#she deserved love so bad but i get why they didn’t seeing how they killed off her s6 li bc of the harassment the actor was getting | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cherryblossom-enthusiast · 5 months ago

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Unrequited (Arthur Morganxf! Reader) - RDR2

A/N: Whoever decided that there could be a button where Arthur Morgan says "good girl" how ever many times you want, I hope both sides of your pillow are cold.

Synopsis: Arthur loved Mary, didn't he? So, why was it he was spouting all this nonesense about loving you?

Warning/ Tags: Angst. But like SO MUCH FLUFF. Allusions to Sex. Mentions of violence. Coarse language. Kissing. Hurt/ Comfort. Angst with a happy ending.

Word Count: 6.1K

Masterlist

Even now, Arthur Morgan was a lovesick fool for Mary Linton.

You shouldn’t have been surprised; you weren’t really. Arthur doesn’t talk about her much anymore, but you’d known him long enough to see he’d never really let that part of himself go. The part of him that loves. That dreams of something better for himself even if he thinks he’s the big, bad, scary man that he is.

And maybe in some aspect, he is that man.

Threatening, bartering, killing. Sometimes you look into his eyes and see nothing but a hard, desolate exterior that wouldn’t think twice about shooting anybody up so long as Dutch told him to do it. But the reality Arthur Morgan doesn’t want to accept is that there’s goodness hiding within the moulding of a gunslinger enforcer.

You can glimpse that goodness when he helps a woman on the road or gives medicine to a man dying from snake poison, and you can especially see it when he’s hauling his ass on his horse to help Mary even when he’s being pulled left and right to finish errands for the camp.

So no, you shouldn’t have been surprised that Arthur would ride out the earliest he could to help his past lover.

But hell, why did it have to hurt you every damn time?

He returns to camp just after the sun rises and light starts to colour the world around you. The air is still crisp, and the heat of the sun is non-existent on your skin. You’re brushing your horse’s mane when you hear the familiar holler of his voice towards Bill. You don’t look towards him as his horse trots towards the hitching post.

As he dismounts, he greets you, a little pep in the tone of his voice.

It irritates you immediately.

“Mornin’.”

You grit your teeth and put on the brightest smile you can muster. “Mornin’!”

He takes a moment. His eyebrows crease. “Something matter?”

“Uh-?”

“Nothing it’s just-“ he breaks to think about the right words to say. “You don’t look- Never mind.”

This only encourages you to grow your façade stronger. “So,” you start “what’d Mary need this time?” It comes off a little pettier than you intended it to be. He doesn’t deserve that, hell, Mary didn’t deserve your bitterness either, fine woman she was.

That little fact seemed inconsequential however every time he uttered her name and the familiar feeling of jealousy pricked, downright stabbed itself in your gut.

He picks up on your tone, not appreciating it one bit. The displeasure that carves into his expression almost makes you wince and the fake smile that’s plastered on your face twitches the slightest bit. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You take the coward’s way out, you always do.

You break eye contact and continue to brush away the embarrasment. You’re rewarded by a loving whinny and it almost distracts you from the ice-cold awkwardness you’ve built around this conversation. “Nothin’, just asking.”

Whether he believes your fib or doesn’t, he doesn’t let it show. But him moving on has you thanking God regardless. He takes out a brush, starting to work on his own mare’s mane. “Good girl.” He whispers. Warmth creeps up your neck as your ears tingle towards the baritone timber of his voice. It makes you lose all self-respect for yourself. He sneaks a look at you for the tiniest bit of time before continuing your conversation. “Her brother was involved in some weird religious group.”

“Is that right?”

“Yep,” he sighs “buncha turtle lovers.”

That gets a genuine chuckle out of you even though you don’t understand it. When you glance towards Arthur’s direction, the indifference has faded away from his features and all that’s left is a sarcastic smirk in its place. All frost has melted away and all too quickly you’re back to the ease that usually came with your dynamic.

You can’t help but throw a snide joke his way. “Gosh, if you’re still this involved in their family drama, you should just make it official and propose again.”

The idea haunts you, of course, it does. But you weren’t going to let Arthur know that. The more you joke, the more it becomes real, the more your true feelings become buried underneath a pile of age-old lies and supportive nonsense. Because at the end of the day, if it would make Arthur happy, you’d keep biting your lip and pushing him towards that happiness.

Love worked funny like that.

His smirk falls and you’re worried you pushed it a tad bit too far. “I tried once and I don’t know if it’ll ever happen.” He turns almost sombre, like thinking back on old memories that were equal parts sweet and bitter and this bothers you in a different way.

“I sincerely think if you were to propose to her right now, she’d say yes with no questions asked.” You hope he sees the genuineness in your intentions.

He merely gives you a scoff, slightly shaking his head. “Yeah well,” he trails off. “It’d never work out now.”

You decide not to continue pushing. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to dig deeper into the situation and even in your sorry narrow-minded state, you could understand and respect keeping your mouth shut when you needed to. You lick your lips and stick another sickly-sweet smile to your face. “Well, you continue on moping, but I can’t say I’ll be sticking around to see you grumbling around.”

That gets him to snort. “And where will the rough and tough princess be today? Helping a rabbit off the road? Wait-“ he pauses for dramatic effect ��Talking to the birds and singing em’ a song?” He makes himself chortle quietly at the idea.

“I have a date.”

That gets him to stop cold turkey. He’s only met with a smug appearance on your end. “You?”

You fake great offence and snap at him. “Hey! Even I can seduce someone if I try!”

“No, I know- I” He appears shaken up about your revelation and for a moment, the tiniest fraction of a second, you could almost see the tensing of his jaw. “With who?”

It’s your turn to leer at him. “Why’s it matter?”

“It doesn’t I-“ he stutters “I just-“

You raise an eyebrow. “Well if you must know, he works at the hardware store.” You say as you recall the day you met the gentleman. “I helped him carry out some tasks and he gave me a daffodil in exchange, of all things.” You pointed at the flower currently tucked in the band of your hat. “Cutest thing.”

“Is that right?” He gruffed out.

“Mhm, so I’m gonna escort him and his granddaughter to a birthday party out in Strawberry.” You giggle. “He said he needed a ‘fighter’ with him because of his ‘old bones’ and ‘lumbago’” You roll your eyes. “Sounds like Uncle.”

This seems to take Arthur by surprise. The dark clouds in his eyes clear out and his eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Wha-?”

You bite your lip to keep your internal laughter from spilling. “Listen, I offered.” You explain. “He’s been giving me discounts at the store and that girl is just the sweetest thing and well-“ you shrug, “I couldn’t say no like the goddamn softie I am.”

The blades in his eyes dull at the statement. The mysterious scrunch of his shoulders from earlier disappears. He steps away from his horse and walks around his mare to shorten the gap between the two of you. It reminds you that he’s tall, much bigger than you are. “That bleedin’ heart of yours is gonna get you killed one day.”

He mutters his words lightly and yet, there’s some odd sadness you don’t understand attached to it. He puckers his lips as if he wants to say more on the matter yet can’t.

You put on your best Arthur impression, puffing up your chest and scrunching your face. “Well, somehow this don’t suit me, now does it?”

He wouldn’t even have to touch you.

At that, Arthur chuckles deeply. “Nah, you obviously ain’t tall enough to be me, shortcake.” He jabs you playfully at the shoulder and in response, you over-exaggerate the motion of being pushed back.

Though, if he really wanted to, Arthur could have you on your back in less than a second.

Before you can go further down that rabbit hole of thoughts, you carry on with the train of humour. “Besides, heard from Jerry there’ll be plenty of cute fellas around to keep me entertained.”

The clouds start to roll back in his demeanour, dare you say with a touch of thunder this time. “You gonna be looking at other men?” The lightness in his voice is gone, only replaced with the venom from before.

You’re befuddled at the quick-changing atmosphere, but don’t go back on what you said. “All I’ve got to look at are you folks all day,” you quip “A girl needs a change of scenery every once in a while.”

He crosses his arms, clearly not amused. “We not pretty enough for you?”

“Well, you are certainly, but I don’t know about Pearson.”

You purse your lips immediately and silently curse yourself at the admission. That same old shit-eating grin makes a comeback. “Is that right?”

You push his arm back, but unlike him, you hardly get the man to move more than half an inch. “Oh shut it.” You quickly un-hitch your horse and mount her. All you want to do is wipe his lips so it turns back into his usual frown, but you’re afraid you’d just embarrass yourself further. “I won’t be back for a while.” You pull your horse away and pat her on the side. “Didn’t know children’s birthday parties could take so damn long.”

“How long will you be gone for?” He mumbles, voice noticeably quieter.

“However long it takes for a fella to get me off.”

Arthur’s eyes widen. The sun highlights the tips of his ears go red. “Wha- What?” He strained out like he wasn’t quite sure of what he just heard.

A real, true laugh comes out of you then as you spur your horse into action, cantering away from camp. You don’t wait to hear the rest of what he has to say. His flushed look is enough of a prize to take with you.

You replay it all the way to Strawberry.

------------------

It was well past sundown when you return. Truthfully, you don’t even know what time it is, all you knew was that you were gone long enough that laying down on your cot would be much appreciated by your aching muscles. There’s a light breeze and you take your hat off, shaking out your hair.

The party was a success. Jerry and his granddaughter got to and from Strawberry safely, and really, that was all you could wish for when you were being hunted constantly because of the bounty on your head. You knew you offered, hell you were pretty self-approving when you did. But even then, you made sure to ask if Jerry really wanted a gunslinger as an escort, to which he replied, “Oh, shove it.”

Wonderful man.

The rest of the camp, well those that were here anyways, aside from Bill who was back on guard duty, are already fast asleep. The crackle of the fire is the only sound filling your ears other than your own footsteps.

There’s a small oil lamp turned on in the corner of your vision, brightening the blue hue and you instantly know the only bastard who would be up at this hour.

He’s drawing again. His brows are focused in that way you loved so much and he only looks up from his journal once you amble closer towards him. You almost hate that you’ve disrupted him. You could watch him draw for hours and hardly get bored.

He closes the book and looks up at you. You nod towards his hands. “You’ll have to show me what you’re working on at some point, Picasso.”

Arthur lets a huff through his nose. “Not gonna happen.” He motions you to sit beside him and you take him up on his offer. You catch a whiff of his scent, something like tobacco mixed with old leather. It may have been slightly repulsive to anyone else, but this was Arthur, and all it made you feel was safe. “You was gone a long time.” He points out, a bitter tinge to his voice. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

You tilt your head at him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Arthur’s eyes narrow. “You just went off and didn’t come back until now.” The bitter tinge morphs into something like annoyance. “I was worried.” He mumbles low.

“Oh, I was fine.” You bump your shoulder against his, but it again, doesn’t make him sway. “Besides, I had a fella with me.”

His hand, the one closest to you, balls up at his side. He’s always been hard to read, but he clearly isn't happy at your revelation. You had half a mind in this late hour to stew in that fact. “Did you now?”

“Sure, one of them single fathers.” You let a small laugh escape you and shake your head, kicking the dirt with your worn-out boots. “Don’t worry, I’d never steal one from a married woman.”

“Was he…cute?” He mutters.

“Never thought I’d hear the word ‘cute’ come out of Arthur Morgan’s mouth.” You catch a glimpse towards him and again note the same pink twinge on his ears, probably embarrassed at being called out on something so stupid.

You finally start to feel that familiar flutter in your stomach hidden behind all that supportive “do what makes you happy nonsense”.

No, you couldn’t have that.

So, you bury it down.

It just became easier that way after all these years.

“That ain’t the damn point.” He continues to grumble. “Was he?”

You ponder the question for a short while. “I mean, he was alright in the looks department, not cute-“

He cuts you off quickly. “Just alright?” He scoffs lightly.

You remember the aforementioned single father in question. His looks are the last thing on your mind. He was alright, not cute, not ugly. Sure, you wouldn’t want to sleep with the man, but-

“He was damn good with his kid, and I thought I’d like to get to know someone like that more.” You reveal through a whisper.

This causes Arthur to frown, but his expression softens. Some of that constant bitterness fades away. “You- “he cuts off and thickly swallows. “You weren’t doing anything strange were you?”

You can feel a prickle of heat in your face at the question. “I mean, we talked sure, but if anything, I just maybe wanted to indulge in a fantasy.” You shrug.

He snaps his gaze back towards you. “A fantasy?”

“What it’d be like-“

God, why was it so hard to say? “Being normal, having a family.”

The silence that follows is thick and you immediately scold yourself for ruining a perfectly airy conversation just like this morning. You regret it, you do, but you can’t deny how nice it is to finally get that dream off your chest. It wasn’t original, what woman at camp, save Mrs. Adler, didn’t want that stability?

The feeling of riding was freeing. It gave you the grace of flying during a time when you were being held down and that will never change. But nowadays, you find that instead of being held down, you want to be held close. To be called important, matter to someone, so that when you felt lost soaring, you’d always have a beacon home.

“Damn it, you can’t be sayin’ things like that.” He forces out a murmur, a shred of his usual gruff tone.

“You ever think about that?” You tread lightly. “Having kids? Building a farm out somewhere and just-“ a deep sigh escapes you. “living and not surviving?”

It takes him a while to answer your question.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t.” The vulnerability colors his voice and it starts to trip you over the edge.

You nod, pursing your lips. “With Mary?” You meekly ask, the crickets chirping making the exchange more awkward. You almost cringe at the silence of it all.

He tenses at her name and it seems like you get your answer.

“With Mary? I mean-“ He tries to dissuade you with absolutely no conviction in his voice. He pauses and curses under his breath. Arthur shakes his head, closing his eyes a moment. “Y’know, it ain’t always about Mary.”

You scoff in disbelief. “Arthur, it’s always been about Mary.” Sighing deeply, you bite your cheek at the acidic truth. “Even when you met Eliza, it was still about Mary.”

He’s taken aback by your statement and a subtle look of frustration overcomes his features. “No, it hasn’t.”

You want to say more, but your sardonic nature halts at his stoic reply. It’s like your heart stops, a coldness and a shrill wake your senses from the inside out. “What?” Your brain halts, all thought ceasing to exist except to process his next response. He tries to avoid eye contact, but you seek his gaze as you tilt your head sideways. “Arthur, what do you mean?” You repeat more sternly, begging to get a straight answer.

He throws you a stick of dynamite.

The smoke clears and all that’s left is the destruction that caters right in the center of your chest.

“What about you?” His voice is hoarse like this is the most difficult thing he’s ever had to squeeze out of his mouth. “What about when it became you?”

Ka-boom.

There’s no longer just a flutter in your stomach, there’s a whole damn circus, and it decides to release the butterflies you worked so hard to keep from their magical chest of caution.

You shake your head and your body goes rigid. You move away from him and stand abruptly as you place your hands on your hips. He’s quick to follow you on your feet. A sarcastic laugh leaves your throat before you can stop yourself. “Arthur-“

“No, let me finish.” He steps in front of you and holds your shoulders square, turning your body towards him. Even in your bubbling anger, you hate the way your skin immediately melts under his touch. His eyes and actions are pleading for you to stay, so you let him speak, biting your tongue to keep yourself from interrupting. He stumbles over his words. “It’s been you for a long damn time.” He admits. “But I was, I don’t know-“You notice the light sheen of sweat gracing his forehead. “I was scared to say something.”

“If this is some dumb joke-“

“No!” He immediately denies like he’s appalled you would even think of it in that way.

“Well,” you sneer “I’m sorry if I have a hard time believing that.” You remove his hands from your shoulders stiffly and start to trudge away back to your horse.

In the years you’d known him, Arthur had been a force, even more so when he was younger and reckless. He was stubborn as a mule and despite keeping the peace for the most part, there was a strut in his step when he walked because he knew he had the power to change that fact whenever he wanted and get away scotch-free. Arthur was arrogant in that way, always threatening people with a smirk or an edge to his voice.

