#like he IS that but that’s not ALL he is good lord

[sageshouldknowbetter]

Some may be apprehensive that Severance won’t portray Mark’s interaction with Helena in the tent as the sexual assault it was. But not only will they — they already are.

Mark’s behavior toward Helly has completely changed. He doesn’t sit next to her at Irving’s funeral. He shuts down attempts at conversation with offhand, vague snarky comments and a defiantly blank facial expression. When Helly knocks on the door to the bathroom, his eyes dart around like an animal cornered. Where he once would have slowed down for her in the hallway so they could talk, he walks much faster ahead. He’s trying as hard as possible to avoid her. To ignore her. To run away.

Now contrast this with his treatment of “Helly” when she first walked out of the elevator in season two. He waited for her to arrive! He was so relieved she’d come back! And when they were walking down that hallway and he was explaining the situation with Ms. Casey, he stopped mid-stride, turned to her with a smile on his face, and said “Look, Helly—“

He never got to finish that sentence. But some say he was going to confess that though his outie had a wife, his affections lay with her. And I think they’re right.

So why is he acting so differently now? The answer is obvious: “Because they are smarter than us, okay? They know everything.”

After the assault, Mark likely feels like a complete idiot. He spent so much of season one deconstructing his beliefs and breaking free from Lumon’s propaganda. And the minute he believes he’s immune to their lies and no longer a corporate slave, he is taken advantage of and hoodwinked by the very figurehead of said company, masking as someone he loves.

A symbol of Lumon convinced him he was safe. Tricked him. Invaded him in the most intimate way possible, with him completely oblivious, “like an idiot.” Right when he thought everything might be okay.

So maybe Lumon’s right. Maybe there’s no point in fighting. Because if he was stupid enough to not realize his own friend was being possessed by her billionaire doppelgänger, then maybe Lumon is correct about innies being nothing more than pawns. Maybe they are people, and he really is… not. (That’s how Helena treated him, anyway.)

And if that’s the case, of course he wants to give up looking for Ms. Casey and lose himself in work! For a moment he thought he was a human being, deserving of autonomy over his own body and capable of something more than sitting behind a desk — but his assault sends that all crashing down. He is an extension of his outie, made for work and nothing more. Going beyond that gets dangerous. That’s what got Irving killed… and him in Helena’s tent. And Helly? He cannot trust Helly. As far as he knows, his only confirmed moment with Helly since the OTC was when he was holding her in his arms, his jacket wrapped around her shoulders. Why should it be Helly coming back to the severed floor? If Helena could trick him before, who says she can’t learn from her past mistakes and trick him again over and over? Mark refuses to be humiliated and hurt after last time, so he avoids her (and Dylan!) and puts up a barrier of cool, snarky indifference — just like how he deals with grief.

But we know that indifference is a mask. When Milchick walked out of the elevator after revealing he knew about him and Helena Eagan, Mark had no one to pretend for — and he went completely stiff, blankly wide-eyed in an expression extremely reminiscent of his usual innie self. Whatever the reasons for this, one thing’s for sure: Mark does deeply care about what happened in the tent. And at least for now, he will lose himself in Cold Harbor to cope with it.

Lumon certainly got their productive worker back. But good Lord… at what cost?

[philosians]

ɪɴᴅᴜʟɢᴇɴᴄᴇ

a three week paid-vacation provided by your captain gave rise to the opportunity to finally show you the gift sylus had gotten you. and no, it isn’t the yacht you’re on—but he wouldn’t be opposed to giving you that either.

[ !! ] — mdni | established relationship, smut, breeding kink, pregnancy mention, fingering, oral (female receiving), praise kink, mating press, unprotected sex, sylus is soft in the bedroom okay now hush ;; alcohol mention (sylus drinks whiskey), fluff. oh did I mention soft! sylus?? uhhh maybe more tags than this idk there’s a lot going on lmao. unedited af I know that’s a warning. if y’all see cut sentences just know it’s a brain glitch >.< lol

a/n: Happy Valentine’s Day! phew i got this out before it ended hehe just in the nick of time. I do wanna forewarn everyone I don’t actively write smut so I deeply apologize for any sort of repetitiveness or just it being inaccurate and rushed overall, my apologies. but please enjoy reading! bc i wanna curl up and die and delete this after writing it actually lmao I’ll probably never write anything like this again haha

word count: roughly 4.8k

The starry expanse of sky moves quickly outside of the window of the car, nothing but a blur of cosmic colors. Where you’re going you’re not quite sure, with all the secrecy from Sylus and the twins. It’s something Sylus has clearly planned for awhile, from the way he wanted you to dress tonight, but you’re still unable to put your finger on it.

At the very least, you’re glad that Kieran is the one that’s driving instead of Luke.

“Are you two going to tell me where we’re going yet?”

“Afraid not, Miss,” Kieran replies. “That’d be against orders from Boss.”

“Are we at least almost there yet?” you ask.

“We have about ten more minutes,” Luke chirps. “Then you’ll finally get to see Boss, don’t worry.”

You’re stunned into a mild fluster and look at your hands in your lap. You heard the twins snicker and you can’t help but shake your head incredulously. Oh well. You’re almost to your destination anyway.

After the last two months of an increase in Wanderer appearances, you could most certainly use a break. It’s been nothing short of hectic, battles here and evacuations there and the occasional dumbass that doesn’t want to listen to the warnings given out that an area is too dangerous to go into.

You softly sigh. You really shouldn’t be thinking about work.

You tug the large coat on your shoulders over you further, closing your eyes and sinking into the warmth and the smell of the man it belonged to.

Whatever in the world Sylus had planned must be big, even so that he couldn’t be bothered to tell even the twins exactly what he had in store. All the three of you knew was that he had a surprise, and the two brothers were more than happy to have the opportunity to have the base to themselves.

You just wish you knew where you were going.

“Is this it?”

“I think so. Ah, there’s Boss.”

Oh, already?

True to word, you open your eyes and see a familiar patch of silver against the darkness of the world. And you also happen to see a very, very large yacht not far from him.

A marina? You blink incredulously. A private fucking marina. Good lord, how much money does this man really have?

Upon stopping, you watch as Sylus turns his head slightly to the car. Luke quickly jumps from the passenger side and opens the door for you, ushering his hand outward dramatically and says, “After you, Miss.”

The heel of your shoe clicks against pavement as you step out, holding Luke’s hand for stability until you find your balance.

“Thanks, Luke.”

“Not a problem! Enjoy the honey— Uh, vacation!”

Luke jumps back into the car, more than likely to save himself from your questioning eyes. You can’t help but shake your head and make your way toward Sylus and the man in uniform, more than likely the captain of the yacht.

“Ah, Mrs. Sylus,” greets the captain with a tilt of his hat. His eyes blink as he does a once-over on you and then laughs. “I was wondering what kind of woman would tie such a man down, and now I understand. Please, come aboard.”

Your brows raise at Sylus as the captain pivots and boards the yacht. “Care to explain that?”

Sylus, in all his audacity, simply shrugs and smiles. “Nothing to explain, sweetie. He came up with that himself after I told him my lady would be joining me.”

You scoff in disbelief, but can’t help the small smile that falls to your lips. You take Sylus’s arm, wrapped your hand in the crook of his elbow as he leads you onto the ship.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmur, gazing around as he takes you to the deck. And you could only imagine what it would be like when you went out to sea.

“I figured you would like it,” he murmurs. “Glad to see my instincts weren’t wrong.”

You don’t miss the way his red eyes look to you, knowing he’s waiting for your words of affirmation. You laugh behind your hand, because yeah, he’s right.

You hum, taking his hand in your own. “Thank you for considering me.”

You also don’t miss the way his large fingers eagerly twine with your own, nor the way his eyes soften and blend with devotion and affection.

“Always.”

Thirty minutes pass before the ship takes off into the open sea. You barely feel it until Sylus has you stand to take you back outside from the dining area.

“So, where are we going?” you ask, gazing up at him.

Sylus’s mouth twitches into a smirk. “It’s a surprise.”

You grumble, humoring the man. “Of course it is.”

Sylus’s coat never leaves your shoulders the couple hours you’re both out on the deck. He seems to enjoy that, too; you wearing his clothes sparks something behind his eyes that you’re all too familiar with. The thought itself has your cheeks warming and thighs pressing together.

He flicks his wrist to check his watch when a timer beeps twice. You can’t help it when your eyes linger on his hand. You’ve always had a fixation on his them—on how big and warm they are in comparison to yours, on how his long fingers stretch across your body, and how they gently wrap around you and pull you close like he’d die without touching you. Those hands that had once forced you to attempt to resonate with him for three days had become soft, remorseful and loving. And he’d more than earned your forgiveness.

“Dinner should be ready.”

You grin. “You brought your chef?”

“Just for this trip,” he retorts, standing to full height. “Come.” His hand outstretches to you and you take it without hesitation.

You don’t miss the way his eyes briefly light up at the way your fingers immediately interlace with his. It’s a small joy to you, but to him it means everything—a testament to how far the two of you have come.

Dinner, as always, is perfect. Dessert even more so. You’re not too full, but more than satisfied. You give your compliments to the chef, who in turn happily skips back to the kitchen like he’s on cloud nine. And you can’t help but look at Sylus and smile as he downs his whiskey like it’s water.

“You don’t compliment your chef enough,” you comment. “One sentence from me and he acts like he’s never heard praise.”

Sylus hums as his brows raise, humored. He chuckles with the whiskey in his mouth before swallowing it to retort, “He knows his cooking is excellent. I suppose I just have a limit to how many compliments I can give out in a day.”

You place your chin in your hand. “Oh, really? Then how many do I get to have in a day?”

Adoration fills his ruby orbs. “As many as you want, my beloved.”

His hand reaches for your left over the table. Sylus’s thumb rubs over your fingers, resting atop your ring finger.

“Have I told you that you look exquisite tonight?” he whispers.

“You haven’t,” you reply cheekily. “I think you owe me a few more, don’t you think?”

The soft music in the background dies as you begin to hear your heart thunder in your ears. You do hope that Sylus can’t hear it pounding away like you can.

“Seems like I do,” he says in an exhale, leaning back in his seat but not letting go of your hand. His eyes have changed—once filled with adoration, now filled with a fire that makes heat rise to your cheeks and desire burn between your legs. “I don’t think I’ve shown you the bedroom yet, have I?”

You grin. “You haven’t. I’d like to see it.”

But what you don’t anticipate is your man standing and abruptly lifting you into a one arm carry. Your sharply inhale in surprise, arms immediately weave around his neck for support, but you know he’d never drop you anyway.

You trail your nose under his jaw, pressing a long kiss to his skin by his ear. Your fingers dig into his shoulder, the subtle presser making him hasten his long strides.

“Sweetheart—” Sylus gulps as you press two fingers to his mouth to silence him.

You pepper slow kisses down his neck, nipping at the skin every other kiss. It’s when you reach his collarbone you hear the click of a door. And seconds later you find the plush fabric of blankets underneath you and Sylus’s firm hand cradling the back of your head as he tilts your head back to capture your lips with his.

Between each heated kiss you attempt to catch your breath, only for your lover to devour your mouth with his own again and again.

“Mmmh— Sylus, let me—” another kiss “—catch my breath.”

He has a hard time pulling away. Sylus rests on one knee at the edge of the bed, hands grasping at the back of your bare calves as he catches his own breath and tries to pull himself back to his senses before he finishes himself off early.

While you toss your head back and close your eyes, trying to let oxygen catch up to your brain, Sylus lifts his head to look at you. He drinks in your appearance—the starry night sky sewn into the strapless obsidian dress (one that he had specially made for you) accentuated your body exactly the way he envisioned.

As he watches your breasts rise and fall with every breath, he feels his pants tighten even more. He’s so painfully hard just from simply kissing you—a testament to what you do to him, how deeply you affect him.

He rests his head against the plush of your thigh. As he trails his hand down your leg, he realizes you still have your heels on.

Your head snaps up at the feeling of one heel coming off, then the other.

“Sylus, what— Oh, shit.”

The momentum of him lifting your body further up the bed and hiking your dress up catches you off guard. His mouth latches to your thighs, kissing and biting all the way up until he reaches the fabric of your panties—the only thing between him and what he wants.

“Such a dark red, darling,” he hums. “Was this for me?”

“It might’ve been,” you tease.

As his finger loops around the red fabric covering you, Evol ready to help rip it off, your hand makes its way into his hair and tugs, forcing his eyes to attention.

“Rip these, I’m okay with that. Rip the dress, and I’ll kill you,” you say, half-joking. But damn did you really like this dress.

He chuckles, eyes glazed with lust. “Understood.”

As soon as he tears them away and hikes your dress even further around your hips, Sylus’s mouth does nothing short of devour your pussy. You let out the loudest, wanton moan you’ve ever heard from yourself as his tongue buries itself in and against your folds. Your head falls back against the pillows, hands moving to grip the sheets beneath you to maintain some semblance of being grounded as Sylus eats you out like a starved man. Your legs are over his shoulders, allowing him the best access to your womanhood.

