#limerence and lust

[bedupolker]

Limerence & Lust: Part 2.5: Limerence & Lust get divorced

Part 0

Part 1

Part 2

Part 2.5 (here)

[thepeaceunknown]

We might be two horrible people and our consequence is each other.

[pornogrindprincess]

I’ll know I’ll never be the prettiest woman he’s had ...and really, I don’t want that. I want to be the most tormenting. Disturbing him with wit and forcing smiles so violent they leave his face sore. I want to be the one that ripped the death straight from his chest. The one that got him addicted to scents of plum and the feel of pomegranate lipgloss gliding his skin. The one he imagines when he yearns for feminine release and to be relieved from marginalized masculinity. I want to be the seductive phantom haunting the corners of his bedroom when he’s cold with grief. The one that gave him the most romance, moments of irrationality, passion, strange strange urges, and life.

[stacys-mom-has-got-it-goin-on]

I love the movie but the one thing that bothers me is the parents. They knew a man who was a decade older than their daughter was interested in her. Why didn't they stop him? Why didn't they try harder? Why did they let their daughter go? Why didn't they try to set her straight and educate her on the importance of appropriate relationships with boys closer to her age? Why did they allow -no- encourage their daughter to get caught up in her immature school girl puppy love starstruck infatuation with an older rockstar?

[lntrusiveknock]

i just pray lol that she has never entertained jealousy of me for too long (if she ever has) because she is so beautiful and a girl like her deserves to think that shes the prettiest she and anyone has ever known because she truly is and i love her too

[beautifulprincessdsorder]

leaching from my soul like an addiction

[bedupolker]

Limerence & Lust: Part 2, Limerence and Lust practice self care

Part 0

Part 1

Part 2.5

[spoonful116]

Love is in the air... or is it?

[vimbry]

Dean Olsher: John Linnell, of They Might Be Giants - good luck, you need it.

JL: yes, sir! absolutely.

(cut)

Dean Olsher: John Linnell, of They Might Be Giants.

JL: yes, sir.

(cut)

Dean Olsher: John, what does "limerent" mean?

JL: "the state of being infatuated or obsessed with another person, typically involuntarily, characterized by a strong desire for reciprocation of one's feelings, but not primarily a sexual relationship".

Dean Olsher: right. so, John.

JL: sir.

why does linnell keep calling one of the radio hosts in the show where they challenged him to write "contrecoup" sir like that

[nymphia-tarot]

Your first date with them 🌸 [PAC]

pile 1 ----> pile 2

pile 3 ----> pile 4

Paid readings ($2.99)

🌸 meditate on the pics and pick whichever one calls to you the most. you might feel drawn to more than one pile, which means you may have messages in other piles for you as well! if you don't feel particularly drawn to any pile, the messages in this reading might not be intended for you. since this is a general reading, take what resonates! 🌸

🌸 Pile 1:

I'm getting that this date is something that was a long-awaited thing. Like you or your person might have been planning or dreaming of this for quite a while. You might have met this person at a very crucial time of your life, almost as if the stars aligned perfectly at that moment, and they've been fairly impactful to you. Maybe you met them at school/uni or somewhere relevant to your educational field. This is a person that has been overall pretty important to you in your life, for maybe some sort of karmic lesson, and your connection has been fated to occur.

Pile 1, this is someone you're carefully considering as a serious option. And I feel like the date is a way for you to determine the course of your future with them. A lot of individuals who picked this pile are independent thinkers with a discerning judgement on people. Lots of sapiosexuals too. You want someone to match you at your level and it seems like the date between you two will be a very stimulating experience. The two of you will have a lot of deep conversations and get to know each other better at an intellectual and philosophical level.

There's a good chance of this relationship ending up in marriage for a lot of you. A proposal or offer from your partner. However, I feel like the future of the relationship isn't really that good? Like you're both very fine people but after a while the initial passion and spark would just die down, making the relationship feel very stagnant. Some of you might even stay and do your best to make it work even though it really isn't working. I'm also getting the possibility of cheating for some? If the worst happens, I feel like the best thing to do is to let go and give yourself freedom.