But this is the first time you see him flinch and it happens to be at your curt words.

A lump catches in your throat, but you’re too annoyed to care, all but continuing the short distance back to the hitching posts. Arthur is hot on your tracks, not letting up one bit. Maybe Bill was overhearing, maybe one of the girls stirred awake. It didn’t matter, you couldn’t care less. You just wanted to get the hell away from here.

His catches up to you in no time, his strides much longer than yours. He steps in front of your path and when you make a move to step aside, he mirrors your actions. You click your tongue, glowering at him from beneath your lashes. “Look,” he starts “now I know you may not like me, but I-“

That gets your anger rising to incomparable heights. “Not like you?!” You practically shout out. Looking around, you remember where you are and it’s the only reason your voice lowers. “Arthur, I’ve liked you since the day I met you!”

His eyebrows pull together and his nose crinkles. Arthur’s face morphs into something like agitation from its previous confusion. “So, why all this attitude?”

You’re dejected. “Why all this attitude?” You softly hiss. “Why all this attitude when I’ve loved you for years and all I’ve heard about is Mary?”

Arthur winces. He steps back from you, recoiling like he’s just been shot by a sniper rifle.

Good, you think. He should feel like a right asshole.

“’Why all this attitude’ he says!” You giggle manically at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. “Where do I even start?” You begin to rant, hands back on your hips to give you some sort of anchor from sinking towards the ground. “I don’t know Arthur, maybe it’s because while I’ve been here stewing in self-pity, you were always out seeing her. Maybe, it’s because every time you were young, drunk, and broken, you’d come back whispering her name, mistaking her for me, and I was the one helping you pick up the pieces.”

Your heart was racing a million yards a minute, but you couldn’t stop now. All the hurt and sorry baggage poured out like molten lava, burning with years of intensity. “Or maybe-“ you point an index finger at him and snap sarcastically as if you’ve just discovered a newfound truth “Maybe, it was because I worked so damn hard to tell myself I wasn’t in love with you and you just-“ your voice breaks.

Arthur doesn’t interrupt you at any part of your monologuing. Just like usual, you can hardly decipher his emotions except notice the colour draining from his face.

“So, I’m sorry that I don’t believe you when you say It’s been me.” You continue. “You’ve given me no reason to believe otherwise.”

You sidestep him, not taking a single look back in fear of him seeing the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You unhitch your horse, giving her a slight pat before mounting her again.

- - - - - - - - - - -

You don’t see or speak to Arthur for a few days after your argument.

You don’t have much energy to talk to anyone really.

So, you somehow end up back at a familiar field surrounded by evergreen trees and flowers. The crystalline water of the hot springs gleams in your eyes and a chill wind sends shivers up your spine.

You set up camp and stay a while. The serenity of the woods is welcomed. You don’t consider yourself the best hunter, but fishing didn’t require the same amount of dexterity. It's quiet, peaceful even. All you hear is the chirp of the birds and the steady flow of water.

It gives you time to cool off, reflect on everything that’s happened.

The more time you spend out here, the more hesitant you are to leave. It's a nice reprieve from the perils of civilization and you find yourself slipping away, trying to grasp a sense of comfort that's unimaginable for you most days.

Tends to happen when you're an outlaw, you suppose.

But one day, as you’re laying under the shade of a tree, feeling the blades of soft grass beneath you, you hear heavy footsteps starting to approach.

There's no need to bother even acting surprised.

Arthur takes a seat beside you with a deep sigh. He leans back, using his hands to support him.

The both of you are silent for a while, not one peep out of your mouths. You expect it to be uncomfortable but having him by your side brings an ease you haven’t felt in days. Arthur continues to stare up at the sun starting to descend in the horizon and you follow suit, eyes trained to the sky above.

“When I met you, I thought you were nothing more than a naïve, innocent little thing.” He starts, baritone drawl catching you off guard. You don’t realize how much you’d missed hearing it until now. “You were this small girl I needed to protect. “

You glance towards him and notice the small smile now gracing his lips, his eyes glossed over like remembering memories from so very long ago. “You could barely ride a horse, hell, you could barely mount one.”

The genuine warmth in his voice continues to chip away any frustrations left within you as you recall those days like snapshots in your mind.

“Every day, it was something new with you.” He laughs out, making your heart traitorously skip a beat. “You were learning the ropes of it all, and for a while, you were just a ratty brat who wanted to try on boots that were too big for her.” He pauses and you look at him more clearly this time, head turned towards him fully in an effort to really listen to what he has to say. “But Mary, she-“ he swallows “I could just turn my thoughts off with her.”

He gives out another sigh. “I loved her, I did.” He admits. “It was so easy loving her at the time. We had no expectations of one another, and then all of a sudden that shifted and I don’t know if I could have been the man she needed me to be.”

You ache but it’s not because he mentions his past lover’s name.

“So I ended up actin’ like a goddamn fool. Boozin’, sleeping around.” He groans, obviously not proud of his previous ventures. “Dutch and Hosea, they couldn’t pull me out of it. I mean, they tried everything, but then-“ He releases a relieved chuckle. “Some woman I’d never met before poured a bucket of cold water over my head and pulled out her revolver, threatening to shoot my dumb ass if I didn’t get up.”

You snort as you’re reminded of that day.

It was dry and humid, overall making it a miserable summer afternoon. Arthur stumbled back into camp smelling like he was doused in moonshine, groggy and slurring his words together. Even Hosea, forgiving as he was, cringed at his sorry state.

You just about had it.

After collecting some from the nearby stream, you pushed Arthur down and doused him in ice-cold water. He sputtered, clearly not happy about what you just did and attempted to get up to confront you. You pulled out your gun before he could and shot right between his legs onto the dirt below. “If you don’t pull your damn weight around here, I’ll make sure the next shot hits!” you shouted, utterly disappointed.

“Good times.” You mutter and Arthur’s smile widens.

“Sure.” He agreed. “When my eyes started to clear, I swear to god I thought I was looking at an angel.”

You had a hard time believing that too. “You looked at a woman who just shot at you and thought she was angelic?”

He tries to find better words. “I guess you looked ethereal all together.” He tries to explain. “Like you were something I’d see at the pearly white gates of judgement.”

You sat amused at his thoughts. “That so?”

He’s finally able to make eye contact with you and revels in that fact. “My vision was still a little hazy and you just stood over me, posture straight, hat on.” He takes his hand and scratches his chin. It’s a tick for when he’s nervous. “Your hair had a glow to it from the sun and your eyes, they just- had this fire in em’ I’d never seen before.”

His shoulders drop and the mood suddenly turns mellow. “When we were ridin’ around and ended up at this clearin’, you just took off without me and I realized how much you’d grown into yourself right under my nose. You didn’t change much, you were still the same old, sunshine, animal-lovin’ princess, but the way you carried yourself? Asserted yourself more? God-.”

He holds your gaze as he continues and it’s like the world holds its breath for whatever he has to say next. “You rode off, hair wild, not looking back at me one bit and I just couldn’t stop starin’ at you because I thought you were such a damn sight.”

“It made me wonder-“ his words trail off. He stops for a while and you let him. You know how much courage it was taking him right now to admit this to you, letting down those guarded stone walls he loved so much.

You lick your lips, and in an act of your own bravery, you settle your hand on top of his, to which he visibly softens upon. “Made you wonder?” You urge.

“If that’s what Mary felt like, seeing me go all those times.” He finishes. “Because I hated it. I hated every time you got on that horse and left, and it would only hurt less whenever you came back.”

Arthur’s hand starts to clench, but you flip his hand in yours so you can interlock your fingers properly. You give his hand a squeeze and the tension eases off.

“But then I hear you wantin’ to go off with some man and all I could do was mope like a sorry idiot because what if-“ His throat works. “What if you rode off and didn’t come back this time?”

“Oh, Arthur.” You softly coo.

His hand starts to make small slow circles over your hands. “You know I realized something when I last saw Mary that I didn’t before.”

You’re expectant to hear what it is.

“Every time it got a little too rough between us, she was done with me.” He perceived. “I don’t blame her, she deserves someone to make her happy, but I wasn’t gonna change fast enough in her eyes.” He squeezes your hand tighter. “But you- you didn’t expect me to change on a dime. You were patient, you understood that I didn’t want to start a family not because I didn’t want to, but because I was afraid of feeling that pain again.”

After clenching his jaw, he takes his other palm and cups your cheek with the utmost tenderness a man of his size could muster. “With you, I feel like I can be something else, something good.” You lean towards his touch, begging that if this were a dream, you never wanted to be woken up. His gaze is soft on your features, highlighted by the starlight above.

“I fell in love with you a long time ago Arthur Morgan.” You confess. “I keep running away because no one holds me close enough to keep me somewhere.”

You feel a lump in your throat as you remember all the times you rode off wanting to hear him shout "Wait!", but he never did.

“I know and I’m sorry for that sweetheart, I really am.”

Tears start to escape your eyes and you don’t bother wiping them away. “Loving you hurt so much Arthur.” You whimper. “I started to pack all of those feelings away if it meant I didn’t have to ruin what we already had.”

He presses his rough lips to your forehead and leans back. “I know sweetheart, I’m sorry.” He tilts your chin up with a finger. “If I could go back and change the way I handled it all, I would.”

“Give me something to believe that this is real. That I’m not just making this up in my misery.”

Arthur takes a moment to look at you before he speaks. He takes the time to figure out how he’s supposed to approach what he wanted to convey “Close your eyes for just a second.” He mumbled, his voice pleading.

You don’t question it and do what he wants you to do. You fully accept you’d be one of those pathetic individuals who’d follow him off a cliff if it meant staying with him and keeping him safe.

In the darkness, you feel him pick up your hands and place them on his chest. Under your palms, you feel the fast thrum of the beat of his heart and the laboured way his chest rises. You stay like that for a few seconds and match your breathing to his.

“Okay,” his voice cuts through your thoughts “now open your eyes.” You follow his command and you open your eyes to Arthur with a tender expression. You feel his breathing get faster, like he’s almost waiting for a reaction.

You tilt your head. “What?”

Arthur chuckles quietly at your question. “This is me trying to prove I’m serious about you.” His hands are still around your wrists, keeping your palms on his chest in place.

“By what? Letting me feel you up?” You jokingly say. “Arthur, who do you think’s being lugging your heavy ass around when you’re drunk, cause it sure as hell ain’t Uncle-“

Even in the darkness that surrounded you, you can sense his embarrassment. He starts to sputter to quickly get words out “Wha- no, that’s not what- I- you-“ He stutters, clearly flustered at the comment. He sighs. “Now, that’s not what I meant and you know it, sweetheart.”

“So then, what?” You push. You’re not trying to be obtuse in any way, but you want to hear a proper answer.

Arthur swallows awkwardly. “I’m just- I want you to know that my heart beats for you.”

It puts you in such a complete state of shock, it renders you speechless.

Just a couple of days ago, you would have been thirsty to hear those words drip out of his lips, but now that you’ve actually heard him say it, you don’t know how to exactly respond.

“Sweetheart?” He calls, voice laced with worry.

You slowly lean down and press your ear against his chest, wrapping your arms around him. He smells like gun smoke and mountain air. The fast bu-dump of his heart is intoxicating, making you break out into a smile.

After a few seconds, he slowly places his own arms around you and pulls you in closer. His hold is firm. Secure. A bandwagon of bandits or federal agents could show up this instant and he wouldn’t let anything or anyone so much as even look at you the wrong way.

He tucks your head under his chin. “I can’t give you a house, or children, or land right now, but I want you to know you have my heart.” He places another soft kiss on your forehead. “You’ve had it for a long time and it’ll always be yours as long you’ll have me.”

“Well, I never thought Arthur Morgan was capable of such sweet words.” You tease.

You feel the rumble of his chest as he freely laughs. “Well, there’s a lot we don’t know about each other it seems.”

You give his statement some thought. “Maybe we can start to find those things about each other out.”

He nods against you. “I’d like that.”

You sniffle and follow him in letting out a laugh. “I’ll end up falling asleep here if we keep this up.”

He snickers at your comment. “I guess I’ll just have to carry you to bed then, huh?” He teases back, his tone light and playful.

You push away from his chest and fix your gaze directly at him, a dazed smile on your face. “I guess you’ll just have to, Arthur Morgan.”

His breathing hitches, obviously not expecting to be accepted on his offer. “Yeah, I suppose I will, sweetheart.”

You place a kiss squarely on his mouth and he reciprocates it almost immediately.

You grasp his face with your hands and do something you’ve been wanting to do since the day you met him.

His lips, though slightly chapped are soft and his stubble that he hasn’t shaved for weeks tickles your cheeks, poking you in a pleasurable way. You taste the tobacco on him and though you don’t smoke, maybe through kissing him you get the appeal. Fingers thread through your braid that’s falling apart by the second.

For the first time, you don't hold the butteflies back.

You part your lips to deepen the kiss and allow him to explore your mouth with his tongue.

It becomes hungry. Insatiable. It's years of pent up frustration and confusion exploding into a possession that consumes your whole body. He groans and you barely notice when he scoops you up, hooking his arm under your legs. “God, we could have been doing this earlier.” He growls.

As you giggle against his lips, Arthur continues to carry you, walking briskly towards your tent.

And the world around you stayed silent that night, except for a few hushed noises.

- - - - - - -

A/N: Yee-haw. Pls interact, I need to to talk to more RDR people lmao. pls.

#fanfiction #smut #x reader #fluff #fanfic #rdr2 #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 community #red dead redemption #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x reader #Arthur morgan fluff #Arthur Morgan Smut

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cottonconnielvr · 2 years ago

Note

Okay so, we’re obviously Connie’s very spoiled girlfriend

Reader had eyes on this really expensive bag that she’s been dying to have. She asked Plug!Connie and he has the audacity to tell us no, just to see how we’d react. Reader starts having a really nasty bratty attitude for a week and now daddy gotta set us straight 🫣

WARNINGS ✩ — squirting, smoking, sloppy messy blowjob, reader calls con daddy, reader is sensitive emotionally,rough sex, crying, handjob,overstimulation + just nasty stuff (may b a couple mistakes bc i didnt feel like re-reading imma do it later tho😭)

JEAN passed the blunt over to Connie, slightly shaking from coughing. Connie, who was sitting on Eren’s couch, shook his head as he scrolled through your ig story. “Swear this lil girl want me to fuck her shit up,” Connie mumbled as he hit the blunt.

Eren laughed from the floor, sitting in a bean bag. “What she do now?”

“She got a lil attitude with me because I told her not to let her fucking demon dog in the room anymore. So now she posting shit she know will make me mad” Connie passed his phone to Eren, letting him look at your story.

“You spoil that girl wayyy too much anyway,” Jean added.

“What you mean?” Connie asked with an attitude.

“She never listen to your ass because you say yes to everything she says. She literally gets whatever she wants from you.” Connie fights the urge to defend his spoiled princess but, Jean was making a point.

“I mean he did kinda do it to himself, not her” Eren passed the blunt to Jean.

“Bro you’re her bitch” Jean says in disbelief. “Shut yo long headed ass up. I am not her bitch” Connie defends himself, although a part of him agreed with Jean. Connie never really did put you in check unless it ended with angry sex. He was never super stern with, just letting you get by with everything.

But that was the way it was supposed to be. You were his spoiled little princess who always got what she wanted because she deserves it more than anyone.

“Just tell her no to see how she reacts”

Connie doesn’t give an answer, just contemplating on it.

“Ight”

“Isn’t she gorgeous baby just look” You practically shove your phone in Connie’s face. Connie looks at the pink purse. “I’ve been obsessing so bad and I neeedd it, please” Your glossy lips pout as you beg.

Connie furrowed his eyebrows, “Mhmm no I think you’re good.” You jerk your head back, trying to process that word, No.

You don’t have a great history with the word no.

“No y/n you can’t have this”

“No y/n you can’t have that”

Why would anyone deny you anything?