“Oh— Fuuuck, Sylus. Ohmygod, please don’t stop,” you beg, threading one hand through his hair again, grip tighter than earlier.

His reply comes in the form of him pushing his thick middle finger inside of you and mouth sucking on your clit. You wail, bucking your hips into his mouth. His ring finger promptly follows, stretching your cunt and sinking deep inside of your walls. Tears of overstimulation line your eyes as you grasp at then pillow behind your head.

Both hands twine into his silver locks of hair, pressing him deeper into you. What you miss amidst your own haze of ecstasy is Sylus grinding himself against the mattress to find some sense of relief. His mind is at war, wanting nothing more than to cum right then and there versus wanting to watch his seed spill from your hole. It takes every ounce of self-control of his own body to not climax while he simultaneously loses his mind while his mouth is attached to your cunt.

“Don’t— Please— Sylus! Sylus, I’m gonna—”

Your back arches off of the bed, and you can’t help but press him further into you and grind against his face. Sylus’s arms wrap around your thighs, holding you steady. The deep groan of his satisfaction that leaves him only spurs you on further and further and further until your thighs clench around his head and you cum. Hard.

And Sylus more than enjoys sucking and licking away at your release as you climax, prolonging it as much as he can. He lifts your lower body into the air as he continues his onslaught of your pussy with his mouth and tongue, the pressure of your thighs on either side of his head making him dizzy. Your essence coats his chin and nose, your scent driving all his senses wild and pulls the remainder of his blood down to his cock.

He gains a free hand as you tighten your legs around his shoulders. He unbuckles his belt and slips it off with practiced ease before moving to unzip and unbutton his pants, tugging away at them.

When your hips stop shaking is when Sylus grabs your thighs with both hands and sets your body back down on the mattress. He hovers over you once again, taking in your disheveled appearance and partially-lidded eyes. His long fingers brush your skin and cradle your jaw.

“Still with me, sweetheart?” he asks.

You pant and gaze up at him. “Barely.” You swallow. “That tongue of yours is brutal.”

Sylus laughs. It’s almost enough to make him forget about the painful fact that his cock is straining against his pants. Until your knee brushes against it when you lift yourself from the bed and he groans.

You giggle as his head presses against your shoulder.

“You really shouldn’t neglect yourself like that,” you hum, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

Sylus’s lips meet your neck opposite of your arm wrapped around him and presses a long kiss to your sweaty skin, murmuring hotly into your ear, “There’s no one to blame but you, beloved. And I highly suggest you take responsibility.”

You moan and arch into him as his hands work on your dress, unzipping the back entirely and lowering it just below your breasts. You arch your back so he can undo the bra, and as soon as it’s on the floor, his mouth is on your chest. Sylus sucks and bites at your nipples, worshipping them and your breasts as he grinds his clothed erection into your bare pussy, soaking his dress pants in your juices.

You begin unbutton his shirt through the haze of your desire… before you slip your hands through the remaining buttons and fully rip his dress shirt apart, exposing his thick torso. You both chuckle at the sound of the buttons hitting the floor.

“Impatient?”

“Like you aren’t,” you remark.

Sylus shrugs off his shirt in a fluid motion and tosses it to the side from one arm. You manage to slide off your dress within a few moments, just as Sylus manages to get off his pants and briefs and… Oh…

You’d almost forgotten how big he is. Sure, the two of you have spent a couple more… sensual evenings together since you had him use your place as a safe house (and then him bringing you to his), but it always makes you shudder when your eyes land between the apex of his muscular thighs.

His tip weeps with precum, heavy cock red and flushed and—

Sylus’s breath is hot against your ear as he asks, “Like what you see, darling?”

—goddamn it you need it inside of you.

Your nails dig into his bicep, your other hand wrapping around his neck to pull him into a heated kiss, and Sylus is more than happy to oblige. His kiss is deep and reverent. A small moan escapes him as you two briefly pull apart for air before diving back into one another.

Everything is hot; your cheeks are flushed with the heat of desire and your pussy aches to have Sylus buried inside of you.

You pull him down on top of you with the arm around his neck, your other hand grasping his cock and positioning it at your entrance. Sylus hisses, hips bucking slightly as his fingers clench at his attempts at restraint.

“Fuck,” he pants. His red eyes clear for a moment, turning into a gentleness reserved for you as he asks, “You think you can take it?”

“I think you ate me out enough earlier I’ll manage,” you joke. Then your nails dig into the meat of his back, the sensation making him softly hiss again. “But if you don’t I’ll be doing it for you then.”

Sylus chuckles, nose dipping to your collarbone.

“My beloved is always so greedy, isn’t she?”

There is no retort from you—only a loud moan as Sylus’s tip enters you fills the room. He stops after that though, and as you look up to him to ask him why he stopped, you’re stunned at the sight before you.

Sylus is flushed red, panting and sweating as his muscles flex.

“Sylus?”

“Don’t,” he warns, shaking his head. “Give me… a moment. You feel… too good.”

The implication is clear. Sylus’s head falls as he inches himself a little further, delighting in hearing you gasp as he sinks more and more inches of himself inside of you. It takes all he has not to just cum at the feel of you; every ounce of self-control he has is being tested. He’s never been harder in his life, and being inside of the woman he loves—who feels like heaven wrapped around his cock—only proceeds to spiral him into a deeper pit of pleasure.

“Sylus… Sylus, more, please,” you hears you beg.

He’s halfway in, trying to take his time and let the romance of the evening last. But at that, and the sensation of your nails digging into his back, he finds himself a goner and lets his hips fall into yours, sinking the remainder of his fat cock into the depths of your wet pussy. A deep shudder passes through him, bliss running through his body.

“Fuck. Fuck, you feel divine,” Sylus says in a deep exhale.

“You’re so big,” you gasp, eyes clouded with the haze of lust. “Oh, Sy, you feel so good.”

The praise goes to his head immediately. He drags his cock back out slowly and a whine escapes you, hating the emptiness. But when Sylus places your legs over his shoulders and leans over you, it’s over for you both.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as Sylus rolls his hips, sliding his full length back into the warm expanse of your pussy. His head falls back, and the pace he sets proceeds to bury you both alive underneath overwhelming ecstasy.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he pants, clenching his fist into the sheet. “How I feel every time I look at you? Utter perfection is all I see. Do you feel what you do to me, darling?”

All you can feel is Sylus’s weight on top of you and the feel of his heavy cock inside of you as he stretches you open on him, carving your pussy into the shape of his cock. His pelvis rubs against your clit deliciously, spurring you on further. As much as you want to drive your hips up to meet his thrusts, Sylus has you pinned down into a mating press and all you can do is take what he’s giving you.

The papping noises of your bodies meeting filled the room, sending your thoughts into an even dirtier place. He feels so good reaching so deep inside of you, tip rubbing against that special spot perfectly, like you’re made to be perfect for each other. You clench around Sylus at another thought and he inhales sharply.

“What’re you thinking about?” he questions.

You shake your head. “N-Nothing.”

His long fingers grab your jaw gently. “Tell me.”

And then he slows his pace. “No, Sylus—”

“Then tell me what my beloved is thinking in that pretty head of hers,” he murmurs into your ear. “Or else.”

“I was thinking… about… Uhm…” Sylus rolls his hips back into you, his heavy balls pressing against your ass as he awaits your answer.

“Well?”

“I, uh— A baby.”

At the word, you shy away into your arm. But Sylus doesn’t say anything, which makes you confused. After a couple seconds, you gaze back up at him. His eyes show how stunned he is, pupils blown as no doubt the word also revolves around his own mind.

“Sylus, I— Oh, fuucckk.”

His body weight presses your body into the mattress further, leaving you at his mercy as Sylus’s pace becomes brutal, like he’s let his base instincts take over. His big hand finds yours and twines your fingers together as he drives his cock into your pussy over and over and over again, the squelching noises only growing louder and louder in your ears.

“My kitten… wants a baby then?” He hums into your ear. “She wants me to cum inside of her and carry my baby, is that right?”

“It was… just a thought.”

He laughs as your pussy clenches around him more at his words.

“Seems like it’s more than just a thought.”

Sylus’s mouth meets yours in another kiss, powered by something more than just lust. Your brain turns fuzzy and hot, reality beginning to finally blur as another climax ascends from the depths of your core.

Your eyes shut as his mouth finds the sweet spot on your neck. He sucks and nips at the skin with his teeth and you’ve no doubt that there’ll be plenty of love bites scattered across your skin for days after tonight.

When he nips at your ear, you squeak and clench around him again. Sylus groans into your ear, “Do that again.”

You oblige, clenching down on him and making him piston himself in and out of you faster. Every thrust turns into one that pushes the air from your lungs. All you can see, all you can feel is Sylus—feel his body heat as he presses your body down with his; feel the thickness of his cock stretch you open and the weight of his balls as they slap against your ass.

And it feels so good. The shlick and pap noises are getting to you. The coil that’s been winding up all night finally feels like it’s about to burst. Your back arches off the bed, breasts pressing into Sylus’s firm chest.

“Ohmygod, Sy, gonna cum, gonna cum fuckfuckfuuucckkk!”

He nips at your earlobe, biting down on it gently before whispering into your ear, “Indulge, my love. Indulge and I’ll fulfill every single one of your desires tonight.”

At long last, the coil snaps. Euphoria pilots itself to your brain and all across your body. You shake from the intensity, having to wrap your arms around Sylus to ground yourself as you reach your high.

Your orgasm sends him over the edge. He thrusts a few more times before he finds himself pressing himself as deep as he can possibly go and releasing his seed inside of your pussy. It’s almost too much, even for him. He doesn’t think he’s ever cum harder than tonight.

Your bodies rock together as you both fall from the heights of cloud nine. Sylus peppers your sweaty skin with kisses, across the bruised love bites he’d left earlier.

It’s only when he feels himself soft enough to slip out of you does he ask, “A family?”

Sylus’s voice is soft. So soft in fact that you barely hear him. You take a moment to reply, only to find yourself being easily lifted from the bed and onto Sylus’s chest.

“It’s… Something that’s crossed my mind a few times,” you admit bashfully.

Silence fills the air for a moment before he asks again, in the same, quiet tone he’d just used.

“With me?”

Your smile stretches across your face instantly. Your lips meet his chest, right over his heart. Your eyes meet his—uncertainty meeting unconditional love.

“And no one else.”

The next three days after are filled with you and Sylus partaking in all the activities that his yacht has to offer (plus more intimate times across the boat and it’s other rooms). He’d told you at one point that he would’ve just used the one he sails on regularly. But due to him wanting to spend more time with you than anything, and for you to have fun during the trip, he’d bought another and hired the captain to ensure safe passage.

Tonight however, was the night that you both were supposed to be arriving at your destination. You tried to help the anxiety and giddiness inside of you, trying to flatten it under a cool demeanor but Sylus just saw right through you.

Of course he would.

“There’s no reason to be nervous. It’s not like I’m taking you into enemy territory,” he jokes, gaze flicking to you from the stars in the open sky.

“I know that. I just can’t help it,” you mutter.

You shiver from the cold breeze, and Sylus shrugs off his leather jacket and places it over your shoulders. He leans down and zips it partway, resting his chin atop your head.

“Those hunter instincts of yours need to settle down,” he hums.

“I wish they would— Sylus!”

A hearty chuckle leaves him as you bounce away from his hold. Your eyes narrow at his treachery.

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

“Don’t you try and tickle me,” you warn playfully. You slip your arms through the sleeves of his leather jacket, trying to pull the sleeves back from over your palms to point at him. “Or I’m gonna tickle you back.”

Sylus smirks and rubs his fingers together. “Is that a challenge?”

“Mr. Sylus, Mrs. Sylus,” greets a familiar voice.

Embarrassment makes you duck your head away from the captain for a brief moment before you look at him.

“Just thought I’d come and let you know we’ll be docking soon.” The captain takes his hat off and bows before you both. “Thank you for allowing me the chance to sail you both for the last three days.”

Sylus nods his head in acknowledgment “Thank you for giving us safe passage, Arthur.”

Arthur nods, reapplies his cap and heads back to steer the ship into the upcoming port.

You don’t get to watch as he disappears since Sylus wraps his arms around you, pulling your chin to his chest. He presses a sweet kiss to your temple and murmurs, “I do believe we’re here.”

The distraction of the captain was long enough that the scenery before you had changed into the moonlit sea into a large landmass illuminated by the full moon above.

Your jaw drops open at the sight, eyes lighting up as you get closer and closer to the port where the ship would dock.

“Sylus, where are we?” you ask quietly.

“It’s an island,” he states. “One that I bought awhile back and was making… renovations for.”

“Renovations? For what?”

He laughs softly and looks at you like you’re a goddess. “For whom, you mean.”

Your eyes widen into saucers. Is he…? Could he seriously mean…?

“Sylus, you bought me an island?” you inquire, utterly flabbergasted.

“I can’t exactly un-buy it, so I do hope you’ll like it,” he replies. To your ears and yours alone you can hear his wavering tone, like he’s awaiting your disappointment. You can’t have that.

