#instead of being pathetic in just feeling

[starkeysbabygirl]

⋆˚࿔ down for you 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

𝜗𝜚 brothers bsf!rafe cameron x reader

𝜗𝜚 your brother questions the hickies on your neck and little does he know his best friend is the one who gave it to you👀

𝜗𝜚 cw: older!rafe (only by a few years), fingering, oral (female receiving), little bit of edging, praise, degrading names, fight between rafe and readers bro

𝜗𝜚 i’m cringing rn but hope ya’ll enjoy this😭

rafe cameron was knox’s best friend since high school. your older brother made sure you were off limits to any of his friends, they all knew they couldn’t even try any shit with you. you didn’t quite understand knox’s reason for it but it never bothered you…until rafe.

it wasn’t a surprise that you formed a little crush on rafe, but because he was off limits you had to bottle up your feelings. you still never failed to catch glimpses of him when he would come over and hang out with them when knox would let you. you couldn’t even deny, rafe was absolutely good looking, just your type. one thing both you and knox didn’t know was that rafe was harboring his own feelings for you too.

it only took so many years for the two of you to confess your feelings to one another and agree to keep it a secret from knox, rafe being the one to slip first. now things have started to get a bit serious a few months into the relationship.

you were sitting on the bed when you heard the front door close. you began to wonder if knox somehow got done with hockey practice early then the panic set in thinking of the worst case scenarios like knox catching rafe at the house after he already told knox he was busy and couldn’t come over. you knew knox would question it. you jump out of bed and slightly open the bedroom door. “knox?! is that you?”

no reply, just silence. the only thing you could hear were steps ascending the stairs. “i see you pretty girl.” rafe suddenly appears, peaking through the crack. “you goin’ to let me in? or am i gonna have to force my way in hmm?” he grins.

“maybe i want you to force your way in” you giggle, making rafe smirk. instead, you open the door and throw your arms around rafe and wrap your legs around his waist. “i was waiting for you, got worried that knox came home before you could get here. i missed you rafe.”

“i missed you too doll face. we got maybe an hour tops before your brother gets home. let me take care of you, yeah?” you nod and rafe walks towards the bed and lays you down. he hovers right above you, his mouth connecting with your neck as he starts sucking and licking right under your ear. you can’t help but moan, it felt too good. you were in the moment.

“wait! rafe, be careful you know knox could see this shit and he’d kill you if he finds out it was you!” you say inbetween giggling and moaning. by the time he comes up for air, you’re left with hickies on your neck. thankfully it should be an easy fix. your hair can hide the evidence along with some makeup. you don’t even want to think about coming up with some bullshit lie to your brother.

“yeah, yeah sweetheart i know but i just can’t help myself when it comes to you. you drive me fucking wild.” rafe slides his hand down underneath the oversized tee you’re wearing, touching the wet spot on your panties. “god damn, i love when you’re soaked and ready for me like a good girl. mmm, such a slut. just for me” he pushes your panties to the side and slips a finger into your pussy, slowly inserting a second, then a third. suddenly he curls his fingers and picks up speed hitting just the right spot.

“oh. fuck. shit. rafe more, faster, please!” you whimper as rafe rams his fingers in and out of you.

“tsk tsk, you’re already close to cumming aren’t you? not yet my pathetic, desperate, little whore. you cum when i’m ready for you to cum.” rafe groans in your ear. he pulls his fingers out of your glistening cunt and puts them right into his mouth, sucking on your juices. “fuck baby, the taste of your pussy has my cock rock hard.” rafe groans and you just can’t help but stare because he just ruined your orgasm but god was he sexy.

“you taste so fucking sweet y/n, why don’t you have a taste now yeah?” rafe shoves his fingers back into your wet pussy and out and smears your arousal all over your soft lips.

“open up y/n” you waste no time and open up for him as he works his fingers in and out of your mouth.

“rafeeee, seriously?! i was so close to cumming and you just do that?! hmph!” you exhale and roll your eyes.

“did you just roll your eyes at me? now you did it doll face..well, i guess i’ll just have to eat this attitude right out of you” he picks you up from the bed and throws your back against the wall. his hands strongly grip your upper thighs close to your waist to keep you from slipping in his hold. he spreads your legs wide open so that your pussy is right in front of his face ready for him to devour. “dinner is fucking served.” he exhales then goes in for it.

“oh rafe, fuck yesss! feels s’good. oh my god!! please don’t stop!” rafe ravages your clit, licking and sucking as if his life depended on it. your juices drip down his chin, making a complete mess.

“shiiiit, never tasted anything sweeter or as good as this fucking pussy baby. you gonna cum for me? i think it’s about time.” rafe licks a stripe up your slit, lightly biting and sucking at your clit and it sends shivers down your body. he knew what he was doing and you’ve never felt this sensation before.

damn him, he had you wrapped around his finger.

“fuuuuuck, fuck yes!!! keep doing that rafe, i’m gonna cum. fuck you’re so good with your fingers.” your legs shake and pussy contracts, your orgasm hitting you tenfold and rafe slurps it right up.

“you did so well y/n. now lets get you cleaned up, i better get out of here before knox comes home”

the next morning you tie your hair up into a ponytail completely oblivious to the fact you had three hickies somewhere under your ear. it slipped your mind as you threw on a tank top and some leggings and made your way downstairs to the kitchen. you spot rafe and knox sitting on the couch watching hockey.

“good morning!” you say a little too cheerfully, after the night you had it was expected.

“morning” rafe and knox say in unison.

“you sound awfully happy today.” knox comments.

rafe turns and looks at you with wide eyes trying to tell you without words that you had hickies on your neck and your brother was right there. he grabs his neck and quickly removes his hand when knox turns his head around to look at you. you didn’t catch what rafe was trying to tell you in time.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! WHAT IS THAT SHIT ON YOUR GOD DAMN NECK Y/N? WHO DID IT? TELL ME NOW I SWEAR TO GOD. DO I KNOW THE FUCKER?” knox bellows at the top of his lungs. you start to sweat and your legs almost give out, even rafe looks guilty when sweat starts to form on his forehead.

knox gets up from the couch and stalks towards you. “do you see this shit rafe? can you fucking believe the prick that did this to my little sister?” rafe chokes and just stares, stuck on the couch not knowing what to do or say. he just gave himself away.

“wait a minute…” knox looks from you to rafe, and it clicks. “you’ve got to be fucking joking. out of all the girls desperate to be with you….you go and choose my sister?” knox yells with disgust.

“look, knox… bro, um let me explain.” rafe says nervously as he carefully gets up from the couch. he knows how your brother is when it comes to you, and his anger sometimes gets the best of him.

knox steps towards rafe and throws a punch but rafe dodges it and grabs knox’s fist. “knox, listen! i fucking love her. i love y/n, she’s not just some girl to me. you know me, i would never hurt her. she’s everything to me.” rafe confesses.

“wait! what, you love me?” you walk towards rafe, standing between the two. “yes y/n, i love you. always have pretty girl.”

“oh rafe, i love you too! i love you so much!” you steal a kiss from him, even in front of your pissed off brother. you could care less.

“so what? you two like together or something?” knox cringes.

“yes, we are and you’re just going to have to deal with it. please? for my sake.” you can’t help but smile knowing knox is going to let it go, he just wants his little sister to be happy. he may hate it but he knows if anyone deserves you, it’s rafe cameron.

“fine but no funny business with me around. i really don’t like it but whatever. just don’t hurt her cameron or i’ll come after you, trust me you know i will. soo, deal?”

“won’t happen but whatever you say y/ln. deal” rafe smirks, knowing he doesn’t have to sneak around to come over anymore.

tagging a few mooties: @cameronsprincess @rafesthroatbaby @rafesheaven @cameronwillow

[dollyfiles]

asking bsf!rafe to take your virginity

cw: rafe x fem!reader, best friends to lovers, soft dom!rafe, first time, kissing, fingering, praise, p in v (protected), degradation, fluffy, i got a little carried away so it’s kinda long..whops

“so that’s why you’re acting all akward ‘n shit?” rafe asked, leaning back against the headboard of his bed, his piercing blue eyes fixed on you. his tone was calm, though curiosity and concern laced his words. you nodded, pulling your knees to your chest as you sat cross-legged on his bed. “yea…that’s it,” you muttered, heat creeping up your cheeks. “it’s stupid, i know.”

“it’s not stupid,” rafe said immediately, his brows furrowing. “but seriously, y/n… that’s the only reason?”, “yes..” you admitted, feeling embarrassed. “and i already get it, okay? you can save your dumb jokes and make fun of me later, just like the girls did.”

rafe’s expression softened. “you think i’m gonna make fun of you? c’mon, i’m not an asshole.” you glanced at him, the sincerity in his voice easing your nerves slightly. “it’s just—” you sighed, running a hand through your hair in frustration. “i feel like a complete loser. i mean, almost 20 and still a virgin? how pathetic is that?”

“it’s not pathetic,” rafe said firmly, his voice steady. “why would it even matter? it’s not like there’s a deadline for this stuff.” you huffed, “you don’t get it,” frustration bubbling up again. “it’s not just that. tay and jill were sitting there, sharing their stories, and i couldn’t say anything. i felt like a freaking clueless kid, rafe. i don’t want to feel like that anymore. i just…i just want it to be over with already.”

rafe studied you carefully, his jaw tightening as he thought over your words. “y/n,” he started, his voice gentle but firm, “you don’t have to rush into something just because—”

“then you do it,” you blurted out, words tumbling from your lips before you could stop yourself. the room went completely silent, and you immediately regretted how direct you had been, cheeks burning as you looked at rafe, his eye wide and face turning pale as he processed what you’d just said.

“wait—what?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly, though he quickly recovered, “are you serious?” you swallowed hard, heart racing, but instead of chickening out, you met his gaze. “yea, I’m serious,” you said, “i don't want it to be with some random guy, and i don't want to feel like this anymore. i want it to be with someone i trust. and you’re the only person I trust, rafe.“

he blinked, processing what you were asking for. and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. you were his best friend, the one person he’d always been closest to, and now you were asking him to take your virginity. a million thoughts ran through his head, but one stood out; the idea of being your first didn’t just excite him—it drove him fucking wild. yet he tried to compose himself.

“y/n…” he began, feeling his resolve crumbling under the weight of your words. “are you sure about this? i mean, i don’t want you to regret anything.” you nodded, “i’m sure,” fidgeting with your shirt, “i trust you, rafe. i wouldn’t ask if i didn’t.”

he hesitated, the weight of your trust settling over him. “you’re really serious about this,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “i am,” you said, leaning forward slightly, your eyes locked on his. “you’re the person I feel the safest with, ray. please, teach me.”

the way you said it—the trust in your voice, the vulnerability—made his heart race. he swallowed hard, his throat dry, and nodded slightly. "okay," he murmured, leaning closer, his eyes piercing through yours.

rafe moved slowly, giving you every opportunity to back out. his hand cupped your cheek as he leaned in, your lips brushing only softly at first. but as you responded, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, the kiss deepened, growing more intense.

your breaths mingled, and rafe's hands moved to your waist, guiding you gently as he eased you back onto the bed. "tell me if you want to stop," he whispered against your lips, his voice low and warm.

"i won't," you assured him, biting your lip in anticipation. even though you felt super nervous, rafe’s presence calmed you down, his touch sending sparks through you. just then his fingers paused at the hem of your shirt, looking up at you with soft eyes, "can i...?"

"yes," you whispered. rafe slid the fabric up slowly, his movements deliberate and respectful. every step, every touch, was cautious, ensuring you were comfortable. he tossed the shirt aside, followed by your shorts, going until you were bare. his hands grazed your skin, pulling back slightly to take in your naked form, his breath catching in his throat.

he had seen you in bikinis countless times before, even underwear, but this—this was entirely different. the soft curves of your body, the delicate flush of your skin, the way your chest rose and fell with every nervous breath—he was utterly captivated. the fact that you had chosen him to be your first left him star-struck, a mixture of awe and protectiveness washing over him.

he swallowed hard, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin as though afraid to break you. his voice was thick with emotion as he murmured, "you're fucking perfect." you gave him a small, shy smile, your hands fidgeting slightly at your sides. rafe leaned down, kissing your shoulder, your collarbone, and the curve of your neck.

he could feel you relax beneath him, your body responding to his every move. when he reached just at your lower stomach, he paused, looking up at you with quiet intensity. "you tell me if anything feels wrong, okay?" you nodded, your heart racing. "mhm."

rafe’s hand slid lower, his fingers brushing against the sensitive spot between your thighs, rubbing your clit in soft circles. the contact made you gasp, and he froze for a second, searching your face for any sign of hesitation. when he saw none he continued, his touch gentle and deliberate.

“it might feel weird or sting a little, okay? but I’ll be gentle, i promise.” he worked slowly, his fingers softly brushing through your slick folds before pushing one past your entrance. your breath hitched, winching slightly as his thick digit thrusted in and out of you, soon each motion eased the slight pain into something far more enjoyable.

rafe couldn't help but smile softly at your reactions, pride swelling in his chest as he watched you fall apart beneath his touch. "you’re doing so good," he cooed, his voice low and soothing.

your hands gripped the sheets, breaths coming faster, your head tipping back as waves of sensation washed over you. rafe stayed completely focused on you, his own desire burning inside him, but he pushed it aside. this wasn't about him. it was about you—your pleasure, your comfort, your first time being something you would never regret.

just as you felt yourself fall completely into it rafe removed his fingers from your weeping cunt, making you whine at the sudden loss of his touch. “shit, really can’t wait, can ya?” he teased, removing his own clothes before grabbing a condom from his wallet, pumping his cock a few times before rolling it down his shaft.

your breath caught in your throat as rafe stood before you, fully bare. you had expected to feel shy or embarrassed, but instead, an overwhelming sense of awe washed over you. he was perfect. his lean, sculpted body was like something out of a dream, every muscle defined, every line sharp, a literal walking god. your gaze lingered on his chest, his arms, trailing lower despite your best efforts to stop yourself. the heat in your face spread all the way to your core, and you bit your lip, trying not to openly gape at him.

rafe caught the way your eyes were literally ripping at him, the way your lips parted slightly, eyes wide with something that made his heart race and his ego burst out the roof. he chuckled, the deep sound vibrating through the room.

your eyes were fixed on him, your heart fluttering. as he moved closer, preparing to guide you into unfamiliar territory, he noticed the nervousness flicker in your eyes. your body tensed slightly beneath him, and your breaths quickened, though you didn't pull away.

"hey," he murmured, his voice soft, his hand cupping your cheek gently. "look at me." your gaze met his, and the warmth in his eyes immediately soothed some of your nerves. "you don't have to be nervous," he said, brushing his thumb along your jawline. you nodded, chest tightening at the sincerity in his voice. "i know," you whispered. "i trust you, rafe."

"good," he murmured, pressing his lips onto yours while lining himself up with your entrance, his tip brushing against your puffy clit before slowly pushing inside, making you audibly gasp. he was big, actually huge, stretching you out completely. when you winced slightly, he paused, pressing soothing kisses to your cheeks, making sure you were good to go before he started rocking his hips slowly.

your hands gripped his shoulders, your body gradually relaxing under his touch, the pleasure only growing from there. rafe was careful, controlled, making sure you felt comfortable and safe. and as you grew more confident, your hands began to roam over his body, nails digging into his back as quiet whimpers escaped your lips.

"rafe," you murmured breathlessly. he paused instantly, concern flickering in his gaze. "you okay?" he asked, brushing your hair back from your flushed face. your cheeks burned, and you hesitated for a moment before looking up at him with wide, pleading eyes. "i want...i need more. be rougher with me, please."

rafe froze, your words igniting something deep inside him. he studied your face, searching for any trace of doubt. but your expression was certain, eyes dark with desire. "y/n..." he began, his voice low, almost strained, "are you sure?"

"yes," you whispered, voice trembling but filled with need "want you, ray. all of you." your words snapped the last thread of his restraint. his lips crashed against yours, the kiss no longer soft and tentative but harsh, almost hungry. his hands gripped your hips firmly, pulling you closer as a low growl escaped his throat.

"you have no idea what you're doing to me," he murmured against your lips, his voice rough, edged with desire. "you’re so damn perfect, letting me be your first. do you know how crazy that drives me?"

your breath hitched at his words, body arching beneath him. you hadn't expected the heat that surged through you at the sound of his growly voice, making your head spin. "tell me," you whispered, voice shaking, “tell me everything."

his lips trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he grunted, "you’re such a naughty little bunny. letting your best friend pop your cherry like this. shit—do you know how bad i’ve wanted you? how many times i’ve imagined this?" your gasp turned into a moan, your hands clutching at his shoulders, cunt clenching around his cock. "rafe..."

"you like that, huh?" he murmured, his voice dripping with need. "you like knowing how much i’ve wanted you? how long i’ve been holding back on pounding this sweet pussy?" he bit down on your shoulder, soothing the spot with his tongue as his grip on your hips tightened.

you could barely form a sentence, your mind going all fuzzy from his words and the way he made you feel. "yes," you breathed. "i love it.” rafe huffed, “say it again," he commanded, his tone firm as his movements grew more intense, abusing your wet cunt. "say you fucking love it."