“What? Why! What did I do? Why not!?” You whined feeling the need to cry.

“You don’t exactly deserve it. You haven’t been good”Connie fought the urge to smile at you, such a crybaby. “What!? Baby I have what are you talking about?” You sat up, sitting on Connie’s lap.

“Your instagram stories, you keep going to parties I tell you not to go to. You needa get your act together” You gasped, offended that he was acting so nonchalant. He was basically telling you that he didn’t love you anymore.

“So until you fix your attitude then maybe, you can get it” Connie practically brushed you off and reached for his blunt. You sat there frozen for a minute, feeling betrayed and heartbroken.

“Okay Connie.” You said in a monotone voice before getting off of Connie and walking out of the room.

The rest of the week has been hell for Connie.

You had one of the worst attitudes ever, giving Connie silent treatment, short answers, and no sex.Were you trying to kill him?

In your point of view, you weren’t gonna stop until he apologized ( with an apology gift to go with ).

Connie walked in the house, hearing you blast “Me, Myself, and I” by Beyonce. Connie shook his head, obviously understanding the message.

“Baby!” Connie yelled from downstairs.

Meanwhile you sat at your vanity, fixing your hair. Connie opened the door to your beauty room, “You ain hear me calling you?” He asked while squinting his eyes at you. “I guess not.” Connie watched as you rolled your eyes.

Connie leaned on the door, poking his tongue against his cheek. “What’s yo problem?” He finally asked.

You stayed silent.

“I’m talking to you, Y/N.” Connie said sternly.

“Nothing Connie” You stood up, fully showcasing your tight outfit.

“ where you goin” Connie looked you up and down, ignoring his boner and licking his lips.

You were wearing a tight denim mini skirt with baby tee, showing your boobs practically poking out the top. “Just going out” You grabbed your purse which Connie recognized it as a new one.

You had to buy it yourself since no charges came from Connie’s card and you’ve been avoiding him like crazy. Connie knew you were really mad if you start paying for your own stuff. You walked passed him, purposely hitting him with your purse and a small oops leaving your mouth.

Connie just smiled to himself, shaking his head. You were gonna sleep really good tonight.

“What I tell you about walking away from me mama?” Connie followed you to the living room. You didn’t answer, walking to the front door.

You stood a little shocked as Connie sat on the couch. He got pretty comfortable, reaching for his phone out of his pocket.

Just as you reached for the lock, “Y/N come sit down with me”

Your legs practically went numb as you heard the tone in Connie’s voice. He sounded very very stern which meant he was not in the mood to be fucked with.

Your boldness melted away. Your head immediately went down, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

You sat in the loveseat across from Connie, messing with your fishnets. “I said come sit with me Y/N” You didn’t hesitate to move the second he said your name.

Yeah he was pissed.

You walked over to Connie, his hand grabbing yours as he pulls you on his lap. You land on Connie’s muscular thigh, his hand immediately going to your inner thigh.

His touch felt good, your attention now focused on the feeling. His tatted fingers massaging your inner thigh.

“What’s yo problem? Didn’t even care to ask me how my day was,” Connie looked up at you as you stayed silent. A pinch was sent to your inner thigh, making you jump.

“I don’t have a problem Connie. I was just trying to have fun”

“Why you lying to me Y/N” Connie grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“You just made me upset and I-I just really wanted the bag” Connie’s thumb wiped against your bottom lip, smearing your lip gloss.

“Instead of acting like a brat you should’ve told me that you were upset. I thought we agreed to talk like adults whenever we feel upset with eachother, not do this petty ass silent treatment shit.”

“I’m sorry Con” Your voice small and quiet out of guiltiness.

“I don’t believe you ma” Connie leaned back on the couch, removing his hands from your body.

You whined, missing his touch after you ignored him for days. “I really am daddy”

Connie almost folded at the pet name, fighting the urge to pound you into the couch until your makeup comes off but that could wait. He wanted to make you beg a little longer.

“I don’t believe you. Gonna show me how sorry you are hm?” You quickly nodded, taking place between his spread legs. Your hands immediately went for the band of his sweatpants, tugging them down with eagerness. Connie lifted up his hips, letting you pull down his boxers as well. His cock springing up against his stomach ( his name ain’t connie springer for no reasonnnn)

Your tongue ran up his balls, going all the way up to the tip. “Fuck” Connie mumbled to himself, it’s felt like forever since you’ve gave him a blowjob.

You hollowed your cheeks as you took him down to the base. You flattened your tongue against the underside of his cock, feeling him stuff your throat.

Your hands rested on the floor besides your knees, stabling yourself as you tried to breathe through your nose.

You gagged once you felt Connie buck his hips upwards. Connie’s hands went to your head, keeping you in place.

Your nose was flush against his lower stomach. Connie thrusted up into your mouth, groaning to himself. The more he looked down at you, the angrier he got.

How dare you ignore him and keep this pretty little mouth away from him. You could feel your scalp become sore from the deadly grip Connie had on it.

The sloppy sound of your gags and the wetness of your mouth filled the living room. The scene was so nasty and filthy, your saliva leaking all around Connie’s cock and your mouth.

Your hands tapped at Connie’s thighs. Connie lifted your head up, letting you breathe. Strings of spit connected from your mouth to Connie’s cock, making him groan.

You panted, feeling your sticky lip gloss all over your mouth.

“Stick your tongue out” Connie slowly stroked himself. You stuck your tongue out. Connie slapped his dick around your tongue, making your saliva drip down to your boobs. Connie rubbed his dick all over your lips before bringing it down to your chest.

“F-fuck” Connie moaned deeply. Your eyes watered, feeling so humiliated and used.

“You sorry baby?” Connie asked, slapping your wet cheek. A tear ran down your cheek, running black with your mascara. “Y-yes” You whimpered. Your hands twisted up and down his cock.

“ Gonna b-be g..good for me hm?” You stuck your tongue out, looking up at Connie. You watched as Connie pushed out a glob of spit, it landing on your tongue. You swallowed, Connie slapping your cheek once again. “Look at me ma” Your eyes locked with Connie’s before he pushed your head down on his dick again, moving your head up and down. You moaned lightly, causing a vibration to run through connie’s cock. “Make me c-c..ah..cum” Connie hissed, feeling your take him so deep. Connie could feel his stomach tightening , toes curling, and thighs clenching. “F-fuck baby” Connie pulled out of your mouth, ribbons of white cum squirting in your face. Connie winced as he rubbed his cum into your face with his tip, smearing it all over your lips (since you like lip gloss so much)

Your mascara ran down your face, making you look an absolute mess. a beautiful mess

“f-fuckfuckfuck m’sorry! i-im sorry daddy, i’m s-s..i’m so sorry” Your muffled cries fell on deaf ears, Connie continuing his brutal thrusts. He was fucking you so so so hard.

It hurt so bad but felt so good. Your legs went numb rounds ago and your body was a mess, covered in your own fluids mixed with Connie’s.

Your mouth was open, sending your screams into the silk white pillow. Connie hovered above you, holding onto the headboard as he slammed his hips into you. “F-fuck cum again” Connie ordered you, reaching between your legs to rub your swollen clit.

“I-i can’t-” You gasped out, on the verge of passing out. You gripped onto the cold pillows, trying to pull yourself up and away from his torture. Connie took notice of this and wrapped his hand around your throat, pulling you back.

“You are.” You heard Connie sternly mutter.

You whined, your hand reaching behind you to push Connie away only for Connie to grab both of your hands. He pinned them down on the deep arch in your back, absolutely churning your insides.

“I-i..i promise pa- m’not go..gonna act up anymore” You cried out, loosing all of your body strength.

You body physically went numb altogether, a rush of pleasure washes over you. Your legs shook violently. You let out a scream that you were not aware of, clenching hard on Connie’s cock.

“S-shit” Connie looked down, seeing you wet up his lower body

(“they told me to stay out that water park😔” - future baby daddy connie with his five kids tackling him)

The pressure pushed Connie’s cock out of you, causing him to paint your ass with white ribbons.

Connie took a moment to breathe before he moved from above you, your breathing was now steady and you laid flush into the bed.

Connie squinted his eyes, slowly turning your face. No way this girl is sleep right now I ain done

“Baby...Baby…..Baby” Connie shook your body, waking you up. You whined, going right back to that bratty attitude that Connie loved oh so much.

“Whattt” You were so exhausted, moving was not an option right now.

After a much needed bath, you fell right asleep with just a bra and panties on. You were knocked out, sleeping all the way until 12 pm.

You woke up to just you in the bed, your house ringing silence. (Marshmallow is at a doggy hotel getting groomed #materialgworl💅) Instead of waking up to Connie’s presence you woke up to a box with a note on top of it.

‘Had to leave early and handle some business with Ony, I’ll be back before you know it. Thank me later sexy’

You sat the note aside before taking the top off of the pink box, only to see the very purse the got you in this situation to begin with.

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claramelooo · 13 days ago

Text

Hey, guys! Sorry I'm late, I'm at a sleepover! Enjoy!

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT!

Warning: +18, discipline

Paring: Mommy Wanda x Brat Fem reader

Summary: After forgetting a date with Wanda, you get what you deserve

VELVET CHAINS

DEPENDECE

The days passed, and you remained unaware of the storm of emotions brewing within Wanda. You felt safe, confident by her side.

Wanda had shaped your self-confidence, helping you develop a sense of identity beyond the submissive, uninspired version your parents had tried to mold. Over time, through playful glances and mischievous smiles, she realized how unique your personality truly was.

Your witty comebacks, questionable humor, and untimely jokes—those were the traits that made you so singular in her eyes. She watched you as if every move you made was a piece of a puzzle she could never fully solve, yet she couldn't stop trying.

It was your carefree nature that unsettled her. You were like a hurricane—unpredictable, irreverent, and utterly at ease being yourself around her. Wanda, so accustomed to meticulous control and carefully planning every step, found her sanity tested by your provocations.

Like that afternoon.

"Do you always have to have the last word?" Wanda asked, raising an eyebrow as she stared at you from across the room.

"Only when someone gives me a reason," you replied, resting your chin on your hand, a smile playing on your lips—half challenge, half charm.

Wanda crossed her arms, slowly walking toward you.

"You know that drives me crazy, don't you?"

"Maybe," you teased, your tone light but full of mischief. "But you love it."

She stopped in front of you, leaning just enough for her presence to completely envelop you. Her green eyes sparkled with that familiar mix of exasperation and fascination.

"And why would I love something so infuriating?"

You shrugged, tilting your head with an innocent smile full of unspoken intentions.

"Because it means you never know what to expect from me. And you like the challenge, Wanda. Admitting it won’t kill you."

Her laugh was low, almost dark, but you saw the corner of her mouth curl upward.

"You’re unbelievable," she murmured, taking your hand and pulling you closer—so close you could feel the heat radiating from her body. "And do you know what the problem with that is?"

"Hmm?" you prompted, looking up at her from beneath your lashes with the most playful expression you could muster.

"It’s that I never want you to change."

The admission carried a weight that caught you off guard. For a moment, the air between you grew heavy with unspoken emotions. But instead of retreating, you chose to break the tension in your own way.

"So, if I make another bad joke right now, you’ll still like me?"

Wanda sighed, but there was a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

"Go ahead and find out, little one."

You didn’t waste a second.

"What’s the name of the sleepiest superhero? Napman—because he fights sleep!"

Wanda closed her eyes for a second, as if summoning patience. When she opened them, her gaze was intense.

"See? This is what drives me insane."

"But you still like it, don’t you?" you teased, leaning into her, confidence radiating from every move you made.

Wanda didn’t respond with words, but the slow smile spreading across her lips was answer enough.

Hours later, you were curled up on the couch under a blanket, a book open on your lap. Wanda was in the kitchen, focused on preparing something, as she often did, and you felt comfortable enough to be entirely yourself—playful, sassy, and a little bratty—the way only you could be around her.

"Wanda, you’re taking forever!" you whined, throwing your head back dramatically. "I’m going to starve before you’re done!"

She appeared in the kitchen doorway, one eyebrow arched, her gaze making you shiver—but not enough to stop your antics.

"Then come here and do it yourself if you’re in such a hurry," she said calmly, though her tone carried that edge that always made you think twice.

You looked at her with a mischievous grin, knowing exactly what you were doing.

"Oh, but you do it so much better. I deserve the best, don’t I?"

Wanda set down what she was holding and walked toward you, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She stopped beside the couch, looking at you with that perfect mix of exasperation and amusement only she could manage.

"You do deserve the best. But do you know what else you deserve?" She leaned down, taking the book from your lap and setting it aside. "Discipline. Lots of discipline."

Your smile faltered for a second, but you quickly recovered. “Discipline? Why? I’m an angel!”

Wanda chuckled softly, leaning in closer until your faces were just inches apart. “An angel? Are you sure about that? Because to me, you seem more like… a brat.”

You tried to hold back your laughter but failed. “And what are you going to do about it, mommy?” The nickname came out in a challenging tone, and you knew you were playing with fire.

She narrowed her eyes, a slow smile forming on her lips. “Want to find out?”

Before you could respond, Wanda grabbed you by the waist, lifting you off the couch as if you weighed nothing. You squirmed, laughing loudly as she carried you toward the kitchen.

“Wanda! Put me down!” you protested, though your laughter betrayed any attempt to sound serious.

“Not until you learn to stop provoking me. Now, cut the apples, darling. I’m making pie.” She set you down on one of the kitchen chairs, returning to the stove with a satisfied expression.

You crossed your arms, pretending to be indignant. “This is an abuse of power.”

Wanda glanced over her shoulder, smiling. “This is love, my sweet. Now stay quiet and let me finish dinner, or I might come up with other ways to deal with your brattiness.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but her expression made you think twice. Instead, you grabbed one of the apples from the counter and started eating it, that mischievous glint still in your eyes.

Wanda shook her head, laughing softly. She knew you wouldn’t change, and deep down, she didn’t want you to. After all, it was precisely your antics that made every moment with you so unique.

[...]

The smell of freshly brewed coffee and cinnamon donuts filled the small café in the heart of the city. You were sitting in a quiet corner, surrounded by books, notebooks, and loose papers. A cup of cappuccino sat cooling by your side as you scribbled furiously, eyes fixed on a seemingly endless reading list.

“This looks like torture,” Yelena remarked, appearing beside you with a tray in her hands. She sat across from you, balancing her coffee cup and a plate with a croissant.

“It’s Yale,” you replied with a sigh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Not exactly a walk in the park.”

“Why do you do this to yourself?” Yelena asked, frowning slightly. Despite the playful tone, there was genuine concern in her voice.

“Because it’s my dream,” you said firmly, shrugging. “And dreams require sacrifices.”

Yelena laughed, tearing off a piece of her croissant. “Always so dramatic. Relax a little, will you? You’re doing great. Besides, nobody can be perfect all the time.”

“Easy for you to say,” you teased, glancing up at her. “Some of us have to work for what we want.”

“Ouch,” she said, placing a hand over her chest as if wounded. “You’re cruel. And speaking of hard work…” Yelena looked around before leaning over the table. “I have to ask. What’s going on between you and Wanda?”

Your heart stopped for a moment. Her tone wasn’t accusatory or suspicious, so you decided to test the waters.

“What do you mean?”

Yelena frowned. “‘What do you mean,’ seriously? You’re temporarily staying in that witch’s house. Do you realize how concerning that sounds?”

You let out a relieved laugh. “Witch? What are you talking about? Wanda’s an amazing woman!” Yelena gave you an incredulous look.

She crossed her arms, leaning back in the chair as if she were assessing you. Her gaze was half playful, half interrogative. “Amazing woman?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Are we talking about the same Wanda who, with just a look, makes everyone either want to run away or kneel? Because, honestly, this ‘amazing woman’ has a pretty… controlling vibe.”