You cup his cheeks and force him to look at you again.

“Sylus, I love it; even if it’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever been gifted, I love it. It’s just going to take me time to get used to it,” you tell him. Then you step on your tippy-toes and give him an eskimo kiss. “Thank you. I love you.”

You kiss him there at the front of the ship, wrapped in his warm, protective embrace, momentarily oblivious to the world and your surroundings.

What you’re also oblivious to, and have been since the start of the trip, is the fat diamond ring that’s been tucked away, hidden in Sylus’s bottom drawer to his dresser. And also to the fact of his other reason of being nervous.

To him hoping that you’ll say “yes” when he gets down on one knee to ask you to marry him.

But he’ll save that for later. Right now he intends to indulge and savor your lips on his and you being tucked into him, safe from the world to be loved and worshipped by him.

And hopefully, for the rest of this lifetime.

[muffinlance]

Consider: Post-canon Zuko wakes up in the body of his childhood self, the morning of That War Meeting. Would he still speak against the plans, knowing his fate? What do you think he would do differently the second time around?

"Turned away at the doors, Zuzu?"

"Shut up, Azula," her brother sulked. But sulked weirdly, after staring at her too long and too wide-eyed, not like she'd surprised him but--

But like he hadn't expected her to be there. At all.

He turned away. ...He turned back. "Hey, Lala? Do you think you could help me practice that one set?"

He didn't meet her eyes.

She narrowed hers. "Which set?"

"The one I'm bad at."

She scoffed. Pushed away from the wall she'd been leaning against. "That's all of them, Dum-Dum."

He didn't shout or stomp or yell about the nickname. His lips twitched.

"It's okay," he said. "If you're afraid you won't be a better teacher that my instructor..."

It was the most obvious manipulation ever.

Perhaps if he proved an adequate firebending student, she'd work on his courtly survival skills next. Honestly, it was good that not even Uncle Gets-Cousins-Killed had been fool enough to take Zuko into that war meeting. She could only imagine how terribly that could have gone.

"Keep up," she said, and turned her steps towards the training grounds.

He did. There, and during the katas she ran him through.

Azula kept her eyes narrowed.

"Hey," he asked, "do you know how to bend lightning yet?"

As if he could have missed it, if she'd been able to get more than sparks. "I will soon," she said.

"You will," he agreed, and flowed through his next set. The one she'd only just mastered.

Father didn't notice how weird Zuzu was being. Uncle never noticed anything. Zuko ate dinner and asked a servant for seconds and didn't stutter or flinch or lose his appetite when father asked, coolly, what he'd done with his day. Azula's shoulders tensed, because one mention of how she'd squandered her own training time teaching him--

"Azula hogged the training grounds. For hours," Zuzu scowled, exactly like a petulant thirteen year old.

Exactly like he hadn't been acting all day.

By the time Father was looking her way, Azula had her usual smirk in place. "I'm sure there would be room for both of us," she said, "you're not afraid of a little friendly fire, are you, brother?"

Zuko sulked. And ate his seconds, like he was enjoying each bite. There was something in his eyes, like a joke no one else was getting.

---

Father died that night. A heart attack. There were the faintest of burns to either side of the treacherous organ; the royal physician hypothesized that he'd grabbed at his chest, fingers burning hot in his final moments; so hot they'd only exacerbated the problem.

The royal physician would never have been brought any victims of lighting strikes. Those that occurred in the capital did not generally require a doctor in the aftermath.

Zuzu ate a hearty breakfast.

He didn't order seconds. Azula gave him points, at least, for not being tacky.

---

The sages named Iroh as regent.

They named Zuko as Fire Lord.

"No," the tiny Fire Lord in his perfectly miniaturized Fire Lord robes said, sitting at the head of his war council. "We're not doing that. And I'll be reviewing all recent battle plans, as well. What's this I hear about a division of new recruits being deployed to the front?"

He did not mention how he'd heard of the 41st Division. No one asked.

"Prince Iroh, surely--" one of the generals tried to appeal.

The young Fire Lord's regent was looking as startled as the rest of them, for a moment. Then he sipped his tea, and smiled.

"Your Fire Lord is correct, of course. A change in our leadership--a change the other nations may mistakenly view as weakness--will necessitate a change in our strategy."

"Now," said their lord, "what, exactly, is our overall objective in this war?"

War, the new Fire Lord decreed, was not an end unto itself.

---

The new Fire Lord continued to have time, to pretend to be trained by her. Azula watched him. Adjusted her footwork. Did not tolerate, and was not offered, any commentary on who was teaching who.

"What did you do with my brother?" she asked, as they flowed from one set to the next. As her hands, poised to throw fire, just so happened to be pointed his way.

He missed a step. It didn't look like an act.

"I'm, uh. Right here?"

She didn't bother to dignify that.

He didn't bother to look worried about her hands, one movement off from a true attack.

He looked around, then grabbed her sleeve, and tugged her further from any walls that may hide ears. The royal family's private training grounds were wonderfully large, and wonderfully open.

"It's me," he said. "It's still me. Just. More of me? Longer of me?"

She narrowed her eyes. A familiar expression, by this point. "Explain."

"...I found the Avatar," he said. "And this is definitely his fault, but--but I guess it started at a war meeting, when I was thirteen."

Azula listened. It was a very Dum-Dum story.

[a99jazzybean]

Let's Experiment a Little

synop: Viktor requests your assistance in testing out a new invention. Little did you know, walking into that lab would be your undoing.

words: 3.1K

includes: jayvikxfem!reader, sex, threesome, vibrators, fingering, cum eating, riding, a sprinkle of pathetic Jayce.

a/n: Besties, it's just porn. So 18+ only!

Stop by the lab tonight. Wear a skirt.

-V

You looked over the note Viktor had stuck to your door. Oddly enough, it wasn't a weird request from the man. Him and Jayce had begun working on technology for medical purposes, and you just so happened to be the perfect candidate for beta testing some of their inventions. While you had gotten a shock once or twice, most of the time it was generally safe. Plus they had perfected stabilizing the hexgems, so you weren’t too concerned. 

Obliging Viktor’s request, you donned a short skirt. Something you hadn’t worn for awhile as showing this much skin wasn’t necessarily something you enjoyed. But for science, you’d allow it. Sure, you could have picked something slightly longer, but you had a feeling they were going to need to connect something to your exposed skin. Might as well remove that barrier. 

Okay, maybe you were lying to yourself. Perhaps there was a small part of you that wanted to gain the men’s attention. Lord knows they always gave it their all on their work. Maybe they could give you some for just a little bit of time. Especially considering you had been pining after them for what seemed like forever. 

Little did you know, the two shared the same affections for you. Viktor being his cool, calculated self patiently waited for your entrance. Jayce was fiddling with hands as he waited as well. 

“Do you think she’s gonna come?” The larger man asked, hazel eyes glistening with hope.

Viktor hummed, a smirk on his face.

“Yes. She always does. Tonight will be no different.”

As he finished his sentence you pushed open one of the doors to the lab. Peeking in your head and beaming when you saw the men. You entered the room, not noticing the men appraising your appearance. Their eyes raking over your very exposed legs. Jayce was sure if you bent over he would be able to see everything. 

“So, what do you need help with?” You asked, nervously rocking on the balls of your feet. 

“Just some testing on a new device of ours.” Viktor said cooly. His gold eyes trying to read you. 

Your demeanor, sweet as always. Innocent. Though Viktor knew you better than that. Catching your lustful gaze one too many times as you watched his hands fiddle with tools. Enjoying the way your mouth would part in awe when he would dexterously spin screwdrivers with his fingers. 

“What’s the device do?” You asked, looking around to see if it was visible.

Viktor bit his tongue with a coy smile. He could just outright tell you, but where was the fun in that? He could already picture the flustered state you’d be in when you connected the dots yourself. 

“Something that can help provide relief.”

You raised a brow, a confused yet oh so adorable look on your face. 

“Yeah, relief.” Jayce echoed giddly. The action made him receive a warning look from Viktor. The man decided to let his partner do the rest of the talking. Jayce was never good at keeping surprises. 

“Like pain relief?” You asked. 

Something felt off. The air in the lab was charged with something, something you couldn’t place your finger on. Both of the men eyeing you up as if they wanted to devour you. Which they did, but you weren’t privy to that just yet.

“Something like that…” Viktor trailed, hoping you would catch on soon. 

“Why are you being so cryptic?” You felt your heart rate pick up. 

Yes, there was something different about this request of theirs. 

“I’m not being cryptic.” The man gave you another smirk. 

“Quit teasing me…” You almost whined. 

“Why don’t I show you the device?” Viktor waved for Jayce to grab the item. 

The taller man held a box in his hand, as he ushered you up to him and Viktor. You tentatively made your way over to the men. Still feeling their hungry gazes on you. 

When you stood before them, Jayce opened the box. Inside was a small somewhat cylindrical shaped item, but more organic looking. It was the classic blue of Hextech items, with a gold trim. On top, a smaller version of the hexgem was placed in a divot. There were three buttons on the object. Jayce picked it up and placed it in your hand. It was made of a softer material, almost rubber like. Your fingers skimmed over it, eyes filled with curiosity. It was unlike anything they had made before. 

“What is it?” You asked after observing it. 

“Press this button.” Viktor pointed to the one closest to the front end of the item. 

You did as he asked. The hexgem glowing blue, as a small vibration came from the item. The movement startling you, making you almost drop the item. Thankfully, you managed to keep ahold of it. 

“S-sorry!” You said, cheeks ruddy with embarrassment. “I didn’t know it was going to do that.”

“Press the one on the opposite side!” Jayce said, eyes glittering with anticipation. 

You nodded, pressing the other button. The vibrations changed into a pattern of buzzes. A look of confusion on your face. You didn’t understand how this could provide pain relief. Then you had a bit of a lightbulb moment. 

“Oh! Is it a massager? That’s what you mean about pain relief? The vibrations loosen muscles.” You looked at them with a smile. Catching them giving each other knowing looks. 

Viktor reached for the item, turning it off. Nimble fingers tracing around the edge of it. He chuckled.

“It’s a massager of sorts. Would you care to try it out?” That hunger was back in his eyes again. 

“Sure!” You said. You enjoyed helping your friends, even if they were being odd. It was for science after all. 

“Jayce.” Viktor nodded to the doors. 

Obeying the unspoken command, Jayce jogged over to the doors. Quickly flicking the locks on. The action making your heart rate speed up. 

“Why did you lock the doors?” 

“This experiment… is eh, best performed away from prying eyes.” That coy smile played on his lips. “Jayce, why don’t you come over?”

The man once again followed the command. Viktor patted the counter next to him. Jayce took a seat on top, legs spread. 

“Why don’t you sit here?” Viktor pat the open space between the man’s thick thighs. 

Heat shot to your face. The thought of the close proximity making your heart flutter. 

“Oh…um. Okay.” You said softly, walking to the counter and sitting between his legs.

Warm hands grasped your waist and pulled  you flush against the tall man’s chest. 

“Don’t worry, I don’t bite. Unless… you want me to?” He flashed a gap-toothed smile at you. 

Your heart was hammering in your chest. You let out a squeak of surprise when a cold hand grasped your thigh. Viktor had pulled up to you. He placed the device on the counter. Long fingers traced circles on your thigh as you felt your breathing pick up. Face flush with embarrassment. 

Viktor knew you would comply with their wishes. Always the people pleaser. You had put yourself in uncomfortable positions for the men before, and you would keep doing so. Something Viktor greatly appreciated. Such a devoted and pretty test subject. 

“Before we begin testing the device, we’ll have to see how you respond to more neutral stimuli.” His gold eyes locked with yours, making you shiver. 

The hand on your thigh, still affectionately drawing along your skin. 

“Neutral stimuli?” You squeaked, barely finding your voice. 

This position was something you had dreamed of for countless nights. It felt unreal. Having the two men touching you like this. 

“Yes, neutral. I suggest using my hands.” He said, placing his free hand on your other thigh. The action made you jolt, but Jayce quickly held your hips down. The man behind you chuckled darkly. 

“You can tell me to stop. I will. We’ll unlock the doors, and you can head home like nothing happened.” The man before you spoke lowly. “Or you can stay. Which is what you want, isn’t it?” 

You felt like you couldn’t speak. Instead, you nodded your head. Your lack of words making Viktor tisk. The hungry look in his eyes had you shivering.

“I need you to say it.” 

“Yes.” You breathed. 

Jayce stiffened behind you, a small whine leaving him. The sound shooting straight to your core. 

“Now, shall we begin?” Viktor asked. 

“Yes. Please.” You said.

The man before you chuckled. His hands pushing up your skirt. His amber eyes flitting up to you after he took in the panties you were wearing. A cute white lacy number. A long finger reaching under the waistband, snapping it against your skin. The sharp sting made you jolt, but Jayce held you down again. 