"i love it," you cried out, voice breaking as you felt a tight knot forming in your lower stomach, his hips meeting yours with every thrust, "love it so much."

that broke something inside him. he couldn't hold back anymore, his movements turning fierce and desperate, thrusting into you harder, his hands and lips claiming every inch of you as his own. “that’s my girl.” he smiled through gritted teeth, feeling your cunt clench around him tighter, “gonna cum for me pretty bunny? make a mess all over my cock?”

you couldn’t hold it in anymore, arching your back as your head pressed down into the pillows, your orgasm rushing over you while crying out his name. rafe was absolutely going crazy, the sight of you cuming because of him was heaven sent, making him moan.

"you’re mine, y/n," he growled, his voice a low rumble in your ear as he helped you ride out your orgasm, “do ya’ hear me? you’re mine now. no one else gets to touch you like this."

"yes" you moaned, fingers tangling in his hair. "only you, ray." his movements grew sloppier the closer he got to releasing, his hips bucking into you, cock twitching inside your pulsing cunt as he filled up the condom with his seed, “fucking shit..”

the room was filled with the sound of heavy breathing as rafe hovered over you, his arms trembling slightly as he held himself up. his chest rose and fell against yours, his cock still buried inside you. your hands were resting on his shoulders, fingers tracing the faint lines of his muscles as you tried to catch your breath. your cheeks were flushed, hair messy and splayed out on the pillow beneath, but to rafe, you had never looked more beautiful.

he dipped his head, brushing soft, featherlight kisses along your jawline, then your cheek, and finally your lips. “you’re amazing," he murmured against your skin, his voice low and breathless. "so good. you were so, so good." he pressed another kiss to the curve of your neck before meeting your gaze, his blue eyes shining with admiration. "you have no idea how proud i am of you."

you let out a soft laugh, still trying to process everything. "i don't think anyone's ever said that to me... like this," you whispered, voice tinged with a slight shyness. "well, get used to it," rafe said with a small smirk, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "because i'm never letting you go now."

tags: @rafesbangs @rafesheaven @littlelamy @vampteeths @filthyrafe @figthoughts @pintrestgrl @kissyrafe @bambiangels @beausling @starzify

[et6rnalsun]

fashionkilla! reader actin toxic w chris — king of toxic shit. [ SITUATIONSHIP ] 𝇄 𝇃

“i don’t even wanna listen to you anymore, jesus fuck” you rudely dismissed him when he tried to open his mouth again and say bullshit that you barely tried understood. your tone was harsh, not a shred of emotion veiling it — you didn’t care. “you keep sayin’ shit, and i aint got time for this”

chris didn’t understand, he just didn’t understand. his jaw was clenched tightly as he watched you finish getting ready, his hands resting on your desk, the look on his face intense like he would kill with it. “oh yeah? got no time, baby? and yet you’re still here” he chuckled sarcastically, his tongue teasing the inside of his cheek almost nervously.

you rolled your eyes, getting closer to the mirror as you finished applying your powder. “when i do my makeup i just couldn’t care less ‘bout your childish problems,” you had the nerve to shrug, not even looking at him as he approached slowly. chris’s patience then snapped like a frayed wire. his hands, before you could fully process his movement, gripped your face. the dirty—feeling touch was firm but not quite bruising, forcing you to stop your motions and look at him in the mirror.

“childish problems?” he echoed, his voice low and breathy as he spoke close to your ear. his thumb pressed lightly into your cheek, tipping your face upward so you just couldn’t avoid his gaze. eyes dark, drilling into yours through the reflection like a reminder. “that’s funny, baby, because i don’t think bein’ worried ‘bout you not being loyal is childish”

your heart thudded, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you smirked, lips curving just enough to fuel his irritation. “not loyal?” you drawled, voice dripping with more and sharp sarcasm. “that what you think? god, you’re actin’ real stupid now.” you reached up to pry his hand away, but his grip tightened, his thumb now brushing the corner of your lips with calculated pressure. “it’s a party, chris. and it’s not like i gotta be loyal, you ain’t my boy”

he was silent for a moment, there was a hidden clue in the threat of his forced touch; he just wanted to touch you so bad, his hands getting to touch your skin when you’re being like that feels like something rare as gold. “do you really want to do this?” he then muttered, raising an eyebrow. “do what?” you blurted out in response, finally turning to him as you pulled away from his touch—taking advantage of his softening to slip out of it. “go out and live my life? Is that what’s threatening you so much?”

"it's not like that, you know"

“you’re pathetic, chris” you dropped the bomb that you’d been hiding behind your back, shaking your head as you ran a hand through your hair. “you’re so pathetic that i feel fuckin’ bad for you, you know? maybe the only feelin’ i have right now” you weren’t light with your words, you didn’t think twice before hitting him in his weakest spots in that sneaky way.

you were already heading towards the door of your room, the room he was supposed to leave in a fucking short time, while you waved goodbye. “keep cryin”

[wheels-of-despair]

Tangled Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie gets a comb stuck in his hair. Evil Woman untangles it, and a little bit of his tragic backstory comes out with it. Contains: A minor tantrum, a sad Eddie, a little hair lore, and our boy being loved and taken care of. Words: 1.2k Note: This takes place during their first winter together.

"FUCK!"

A loud clatter follows the yell from behind the closed bathroom door, making you jump from your position on the Munson's couch.

You're sitting there in borrowed sweats, watching a Mork & Mindy rerun while you wait for Eddie. You'd spent most of the day playing in the snow with the neighborhood kids, and had both required about a gallon of hot chocolate and a warm shower to recover. The girls had won the final snowball fight, which meant you earned the first shower. (He probably would've let you go first even the boys had won, but you're counting it as a victory shower anyway.)

When you don't hear anything else, you rise and slowly approach the bathroom door. Silence. You knock lightly. "Eddie? You okay?"

The door slowly creaks open, revealing a pair of worn burgundy sweats, a faded Hellfire Club shirt, half of a black comb stuck in a tangle of matted hair, and the most pathetic puppy eyes you've ever seen.

"You okay?" you ask again.

"Comb got stuck," he says miserably.

"Want me to get it out?"

Eddie squirms, looking like he wants to wash himself down the drain. He turns toward the mirror and gives another feeble attempt at getting the comb out. You lean against the doorframe, waiting for him to ask for help, and your eyes drift to the bathtub. All of the bottles that usually sit on the ledge are scattered across the bottom of the tub. He must've thrown something and knocked them all down. Maybe you should take him bowling sometime.

Eddie sighs, releases the comb, and hangs his head in defeat. Looking at the floor, he turns to you and nods his head slowly.

"I promise I'll be gentle," you assure him, as quietly as you can. "C'mon." You tilt your head toward the living room and start walking, hoping he'll follow.

You slide the coffee table to the side, drop a pillow on the floor for him to sit on, and take your seat on the couch. You gesture for him to sit between your legs. He does, reluctantly. You want so badly to know what's actually wrong, you feel like you may burst… but you know better than to ask.

You reach for the comb embedded in his wet hair without a word, and he flinches. You rest your hands on your knees instead.

You play with his hair all the time. When you watch movies, his head often ends up on your lap, and your hands gravitate to it. He gets the cutest little smile on his face when you tuck his hair behind his ear. You know for a fact that rubbing light circles on That One Spot on his scalp will put him right to sleep. Why is this different?

"You okay?" you ask.

"Yeah."

"You know I'm gonna try my very best not to hurt you, right?"

"Yeah." His voice is hollow. Emotionless.

You carefully reach for the mass of tangles and the buried comb again. He tenses, but doesn't flinch. You begin working it out, piece by piece, taking your time and focusing all your energy on keeping it painless while the laugh track on TV keeps the room from falling into awkward silence.

When you finally get the comb out, you set it aside and reach for your own brush. Starting at the ends, you gently work out all the rest of Eddie's tangles. The whole process takes nearly an hour, and he doesn't move a muscle the whole time.

"Alright, you're done," you finally declare, setting your brush aside. He heaves a sigh of relief, and you lean down to kiss the top of his head.

He turns sideways and rests his chin on your knee. You cup the side of his face, rubbing your thumb across his flushed cheek, and he closes his eyes. Just when you think he's fallen asleep, he heaves another sigh and starts talking.

"My mom used to brush my hair when I was little. Her brush had those hard, scratchy bristles that felt like wire." He swallows, but still doesn't open his eyes. "My hair wasn't this long, but I used to play outside all day. To get away from them, mostly. But when I came home at dark, she'd make me stand in front of her in the kitchen so she could brush it. She'd yank and pull at it and brush my neck and my ears and my forehead. I think it actually drew blood once or twice. If I moved or complained, she'd put me over her knee and use the other side."

You didn't realize your hand had stopped stroking his cheek until he stopped talking. You move it to his shoulder, still a little damp from his hair, and give him a light squeeze.

"One day, after she died, I went in the bathroom with scissors I stole from school and cut it all off. Well, I tried. They were dull and kid-sized. Dad laughed at me when he saw it. Made me go to school like that. The nurse finally took pity on me and evened it out after a few days."

He crawls onto the couch and lays his head on your lap, facing the TV. Normally in this position, your hands would be in his hair immediately, but today… you hesitate. Although he can't see you do it, he must sense it. He puts his hand on your knee, palm up. You take it, and place your other hand on his arm in a gesture you hope is comforting.

"When I came to live with Wayne, he'd give us both a buzz cut on the first of every month. The noise from the clippers scared the shit out of me at first, but after watching him do his own a few times, I finally let him do mine. I didn't start growing it out again 'til the summer I graduated from middle school. That's when I decided nobody was gonna fuck with it. And nobody was gonna fuck with me."

He lets go of your hand and flips onto his back, staring up at you.

"Kay, that's the whole traumatic hair story you didn't ask for."

You smile and reach for his hand again.

"It doesn't bother you when I play with it?"

"Not gonna lie… scared the hell out of me the first time," he chuckles. "Usually, when a girl goes for the hair, it's to pull it or stick something in it. One time, a girl dragged me across the playground with it. But you? Just started twirling it and playing with it and putting me to sleep. Didn't ever want you to stop. Couldn't fucking believe it."

You feel your heart warm at his confession, and finally let your hand return to that beautiful head of hair. Your fingers lightly work at his scalp, and he smiles sleepily up at you.

"You know I'd never hurt you, right?" You know he knows, but you need him to hear it. "Unless it's like… in a kinky way that you specifically request."

"I'll keep that in mind," he smirks.

[sarahsangelicdoll]

ditzy doll reader gets upset when Rafe doesn't give her enough attention and talks with jj at a party to make him mad and finally pay attention to her

lowk something she’d do when she gets super desperate for any form of attention… also wasn’t sure if you wanted this smutty but it kinda seemed like it so heh i hope you don’t mine

Rafe eyed you, who was trotting around at the party in a small small mini skirt with a hunky belt clearly from the 2000s and a pathetic excuse of a pink tube top covering the bare minimum of your breasts. Tan marks emphasizing the shape of your breasts. Your arm clung around that damned pogue JJ Maybanks’s arm. Body pushed obnoxiously up close against him. Rafe- while seeming relatively unbothered, was simmering with both jealousy and anger under the surface, and you knew it too. You saw the way his lips were in more of a line than usual and the way his jaw continuously clenched, and lastly lets not forget the way the veins in his arm were popping out more than they naturally did.

Rafe knew you were frustrated at him because he’s been busy with stuff, not being able to be at your beck and call as you pleased. Usually, you wouldn’t be too upset, and definitely wouldn’t pull this shit. Perhaps that silly little head of yours got too far ahead of itself because of Rafes softer behaviour as of late, as it does every once in a while, which always ends up with you in the same position: Draped over his lap on your stomach, shorts or pants long gone or in the instance you’re wearing a skirt, it’s pushed up. Panties pulled down just enough to expose your pretty pussy or completely torn off.

Which is your exact, current position. A loud smack echoing off the walls of the empty bed room and mixing with the background noise of blaring music and drunk college students. You jumped up in your spot on his thighs, whining into the mattress that you buried your head into. “‘M sorry-“ You said as Rafe’s hand ran soothingly around where he just smacked.

“Sorry?” He questioned before raising his hand and placing four consecutive slaps on each one of your ass cheeks, eliciting high pitched, pained squeaks to leave you as you clutched the sheets of the bed tighter. “‘Cause my pussy be saying a different story baby, s’it saying you liking this shit instead of feeling sorry.” He doubted your words as his hand moved down to run along your folds and down to the wet patch on his leg, all of the wetness your arousal. His middle finger rubbing tight, small circles on your clit. “Maybe since you still feel like lying to me i should just stop bringing you to all those Sabrina concerts, aye? what about that baby?”

You gasped at his harsh and threatening words, quickly shaking your head while using every ounce of resistance you had in you to not moan and prove his point. “No! please daddy, i mean it! s’i’ll never talk or touch JJ like that again! swear.” You begged and attempted to convince Rafe. You could feel his cock twitch in his shorts on your tummy, biting back a moan at the thought of his big cock that always splits you open, especially when he’s in a bad mood like this.

“Yeah? you promise?” He asked, soothing your ass with his hand still covered in your own arousal. You frantically nodded as you kicked your feet slightly, body relaxing a bit more at his soothing touch, somehow missing the underlying hint of mockery and planning that was present.

And suddenly Rafe was pulling your underwear up and skirt down. Smoothing the wrinkles of your skirt before he patted your behind. You looked up at Rafe confused as you sat up onto lap.

Rafe grinned at your confused expression, lifting you off his leg and to stand, him standing up after you. “Why you lookin at me like that baby? Said you were sorry so i stopped the punishment.” He said with faux confusion before adding in a lower tone: “Unless you were lying to me?” His tone held a hint of both mockery, amusement and completely laced with control.

You pouted slightly but shook your head no, not in the mood for an even harsher punishment just because you lied to him- and you couldn’t possibly risk your precious concert dates, “Good, then let’s go join the party yeah?” So you simply let him wrap an arm around your waist and pull you towards the door. grabbing his beer off the night stand. He took a swig and looked down at you. Big ass knowing grin on his face at your belief that you actually tricked him and your pout of disappointment. Ditzy lil you having no idea of what’ll happen when you twos get home alone <3

⟡ ݁₊ . written by sarahsangelicdoll, 2024 on tumblr! © do not repost on any third party website or repost as yours

⟡ ݁₊ . sorry for this being so late… love you anon love 💞

[sulumuns-dootah]

In case requests are open, can we get headcanons for Kings and how they react after having a nasty argument with the mc? Bonus if the mc just yells “I hate you!” mid way

Thank you!

WHB kings having an argument with reader

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

A/N: Kinda wrote this more as a general argument HC's so I hope you don't mind U.U

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It's kinda hard to have a mutual argument with Satan with his whole anger kink

The moment you start raising your voice at him, he's all red in face and begging for more

Maybe even hit him as hard as you can? *puppy eyes*

Now, if you actually manage to get Satan angry, he'd instinctively prepare to kick or punch you, but stops himself in the last second

He may be pissed, but he still cares about you and doesn't want to hurt you

So instead he'll just stomp away to try and clear his head

Afterwards he'll come back to you like nothing serious happened and try to talk things out with you

       ༺☆༻

Mammon is another one I can't exactly imagine getting into an argument with you

He's simply too reserved

That still doesn't mean he doesn't care

He does, but he's more apologetic than that

All he simply states is the truth and he understands that it may upset you

Just from the dynamic he has with Satan, it's clear he doesn't take stuff said/done in an affect seriously

But if you were to say some hurtful stuff, he would feel bad and calmly as you to take those things back after you've gotten it out of your system

       ༺☆༻

Oh, good heavens!

Arguments with Levi go as bad and are as frequent as you can imagine

9/10 of those times end with being hung from the ceiling once he's fed up with you

The words 'I hate you' don't even make their way out of your mouth before you're left gasping for air and pathetically kicking your feet in mid-air

Thankfully, since it's you, Levi won't "forget" about you so you're not at the brink of suffocating

Instead, he'll just let you down, give you a few seconds to catch your breath and ask you to apologise to him

       ༺☆༻

"I hate you!!"

"Pshah... No you don't. You love me"

Beelzebub's too carefree to actually take anything seriously

You could activelly try to cut him up into pieces and he'd still make jokes about you being kinky

Anger doesn't work on him

Have you seen any of his interactions with Bael?

I HC him having the same ADHD thing as me:

When someone yells at us, we just zone out and wait for the person to finish just to ask them to repeat themselves again, but calmly this time

       ༺☆༻

Belphie is somewhere between Mammon and Leviathan when it comes to arguments

He's too tired to get mad himself and will just let you express your emotions openly

But when he's fed up, you're quickly swallowed up by his void and kicked out Nifleheim

And not even Beleth can save you if you forcibly wake Belphie up just to pick a fight/yell at him over something

That's a big no-no

His country may be militant, but you're no drill sargeant to pester him whenever you want

       ༺☆༻

If you're arguing with Asmo, I recommend you watch out for what you're saying

Any iteration of the words 'fuck', 'suck' or a bodypart like 'dick' and 'ass' can veeery quickly turn the whole situation legs up

...Or maybe make Asmo turn you legs up

I mean, you will end up like that eventually (there's nothing better than angry sex), but still, you might wanna voice your point before you're unable to say more than his name, if even that

And what else can possibly follow up a hefty argument?