You laughed, stirring your coffee to avoid her gaze. “She just has a strong personality. She’s determined, you know? It’s not like she’s mean.” You replied—cheeks burning as memories of the previous night flashed through your mind, where you learned firsthand that Wanda could be mean, after all.

Yelena scoffed. “Oh, sure. And I’m the Queen of England.”

“I’m serious, Yelena,” you insisted, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck. “She’s incredible. Smart, funny… and she treats me well.”

“Treats you well, huh?” Yelena leaned forward, narrowing her eyes. “That’s a cute way of saying you’re being super gay for her, isn’t it?”

Your eyes widened, and you groaned in exasperation. “Yelena! Stop it! Wanda’s married!” You made exaggerated hand gestures, hoping to wave away any suspicion.

“Yeah, I know. And yet, here you are, stammering with flushed cheeks.” The blonde pinched your cheeks between her fingers, making you yelp in protest.

“All right, all right!” Yelena raised her hands in surrender. “I won’t tell anyone about your little crush on the married milf.”

You let out a sigh of relief, but you couldn’t help casting a cautious glance at Yelena. “I don’t have a crush on anyone!” you insisted, crossing your arms and trying to sound firm.

Yelena smirked, the mischievous glint in her eyes showing she didn’t believe you for a second. “Oh, sure, because not having a crush perfectly explains why you get all flustered just saying her name.”

“You’re unbearable,” you muttered, grabbing your coffee cup to hide behind it.

“I’m unbearable, but I’m right,” Yelena countered, leaning forward with a conspiratorial look. “So, what did she do to make you like this? Was it that killer stare? Or maybe the way she talks, all authoritative?”

“Yelena!” you exclaimed, nearly spilling your coffee.

“Ah, I knew it!” Yelena slapped the table, laughing loud enough to make a few people in the café glance your way. “You like it when she bosses you around, don’t you?”

“I’m going to kill you,” you said through gritted teeth, though your face was so hot it could have set the entire café on fire.

“Relax, no one here’s judging,” she said, raising her hands again in mock innocence. “I’m just saying that if it were me, I’d probably be swooning too. I mean, the woman’s a total icon of milf power.”

“Milf power? Where do you even come up with this stuff?” you asked, laughing despite yourself.

“I’m Russian. Every Russian knows this,” Yelena replied with a dramatic wave of her hand.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help smiling. Yelena always had a way of disarming you, even when she was being completely irritating.

Yelena raised her cup as if making a toast. “Now, spill. Does she kiss well or not?”

“Yelena!” you exclaimed, feeling your face heat up even more.

“Oh, come on, I deserve to know! If you’re going to tangle with a powerful witch, at least give me the details.”

You shook your head, laughing. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re predictable,” Yelena shot back with a wink. “But that’s fine. I’ll find out one way or another.”

Her laughter echoed through the café, and for the first time in days, you felt a little lighter.

[...]

When you got home, you immediately sensed something was wrong. The house was too quiet. Wanda was in the living room, arms crossed, her eyes glinting with an intensity that made you freeze in the doorway.

“Hi,” you began hesitantly, feeling the tension in the air.

“Did you have fun?” Wanda asked, her voice low but laced with controlled anger.

You swallowed hard, nervousness coursing through your veins. “Yes…” you replied, testing her mood.

Wanda tilted her head slightly, as if assessing your response. The smile that curled on her lips was small but completely devoid of humor. “That’s good,” she said, her sweetness as sharp as a blade. “Because while you were out having fun, I was here… thinking.”

“I wasn’t… I was studying.” Your justification was completely ignored as Wanda started walking toward you, her movements feline.

Wanda took a step closer, and you instinctively stepped back. “I was thinking about how foolish I was to believe you knew your place.”

“My place?” you repeated, surprise mixing with your growing unease.

“Yes, your place,” she replied, her voice colder now. “By my side. Here. With me.”

“Wanda, I didn’t do anything wrong,” you started, but she raised a hand, cutting you off.

“Exactly! You didn’t!” she questioned, her eyes blazing with anger. “You were out with her while I was here… waiting for you for tea.”

As she mentioned it, your gaze fell on the tea set, perfectly arranged—you cursed yourself mentally. You and Wanda had developed small rituals throughout the day, and tea time was one of them.

She would sip her tea while you lay on her lap, listening as she read to you. Guilt stabbed at your heart.

“I… I just went out with a friend. Yelena is a childhood friend,” you argued, trying to remain calm, but her intensity was almost overwhelming.

“Friend,” Wanda repeated, as if tasting the word and finding it repugnant. “Is that why you ignored my messages? Came back smelling like coffee and laughter that wasn’t mine?”

When Wanda realized you’d been with Yelena, it was as if something inside her cracked. Her first reaction was disbelief—how could you be with someone else? It wasn’t conventional jealousy, not the kind that came with exclusivity. It was something deeper, primal, a visceral cry of possession she didn’t know she had until she met you.

She tried to focus on other things, but her thoughts kept circling back to the image of you laughing with Yelena. The smile she considered hers, willingly shared with someone else. As hours passed and her messages remained unanswered, every minute felt like a cruel reminder of her lack of control.

When the sacred tea time you both shared came and went without you, Wanda felt a knot in her stomach. A simple tradition, but one that held deep significance for her—a moment of connection, a bubble where the outside world ceased to exist. And you had broken that.

Anger consumed her, a heat rising through her veins and burning away any rationality. It wasn’t fair. She knew that. You hadn’t promised her exclusivity, but her heart screamed otherwise. She hated herself for being so dependent, so vulnerable.

When she finally heard the door open, it was like the eye of a storm. But when she saw you, with your hesitant smile and disarming tone, the anger surged back in full force.

Her anger wasn’t just about you spending the day with someone else. It was about the vulnerability you made her feel, the intensity of her emotions that she couldn’t control. Wanda didn’t want to feel this way, but at the same time, she didn’t want you to be anyone else’s.

“Wanda, this doesn’t make sense,” you said, frustration building. “I love being with you. Why are you acting like this?”

The confession hit Wanda like a shock, but it didn’t extinguish the fire in her eyes. Instead, she took another step toward you, closing the space between you.

“Because I don’t share what’s mine,” she said, her voice low and weighted.

Before you could respond, Wanda gripped your wrist firmly—but not painfully—and pulled you closer, your faces so near you could feel her breath.

“You need to understand something,” she said, her tone so serious it stole your breath. “I’m yours. And you… you’re mine.”

The weight of her words crashed over you like an avalanche, leaving your body tense. Her gaze darkened even further, and before you could process it, her lips captured yours—demanding, possessive.

There was no gentleness in the kiss, only raw intensity and desire. When she finally pulled back, her eyes were blazing, as if the entire world had disappeared and left only the two of you.

Wanda murmured, her tone slightly softer but still brimming with authority. “I think we need a little reminder of who’s in charge here, don’t you?”

Wanda stood in the center of the room, arms crossed over her chest, her piercing gaze fixed on you. The intensity of her eyes made your skin prickle, but her voice remained calm, as if each word was meticulously chosen.

You know you made me furious today," she began, her voice low and controlled but with a sharp edge. "And when I feel this way, we need to address it properly. First of all, what's the safeword?"

"Green to continue, yellow to slow down, and red to stop," you answered in a near whisper, tension pulsing through your body.

She nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Exactly. Now, I want you to know I have no intention of hurting you, but you need to learn not to test my boundaries. Understood?"

"Yes," you replied, your voice trembling slightly.

"Good girl," Wanda said, her tone firm but tinged with a tenderness that made your knees weak. "Now, lie across my lap."

Your breathing quickened, but you obeyed. With trembling fingers, you unbuttoned your pants and slid them down, draping yourself over her lap, your heart pounding in your chest.

Wanda placed her hand gently on your back, stroking your skin in an almost comforting gesture. "We’re going to count together. Each spank, understood?"

"Yes, ma’am," you replied, your tone small and submissive.

“Why are you being punished, Y/n?” she asked, her hand stroking your ass with a firm grip.

Your lower lip trembled as embarrassment washed over you, leaving you feeling exposed.

"I… I didn’t reply to mommy’s messages, and I forgot about our plans together."

"Good girl," Wanda said, already feeling some of her anger dissipate. "Identifying and acknowledging your mistakes is a big step. I’m very proud of you, dekta."

The first spank came swiftly, making you gasp at the initial sting. "One," you said, your voice shaky.

The second was firmer but still controlled. "Two."

As the spanks continued, the heat in your skin grew. Each one was meticulously measured, never crossing the boundaries you both had established. Wanda’s hand was firm, but you knew she was entirely in control.

By the eighth spank, tears began streaming down your face. Your voice quivered as you counted, "Eight."

Wanda immediately paused, her hand resting on your warm skin. "What’s the color?" she asked, her tone now filled with concern.

"Green," you responded between sobs, though she didn’t seem fully convinced. She sighed, stroking your skin gently.

"Are you okay? Do you want to keep going?" The anger that had consumed Wanda earlier seemed to be rapidly dissolving, replaced by a tenderness that made your heart ache.

"I’m okay," you replied, still tearful but sincere. "Please, don’t stop."

Wanda hesitated for a moment before resuming, her hand stroking your back again. "Alright. But I want you to know that, even when I’m upset, my priority is you. I adore you, my girl, and I will never push past your limits."

“N-nine,” you sobbed, feeling the sting radiate through you.

“Ten!” you exclaimed, relieved that it was over. As Wanda pulled you into her arms, you let everything go—all the anger and guilt you had bottled up.

"Shh, my girl," Wanda murmured, running her fingers through your hair. "It’s okay now. I’m here, and I’ll never let anything hurt you. Not even me."

You nodded, still crying softly as the warmth of her presence enveloped you completely. In Wanda’s arms, you knew you were safe.

Wanda felt herself lost in the abyss that was you. It wasn’t love, at least not the romantic, delicate kind people liked to describe. It was something far more visceral, something that clenched her chest like a closed fist and kept her awake at night, suffocated by a need she didn’t know how to satisfy.

You were a throbbing, vivid, uncontrollable obsession. Every smile, every distracted glance was like a spark igniting something primal within her. Wanda found herself lost in mundane moments—washing dishes, folding clothes—and suddenly, she was thinking of you. The sound of your laughter, the way you furrowed your brow when focused, the warmth of your skin beneath her fingers.

She knew this was dangerous. She knew there was a fine line between wanting someone and needing someone. But with you, that line had long been obliterated. It was no longer a matter of choice. You had become a part of her, an extension of her will, and it terrified her.

What scared her most, however, was the power you wielded without even trying. All it took was your absence for the emptiness to settle in her chest like a slow, corrosive sickness. A mere delay was enough for her mind to conjure terrible scenarios, a storm of insecurities and paranoias she couldn’t contain.

And then there was the touch. My God, the touch. When your fingers met hers, it was as though the world around her ceased to exist. There was something possessive about the way Wanda held your hand, as if she feared you might vanish if her grip wasn’t firm enough. And maybe you would vanish, because you weren’t hers—not really—and that was a constant torment.

There were nights when she lay beside Vision, the husband who was supposed to be her anchor, staring at the ceiling with someone else’s name caught on her lips. In those moments, she felt the depth of her dependency. You were like a drug she’d tasted once and could no longer abandon, no matter how hard she tried.

You were her ruin, but also the only thing that made life pulse through her veins again.

And perhaps that was what Wanda feared most: that without you, she wouldn’t be able to feel anything at all.

~*~

UNREVISED CHAPTER

Tag List <3

@vyvvycg @3liyuh @rosekjsses @trindad2k @indentity0018 @beggingonmykneesforher @trying-to-do-good @bees-for-brains

@ctrlaltedits @mbxoxo @jazzyxqzl @sheriffhaughtearp @i-luv-w1men @lesbiansweet @imjustvibingsworld

#mommy wanda #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #lgbtq #lgbtqia #mommy k!nk #elizabeth olsen x reader #mommy k1nk #wanda x you #wlw post #bdsmkink #domestic discipline

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gatorbites-imagines · 2 months ago

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Kinktober day 18

Wade Wilson + Leather/Latex

Readers a spiderman variant of Last stand Spidey, cuz ive been a spideypool fan for years, and cool jacket. I was listening to NSYNC as I wrote this.

2024 kinktober masterlist.

Wade and Logan had never thought they’d stumble upon a spiderman variant of all things in the void. Deadpools, Gambits, Juggernaut and whoever else they stumbled upon, sure. But Spiderman? Savior of the world in many universes spiderman? With great power comes great responsibility spiderman?

Sure, Wade got one of the worst erections of his life when he watched the Spidey whip out a gum, and just blast the head off some variant of The Shocker. His knees almost buckled, Wade almost cumming right then and there. Seeing a Spidey in those tight pants, leggings? Spandex? And a leather jacket, waving around a gun and using it right? That was going right in the spank bank.

The scrunched up disgusted face Logan had, made it obvious that Wades arousal was strong enough for the mutants’ nose to pick it up. But how couldn’t he be so hard his head was swimming? Especially when that Spidey walked towards them, carrying himself with a confidence that spoke of many years of experience.

Why you helped them, even you didn’t know. Maybe it was some part of you that still wanted to be a hero, to help save the universe or whatever. In your own words, you were the worst Spiderman. You were selfish, violent and ruthless, nothing like the light in the dark Spiderman was meant to be. You had hurt your family and loved ones, and killed people who didn’t deserve it, but no part of you felt bad about it.

Hearing this, Wade almost excused himself to go jerk off again for what had to be the tenth time since you partnered up with them. It wasn’t his fault, okay? Spiderman and Deadpool just go together in most universes, you guys were literally soulmates in most universes. You just happened to be real eye candy.

It was surprisingly easy for Wade to talk you into coming with him to his universe. His universe didn’t have a spiderman, obviously he still knew about Spiderman though, he was Deadpool. Logan came along too, but he started grumbling about Wade being a horndog real fast, especially as you bunked with the two as well as Blind Al and Dogpool.

You found it easier than Logan to become part of this world, since there wasn’t really any memories. For Logan it was harder, with the X-men still being alive and all. But Peter Parker and other spider variants didn’t seem to exist. Youd also spent a long time dealing with your problems, so you were even able to get a job.

Guess where you got a job. The Daily Bugle, of course. You were able to snatch a job as a reporter instead of a photographer like you had in your younger days, and somehow you ended up not only befriending Jameson, but becoming one of his go-to reporters. Probably helped that his wife hadn’t died during that robbery, instead she was just injured real bad, but lived.

With your lucrative, or as lucrative as it could get, job, you found your own apartment and moved out, much to Wades despair. He had just started thinking you two were bonding, especially as you had started cleaning your guns together. Wade had even stopped longing for Vanessa, instead turning his attention towards you. and being Deadpool, Wade flirted up a storm, even making jokes about getting a red wig so he could be your Mary Jane.

And yes, Wade stole your spiderman jacket on the regular. You were working a lot, so you wouldn’t notice, right? You wouldn’t notice it being scrubbed clean after hed squirted all over it as he worked himself into a frenzy, huffing the scent of your sweat, gun oil and blood off the leather, right? Of course you noticed, you weren’t stupid, you just… didn’t feel like there was a reason to stop him.

With your new apartment you got to spend more time and space on your hobbies, which just happened to be guns and photography. You were still a spiderman variant after all. you just happened to focus on more than landscape and spiderman pictures, instead you liked taking more extreme or gorey pictures of the latest rogue or villains work, or whatever else crime that was busted around the city.

Wade would giggle and joke about you being some kinda freak as he ogled the pictures too, before turning his eyes to you once more. Wade hung around your place enough to almost live there himself. He had also bled through your couch multiple times, meaning you had to buy a new one semi-regularly.