Trailing a finger on your clothed core had Viktor groaning. You were already so wet, so ready for them. He pulled your panties off, and groaned again. The sight of your weeping core making his cock strain in his pants. Behind you, you could feel Jayce’s own erection pressed against your back. He felt huge, and Viktor wasn’t anything to shrug off either. Through his pants you could tell he was hung.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Viktors fingers swept through your folds. A strangled moan leaving your lips as he did so. Jayce’s cock twitching at the sound, a groan of his own hot against your neck. The man began to leave wet kisses down your throat, occasionally nipping at your sweet spots to hear the sounds you made. 

“Such a pretty pussy.” Viktor was entranced by you. Loving how slick you already were. Practically dripping onto the counter beneath you. 

The pad of his thumb swiped against your clit, a tremor shooting through you. Then he inserted one of his fingers, drawing out a long moan. Jayce’s hands traveled up your body, warm palms groping your breasts. Squeezing them as Viktor continued to play with you. Inserting another finger, then curling them on that sweet spot inside of you. The loud moan you let out made the man’s cock twitch in his pants. His fingers continued to stroke at the spot, making sounds continually tumble out of you. Eyes rolling back as you felt him bring you closer to your peak. 

“Fuck, Jayce. She’s squeezing so tight.” Amber eyes looked over you. Already wrecked, arching back into Jayce. Mouth open and panting. “I bet you’re about to cum, aren’t you?” He crooned. 

“Mhmm.” It came out strangled.

“Do it, cum for us.” 

His words shoot electricity through you. Your pussy clenching against his fingers. Fluids covering his hand as you came. Continually moaning as you came down from the high. Thrusting against Viktor’s fingers, while grinding against Jayce’s cock. The man behind you holding your body in place, forcing you to take the overstimulating pleasure. When you whimpered, Viktor removed his fingers from you. Bringing them to his lips, sucking your essence off of them with a groan. 

He leaned up and offered his fingers to Jayce. The man gladly opened his mouth to taste the two of you. His tongue lapping at Viktor’s fingers with a groan. 

“Fuck, you taste good.” Jayce said, voice husky. He returned to kissing your neck. 

Viktor, despite having you rattle him internally, remained composed on the outside. 

“Now, let's try out the toy.” He said, grabbing it and pressing one of the buttons. 

He placed it against your clit, the vibrations unlike anything you had ever felt before. Pleasure coursing through you, practically making you scream. Gods, you were already cumming again. Your cum covering Viktor’s hand once more. 

His mouth was open in surprise at how quickly you climaxed. Cock twitching uncomfortably once again.

You relaxed into Jayce’s hold, unsure if you could take more. Based on the hungry gaze in Viktor’s eyes, he was going to make you. And you would gladly accept it. 

“Let’s try that again.” He said, turning on the device. 

The next time you came was less intense, but still left your body electrified. You were wet and sticky. Your spent coating your thighs and the countertop. 

“Jayce, why don’t we try what we discussed earlier.” Viktor said.

The man didn’t have to say it twice. Jayce excitedly pulled off his belt and scooted his pants and underwear down. Cock springing free against your ass. It was so hot, almost pulsating with want. 

“He’s going to fuck you, okay?” It really wasn’t much of a question. More like making sure you understood what was about to happen. 

The thought of Jayce filling you had your pussy gushing. You whined, pressing back against Jayce. The man letting out a hiss as you ground against him. He stalled your hips, easily lifting you up with his strength. Strong hands holding you in place as he lined his cock up with your entrance. Your slick dripping down onto his unbearably hard cock. 

Both of you whined as he slid you down his length. With how wet you were you took the man easily. Jayce’s hand reached around to your tummy, feeling him bulge through your stomach making him groan. 

“C’mon Jayce, fuck her.” Viktor stared at where you and Jayce were connected. Loving the way your pussy sucked up the man’s cock. 

Jayce didn’t need to be told twice. He forced you down his cock, making him moan. He was hitting you in places you had never reached before. 

“S-so tight, and wet. Mmph… why didn’t we do this sooner?” He whined out.

Suddenly, you both jolted as vibrations were pressed against your pussy.

“Shit V, that, that feels so good.” The man fucking you was practically drooling at the pure pleasure he was feeling. 

The sensations were turning you into a moaning mess. Jayce continued to force you down on his cock. Both of you feeling your climaxes on the horizon. You were sure you were going to squirt again. The pleasure was too much, but oh so addicting. These men were going to ruin sex for you, and you didn’t mind at all. 

“Please, baby. Please.” Jayce whined as he kissed up your neck. Leaving a trail of hickies against your throat. “Please cum on my cock. Need to. Need to feel you.” 

The vibrations and the man’s pleas made you shudder. White hot pleasure coursing through your body. Making you scream as you came, drenching his cock. Your plush walls clamping down on him made the man finish. Gritting his teeth and groaning as he filled you. The heat from his cum making you moan. His cock twitched with aftershocks.

Viktor removed the vibrator. He gazed over you and Jayce’s intertwined bodies. The man behind you grabbed your chin, making you face him. Hot lips captured yours, the kiss wet and debauched. Your pussy clenched around Jayce again, making him whimper in your mouth. 

He pulled you against his hard chest. Kissing all over your face and neck as you attempted to catch your breath. A very sweet lover he was. 

A cold hand on your thigh returned your attention to Viktor. The fun wasn’t over just yet. Through the fabric of his pants you could see his cock painful straining. 

“My turn.” Viktor said. 

Jayce shakily lifted you off of him. Groaning as he watched his seed drip down your thighs. Two long fingers swiped along your inner thigh, picking up the cum. Viktor placed them against your lips. You complied, trailing your tongue along his fingers, enjoying the taste of Jayce. Eyes fluttering shut in bliss. 

Viktor slowly stood up, and walked over to the couch the two kept in the lab to crash on. Sitting down, he shifted down his pants and boxers. Hard cock springing free, a bead of precum at the head. It made your mouth water. He grasped his dick and began stroking, eyeing you.

“Well, are you just going to sit there?” He huffed.

“I-I don’t think I can walk.” You said sheepishly.

He chuckled.

“Jayce, be a dear.” 

The man behind you nodded enthusiastically. Lifting you off the table, seating you on Viktor’s lap. Your overstimulated pussy grinding against his cock, making Viktor groan. His hands grabbed at your waist. Forcing you up, then down onto his dick in one swift motion. 

“Ah!” You gasped at the intrusion. 

Looking at Viktor you watched as the man’s eyebrows twitched from the pleasure of having you wrapped around him. 

“You feel so hot, so perfect…” He cut off with a moan as you lifted your hips and began to ride him.

“We should, should, should have done this sooner.” He groaned at the feel of you. 

His length making you whimper. Electric shocks sparking through you with each grind against him. With the little composure he had, the man slotted your lips against his. His tongue sliding against yours, making you moan into his mouth.

So much pleasure, too much pleasure. However, you wouldn’t have it any other way. Allowing yourself to fall into the bliss. Viktor’s hand reaching between your bodies, playing with your clit.

“Viktor…” You breathed. “You’re gonna make me cum… again.”

“Good.” He pecked at your lips. 

The look in his eyes along with a swipe on your nub, made you choke out a moan as you clenched around him. The heat in your belly was overwhelming. Yet you found your body couldn’t stop. Reaching for another high as you rode him like no tomorrow. 

“Again.” He groaned. “I need to feel you again.”

Nodding, you whimpered. 

Jayce was already hard again. Stroking himself as he watched you ride his partner. Biting his lip, he tried holding off cumming. The two of you were so hot. So much better than the man could ever imagine. He thumbed the head of his cock, then shuddered over as he came in his hand. 

“Viktor…” You whined.

“I know, I know. Cum for me.” 

And you did, another shudder making you clench around the man. The tightness forcing his own climax out from him. His cum filling you along with Jayce’s. The thought of having both of them in you making you clench around him again. Eliciting a strangled groan as Viktor’s cock twitched with aftershocks. 

The two of you came down from your final highs. Foreheads pressed together as you caught your breath. After a moment, you slowly lifted yourself off Viktor. Releasing a moan as his softening dick left you. His spent mixed with Jayce’s spilling out of you before you collapsed onto the couch cushion next to him. 

The only sounds in the lab were your labored breaths. You perched yourself on your elbows, taking in your surroundings. Viktor’s head leaned back against the couch. Jayce slumped over. Both men were looking at you, making your heart swell. 

“You could have just asked.” You breathed. “Not come up with some ruse to tease me with.”

“But what would be the fun in that? You make for a great test subject.” 

[that-random-fangirl]