That's right! Makeup sex!

       ༺☆༻

I imagine Lucifer being used to arguing and screaming since all the other three Seraphims used to fight for God's favor all the time

So when you come storming into his greenhouse to pick an argument with him, he'll just calmly continue drinking his tea and answer you like it's nothing

But, if something mean and personal slips your tongue, expect to get the silent treatment until you chase him down and apologise with absolute sincerity since he can sense lies from a country away

[yourprettylildoe]

ℰ𝒸𝒽ℴℯ𝓈 ℴ𝒻 𝒹ℯ𝒸ℯ𝒾𝓉

The tragedy that has occured to your husband has suddenly undone, or has it? Things start to change and perhaps you have not been saved from a terrible fate, but destined to another.

Warnings: death, simple descriptions of a body.

You walked back home, carrying your bag and your heavy heart. It was nothing new, however — all evenings were the same.

How did things lead to this? You always asked yourself. A year ago, you were on top of the world. Marrying the love of your life, who wouldn't be elated? The first few months were a blur of loving kisses and happiness.

Then, everything crumbled. Not immediately, but slowly — agonisingly – almost like your heart was being chipped off piece by piece because of the stranger man you loved. A cloud formed over Dante's head. The more it grew, the more you drifted apart. Compliments turned into impatient responses and arguments. Closeness or intimacy turned into sleeping on other sides of the bed. If you asked him about leering at other gorgeous girls, he'd start spitting insults and telling you to "grow up and stop being so damn insecure."

And being the pathetic, lovesick woman you were: you stayed, hoping that maybe things would change. If it were any other person, they'd be filing the divorce and living their life free of the shackles that held them back, empowered. Even if you did, who would want you after that? The man who you thought was your soulmate didn't (but still tolerated you to some extent), let alone someone else.

So, what did you do instead? Drowned yourself in more work. The hospital was a form of escape from the cold silence that met you every time you walked through the door. All the decor you giddily picked out with Dante was indeed still beautiful, but there was no life to it anymore.

Clutching your scarf tighter around your neck, you shivered, and not because of the cold. It was due to the feeling. Something or someone was watching you. Suddenly, your footsteps felt too loud and out of place, echoing in your ears. You glanced over your shoulder warily.

Nothing.

Perhaps it was just the product of your silly imagination or a distraction from your thoughts. Either way, you weren't exactly comforted.

Finally, your house came into view. Just a few more minutes and then you'll-

A rustle came from the alleyway to your left.

You froze as your head turned in its direction. Quickly, almost imperceptibly, a shadow moved. Your feet moved before you could even think. Anyone watching would think you were a crazy woman.

Panting, you leaned against the front door of your house. Thankfully, your husband was probably home, and you would feel safer.

"I'm back," you said out loud like you usually did. No response came, unsurprisingly. He was probably in his office, typing away while rolling his eyes at the sound of your voice.

You reached the top of the stairs and approached the room, opening it. Your breath got caught in your throat.

There sat your Dante, slumped over and lifeless.

A scream tore through your lungs, almost as if a part of your soul was ripped from you. Hurrying over to him, you checked his pulse as tears blurred your vision.

"No, no, no!" You sobbed as you checked his pulse, heart dropping when there was no life. Glassy eyes that represented the stillness of the world stared back at you.

The rest was a blur of you screaming at the 911 operator as you barely managed to walk with your legs feeling jelly. You sank against the wall. He was gone. Quiet prayers played in your mind, hoping it was all a nightmare while you buried your face in your knees.

Multiple officers barged into your home 10 minutes later. Scrambling up to your feet, you led to them to the bedroom, bracing yourself for the sight of the tragedy. With your heart battering against your ribcage, you flung it open.

The thing is — the room was empty.

The men didn't know what they were looking at. Everything looked perfectly normal from the chair pushed back against the desk to the papers neatly stacked as if they weren't scattered all over the place. In all honesty, you didn't know either.

"W-what?" Your voice cracked, "h-he was right here, I promise."

One of them, officer Collins, stated the obvious, "there isn't anyone in this room, ma'am. Are you sure it was your husband?" He stepped forward.

Sniffling, you exclaimed: "y-yes, yes! He was right in that chair. B-but...where is he?"

At that moment, your head was spinning. There was no way you imagined it all, right? But with the lack of evidence, it looked to the others present that it was a good conclusion to jump to.

Officer Collins exchanged a concerned glance with his partner before deciding on giving you the benefit of the doubt.

"Alright, is there anyone else in the house who might've took the body?"

"N-no," you whimpered. "I-I don't know, but there could've been."

Before he could respond, someone beat him to it.

"Y/n?"

That soothing voice made you snap your teary eyes open as you turned in its direction.

There, in the doorway, stood your husband.

Your body froze all over. He looked exactly the same with his black curls, strong jaw, and those hazel eyes that you could drown in till tomorrow. Bile crawled up your throat as your lips quivered, all you could manage was a choked sob.

If you didn't feel insane before, you felt insane now.

Why?

Because a few minutes ago, Dante Virelli was dead.

How could this be? He was right there! You saw him, you couldn't have made it up.

His thick brows furrowed as he looked at your pale face and the unexpected comapny around you. Almost instantly, you threw your arms around his torso. His chest still had that warmth that made you feel all fuzzy inside. A hand lifted up your cheek, dabbing away at your tears.

"What's going on? What's the police doing here, sweetheart?"

Soon, all eyes in the room turned to you, looking at you like you were an alien. You couldn't blame them, honestly, you were confused too.

Finally finding your voice to defend yourself, you rasped out. "D-dante...you-you're alive?" Your chest was constricted with disbelief.

"O-of course I am," he tilted his head.

You looked up at him sniffling, "b-but I-I found you..." you pointed at the desk, "you...you were dead!"

"What?"

"He was dead! I saw him" You turned to Officer Collins, who also wore a perplexed expression.

"Maybe you need to sit down, ma'am." The police man suggested.

Dante exhaled softly, running a hand through your hair. "He's right, baby. You have been under a lot of stress lately. Maybe you were imagining things."

You expected anger from your usual husband who didn't ljke it when you messed up, but...not this softness. It was like the beginning of your relationship, the better times, if not more affectionate. Maybe he was keeping up appearances? Either way, you needed him to believe you.

"I was not imagining things! I saw you dead in your chair!" Frustration seeped into your tone. It was hard to actually trust you, especially with the living contradiction to your statements guiding you to the couch right now.

"Okay, okay, I believe you." He didn't, obviously. "Calm down, love. We're both okay, and that's what matters, right?" He was right. You were grateful that he was okay but that didn't ease your worries.

The police proceeded to explain to Dante what you told them. An occasional kiss was pressed to your forehead while you were cuddled into his side. You weren't listening, just thinking.

"— the house should be thoroughly searched, despite of this. There be somebody lurking there." Is what you heard. Suddenly, you curled into yourself, recalling that thing you saw went home. You thought of bringing it up, but from the way things were going, you doubted yourself more than ever and refrained from it.

Sensing your unease, Dante craned his head to look down at you. "You okay?"

You nodded. Though, your insides were far from it, twisting with dread.

♡

The policemen were ushered out by Dante, who reassured them that there was nothing to worry about. You stayed in your spot, contemplating.

A cold glass pressed against your lips, snapping you out of your stupor. Your husband's concerned eyes met yours.

"Drink, you need to stay hydrated." He smiled at you. Water running down your dry throat felt soothing. Then, he set the glass on the table and knelt down in front of you. A large hand placed itself on your knee.

A sigh left him, "this has been such a stressful night for you, I know, baby. Trust me, I was scared too. When I came back from work and saw the police and emergency car...I thought something happened to you."

Something was off. Sure, there was worry dancing clearly in his eyes, but something else lurked beneath it. Dangerous, almost concealing itself until you prodded too much. You could hear and see the genuine care for your well-being, but his words were practiced like an actor, that if he didn't be careful, his secret would slip.

Despite your silence, he continued. "You know I love you, honey. More than anything. You know that right?"

Nodding, you felt your belly fluttering. It's been a while since you heard those sweet three words.

"Yeah, I do. I love you too,"

His smile grew wider and he grabbed your knuckle, pressing messy kisses to it. "Don't want you to stress yourself out." Kiss. "And sometimes," kiss. "We don't know what we're seeing because we're so tired, don't we?"

Rage bubbled inside, replacing those butterflies. This was the nth time someone had told you this sentence tonight.

"I know what I saw, Dante. I'm not lying!" You hissed as you moved to retract your hand, but he held in his grip, placing it against his cheek as he stared at you from underneath dark lashes.

"Baby, I'm not saying you're lying. Why would I ever doubt my girl? Hm?" He cooed, "what you saw was definitely really scary, and I'll get to the bottom of this. I'm just happy that we're together, unscathed."

You agreed, that despite all of this, he was okay. Whether that body was real or if it was a hallucination, your husband was alive. Questions swirled in your mind but for now, you let them go due to the drowniess weighing on your shoulder.

"M'tired, we should probably sleep." You murmur softly.

The corners of his eyes crinkled, "Me too, love. Work was hell, let's go upstairs."

With a hand on the small of your back, you were led upstairs. Amidst your drowsiness, you failed to notice the intense hazel eyes fixated on you.

You both changed and got into bed. As you rolled onto your side, a hand hooked around your waist and dragged you back into his chest. Flustered, you peered up at his innocent grin, not used to the affection of your usually cold husband. Would he change his mind and push you away?

Hesitantly, you snuggled up to him, closing your eyes as you awaited repulsion. Instead, he reciprocated and brought you closer.

"Goodnight," you whispered against his chest, eyes already closing due to the fatigue.

"Night, baby"

Once your breathing evened out, he placed his chin on your head, pupils dilated.

He breathed out into your hair, "I finally get to be with you, my love. It was so, so painful to watch you, but now I can rest my hands upon your lovely skin..."

Slowly, he pressed his lips to your cheek, just shy of your lips. The feeling in him threatened to swallow you whole.

"...forever."

♡

What happens next? Why is Dante off? Did you imagine his death or was it really true?

Part 2 will be up in a week (a bit more if delayed but along that time). I had to cut it up into different parts because of the suspense.

Ty for reading.

𝒴ℴ𝓊𝓇𝓈 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓁𝓎

@yourprettylildoe

[doodler16]

LONGGG ask ahead.

I feel like Viv just doesn’t understand sex outside of funny haha bdsm ‘daddy’ jokes.

Especially the Helluva short where Blitzo says he’s a top and therefore is bad at oral. What?????? That’s not how it works???? I wish I had more examples but I think the general vibe of sex only being used for power dynamics is present in both HH and HB. Blitzo’s sa threat to moxie (and millie) in an early episode, the way Stolas cheating with a lower class imp is first used to show that he’s a bad guy and that blitzo is desperate BUT this is later almost retconned to make it into a cutesy toxic yaoi love story and cheating is suddenly okay. Fizz and Ozzie’s relationship I just can’t take seriously when it’s reduced Fizz into a sub gay twink stereotype (‘pwease big daddy?’ Ughhh stfu). Side tangent but I was so happy to see representation of a disabled person with agency and success, until he started being babied by the narrative and acts totally different especially in the Mammon episode. They make Mammon look bad for sexualising Fizz and bodyshaming, which is a good message about toxic bosses, until you remember that Blitzo has done that and much worse to his employees.

This is just as bad in HH, the Angel and Val thing is just disturbing. Like I can forgive slightly bad writing but hiring a known proshipper with an SA kink to storyboard the scenes of a SA VICTIM BEING ABUSED is fucking insane. Viv doesn’t care about representation, kink isn’t just about being edgy and dangerous during sex and it feels like she just doesn’t understand the history behind it. Making the sin of lust himself say he cares about consent just to make your character look good (because she suddenly decided she wanted him to be a dom sugar daddy instead of an actual bad guy), but then you also approve of showing SA in your shows as a joke, especially when it’s used against characters that are seen as more pathetic (moxxie and sir pentious). Vivz gets off to negative power dynamics and seems to fetishise abuse of power. Pretty obvious considering the disturbing SA scene playlist she had on her old YouTube channel.

Also Stolas is like a textbook r*pist imo, the self pitying and ‘well I WANTED it to be consensual!’ And whatever. When you’re in that position of power you have a responsibility to not abuse that. At the start of the show it was fine because they weren’t trying to make a moral message or paint him as a good guy, but clearly they had to retcon so much just to make it work when they wanted him to be a innocent twink. The retcon to make Stolas and Blitzo childhood friends, making Stolas a desperate poor baby who doesn’t know how to communicate and he actually ALWAYS totally loved Blitzo. Sure. But really if you just watch the show without any background knowledge, Stolas looks like a creep. And Viv had to justify everything Stolas did while making Blitzo, the victim in this dynamic, into the bad guy who totally also loves Stolas (despite clearly not being into him until they wanted to change things in the end of s1) and he’s in the wrong for disliking the upper class demons who mistreat them.

Viv seems to see kink as consensual abuse in a way. She doesn’t understand how sexual dynamics work. And she fetishises toxic relationships without thinking critically of what she’s really saying. Double standards between SA jokes and SA storylines. I’d even say that making Val a character people can get attached to and buy merch of is kinda icky, because yes irl r*pists can be charming to others, but clearly Viv wasn’t saying anything interesting with his character’s portrayal. She just wanted someone to abuse her favourite OC and make sure her close proship friends can get off to it while disregarding how victims may respond to it.

It’s a sort of conservative way of seeing kink culture and queer culture in general imo. The p*rn industry has already normalised fetishising abusive power dynamics but against women much more often. Viv is just doing that but between two male characters instead. Also did Chaggie get any sort of sexual stuff idk. I don’t think so, I can hardly remember any f/f relationships in her work.

Sorry for the long rant I just have so many thoughts on it ahh and I wanna see if people agree and have more in depth talk on it. Viv stop letting your p*rn addiction ruin your show 💔

Vivziepop shouldn’t be surprised when people meme on her when it comes to her lame sex and swearing jokes 😭 There is a lot of it that you can make a complication video of it.

Short 2 “Mission Antarctica” was so dumb especially with Blitzø and the crystal. “I’ve never been good at this shit.” That such a lie, when has Blitzø sucked at lust? Especially when the show goes out of its way to establish that Blitzø not only scored a literally pop star, a goetia prince, and hundreds of hellborn who were at Verosika’s party complaining about him.

Yeah, you are right Anon. Thats not how it works, just because you are a top doesn’t mean you are automatically bad at oral sex and doesn’t help how they establish Blitzø to be this attractive person who is able to get most people or use his charms as an advantage in a tough situation. I know this scene is a joke but Blitzø easily could’ve accessed the crystal.

The fact that Blitzø gets away with sexual assaulting and threatening Moxxie and by extension Millie is insane. He never actually apologizes to them and proceeds to call out Mammon for doing similar things he did to Moxxie and Millie. And it never crosses Blitzø’s mind or forces him to realize that he’s a hypocrite too.

Don’t get me wrong that scene where Blitzø defends Fizzarolli from Mammon multiple times is sweet but at the same time why should I take it seriously when it used as a punchline for a character like Moxxie. It’s the same issue with Angel Dust and Sir Pentious.

Vivziepop wants us, the audience to emphasize and sympathize with Angel Dust getting raped and abused by Valentino. But in the same breath makes a joke about Sir Pentious getting raped off screen and some fans making excuses that “it’s Hell.” At this point, why should I care about Angel Dust’s situation if some people are willing to let a scene like this slide.

I mean Vivziepop was arguing with a bunch of SA survivors on Instagram Threads about episode 4 of Hazbin Hotel (before the full episode got out). 😂

Fizzarolli and Ozzie are something to say the least. Their relationship can be summed up by “Sugar daddy Ozzie dominates wittle Fizzarolli.” They had a joke at the end of Mammon special episode that Ozzie tops Fizzarolli, that’s how un-subtle they are about their dynamic.

I like Fizzarolli and somewhat latch on to him and relate to him regarding his disability but the man (who is in his 30s) is babied and coddled especially by Ozzie that I unironically miss his edge and fierceness from season 1. That Stoliz childhood plot was so useless, then meeting as a children made the Stoliz ship unironically look worse and was useless. You aren’t slick Vivziepop, I see you with the children Stoliz merch, trying to make it look like they were friends when in reality they aren’t. 😂

No Anon, Chaggie didn’t have any sexual content in season 1 compared to ships like Ozzie/Fizz and Stoliz. Even Millie/Moxxie and Valentino/Vox had more “spicy” content than Chaggie. The closest thing Chaggie did was have a soft kiss on the lips in episode 8. Apparently, in season 2 something “fun” and “spicy” will happen between Chaggie.

[deleteddewewted]

Supermarket Romance P6

Demetrian Titus x Gn! Reader

S: Titus and you meet up at the supermarket to help him find a compression sleeve for his leg. He's excited to spend time with you and receive help. He opens up a but more about himself and you soon realize that the mysterious stranger is actually just as vulnerable as you.