You even ignored how hed jerk off on your couch when he though you slept, his noises only muffled by your jacket pressed against his face. Wade was pretty bad at hiding it at this point, with you walking into the living room to see him naked from the waist down, dead asleep with your jacket laid over his head. You had a thing for his suit too, so you never said anything. Plus, it did things to your ego…

It took a couple of months before you decided to be spiderman again, wanting to settle yourself before you got into the waves of it all. Plus, the usual spiderman rogues weren’t around in this universe, which meant you just went around dealing with different gangs or high rank criminals.

The X-men also got your help every now and then, even if you didn’t really count as a mutant, whatever that meant. You just knew you weren’t welcome to join their club. Something about you not being born with your powers, and not having the X-gene, meaning you weren’t technically a mutant. Colossus still invited you over for their grill evenings on Fridays though.

What you and Wade had couldn’t be called a relationship or sorts. You guys didn’t kiss, but he jerked off on your couch huffing your scent and licking the leather of your jacket, and you acted like he didn’t. at some point you even started doing the same with his suit, using the leather to jerk your cock and spilling against the insides.

Over time you both grew more confident, or sloppy depending on who you asked. You both stopped cleaning up your messes, leaving your spend all over the others things, meaning you both had to go around carrying the others scent when the mission called for you in a hurry. Logan always looked downright sick when he caught the scent, his nose scrunched up at the hormones wafting off you both.

This kept up for a longer period of time, with neither of you saying anything. Instead just marking the others things in your spend, hell, you had even rutted together on a rooftop, blaming it on “adrenaline of the mission”. The sound of the leather of your jacket and his suit only made it so much hotter, Wades hands grasping at your hips to pull you against him, voice warbly and high pitched from his excitement.

The one time opened the floodgates. That’s when you learned Wade really loved kisses, he especially loved when you kissed him like he wanted to devour him. Wades mouth was always so sloppy when you kissed, his tongue desperately curling around your own as he groaned and gurgled, his hands running up and down your back with need.

He was always so hot, ready for everything you may offer him. Wade had even started opening himself up and finding a red plug to slide home, ready for the moment you decided to fuck him. Of course, he was most excited when the time came and you bent him over some metal storage container in a warehouse, after your latest shared mission.

Wade was shaking in sheer excitement as you rucked his suit down just enough to free his ass, the mutant mercenary giggling and cooing as he waved his hips from side to side. Looking back at you, Wade was ready to finish right then and there, as he watched you open your suit up just enough to free yourself.

He didn’t even get to make a joke about how he plugged himself up for you, your usual patience running out faster than Wade ran his mouth. God, he loved how hard you fucked him, sing that super strength of yours to leave him feeling raw and used in the best way, Wade louder in the bedroom than he was normally, meaning he was almost howling and wailing with want and need.

His words were a slurred mix of begs for more, and some other mashed together comment about how the readers must love this, and how the author sucked at writing dialogue. Like always, you had no idea what he was talking about, instead just putting your hips into it and fucking him harder like he so clearly wanted.

Being a spider variant meant you had little rest period between orgasms, and you had a lot more energy than Wade. Being as backed up as you were, you also just kept fucking him until Wade was almost limp in your arms, his mask finally off his scarred tear and drool-stained face as he tried and failed to beg for more.

Wades cum was sprayed all over the floor and container hed been bent over, pathetic thin spurts shooting out of his tip as you lifted him like he weighed nothing, moving him like a ragdoll as his voice went raspy from all his moaning.

He was kinda cute like this, so fucked out he struggled to form a single thought or word. Especially when he rubbed his face into your jacket, which you had taken off and laid under his head as a pillow. It was only when there truly was nothing more to milk out of him that you decided it was enough and pulled out, cleaning Wade up to the best of your ability.

It was easy to lift him bridal style, letting Wade nuzzle against you and duck his head under your chin. Youd even put your jacket on him, just so he felt some extra safety as you somehow swung you two back to your apartment. You sure hoped none of the X-men had to check out the warehouse later on, it would be hard to live that down…

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fluentmoviequoter · 3 months ago

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A Home to Thrive In

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!neighbor!reader

Summary: You still live next door to Tim Bradford's mother, and when he visits for the first time in years, you have to decide if you're willing to let go of the idea of him you fell in love with.

Warnings: spoilers/rewrite for 4x09 "Breakdown", angst, arguments, discussion of past abuse, r is Tim's childhood friend, fluff and comfort

Word Count: 3.5k+ words

A/N: It's late. This may be terrible. I will reassess tomorrow.

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info

“Have you talked to Mom recently?” Genny asks. When Tim doesn’t answer, she sighs and murmurs, “Don’t know why I thought you would.”

“Isn’t it bad enough that you’re dragging me back into the Tom Bradford-centric world I’ve been trying to outrun since we were kids? Now you want me to tell Mom about everything that’s happened,” Tim argues. “I’m already working on a murder case that Dad hid for decades. I don’t need more family drama right now, Genny."

“She worries about you, Tim. Just wants to be part of your life again.”

Tim's phone rings, a saving grace, and he excuses himself as he pushes his chair away from the table and leaves his sister.

“Tim,” Lucy greets. “I brought Monica Ochoa back in.”

“The woman who was killed by the gun I found in my dad’s house. Why?”

“Because I knew there was more to her story. You- you couldn’t see past the version that you wanted to see.”

“What’d she say?”

“Your dad… Tim, Monica confessed.”

Tim hangs up on Lucy, walks directly past his sister while ignoring her questions, and gets in his truck to visit his dad. To see if he’ll tell the truth when he has no other choice or if he’s really the terrible man Tim thinks he is.

“You didn’t kill Frank,” Tim states.

Tom sighs before he counters, “Sure I did. Now, come on. Cuff me. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Monica confessed.”

“Leave her out of this.”

“Frank was beating her. She fought back. She shot him. She was terrified, so she ran to you. You came up with the burglary story, helped her stage the house, then you hid the gun in case the cops got too close, and you needed to frame someone else.”

“He was brutal, abusive,” Tom explains. “She deserves a medal for what she did.”

“He was abusive?” Tim repeats.

“What? You think I’m like him? I was nothing like Frank. I taught you what you needed to know, son. You’re a man now because of me.”

“No. I’m who I am in spite of you,” Tim replies. His dad doesn’t speak, and Tim nods as he adds, “Goodbye, Dad. I hope it hurts.”

In the hallway outside his dad’s room, Tim pulls his phone from his pocket and calls Grey.

“Bradford,” Wade greets as the call connects.

“I need to take some personal time,” Tim says instead of a salutation.

“Lord knows you’ve stashed up enough of it. Where are you going?”

“To see someone I should’ve visited a long time ago.”

“You did the right thing, Tim. Take your time and know we’re here for you when you get back.”

Tim ends the call, then texts his sister that he’s taking her advice. He hasn’t been home to his mom’s house in years, and he needs her, needs space from his family and his station, and needs to work through the events of the week on his own. Though he isn’t sure if he’s welcome or if his mother's new home will feel the same as it did fifteen years ago, Tim gets in his truck and drives toward the last place he felt at home.

Your evening walk is refreshing, and the sunset helps you focus on the beauty of the day as you wind down.

“Sweetheart!” your neighbor calls, waving from her porch.

“Mrs. Bradford,” you greet with a smile as you step onto her walkway. “How are you today?”

“Good, good. Talked to Genny earlier, she’s visiting Tim.”

You smile and nod, unwilling to touch the sensitive subject of Tim. Growing up with him, you saw the worst parts of his childhood, home life, and father, but that never added up to you. He ran away from his mother, from love and home just to outrun bad memories. A task you know to be impossible.

“How was your book?” you ask, moving away from Mrs. Bradford’s stressful family life. “Did you finish it last night?”

“I did. You were right, the twist at the end was a shock. I thought the vigilante did it!”

“Interesting,” you muse. “I was torn between him and the builder.”

Mrs. Bradford hums before her oven beeps.

“You take care of that,” you say as you wrap your arms over her shoulders in a quick hug. “We’ll talk about the book and start the sequel on Saturday?”

“Count on it. Have a good night!”

“You too!”

Headlights reflect off your front door as you push it open, but you don’t bother to turn around and see who it is. Two of your neighbors get home around this time, and there aren’t many visitors or tourists in your area. So, when you’re closing the curtains and notice an unfamiliar truck in Mrs. Bradford’s driveway, you decide to watch and ensure everything is okay.

“Tim!” Mrs. Bradford calls excitedly as the driver’s door opens. She rushes out and pulls him into a hug, and from the way he grips her and buries his face against her shoulder like he’s eight again, you know that this isn’t just a sorry I stopped calling, Mom visit. Something happened and that’s the only reason he’s home.

“Welcome home, Tim,” you whisper before you pull the curtains together and put the distance you’re used to back between you and Tim.

You kneel by your front door to tie your shoes. Then you untie them and loop the laces differently. Knowing that Tim Bradford is next door makes you hesitate to go outside. Yet, you don’t want to let him impact your life more than he already has. It wouldn’t be surprising to learn that his mother already told him about your downward spiral, how you fell apart when he left without so much as a word. As a kid, you fell in love with Tim Bradford, and you stayed in love with the idea of him in high school. Then, when he disappeared without a word or trace, and you only found out that he was a cop for the LAPD through his sister, you decided that the idea of him was as good as you would ever get.

“You can do this,” you tell yourself as you stand and lay your hand on the doorknob. “It’s just the man who has occupied your every thought for years. Just walk by.”

The magnitude of your mistake hits you in full force when you’re nearly past Mrs. Bradford’s fence. Tim says your name and your heart clenches at the realization that you remembered his voice so well. Years of hearing it in your dreams will preserve your memory like that.

“Tim,” you reply, swallowing as you face him. “I didn’t know you were coming home.”

“It wasn’t exactly the plan. Genny showed up and everything just kind of blew up in my face.”

Kind of like what you put me through, you think. Rather than saying it, you nod sympathetically.

“Did my mom… did she tell you about my dad?”

“Tim, your mom tells me a lot. But no one close to your mom has brought him up in years.”

“Wish my sister had gotten that message,” Tim scoffs.

“I hope you enjoy the time with your mom,” you interrupt. “But I’ve got to get going.”

“Right,” Tim agrees. “I’ll see you around.”

You nod but feel your chest tighten as you hope he’s wrong. Losing Tim Bradford again is not an option, so you refuse to let him closer than he needs to be.

“I didn’t know she moved with you, still lived next door,” Tim muses as his mother ushers him inside for breakfast.

“You don’t know much,” she points out, not unkindly but not untrue. “She knows more than you. I’ve told her everything Genny passed along. You were so close as kids.”

“Yeah,” Tim agrees before he trails off. He remembers being friends, but not the kind of friends that would ask about each other. “I don’t think she wants to talk to me.”

“Well, you can hardly blame her.”

“What does that mean?”

Tim’s mother looks at him and presses her lips together. He has her eyes, but he doesn’t have her understanding or the intuition about people she tried to instill in him when his father wasn’t trying to teach him to be a man.

“If you can’t see it, Tim, it’s too late to explain it. She’s coming over for lunch and our duet book club tomorrow. You have thirty hours to read the book if you want to participate.”

“Thank you for letting me come home, Mom.”

She lays her hand on Tim’s shoulder and promises, “You’re always welcome here, Timothy.”

You knock on Mrs. Bradford’s door while Tim’s truck is gone. With one of her signature ceramic loaf pans in your hands, filled with your favorite cookies, you wait for the door to open to return her dish and offer some goodies.

“Sorry to…” you begin as the door opens. “Oh, Tim. Sorry, your truck was gone so I assumed your mom would be here.”

“She borrowed my truck to do something that she refused to have help for. Come on in.”

Tim opens the door for you, and for reasons beyond your comprehension, you accept his invitation and walk inside. After you set the pan on the counter, you turn around to leave, but Tim is leaning against the table and watching you.

“Enjoying your time off?” you question, wringing your fingers together behind your back.

“I am. Especially after the last case I worked on,” Tim answers. “My mom hasn’t told me much about you.”

You hum and look at your feet as you reply, “Not much to tell.”

“She seems to tell you a lot.”

“Look, Tim, I’m just trying to respect your boundaries. She told me that your dad was involved in something, a murder, but it’s not my business.”

“Frank Ochoa,” Tim interjects.

You furrow your brows as you ask, “Monica’s husband? But that was a robbery.”

Tim tilts his head to the side as he says, “My dad admitted to killing him. He was protecting Monica.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and nod.

“But you knew that, didn’t you?”

“What?”

Tim stands from the table, his crossed arms falling to his sides. “You knew something and didn’t tell anybody, didn’t you?”

“Tim, I-“

“Look, I’ve been lied to by too many people this week. You still have the same tell you did in elementary school. What did you know?”

You clench your jaw and step to the right to go around Tim, but he moves to block you, and rather than running into his chest, you retreat further into Mrs. Bradford’s kitchen.

“This case – the people there – have been lied to, we’ve been wrong, there’s been no justice for decades. And you’ve known something the whole time? How can you live with that?”

“How can I live with it?” you repeat incredulously. “How was I – a child, Tim – supposed to go to the police and tell them that I saw Frank beating Monica over and over? They wouldn’t have believed me!”

“You didn’t try!”

“Yes, I did!” you yell. Wiping the single tear that managed to escape in your memories of the only time you tried to help your neighbors, you lose some of your fight.

“Doesn’t seem like you tried very hard,” Tim adds under his breath.

You laugh once and shake your head. “I told the police your dad was beating you, Tim. You know what happened? They came and asked him about it. He denied everything. After they left, he took you out into the backyard and demanded to know who you told. So, see if you can wrap your cop brain about why I was scared to tell on someone else.”

“I didn’t know you-“

“You didn’t know anything, Tim.”

Tim scoffs and argues, “Oh and you know so much about who I am now because of what my sister tells my mom?”

“At least I talk to your mom, Tim,” you snap. Immediately, you regret it. “I’m sorry,” you offer.

“I couldn’t,” Tim defends.

“Did you try?”

Tim’s truck rumbles as his mother returns from the store, and you hold Tim’s stare until the engine shuts off.

“Can I leave now, or do you want to blame me for something else?”

Tim steps back and opens his mouth, but you storm past him before he can say anything else. You return to your house after you hug Mrs. Bradford and tell her about the cookies. The idea of Tim Bradford that you’ve clung to since childhood is growing fuzzy around the edges, and alone in your house, you cry over what he told you today, the mistakes you made, and the loss of the Tim you were born to love.

Someone knocks on your door the following morning, and you stare at it rather than walking toward it.

“Sweetheart, it’s me,” Mrs. Bradford calls.

With a sigh, you stand and invite her in, not caring if she notices your teary eyes or unusual attitude.

“I thought you might want someone to talk to. Somewhere away from my son,” she explains as she leads you to your dining table. “So, I brought food and company. Choose what you want.”

“It’s not just Tim,” you explain. “I mean… he was right, but it’s different.”

“Different than when you fell in love with him?” she guesses.

You look up at her, wide-eyed at her question. She smiles and gestures for you to continue.

“I’ve been dreaming about him coming back, thinking that we could pick up where we left off, but he’s nothing like what I remember.”

“Time will do that,” she soothes, taking your hand over the table.

“It didn’t do it to me.”

“Sweetheart… you didn’t let it. I love you, you know that, but you cling so tightly to the past, to the familiar, that you haven’t allowed yourself to adapt to the beauty of the growth and changes around you. Haven’t even let yourself show the woman you’ve become.”

You lick your lips before sniffling and asking, “What if I don’t like it?”

“But what if you thrive in it?”

Wiping the back of your free hand across your face, you clear your tears and nod. You know that Mrs. Bradford is right, but you also know that there will be pain in the beauty when you choose to move forward.

“Does he hate me?” you whisper.

“Timothy? I don’t think he could ever hate you.”

“He can sure blame me for a lot, though,” you point out with a wet laugh.

“Beating himself up over that at the moment, if you’re wondering. And, when you’re ready to talk to him, maybe you should try getting to know who he is today.”

