain away. “i believe you.”

he closed his eyes with a frustrated huff. “m’terrible at courting.”

you would’ve laughed if it weren’t for the dark roil of deep disapproval coming off him in waves.

“we didn’t exactly have a practical start,” you reminded him, thinking back to months ago. when it was the heat of a dusty summer and he was waltzed into your daddy’s saloon like he owned it, snatching your heart just at the first sight of his brown eyes behind the bloody layer of his glittering mask.

you could barely remember how it looked after it so long. you took in the handsome planes of his face just to remind yourself that you could.

“you deserve more,” he grumbled, still not looking at you. instead, you kissed his eyelids softly.

“stop it,” you chided, patting his cheek hard enough to make his eyes snap open.

“i only want you,” you said, enjoying the way his expression went sweet and gooey at your words, a sleepy smile on his lips, “there is no more or less.”

“this is it,” he said, voice soft as he pressed your foreheads together.

“this is it,” you sighed, curling your arms around his neck, letting your eyes close once more.

goosebumps rose where his fingers danced across your skin, picking up the ends of your hair against your collarbone and playing with it gently.

“marry me,” he offered, hooking a finger beneath the silver chain of your new necklace, rattling when he tugged on it.

“i do,” you sighed, letting him kiss you softly before his warm touch was pulling you down into a heavy slumber.

translations: — te ves tan bonita esta noche, Angel = you look so pretty tonight, angel — escuche que eres la chica de Ghost. pero ya no lo parece = i heard you're Ghost's girl. but it doesn't seem that way anymore —¿todavia parece que no es mia cabron? = does she still look like she’s not mine, bastard?

anyway! next up.... wedding scene 🌚 unless.... jkjk unless............. 👁️👁️ jk (unless...)

taglist: @poohkie90 @kunikku @tomiesdiet @silverianni @doublesuicidewithme @cliosunshine @one17 @mr-sol @warenai @saturnknows @migueloharaapologist2 @keiva1000 @kenma-izhu @lilvampirina @deltottoro @maki-z @leeeenistop @danika1994 @stillinracooncity @saevitiaa @itsalwaysbetternottoknow @karagd13-blog @nattywatty @oyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoya @havoc973 @mentallynot-here @aqua7ofana @ccerviee @haleidontknow @imjusttheretofightforlove @moonstonedeluluera @tieflingteatime @syddieuh @savakewl @shinebright2000 @bakugo-apologist98 @queenie-b- @whenyoushipuponastar

[bunnivez]

Can I please have some nsfw scenario/hcs with fem!chief using f!reader as her stress reliever and just having marathon sex??? 😋

thank youuu!!

A/n: MARATHON SEX? Holy moly… alright.

Times like these aren’t rare. The chief is almost always stressed, with loads of paperwork to do, taking care of many sinners, there is no doubt she sometimes wants to rip her hair out of her scalp even.

However, that’s when you come in. You, her lovely, supporting lover who just by holding her in your warm embrace makes all her worried go away.

Other times, she calls you into her office, and the moment you enter, she grabs you and slams you on her desk, your back pressed against the hard wood as her lips crash into yours with need.

She fucks you for HOURS. Especially after finding out how sex relives stress easily, at the same time; she grew addicted to you.

Chief makes you eat her out, thighs spread apart, her sitting on the chair as you get on your knees under her desk, slurping at her slick and sucking on the sensitive bud of her cunt, her hand gripping on your hair; pushing you closer to her pussy— her eyebrows furrowed, cheeks red, mouth gaped open as she moans and groans.

She has a drawer with just toys for you and her to use in her office, most of them are meant to be used on you, though. Vibrators, strap ons, leashes, collars, a riding crop, gags, even nipple clamps!

I feel like this woman is SERIOUSLY kinky. Which is not something most people expect. Sure you both have your vanilla, soft, passionate sex moments, but when she is stressed she goes full on kinky mode.