Part 4 - Three Bats Walk Into a Food Court (And Also a Person)

~~~~~✨~~~~~

Jason’s brother was a dick. Without a doubt, 100%, an asshole. Said brother had insisted on meeting up for Sibling Bonding Jaybird! No, this was not ‘sibling bonding’, this was the result of the asshole losing a bet with Steph, having to go shopping with her as forfeit �� and dragging Jason into the nightmare under false pretences.

“Dick.” Jason spat from the backseat, meaning it in every sense.

“Yes Lil’ Wing?” The Dick-in-question responded from the driver’s seat as he pulled into a parking space at the mall.

“Richard.” 

Richard (Dick) Grayson gasped in horror. “No! You can’t full name me I’m older than you!”

Steph snorted in the passenger seat. “It’s your legal name, not your full name, dumbass.”

“Then you can’t legal-name me! I’ll tell Alfred!” 

Jason raised an eyebrow, reaching into his jacket pocket for his wallet. “Oh really? You’ll tell Alfred?” 

“Yes.” 

Steph watched the exchange eagerly, hitting record on her phone to capture whatever followed. “Oh this’ll be good.”

Jason produced a card from his wallet and presented it to Dick. “There you go.”

“I told you writing ‘I do what I want’ on a card doesn’t count as any kind of permit. I’m a cop, I’m not gonna fall for that.” He scoffed, before adding in a mutter. “Again.”

“Nothing of the sort, Dickolas – look at the card.” Jason insisted.

“What? This one? Fine.” Dick sighed, before beginning to read in a mocking tone. “Master Jason has every right and my permission to legal-name Master Rich—” He trailed off. “What the fuck? Alfred is in on this?!”

“It was his idea, actually.” Steph commented. “Something about how someone has to do it when he’s not available.”

“Why the fuck does Jason have it?!”

“I was nominated.” Jason shrugged.

“That doesn’t answer my question?!”

“Well,” Steph started, beginning to count them off on her fingers, “Damian is the baby, so you’d never take it seriously. Duke was busy with finals at the time. Cass didn’t want it. I’m apparently not ‘mature’ enough, or something. Tim can barely take care of himself and keeps forgetting to sleep so it couldn’t be him. Babs already has authority over you and Bruce wasn’t involved.”

“Plus we don’t listen to the Old Man anyway.” Jason added.

Dick stared at them, mouth hanging open. “What qualified Jason?!”

“Well he did start his own very successful business.” Steph mused.

“He became a Crime Lord!”

“His Business has many departments, and he handles all of them without resorting to over-caffeination and sleep deprivation.”

“He’s literally a vigilante.”

“We’re all vigilantes, get with the program. He was the best one for the job.” Steph replied, climbing out of the car and tapping away on her phone, probably sending the video to the Bat-siblings group chat.

“But I’m the oldest.” Dick whined, making his way around the front of the car to stand with Steph.

“Precisely why you need someone to legal-name you, can’t have you getting too cocky now, can we?” Steph teased, looking up from her phone and pinching at one of Dick’s cheeks.

“No we cannot.” Jason agreed. “I’m in the front on the way back, by the way, I can’t believe you stuffed me in the backseat.” He shut the door with perhaps a touch more force than was necessary, just to see his brother’s face scrunch up in displeasure.

“Please don’t slam the door. I like this car.”

“Oops.” Jason deadpanned.

Steph chose that moment to interrupt. “Not my fault you’re gigantic, I was there first.” She flicked her hair off her shoulder. “I didn’t choose the Passenger Princess life, it chose me.”

“Well, next time you can ‘passenger princess’ in the back, your highness.” Jason bowed mockingly. “Then you can stretch out across the backseat.”

“Solid point – I call backsies when we’re done here!”

“You cannot stretch out on the backseat while I’m driving that’s illegal.”

Jason and Steph stared at Dick for a moment, then – realising he was serious – tried and failed to stifle their laughter. 

“Wow.” Steph gasped, smacking Jason’s shoulder in her amusement. “That’s hilarious, holy crap.”

“Yeah, alright Dickhead, sure.” Jason snorted.

“I’m serious.” 

“Jeez if you’re that worried, I’ll drive.” Jason shrugged. “Can’t have the ‘passenger princess’ not playing passenger.”

Dick pressed his fingers together and into his chin. “I just said I like this car, you are not driving it.”

“You know I’m the best driver out of the clan, excluding Alfred, of course.” Jason protested.

“You drive like you have nothing to live for.” Dick pointed out, immediately regretting his words.

“Well yeah, I died.”

“Oh my God.” Dick threw his hands in the air, spinning on his heel and marching towards the entrance to the mall. “Nope, you are not driving my car. Let’s go get this done before you people drive me to the dark timeline.”

Steph and Jason trailed after him, sniggering.

Eventually, with only one instance of Jason ramming Dick into a concrete planter in the parking lot, the trio made it into the mall. Steph had stowed her phone and set off at a truly impressive – if you didn’t know she was a vigilante who leapt from rooftops after hours – pace for the other side of the complex.

“Steph! Slow down!” Dick begged, hopelessly.

“Dick! Hurry up!” Steph responded.

“Why are you going all the way to the other side of the mall? Don’t you wanna look here?” Dick blurted, confused.

“Dicky-boy, why don’t you know how to shop?” Steph halted in her march, facing them to shake her head. “The answer is so obvious!”

“No it’s not?!” Came Dick’s desperate reply.

Jason sighed, deciding to help his idiot older brother. “We’re starting further so we finish closer, dumbass.”

“Ohhh.” 

“Yes, ‘ohhh’, fuckin’ idiot.”

Steph smirked, spinning back on her heel and setting off again with a flick of her hair over her shoulder. Her minions associates following close behind.

Truthfully, this situation was Danny’s fault, He hadn’t been looking where he was going and now, he was drenched in several hot drinks and covered in three different kinds of fries. In his defence, he was running on probably 20 minutes of sleep and still injured – with all that on top of literally being half dead – it’s fair to say he was a little out of it.

“Well, that’s not ideal.” Danny muttered. 

That didn’t quite cover it, but it was better than the expletives that had filled the air following his collision with a tall, dark-haired and blue-eyed man carrying a tray of food court fare. The tray of food that was now all over Danny and the man himself.

“Oh my God I’m so sorry are you okay?!” The man exclaimed.

“Are these chilli cheese fries? I’d ask if you recommend them but I’m guessing you haven’t tried them.” Danny asked, only to be met with silence. “Okay, wrong crowd, it’s fine – don’t worry.”

“Uh, you sure, kid? You’re covered in – well – a whole lotta stuff.” A blonde woman in a purple sweatshirt pointed out.

“I’m not a kid,” Danny grunted, “and I’ve been covered in worse things.”

“When and how?” Some jock-looking dude with a white streak in his black hair – weird fashion statement but go off, I guess – asked, seeming genuinely surprised.

“Um, people like you aren’t exactly ‘besties’ with people like me?” Danny stated, gesturing to – well – all of the guy in question before doing the same to himself. “I end up in lockers and trashcans because I fit?”

“What do you mean ‘people like you?” The guy asked, somewhere between insulted and concerned.

“Uh, jocks? What did you think I meant?”

“You – hah – you think Jason is a jock?!” The guy who Danny bumped into in the first place laughed from the floor where he’d landed post-collision.

“Uh,” Danny started, “I did, though it looks like I was wrong? Sorry, man.”

“It’s fine, kid.” Jason responded, raising an eyebrow with half a smile, daring him to say anything.

“I probably deserved that.” Danny laughed. “Sorry about your lunch, I guess?”

“It’s fine.” The girl assured. “Dick ran into you.”

“I’m sure he’s not a dick!” Danny insisted.

She laughed out loud with Jason while the other guy just smiled.

“She’s not calling me names, don’t worry.” His smile grew. Apparently, he was trying not to laugh, he offered a hand to shake. “My name is Richard, but I go by Dick. The girl about to fall over is Steph, and the guy is Jason.”

“Oh, okay then.” Danny replied, attempting to avoid mentioning that high school must have sucked for this guy. 

He decided the ‘Dick’ name must be a Gotham thing, as that Duke guy from the library had a brother was also apparently called that. He shook Dick’s hand, before suddenly recalling that he hadn’t introduced himself. 

“Oh, right, I’m Danny.”

“Nice to meet you, Danny – let us help you clean yourself up.”

“Oh no it’s fine don’t worry!” Danny tried. “I can sort myself out later!”

“Nope, I just picked up a couple spare sweaters – I have a lot of siblings and they like to steal them – so you and Dick will go change while Steph and I order some more lunch and let one of the workers know about the mess.” Jason insisted, handing Dick his bag before adding; “You like fries, Danny?”

“Yeah? Wait what?”

“Great! Thanks Jay!” Dick called, accepting the bag and grabbing Danny’s hand, half-dragging and half-guiding the boy to the nearest restroom.

Outside the cubicles, Dick handed Danny a sweater.

“Here you go! Blue for you and red for me!”

“Why?”

“Well, blue matches your eyes and red is Jason’s favourite colour, so as his brother I like to wear it to remind him I’m secretly his favourite.” Dick laughed.

“I meant, why are you being so nice to me?” Danny asked, staring into the man’s eyes, “I ran into you, spilled your lunch everywhere and yet you guys are giving me a sweater and apparently buying me lunch? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Why shouldn’t I help you out? It wasn’t your fault, just bad luck.” Dick asked.

“Hah, I seem to get a lot of that.” Danny mumbled, before speaking up, “You don’t even know me.”

 “Why should that stop me from helping you out if I can?” He paused a moment, noticing the lines of distrust etched into Danny’s expression, “ Maybe you remind me of my brother.”

“Jason?”

“Yeah,” Dick nodded.

“How? He’s, and I mean this in the nicest possible way, huge – I’m average-sized at best and compared to that guy I’m a shrimp.”

“He wasn’t always linebacker-sized,” Dick snorted, “He used to be smaller than you – scrappy too.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well, I guess there’s a little more to it than that,” Dick pondered, “We didn’t get along all that well when we were younger, I still regret that. We missed a lot of time together that I wish I could get back.”

“That’s, um, deep?” Danny shifted foot-to-foot, “Thanks – I think?”

“No worries – happy to help!” Dick beamed.

Danny accepted the sweater awkwardly, not sure how to deal with the information that this random dude had just dropped in his lap. He shook it off, heading into the cubicle to change.

Dick watched for half a second, suddenly hit by a wave of emotion. He shook his head, clinging onto the look in Danny’s eyes as a distraction – the same look that was etched into everything Jason did as a child, and reared it’s head even now, at times. The desperation, the mistrust, and worst of all – the way he seemed to accept it as inevitable, like it wasn’t a surprise. Dick didn’t mention that he heard Danny’s comment about having a lot of bad luck. He didn’t mention that the kid looked tired, too thin – he didn’t mention how bony he felt when they collided.

If he texted Jason to get an extra serving or two of fries, that was between him and his Little Wing. If Jason had a few milkshakes along with the fries waiting for them – Dick’s favourite flavour, too – that was simply a coincidence. Steph said nothing, and Danny had no way of knowing.

By the end of lunch, Danny had weaselled Jason’s address out of him, so he could return the sweater once he’d washed it (the kid insisted, though Jason wouldn’t have minded if he never saw the sweater again). Danny wasn’t as subtle as he hoped, but it was hard to get anything by bat-trained vigilantes, and Jason shared the information easily – hopeful that the kid would come if he was ever in any trouble too.

The group bid their goodbyes, Danny heading out on his own, the others returning to their shopping. Soon enough, distracted with their lives and heroics, the vigilantes forgot about the boy with icy eyes, who watched with distrust. A week later, Jason received a package in the mailbox, inside of which was the sweater, some candy and a green post-it note:

‘Thanks for the sweater, and the fries – see you around.

– Danny’

The traces of Lazarus water on the note were only discovered when the other message appeared, weeks later.

‘When her Knights have been called, and arrive on the scene,

Release him, only together can you all win.

If the True shall be bold, you’ll learn where he’s been,

When all is as it should be, the city bells will ring.

– CW’

“Do you ever think Batman gets sad?” Young Danny asks his father as he gets tucked into bed one night.

“I don’t think so, son.” Jack responds, kissing Danny’s head.

Ten years later, as Danny is nearly bleeding to death in Batman’s arms after being found in an alley, he finally understands. Batman can get sad, but he can also be very, very angry at the same time.

[godjustkys]

hii i’d love to read a fic about sam being a top at the start of ur sex life but slowly breaking down into a sub who cries during sex, loves vibrating strokers, being slapped, calls his lover “sir”, loves his hands being tied behind his back and his hair pulled, he likes to wear mascara that runs as he’s being fucked, he loves a mix of harsh degradation and praise

THEME: big boy sammy turning to a pathetic, subby lil thing for you.

CHARACTER: dom!male reader x sub!sam winchester

NOTE: imagine going from a guy who is very clearly a top to the guy who's taking it up the ass just because he's a crybaby who likes to be degraded.

WARNING: DACRYPHILIA,, toy use,, roughhousing,, light slapping,, bit of pet name use (sir),, bondage,, slight hair pulling,, wearing makeup for the sole purpose of ruining it,, DEGRADATION,, praise,, feminization

at the start of your relationship, you had just let sam take control of the sex life. he's a big fella and you haven't given the time to think about sam being the bottom for you.

that is until you had started noticing how much he sought your praise when he was fucking you, giving you those cute puppy dog eyes to enunciate his point. the more your relationship progressed, the more submissive he became. so one day, you decided to try and switch it up; make sam the bottom.

good lord.

after that one time, there was no return. the two of you started experimenting more with certain kinks. even the use of toys, which you had learned that sam adores. all of that brings us to this night.

sammy sitting on the edge of the bed, legs spread, face scrunched up as his hands clenched into fists behind his back; his wrists were tied. he was gushing over the way you were just.. kneeling there, your hand on the vibrating stroker that was currently on his cock, moving it up and down, changing the pace up from time to time. sam did his best to not squirm or jitter. to just sit there and take what you give him like the good boy that he is.

“how's that feel, sam? you gettin' close?” your voice, barely above a whisper, asked, eyes trained onto his expression. sam's thighs tensed and he almost closed his legs, but he stopped himself just in time. he let out a few soft pants, his eyes screwed shut. “sss— yes, mhmm.. m'close..” he got out, his voice strained as his body tensed.

“you gonna be a good boy and cum for me?” you turned the toy from side to side as you continued the up and down motion, egging sam on. “ah- ah-huh, mm, yes sir, yes, jus— jus' a- a little more.” he breathed, hips stuttering as he jerked forward slightly, finally reaching his peak. he dirtied the toy of course, but that didn't matter to you much.

it didn't take long for the guy to end up on the bed, his shoulders and face pressed to the mattress, ass up, his hands still tied behind his back. you pushed your cock against his rim, earning a soft whine from him. “such a slut. you wearin' mascara? for real?” you inquired gently, looking at his side profile as he had his head turned to the side. sam's eyes fluttered shut, lips parted, mind blank. “sam, baby, answer.” you coaxed him, your voice so sweet, fingers carding through his hair. sam let out a tiny, breathless moan at the feeling of your hand at his scalp before answering. “y- it's- you like it, right?” he rasped out, keeping his eyes closed. you only asked that because you saw some of the mascara smudged under his eyes. placing your other hand on the small of sam's back, you pushed your cock in half way, pulled out to the tip and slammed into him with a harsh thrust, bottoming out. the latter whimpered at the roughness, taking in a sharp breath through his mouth, eyebrows stitched together. “g-gah, fuck,” he gasped, his body still sensitive since he came from that vibrating stroker..