🌸 Pile 2:

Maybe a lot of yall in pile 2 have a tendency to get lowkey delusional when it comes to matters of love. Like getting infatuated and idealising the other party, mostly living in fantasy and maybe you guys read way too much love tarot. I'm seeing a lot of you guys won't really go in with a clear head for this date overall. Hampered intuition, reading too much into lines, limerence, etc. When you actually do get to date your person I'm seeing that it'll finally ground you and make you see them for who they really are and evaluate your own feelings and the future of this relationship from a more realistic lens.

Maybe a lot of you guys' partner here is rich or at least financially stable or abundant. They may even have generational wealth. You guys are going to get spoilt on your date though. Lavished materially, lowkey sugar daddy/mommy vibes, etc. You guys might go to a really fancy place and enjoy a luxurious date with them. However, there's a chance there's a sort of power imbalance in the end, like maybe they're someone who is on a more powerful position systematically or in any other way, they have power over you. I'm getting it's mostly financially though for most of you guys.

Overall, you might end up feeling disillusioned from your previous notions and expectations in this date and they might feel restricted or caged in some way by how you view them. It's like they'll realise that the idea you have of them in your mind does not represent who they are. You might even end up having conflicting views/mentalities.

🌸 Pile 3:

I feel like this is a connection thats mostly fueled by physical attraction/lust which is passionate, fiery and can be all-consuming. You might have been in a bit of a slump before the date occurs and I'm getting that one or both you felt unfulfilled by the current situation of your relationship/where you stand with each other. Maybe the relationship you guys have is something that's a bit unconventional so it can get tough.

It seems like the date will end up in heartbreak for one or both you in some way. I'm getting a serious breach of trust and breaking a promise or vow you had made to each other. It can either end in a break up or continuing to nurture a tattered/unfulfilling relationship. For most of you the one who betrayed the other is your partner in this relationship. Maybe you've wanted to be official with them for a while only to have the devastating realisation that it's not feasible to happen.

After this date, your feelings for your person might dull down or even fade completely. You might get your joys shattered and end up deciding that happiness for you doesn't lie here. As for your person, I'm ngl they seem very physically-driven. They might be trapping you in some way in this relationship in a way that isn't healthy. Like, even if you're unhappy, your person doesn't see it and continues to thrive and take and take while keeping you constrained, not letting you break free of unhealthy cycles. Their feelings for you are mostly lust.

🌸 Pile 4:

The dynamic/relationship between you two might be kinda slow-moving and the lowkey. Maybe you both took a long time to ask each other out finally and was in a sort of stalemate before deciding to go "screw it, you only live once" and shooting your shots. Since it feels like something that happens more haphazardly and on impulse, the date might be slightly awkward for you guys. One or both of you may stumble over your words a lot or kinda not know what to do. This feels kinda frustrating yet adorable from an outside perspective and there might be a lot of internal cursing involved lol.

However, once you actually get through it, you'll realise it really wasn't that bad and overall end up quite fulfilled and happy. At the end, the date might actually go pretty well despite the initial awkwardness once you get the hang of it. If you guys do continue with your relationship, it might actually lead to a lot of growth and development for both of you. I'm also sensing that there's a lot of travel involved? Maybe you guys are from different cultures or cities, etc.

You might be the more composed and rational one during this date and be lowkey analysing everything. Virgo vibes. You might end up intimidating your person a bit lol. Your person on the other hand is full of anxiety and nervousness and it might be more visible on their end lol.

[titania-sleeps]

Samyaza (Angel!Yandere x Nun!Reader)

i'm here to drop another Mikhael fic cause he misses you guys a lot

other works including Mikhael: mikhael introduction, coup de grace (your pov), coup de grace (his pov)

warning: nsfw, dom reader (implied afab bc pussy), manwhore :3, cunnilingus, amateur seduction from an angel, minors DNI pls

Mikhael waits in your desolate room. Winter comes, so you keep your window closed, but a mellow draft still flows into the room. You keep a single lily in a clear vase for him.

He sits on your bed, the bedsheets crinkling beneath his weight. He can feel the physical world respond to his metaphysical body, and he knows that he is not far from falling from grace. But he doesn't hate it, and instead relishes in the idea that he can become humanly yours. Perhaps the two of you can escape the convent and perform a marriage of your souls.