Her favorite thing to do is pound you with her strap on, she isn’t very light on the size either— almost all the time she picks a bigger size than the one before, loving the way you cry and whine on her cock.

She gags you when she feels like you’re being too loud, she doesn’t want anyone finding you both like this.

She pulls you in many positions, missionary, mating press, she has you bent over her desk, make you grind on her thigh, ride her while facing her, or your back facing her as her fingers toying with your puffy clit.

Chief goes rough and fast at first, then slow and gentle. Kissing your body as she thrusts slowly inside your abused cunt, gently sucking on your sensitive nipples as you let out raspy moans and gasps— your voice becoming sore with how much you have been screaming and moaning in pleasure.

Don’t worry though! She may be tough but she doesn’t want to fully break you— no, not her sweet baby who lets her use her for relief. She makes sure to take breaks and always has snacks and drinks ready for you. However sometimes she doesn’t even pull out her cock, she lets you cockwarm her while you two drink and eat for a bit— then go back to fucking.

You two last up to 3–5 hours doing this before she finally lets you rest, kissing your fucked out form, legs trembling, cheeks wet with tears and your breath shaky and heavy. She really has broken you, but you love it— and she knows you do.

She makes sure to do aftercare, cleaning you and the mess on her chair and desk, even on the floor, dressing you in comfortable clothes, feeding and getting you water, and finally helps you lay down on the couch in her office as she finishes the last few paperworks she has to complete.

“Oh fuck! Look at you… so cute, clenching on my cock..” she kept thrusting deep inside you, her face flushed and sweaty from fucking you for hours, but not as much as yours. Everything was hot, your naked bodies pressed against each other, your breasts rubbing against hers as she folds you.

Her gaze snaps down to your swollen cunt swallowing her cock greedily, a white ring was formed on the base. Oh how she wishes it was a mixture of both hers and your cum.

“S-so big~!” You managed to gasp.

Chief groaned in your ear, “I know you can take it love… Look at how good she is taking me, all stretched out and greedy for more.” She said referring to your pussy.

She made you feel so full, especially in this position; your thighs spread apart close your chest as her hands grip on the back of your knees.

It’s almost hard to believe this is the same woman who is serious most of the time, the woman who others see as ‘fragile’. If only everyone knew how easily she makes you break, turn you into a moaning mess just for her. If only everyone knew the many hours she fucks you, the many orgasms she rips out of you— you don’t even remember how many times you have came.

“Are you close? Good girl, cum for me, now.”

[questions-about-blorbos]

With all the proship stances you've been making recently I just wanted to put my two cents in:

I feel like the reason proshipping gets the reputation it has is because of apps like tiktok where younger people hear a term, water it down to the absolute max and then apply it to nearly everything they dislike, and people make it way worse than it actually is

"Fiction affects reality" is the most used stance i see and to some degree they are right but. Holy moly two characters doing immoral things to eachother isn't gonna change the world, especially when its a situation where you can choose to see it or not

If you really don't wanna see that thing then block and move on, it isn't that hard

(For the record i am not an anti or a proshipper i think labels for ships are dumb: i mainly agree with everything you have said and I do not personally enjoy stuff like noncon or pedophilia in fiction, just to give you an idea)

to be fair, the “proship” and “anti ship” have been one of the most famous fandom discourses way before TikTok was even created.

and I believe that if people do terrible things in real life because of something they saw from a piece of media then chances are they were already troubled and they would have done those terrible things anyway whether or not they consumed that media, as @allthingswhumpyandangsty said before, people do bad things in real life because they are bad people. a movie, a tv show, a book or a fanfic doesn’t make someone do bad things.

no one starts murdering and eating people in real life because they like Hannibal. so the term “fiction affects reality” is a very weak stance because while fiction can affect reality, fiction alone isn’t going to make someone eat people in real life because that someone is a big fan of Hannibal. my point is, yes, fiction can affect reality. but it’s not going to affect reality to the point the entirety of people’s moral compass change. and if it does get to that point then the real issue would be that these people were already troubled. not because they watched a tv show where the main character is a cannibal.

also, yes, the block button is your friend. see something that makes you uncomfortable? that’s what the block button is for. harassing people for liking fictional things you hate just makes you a shitty person in general who values the lives of fictional characters who are not real over the lives of real people.