MDNI

W: Some Abelism, Angst, Fluff, Feelings Are Discovered, Chairon Is Mentioned, Lust and Feelings

If you want to buy me a Ko-fi

Taglist: @kingmagnificolover @garlickedbreads @eliferraris @justeverythingnothingelse @absent-still @laura-naruto-fan1998 @lichkingofangmar @hatsubara-8chan @riokunova @sk-3-tch @futtorliya @missmannequin

Previous/Next

Titus was waiting outside the supermarket on a bench that was placed near the entrance, his cane leaning against the wall next to him as he awaited your arrival. He had forgone pants again and instead went with loose shorts as he had concluded that he might need to try on some of the compression sleeves. He wore his brace again, his leg was acting up and he needed the support to walk. This weather did not agree with him. His leg and joints complained as he got dressed to leave his home and he hoped that this trip would be quick so he could go back to his warm home. Though, the anxiety wouldn't let him rush you by texting you or calling you. He wanted to see you as this would be the first time he would be purposefully spending time with you.

He looked out towards the parking lot, his car parked closer to the store as he didn't feel like walking all that much on the way back. He thought about leaving his cane in the car at first, maybe it would make him look less pathetic, and yet he brought it with him. You had seen it already and hadn't made a negative comment about it. He looked down at his leg brace and wondered why you hadn't mocked him. He was abnormal in appearance, his once unscarred and clear face was now draped with age and uncanny injuries that would leave anyone starring in horror. He was deep in thought to the point he hadn't noticed you calling out his name.

“Titus! It’s good to see you again! Come on, you’ll get sunburnt if you stay outside.” You stopped in front of him, a smile plastered on your face. You looked comfortable, baggy oversized pants that he could only assume were pajama pants and a loose shirt that hung over you like a tent draped your body. You were in your sleeping clothing.

"Yeah, when i said i got locked out i mean i got locked out." You explained while giggling.

"I dont know what possessed me to leave my house without changing first but i guess this is the look for the day. Hope you don't mind being seen with me looking like a hot mess." You joked, your eyes lingering on his own as you waited for a response.

"Not at all. Its understandable." He replied back. He tried his best not to stare to much but he couldn't help but think you looked like a child who had stolen their parent's clothes. You were drowning in your clothes and he knew you probably were more comfortable than he was. How he envied you and your lack of care for others' opinions on your apperance.

"Let's head in. The suns only getting hotter and the weather is going to get cooler later on. Maybe if were lucky we'll get rain tonight."

“Of course.” He stood up, grabbed his cane, and used it to lift himself up from the bench he was sitting on. His leg began to tremble, he didn't feel stable putting weight on it. He looked down and glared at it, his face red with embarrassment.

“Here," You get closer to him, bending down to wrap your arm around his waist and under his shoulder, "Use my shoulder.” Titus tensed for a moment as he felt your body next to his own, your hand placed next to his side as you leaned in to give him your body as a support. He relaxed and took your support to get up and find his footing. You both stood there for a moment, you holding his waist as he tried to lean his weight away from you in fear that he would crush you with his weight.

“Thank you.” His voice was soft, almost like a whisper as he thanked you.

“No problem.” You reassured him with a smile. You waited for him to feel comfortable walking before letting him lead the way inside the store.

Once inside, you ask him to follow you to the far right side of the store towards the pharmacy. Titus followed close behind as you made your way down the different departments before reaching your destination. A long line of people were waiting to pick up their prescriptions by the pharmacy counter as you walked past them towards the aisle you were intending. Placed right next to the pain medication and muscle cream was a wall full of different types of braces, compression sleeves, and mobility aids. Titus was almost embarrassed to say he didn’t know this section of the store existed. In his defense, he didn’t get his medication from the store, he just picked it up at the pharmacy at the hospital. And in the cases in which he needed muscle relaxers or creams, he ordered them online because he didn't want to interact with a cashier. You stopped in front of the giant shelf of items and began looking through them before turning to face him.

“Let’s get you something that’s tight enough to smooth out under your clothes but not too tight that it’s uncomfortable. Would you say your leg is a Large or an Extra Large?” You crouched down and started pulling different colored compression sleeves, some were adorned in fun patterns while others were neutral colors like black or beige.

“E- Excuse me?” He stuttered out. He blinked at you, hoping to get clarity on what you asked him but none came to him.

“Extra large it is!” You pulled a skin-toned sleeve and pressed it against his exposed leg to see if the color matched. It wasn't an exact match but it was close enough to not be noticeable at a glance.

“Do you want something that looks like your skin color or do you want to go with the basic black sleeve?” You ask as you grab another sleeve.

“The black sleeve should suffice.” You nodded at his comment before undoing it from its hooked packaging. It slit out in one piece and handed it over to him.

“Go ahead and put it on, see if it feels comfortable or not.” You watched as he slipped it on, his other leg flexing as he balanced on it to slip the sleeve over his shoe and pull it up his leg. He hiked it up as much as he could, you could still see the defined muscles under the fabric. You had to pry your eyes away from the mouth watering sight.

As he placed his leg down he began flexing and unflexing his now covered leg and swung it a little just to see how it felt. He liked the tightness and the appearance, it was oddly subtle in appearance since it looked like leggings under his shorts though it was only one sleeve. This worked for him. He liked that it fit with the hobbies he had which were mainly working out. He worked out often and no one would question it, maybe this would also let him wear his leg brace without feeling like he stood out in public.

"It feels good. Almost like a tighter and thicker layer of skin." He commented. he continued to watch as it moved smoothly over the leg brace and didn't prevent his mobility. He wished he would have found out about this sooner.

"Does the size work?" You asked, watching as he examined his leg.

"It does. I think this is perfect for my needs."

"Let's get you some variety so you don't have to worry about doing laundry all the time." With that, you both grabbed a few colors that Titus liked and looked over the rest of the aisle for things he might want to try.

He enjoyed your presence and the patience you showed him. Not only did you not rush him but you also helped him find other items that might help him. From a specialized heating pad meant to be worn on the lower back, to informing him of the joys of a full body massage, you helped make Titus feel more comfortable seeking alternative help for his problems. This was enjoyable in a way he didn’t think it would be. You both probably spent an hour or so just walking up and down the aisles looking around before he even noticed that it was getting late.

“Y/n, I'm sorry for having taken up much of your time. It’s late, allow me to thank you properly for your help.” He offered.

“Titus, don’t be silly. I’m happy to help a friend out. You don’t owe me anything.” You reassured him. You had found an empty basket and had been using it to carry much of his things so he could browse without issue.

“I insist. Is there anything you would like to get?” He insisted. He looked at you directly, hoping that you would agree to get something so that the guilt of spending your time would vanish, but you disagreed.

“Not really from here but, again, don’t worry about it. I’m happy to just hang out with you.” You patted his arm hoping that it would make him stop insisting as it was getting harder to not cave in. His eyes were just too expressive.

“How about this. I’m hungry and don’t feel like cooking. Would you allow me to invite you to a quick meal?” He offered. You don’t know how he managed to do it but this behemoth of a man was making puppy eyes at you unknowingly and it softened your resolve.

“Fine…” You managed to choke out. Your face began heating up and you hoped that he couldn't notice it as he stared at you.

“Perfect. Let me pay for these items and then we’ll find something to eat.” You didn't know what to expect but he put out a small smile that was almost unnoticeable but it engrained itself into your memory. The edge of his mouth quirked up and his expression eased as he looked down at you. It made something in you flutter to life and it left you wanting to see that smile again.

You joined him as he checked out, item after item was bagged, the total of everything slowly amounting to a number you could only dream of having reflected in your bank account. You helped him carry some of the items to his car before hopping into the passenger seat and waiting for him to join you. He didn’t start the car's engine right away, instead, he sat in his seat and waited for a moment before turning his key and bringing the car to life.

“Is there anywhere you personally want to go?” He asked as he pulled out of his parking spot.

“I still have an hour to kill before my landlord shows up, so why not a drive-thru?"

“Perfect.” He drove the two of you to a place close to his apartment. He asked if you wanted to eat in the car or if you wanted to come to his apartment and eat there to which you replied that you would love to go to his place. He feared he might have rushed your friendship, that he might have coerced you into going to his home, but when you agreed he couldn’t have been more ecstatic. He pulled into the drive-thru window of a McDonald's and began listing off the items you both wanted from the menu before thanking the employee and pulling to the next window. He grabbed the orders and paid even though you had tried slipping your card to the employee only to be physically blocked by Titus' body as he handed them his credit card. He drove to his home, meals sitting on the back seat with the rest of his bags as the two of you sat in silence.

"I don't think I ever really told you what I do for a living, did I?" You started the conversation, hoping to kill the silence.

"I made an assumption that you were an artist. Maybe an art instructor."

"I wish. Art teachers get paid consistently. I'm a freelancer." You murmured.

"That sounds fun. You have the freedom to chose what projects you want to take on."

"But I dont have guaranteed employment or pay." The conversation died again but Titus, maybe out of curiosity, reignited it again.

"What's your end goal for your career?" He asked, curiosity dripping from his voice.

"I don't know, Titus. At the moment I just want to be able to pay my bills without worry." You sighed, almost looking deflated in the passenger seat as you looked at him and then out the window without adding anything more. He pulled up to his home and parked before unlocking the car doors and unbuckling his seat belt. He didn't exit just yet, he sat there mulling in silence before speaking.

"What would it take to achieve that goal?"

"Something that's going to be long-term or semi-long term. My last client ended their contract with me cause they claimed they found a 'quicker alternative'." You explained, "Apparently, AI is 'revolutionizing' the business so they no longer need actual artists when they can get art for free." You mope. Titus didn't know how to best comfort you as he didn't understand the greater issue that was being underlined but he did provide you with a hand on your shoulder in a small gesture of reassurance in the form of a smile.

"You will find something soon. I can feel it." With that, you both got out of the car and grabbed the bags from the back seats before entering his apartment. His home was unassuming from the outside, colored in a light beige paint and the door painted brown. When you entered, it was as bearing as you would have assumed it would be. No pictures, no decor, nothing that would scream that someone lived here was evident anywhere in the space except for some blankets on the couch. The kitchen was cleared of cups from its countertop, there were no coffee bags out, no cereals that he might enjoy, there was nothing. Everything looked like it was part of an Ikea display, devoid of personality and it made you sad as it most likely indicated that Titus didn't feel this place was home but a shelter to sleep in.

"I usually eat at my desk, so this will be a welcomed change." He commented.

You smiled up at him before placing some of the bags on the kitchen table and sitting down across from him as you unwrapped your burger and fries. You ate with gusto as you hadn't had take out in a long while. Having not had the budget to order out or even get a cheap meal, you had missed the taste of frozen oil patties and salty fries drenched in day old boiling oil. From the taste to the smell, this cheap meal had been the best thing you've had in a while.

"You seem to be enjoying your meal." Titus teased. The edges of his lips lifted as he watched you eat. You practically inhaled your food and choked on it when he started talking.

"It's been a while since I've had fast food. It's oddly good after a while." You explained, a smile still stuck on your face as you ate. He noticed how crumbs clung to your mouth, your cheeks puffed as you continued to chew on your food. It was a pleasant sight.

"I agree. During my service, i longed for the days we could go off base and purchase food and items we didn't have the luxury to be given." You nodded at his comment before placing your food down and grabbing a napkin to clean your hands.

"You served?" You asked.

"Yes, for a long time." He said it with a sense of longing. You could see it in his eyes again, what he meant. He looked like he was recounting old memories in his mind.

"Must have been one hell of a career if you stayed for so long." You joked, a chuckle escaping you as you resumed eating.

"I would agree. I truly enjoyed what I was doing." The conversation ended as you both continued eating, Titus looked pensive as he ate. He stared at an abandoned piece of food wrapper before he directed himself to you.

"What type of work do you usually make?"

"I usually do illustrations and paintings. I loved traditional art as a teenager and had a focus on it but once I got the chance to study further I opted into graphic design and digital art."

"Why did you expand to graphic design?" He asked.

"My parents told me they would only help with college if I picked up something that would 'pay me money' in the future but i still continued learning and going to fine arts courses." You took another bite out of your burger, chewing a little aggressively as if it had personally offended you.

"You are a jack of all trades, Y/n." He said, voice soft and laced with kindness.

"I guess I am. Just not good at implementing them, I guess." You fired back.

"Would you mind showing me some of your work?"

"Sure, it's mostly on my socials. Let me pull up my profile." You clicked away on your phone before making your way around the table and showing him. Your work was beautiful. Large pieces on canvas that you painted and digital artworks that demonstrated people or environments impressed him. He wasn't one for the arts, the most he did was sing drill songs and drunk karaoke that he didn't even remember from when he was a young soldier, but this was something else. He felt something when he looked at the painting you had depicting a woman lying in a bed of flowers, her brown skin and face delicate as light beads of sunlight showered her face in what could only be described as an angelic touch. Many other drawings of friends, neighbors, and employees of the supermarket were drawn digitally. You even had one of Chairon where he was flexing and showing off his prosthetic arm. Every drawing was outstanding in his opinion and they reflected you perfectly. You had some other posts that depicted your graphic design work, it was just as fun and artistic, to say the least.

"These are beautiful, Y/n. You should submit them to a gallery." He complimented. He turned to face you and he was nose to nose with you. You were so close, he could smell your perfume and get a whiff of your natural scent. Warm and almost honey-like, you were addicting to the point he almost leaned in closer to get a better smell. He couldn't help but let his eyes drop down to your lips which were slightly open. If he wanted to he could lean in and plant a kiss on them. He turned his head to look back at your phone and asked you to explain what one of your sketches was, hoping to distract himself from the fluttering feeling in his stomach. These impure thoughts about you, they were random and unnecessary. He shouldn't be thinking of you in this way, you were clean of sin, clear of damage

You on the other hand were internally panicking at the closeness. God, his scent was strong. He smelled of smoked wood and something you could only describe as masculine musk that clung to him. It was pleasant but it lit a flame in the pit of your stomach you weren't sure how to address. When he had turned around it was almost as if you had gotten staring at him, like he knew you were thinking about him and the way he looked. You got a better look at the faint marks that decorated the right side of his temple, some of them had raised scar tissue from what you could assume was shrapnel that had gotten lodged there and had to be removed, and a long scar that cut through his hairline. He had another set of scars on his nose and cheek that looked more befitting a man who was prone to danger than the gentle soul you had gotten to know. His eyes on you were electrifying, god you want to lean in and kiss him even if his lips were a little chapped. But you don't, instead, you take note of his red ears and how the blush trails down to his cheeks.

You both parted, creating distance between the two of you as you realized you might be making him uncomfortable, his posture was stiff and his breathing shallow. You thanked him for the compliments and asked him if there was anything else he wanted help with so you two could plan further ahead.

"There is nothing that truly comes to mind though I didn't know our worlds were so small."

"What do you mean?" You cocked your head to the side.

"Chairon. He's the security guard at the gym i go to. How did you two know each other?" He explained while gesturing at your phone.

"Chairon bought me a coffee this one time. I was in line and I was waiting to order. The prizes at the shop had increased but I didn't know, so when it was my turn to pay and I was short a few cents, Chairon who was behind me offered to pay the remainder." You talked about the other man with a fond smile on your face. Something about it made Titus feel relieved but something akin to a knot began to form in his stomach.

"Was that the extent of your interaction?" He asked, his eyes focused on your face hoping to see your reaction.

"Nope! Chairon and I became friends, kinda. Sometimes he gives me a ride or advice on how to fix things around my place. I'm not handy at all." This brought a bitter feeling to Titus.

He doesn't dislike Chairon being a good person, the man has always been kind, but he didn't particularly like that he was close to you. This felt like a defect Titus needed to fix. Like he was wrong in some way and he needed to realign his thoughts for thinking so bitterly of a man who has done him no wrong. This knot in his stomach only grew tighter as you reaffirmed the other man's good nature and it left him feeling ill.

"It sounds like you two are close." He commented blankly, hoping that the acrid feelings weren't evident in his voice.

"Chairon's an amazing guy. He's sweet and funny and always there to support you even at your lowest. I'm sure you can find a friend in him too."

"I have. I'm... grateful." He smiled at the memory of the younger man helping him through a panic attack he had recently. Not only did he not judge Titus, but he was helpful. He had brought him cold water and a wet towel to press against his head as he spoke him through it. Chairon had empathy for him that no one else had shown him outside of his small group of friends. It brought him hope and reassurance even though they didn't know each other all that well.

Lost in thought, Titus hadn't noticed your phone begin to vibrate or you checking it to see who had been calling you. The call ended and a notification popped up with the name of your landlord attached.

"Oh shit, it's my landlord. I have to go!" You start to clean up your mess, empty food wrappers and greasy takeout bags were all thrown into the trashcan that stood by the table. Titus followed suit, worried that you would leave in a hurry before he could offer to drive you home. He clears his clean wrappers and also throws them away and makes his way back towards you.

"Let me drive you home. It's late and I don't feel comfortable letting you go home by yourself." He pleaded. You tried not to look at his eyes but the pretty blue eyes he possessed had you in a chokehold. He looked concerned, his crow's feet growing deeper and somehow making him look more handsome. You blushed as you averted your eyes, urging in your mind to reply already as he only seemed to grow more dejected as the seconds ticked by with no response.