He doesn't linger on his thoughts for too long, glancing at the setting sun. The sun sets early and with the sun, you return earlier than usual. Fittingly so, as you seem to be the only light in his life.

An idea emerges in his mind, a devious smile crafted on his face. Were the Watchers to see him now, they would surely be proud of him.

He strips off the outer layer of his robes, leaving only his undergarments on. Pausing, he takes a look in your mirror, smiling softly at his own vessel. This body of his was nurtured by his love for you, his physical appendages brought forth in blood and flesh only by your existence. In a way, he was made only for you.

He hears your footsteps trudging down the hallway. He settles himself nicely on your bed in haste, making it just in time as the door opens.

"Welcome back, beloved."

You stare at him blankly. Then a whoosh.

You find yourself fallen on the bed, your body leering over Mikhael's. He blushes, but the sly smile on his face tells you everything.

"How bold..." he whispers with his peachy lips. His eyelashes flutter, though air and time are still, and snakes his arms around your waist. He tilts his neck teasingly, baring his collarbone to you. Welcoming you, even.

You raise an eyebrow. "Are you not a son of the holy Lord?" you ask, pushing away from him.

Pouting, he sits up and sidles closer to you. He presses against you precariously, letting his inner robe slip so his nipples peak through.

"And you, too, are a child of Him, yet why do I sense your arousal?" he quips back. He is a breath away from your face, his whispers fanning your lips. You notice his shallow breathing and the pink that dusts his face.

You peek into his topaz eyes. They are clouded in need and lust, a look unfitting for an angel. But his stare pierces into you, as divine revelations penetrate the minds of great prophets.

"Let us not entertain this for much longer," you respond promptly, backing away. A smile curves onto your face, both tempting and cocky.

He groans, pulling you closer. His nose nudges itself to your neck, breathing in your scent. Grabbing your hand, he places it on his bulge. Tongue darting out, he sneaks a taste of you.

"And if I want to?" mumbles Mikhael, clumsily bucking into your hand.

You retract your hand, an epiphany coming to you. Sitting up straight, you point at the floor. Confused but eager, he follows your hand and sits on the hardwood ground, head looking up.

You strip from your robe, only your under-gown remaining. You slip the skirt up, your legs crossed. Your fingers lithely lift up his chin, the moon reflected in his gaze. "Please me, and I might devour you in return."

He doesn't need to be told much more. He begins with a kiss on your toe, eyes closed, leaving a mark of obeisance and reverential adoration. Then, his eyelids lifting slowly, a careful kiss to your ankle, the anchor that grounds you. He trails up slowly; a kiss to your calf, a kiss to your knee. He leaves bites of love and limerence on your thighs. As he approaches your core, you open, granting him entrance.

"You're..." he exhales, staring at the wet folds of your pussy. His own cock throbs, the musky scent of sex wafting to his nose.

"I'm?" You spread your legs a little wider.

"Breathtaking," he finishes, his nose nudging against your opening. Cautiously, he kisses your outer fold. You shiver in response, instilling him with more confidence. He presses a kiss deeper, his tongue stretching out to sample your taste.

You leave a shaky exhale, almost frustrated by how slow he's taking it. You use one of your free feet to rest leisurely on his cock. He jolts in surprise, a surprised moan escaping his throat. The vibration of his moan has you suppressing your own moan.

"Feast," you demand, your toes sneaking beneath his robes and wrapping around his head. His muffled moans and frantic nods bring you a foreign joy.

His tongue darts in and out of your opening, hands gripped tightly on your thighs. He exits, mouth slick with your juices, and drags his tongue from the bottom of your entrance to your clit. His mouth gently places a kiss on your bud, and then his tongue comes to claim the lord of your pleasure. It wraps around your clit, drawing circles and spirals around it.

You moan, toes curling on his dick. Your hands find their way to his hair, pulling and pressing lightly. He continues his ministrations, moving a hand to press a finger to your dripping entrance.

"You're not doing bad for an angel," you say, feet stepping on his wet head. You massage his cock, pushing with little pressure. The feeling of your feet on his cock and his dick pressing against his stomach stirs him.