[weirdmageddon]

heres textual transcription of the start and ending screens in the spamton love network video from the newsletter

CH 2 COMMUNITY VIDEOTEXT

NOW HIRING! SOMEONE TO UPDATE THIS ******* THING HOLY MOLY

FRI DEC 31. 1999 TIME 11:11PM

~ COMING UP NEXT ~

“MY DAILY REWARD” (18+)

CLOSED CAPTIONED FOR THE HEARING IN PAIRS

**THE YEAR 2000 APPROACHES**

THE EARTH WILL STOP SPINNING GET READY!

I REALLY REALLY REALLY WANNA KISS SOMEONE BEFORE THE YEAR 2000. I READ THAT THE EARTH WILL STOP SPINNING AND IT IS CONCERNING. ANY TAKERS?

IF YOU SEE THIS TAXT THENS SOMETHING BROKEN WHERE IS THE PROMISE OF PERFECTION?

THIS IS A WARNING

ERROR DETECTED

“WE DONT KNO WHAT HAPPENED!!!! :p”

WHEN AN ERROR IS DETECTED I SEE THE INTENSITY OF MY FEARS SURGING THROUGH ME LIKE SUSPICIOUS WAVES

[rikiislvr]

♥︎necklace (2) - nishimura riki

if you want, read part 1 to understand the plot more!!

@microwvdstrawb3rri3s to remind <3

pairing: nishimura riki x afab!reader

after niki got your number, he felt so good about himself.

he was behind stage, just staring at your chat, which no messages were sent, he was just staring at it, which he would hurry and hide his phone in his pocket whenever the camera man came around to him for their youtube channel.

just not to get fans thinking too much..

jake would peak over his shoulder every now and then and chuckle, “just text her!” he says in korean, but niki shook his head and put his phone in his bag to prepare to perform, he decided to just wait till after his performance so he didn’t have to rush.

which left you at your apartment, watching tv, you kept switching channels until something called “kcon” caught your eye, you decided to just watch for the fun of it, seeing there were groups of people dancing on stage, you figured this was kpop.

you weren’t really into kpop, you just never found it too entertaining so you didn’t know any groups at all.

you continued to watch, until a group called ‘enhypen’ went out on stage, you were shocked at how handsome they were, but then you realized something.

your eyes squinted before you got up to look closer at the tv, seeing a familiar face.

“niki?” you whisper to yourself. it looked just like the boy you saw at that jewelry store.

oh my god!? no way he’s an idol!? you got an idols phone number!?

you hurried and sat back down as they started their performance, only keeping your eyes on him, you felt your face heat up, he was handsome, and talented.

one hell of a good dancer.

you couldn’t believe you were so pretty that an idol asked for you phone number, it made you smile a bit, you continued to watch the performance until they danced with their fans too, you smiled at how cute their fans were, they then began to leave the stage to end their performance, which made you nervous, because what if he texted you now?

and that’s exactly what niki was gonna do.

he walked back stage, drinking water and calming himself down, their stylists began to remove their makeup, while he was getting unready, he grabbed his phone and went to your contact again, before clearing his throat and typing in ‘hi’ and pressing send.

jake peeked over his shoulder and smirked, “is that her??” which made jungwons ears perk up, he walked over and looked at niki’s screen too and smirked as well.

niki rolled his eyes and decided to just reply when he was alone and not being eyed down by his members.

which is why you were left on delivered for 3 hours.