your pace was rough. relentless, even though you just started. sam was already writhing, his hands subconsciously tugging on the restraints on his wrists. he clenched around you, his mouth open as the endless moans and whines fell from his pretty lips. “want me to make you cry? fuck you so good that your mascara runs? hm?” you asked rhetorically, giving a particularly hard thrust, in return, sam's back arched and his stomach tensed. “nn- ah, mhm, yes, fuck yes, please-” he whined desperately, pushing his hips back to meet your thrusts.

after a bit, the room was moderately quiet. well, if we're not counting the sounds of skin slapping against skin and sam absolutely sobbing out moans and mewls, hot tears running down his cheeks, his pretty face stained with runny mascara. yeah, this was a good sight. “you're such a whore,” you breathed, trying to keep your voice level despite the panting. “i might start thinking that- this.. ugh, this is the only thing you're good for.” you finished, your hands on his ass, fingers pressed into the flesh. sam let out a soft sob as he processed your words, rubbing his face slightly against the mattress to rid himself of the tears on his face. “i'm using you, and you just don't care?” you mumbled, your face twitching slightly as you kept up the steady pace. “pathetic. you're a sobbing- stuttering mess..”

sam's wrists were red from the continuous straining. he moaned your name, his voice shaky and barely audible. “gghh— aha— oh, fff-fuck,, ah..” his voice was higher pitched and broken in some places. you have hit his g-spot so many times - that's why he's sobbing. it was a mix between pleasure and pain, but his brain was too foggy to distinguish which one was the more prominent feeling. it overwhelmed him and he.. just started crying. but that didn't make you stop, no, why would it? you had pulled out momentarily, only to turn sam over on his back, pushing his legs open and pushing your cock all the way in again, your pace gaining a rhythm that was a bit slower than before.

due to sam's hands being restrained, they stayed under him, basically, he was laying on top of them. it was an uncomfortable feeling but he didn't focus on it too much. sam's face was scrunched up and he was biting his bottom lip to contain the sounds. your hand moved to his chin, which got him to open his eyes even if it was just slightly. he stopped biting his lip, too. you pushed your thumb into his mouth, swirling it around his tongue. he moaned around your finger, his hips stuttering. sam's eyes were so glossy, his undereyes smudged with the makeup. “does the sluttiness run in the family?” you mumbled almost bitterly. “dean's sleeping around with every woman that catches his eye, and you- fuck.. you take cock like you were made for it.” you commented, pushing your thumb to the back of sam's tongue, making him gag slightly and tear up even more. “whorehouse.” another grumble left your lips, eyes staying fixated on sam's mouth.

your free hand ran over sam's pecs and he squirmed a bit as your palms pressed against his nipples. his sounds were getting muffled by the finger in his mouth, but you were just adding a new sensation on top of the others. so overwhelming.. so overstimulating. “god, don't you need a bra for- ngh.. these?” you mocked, narrowing your eyes slightly as you finally looked at his chest. sam managed a mewl as a response to your words. “pecs, they say, yeah.. right.. you got tits.” you said, sending a weird shiver down sam's spine. he coughed a couple times which in return made you take your thumb out of his mouth. his lips were slick with saliva, drool on the corners of his mouth and down his chin. “bastard.” you said through gritted teeth, both hands moving down to grip his trembling thighs.

it went on for a good thirty minutes. you edged sam in the process, not letting him cum. he was so jittery, his body trembling non stop. eventually, just as an experiment, you got the guy on the floor on his knees, his aching arms behind his back, still. he could barely hold himself up but you wanted to fuck his mouth, so he'd have to bear with it. the mascara on his eyelashes was hardly even visible anymore, all it left was a couple black stained streaks down his face. sam was breathing heavily as you pressed the tip of your cock to the side of his face. “c'mon, be a good boy and open your mouth for me..” you uttered urgently, your hand on the bottom of sam's chin, holding quite gently.

sam was fucked so good he was out of it. his red, puffy eyes stared off into nothing and it made you have second thoughts. you used your free hand to very lightly slap sam's cheek to get him to snap out of it. you were about to voice your concerns and finish up with this, but the moment sam looked up at you, all your doubts disappeared. he was looking at you with those puppy dog eyes, so expectantly. he was so wrecked and so pretty, visibly shaking. you didn't even have to repeat yourself and sam opened his mouth, turning his head to the side slightly, his soft lips wrapping around your length so perfectly. “haah, good.. that's good..” you murmured, one hand staying on his jaw, the other moving to the side of his face. “what was that..” you asked softly as sam took you all the way, his lips pressing to your base. “slapping? that's what you're into?” you mused breathlessly as the latter hollowed out his cheeks and started moving his head forwards and backwards, his eyes fluttering shut.

“fuckin' freak,” you degraded, pushing your hips to his mouth a bit quicker, sam's eyebrows furrowing again. he pulled off of your length, only to move his head, stick out his tongue and trace a vein on your cock with it. that action earned a groan from you. “how many dicks have you sucked, hm..? you a prostitute or somethin'? keep your mouth on it,” you had slapped him again, this time more harshly than before. sam breathed out a shaky sigh, muttering what you believed to be a small apology under his breath, putting his mouth over your tip. you just pushed your cock all the way in, down sam's throat, making him gag around it, his teeth accidentally grazing your length. tears welled up in his eyes unfailingly, his jaw going slack. you started facefucking him, being rough. not that sam minded, after all. you were overstimulated from the previous activities, so it didn't take a while for you to cum down sam's throat, your hands tangled in his damp hair. he swallowed around your cock, his thighs pressed together, shoulders tense. “such a good boy..” you said, pulling your length out of his mouth, your thumb wiping away the drool on his chin. “you did so good.” you rasped out, pushing his hair back and out of his face.

this wasn't the first time you were rough with sam. certainly wasn't the last one.

word count: 1,7k (1773)

[david-tennant-in-chairs]

There can be no Crowley without Aziraphale, and there can't be an Aziraphale without Crowley...and they wouldn't have come to life in such an ineffably wonderful way without these two

Source: aziracrowdaily on TikTok

[diushek]

I haven't been able to get this out of my head for weeks, so- the Shen Yuan that transmigrates here.

A Shen Yuan who in his mortal life was a veterinarian just to do something with his life and was good at it, and now, well, he has knowledge that doesn't go away no matter what NPC he transmigrated to. He continues to work and earns a good reputation (of course modern veterinary knowledge is much better than xianxia, even if it is harder to get some medicines). It also involves a lot of trial and error being a creature and beast vet, the usual for the PIDW anti fan that is Shen Yuan.

Then one day an urgent letter arrives from the Emperor: he needs his services.

Shen Yuan is expecting anything - a wild, mythical beast? Some creature he needs to de-poison? Then, he arrives, and a worried emperor tells him that his beloved Lady Chengzi has been very ill, with no appetite and losing a lot of hair.

... Shen Yuan is suddenly faced with the fact of the HUGE number of cats that inhabit the palace. Of all colors, all species, as if a crazy dude with lots stacks of fish in Minecraft had collected all the cats in a village.

But, that's okay. At least there are no harem dramas if those cute little kittens replace the Emperor's conquests. And a quick inspection tells him that Lady Chengzi has a bit of stomach irritation, which should be purged. She is probably stressed!! Lady Chengzi needs to change her food, more brushing so she doesn't swallow hair when washing, and perhaps try to get her to spend less time with the other more playful or noisy cats to lower her stress levels.

Following the instructions to the letter, Lady Chengzi recovers! And now Shen Yuan is asked to check on each of Lord Luo's cats, and then stays for tea. And Luo Binghe not only uses to check the health of his spoiled, beloved and beautiful cats, but also to see the nice vet who does his job best. Luo Binghe is definitely planning to marry him, he is an excellent match and extremely capable of taking care of his kittens and loving them as they deserve. He even remembers all their names and treats them according to their personalities!!

Yes, Luo Binghe has found his perfect future empress in him. He just must learn how to court and conquer him in a way that the clueless vet CAN understand - since apparently questions like if he wants to staying for dinner or staying forever are still very subtle.

happy bingge for gibsonrae1's donation to svsssaction! instead of amassing a harem, bingge becomes a cat dad bc happy cats make happy people! (even though the event is no longer accepting donations, perhaps consider donating to fundraisers vetted by gaza funds / gaza esims as supplies are very low!)

[teencopandthesourwolf]

now on a3 HERE

.

“Holy crapsticks, Derek! Some sort of warning of your imminent wolfy arrival wouldn't go amiss you know? You do own a cellphone—I've seen it with mine own two eyes!”

Derek goes to close Stiles's window, turning his head first to hide his almost-smirk.

“Hey, are you laughing at me?” Stiles asks, affronted.

Derek obviously hides it badly. Or maybe Stiles is just better at catching him out than most people.

Stiles whips off one of his socks, balls it up, and launches at Derek's head. Derek catches it easily before fully turning back around. He then sniffs at it, eagerly, just to gross Stiles out.

It smells—nice, honestly.

Stiles gags. “Oh my God, you are such an asshole.”

“Takes one to know one,” Derek shrugs.

He kind of can't help himself. It's fun getting snarky with this shithead kid, and it's been a while since he's known what fun looks like.

Derek's an asshole. And he's selfish. Does selfishness makes you an asshole by association? Whatever. He figures he's allowed to be a selfish asshole after everything. He stopped caring about social niceties a while back. Stiles—even if undeserving of a selfish asshole like Derek messing up his life more than it's already messed up—doesn't seem to give two shits about that sort of thing anyway.

There is also something awfully delicious about watching Stiles get riled up. That little jackrabbit heart of his thumping even faster against his frail, human ribcage; those usually pale as the moon cheeks flushing hard as he blushes beautifully from a baby pink through to a deep, blood red.

Selfish Asshole is a pretty good position to be in from where Derek is currently standing, watching a satisfyingly scarlet-faced Stiles flail his skinny arms about like an inflatable tube man outside a cheap car sales room.

He asks Derek what he wants and Derek thinks, you.

It's not exactly a revelation. He's had thoughts. Thoughts he's acted on when he's horny and has a precious few minutes to himself. He'd thought it was just a physical thing, at first.

Until the pool.

He licks at his lips and tastes both Stiles's irritation and his desire.

It's the same for him. Stiles annoys the living crap out of him, but he makes his dick hard too. Plus his heart a little soft, dammit.

It's fucking annoying.

Even more irritating is how there are rules for this shit, ones he actually finds himself wanting to abide by for once. He doesn't really know why but maybe it's because everyone he's been with since the fire has thought he was human, and he doesn't have to pretend with Stiles. Maybe he just likes Stiles more than he thought he did.

He rolls his eyes (not just at Stiles) and shucks Laura's old record bag off his shoulder before opening it and carefully taking out its contents.

“Here, take this.”

Stiles eyes him suspiciously before reaching out and taking the small-ish bundle from Derek's grasp, looking at it as though it might be poisoned. It could be for all Stiles knows, he supposes. The kid sniffs at it with only a fraction of the enthusiasm Derek had for Stiles's sock.

“Dude, why in the name of all that is sacred have you brought me a nosegay? Like, what the fuck is this shit? Looks like a really old Dolmades and smells like, like, I dunno, like somebody shoved a bunch of dead flowers in my Dan-O's jar of Italian Herb seasoning, man. Dear lord,” Stiles complains, holding the homemade smudge stick in the air between a finger and thumb as if it's a dead rat.

…which Derek very much could have gone with instead of an apotropaic charm. To be fair, if he'd chosen an offering as a token of his affections, it probably would've been something a little larger like a rabbit.

Stiles should think himself lucky.

“It's a smudge stick, you idiot,” Derek informs the kid, rolling his eyes again for good measure, and reason. His sockets perpetually ache around this dumbass.

He tosses his bag onto Stiles's desk chair, and himself onto Stiles's bed. Hiding out here a while back left him fairly comfortable around the place.

“Oh! I've read about these a ton on like, magic sites and shit, just—I never actually saw one IRL before.”

Derek scoffs. “Nobody actually says IRL in real life, genius.”

“Well they clearly do, Douchey Mc Dickbag, because I just said it, right here, right now,” Stiles sasses and pulls his tongue out at Derek.

Derek wants to bite and suck on it.

“You don't count. You're not real; you're just one of my recurring nightmares,” he sasses right back because it's fun to.

Selfish asshole.

“Awww, Der-bear! So you not only bring me what is essentially a bunch of flowers on Valentine's Day, but you dream about me too? Honestly, I didn't know you cared, big guy!” Stiles moons, clutching the smudge stick to his chest like a fool.

There's a record scratch moment where Derek has to go back over what Stiles just said.

Valentine's Day?

Before giving himself a chance to panic at the extra pressure this brings, he hears himself saying, “What if I am? And what if I do?” because maybe, actually, thinking about it, this will make it easier for Stiles.

Stiles's heartbeat stutters as he sucks in a big, staccato breath that Derek doesn't think he necessarily meant to take, and he sounds a little incredulous when he whispers, “What?” on the exhale.

Derek gets up off the bed and lopes over to where Stiles is standing, planting himself directly in front of the kid, their noses practically touching. He watches, rapt, as Stiles' cheeks go from moon rocks to rose petals to pools of blood, in a matter of seconds.

“There's white sage and sweetgrass and cedar. And yarrow. Wild indigo. Marigolds, too. And, uh, chamomile and mugwort and rosemary and bay. It's for protection. For you. Because,” he pauses, then thinks fuck it, before barrelling on. “Because I want to protect you, dip-shit,” Derek tells him and hopes, and hopes, and hopes.

I don't know who's gonna protect you from me though, he thinks as Stiles swallows. It sounds like a rock in a lake.

“Oh,” Stiles breathes, batting those long, pretty lashes up at Derek as if he has no idea what effect it has on his predatory nature.

He's never known Stiles to speak in one word sentences before now, and he thinks he very much likes knocking the sass right out of the brat like this.

Stiles squirms a little. “Um, I feel kinda bad, now,” he lies, looking down at the singular sock he's still wearing. He doesn't feel bad at all. He smells of pride and excitement and arousal. “I don't have anything to give you.”

Derek says, “Yeah you do; you started leaving your window open again, ” because they both know that ever since the pool, Stiles wants to trust Derek.

This is not a good idea, he thinks. But Derek is a selfish asshole—remember?

He licks at a canine, and Stiles whimpers.

Fuck, Derek thinks as he says, “Also, you could let me do this,” and licks Stiles from jaw to hairline, before he's nestling his entire face into Stiles's neck with a satisfied growl.

“Oh my fucking fuck, Derek, I am so nosegay for you,” Stiles literally whines, and Derek grins as he nips at the kids throat. “It's Happy Valentine's to the both of us then, I guess,” Stiles practically hums, flinging the smudge stick onto his desk before pushing Derek backwards to fall gracelessly onto his bed.

And for the first time in his life Derek thinks, thank fuck for Saint Valentine's.

.

completely unedited so pls be kind, and a very HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY 💕 — awoooooooo!

[angelfishe]