"It's simple when you taste divine," he mutters in between licks and suckling. You grind gently against his tongue, feeling yourself approaching climax.

"Hurry now," you breathily say, hands on his head gripping tight. With a tug or two to his hair, he quickens his pace. Oh, but you didn't want him to quicken; you wanted him to taste you fully.

You grab him and push him against your folds, urging his tongue to reach deep inside of you. His moans vibrate against you as he relents to you, submitting to your control. Your body is the bread that feeds him and your essence is the wine that quenches his thirst; his cock throbs dangerously as he feels your thighs wrap around his head, almost suffocating him.

You moan and thrust into his face, his tongue trying to keep up with you. Your hips stutter as you feel yourself closer and closer. Your head is thrown back as you cum, his face still pressed tightly against your pussy.

As you are cumming, his eyes turn up to stare at you, full of pure adoration and veneration. The moonlight stains your body with a holy glow, your sweat gleaming like dewdrops after a cleansing rain. The sight brings him to his completion as he moans and convulses in pleasure, his cock shooting globs of semen onto the floor.

He lets you ride out your climax before separating from you and looking up at you, his face wet with your juices. You admire your work on him, breaths still heavy. The two of you share a smile, a secret for only a god and their most devoted follower.

He leans down, placing another kiss to your feet. His heart and body are wholly yours, and with that, his faith. A perverse love turned holy, as his god—you—wills it.

loose references here and there, ty for reading!!

-> masterlist

[lesinquietes]

In which Alucard and his Deity!Darling are on a mission together, and he loses control when she gives him a glimpse of submission🪽✨

18+ (minors dni) // light almost-smut, yandere

Limerence

Alucard pins you beneath him, catching you by surprise. He clutches your wrists with rough claws. When you fall, it’s behind a set of bushes. Before you can sputter and protest, airships, no doubt seeking Hellsing presence, whizz by above you. Their bright search lights are fixed on the path you were once walking. If you would have stayed there, they would have caught you. Given the urgency of your matter, that wouldn’t have been preferable; there’s no telling how many soldiers they would have sent.

Gathered in such an intimate position, he’s shocked you’re not fighting him. He supposes you’ve learned to pick your poison. He doesn’t mean any harm to you… yet.

He waits for you to ask him to get up. You don’t. The ships have long passed. He wonders if you’re simply frozen with anticipation. He knows what that’s like, to be tantalized by the moment.

“That was close.” You mutter eventually. “They’re getting more desperate.”

“They are.” He agrees grimly. “Their interference would have been a nuisance.”

His piercing orbs trace your jawline, watching as you swallow whatever else you wanted to say. Such a pretty throat you have. The blood there is celestial. He’s never tasted the nectar of a deity before. He wonders if it’s toxic to a creature like him. If so, then maybe he was meant to perish like this, at your whim; maybe you were meant to die together.

He refuses to allow his impulses to overwhelm him. You’ve been warming up to him lately. While your edges remain quite sharp, they’ve significantly softened since your first encounter. Without the proper signals, he won’t completely cross your boundaries.

Meanwhile, you adjust beneath him. Inspecting his pale face, you think he’s rather handsome. In the moonlight, even more so. His glasses are off, revealing irises with subliminal messaging, coaxing you to submit. You huff. Vampires are a cocky breed. You’ve encounter his kind in the past. They were the same as him — snarky and sure of themselves… until they weren’t.

You’ll show him. He may be the father of all vampires, but you’re certain you’ve handled worse threats. Contrary to what he might believe, you’re not one to be dominated.

“I could have handled myself.” You whisper, eyes peering into his. “But… thank you.”

He pauses. Your energy is shifting. You’re receptive to him. After endless nights of watching over you, having you grow used to his presence, ensuring that you miss him when he’s not around — are you finally ready?

“You could have handled yourself.” The vampire echoes. “Is that why I was the one to act?”

He dips down, smooth black locks tickling your face. Brazenly, his lips brush against yours. He closes his eyes for the serene moment, taking you in. He’s amused that you don’t pull away. Yes, perhaps you want this, too.

“My sweet Goddess.” He purrs. “Have I not shown you that I’m capable of protecting you?”