"Sure, that would be nice." You managed to push out, cheeks still in flamed and growing hotter by the moment.

"Great, let me grab my keys and we'll go." He made his way to the kitchen counter and grabbed his keys before heading towards his front door, opening it, and holding it for you. He waits until you're out before locking his door and guiding you back to his car. He seats himself in the driver's seat, you following suit as you buckle yourself in beside him. He turned the engine on with a quick flick of his keys and drives off towards your home with the help of his GPS and your directions.

The drive grows quiet as you looked at the window and watched people and cars pass you by. The sky had grown dark and the air cooled as the winter months neared. You liked this time of year and also dreaded it. It was usually nice weather and allowed you to have an excuse to hoddle up in your home in blankets and hoodies. But it also brought on a horrifying electricity bill due to the heater being used the most during this time. You wondered what Titus would think about doing during the winter. It was already starting to take a toll on him, you could see the heating pad on the couch and a mini heater nearby on the floor. You wondered if he worried about the bills like you did. You doubted it since he looked to be doing well for himself but it was still a nice thought, that maybe you and him were not so different after all.

As he pulled onto your street he took note of the state of the neighborhood. Old homes that have been left to rot or have been neglected were everywhere. Even as he pulled over and parked in front of your home he noticed how the paint on your homes walls not only had yellowed over time but also had begun to peel. He understood that people were struggling, and he had no place to judge as he was practically living like he was homeless when he was deployed, but this was something else. He wondered what had led to this being that situation you were thrown in, if you felt comfortable or even safe in this place you called your home.

He noticed a man sitting by the porch with a cigarette in between his fingers. The man waved at you both, no smile present as he he did. You sighed, annoyance already settling in as you began to unbuckle your seat belt. You were about to open the car door but was stopped by Titus' hand reaching out and grabbing you by the wrist. His hold was loose, almost as if he feared that he might hurt you if he tightened his grip.

"Do you want me to... stay until he leave?" You listened to him but the words didn't process. You merely blinked at him.

“I’ll be fine, Demetrian.” You pull your arm away and he gives way without hesitation. He nods at you but not before telling you that he has no issue with waiting if you don’t feel comfortable being left alone.

“It’s sweet of you, but the most he’s going to do is give me a nasty key fee since he had to replace it.” You reassure.

“Well then, I’ll see you some other time.”

“We’ll talk soon. I promise.” You gave him a reassuring smile before closing the car door and making your way over to your landlord. Titus watched as you and the man spoke before shaking his head and driving off.

You eyed Titus’ car as it left, turning to watch it drive and take a turn that made him vanish from your sight.

“Is that your boyfriend?” Your landlord joked. His breath smelled of nicotine and it made you scrunch up your face in disgust.

"No, he's a friend I made when grocery shopping."

"You always get attached to the weirdest people." He comments before leaving your porch and walking towards his car. He peels off with no regard for the other cars on the road or the speed limit. You enter your home, the new key unlocking the door without a hitch, unlike the one you had before. You're home was a mess. Canvasas, sketch paper, portfolios, and drawers filled to the brim with tubes of paint and brushes. The space felt full and yt to you it was empty. You had no pets, you had no other person to share the space with. You were alone coming to live out here just as you were back home where you were always last to receive praise or recognition while your sibling got all of it.

[throatgoat4u]

hold me again

previous parts: part one | part two

word count: 1.3 k

summary: in a desperate attempt to see you again, matt succumbs to something so pathetic, and foolish. returning to the park every single day.

warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, obsessive behavior, unhealthy relationships, mental heath issues (kinda).

a/n: this may feel like really really repetitive but that the point! it’s supposed to be repetitive to make it sadder. like the whole thing is just one big repetition for a reason. i hope you like it. this part is the one that makes me cry so i hope it does the same to you!

matt was sick to his stomach after the encounter he had with you. it made him overthink every single bit of his relationship with victoria. did he really want to be with her or was he just trying to fill the void that you had left in him. either way, he was overthinking.

one thing matt was positive about was that he needed to see you again—to talk to you again. so, that led him to return to that very park bench, every single day.

everyday—whether it was after filming a car video, or doing absolutely nothing—he’d go to the park, sit at that same bench, and wait.

all day, his thoughts were plagued by you. the park, that day, you walking away, it replayed over, and over in his head. the regret of letting you go a second time weighed heavily on him. he was desperate to see you again. he knew you’d be mad if he showed up at the restaurant where you worked as a waitress, or at your apartment. so the bench was the next best thing he could manage.

at this point, going to the park was second nature; it was in his routine. on a busy day, he’d wake up, do all his work, and then immediately rush to the park and sit at the bench for the remainder of the day. on a not-so-busy day, the moment he finished his morning routine, he’d head to the park. matt was usually the type to wake up at around 1pm. but now? now he woke up at 8:30 every morning so he could get whatever it was that he had to do done so that he could spend the rest of the day there.

he’d go, sit on the same bench, and pray. he’d pray, and pray, and pray that you would show up. he didn’t know if you would—he was more than sure you wouldn’t—but he always kept hope in his heart that you would. the thought of you never returning, the thought of never being able to see you again, drove him insane. so instead, he’d sit there, and the whole time, to distract himself from reality, he’d make up scenarios in his head. some scenarios were about what would happen when you’d come back. he’d imagine you in that same white dress, running up to him with that beautiful smile on your face and giving him a big kiss, telling him you missed him. other times, he’d imagine the life you two could’ve had if he had never done what he did. he missed you. all this time, he missed you. but he could never admit it to anyone. he could never tell a soul how much he wanted to see you again.

the entire time, he was filled with hope. he’d always come to the park, ready, and hopeful—beaming with excitement as he sat down, and waited. though, the results were always the same. complete and utter disappointment.

but matt—being matt— was stubborn. the constant disappointment was not going to deter him. if anything, it fueled his resolve. every time he came home, he told himself tomorrow was going to be the day. tomorrow you’d show, and it would all be worth it. he held onto that thought like it was a lifeline, even as the days turned into weeks. 

his friends began to notice his absence from their usual outings, and victoria… well, she was beginning to piece things together. she confronted him quite a few times, asking why he was always gone, and why he seemed so distant lately. his answer was always the same, he was working. it wasn’t all a lie, he reasoned. waiting for you was work. grueling, heart-wrenching, and entirely self-imposed, but work nonetheless.

this continued for a while. him coming home late, victoria confronting him, him using the same excuse, and then them getting into an argument. victoria couldn’t take it anymore, she was sure he was cheating. so she packed all her stuff into bags, wrote him a letter, leaving it on the table, and left.

when matt came home that night, he saw the letter on the table. all he needed to read was the first sentence before he stopped caring. over the few weeks he spent at the park bench, his love for her had slowly started to fade as he realized it was you he loved. it always has been you, it always will be you.

soon enough, the weeks were turning into months. where were you? there’s no way you haven’t once been to the park. the thought gnawed at him day and night. maybe he had missed you. maybe he had gone for a coffee run at the wrong time, or had left a minute too early. nonetheless, those thoughts were eating him alive. the possibility of him missing you haunted him, and he started to grow paranoid. so—like any logical human being—he started to stay longer, arriving earlier, leaving later, completely cutting his coffee runs out of the schedule. even then, he never saw you—you never showed.

matt was slowly going insane. he started to analyze the faces of passersby, just incase one of them was you in disguise. it sounded ridiculous, but at this point, matt wasn’t necessarily running on logic anymore. he was running on the need to see you, hug you, hold you. he knew he was driving himself to insanity, but he found himself caring less and less about his own personal being. 

december was slowly approaching but that didn’t stop him. he started wearing more and more layers. base layers, two long sleeve t shirts, a hoodie, a jacket, and then a coat on top. he wasn’t going to give up. he couldn’t… he couldn’t.

the park was dusted with snow. it was cold, and dark, but matt still sat there, not budging even if he was still shivering through all his layers. there was no way you’d show. why would you be at a park in this freezing weather? but his paranoia—the small voice in his head—kept him there. he was fearful that the second he’d get up, and leave, you’d magically appear at the bench. so he waited. he waited for you to magically appear.

his teeth had began to chatter, his nose turned red, and his lips blue. he could barely feel any part of his body, especially not his ass. he shoved his gloved hands into the pockets of his coat and pulled the hood up over his beanie, but it did little to warm him up. he was going to get hypothermia at this rate. 

he really should’ve gone by now, he knew he should’ve been gone hours ago. but, he couldn’t bring himself to get up, he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving right before you came. so he remained seated. his leg bouncing up and down, trying to get some movement in that would hopefully warm up his body.

the world around him seemed to slow as the biting cold settled deeper into his bones. matt’s breath puffed out in visible clouds of smoke, the only sign of him still being alive and stubbornly clinging to hope. he tried to distract himself, playing back his memories of you—your laugh, the way your eyes lit up when you were excited about something, the way you’d sound saying his name. it wasn’t enough to keep the cold away, but it was enough to keep him there.

“hey are you alright?” a familiar voice from behind him called out.

he froze in an instant. that voice… no… no, it couldn’t be. could it? could it really be you?

he turned his head around, looking at the face that matched the voice. it was her. it was his girl, his doll. it was the girl he had spent almost a year and a half at a bench for. it was the girl he longed for every second of the day. 

his chest tightened, and for a moment, he thought he might actually stop breathing. you were standing there, looking just as he remembered—maybe even better, if that was even possible. the cold had painted a faint blush over your cheeks, snowflakes speckled in your hair, sparkling like tiny stars under the dim light.

 it was you. it was really you.

a/n: i know the breakup with matt and veronica isn't long, i just needed her out of the way and could not be bothered with writing a long ass breakup.

toodles sluts :)

[salty-we-never-got-mergana]

I gotta tell you that Arthur in fanfics is exponentially so much more nicer to Merlin than he is in the show. In the show, he's downright horrible to Merlin, especially in the beginning seasons, and honestly, it's pathetic how Merlin yearns for his approval. The relationship is akin to a loving abusive relationship where Merlin clearly must have Stockholm syndrome or the only reason he preens at Arthur's approval is both due to the Dragon's manipulation and deep down Merlin truly see Arthur as superior and thus any compliment from him makes him feel good since you know, he's just a peasant.

It kinda makes you wonder how Merthur even exists, but my guess is that it's all based on Merlin's one-sided devotion to Arthur and Arthur having a slight soft spot for Merlin despite treating him like a rag, albeit a very favored and somewhat treasured rag, but man get in the way of daddy's approval, he can make his threats alright.

In the Witch's Quickening, I almost kind of feel bad for Merlin for the trouble he falls under when he's trying to direct Arthur to the perpetrators but he's up against Morgana whom Arthur has affections for and Morgana is rather clever (despite how her abilities are questioned for and how apparently Mordred is hinted to be more powerful than her roll 🙄.

I mean, okay great he decides to take the blame for the stone because someone stole his keys but the way he treats Merlin, calling him an idiot all the time, hitting him, blaming him. Merlin is just his servant and Arthur treats him that way despite his loyalty. It's not even the heartwarming way some masters treat servants like they deserve devotion and loyalty

I'm sorry Arthur doesn't deserve Merlin's love and devotion and loyalty. He doesn't do anything to prove that beyond choosing to sacrifice his life in the unicorn test but that's after seeing how Merlin is determined to save his life too. Merlin has constantly stuck his neck and tried to save Arthur's life and Arthur being a decent human being tries to pay that back in fold but it's Merlin who instigate this relationship to make Arthur loyal to him. I know why Arthur is loyal to Merlin

But why is Merlin loyal to Arthur? The only answer is the Dragon but why does he just automatically believe in the Dragon who he hardly knows. In Season 1 episode 1, Merlin's skepticism about Arthur and dislike for him was completely justified. I really liked Merlin in Season 1.

But then he quickly starts liking Arthur and it's like why? Arthur works him to the bone. Even Merlin complains he does so much for Arthur with no thanks.

I'm sorry but the last episode of the serious when Arthur finally, FINALLY, says Thanks you is just NOT enough for me.

Is there a fic where Arthur wakes up and realizes that he's been a dick to Merlin? Where he gets called out for being a fucking prat. I'd really like to read that fic.

On top of that, is there a fic where Merlin grows a fucking backbone and like actually does something about helping his people instead of spending all his time cleaning up after Arthur and wiping his fucking ungrateful ass. Honestly, Idk how Merlin puts up with that shit.

There's seriously a part of me the genuinely could care less about Arthur Pendragon in this show.

[ally1uvsu]

Breathe. | Choi su-bong (Thanos) x Nam-gyu

Summary; Where Nam-gyu basically has a breakdown inside the bathroom followed by huge dysphoria and the person he least expects talks him through it all.

Info; Gender dysphoria, trans!Nam-gyu, it’s like one of my hcs pls don’t attack me, anxiety, panic attacks, mentions of death (avrg squid game behavior), drugs, mentions of blood, idiots in love, kissing, actually js fluff mixed w angst, Nam-gyu w sensory issues if you squint!!, self-harm but without necessarily cutting, suicidal thoughts, bathroom fight shit doesn’t happen for their sake, they’re both emotionally constipated, Thanos just being Thanos honestly, coming out of the closet, unbinding, bruises, cuddling, acceptance, probably ooc but again who cares, just tbh actual tooth rotting comfort for our boy<3

Notes; I think writing became sort of a hyperfixation.. it’s so bad I gen can’t sleep so here you go goobers! Also don’t attack me for the trans nam-gyu hc I js saw that man and I was like; ‘this one’s going to my big hcs list’..

Nam-gyu has been feeling shaken ever since they came back from that stupid mingle game, sure, he was high off his mind just like Thanos was but.. he wasn’t sure why he felt so shaken up. The blood tainted his once pristine white sneakers, making him grimace as he remembered the pools of blood on the floor.

Fidgeting with his anxiety ring, Nam-gyu bit the inside of his cheek as he pushed the bathroom door open. He could still very clearly hear the screams and shouts of the people dying outside, the cries piercing his soul. He cursed under his breath, leaning against the sinks.

It took him a bit to realize his hands were fucking shaking like hell. He brought a hand up to his hair to tug on it, feeling that desperate urge again. But he stopped, instead, he kept his gaze down on the sink as that same hand that was once meant for his hair turned the tap on.

He splashed cold water onto his face, once, twice, thrice. And then with the support of both hands, he looked at himself in the mirror, he still had fucking blood smudged on his face. His stomach churned, the back of his hand wiping the blood away, completely forgetting about the tap, rather, he just let the water keep running.

Nam-gyu couldn’t help but stare at himself in the mirror, had the drugs seriously worn off that quickly? No, he didn’t think so. Maybe the real problem was him, he hated feeling affected by that stupid fucking game.

But of course he was the problem, it wasn’t a surprise. From a problem to another, as quick as it came, his thoughts began scattering, his hand fidgeting with his ring viciously as he tried to will his body and mind to calm the fuck down.

Again, Nam-gyu looked at himself, really did. And he cringed at the sight, some of his hair was sticking to his face, he looked exhausted, which was no surprise. And then finally, his gaze focused on himself overall, most importantly, his features. He remembered Thanos, hell, he was so.. masculine.

It wasn’t only his personality, but his looks. Compared to how he looks, Nam-gyu looked horribly like a girl, something he despised to be or even think he would ever be. But in this moment, he just knows he looks like a girl.

Nam-gyu cursed under his breath as he ducked his head down, nimble fingers tightening around the sink as he tried to at least regulate his breathing, but he felt sick to his stomach. Not only because of that stupid round but because of himself.

The way he looked made him want to carve himself out, maybe get out of this skin somehow that seemed to trap him in a place where he felt like he was constantly going to lose his fucking mind.

He shivered, fuck, when had he gotten so cold? The feeling wasn’t exactly unwelcome, anything rather than this was.

He swallowed hard, feeling the itch on his skin. He got that whenever he was in moods like this, it’s as if his body knew he wanted to claw himself out of it, it was ironic.

Nam-gyu felt nothing short of pathetic, and yet he began itching his skin. He damned himself for not bringing a small knife with himself, it could have done wonders to what hems feeling right now.

The itching just intensifies, it begins to hurt. But it’s a welcome feeling of pain. His mind drags him to the lifeless corpses he could see through the slit on the door, eyes glazed and blood seeping out of them as the gunfire ceased.

Nam-gyu could feel his vision get blurry, slowly, reverently but surely. He bit down on his lip, the hand that wasn’t viciously scratching his arm as if to try to get himself out was clenched in a fist, his nails, albeit short, dug into his skin.

He was crying again, Nam-gyu hated feeling like this. Hell, he hated everything. He just desperately needed to get out, or maybe all he needed was a bullet in his brain, out there he was nothing and in here he was worse than nothing. Maybe he could steal a pill or two from Thanos to calm his nerves, but it didn’t feel ideal, especially when he became sober so quickly.

His mind felt hazy as he furiously scratched and dug his fingers and clawed at his skin in his arms, he couldn’t see because his eyes were so damn foggy. He couldn’t hear anything since the only thing he could hear was his heart beat thudding strongly in his ears, a sickening reminder he was still alive and would be inside this fuckass body.