You nod and pull a homemade candy from her special-made meal. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. Now, are we going to keep crying over silly boys or try to solve a murder mystery on a pioneer plantation?”

Dressed in your favorite outfit, you shift from foot to foot on Mrs. Bradford’s porch as you try to get your courage up. Just as you lift your hand to knock, a throat clears behind you. You spin around quickly, then release a breath and press your hand over your racing heart.

“You could have told me you were back there sooner,” you point out softly.

“I wanted to see where this was going,” Tim answers, closing his tailgate. “Listen, about the other day-“

You raise your hand to silence Tim and shake your hand. “I came over here to talk to you. About more than that. Do you maybe want to go somewhere to do that?”

Tim nods and opens the passenger door of his truck, offering his hand as he helps you in without a word. The drive to the local high school football field is quick but silent, and when you exit the truck and join Tim on the tailgate to watch the sunset, you take a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that with your dad, the house, Frank, all that,” you begin. “But I’m sorrier that I didn’t do more back then.”

Tim nods and says, “You were right. They wouldn’t have listened, or it would’ve spooked my dad and made everything worse.”

“I guess we’ll never know.” You look at Tim’s profile and ask, “Are you okay?”

“No,” he admits without hesitation. “My dad was protecting Monica. He never did anything to protect us, but his mistress – broke half a dozen laws for her.”

“I knew that, too,” you whisper. “My mom made me stop sitting by the door after that year, which was probably a good thing. Uhm, are they going to prosecute your dad?”

“No. Not on his death bad. But it doesn’t matter. He’ll get judged soon enough.”

You nod, your eyes still on Tim rather than the pink sunset before you. His eyes have teared up, and everything inside of you begs for you to just let go.

“Tim, you’re nothing like him. You know that, right?”

Tim nods a tiny movement that breaks your heart. This isn’t the Tim you remember, not the Tim from elementary school or the one who was punished for your ill-conceived attempt to help. Most importantly, you realize, this isn’t the Tim you’ve dreamed of loving. Tim Bradford, the man before you, is who you can love, want to love, and desperately, wholly, devastatingly need to love.

With a deep breath, you release everything you’ve been holding onto. Your grip on your dreams, on your memory of Tim and what you thought you wanted, and the moment that trapped you in your position of being terrified to do the wrong thing in your efforts to do good weakens, and you feel like a flower in bloom. Everything seems new, the possibilities are endless, and you’re a new person who isn’t afraid to do right, even when it terrifies you and carries the potential to break your heart.

“Tim,” you whisper.

He turns toward you, drawn by the tone in your voice, and blinks past his tears. You shift on his tailgate and raise your arms toward his shoulders. Tim leans forward and meets you halfway, pulling you into his lap as you collapse into a hug that heals the broken edges of who you are. With Tim’s arms against your back and waist, you feel more at home than ever, and he feels the same. His mother’s house was never the home he was returning to, but a pursuit for this feeling, right in your arms.

“I’m so sorry,” you murmur against his shoulder.

He shakes his head, tightening his grip on you, and this version of you - unafraid, complete in Tim Bradford’s arms - is ready to thrive. You won’t heal overnight; neither of you will, but it’s a start.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and Tim laughs against your neck before he pulls back gently to retrieve his phone from his pocket.

“My mom,” he tells you. “If you haven’t kissed her yet, what are you waiting for? Another set of wrinkles?”

You fail to stop the laugh that escapes at Mrs. Bradford’s bluntness. Then, you realize how glad you are that he’s reading her text messages.

“Well?” you ask. “Should we kiss or wait for more wrinkles?”

Tim pushes a stray hair out of your face and promises, “None of it was your fault.”

You nod and thank him, then brush your thumbs against his cheeks. “Last time we were on a field together, it was raining. I also wanted you to kiss me then.”

“You never told me.”

“How was I supposed to tell you that, Tim?” you ask. “I… I was caught up in an idea of who we could be, and I was scared to ruin it by doing something new.”

“And now?”

Rather than asking for what you want, you take it as you lean forward and kiss Tim. One of his hands moves to the back of your neck, and the first raindrop feels suspiciously like a teardrop as it runs down your face and onto Tim’s. You laugh as you run toward the truck doors, thunder rumbling as a storm approaches from the west. In the truck with Tim, you find yourself face-to-face with a better version of the dream life you craved in Tim’s absence.

Bonus:

“Get inside, it’s going to start raining again!” Mrs. Bradford calls from the kitchen when she hears the door open. “Don’t need you catching a cold on your time off, Timothy.”

You press your lips together and smile at Tim, who is drenched after offering you his jacket to hold over your head in a poor attempt to stay somewhat dry.

“She’s going to mother you, too,” he points out.

“Hey, I’m used to it,” you reply. “Like it, even.”

“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Bradford murmurs as she appears in the doorway. “Go get dried off and change, Tim.”

After he disappears into his room, Mrs. Bradford offers you a towel and a change of clothes. She smiles as she leans in and says, “Flowers that thrive need plenty of rain to grow, you know.”

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #tim bradford fic #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford #fem!reader #hanna writes✯#the rookie #the rookie x reader #the rookie abc

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gallavichsreddie1128 · 9 months ago

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I Fucked Your Wife (Hannibal Lecter)

Description: Will's Wife and Hannibal do the unspeakable while he's in prison.

Warnings: Smut, Cheating

Word Count: 2,574k

I made a Will version of this if you're interested:

She loved Will, she really did. She’s loved him since they were kids. She couldn’t imagine life without him. They’ve been through everything together, the worst and the best. They were what people considered Soulmates. When Will started having these bad dreams and woke up in a pile of sweat she was there beside him to comfort him. She always told him that his job was too much at times but he never listened. The man needed a break but could never get one. When Hannibal came along all these things started getting worse. It was like Hannibal was making Will’s dreams and visions worse. He was a physiatrist but Y/N felt like he didn’t do much helping. She saw the way Hannibal talked to him and it sickened her. This was no good man. She never missed the way Hannibal’s eyes would travel down her body like he wanted to eat her, or the way he talked to her with seduction in his voice.

When she’d bring it up to Will he shrugged it off and told her that Hannibal also spoke to him like that and even looked at him like that. She felt that Will didn’t care. When he was arrested she couldn’t believe it. She grew up with this man, hell she even married him, there was no way he killed all those people. She thought it was Hannibal. But she seemed to be alone in this. With Will being behind bars she had nobody. She needed support but didn’t know where to go for it. The knock on the door startled her as the dogs began barking. She got up and opened the door to see the man she hated more than anything else. “I came to check up on you. I figured you needed it.” He said holding a bottle of wine. She shook her head. “I don’t need anything from you.” She told him and went to close the door but his foot stopped it. “This is a gift.” He said, giving her the wine. “If you ever need to talk please come and see me Y/N. I know this can’t be easy for you and nobody deserves to go through these things alone.” She thought about what he said. He was right. Nobody deserved to go through this alone.

As she drank the wine that he gave her she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe it would be best to talk to him. After all Will did but then look where that got him. She felt like Hannibal influenced Will and nobody wanted to believe that. It made her feel stupid when they found no evidence against him. All the evidence was on Will and that thought alone made her sick. It was then she decided that she would talk to Hannibal.

They sat in his office in pure silence. She arrived 10 minutes ago and no words were spoken. She didn’t know what to say. She truly thought the man before her killed all these people but nothing backed it up. He looked at the woman and observed her and how she sat. She sat with one leg over the other and played with her fingernails. She looked up at him from time to time. “Well, is there anything you would like to talk about? I take it that’s why you came here.” He said. She shook her head and stopped playing with her nails. For the first time she looked up at him. “I don’t know why I'm here, Hannibal.” She said. “I mean I truly believe that you’re the one killing all these people but yet all the evidence is on my husband.” She tells him. “So you think I'm the Chesapeake Ripper?” He asked her. “I-I think you manipulated my husband and all his dark thoughts are because of you. If he did kill someone you helped him.” He stares at her as she tells him how she felt.

She was too smart for her own good. “So you think I'm a monster?” He asked. She nodded. “Will didn’t act like this until you came along. You may have everyone else fooled but not me.” It was laughable to him the way she talked. He could kill her right now and she knew that but yet had no fear. “I don’t believe Will did those killings.” He told her. “If he did he wasn’t aware of it anyways.” “You’re telling me that so I stop degrading you.” She says, shaking her head. “Y/N I don’t care what you think about me. That’s not why you came. You came because you know I’m right about not having to suffer alone.” “I don’t know why I'm here.” She tells him. “Do you love Will?” He asked her. “Yes.” She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Do you truly believe he is innocent?” “He’s my husband he wouldn’t do that-” “That wasn’t the question. Do you think your husband is innocent?” She looked down at her lap. “I don’t know.” She whispered but he heard her. “Evidence suggests that he did. But I know him and he isn’t like that.” She says tears are forming in her eyes. “You may not know your husband like you think you do Y/N.” She looks at him with a glare. “He is my patient after all.” He states. “But you can’t tell me anything you guys have talked about.” She states like that comment was pointless. “No I can’t but you need to accept that you may be wrong about him.” She looked down again. He stands up and walks over to her. “I know it’s hard but I am here for you truly.” He said rubbing her shoulder.

She looked up at him with tears streaming down her face. For the first time ever she sees how handsome he is. He didn’t have a dark look in his eyes but pity. Maybe she was wrong about him and maybe she needed to accept that her husband killed those people. “Denial is very common in these cases.” She doesn’t say anything to him as she stands up. They’ve never been this close before. He tucked her hair behind her ear as she stared up at him unsure of everything. She clears her throat and excuses herself. He watches her leave his office and has the feeling it wouldn’t be the last time he’d see her.

She tossed and turned trying to sleep. She hadn’t been able to sleep much since Will was arrested. She kept replaying everything Hannibal said to her as she tried to stop imagining him. He put some sort of spell on her and it was affecting her. After 20 minutes of non stop tossing and turning she shot up. She couldn’t stand it anymore and got out of bed. She looked for her shoes and put them on. She grabbed the car keys and left the house. She got in the car and left the house and drove to Hannibal’s.

She couldn’t believe she was doing this but had no choice. She was hoping the man was still up not thinking of how late it was. As she pulled up to his house she sat in the car for a moment and really thought. Was this about to happen? Did she really think that this would help her? She got out of the car and walked up to his house. She let out the heavy breath she was holding and knocked on his door. He opened it a minute later and saw Y/N looking very stressed at his door. She looked up at him and sighed. “I couldn’t sleep.” She tells him and he steps aside to let her in.

He pours 2 glasses of wine and hands her one. She drinks it fast and sits in down. “Are you okay?” He asked her. She shook her head. “No I’m not. You-You were right.” She tells him. He looks at her and nods. “About Will?” He asked. “Everything. I mean I truly don’t know him if he killed those people. I guess I am in denial. And maybe I was wrong about you.” She says looking at him. He sets down the wine glass and walks closer to her. She steps closer to him and he cups her face. “You’re so beautiful.” He says and she sighs.

This wasn’t right. She loved Will but in this very moment she didn’t wanna think about him. He leaned down slowly and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. He lifted her body on the table as the kiss became heavier. Her hands laced through his hair pulling slightly as his lips left hers. He began kissing her neck, soft sucking and biting. She let out a shaking breath as he sucked on her sweet spot. Her hands traveled down to his shirt and pulled on it. He pulled away from her neck and took off the shirt. Her eyes widened at the sight. He had the perfect body. He was built and big. He saw the awe in her eyes as she stared at him. He lifted her head with his finger and kissed her again. This time her hands traveled all over his torso. He pulled away from the kiss to help her take her shirt off. She wasn’t wearing a bra given the time it was. He cupped her breasts and she threw her head back at the foreign feeling of his hands.

He pulled away to pull down his pants and boxers leaving him bare before her. She was too caught in staring at him and that startled her when he pushed her back on the table. She was now laying face up. He untied her Pj bottoms and pulled them back leaving her in nothing. She didn’t wear panties to bed either. He looked down at the sight of her bare pussy dripping all over his counter. “Hannibal please.” She begged as she bucked her hips looking for some sort of relief. He started playing with her clit with his thumb. She gasped out feeling his thick thumb mess with her. Her hips moving up. With each movement of her hips she moaned a beautiful loud moan that made him harder than he was before. Her eyes closed as she enjoyed the pleasure. Her juices dripped and gushed out as he sped up his movement. “Hannibal.” She breathed out.

She reached down to grab his arm and keep it in place as she humped his hand. Her beautiful sounds got louder and her breathing turned to panting. She was close. He watched as she fucked herself and whined as her climax was right there. But he wanted her to cum all over cock. He pulled his hand away and she sighed and opened her eyes. He smirked and pulled her closer to him where they lined up. “The first time I make you cum will be on my cock, the second time will be on my face.” He tells her. He lines himself up with her entrance and pushes in. She gasps as he stretches her out. He was so much bigger than Will. She was so wet and tight. She felt perfect. His hips slowly moved in and out of her. She was moaning hard and he wasn’t even really fucking her yet. His hands placed on her hips and hers moving everywhere. “Hannibal faster.” She whined. He started slamming into her making her scream his name. Her noises didn’t stop and he let out a groan.

He watched as her body moved as he pounded into her hard. Her eyes closed and her hair spread around her like a halo. She felt herself get closer and closer as the pleasure became intense. She was screaming his name over and over as he fucked her so good. She cliched around him and he let out a “fuck.” his climax being close to. “Hannibal I wanna ride you. “ She gets out between moans and screams. The man stops his movements and switches places with her. He helps her onto the table and on him. She sinks down on him and whines. “Fuck you’re so big and deep.” She cries.

Her hips started thrusting and he had a death grip on her hips. She didn’t care as she felt too good. The sight of her bouncing on top of him was a sight he wouldn’t ever forget. For once in his life he was jealous that Will got to see this all the time. Her panting had little whines with them as she felt her climax building back up. He saw this and gripped her throat. “Are you gonna cum for me?” He asked her. She nodded and let out a screeching yes. “Cum for me.” He groaned.

She let out the loudest moan she was able to as she came. Her hips stuttered and he came as well with a groan. He watched as she rode her high. Her hips don’t stop moving as she moans softly now enjoying her orgasm.

His hand rubbed her cheek as she let out a little whimper and collapsed on him. He sighed and wrapped his arms around her. His hands rubbing her back as she calmed down from the best orgasm she’s ever had. “I told you that you’d be cumming on my face.” He said and she sat up. He pulled her hips to hover over his face. He pulled her down to where she was sitting on his face. He smelled her juices and his as they leaked out of her. His tongue lapped up her juices as she let out a moan at the feeling. His hands moved her hips over his face as he ate her pussy. She grabbed his hair and cried his name. Actual tears of pleasure streamed down her face. She’s never felt this good before and the noises she made told him that. He watched her as she humped his face and played with her boobs. Her breathing started to pick up again and she gasped as she felt her second orgasm approach her. “Ohhhh Hannibal.” She moaned loudly as she came all over his face. She was sobbing as she rode out her high. He lapped it up and she pulled away from the sensitivity “Holy shit.” She said and laughed.

She looked around and rubbed her face. “You really know how to please a woman.” She tells him and laughs. He smirks at that. “You’re a very noisy little thing.” He tells her. Her face becomes red with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry-” “Don’t apologize beautiful. It was hot. You’ve never came like that before, have you?” He asked her. She didn’t answer but the look on her face gave it away. Hannibal truly was the best fuck she’s ever had.

Will’s face was red as he listened to the audio Hannibal played for him. His wife was making the nastiest most pornographic sounds ever. He listened with a straight face but the part that set his plan to kill Hannibal in stone was the aftermath. “You really know how to please a woman.” “It was hot. You’ve never came like that before. Have you?” The silence was loud to him and he wouldn’t stop at nothing to put Hannibal in the ground.