You stir restlessly. He notices your thighs rubbing together, unconsciously creating friction in your lower region. You don’t seem to have any control over your physical form. Humanistic sensations are afflicting you. Lust is meant to be a foreign concept to higher beings, isn’t it? You’re reaching for a forbidden fruit.

“You… have done your best.” You admit, frowning gently. “I thanked you, didn’t I?”

“Thanked me!” He scoffs incredulously, planting a ginger kiss to your jaw. “The woman of my deepest fixations need not give me gratitude; she need only give me a fair chance.”

He indulges in your beauty, trying with every fibre of his undead being to avoid stealing a glance at your neck. His mood is different than it was a moment earlier. He wants to feed on you while he fucks you. The urge is damn near unable to be repressed.

“I want to claim you.” He confesses, voice husky and baritone. “But… I shouldn’t.”

He tries to believe what he says. He really, really does. Except he can see the panic rising on your features, and it’s driving his animalistic senses up the wall. It’s the first glimpse of your anxiety. You, a gorgeous creature, trusted a starving vampire to get this close to you.

The vulnerability you’re exuding is intoxicating. It’s making his head spin. He inhales your natural scent. His long tongue flickers out to lap upthe subtle layer of sweat on your quivering throat. That’s enough deliberation. That’s enough abstaining. He’s going to do it. He can’t stop himself.

Maybe you really are a witch, casting spells to lower his locus of control so you can vanquish him when he’s preoccupied. He chuckles darkly. That would be fun. He’s always preferred a mate he can play with prior to totally dominating them.

“My dear… you’re irresistible.”

Alucard’s fangs protrude, and he gradually sinks down to the area above your collarbone. Softly, you moan. He hums approvingly when you bear your neck for him. His mesmerizing orbs become predatorial. He’s dreamt of this moment. He going to guide you into the afterlife with him, and make you his first wife in decades.

At the last second, the tides shift.

From the heavens, a ray of light rains down on him. He notices a second too late. By the time he retracts, and leaps back from you, one of his long legs is trapped in the beam. It severs instantly. Although he doesn’t feel it, there’s a humiliation to the act which causes him to howl.

He skids to one knee and bares his teeth. With a gloved hand, he wipes the drool that dropped from the side of his mouth — evidence of his lust for you. He’s speechless. Rage and vigour twist in his chest.

You’re hovering a few inches above the ground. A bright light pours out of your eye sockets and mouth. You’re grinning at him.

“You didn’t actually think I’d willingly let you turn me, did you?” You snicker cruelly. “Foolish Dracula.”

He growls lowly. You know what it does to him when he hears you utter his name — his true alias from days of old.

“Tempting little witch.” He snarls, fangs protruding from his ajar mouth. “Why do you give me the illusion of possessing you, as if I have not spent countless nights resting on your limerence?”

He lost sight of himself. His safety ought to override his impulses. But in that moment, when he saw how submissive you — a powerful Goddess — were being to his touch, he was a slave to desire. You could have killed him with your offensive light. That excites him. You really are capable of eviscerating Anderson, aren’t you?

You return to the ground. The whiteness beaming from your eyes and mouth also tapers off. You’re back to how he recognizes you in no time, except the smirk hasn’t left your features.

“Can I rely on you to keep your mind on the mission, thirsty corpse?”

He wonders what it would be like to overpower you now. You wouldn’t let him win easily. In fact, he doesn’t know the extent of your strength just yet. You stand a good chance of destroying him. He’ll have to be patient if he wants a shot at obtaining you.

He’s coming around to the idea that it wasn’t the time to turn you. Integra would have been pissed. She was lenient when he turned Seras, but you? And in the middle of a crucial expedition, no less? She wouldn’t have shown him mercy this time. But… part of him doesn’t care; part of him — a deep, hushed voice at the back of his mind — urges him to do it anyways, that a mighty king is more than deserving of an all-powerful queen. It’s you who incites the covetous side of him.

“You can.” Alucard snickers humourlessly. “Until our work together is complete.”