you stared at the phone, worried.. what if he realized he was stupid for even texting you? or if he’s not allowed to text females since he’s an idol?

you sighed and set your phone down, getting ready to sleep since it was 11pm.

and you did, you fell asleep softly, as niki finally got back to his hotel room after getting his makeup removed, and had dinner with his members, he checked his phone as he fell to his bed,

literally face palming himself when he realized how long you were on delivered for, he sighed and quickly went to translate this message:

‘sorry.. was really busy.’ he sent immediately, but after 20 minutes of no reply, he took it as you were sleeping, but he really just.. wanted to talk to you after such a long day.

which is why his finger hovered over the call button, he thought to himself, looked side to side, remembering he was alone, before pressing the button,

your phone rang, loudly since the phone was beside your ear, you groaned and picked up the phone, seeing the number, you freaked out,

is this him? holy moly is he.. calling you?

you quickly cleared your throat and sat up, mentally and physically preparing yourself before pressing the big green button.

there was silence at first, you thought he had a fan on in the back because all you heard was the air of the fan, before you heard him mumble out,

“hi.”

his voice was deep, and thick. it hit your ears first before you brain could process, “oh, hello.” you say back, trying to sound as normal as you can.

niki on the other side of the call, his face went hot the moment you spoke, hearing your soft voice again, he smiled softly, reminding himself he’s currently on the phone with a pretty girl, and not to fuck up.

“um.. how are you doing-?” he asks, his hands were shaking so badly but thank god you couldn’t see that..

“i’m doing well, you?”

he thinks before responding, “i’m doing well..” he says and nods to himself, hoping he was doing good with his english, “i saw you perform, i didn’t know you were an idol..” you chuckled, and somehow niki fully understood what you meant, he chuckled as well, “ah.. yeah..”

you sucked in your lips, “it’s cool. you looked cool up there on stage.” you smile, niki smiled too, all he heard was cool and he immediately clicked on what you were saying,

“thank you.” he hummed softly,

this was peaceful. the soft noise of his fan in the back, the rasp of his voice was perfect, you found yourself more relaxed on the phone with an idol than anyone else.

shocking.. right?

niki wanted to say something. but he wasn’t sure how it would come out, he took a deep breathe before saying what he wanted too,

“do you wanna.. h-hangout? before i.. leave USA.”

your heart dropped, he wanted to hangout with you?!

“i’d love to hangout.” you smile, niki nods, as if you can see him,

“tomorrow?” he asked, you weren’t really free tomorrow, you had groceries to get but.. those can wait yeah?

“yes. i’m free tomorrow.” you nod, niki went on mute and cheered to himself, before unmuting and clearing his throat,

“okay.. i’ll.. um. c-call? yeah, i’ll call you? tomorrow.” he says, “okay, tomorrow.” you smiled at his attempts to talk to you, it was cute.

niki smiled softly, “okay.. goodnight y/n. sweet dreams.” he chuckled, you giggled at his response, “goodnight niki. sleep well.” you say softly before hanging up the call.

as the call ended, niki sighed in relief, glad that went well. he smiled to himself and placed his phone on his chest.

he knew he couldn’t be doing this, his staff would scold him badly but he couldn’t help himself. you were just so.. so pretty. and he really wanted to get to know you tomorrow since it was their last free day before heading back to korea.

so he was gonna make it worth it..

let’s just say,

he stayed up till atleast 3am using duolingo for any extra help for tomorrow with you.

yup, he was that determined.

a/n: part 2 as requested!!! if you guys aren’t happy with this ending and would like a part three, hey let me know <3 enjoy

tag list: @certified-ni-ki-lover @noblub-4ulolz @yourmyst4r @vixialuvs @ni-ki-ismyluv @judeduartewannabe @soobs-things @en-chantedtomeetyou @definitelynotherr @heyniki @wntersm @geniejunn @pkjay @baevsxii @k1ttylvr @geniejunn @pkjay