He bit his lip to stifle what he guessed was a sob, his hands were shaking again, and Nam-gyu felt like he couldn’t fucking breathe. His chest felt heavy, too constricted to suck in too much breath, the exact amount he needed.

He winced as he moved, the pain finally seeping in. He remembered binding tightly before leaving to this place, so.. he probably hasn’t taken this stupid binder in three days straight, oh, Nam-gyu bet this would do a number on this situation.

A quiet sob left his lips as his legs wobbled, doubling over while one hand still held tightly onto the sink, the water still running. His legs felt like jelly as his hand went to his chest, this was pure fucking torture at its finest, even though this was his own fault.

The reason why he’s like this right now is because he isn’t a fucking boy, Nam-gyu gritted his teeth. He would be able to breathe properly if he was a boy, he wouldn’t need to bind his stupid chest if he wasn’t a boy, he wouldn’t need to cry himself to sleep or fight with internal transphobia if he was a boy, Nam-gyu was just playing a boy, he realized. Or maybe it was just his mind speaking.

He only panicked further when he couldn’t breathe properly anymore, he was practically wheezing. And he was alone in the damn bathroom.

But not for long, really. Because Thanos apparently couldn’t leave people fucking alone when they took too long. Thanos, as always walked in carelessly, not noticing the scene at first.

"Hey, Nam-su, you were taking forever, bro. What else could be better than talking to the great Thanos?" But the next moment, Thanos knew something was off. First of all, he didn’t get a reply, and second of all, he could hear quiet sobs.

His gaze darted around until it fell on a familiar bob, Nam-gyu was sunken to his knees, shaking. Visibly crying and wheezing for air, Thanos didn’t know how to react. He was never good at comforting people, and wasn’t the best with making them feel better through words.

And yet, either way, his feet unconsciously moved to Nam-gyu as he crouched down in front of him. The other man seemed too caught up in his panic to notice, so, gently, Thanos reached out very slowly and wrapped his hand around Nam-gyu’s wrist.

The eyes that met his own were all familiar, but also weren’t. Nam-gyu had a huge ego and was a huge goof, but now.. Thanos couldn’t help but frown as he saw the tears clinging to his eyes as they slipped down, collected on his chin and then fell. His gaze was wild, hell, almost even scared. Thanos was definitely sure this was the closest to frightened he’d ever see Nam-gyu get.

"Nam-gyu, hey, hey man look at me." Thanos said as he held the other’s chin, it was almost scary how he was shaking so badly. "You need to take a breather, you look like you might run out of breath." Thanos said, but it didn’t do anything. Goddamn it, Thanos hated not knowing what to do, hated feeling powerless.

"I c-" He heard Nam-gyu choke out, was he trying to say 'I can’t'? Thanos was worried as hell, he couldn’t understand shit while his friend was nearly out of fucking breath.

Nam-gyu’s hand clawed at his chest, as much as he felt scared to come out, which mingled with his whole anxiety, Nam-gyu felt like he was being tortured. And thankfully, Thanos got the hint. "Is it something wrong with your chest?" He asked as he saw how Nam-gyu seemed to try to get something out. So instead of questioning, he shut up and began taking the tracksuit jacket with the other’s number off. Then, his shirt.

Thanos could easily tell Nam-gyu was almost afraid of this, he was hesitant, tense, even. But if this was cutting off his air supply, Thanos would have to get whatever this dude was using or wearing off.

His lips parted in a small 'O' as he caught the sight of a chest binder, but he brushed it off, now wasn’t really the time to be shocked. "You need to get this off before you pass out or some shit." Thanos said, and Nam-gyu just nodded, feeling lightheaded already, sobbing hurt, trying to suck in a breath hurt like a bitch.

He turned around with his back to Thanos as he felt the other unclasp the binder, his hands were too shaky to work something out, and he felt instantly relieved, like a pressure in his chest was gone, but he still couldn’t properly breathe. But before he could ponder on it too much, Thanos was already speaking up.

"Try to match your breathing rhythm to mines, in and out very slowly." He finally said, and Nam-gyu complied. After what felt like five minutes, Nam-gyu finally had managed to breathe. Calming down as he let out a shuddering sigh, sniffling and wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Great, now he had a headache and he felt pathetic.

He had forgotten about his binder, though. He was snapped out of it when Thanos began awkwardly talking; "You uh, really shouldn’t use that thing for too long. It was too tight, dumbass." The words didn’t have his usual bite to it, he seemed almost.. worried, as if he would be, Nam-gyu thought.

"What else would I wear, then, genius?" He snorted, actually caught off guard when he felt his shirt slip back on and the sound of a jacket unzipping. He turned around to see Thanos handing him his jacket, for some reason it was somewhat baggier than his own. Or maybe Thanos was just looking for an excuse for Nam-gyu to wear it. Either way, he was quick to put it on and zip it up. Maybe he was right, plus, Nam-gyu didn't want bruised ribs.. more than they already were. And his chest really wasn’t that hard to hide either way, Nam-gyu was just a bit paranoid over it, and binding felt more safe.

He sat down and leaned against the wall with his head tilted back, he felt exhausted, really. The silence became somewhat awkward with a tinge of comfort. "I’m not going to judge you, you know that, right?"

Nam-gyu paused, finally catching Thanos’ eyes. "You don’t have to lie if you find me a freak, I mean, hell I’d understand if you didn’t want a fake b—" Before the final words of the sentence could even tip off his tongue, Thanos shushed him.

"Do not say that, you hear me?" Thanos scoffed. "To me, you’re still the same crazy junkie who gets me, I’m not about to kick you out." Nam-gyu felt a weird flutter in his chest and maybe more weight being lifted off of his shoulders.

"I don’t see you any differently from how I used to." Thanos added, averting his gaze. "So, you’ll still give me the pills?" Nam-gyu added jokingly, but deep down he was being slightly serious, as much as he relied on Thanos, those pills kept him somewhat more sane to not hurt himself. "You never change, do you? I would call you a drug addict but I’m nowhere better."

Nam-gyu sniffled, ducking his head down as he let out a quiet smile before looking back up again, and then, their faces were a bit closer than he initially thought they were. And Thanos was looking at his lips. And then the next second, he felt his lips on his own.

They were slightly cracked, chapped against his own as he kissed him back, nothing too rough or demanding, it was pretty.. gentle. His lips felt sweet, and he found himself leaning into it, it was weirdly calming. Soothing to his soul in a way he didn’t quite dislike.

And yet, the moment was just ruined by a guard knocking on the door loudly declaring the lights would shut off soon. They both broke away, and Nam-gyu shoved his binder somewhere inside his pocket, ignoring how it appeared like a bundle inside of it and cleaned his face, following right behind Thanos who went in front.

As expected, most players were already in bed by the time they were there back, Nam-gyu really just felt the need to knock the fuck out, it felt like the only thing that would really calm his headache down.

As they walked towards their designed bunks, Nam-gyu held onto Thanos’ pinky finger, letting the other just lead him, really. He didn’t think much of it when Thanos finally lay down and motioned for him to do the same.

Nam-gyu lay next to Thanos with his back pressed to his chest, closing his eyes that were so heavy that he thought he might as well fall asleep standing up. He felt one arms around his waist, and one on his hair, deftly twirling a strand. It was easy to lull him to sleep, he was already pretty much exhausted anyways.

Maybe Thanos wasn’t the worse person in the world, in the end.

I wrote this while half asleep and while I did my biology work, srry for anything. Also I am not transgender so forgive me if I did anything wrong, I didn’t mean to be offensive in any way!! Anyway, enjoy<3

[dear-aubade]

Tainted Prayers: Part 2

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader Asylum AU

← PART ONE | PART THREE →

Notes: Religious themes, cultists, topics may be sensitive to readers

You were led down a long hallway with beige water-damaged walls. The tiles were freezing beneath your feet, each step bringing your toes closer and closer to becoming icicles. You shivered, pulling the sweatshirt closer around your neck to try and block out the cold.

There were two people leading you—one a man with close-cropped carrot hair and the other a woman with dark skin and hazelnut irises. They sort of looked like the eyes of the nice man from before, the one who’d collected you from the bus. You didn’t know where he’d gone. Soon after he’d led you inside he’d been summoned away for some sort of other task that needed attending to.

You clenched your hands to stop them from shaking. You’d heard of this place, of course. Everyone had. Silver Lake Asylum was supposed to be a home for the insane, the wild, those that weren’t human enough to function on their own. Those who had been kissed by the devil instead of blessed by God.

You didn’t think you were insane, but…well, crazy people never thought they were crazy, right? You’d been told you were. Aunt Bea had said so, and after that night….

The orange-haired man opened a metal door to your right and you winced at the high-pitched squeal the hinges let out.

You froze.

“Let’s go,” the man said, prodding you forward.

You nearly stumbled, shaking your head. “No, no I can’t, I—”

He pushed you forward again, this time into the room. Showers lined the walls with water-stained silver handholds; rust clung to some of the drains embedded in the ceramic tile floors.

Your vision started to blur with tears as you shook your head more violently. “Please don’t—I—”

Memories assaulted you, ones of you huddled and shivering beneath a frozen stream of water with purple lips, the smell of mold on porcelain making you gag…

You were suddenly shaken. Shocked out of your daze, you looked up to find the woman gripping your shoulders, her brow creased. When your gaze met hers her face relaxed.

“She’s fine,” she said to the man without looking at you. His nose was wrinkled as if disgusted by your tears.

“Let’s just…get her a bucket and washcloth or something instead,” he muttered. He seemed almost uncomfortable by your display. His boots were swift as he exited the room.

Twenty minutes later you were as clean as you could be without a proper shower, dressed in white scrubs with a brown-orange stain on the hem of one of the sleeves. Your toes were no longer frozen—you’d been given white socks with sticky texturing on the bottom to keep you from slipping.

Your room was bland. White walls, white floor, white sheets. There was a single chair in the corner of the room facing the bed, also white. There was no window and there were bars covering the light fixture—most likely to prevent any patients from breaking the glass bulb and using the jagged shards as a weapon, either against others or themselves.

Despite being warmer than before, you hadn’t stopped shivering. Was this supposed to be your new life? Never feeling the sunlight on your skin again? Never seeing the sky? Tremors wracked your body and you felt another wave of panic, followed by a smaller flare of self-disgust. You were pathetic. How many times had you broken down today? How many times had tears clouded your vision, had fear fuzzed your mind? How many times—

There was a quiet beep and your door opened. An unfamiliar man walked through (but then again, wasn’t everyone unfamiliar these days?).

He had strawberry blond hair that receded from a round, wrinkled forehead—wrinkles far too deep for someone middle-aged. His chin was pointed, his nose even more so.

The skin crinkled around his blue eyes as he gave you a friendly smile. “Well hello there,” he said, shutting the door behind him. The lock clicked.

You didn’t respond and your eyes followed him as he sat down in the white chair across from you. He was dressed in a simple button down and slacks.

He studied you for a moment before extending a hand. “I’m Bishop David, the head of this institution.”

You didn’t shake his hand.

Bishop David nodded as he pulled it back and gave an understanding smile. “I hope you’ve settled in alright, though I heard you gave Joseph and Maria some trouble at the showers.”

At this, you squirmed uncomfortably. “I don’t like water,” you whispered.

“Ah.” He leaned back in his chair. “Well, we all have things that irk us, don’t we?”

You didn’t respond.

“Quiet, aren’t you?” He cocked his head and his eyes took on a strange look, as if he were trying to look through you. He clasped his hands. “You were brought here for a very serious reason, you know. Your aunt—she was a good woman.”

You looked down.

“And a good woman’s judgment should be trusted, shouldn’t it?” He leaned forward a bit.

He spoke your name.

You looked up.

“You’re unclean,” he said softly. “You’ve been touched by the devil, been shunned by God. Your aunt was wise to hand you over. You shouldn’t be ungrateful for your circumstances.”

You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt.

“We’re going to help you,” he said intently. “But to do that, you need to admit to yourself first that you are tainted. Your soul is evil. You must understand that.”

You didn’t say anything. Tears welled on your lashes.

Bishop David let out a small exhale and stood. “I expected denial, but none as strong as this. The devil is working hard on you.” He gave you a small smile. “Don’t worry. We’re going to help.”

And with that, he turned and walked out of the room.

Days passed. The asylum staff didn’t give you a calendar, nor did you ask for one. What was the point? You weren’t getting out of here anytime soon. You didn’t deserve to.

The routine was the same each day. In the morning you’d wake to a plate of cheese and bread set on your bedside table for breakfast. Lunch was beef jerky and crackers, and dinner was soup. At night the lights would shut off, leaving you in pitch blackness.

Nights were always the hardest. You couldn’t sleep, not when you could practically feel the darkness pressing in on you from all sides, like it was strangling you. You’d wrap yourself in your blanket and curl into a ball to try and hide, but how could you escape something that was everywhere all at once?

You could practically feel yourself wasting away; not just your body, but your mind as well. You had no one to talk to, nothing to do. The only time you saw the outside of your cell was when you were led to the restroom by an armed guard.

Today you were sat criss-cross on your thin mattress, picking at the crust of your bread, getting ready for another day of staring at the wall with empty eyes when you heard a small beep.

Your door opened a moment later and in stepped him.

He didn’t look any different than he did on the day he’d collected you from the bus. Square face, tired eyes, Roman nose. His beard was flecked with gray, same as his brown hair along the temples. He was dressed the same as he was before—black button down, black slacks, black shoes. The only thing that wasn’t dark was the white of his clerical collar.

“Mornin’,” he said in his deep, rumbling bass of a voice.

“Good morning,” you said softly. You watched as his dark silhouette moved to take a seat in the white chair, a spill of ink against paper.

He was holding a thick leather bound book in his hand. “You, uh, get settled in alright?”

You shrugged.

“Bishop David told me he came to see you. Said you were…on the quieter side.”

“I didn’t have anything to say to him.”

The man’s thick brow furrowed and he seemed to study you for a moment before he shook his head to dismiss whatever thoughts were swirling in his mind. “Well, I’m Father Miller. I’m going to be helping you in your reformation.”

You gave him your name as well, but it was more for the sake of formality. Did this man really think he could help you? You were bad—you were unclean.

“What’s that?” You asked, nodding to the book in his hands.

“Oh, this? S’the Bible.”

Of course. You shouldn’t have expected anything else.

“Are you going to read to me?”

Father Miller nodded. “Is—“

“Why?”

He cocked his head. “What d’you mean, ‘why?’ Do you not want me to?”

“No, I just…” You fidgeted. “Do you really think it will help me?” What good would hearing such holy words do if you were already damned?

“Bishop David says it will, and I…I trust him.”

Your eyes flicked down as Father Miller’s large hands opened the book.

“S’this alright?” he asked, his voice suddenly so soft and honey sweet it made you want to hear it again. You nodded.

Father Miller’s eyes fell to the book in his hands.

And he began to read.

[daenysthedreamersblog]

SECRET OF US - VII

packing it up

i'll hold you, i'll know you

i'll never leave out the back door

masterlist // previous chapter // next chapter

summary: avoiding and lying and delusions were too easy when it came to your complicated feelings regarding coriolanus snow

parings: modern!coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: MDNI! swearing, drinking, oral sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, idk probs like a breeding kink, feelings mentioned (lmaooo fuk an emotion)

notes: this chapter is pure smut i think i blacked out and just wrote them fucking ever 5 min sry not sry a good way to start the new year

You dream of him. You dream of him leaning against the wall flirting with Livia in front of your face. You feel yourself shouting at him, telling him off but no sound comes out. Instead you slowly turn and a fire has started behind you blazing higher and higher until you feel two large hands shove you forward into it.

You fly upward scrambling out of his bed. You find your tattered green clothing, blood still splattered along it, you at least slip on the tights over his long t-shirt as you sneak out of his room. He's lying on the couch, sleeping, unaware of you even being there.

You slip out without a sound.

You awake to his empty bed and for a moment you heart pangs with abandon as you sit up staring around his room now littered with sunlight peeking through curtains. That night seemed so long ago; two different people and yet the total same. You climb out of his bed physically naked once more and emotionally bare scooping up a stray t-shirt and slipping it on your body. It smells like him, musky and worn with the faint scent of the roses he gave you last night. You pad over to his desk fingers trailing the picture of Sejanus and him regret deep in your soul from the loss of his. You knew Sejanus, he had went to school with you for all your life, but he had been background noise to a stupid feud, to a suffocating ambition.

And now he was dead and a gaping wound sat within his heart.

You leave before you can think more on it, on where Coriolanus had gone as your guard slowly builds back up within you. It didn't matter how nice last night was, how soft his eyes took you in, how good he felt inside you. You pull your dress on once more unable to find carelessly thrown underwear and gather your heels as you tiptoe out of his room. Your keys are sitting neatly on the counter next to your phone and purse, but as you go to grab it all your phone knocks into you hand causing your keys to drop to the floor in a loud clatter.

You wince as you bend to pick them up.

"Sneaking off so soon." You whirl on him, hair dripping, towel around his waist leaning against his wall like some greek deity you worshipped pathetically.