Previous l

[fazedlight]

But then Caitlyn was next to her - smirking and cocky, catching Vi before she could sink fully into the misery of having lost everyone again. Her sister was gone, and no doubt the leader of Piltover would have no kindness for Vi’s betrayal. And yet the lilt in Caitlyn’s voice suggested something different. “I’m sorry to say, you’ve become a bit predictable.” The truth snapped into her. Vi was hardly thinking when she pulled Cait in for a kiss, rough and forceful as their lips met. She could feel the hammer of her heartbeat as Cait pulled her in - suddenly frazzled and desperate in her attempt to return the kiss. It put a roar in Vi’s chest, to catch Cait so off guard, to feel her begin to succumb to the unexpected magnetic force between them. Limerence and lust, as Vi kissed along her neck, tasting smooth skin with the drumming of the vein underneath-

When the Fog Lifts is on AO3.

[lntrusiveknock]

if the world was ending, i wanna be next to you

[strawberrysnoopy]

ACT ONE: The Photoshoot, Part Three of Four

prologue, part one, part two. warnings: tobacco, smoking, alcohol use, briefest mention of using alcohol as a coping mechanism, mentions of infidelity (as always), ada slander at times (sorry), texting for a while, leon's a bit of a perv,

author's note: btw I left the husband without a name so there's no overlap on you and your husband having the same name and you live in new york due to the modeling thing. I also try my hardest to keep the reader ambiguous because I realize that skinny, quirky, white girls aren't the only ones that read this series: if there's anything you'd like to recommend or change in the writing to be more reader-friendly, drop in my inbox and let me know! :) thank you guys so much for all the reblogs and 100 FOLLOWERS AHHH!! thank you thank you thank you!

The warmth of your fingers working against his cool and paled skin had him melting like a runny ice cream cone in your hands. His hand was on your hip, rubbing loving circles like he was trying to commit the warm feel of your flesh into his memory. This was the type of life he envisioned when he was younger: married to someone he loved deeply with every crevice of his being. He thought Ada was the person for him, but that was such a costly and emotionally unbalanced guess. "Thank you, honey." You nod in response, applying the rest of the stitching to his busted lip. His hands dare to move a little higher on your hips, squeezing your waist and getting some sick pleasure out of the way your breath stopped in embarrassment. The scene was perfect, just a good ol’ friend taking care of her busted up pal. Leon hated that he couldn’t find you earlier, sooner, before he could even lay eyes on Ada Wong. She had her charms, sure, but there was something about the soft lull of your presence, how gentle you were, how caring you could be with others that had his heart fluttering in his chest. He still can't believe out of all the places he could've met you, it was at a store while you were buying a bottle of wine for yourself and your husband. "Met" would have to be an overrated word in his dictionary. The truth was that Leon had first laid eyes upon you in a magazine. They had released their February shoot that show-cased entrepreneurial photographers on the rise, climbing their way to the top without a care in the world who they scratched on their way there. You happened to be the diamond in the rough, making everyone else's cliche photographs of "lust" or "revenge" or "innocence" themes seem drab. Your theme? Limerence. Beautiful, simmering, and chilling limerence. Your hair was pieced together lazily but curled neatly, wearing simple yet cryptic tops and little boy shorts that lovingly cradled your ass. The rookie photographer that snapped your photos had done a stellar job at making it seem like you were one of those once in a lifetime girls you met in college. He still had the magazine of course, stashed away in the depths of his closet: kept in pristine condition like a filthy little secret he loved to indulge in. "So..." He muses. He feels the little pause in your work, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "How long have you known? About your husband's infidelity?" You've always known. The first? A college girl in the first year of your "official" relationship Bubbly and vibrant and a fucking joy to be around. The kind of girl you see on ABC's 20/20 or some other type of true crime prime-time film. Your husband claimed it was a drunk hook-up. And the first time, you believed him. The second? A school teacher that looked, acted, and talked exactly like you. Maybe she was your long lost twin or some weird rip in the fabric of time and she happened to pop out. He claimed he was mad at you for the way you did laundry. You forgave him a second time, but you'd surely have a knife to his throat the third time.