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #mads mikkelsen #hannibal x reader #Hannibal lector x reader #hannibal smut #hannibal imagine #will graham #hugh dancy #mads mikklesen x reader

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m0nnypie · 2 months ago

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hii! can you write something similar to ur dating deku but ur bkg’s sister but flipped? as in dating bkg but being deku’s sister <3 thank u!!

SORRY FOR BEING SO LATE! I was so busy that I forgot to post this 😭😭😭 but here it is!!! Hope u likeee it

DATING KATSUKI (BEING DEKU'S SIS)

Warnings: just Katsuki being his usual stupid, 'n Deku a brother who love u a lot.

Bro!Deku x Sis!reader, Katsuki Bakugou x fem!reader

_ Well, everyone knows that you've known each other since you were kids. I mean, if Katsuki was Deku's friend, how could he not know you?

_ Your relationship was good, I mean, he was what you called a hero. Silly, right? But can you blame kids? They always see the good side of things. And that's how it was with the blond. You saw him as someone who, despite being a bit temperamental, was your knight in shining armor. He protected you from bad people, he was a true hero, as you said.

_ But of course that changed. You presented your quirk, about a month after him. You were happy, you played together more, you tried to figure out how your quirk worked, great, right? But over time, you could tell that he was developing a feeling of revulsion, maybe? For your beloved brother.

_ You were worried, I mean. It was already past the normal time for people to develop their quirk, and so far your brother hasn't shown any sign of having one. So, when your mother came back from the doctor, you saw her crying, you saw your brother crying. Your first instinct was to run to Katsuki. But as soon as you told him, you saw something change in his eyes.

_ It didn't take long for you to find out that your brother was being bullied, you wanted to kill whoever was doing it. And to your surprise, it was your precious friend Katsuki. Of course, when you asked him why, he said something like "he's scum, that's what he deserves for being born that way" "you're lucky to have a quirk, or you would have to join your brother". After that, you beat him up so much that you had to have about 3 teachers separate you from Bakugou.

_ You warned him many times to stay away from Izuku, but he never listened. You always ended up getting into a lot of fights. Fights that drove your brother crazy with worry, because you always ended up getting hurt. But no matter how many times Izuku asked you to stop, you always said that you would rather die than let anyone touch your brother.

_ It didn't take long for you to go to U.A. What surprised you was your brother's quirk. You just figured he was a late bloomer, that's all. Meanwhile, you could see the blond fuming with rage, not that you cared.

_ On the first day, as soon as you met for the first time, you stared at each other for long minutes. You could tell there was something more in the way he looked at you, something he wanted to say. But he simply stopped looking at you and bumped into your shoulder. Making you angry.

_ The day he was kidnapped, you had a panic attack. The only person who knows about it is Uraraka, she was the one who helped you calm down. You also went with him to save Katsuki, even though your brother didn't think it was safe. You just wanted your old friend to be okay, that's all.

“(Name) I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go along…it could be dangerous.”

You understood him, really. He was worried, but he had recently discovered his own quirk. You’ve had yours for years, you trained for it.

“Izuku, I trained for years to get into U.A, and Katsuki is someone who has been part of my life for years…you’re not going to be the one to stop me from going to save him.”

He could see the desperation in your eyes, but he was so afraid of something happening to you. He knew that if he didn’t let you go along, you would find a way to go there. So he simply accepted.

_ After saving him, nothing really changed. He was still the same arrogant guy he always was. You often fought, being separated by Kirishima, your brother, or Aizawa. You often got lectured for it.

_ Because you fought a lot, you were often paired up to improve your companionship. And it never worked out, because one moment Aizawa was watching you, and the next he saw Katsuki blowing your face off, and you punching him in the face and pulling his hair.

_ Over time, you learned to live together again. It wasn't that you were best friends, you still fought a lot. But your relationship with him improved to the point where you could work with him without strangling him to death. Not that you didn't want to.

_ The rest of the year was hard for all of you. After Katsuki basically died, and you almost passed away due to a punctured lung, you changed completely.

_ He even apologized to you, which certainly surprised you. But you forgave him, you didn't see any point in resenting him anymore, not after what happened. You started spending a lot more time together after that.

_ Which didn't last long, because Izuku wouldn't let you go. It's not that he didn't trust Bakugou, he just...cared about you. And of course, his clinginess irritated you, which made you fight.

_ As strange as it may seem, it was Katsuki who comforted you, in his own way of course. He basically gave you a portion of the spicy food he had made for himself, and kept telling you how stupid it was for you to cry over stupidity. Neither of you knew it, but that day something more blossomed between you.

_ At first, you only went out together in the company of others, never alone. That changed when you had to do the dorm shopping. You realized that it was much nicer to be alone than to hang out with others. Not that you didn't like them, but everything was so much simpler when it was just with the blond. You liked the comfortable silence between you, as well as the common taste for many things.

_ So, from the end of the second year, you started going out more. Obviously, this didn't go unnoticed by the green-haired boy. Once, he even followed you with the help of Uraraka, Mina and Denki. What went wrong, because Katsuki got angry and blew them up, and you stayed in the corner eating your ice cream, because if you had Bakugou to do the dirty work, why lift a finger?

_ You were as close now as you were when you were kids. When you started calling him by his first name again, even though he wouldn't admit it to himself, he died of nervousness inside. I mean... that should mean something, right?

_ You went on an official date, only after the end of school. Because even though you two were developing feelings that you were too cowardly to admit, you two wanted to focus on the goal of becoming heroes.

_ In the 4 years after U.A, you had a few relationships. Nothing that would leave a big mark on your life, but it certainly did leave a mark on Bakugou's life.

_ When you were 19, you started to distance yourself a little from him. Obviously, this didn't go unnoticed by him. He hated doing it, but he went to your brother to ask why. And when he heard that you were dating, he was (????). How come you were dating? Oh, for some reason he hated your boyfriend.

_ He saw every breakup you had, not that you were close enough for him to know how you felt. But Mina would make everyone go out for drinks, watch a movie, or even stay home, to support you because of the breakup.

_ At 22, a month after your breakup, everything was great, until it wasn't. You were on one of your daily patrols, until by chance you ended up running into your ex-boyfriend, the one who made your life hell when you were dating.

_ You did everything you could to make him go away, and as much as you wanted to send him to hell and beat him up, you couldn't. That's because your PR team would kill you. But like a demon disguised as an angel, Katsuki showed up.

_ He simply came up to you, asking if you were excited about your date today. And to make it even better, he pulled your waist close to his. And of course, he looked at your ex with that mocking face.

_ Then it was hard to explain to your PR team that this was a mistake. Which was denied by Katsuki who said he would take you on a date. He said that, and left you there, open-mouthed along with your team.

_ Of course Mina FREAKED OUT about it. She seemed more excited than you. She literally arranged everything, chose your outfit, hair and everything she thought would look good on you.

_ The date was great, it was at a small spicy food restaurant that you used to go to back in U.A., and of course your fans and his went crazy, that place was packed the next day.

_ One date became two, which became three and then became many. You missed going out with Katsuki, and so did he. Anyone who looked at you could say that you two had never seen so happy in each other's company.

_ It's obvious that your brother didn't like it much at first, not that he didn't trust Katsuki!! But after you had your heart broken several times... he was afraid. He even threatened Katsuki that if he hurt you, he would end ruin hid life (Katsuki took it seriously, especially since you were Deku's sister).

_ After 7 months, you were finally dating. Even though your friends thought you should just get together, you thought it was better to get to know each other again. And it was amazing, every moment. The kiss shared under the cherry tree you used to climb as children, the wonderful meals Katsuki made, every moment you had with him was incredible.

_ At 27, all of his fans found out he was married. That's because, after being away for 3 months and then coming back with a ring in his hand, they started to suspect, and he confirmed it.

_ As strange as it seemed, you wanted to keep the relationship under wraps for a while. You wanted to be able to enjoy each other, without anyone getting involved. And finally, the day you revealed you were married, it was a mess. Your PR team, certainly hate you guys.

_ Of course you had the support of all your friends. All of them talking about you in interviews. Especially Deku, who talked about you as if he were talking about angels (?), he loved to say how much Katsuki loved you, and how even in front of everyone he was rude and annoying, when he was with you he was a cute little cinnamon roll (he freaked out with Deku after that), and also how amazing you were, that you always supported him, and that he knew that if you were there, Katsuki would be in good hands.

_ You loved him, even though he was often complicated and extremely annoying and stupid. And he loved you, even though he often tried to distance himself, even though he tried to run away from love. Your 'n his greatest achievement was your relationship.

HEYYYY! if y'all like it, I can do a fic with the part that bakugou says to reader about the date, then I'll do gender neutral if y'all prefer

#bnha fanfiction #bakugou katsuki #bnha #bnha fic #bnha x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha x fem!reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader

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tbgkaru-woh · 11 months ago

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100 Dialogue prompts

Trying this out (feel free to tweak out any grammatical errors) so writers who are bored, have at it! ♥ Mix of Fluff, Angst and Smut

“I don’t see you that way”

“I will just do as I’m told. As I’ve always done”

“Have you never ridden a bike/horse before?”

“You don’t have to be so…formal”

“What happened to us?”

“Good things don’t happen to me”

“Interested in palm reading?”

“Bowing to you felt right”

“There, let me help you.”

“Next time, listen to yourself and not me”

“Why do you want to get in trouble so badly?”

“It’s him/her…isn’t it?”

“Are you keeping it?”

“Good to see a familiar face”

“You never had to ask me anything, let alone beg”

“Oh you again?!”

“I need to take you somewhere”

“With you gone, everything went wrong”

“Insufferable, see you at dinner”

“I wasn’t kissing you, I was saving your life!”

“You did all this already, why not finish the job?”

“I will look for you”

“I couldn’t see anything, I couldn’t breathe”

“You knew about it?”

“I will atone for what he/she did”

“You need to start having some faith.”

“Say what you want, I know what I’m feeling is right”

“It’s okay, you will move on. We will move on.”

“How much do you miss him/her? And what if you didn’t have to?”

“Focus on my hands, on my voice…”

“Perhaps you need to be reminded where you belong”

“I was fine having a non-sexual relationship with you, but instead I’m having non-relationship sex with him/her.”

“I wanted to do it for you and in hindsight it was a terrible idea”

“I’ve been inside him/her more than outside him/her”

“Don’t ask me with ‘please’, you’re paying me”

“Oh why won’t you just die already”

“Sometimes I wonder for how long have you wanted his/her heart and if you will ever stop”

“Filthy cheater, we go again!”

“Didn’t you pay your debt already?”

“I can’t get sick/injured.”

“You act like you’ve never been defeated”

“Diamond thrown into the trash still has the value of a diamond”

“I got engaged”

“All this was decided for me, I had no choice”

“I’m beginning to think not even the jail guards/cops want you around, given how many times they’ve let me bail you out”

“You, sir/madam, should watch your alcohol intake”

“I’ve been denying everyone, you’re not special”

“I’m not looking for a romance”

“Isn’t that immoral enough to tempt you?”

“We’re two sides of the same fucked up coin”

“That’s what I like to see, you are your parents’ best indeed!”

“You have nothing to lose right?”

“Oh I can’t wait to hear you sing”

“Anything you’d like to add to the conversation?”

“Hi.”

“You need to stop making me pick you up in places someone may see”

“I thought I was a puppeteer pulling the strings but instead I was a back seat audience”

“I want names, I want addresses, I’m gonna make them pay.”

“You know where to find me if you ever want me again.”

“My mother is visiting in like 5 minutes”

“Is it that, or is it because you’re in love with me?”

“Not being able to reciprocate has been the hardest part of my life”

“Did you kill someone?”

“Envious of my youth, are we?”

“The others may have gotten away…”

“I found you. Found you looking like you didn’t want to be found”

“Did we use to be a thing?”

“I can fix this. I can fix this…”

“Weird question, are you a supernatural being? Be honest”

“We should have never played Gods”

“Must you be so harsh with me all the time?”

“What did all these men/women do to deserve you?”

“We have a reputation to uphold”

“May I have this dance?”

“I am a bad influence on you!”

“Let’s make history”

“Who the hell wants to live forever.”

“Feeling any different?”

“Time waits for no one”

“You got your happy-ever-after. And for all I know, it’s because I didn’t.”

“Try that again and you’re gonna lose it”

“Didn’t I say one of these days you’re gonna be the death of me?”

“Do you know what my answer was?”

“You look pathetic.”

“Almost didn’t recognize your voice when it’s not yelling at me”

“I often find myself talking to those no longer here as well”

“Excuse me, this is not a buffet”

“I don’t suspect you because I’m the one who put him/her in the ground”

“You look like someone who likes a good gamble”

“I am poison”

“Feel free to stay as long as you need”

“You don’t need to understand, just be a good little thing”

“I’m gonna need your driver’s license, your ID and your phone number please~”

“Say my name”

“You…are telling the truth”

“Is that why you did that? Back there?”

“Stop reading my mind”

“I can teach you”

“How can you laugh?”

“Pretty pictures. I don’t have any”

“Heaven may fall, but __ can’t die.”

#dialogue prompt #writing prompt #dialogue prompts #otp prompts #prompts

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persephryne · 5 months ago

Text

Making Aegon a rapist was straight up bad and lazy writing.

Let me elaborate.

In the show, the first thing we learn about Aegon as an adult is that he is a rapist. We haven’t seen him yet but still we already know that he is an horrible despicable rapist, especially since Dyana is so young, which pretty much makes him a pedophile too. How could anyone root for a man like that ? And that’s where the problem begins.

Rhaenyra had already been established many times as the rightful heir to the throne in season 1. It has been made obvious that she would make a decent Queen too. In the meantime, it had already been shown that Aegon is not even a good person. He’s selfish, inconsiderate, a bully, and does not act like a prince at all. To put it plainly, he sucks big time and we as viewers already know it. Add what we saw in season 2, how reckless he gets, how he’s an alcoholic immature asshole, how he obviously knows nothing about strategics nor how to rule efficiently, or even how bad he is at high valyrian, and you can’t have anyone tell you in good faith that he would’ve been a better ruler than Rhaenyra.

However, had Aegon not been made a rapist, you would still feel for him even though he is not cut out to rule. Because he knows it too and tried to escape it and he was forced to attend his own coronation . Because this crown that he did not want does not fit him, even though he really tries to show that he is not as worthless as everyone seems to think and he just keeps failing. You would feel for him because the war ,that he has started when he was made an usurper by the people around him, has cost him his son’s life. Because the brother, who is partially responsible for his son’s death has now betrayed him and tried to kill him with dragonfire. Because the injuries he suffered make him look more and more like his father who never cared for him, never loved him and that he definitely hates. Which also probably why he tries so hard to make his mother proud of him and love him but he can’t and his main attempt has left him half-dead, half-burn. Not only that but his dragon, with whom he has the strongest bond known in Targaryen’s, history probably died during this futile attempt to prove himself. The only thing about his Targaryen’s heritage that he seems to care about has been destroyed all because he wanted to prove himself. Because he truly resents his Targaryen’s, his father’s heritage, it’s obvious, just as it is obvious that he didn’t want to marry his own sister but was forced to. It’s completely legitimate of him to want to distance himself as much as possible from everything that is Targaryen related. He is indeed more of an Hightower than a Targaryen, but can you really blame him for that ? Would you not try to fit somewhere else too, if you were in his place ? It’s all absolutely and undeniably tragic.

I wholeheartdely believe that, even if you would’ve root for Rheanyra to be Queen, you woud’ve probably still thought that Aegon, as bad as he is, did not deserves this much pain.

But because he is a rapist, well, he honestly does.

By not trusting the audience to see that Aegon is not a good person, nor a good a king, without having him comitting a literal crime, by making Aegon a rapist, the writers have annihilated any possibilities for an internal conflict regarding Aegon and Rhaenyra. The whole concept of « teams » just goes down the drain because of this lazy, manichaean, writing. And that, my friends, is bad writing at its peak.