You want to say you weren't but the evidence was damning; half dressed in last nights clothes, things hoarded close to your chest to sneak out. You steel yourself, arm yourself once more, "It was fun Snow, but you're lucky I even waited for the sun."

He nodded taking slow steps towards you, "Is that so? Didn't want to stay for breakfast...coffee...another round making you cry out for me."

You feel your cheeks heating at the memory of every delicious stroke of his tongue, every curve and groove of his cock sliding inside of you. He sees it too and smirks, "I have better things to do." A horrible lie.

"Hmm." His knuckle drags along the deep pink of your face. "I think you're lying."

You glare, "You wouldn't know the difference."

He leans closer, your eyes taking in his lips before meeting his dark ones, "Oh yes I do." You let him move you, let him hoist you onto his counter and slide between your legs. "My naughty little liar." He whispers hand sliding between you to find you still naked under layers of his and your clothes, to find you soaking wet yearning for all the ways he could make you cry out for him.

Not even the marble can cool your burning skin, burning insides. You liked the way he touched you, called you his and you forget you're not supposed to feel that way. His mouth trails down your neck as you push yourself into him needing him to drown out every reason this would never be a good idea.

Your teeth tug at his ear, hands running through his white blonde hair as his hands trail up to knead your breast. "Maybe I'll just eat you hmm?" He pushes you down before you can gasp a breath his ceiling the only thing you can see as he dips down to press his mouth to your cunt.

He rolls your nipple as his tongue glides over your clit making your back arch against a rough counter. The pleasure overrides every uncomfortable twist and turn pressing into your body as he draws circles into your clit delicately, like he had all the time in the world to make you come undone, like he enjoyed making you squirm for him. "Cor-Coryo," You whine tilting your hips.

You feel his smile deep between your legs, two fingers pushing inside of you and its not enough. You need to be full of him.

"Just fuck me already." You growl as his tongue flicks against you.

He laughs and you yank him up by his hair. He chin glistened with your arousal as he continues to laugh at you. "You're awfully needy for someone with better things to do."

"I am." His fingers curl up inside of you. "I am." You moan pathetically that time; you were a liar of course you were. You wanted to stay rooted to his bed this morning delighting in all the pleasures the pair of you could find.

"Ask me nicely then kitten." He nips at your inner thigh. "Beg for it."

You groan, his mouth once more against you cunt, his fingers pushing up against a sweet spot inside of you. You didn't want to ask, didn't want to beg, or be nice. He wraps his mouth around your clit and you think you'd do anything he asked as the pleas fall out like air. "Gods please Coriolanus." You whine as you claw at his neck legs shaking beneath him. "Please fuck me, please...please...plea-!" You orgasm before you can plead anymore, before you can think anything. He's still lapping you up as it washes down your body making your toes tingle with every brush of his thumb across peaked nipples.

He finally shifts, pulling his hand out to stand over you. "Now was that so hard?" He smirked down you. You're hand comes up to slap him, but he catches it. "After all I've done for you." He kisses your erratic pulse. "So cruel to me kitten." You glare up at him, his eyes darken. "When will you learn? I love it when you glare at me."

He slams into you the next breath and the anger dissipates like smoke on a mirror, so you wrap you legs around him pulling him in deep your body full of him. You drag his face down to yours kissing him hard, kissing him deep, teeth and tongue mashing together as his body rocks against yours. Arachne had been right; that hatred must have been pent up sexual tension, it hard to be. No other reason could explain this wicked energy crackling between your sweating bodies, this hunger for him.

You bite down on his lip and tug as he spreads you open wider peering down to where his cock disappeared inside of you. "You take me so well." You don't focus on that, on the truth. You just sink your teeth into his collarbones, nails scraping down his back as he pounds into you.

You're screaming for him, moaning out his name and too many swear words as he thrust deep, spilling into of you with one long stroke.

Then it's simply the sound of two people breathing, trying to force their bodies to relax. He pressed his forehead down, skin slicked with sweat, the room thick with the scent of sex. "You okay?" You realized you could get used to it all

"Yeah." You croak out.

He peers down at you, brushing stray hair out of your face your skin prickling with a strange feeling you feel the need to run from. It crawls up your spine with a unwanted chill as you had to fight against every soft urge appearing in your black heart. Maybe he feels it too as he pulls out of you suddenly, helping you sit up. "Still want to leave?"

You slide off the counter knees wobbling with the sudden use and all too soon he's catching you, holding you as the blood rushes down to your toes. "Coriolanus." His name comes out like a quiet prayer only you knew how to say.

His hand is cupping your cheek as he stares down you. It seizes your heart, his eyes flickering between your eyes as he suddenly leans down and kisses you, really kisses you. A kiss you wish never happened, but wished never ended. It was full of unsaid feeling and niceties and emotions you weren't sure you could ever process.

You didn't want to leave.

You knew it was wrong, to let him turn you into something you shouldn't be, something he was never allowed to see, someone you had never had the chance to meet. You were going to get burned, he was going to turn you into snowy ash.

Of course he was, you were already ablaze for him, burned through with a heat only he knew how to fan.

"Stay." He whispers palm to cheek, nose to nose. "Let me at least get you coffee."

You swallow the bite, the sharp fangs slipping back into gums. "Fine." You'd leave soon, you'd leave and put normalcy back in its place. You squeeze your eyes, "Please put clothes on."

He chuckles, "Do I distract you kitten?"

"No you're hideous." You roll your eyes pushing away from him.

"You're not a good liar baby girl!" He calls to you over his shoulder as he wanders back to his room. It has you chewing on the tip of your fingers, twisting your insides in all the ways it shouldn't.

You spend the next week in a suspended moment of bliss with him, a bubble of your own making. You don't leave, but neither does he. It felt too natural, this pattern you both had settled into as normal life attempted to resume.

You would spend the night together, tangled beneath sheets panting and needy until you both were spent. You always figured he'd leave after, or maybe you would make up an excuse to flee, but you would curl into him...and talk. Talk in a way you never had, that only the four dark walls of either of your rooms knew. It felt like peeling back skin and exposing ribs to each other to see a beating heart beneath steel at first, and then it felt easy. To talk to him, to listen, to be.

"Tell me something real." He would say pushing sweaty hair off of your forehead.

You rolled your eyes but racked your brain anyways. "I hate the dark." You whispered eyes locking on the city lights speckled into his curtains. "Not like a phobia, I can handle it, but I just don't like to."

He chuckles, but not rudely. "Why?"

You shrugged. "Always have." Especially when your father would lock you away in your room after some minor insubordination. "Your turn."

"I cheated during some exams." He smirks. "I sat above you and copied all your answers."

You shoved him. "I knew it!" You were climbing on top of him laughing.

There was so much laughter between every gritty moment, a laughter that came too often and too quick as he walked with you to every shared class with coffees always awaiting you within his hands. You hated the flips in your chest when you see him waiting for you outside your classes, letting him tuck you under his arm as you walked to rehearsals. You tried not to let on to anyone what went on behind closed doors, but Flickerman seemed to be too pleased by your chemistry.

It was sweet and innocent and new and you waited on baited breath for the wildfire to take it all away from you. You knew it was coming, could smell the smoke from the impending explosion. You hated that you were sad, afraid, trying to ward away the fumes.

He shows up one night with sushi and the book you both had decided to reread recently in his hands. You take the tray from him allowing him to step inside and take his coat off. "Is it snowing bad?" You eye the flakes throughout his hair.

"Not horrible." He kisses your cheek, something you're never used to. "How far did you get?"

"Since last night?" You chuckle setting the tray of sushi out. "Not far Snow."

"Was I distracting you kitten?" He smirks sliding into one of your island chairs.

You glare, "You're always distracting me."

He grabs a roll. "My bad sorry I will abstain from any touching." You watch him closely, chewing on the side in your knuckle while he swallows the sushi down that smug little smile on his face.

Then you pounce on him half jumping, half crawling over the island to knock him backwards onto the floor below kissing him roughly. His hands grab onto your waist, fingers digging into skin and you bite down on his bottom lip.

"You're distracting me." He mocks nipping at your jaw.

"I don't care." You kiss him harder shoving your tongue down his stupid throat relishing in the taste of him. He's clawing at your clothes while you battle his, finally breaking him free of his pants and belt to shove your hand down to find his hard cock.

After kicking off the remainder of your clothes, you sink down onto him without any warning savoring the sweet hiss of his breath between teeth. Your face is pressed into his chest letting him fill you completely until he's fully seated inside you. You don't move, you can't already missing him inside you for that quick second you begin to move.

"Come on then kitten," He smirks up at you. "Take what you want."

And gods you do.

You roll your hips, gliding along his cock, letting it hit every sweet deep part of you as your head falls backwards riding him until your panting out his name into your quiet apartment. You feel his hands burning into your thighs, coming up to knead into your breast, soft curses slipping out between parted lips as his hips try to meet yours ramming himself deeper.

You slam your foot down against the floor to rock against him fast, feeling you stomach tightening already as his fingers slither between bodies to circle your clit. You bite down on your lips, clawing at his chest as you chase your orgasm, as you fuck him. Hair cascades around you as you glance down at glassy blue eyes darkened for you, because of you. You never wanted to be rid of the image, of the way he looked at you. Suddenly too many images flash through your mind, too many memories of every moment you ever shared with him.

You scream his name as you orgasm against him hearing him release a soft grunt as your momentum slows. "That's it." He's still using his thumb to press into your clit, drawing out the orgasm. "That's my girl."

A sob claws its way out of you throat that you cover up with a whine shoving his hand away. Too much in all the right way, ways your heart seems to not be able to handle. You're on your back the next second as he lifts you leg upward and out to fuck you deeply. You can't stop staring at him, at the blond curl sticking to his forehead, at his face screwed up in concentration as he glances to where your bodies are connect, where his cock slides into you so easily.

You run soft nails down his arms, "Coriolanus." You whisper. "Kiss me."

His brows furrow, emotions passing over blue eyes that seemed too close to yours to understand before he leans down and connects your lips. It's breathless and needing and you tangle you hands through his hair as he pounds into you.

"Say it again." He growls out. You don't even get a chance to ask, "Say it."

"Coriolanus kiss me." He is, he won't stop kissing you. "Kiss me please Coriolanus." His thrust turned rabid, faster and harder and sporadic as he consumed you as you muttered the sentence over and over and over again.

He groans into your mouth as he spills inside of you, bodies slick with too much sweat his mouth still pressed to yours. It's hard to pull apart, to untangle yourself from him, you don't want to and you're starting to harbor resentment for that feeling. But in the moment it could stay.

"There." He muttered into your neck. "No more distractions."

"Now I need to shower." You chuckle up at him as he pushes hair off your face.

He feigns annoyance, "Ugh more distractions because now I must join you." You shove him off forcing him to pull out you before you made him stay inside any longer. "I am hungry though so it must wait."

After sushi and a forgone shower, you find yourself naked, tangled up in his arms under throw blankets sprawled over your floor. There's a movie on the TV, some romantic period piece you forced him into enjoying as you both drink from wine glass.

"I get it now." He says toying with the tips of your fingers as you take a sip. "All the yearning."

"Bring back men who yearn." You feel his back rumble with a laugh, you peer backwards up at him. "Do you yearn for me Coriolanus Snow?"

He trails a thumb down your mouth, "I burn for you kitten."

Your cheeks tingle with heat from a blush. "Tell me something real."

"Hmm, so many games with you." He swipes his fingers across your lips once more. "I've always liked the way you say my name."

You raise a brow, "Always?"

He nodded, "The way your voice goes up an octave near the end." His hand trails down your body, "I love when you scold me with my last name, and my favorite is right before you cum, when you whimper out Cor-Corio!" He slaps your ass, "Your turn."

"I hate you."

He tsk at you kissing your fingers. "Something real kitten."

You pout, "That was real, I do hate you."

"No you don't." He scoffed, "You don't kiss people you hate like that."

You settled back into him because he was right and you were being stubborn. "Fine. I had a sex dream about you at the start of the school year."

He laughed loudly, "Explains so much."

"Just watch the movie." You whacked him, let his arms tighten around you and enjoyed more of him than you should have.

You watch him over your toast and coffee as he scrolls through social media. You have to tell him, you need to. You didn't like lying...okay well maybe that was a lie as well because you were lying a lot lately. To him, your parents, friends, yourself.

Your palms were sweaty as you forced yourself to tell him. "I have to go to dinner with Clem and Arch tonight." He raised an eyebrow, "I have to tell them...something."

He set his phone down to fully take you in, "Something?"

"I've been avoiding them." You picked at the run of your cup, you've been avoiding untangling this web of feelings too. "Not because of you, well maybe because of you but I'm not ashamed or anything or-!"

"You suck at this." He chuckled. "Unfortunately they know both of us and probably have loads of opinion. I get it."

You sighed with relief, "Thanks for understanding." Your hands stilled, "What should I tell them?"

He crosses his arms, "What do you want to tell them?"

"I don't know." You run your hands down your face, "That-that I wanted to wring your neck for years but now we're fucking."

"Do you still want to wring my neck?"

You glare, "Sometimes."

Tell me. Tell me what to say. Tell me what we are.

He shrugged, "Just tell them we've been hooking up." He took a bite of toast as you rubbed you hands down your legs feeling your heart sink slightly.

"Right." You daze off towards the back wall sipping on your coffee not sure how you felt about it all. Did you want it to be something more? Or was keeping emotions out of this best for everyone involved? Why did it feel like they already were, and why did that suddenly awake a dormant rival in you, to make him feel the same emotional confusion as you. "I need to shower." You wrap your arms around him, "Wanna come?"

It's calm at the start. You undress quietly together, warm the water up before climbing in. He follows behind you soon after. You turn to face him water running down both of your bodies, steam bouncing of of his shoulders. You trace his collarbones, "Tell me something real."

Your eyes flicker up to his, "Showering together in reality is not fun, someones always cold."

His fingers toy with your hip, "Then come closer." You do, body pressed to his the hardness of his cock growing against your thigh. He dips his head ,mouth dragging down your throat, canines nipping at your carotid.

"Your turn." You shiver, not from the cold, not at all.

"I want you to go to that dinner with marks, my marks." He sucks harshly on the skin and you expose your neck more for him. "I want you to have my cum running down your leg." His tongue laps against you and you whine for him. "I want everyone to know that your mine." You wanted to find reason in that, remind him there wasn't space for that within the realm of 'just hooking up' but your brain empties of logic.

His mouth is on yours the next second gripping your hair like a vice to smash your mouth to his. He could never seem to get enough of you and you enjoyed the way he devoured every inch, you wanted to feast on him just as much. You go to your knees in front of him water cascading around his back, blocking it from hitting you. You felt the gentle spray of it as you looked up at him, hooded dark eyes as a thumb trailed over your lips. Your tongue runs over the head of his cock, the underside of his shaft watching the small flutter of his eyelashes. "Do you like seeing me like this Snow?" Your nails dragged down his thighs, "On my knees for you."

You take him into your mouth, tongue swirling around the tip. "Fuck." He hissed. "You have no idea." You sucked in your cheeks taking him further along your tongue, your hand doing what your mouth couldn't. "How many times you would run that wicked mouth...wanted to shove my..." The tip of him hits the back of your throat and then you're pulling back to bob your head along his cock as precum slips down your throat. He gripped the side of your head moving his hips at the same pace your mouth moved as you slid your hand along his shaft. You pull off, still using your hand and running your tongue along the head of him blinking up with innocent eyes. "Fuck...I'm gunna..." You knew he was getting close by the tense muscles of his thighs pulsating under your fingertips. You smirk, teeth grazing his cock, "You little brat," His hands go under your arms and he's yanking you upward, turning your back to him and bending you forward. "I'm cumming inside you kitten, that was a promise."

He slams into you. Your hand darts out to catch yourself the same time his hand twist into wet hair arching your back for him, taking him deeper until you're full to the brim. You moan for him, gods, he feels too good, like every curve, every angle had been made to fit perfectly inside of you. He hit every spot, he made you feel so good you think it took you to ethereal planes far away from reality. "Messy." Is all you pant out. You wanted his cum, truly, the warmth, the possessiveness of it, it curbed whatever loneliness you had once he pulled out. But you were going to be wearing a skirt and you didn't want it leaking out under the dinner table.

His hand comes down onto your ass, a strange yelp leaving your throat. "I don't fucking care." He hoist your left leg up onto the side of the tub shoving himself even deeper, abusing your cervix with every rabid thrust. "I want them to know..." Your stomach tightened, ears thrumming out under water, your eyes squeeze shut till all you can hear is. "Mine...mine."

You bite down on your arm to stifle the scream as you orgasm, as your pussy clenches around him so tight, as the world explodes behind your eyes. It feels too good when hot ropes of cum coat every inch of your insides a few seconds later. Your right leg is shaking and your nails gasp for purchase on the shower curtain.

He's guiding your leg down gently, slowly helping you stand up straight. He pushes your hair to the side a feather light kiss pressed against your shoulder, your neck. You lean back into him, "This was a bad idea." He stiffens so suddenly. "I'm gunna be late now I should have never invited you in here."

"Oh," He chuckles softly the relief immediately felt behind you. His arms encase you mouth still dragging lazy kisses up the column of your neck.