"A while. It's just like some weird fact I live with, I guess. Like you have some chronic disease and it's something you deal with from time to time." He nodded, bringing your hand up to his mouth and pressing a soft kiss to your palm. He knows you don't deserve that. Nobody deserves that. Yet, he always wondered why you stayed. Your husband was an asshole, although that shouldn't be a term that leaves his lips due to the fact he's supposedly your husband's best bud, but for the sake of doing the holy honor of defending you: he was a cheating dick that didn't deserve to be maritally bound to a woman such as yourself. "Wouldn't you get a divorce? I don't mean to be like...rude or anything but I would've thought that you're the type of woman to leave his ass once he cheats." And you were. Headstrong, confident, and self-assured—he's never seen an insecure model before, or maybe that's some weird stereotype he's made in his head unconsciously. "It's a tough situation." And that's all you have to say about your marriage. He nodded, understanding your reluctance to speak on the subject. He can't say he's any different from you either considering his marriage to Ada, the very reason he can't be with you. Especially so intimately. It’s hard. The safety of it all. Having someone next to you at all times despite the shitty relationship. He knew.

Now the bathroom is silent. You’re still doctoring up his wounds while he sits up on the marble counter-top. He really wants to say something until you step in for him.

“I can’t believe you fucked my husband up like that.” You say, pulling your hands away from his face to find some more antibiotic cream. He hates that he feels his head moving forward to get your hands back on him. Pathetic. He feels pathetic, especially considering he beat the dog shit out of your husband when you graciously invited him into your home.

“I’m sorry—“ He begins, you stop him once more.

“No. Don’t apologize. I was thanking you.” He nods again, finding the motion of moving his head back and forth too repetitive. “So, thank you.”

He boldly takes your hand in his own, squeezing it and kissing the palm—feeling like he’s turning into a crazy man when your fingertips brush against his lower eyelids and cheeks.

“You’re welcome.” He releases your hand from his own, feeling guilty for not saying more to you. He feels as if you deserve more than silence, and to be honest, with everything you've gone through this week, you definitely do. "I know I said it already but I'm sorry for saying that I wanted to—" He pauses, not wanting to be so crude with his wording but throwing caution to the wind as he had already fucked everything up so far. "Said that I wanted to fuck you, that's not fair to you nor your husband."

"It's okay if you do." His heart pulses in his chest at those words. He had expected you to ignore it, maybe slap him if you were really pissed. But you agreed? What the fuck, it's like he's living in a fucking alternate universe. "It's not a crime to find someone else attractive. The only thing wrong is if you act on it." That was true, but it never took from how much he dreamed about you. The times he's jerked himself off while thinking of your gorgeous body on his mind had grown to a disgusting amount. Hell, it's gotten to a point where he doesn't even fight it anymore and Ada being in the house used to stop him, but not anymore. He'll just go up to the bathroom and rub one out with your magazine in hand. "Then I guess I'm attracted to you." Your cheeks flush red at the admission, flaring a brighter color when his hand grips your hip once more. And tighter, too. Jesus Christ, the way this whole situation had been playing out like a steamy porno. First, your husband was gone in the hospital. Second, Leon was brought into your home. Alone. Third, he admitted he wants to fuck you. No, he has to resist. You were right. It's not wrong to be attracted to someone other than your spouse but you had him wanting to act. Wanting to drag you down to the marital bed you share with your husband and fuck you senseless. "So, do you want to stay the night tonight? Considering your car is broken down and everything." You ask, your tone beautiful and raspy like it always is.

Oh, God. He's gonna fuck you.

tags:@heylesamis, @sweetserial, @iloveyousomuch1989, @galactict3a, @m1sery-busin3ss, @ssulfurr, @julia13123, @nic-stars, @stillhavingdaddyissues, @greywardensaywhat, @ressespearlz, @xqlenkdy, @g0rep1ty, @nomorekerkanymor,

[glisten-inthedark]

Why it wouldn't make any sense for Byler not to be endgame (Applying only logic to the equation)

Ok, I know that some people might be concerned and I won't sit around and pretend that I'm not. I will, however, point towards a few things that, to me, would mean that everyone in that writers room had terrible lapses in judgment if they ended up not making Byler canon so buckle up because this will be a long post.

Will's misbilief and how he believes he will never find love.