# 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃

Genshin man x reader

Character : alhaitham, diluc, zhongli, ayato.

You love them with your heart but why would he love you when he's surrounded with more beautiful and talented people more than you, maybe leaving would be a good option you wouldn't burden them as well they could move on into a much better option than you. Disappearing from their life completely

Warning : The reader has an inferiority complex, as well mention of suicide and self harming.

ALHAITHAM

Among the seas of students of the akedemiya there are always ones that shine brighter than the others and alhaitham is no exception, one of the most shining stars that would live brighter than the others. While you are by far a regular spantammad student the only difference is that both of you and him are childhood friends.

Unfortunately for you to fail to see the worth for yourself in his life, he would live a much better life without you interrupting his journeys. So when you hear that there's gonna be an expedition towards outside of sumeru you take it, planning on staying out of his life as much as long as possible even meaning being away from your homeland.

You prevent him from knowing about the expedition, knowing that he would try to convince you to quit it as well making him stress about you leaving making sure you would go unnoticed. Soon he realizes every time you visit your house it becomes less crowded and stuff is neatly packed in a box. He started to be suspicious of what was going on.

So when you invite him towards the bar to hang out, he had a bad feeling this would be the last time seeing you. But he pushed it aside because you're here right now not knowing that the goodbye you wave to each other was the last one. Your presence disappears and when he visits your place it is dead silent not a single thing of your stuff.

DILUC

Coming from a lesser noble clan on mondstat your duty was to be served to someone as wife or decorations. And diluc was the one you were destined to be with on the paper agreement with the previous lord of dawn winery.

It's confusing honestly out of all the options of the daughter of another noble family they chose to be his betrothed. You and him would have play dates together to make you two grow closer but sometimes these playdates would include other noble children like jean from the gundihir clan another noble clan as the ragdnivir. To be honest you understand why he would choose jean in the future she's beautiful I mean if you were in his position you would choose Jean.

Unknowningly diluc was the one that chose you when he took a look at the picture of future spouse for him and when he took a glimpse at your portrait it was love first sight you were the one he dreamed to be with and grow a family. Unfortunately you are unable to see that just like a butterfly is unable to see their own beauty.

When he was at snezhnaya you took this opportunity to finally leave for good packing up your stuff without telling anyone even your parents, so when he returned you were nowhere to be found everyone couldn't find you, you were gone. You believe he would be better without you but in truth he was miserable The world was dark and grey and you were the color and now you're gone and he will use anything to find you.

ZHONGLI

Being a minor goddess that joined alliance with him, you didn't expect he would go infatuated with you. He would willingly risk his life for you rescuing you from a monster that was threatening to kill you and when you saw how injured he was after the fight you realized you were a burden to him.

You fully know your weak compared to the other adepti or gods, your domain is small similar to harvia your best friend and you see your fate will happen similar to her being too weak and your people or your close will kill you if you keep being like this. Seeing you as a weakness for rex lapis and if you die his weakness will die. His people and the other need him more than you.

One day, you hear that a new monster has been rampaging and you believe this would be a good way to finally rid of yourself so people won't question your intention. You grab your weapon and ready to the battlefield, when rex lapis got word he arrived you were unfortunately dead watching your body being devoured by the beast.

From that day he blamed himself for your demise as well asking why would recklessly charge yourself to battle after knowing your weakness, in modern liyue he felt a sense of familiarity and saw you walking maybe it's not too late to love you this time he shows you how much he loves you.

AYATO

You couldn't blame him for hiding you from the world knowing a relationship with a master and a servant would be heavily forbidden by the public as well being one of his weaknesses, he needs to appear untouchable in front of the public as well as his enemies to protect you and the clan.

In close door he loves you and showers you with gifts and affection while on the outside he treats you as if you were just a normal servant under his orders another disposable chest piece.

When you were poison, hes eyes would instantly went towards your form but unable to reach you because people were dragging you away and he need to show face of a composed person but how can he act when the love of his eyes was dying in the other room.

One day a resignation letter appeared at his office when he was not at home and thoma informed him you left a day before leaving a letter telling him to move on and love another person and not you. He track your footprints and found you at sumeru studying there as a new student and new alias he ready a ship because he's gonna need explanation from you what you mean move on. Come back to his arms please if you won't he's gonna die without your touch

[takes1]

oh my lord i love your writing it literally has me geeked every time. any possibility you write more for my man asahi? i’ll take anything you have to offer but i can’t stop thinking about something similar in premise to the wrestling where, instead, it’s 7 minutes in heaven? possible details about the closet they’re in being too small for him, perhaps~ because what asahi fan doesn’t appreciate some size difference goodness

asahi azumane x reader w/ size kink

i literally said, out loud, "ohhh!!!" and started writing it as soon as i saw this ask - you have a gift for ideas my love. thank you for sending this in!!!

warnings. heavy nsfw. minors DNI

details. fem!reader / 7 min. in heaven / heavy size kink / heavy claustrophilia / soft top!asahi / mutual?crushing / manhandling / thigh riding / making out / hickeys and marking / semi PDA / rough but sweet!asahi / 2.3k words / oh lord another maybe? two parter

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. my imagines. my request box

"Well, it's not a closet per se," Suga cocked his head at the half-done, dusty, crawl space the group chose for this game, "But it'll do, right?"

Asahi glanced down at you and didn't stop. You were taken by a big wave of chills, crossed your arms, looked away, then back up-- and he was still looking down at you. Any hope of subtlety was over.

He nodded, despite being the most effected by the size problem of this unfortunate reality.

"Well, there's nothing in it."

A fair point. The other closets were filled with closet-like things. Towels, cleaning supplies, pantry items, tools. The group, consisting of mixed-up members of Karasuno volleyball teams, had a fun treasure hunt with that stuff, but this was what you were after. A closet to play your thirsty game in.

'Unfortunate' was just one mode of perception. Less room meant more contact, but nobody was saying that aloud.

"Can you even fit in here, dude?" Nishinoya clambered out with relative ease, albeit sideways.

Every girl except you looked away as Asahi tried, embarrassed at the way the boards creaked, how he wouldn't be able to enter normally because his shoulders were too wide for the space. He had to bend at the waist because he was far too tall. You scanned the empty space in front of him, warm and tingly.

There was some room! You could fit there and you would, maybe, die trying.

Ever since Daichi retired to his room for the night, nobody had taken up the burdensome mantle of responsibility. His dad-like severity had a strong influence on the types of activities that were 'allowed' to happen.

7 Minutes in Heaven would have never been brought up with him present.

As long as the Karasuno teams were quiet enough to not wake him, you could carry on.

It's not that a game of spin the bottle, or some truth or dare, was necessarily scandalous, but it was enough to get everybody giggling and generate the who-has-a-crush-on-who type of conversations. Since everybody left downstairs were the interested ones that hadn't gone to bed already, it left this smaller, more intimate group to carry out some otherwise repressed desires.

You weren't the first to go in, but it was clear that the first pairing didn't do anything. That was fine and all, and a good reminder that you didn't have to kiss, if you didn't want to.

When Asahi was asked who he wanted to spend the time with, he returned your previous admission from a different game.

"I mean- why would I not say (Y/n)?"

He looked from Suga, who had taken the mantle of 'fun-mom' in all of this, being the bottle-spinner and card-holder and question-maker, back to you.

You realized the time he took to look at his friend was probably the only instance in the past 30 minutes that his eyes hadn't been locked onto you, ever since you admitted your little crush for him.

Getting in was about as easy as you imagined.

It had you both packed so tight that you had maybe an inch to move, at best. It forced you to put your hands on each other, just to stay oriented in the pitch black, and not trip.

"G-od," He sighed, and you earned a centimeter of space for two seconds. Then he had to take another breath and you were immobilized again, "We gotta- gotta adjust, or somethi-ng."

A strained, "Y-eah," was all you could get out. This was not a space meant to fit two people.

"I think, if... I..."

In the darkness, all you could see was some vague shadows move as he stretched down. His palms swallowed up your sides, and you desperately tried to keep your excitement down when you felt for his shoulders. He curled you up and threaded a strong, wide thigh between yours.

Most of it was genuine adjustment, but that didn't mean that it felt any less erotic. Just having to wrap your arms around his body and pull, so that you could sit higher up on his leg, was making your heart race.

"That feel better?"

His grumbly tone forced your thighs to tighten, the way you sat becoming more arched.

You could only give him a whisper, voice strained, because of how nervous you felt, "Yes."

Asahi chuckled right away, his breath ghosting right past your temple.

It was impossible to tell if he was bent to purposefully be close, or if there was no space to straighten more. You assumed the most polite option.

"You, uh- you... comfortable?" He muttered, more against you instead of anywhere else he could've possibly spoken, "Comfortable enough- I guess?"

You laughed, "Sure, yeah."

His thumb started rubbing against your side as he laughed with you. You could feel yourself getting wet, and tried to suppress any automatic squirming.

"You're- a... a nice seat--," Your face scrunched, your innocent words unsuccessful at trying to make things silly, and easy.

"Oh?" He chuckled at you.

"I- didn't--," You looked up in the dark, but couldn't see anything, and tried to pray away your embarrassment, "I did not mean it like that."

His grin spread, and you could feel his stubble really clearly against your forehead.

A tiny kiss to your hairline made your fingers grip his t-shirt, your spine straighten, your poor heart work even harder.

"It's okay if you did," The smile in his voice was so sweet.

Kissing him was shockingly simple. You felt like you had lots to say, things to explain, but they were so unimportant when his lips were soft and reading you like an open book.

The only crucial detail needed, for the moment, in this closet, was that you were super into him, and he was at least entertaining it.

For minutes, he couldn't decide where, how, he wanted to hold you. His arms would trade off between pulling you against his front in a hug, so he could feel more of your body on his.

Or, he would take more of a direct route of using his hands to pull you in for kisses, by the back of the neck, with his other palm keeping you pressed hard against his thigh.

The switch would happen any time you weren't heavy enough on his leg, or when your back wasn't arched enough to stay smushed against his chest.

"M-mh-," He was rolling your hips for you, weighing you down more on his thigh, flexing it just so.

You squirmed, having to part, at his lewd sounds.

He searched for you, huffing, in the dark, "Does that feel good?"

The tone he used with you was genuine, despite how dirty the phrase felt. For a moment, he stopped rubbing you against him.

You swallowed the mixture of spit in your mouth and tried to wipe the drool off of your lips, trembling, "Y-eah, it-- it's--,"

When your hand dipped to fix the seam of your shorts, you accidentally grabbed something warm, and stiff, and just off of where he had you grinding.

"Oh-! Sorry," You retracted your hand, face radiating heat, "I'm sorry."

His chest swelled in a restrained gasp through his nose. His voice was higher, and different as he reassured you it was completely fine.

"Was- that--? Mmh--," Before you could finish your tentative question, he wrapped one arm around you, palming half ass, half hip, while the other yanked you against his torso. It seemed he had realized a good middle ground between his holds.

Another partial moan at how he was able to pull you further up -so that you were trapping his cock between your bodies- got cut off by another clumsy kiss.

He bit you, at your bottom lip, and it throbbed for the rest of the time you kissed him. It made you shove a hand down the back of his shirt, give him an otherwise embarrassing sound, that he ate right up.

What you could feel of his print throbbed against you. A weakness radiated down through your fingers and toes as you scratched lines into his bare skin. It didn't do shit. It was like he didn't even feel it.

Actually, you wanted that shirt off.

It took just three seconds of pitiful tugging for him to let off, pull it over his head with one hand, and swing it to the dusty floor. Forgotten.

He was rough when he put his hands back on you, when you returned it, tugging, wanting to be closer however possible.

"Fuck-!" You sighed, breathing hard, fast, at his busy sucking down your neck.

His nails dug into your skin, his breathing characterized by needy groans that sounded a lot like he in the middle of a workout, if anything.

Since when did he like you back? Was it just because you were available? Would he have done this with any of the girls on your team? Not that it was much of a competition- none of them thought he looked 'civilized' enough to entertain him as an option.

Your legs were jelly, your thoughts heavy, but it didn't matter.

His shoulders would stretch further with every huff, expanding and resetting, and you couldn't stop yourself from scouring every inch while he was over you. It was getting hot in here. He was getting tacky, a little slippery in some areas.

He bit you too hard in a soft spot and you cried out, barely stuffing the sound into his bare shoulder. It was loud and you both knew it was audible through the other side of the door.

Asahi slowed, as gentle as he started, again, with an apologetic hum in the crook of your neck.

"Sorry," You could hear his smile, "Too much-"

He sighed and collected his nerves for a second as he readjusted his grip on you. More palm, less fingertips. It didn't sting as much and you missed it.

He said definitively, mostly to himself, "That was too much."

"I liked it!" You reassured him quietly, palm moving from his shoulder, to his neck, to the side of his face.

"I liked it. I liked it," Got repeated, in a tiny giggle, as he stilled.

You were delivering multiple little pecks across his face, craving his intensity as soon as you lost it. You tried holding him tighter, but it wasn't the same when he wasn't pushing and pulling.

That tingly sensation of his breathy laugh, his skilled tongue, was back on your neck, closer to your ear.

You melted at once with a whimper, the need to rock your own hips short-lived because he pushed his own against your heat.

"Ahh-!"

He grinned, sucking another bit of skin in an obvious spot, "Shhh."

The heartbeat between your legs was strong. He could feel it clearly against his thigh, wishing it was better placed and put to good use.

His fingertips were digging, pushing past the waistband of your shorts, further down, palm against your tummy. Maybe it was that feeling, maybe it was your enthusiasm, or maybe the fact that you were so wet he could feel that, too, but something possessed him to start getting greedy.