This didn't feel casual, and it was starting to scare the shit out of you. You turn to face him, hair plastered to his forehead, water dripping off his lashes, blue eyes bright, clear. "Do you still want to wring my neck?"

"Sometimes." He smirks the answer the same as yours. His thumb drags along your puffy lips, "But there are much better ways to shut you up."

You snort pushing away from him to finally wash your hair.

With the pink glow still in you cheeks, and the warmth of cum between your thighs, you rush in to the dim restaurant finding your friends around a quaint booth sipping on their drinks. "Sorry I'm late."

"Sorry we started without you." Arachne cooed pawing at the small charcuterie board.

"My fault."

Clemensia eyed you, "Why are you late?"

"Rehearsal ran late." The lie is so easy your forget you were trying not to lie to them.

Clem picks up a cracker as you order a glass of wine, "And nothing to do with you fucking Coriolanus Snow?"

You try to still your features, play it cool but your hand flies out nearly knocking the water cup off the table as you fumble to accept reality. "Psh..no...how did you know?"

A sly smile grows on her face, "I didn't, until just now." You glare as Arachne laughs at you. "We had time to discuss why you've been so distant and it was either him or your father." She eyes the turtle neck you had put on to cover up the brand of sex, "That's not helping either."

The waitress sets your wine glass down fingers toying with the rim. You were ashamed in yourself for not telling them, not trusting them. "I..." You sighed finally looking up at them. "I didn't want...reality." They looked confused, "You two are my best friends, but you know our history and I knew I would get nothing but the truth. That it is a horrible idea that with always go down in flames."

"Well..." Arachne shrugged sipping gently, you only glared more at her.

Clem glared at her too, "What she means is...we just want whats best for you, and were surprised you're finding it in him."

"It's so new and unknown I don't even know what it is." You drank a large gulp of wine.

"What do you know then?

You shook out you hair, "That...That I'm not even sure why I ever hated him." You feel the corner of your mouth tick up. "That he makes me laugh, and challenges me, and gets it, gets me. He's seen the absolute worse parts of me and still wants me." Clem and Arachne shared a look, "What?"

"You're falling in love with Coriolanus Snow." Arachne states throwing the two of them into a fit of laughter. "I knew something was going on ever since that Halloween party."

You throw a square cut piece of gouda at her. "I am not falling in love. We're just...seeing each other, nothing serious."

"Sure." She rolled her eyes.

Falling in love sounded too serious and dangerous and yet your heart sped up at the thought of it all, falling just as quick at that nagging reminder of impending doom grasping at you. Love was a jagged and scorching knife that would rip through you, tear everything down in a savage blaze. "Enough." You waved them away drinking another large mouthful. "Now you know, regardless of ruination."

"Yours or his?" Clem's eyebrows rise up over the rim of her martini.

You can't answer.

"Isn't it weird?" Arachne examines her nails before raising a well groomed eyebrow. "Being...intimate with someone you hated so viciously from when you were a teenager?"

You had expected it to be weird, expected to kiss in dark rooms and keep most of your clothes on, to never let him take you the ways you wanted, or do things you never tried. "No." You say meeting her gaze. She isn't judging, you knew her blunt nature stemmed from a place of care.

She smirks, "Well I sure hope it's good then." You tug the neck of your sweater down letting them glimpse the teeth indents and deep sucking bruises from Coriolanus Snow.

It nearing midnight as you stumble into your dark apartment groaning as you slip off your heels padding down the hall towards your bedroom. The small lamp on your bed side table illuminated the room in a warm glow, showering him in a amber light as he sleeps atop your blankets the shared book sitting open against his chest.

The bed groans as you sit down next to him taking his hand into you lap, playing with his fingers until his eyelids fluttered open, "Hey." His sleepy voice greets you.

"Hi."

He peers down at the book. "Still waiting for the pretentious part."

You roll your eyes, but smile. "What are we doing?"

"I was sleeping." You trace the outline of his nail. "What do you mean?"

"This." You squeeze his hand, "You, me, us..."

He sighed. "I don't know. Was my earlier answer not good enough?" You don't respond reveling in your lie for a few more seconds. "I don't hate you anymore."

"I'm scared." You whisper the truth so quietly you barely hear it yourself. You run the pad of your finger down the bone of his, "I'm scared of this."

"Me too." He whispers back. He sits up hand coming to cup your face pulling your forehead against his. "Tell me something real."

"I'm afraid you're doing all of this to really break me, to get under my skin to simply pull me apart."

You feel your body wanting to tug away from him, but he anchors you to himself. "I was telling the truth, this is not a game to me."

"I..." Your breath shook with the truth, with the rawness. "It shouldn't feel right, after everything, it should be awful." Blue eyes stared into your frayed soul. "But it isn't."

"It isn't." He shook his head. "We just have to learn to trust each other." You glare at him with red rimmed eyes, "Difficult I know after our battle scarred history."

"Just as loathsome."

"Just as lonely."

He's kissing you, kissing you hard and soft, pulling your freezing soul out of a frozen lake within you, breathing life back into you lungs.

The air changed, the universe change, turning the opposite way as he kissed you, as he tugged your body towards him.

It's slow and sweet, gentle tugs of clothing falling to the floor until you're equal once more, bare in more ways than one climbing on top of him. You kiss his jaw, running a hand down his hardening cock. You should have left, you should have sprinted so far away from him as your heart gives way in the wrong direction. Love was surrender, and your legs spread wider for him in a yielding.

You sink down onto him, groaning into his warm skin, nails biting down onto flesh as his body presses in tighter to yours. You rolled your hips against him slightly leaning back to move. His hands are tangled in your hair cupping your face as your ride him. Between panting and kissing a word leaves his parted lips, "Beautiful." You stare down at him for a moment, "You're so beautiful."

You shove him backwards needing him to stop looking at you like that, talking to you like that before you did the stupid thing and fell in love. Your claws dig in as you glide along his cock, leaning back to draw him in deeper against a sweet spot inside of you. You moan into the open air as his fingers grasp at the flesh of your thighs, as his hand finds your clit between bodies. He's lazy with it, dragging his thumb along it in slow circles pulling the orgasm from the depths of your soul. It burns through on its way up and you feel your legs stiffen beside him as you fight it off, as you hold on to that moment right before the crash.

His name is a cry on your breathless lips as he throws you overboard, as he lets the current of pleasure yank your body down until you're on blissful sand. Then he's thrusting up into you before your body starts to catch up once more, moving up and down on him as his hips snap against yours. You lean down to kiss him, to roll your hips against his in tandem, his hands bruising every curve in your body he can touch. "They knew." You whispered into his mouth, "They knew that I'm yours."

He grunts out as he cums deep inside of you every twitch of him igniting a broiled flame in your core. You press your forehead to his, "They're smart girls." He cups your face again, "You wear it well." His. You wore being his well.

You sit up feeling him slowly softening inside of you, "Don't over complicate things Snow." Because the war between your head and heart was already too complicated. You narrow your eyes at him, "What do you want? If not strangers, if not enemies, then what?"

He smirked, "I want to be the only person you glare at."

You glared at him.

When you wake up he's gone again, but a note on the island answers that quiet question.

Went for food, be back soon. There's coffee for you -C

You smile down at the note, at the wafting smell of brewed coffee as your phone rings still buried in your purse hanging off a chair, you dig through it your mother's name appearing.

The blissful bubble pops an unwanted past slamming into you.

"Hey Mom."

But it's your father who responds as your heart sinks even further, "Why are you ignoring my calls?"

"You aren't slick using her to get to me." You glare at nothing picturing it was his face.

"Then answer me."

"I have nothing to talk to you about." The bite is too obvious in your tone.

He sighed, "School, networking, that internship you were supposed to apply for." You chew on your cheek, holding in the obvious answer that you didn't want it, didn't want anything he had wanted for you. "Do you know how embarrassed I was when my friend, who I begged to open up a slot for you, told me he hadn't even seen your name on the list of candidates."

"I-!"

"I don't want your pathetic excuses you ungrateful little girl." You're shrinking away into yourself his tone overshadowing any backbone you might have been born with. "I'm hosting an intimate get together and invited him to bandage this inexplainable fault of yours. You will come home and you will grovel for that position or you can kiss you cushioned perfect life goodbye."

Your hands shake as you force out the words, "What if I want to do something else, be something else, something more."

He laughed, a cruel laugh. "Like what?" The blankness in your mind rings like a giant bell around your temple. "I'll see you next weekend."

The line cuts before you can even think to accept or decline. You squeeze your phone so hard your knuckles whiten around the stupid device and it takes everything in you to not shatter it across the wall. You're crying; angry vicious tears burning down your cheeks cursing the man who had forced you squealing into the world.

"What's wrong?" Coriolanus is standing in front of a closed door a large paper bag in his hands that smells like breakfast, studying you, your red face and watery eyes.

Despite the sex, despite the fact you were half naked in the kitchen, him seeing you like this felt too intimate, and deep down you knew that had everything to do with your father impeding on your delusion of happiness. You start building your walls, wiping your face as you turn from him. "Nothing."

"Don't do that." He sets the bag down. "Don't hide from me." He's tugging you back towards him by your face, cupping your cheeks.

You hate that you sniff, hate that you couldn't be weak for him. "It doesn't matter."

A soft brush of his thumb makes you want to be soft as well. "Then tell me."

"My father." You sigh attempting to pull your face out of his hands, but he holds you there. "He was being...well my father." You roll your eyes as your hands come around his wrist, you want to tug him closer, you want to push him away. "I have to go...home." And grovel. But you keep that part out.

Blue eyes flicker around your face. "Okay." He knew it must have been a hard phone call by that mere fact alone. He doesn't push only leans down to brush his lips along yours and for a moment you forget your woes muscle memory of his touch warming your skin. The idea comes in all too quickly, an idea to set it all on fire. "Come with me." You break the kiss first, "Come home with me." The word home felt bitter in your tongue. You found solace in him, in this silent two person world you had created, the ignorant bubble reforming itself.

Maybe something else was forming, but you chose to ignore that too.

He pulls back taking in your mischievous expression. "Your father will be furious."

You smirk, "I'm counting on it."

next chapter coming soooonnn!! hope you all are enjoying!!

[random-thought-depository]

This response may seem meandering at first but I promise there is a point I'm getting to.

One area where I think the canon Accord's suckitude is kind of incoherent is, like, who was the Accord's giant military-industrial complex gearing up to fight before they met the Affini? The Accord's deal seems to be earlier half of the twentieth century style jingoistic chauvinistic militaristic racist ethnic nationalism but for a species instead of an ethnicity, which suggests it's probably aliens, but the only external enemies I've ever seen them mentioned as having are the Affini and the Nyrans, and while the Nyrans at face value seem like the obvious answer here as far as I've seen the Nyrans get portrayed as basically pathetic innocent victims of Terran imperialism who were never any kind of serious threat or rival (admittedly I'm basically just basing this on their portrayal in One Analyst's Opinion). I guess the obvious defense of this worldbuilding choice would be something similar to that "remember that racism is literally based on nothing" post that went around a while back, but I still suspect this is an area where you can see that the setting was designed by committee (with the coordination problems that implies) and has some crude seams and I feel it contributes to the general impression that the authors are just really obviously stacking the deck to give the Affini maximally unsympathetic opponents.

In another post I think you might like reading, I said the HDG fan project I might be interested in doing if I had way more skills and resources is a video like this one but for a battle in a canon-ish version of the Affini domestication campaign against the Terrans, and I pointed out that the intro this video uses for Heraclius and the Romans would be really fitting for the canon Terran Accord in that context. But here, I want to draw attention to the fact that this symphony is about a battle in a big war the Roman Empire and Sasanian ("Persian") Empire fought against each other in the early decades of the seventh century, and in the middle decades of the seventh century this happened to the Romans and Sasanians; the early Muslim expansion conquered the Sasanian Empire and much of the Roman Empire. I suspect this sequence of historical events wasn't a coincidence, in the same way it wasn't a coincidence that the Inca empire was having an epidemic and a civil war just before Pizarro showed up (i.e. if they hadn't been attacking empires that had already been weakened by other events Pizarro and the Rashidun Caliphs might have been much less successful).

If you read the description of that video on Youtube, it's pretty much explicitly artist's intent for you to be thinking about this when you're watching it:

The war of 602-628 would be a turning point in the history of the region, and indeed the world. Having depleted their resources and manpower after the war, both empires were left vulnerable as a new power arose in the ignored, mysterious stretches of the Arabian peninsula, a new threat to both powers united by the fervour of a new religion. Less than five years later, the Arab Muslims would begin the invasion of the Sasanian Empire which would spell its doom, and would become a new enemy that would weaken the Romans.

Which gives this video a profound feeling of tragedy to me. I guess if you're a Muslim you might feel differently watching this, and I don't have any particularly strong opinions on whether a timeline where the Romans and Sasanians defeat the early Muslim expansion would turn out better or worse than ours (the opinions I do have on it are pretty much "I guess all else being equal it's better if conquerors fail, cause a successful war of conquest probably usually causes more suffering than an unsuccessful one and a world where attempts at conquest usually fail has better incentives" and "my default guess is from the perspective of the twenty-first century and approximately my values Rashidun Caliphate is a dud world and ours are likely more-or-less a wash"), but, like... When I watch this I think: everybody who gets to show up as a character in this is losing, to a greater degree than is just true of war in general; if they could see the end result of the sum of their actions they'd probably all be horrified by it; if you gave them that foreknowledge maybe they'd make very different choices. It's a different but somewhat related feeling to the one I get when I watch this.

I got to the part at the end where Heraclius in exultant relief prays to his god after his victory, and I went, hmm, I wonder if that's the same Heraclius as...

The year Heraclius came to power, the empire was threatened on multiple frontiers. Heraclius immediately took charge of the Byzantine–Sasanian War of 602–628. The first battles of the campaign ended in defeat for the Byzantines; the Persian army fought their way to the Bosphorus but Constantinople was protected by impenetrable walls and a strong navy, and Heraclius was able to avoid total defeat. Soon after, he initiated reforms to rebuild and strengthen the military. Heraclius drove the Persians out of Asia Minor and pushed deep into their territory, defeating them decisively in 627 at the Battle of Nineveh. The Persian Shah Khosrow II was overthrown and executed by his son Kavad II, who soon sued for a peace treaty, agreeing to withdraw from all occupied territory. This way peaceful relations were restored to the two deeply strained empires. Heraclius soon lost many of his newly regained lands to the Rashidun Caliphate. Emerging from the Arabian Peninsula, the Muslims quickly conquered the Sasanian Empire. In 636, the Muslims marched into Roman Syria, defeating Heraclius's brother Theodore. Within a short period of time, the Arabs conquered Mesopotamia, Armenia and Egypt. Heraclius responded with reforms which allowed his successors to combat the Arabs and avoid total destruction. ... The following year, the Arabs launched an offensive into the Arabah south of Lake Tiberias, taking al-Karak. Other raids penetrated into the Negev, reaching as far as Gaza.[54] The Battle of Yarmouk in 636 resulted in a crushing defeat for the larger Byzantine army; within three years, the Levant had been lost again. Heraclius died of an illness on 11 February 641;[d] and most of Egypt had fallen by that time as well.[59]

He is! Oh, you poor man! You have no idea what's coming!

What I'm saying is I think the We Did Stand A Chance AU equivalent of the Terran/Nyran War should have this vibe.

Aside:

"The Sasanian leitmotif uses an actual period Sasanian poem in Middle-Persian written by Pahlbod or Barbad, the official court musician of the Sasanian Empire, which shows an interesting form of national pride, comparing Khosrow II to clouds that overshadow both Caesar and the Khaghan of the Göktürks."

Oh! Since this person was a Sasanian general but wasn't Iranian (his intro is titled "The Empire of the Iranians - Rahzahd the Armenian") I thought maybe "Caesar is the moon, the Khagan is the sun / My lord is the clouds, pregnant with rain / When he wills, he covers the moon, when he wills, the sun" was supposed to be his way of saying (in a way that's kind of respectful to all three of them) "The Shah is better than the Caesar, but my god is secretly better than both of them" and clever and intriguing as that! That intrigued me enough that I ended up reaching the end of Google trying to learn more about this person (I found very little about him online) before it occurred to me to just read the Youtube description of the video and I found out I'd totally misinterpreted it! Reminds me of that time I realized what I thought was a great line in Heather Dale's Joan was actually me hearing the song wrong (it's actually "and Heaven is nigh," I thought I heard "and Heaven is mine").

Thinking about a Human Domestication Guide AU I’m making called “We Did Stand A Chance”. The Affini in this AU are not post scarcity. Their ships are comparable to human vessels and the majority of their structures are on planets instead of colony ships. They still have a resource advantage over terrans, and Affini are still fucking hard to kill, but in this world it’s achievable to overcome the threat.

The AU would be cataloguing the series of decisions and capitalistic mechanisms that cause the downfall of the Terran Accord WITHOUT an existential enemy force.

After all, the temptation to just surrender to an enemy working towards gay luxury space communism that wants to care for you forever may be too great for some.

This is of course non-canon to the HDG shared universe.

[mwydyn]

Definitely iller tonight then I was in the morning, yippee...