At one point, Will claims he will never fall in love but we'd later learn that surprise surprise, we can't control our hearts.

But it's not that Will assumes he won't find love, it's that he assumes he's not worthy of it. He stated that he sometimes feels like he's a mistake, and that the only person that makes him feel like he isn't is Mike.

So the subtext that we have is that he doesn't believe he'll have a happy ending, he doesn't believe he'll get to find love and be happy. So say the Duffers decide that Byler won't be endgame, what exactly was the purpose of this entire plot line? Torture a kid some more?

Like seriously, he's been through so much already, why do this?

Because doing gives Will, the character we're supposed to root for, a depressing ending. A ending that tells him: you'll never be happy, you're doomed to be forever in love with someone that will never love you back. You don't get your happy ending, you don't get to have what you want.

But not only that, this would be the message the show would be sending the viewers: So one of characters has been through the ringer, has foud out he's gay but oh sorry, he will never be in a happy relationship or find that actually he can be happy. And that's it folks, thanks for watching our show.

2. What Will wants and needs.

I noticed there's this tendency of people downplaying Will's love towards Mike. Maybe because he's young and we have the tendency to assume that the feelings with have around that age aren't lasting, or maybe it's something else, however we need to point out the fact that Will loves Mike Wheeler.

This isn't a crush, this isn't limerence or lust. No, this is love. The writers made a point of showing us that Will loves Mike truly and selflessly. They made a point of showing us that Will already assumes his feelings are and will always be unrequited, so what he wants/what he needs it's to have Mike back in his life.

He was willing to push Mike towards El out of love for him and for her, because he wants Mike to be happy and he doesn't think he could ever give him that, nor does he think Mike wants Will to be the person who gives him that.

The writers showed, through their writing, that Will's feelings are real, are everlasting and unshakable. That Will himself doesn't think he'll ever get over Mike (El - I - Need you and she (I) always will).

So whether you like it or not, Mike is the love of Will's love. So if the writers present some random person as the love interest (which they could've easily done considering they gave us Argyle and the fact Will was in California which is far more accepting than Indiana) it's never going to be enough, because that's not who Will truly loves.

So again, it would send the message that he'll never be truly happy, because the person that makes him the happiest wouldn't be by his side.

3. We have no actual clue about what's happening to Mike

We can chalk it up to lazy writing, or to a character that's all over the place, or maybe, just maybe, to a Mike Wheeler that is complex, that has layers and dimensions.

I don't think it's a coincidence there has been a shift in Mike in the last 2 seasons, because if you pay attention, we have nothing of his inner thoughts. The entire focus of his character has been about El, and maybe that's no accident.

Maybe we don't know what's going on because he's hiding something? And whenever we are presented with facts about him, we don't have all the information.

I already talked about how Mike focusing on El makes sense, because when Will disappeared Mike had to deal with a lot and when Will got back, all these things he buried tried to get back to the surface.

People seem to have a hard time understanding Mike, or acting under the guise he doesn't care about Will or that Will deserves better or seem to think the writers dropped the ball on his character, but maybe there's a reason?

Maybe Mike is a lot harder to grasp? Maybe he's the boy who watched his best friend bike away and not come back? Maybe he's the boy who thought his friend was dead (even for a while).

Perhaps he's the kid who so desperately needed to protect and shield and comfort his friend because nothing in the world was right if his friend was hurting?

Maybe Mike is the boy who doesn't really feels what he should for his girlfriend? Maybe she kisses him and he's confused, doesn't close his eyes because it doesn't feel right?

Is he the boy who was so afraid of what it meant to care so much for another boy, that he decided to compartmentalize so he felt less? Because losing Will once almost destroyed him, and sometimes it's easier if we do the pushing away ourselves?

Maybe he latched onto El because it was easier, it was safer, because it's right to like girls and not boys.

And maybe the Mike of season 2 already had an inkling but didn't know for sure, but when posed with the same thing in a different time-frame was hit with another, deeper meaning.

If we can feel empathy for Steve, or if we can acknowledge Max's trauma, or if we can understand Joyce's one track mind or Hopper's temper or Jonathan's distant behavior, we should grace a child/teen that has no one to turn to with the same grace.