But he paid for it. While you were encouraging him, a hand around his thick forearm, guiding and pushing it down, a gasp already on your breath-- you were both completely blinded.

No courtesy knock. Just a bright light and a loud screech. Asahi retracted his curious hand in a flash, but there was not much else to do to make this look less provocative.

Though the sound was higher-pitched, it was not made from anyone on your team.

Nishinoya dropped to his knees, slack-jawed, and that's all you were able to register before the door slammed shut again.

Suga scolded him from the other side, others were shushing incessantly.

"You were supposed to knock, Noya!!"

"Now Daichi's gonna wake up! Nice going, dumbass!"

It gave you both enough time to try and separate. However, without opening the door, you couldn't get fully off of one another.

You were shaking, beyond nervous, and forcefully sobered. Not exactly happy.

"Um- that was great. Thank you," It was a short, and curt, way of telling him you didn't expect much after this. You had one hand on the door.

Asahi grabbed you by the waist and dragged you back. "C'mere--,"

His rough, messy, desperate last kiss was enough to leave you dizzy. He readjusted himself during it with one last rub.

"We're not done yet," He told you. Another hasty peck to the top of your head, and he was leagues lighter in tone, "Uh, sorry- As far as I'm concerned. Do what you want, though!"

He turned the knob for you and pushed it open a crack. You stumbled out, wiping your mouth.

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco @screamin-abt-haikyuu

potential for part two but i need to refrain from making promises. lmk if you're interested and i can make a taglist if i revisit!

my masterlist. more haikyuu. my imagines. requests open.

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love u! -Your loyal Piney 💞

Evanesce

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

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

Tagging @hihomeghere because you asked ❤️

Evanesce: to dissipate like vapor

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

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

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

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

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

“Arthur, if you go I’ll–” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How much?” 

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

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

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

A brothel—a goddamn brothel. 

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

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

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

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

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

“C’mon. M’taking you home.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you still got something of mine.”

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

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

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

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

“Let go.” You hissed, seething. 

Your hand throbbed as he gave your wrist another squeeze.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yours.” He repeated assuredly, final. 

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

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

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

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

“You have to go, Arthur.”

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

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

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

“You don’t own me, Arthur Morgan!”  

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

“No, dammit, cause you own me.” 

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

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

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

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

You mumble under your breath, “Bastard.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jerk.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Say you won’t go,” he choked out. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No good, thieving, murderous bastard.” 

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

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

“I–dammit–I–kn–know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fucker,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, and you love it.” 

You couldn’t deny it.

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

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

“Shit, I’m–bout t–m’close.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[straylightdream]

red wine supernova

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: kwon soonyoung x afb.reader

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: coming soon

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞(𝐬): friends to lovers, childhood friend to lovers, romance, fluff, smut

𝐚𝐮(𝐬): nonidol, slice of life

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3k and counting

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cussing, drinking, body insecurities

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, cumplay, creampie, multiple positions, almost getting caught, nipple play, oral (both rec), p in v intercourse, soonyoung is obsessed with the mc boobs, dirty talk, teasing each other during sex, mentioning road head

nicknames: bambi, good girl, baby (hers) tiger boy, baby (his)

𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+ nsfw

𝐚𝐧: if you would like to be tagged fill out this form.

🎧: red wine supernova - chappell roan | like that - keshi | supercut - lorde | me and your together song - the 1975

-PREVIEW-

Soonyoung has been there for you through every step of life. You went to college together, and after graduating you both moved to the city. He was there for the good times and he was there for the bad moments. He was the person you called when you were happy or excited. He was also the one you called when you found out your ex was cheating on you.

No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t help but have a little crush on your goofy best friend. Even when you dated other people there was a little part of you hanging on to the idea of being with him.

It’s the night of your parent’s anniversary party. You and Soonyoung drove home together. You planned on spending the weekend in town. When your mother was telling you about her anniversary party you didn’t expect for them to squeeze over twenty people into the house.

Sitting on the back patio away from the crowd you’re sipping on your glass of red wine.

The back door slides open and Soonyoung appears holding a bottle of wine. He gives you his signature goofy smile.

“Did you steal that?” You tease.

“Absolutely not. I just took it from the cupboard.”

“Does my mom or dad know?”

“It’s hard to say.” Pulling the cork out of the bottle he pours the maroon colored liquid into the glass he brought with him. He sits down at the table next to you.

“No offense to your parents, but this party is exhausting.”

Raising your eyebrows you take a drink of your wine. “What makes you say that? Could it be the constant questions about your career? Or possibly the questions about your dating life?” You know all too well about these types of questions.

“The questions are about my job and a lot of them are about you.”

“What about me?”

He pauses and stares at you for a long moment. “You see people are wanting to know if we're, as our mothers says, finally together.”

“And what did you tell them?”

“I told them I’m still trying to convince you to fall in love with me.” You know he’s teasing you, but deep down inside you wish he wasn’t.

“You have to try a little harder to make me fall in love. Kwon Soonyoung I need to be wooed before I just fall in love.” Tilting your glass back you chug the remaining amount. Without even saying anything Soonyoung fills your glass with the wine he’d stolen.

“You know for once they have left us alone.” He says as he sets the bottle back down on the table.

“I don’t think anyone has ever wanted us together more than our mothers.” Your mother never misses an opportunity to tell you what a perfect match for you Soonyoung is.

“You know if they walked in on us in bed they might cry tears of joy.” He laughs.

“That’s gross.” You instantly frown, rolling your eyes.

“Which part?”

“What?”

“Which part, the idea of being with me or being walked in on by our mothers?”

You take a sip of your wine keeping your eyes locked in him. “The idea of being in bed with you doesn’t sound bad.”

[snowluvvie]

strawberry shortcake 🍓

Rodrick <33

₊˚⊹ ♡. Rodrick Heffley is certainly not a planner, he never has been. He spends plenty of time agonizing over how exactly he's gonna blow your socks off on the big day, but when he's ready to start planning, he realizes that it's two days away. He scrapes together the couple bucks in his wallet, some change from his dorm room couch (and you're 99% sure he took some money from Greg's piggy bank,) to present you on Valentine's Day with a grand total of: a beanie-baby stuffed animal, a box of candy hearts, a mostly-crushed bouquet of flowers from the gas station, and a hand-burned CD with the title "jams 4 hot gf" scrawled across the front in his inexcusably terrible handwriting. He's basically grinding his toe into the dirt all shy-like when he gives them to you, giving you a classic "I know it's not much, but—" though you cut him off by throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him so hard he makes an oof noise, the wind knocked out of him.

The two of you make an appearance at your favorite date spot—an extremely sketchy, extremely sticky bowling alley where three of the lanes are perpetually closed, and the lights in the attached arcade flicker ominously. Your squeals and his laughter echo off the wood-paneled walls, and for your whole game (him appearing on the scoreboard as RODPRICK and you as THE BABE,) it feels like you're the only two people on the whole planet. Rodrick insists on winning you a stuffed animal from the claw machine, and you put on an oscar-winning performance of being equally as excited every time he tries, and equally as shocked and disappointed every time it slips from the metal grasp. You rub his back consolingly as you walk away once his pockets are officially empty, and he slings an arm over your shoulders as he mutters, "at least you got the beanie baby" with a defeated shake of his head.

You almost let out a little sniffle at the card he gives you (it takes you a couple tries to read it cause good lord, his handwriting really is awful,) which says "ur way too cool and hot and smart for me, but i'm glad u haven't realized that yet. happy valentine's day babe :)" accompanied by the worst drawing of you two as stick figures you've ever seen. He even plays you an extremely sincere but terribly loud love song on the drum set in the communal music room, and the two of you get promptly kicked out halfway through. Ending the day with your face buried in his hoodie, watching some stupid movie, the whole day having cost probably $30 total, you hum against his lips when he kisses you and think about how it was kind of the best day you've ever had. Sure, it made it glaringly obvious that Rodrick Heffley is a total disaster—but c'mon, he's your disaster.

[hopefully-helpful-daemon]

I've been doing nothing but playing Marvel rivals for weeks now, so I thought I'd do the Batboy's (and co) mains!

Dick is Black Panther. The worst (in a good way) Panther main you'll ever meet. He takes out the enemy supports so fast that you'd think he was cheating. He gets yelled at by the enemy team every game he plays. He does get target banned in higher ranks, but that doesn’t stop him, he's just as good on Spiderman

Cassandra plays vanguards and only vanguards. She'll play whichever one they need in that game, but has the most time on Hulk and Doctor Strange. When asked why she doesn't switch, she said that she doesn't take up a lot of space irl, so she likes being the one to protect people in the game :)

Jason is either Punisher or Bucky. He will not switch, and to be fair, he's so good with them that he doesn't need to. That doesn't stop the rest of the fam from dragging his ass with how much they make fun of him. Real creative, playing a superhero game and picking the ones that have guns.

Tim will switch depending on what they need. He has Lord on so many characters that they start questioning if he's blowing off hero work to play. He likes playing Magik the most, but if the other team is triple healer, then he'll switch to Psylocke and absolutely demolish them. He's the dude that switched characters 12 times but still had the most kills and lest deaths.

Damian tried to play Hela his first game, realized that none of the others were playing strategists, and hasn’t switched from them since. Mantis is his best, he's insane on her and is somehow always keeping the others healed still.

Steph is a Moonknight truther through and through. Yes she's sitting in a corner shooting her ankhs, it's part of his kit! That's how he's supposed to be used! She isn't useless on him and doesn't need her ankhs to do damage, but she'll still be using them thank you very much!

They have not, and will not, convince Babs to play with them. She was an Overwatch playing for a time, broke three computers and 7 keyboards. She knows how a game like that will end for her and she's not doing it again.

Harper is a Hela main. She ends most matches with 0 deaths and almost double the kills of the next best on her team. No one knows where she's at during the game but she's terrifying and they’ve seen people actually run from her before. they banned her and Dick playing together after the first time when all of the enemy team left on second point.

They try and get Bruce to play with them, but he tells them that he's not good at the game. This is a dirty lie and he holds the highest rank in the family. He just finds it embarrassing to play with them because he gets really into the game and has said shit on vc before that he'd never want his children to hear. The day he got put on the enemy team as some of his kids was the best day of his life (B won but it was a tight match)

[meritski]

will wait 'til i wilt • wanderer x gn!reader

warnings: hanahaki disease, mentions of blood, hurt no comfort

You didn’t know what was so special about him. (That’s a lie, I am afraid.)

His tongue was sharp, on second thought, it wasn’t only that. His eyes, his expressions— everything about him and he, himself, was like a blade; often resulting in a cut wound in a delicate heart. (Not his heart though, he possessed no such thing.)

He didn’t like others, building a wall between everyone and him, except for the Dendro Archon— Lesser Lord Kusanali. Certainly an odd dynamic, well, who are you to judge? 

He was also not around much. It should have been a good thing, considering the bad traits he had— which were a lot.

It wasn’t, not for you. 

Because you didn’t think he was that bad in the first place. Okay, maybe he did say hurtful things or rolled his eyes at you with such offense that you cried a lot that night but there were things that made up for it. Moments where his words softened. Moments where his looks softened. Moments where he softened, even just a little bit. 

The moments you held so dear. The moments that were so special about him.

That was why your gaze always sought him out. Your voice got a little bit louder when he was near— begging to be noticed even for a mere second. When paired on a project together, you read his part twice— maybe thrice. Wanting to understand the words he chose more than others, wanting to understand him more than others. 

You wanted to be special to him, just as he was to you. You wouldn’t mind even if you gave more than you received— As long as the feelings you had for him were reciprocated.

It wasn’t.

Your breath hitched, and a lump settled into its place on your throat where the garden of love was placed. Looking at the petals, all bloody and torn, you let the statement sink in. 

It wasn’t, it seems like his love was not meant for you.

The metallic taste of blood and the freshness of flowers. Ah, was that what longing tasted like? The smell was melancholic yet fragrant. A sweet and cruel contradiction. 

Were they wiltering from the love you had for a certain wanderer?

Maybe they were.

Not like you were any different.

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ notes!

☆ just a thought that came to my mind at 3 am pt.2

☆ this was on my drafts for a while, hehe 2 days, and my original plan was to make it longer (i failed </3) so yes, you guessed it right, it might also get rewritten!

☆ i like hanahaki related works so much, this was an attempt to write something about it so i hope i didn't disappoint much AGJDJHDH