#which is why i have decided to ignore it #I recognise that the writers have made a decision but given that it’s a stupid-ass decision I’ve elected to ignore it.#just as i ignore got seasons 7 and 8 #i do not fuck with bad writing #we could’ve had it all #the siblings conflicts #the internal conflict of wow he’s an asshole but damn does he deserves all this shit ?#the internal conflit of I want Rheanyra to be queen but I don’t want her siblings to die a painful slow death either #Rheanyra got butchered too #if only she was a bit more flawed a bit more angry #show me a rightful heir that is kind of terrible but you still root for her #show me an usurper who kind of sucks but does not deserve all of his sufferings #make me doubt my loyalty for god’s sake #they just fucked up big time with all the characters #i hate it here #anti ryan condal #this is NOT a ryan condall safe place !!!!!#aegon ii targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #aemond targaryen #heleana targaryen #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd spoilers #hotd season 2 #hotd season 1 #rant post

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axelsagewrites · 11 months ago

Note

So I know you already did a lot of Ramsey x reader oneshots but honestly I just love how you write them so can I request a oneshot for Ramsey Bolton x fem reader where the reader is a servant (this has nothing to do with the previous servant oneshots) and Ramsey is attracted to her but doesn’t act on it and she accidentally stumbles upon him killing his father and she hides in the corner somewhere in the room and over hears him planning to kill his stepmother and brother so she tries to help them and get to them before Ramsey dose but she is unsuccessful and Ramsey discovers what she tried to do so she begs for forgiveness and he tells her he will consider it if she can prove to him why she deserves it so he takes her to the room where he flays people and has sex with her on the X-shaped cross ?

Ramsay Bolton*Little Mouse

Pairing: Ramsay Bolton x f!reader

Word count: 1950

Warnings: roose being murdered, dub con, p in v sex, nipple play, unprotected sex, biting, hickeys, spanking, bruises, X cross sex, teasing, degrading, orgasm denial, begging, bondage, choking, restraints, smut 18+

a/n: thank u sm for being so sweet anon

Masterlist Here

Everyone hated Ramsay Bolton. Ever since his father took over Winterfell his name was brought up in hushed angry whispers amongst the servants. You hated him too. In theory at least.

You tried to hate him and partook in the gossips and whispers that surrounded him but perhaps it wasn’t in your nature to hate. Perhaps deep down he was not as bad as he seemed. The rumours after all were just gossip told to you from the few servants, they brought from the Dread fort.

Things had been grower tenser, if possible, recently with Sansa escaping and the possibility of Ramsay’s own replacement if this baby was a son. You were glad Sansa had escaped but even more grateful no one had found out you had smuggled her notes.

Roose Bolton didn’t even ask you to pour the wine, just tapped the rim of his cup. You topped it up as he, Ramsay, and another Lord discussed the Snow dilemma. “My lord,” you bowed your head as you walked away. the jug was empty, so you excused yourself to refill it.

You went as quickly as you could, not wishing to spark his temper which had been easier recently. However, as you crept through the open door you had to hold back a gasp when you saw Roose Bolton’s glassy eyes staring at you in shock as Ramsay plunged the knife into his stomach a second time before shoving his father to the ground.

Your eyes then turned to the Maester. His gaze met yours and the moment it did you stepped back, turning to place your back flush against the wall beside the door, praying the other two had not noticed you. “Send ravens to the houses of the north,” Ramsay began to instruct him, “Tell them he was poisoned by our enemies,”

The words began to ring hollow in your ear as your breathing grew rough. However, seven words snapped you out your daze, “Find my brother and make it swift,”

You felt your feet carry you away before you could stop yourself, still holding the flagon of wine. You had to find her but as you wandered the halls you found your mind clouding over, unable to recall what room she’d been moved to for the birth. As you began to rush to the servants’ quarters you felt a hand clamp over your mouth, another around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. The jug fell to the ground with a clatter as the finest wine in the north spilt on the dirty stone.

“Don’t scream little mouse,” Ramsay’s voice whispered in your ear. “It won’t do you any good,” he said, removing his hand slowly from your mouth.

“My lord. How can I- “

“You never came back with the wine,” he tutted, “I missed your pretty face,”

“I had to fetch a fresh barrel- “

“Liar,” he hissed in your ear, biting your lobe and making you gasp, “What did you see? and don’t lie to me this time,” he added when you went to speak.

You swallowed hard as his hand moved to hold your neck gently, but you had seen how tight his grip could be, “I say Roose Bolton die my lord. Poisoned by our enemies,”

His chuckled vibrated up his chest making the hair on your neck stand up. You gasped when his hand suddenly turned you to face him, your face just an inch from his, “I’m going to have some fun with you little mouse,”

“Where are we?” you asked in a shaky voice as Ramsay led you down a narrow set of stairs.

They led to a single wooden door which he creaked open with a smile, “Ladies first,” he said.

This was it. you were going to die. You walked into the room, and you felt your blood drain. “My lord please no,” you began to beg, “I’ll tell no one I swear. I know nothing, nothing at all. I am just some stupid servant my lord no one would believe me anyway,” you stuttered, your eyes locked on the X shaped cross.

You heard his laugh, but your eyes would not fall from the cross. “Your silly little girl,” he mumbled in your ear. His arms moved to wrap around your waist, your back pressed against his hard chest as he began to walk you over to the cross, “I do not wish to hurt you,” he said, gently spinning you to face him, “Unless you make me of course. but you won’t do that, will you?” he asked, brushing the stray hairs out your face.

“No, my lord,” you whispered, your eyes locked on his.

A small smirk appeared on his lips, “Good. Now strip,”

“What- “

“Did I stutter?” he asked, cutting you off as his head dipped down till his lips were brushing against yours with each word, “Take those rags off and behave. Or I may just have to reconsider my offer to let you live,” he said, leaning back so you could begin to pull at the strings of your dress, “It’d be a shame too. I always liked when it was you serving me. Even if you can be slow at times,” he said, suddenly grabbing the dress round the collar and ripping it.

You gasped as he tore the dress more, pulling it down your body till it pooled to the floor, “That’s better now, isn’t it?” he asked, his head hanging low as his eyes scanned your body. His hands moved to run up your waist, squeezing it gently before moving further up to graze your tits. He groaned as he squeezed them, and you gasped at the feeling, but you felt a weird sensation growing in your stomach.

This was wrong. Everything about it from the way he walked you back till your back hit the wooden cross to the way his eyes scanned your naked frame. It was wrong, dirty, and shameful, but you couldn’t help but moan as he twisted your nipples between his fingers.

Ramsay chuckled when you did so, his eyes lifting to meet yours making a flush form on your cheeks, “Perhaps you’re not as innocent as you looked little one,” he teased, his hands falling from your tits to gently run down your arms.

Suddenly he grabbed your wrist, slamming it against the wood making you whimper as he began to attach the first restraint. You watched his concentrated eyes as he did up the straps before moving to do the next one.

He began to sink to his knees, kissing down your chest then stomach and thighs as he went. He grabbed your ankle gently, kissing the top of your foot as he did the strap around your ankle. A chill ran down your spine at how exposed you suddenly felt as he did the final strap up.

Ramsay lifted his gaze before standing slowly with a smirk. You couldn’t even question it before you felt his fingers run up your slit making you gasp, “Now if I’m to keep you,” he began, speaking slowly as his nose ran up your neck till he could whisper in your ear, “You will need to prove yourself to me after your little stunt. Do you understand?”

“Yes, my lord,”

“And if you disobey- “

“I won’t,” you cut him off this time. his head snapped to the side till his gaze was meeting yours, “I won’t disobey you, my lord. Never, not in a thousand years,”

“Really?” he said, leaning his body against yours as his fingers began to rub slow circles on your clit.

“Yes, my lord. I swear it,”

Ramsay’s lips skimmed along your neck before he began to suck dark marks along your neck, all while his fingers worked on your bundle of nerves making you want to clamp your legs together, but you couldn’t. “Already so worked up,” he tutted, his lips moving to your jaw, biting at the skin making you gasp, “So desperate for me,” he said, moving his fingers from your clit making you wine before pushing them in slowly.

He continued leaving bites along your skin as his fingers curled inside you, teasingly slow making you pull on your restraints more with each curl. You felt your cunt squeeze around his fingers and just as you felt your peak approaching, he ripped his fingers out. You couldn’t help but whine at the loss. A quick slap to your cunt swiftly followed making you gasp, “Don’t be greedy now,” Ramsay growled as his hand moved to untie the string of his trousers.

“Yes, my lord, sorry my lord,” you said your eyes moving to the ceiling to avoid his steely gaze, but his hand moved to grip your jaw.

He brought your eyes back down to his, “Look at me,” he said, meanwhile his hand moved to stroke his hardening cock. He smirked as your eyes stared into his, “Good girl,” he said, moving to press a kiss to your cheek.

The tenderness was interrupted by his tip pushing into your hole. A soft whimper fell from your lips making him groan, his head falling to the crook of your neck. He pushed in further, grunted as he did so, “So tight,” he mumbled against your skin as his cock began to stretch you out.

You gasped as he sunk himself all the way in, biting your lip as you tried to adjust but he wasted no time before his hips began to buck. His hands moved to grab your hips, his fingers sinking into your flesh so hard you wondered if it would bruise. You couldn’t bring yourself to care however when you felt a knot tightening in your stomach.

His hands moved to grab your tits, squeezing them harshly before pinching your nipples making you moan. “Yes,” he groaned, kissing up your neck, “Moan my name like the desperate girl you are,” “Ramsay,” you moaned, and you felt his hips speed up their pace. You moaned it louder when he began to roll your nipples between his fingers.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “such a good girl,” he praised as a hand slipped from your tit only to move to find your clit again.

He rubbed harsh quick circles on it which only made the knot tighten further. Your arms and legs pulled on the restraints, your body desperately wanting to tense at the growing sensation spreading through your stomach. Ramsay chuckled at your attempts, however.

Your cunt began to squeeze around his cock, your peak threatening to spill at any moment as his hips snapped against yours. you gasped as you felt your peak hit your body and couldn’t hold back the moan that left your lips as Ramsay continued to fuck you through it.

The feeling of you coming undone around him though only seemed to drive him crazier as his pace increased and his hand moved from your tit to hold your throat. He squeezed your neck, pushing your head up so he could kiss your jaw at the same time. it only took a few more thrusts before he finally spilled, unable to hold off any longer.

Ramsay practically collapsed against you, his head resting in the crook of your neck as he caught his breath. After a few moments he pulled back, pulling himself out at the same time. he pushed the hair out of your face, holding your jaw gently as his eyes scanned your bruised and bitten skin.

A smirk found its way on to his face, “Yes,” he murmured, his eyes finally meeting yours again, “I think I just might keep you little mouse,”

Taglist Sign Up Here

General taglist: @strvngestark @headinfantasy @meg-ro @427120lxld @obx-josie18 @ravenmoore14 @tessakate @justtilly @jjkjbhj @clairacassidy @valeskafics @perla434 @justtilly @selenestar78 @urmomsgirlfriend1

Game of thrones taglist: @mysunflowerspace @xyinparadise @nyotamalfoy @asgards-princess-of-mischief @sashadevil766 @lonely-girl2423 @sashadevil766 @3lisia

#ramsay bolton smut #ramsay bolton #ramsay bolton imagine #ramsay bolton x reader #ramsay snow #ramsay now smut #game of thrones smut #game of thrones show #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine #iwan rheon #iwan rheon smut #requested #asoiaf #asoiaf smut

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a-bit-too-critical · 28 days ago

Text

Holy shit?!? I watched the newest ep thinking it would be crap that I wouldn’t care about at all (especially with stolASS in the thumbnail), BUT THAT WAS ACTUALLY KIND OF DECENT??? IM KINDA OBSESSED IN SOME WAYS (obviously minus the Stolitz crap but still 😭)

Spoilersss below ofc

STELLA IS BACK LETS FREAKING GOOOO!!!

I do think the fact she never even CONSIDERED reporting Stolas’ illegal grimore use is really stupid, it feels like Viv didn’t know what would cause the authorities to arrest Blitzø so she made some crap up 😭

Here’s a more fun idea: Stella saw Blitz fall out of a window that fateful day with the grimore, but always assumed Blitz stole it and Stolas got it back easily considering the whole hell hierarchy (IMPs are seen as useless and weak). During a recent visitation day with Octavia, she was plotting ways to get rid of Stolas, asked her, and Octavia spilled what’s ACTUALLY been going on, which she then passed onto Andrelphus. Not perfect but a bit better than what was shown here I’d say

…Also why does Andrelphus keep calling Stella hot?? That’s your sister bro?? Why not make him say “you’re lucky you’re powerful” or “you’re lucky you’ve got insight on Stolas’ current life” or even “you’re lucky you’re of use to me”?? But no, we got stuff that kinda sounds like incest 😭

Not bothering to add an image here but I love the interns, they’re probably there for a college requirement or something (assuming hell has an education system) and Blitz is just like “HELL YEAH FREE LABOR” (more proof that bro does not actually care about his workers, idc what the show wants you to believe lmao) (good to see they likely weren’t caught up in the arrest tho, probably let go after they explained their story thankfully)

Also Moxxie dear god I felt so bad for him, he was sobbing and looked genuinely distressed, especially after hearing “we are going to beat you”. He definitely has ptsd from his dad and he deserves so much better than Blitz as a boss /srs

I also felt pretty bad for Loona, she doesn’t even want to work at IMP and doesn’t give a crap about the Stolas drama yet is now being arrested over it. I’ll get into this more later but proof that hell doesn’t care about hellhounds and Imps!!

Back to Moxxie, Blitz stuffing paper in his mouth while he was clearly visibly distressed caused me to lose a piece of my soul (and we’re expected to laugh at it, as usual :/)

Haven’t mentioned Millie much here but that’s kinda because she knows what to do in this kind of situation? She’s a wrath imp, she’s not afraid to kill literally anybody to save her life. She knows how to hide evidence and fight as well. She is completely fine in this scenario and knows what to do (and is clearly shown to be staying mostly calm, unlike Moxxie or Loona).

SATAN!! THE DRAGON DESIGN FITS PERFECT FOR HIM!!! this is by far my 2nd favorite sin design (only behind Bee, unpopular opinion but I freaking love her design)!!! I also love how they gave him buff arms but skinny legs (as he’s likely punching, grabbing/choking, and stuff like that a lot, but is rarely kicking, jumping around (he can fly, no need), or even running that much)!

ALSO LEVIATHAN AND BELPHAGOR!!! Belphagor fits pretty dang well imo, though I with they’d made her a bit more “plush like” to represent a sort of laziness and preference of sleeping instead of waking. Not sure how to feel about Leviathan just yet, I like the 2 head approach but the left head is just a copy paste Glitz or Glam 😭

AND BEEEEEE MY GIRL IS BACK!!! SO NICE TO HEAR HER TALK AGAIN AND HER NEW OUTFIT LOOKS SO FREAKING GOOD ON HER!!!

Alsooo I love that Moxxie has finally had enough of his boss!! He fought against his crappy defense of “attempting a crime isn’t illegal” instead of blindly defending him. You go Moxxie!!!

Anddd Andrelphus once again says his sister is hot FOR NO GOD DAMN REASON, Bee and Ozzie look rightfully disgusted though so at least it’s being portrayed as a negative thing 💀

AND VASSAGO ACTUALLY SPEAKING FULL SPANISH SENTENCES ON SCREEN WITHOUT UNNECESSARY SUBTITLES TRANSLATING HIM??? HOLY CRAP?? ITS A SMALL VICTORY BUT IM TAKING IT!!

Hey so what the hell

THIS MAN GOT HIS EYE FREAKING EXPLODED AND HE COMES OUT OF IT WITH THAT??? THATS IT?!? THATS BARELY EVEN VISIBLE WHAT THE HELL??

HIS EYESIGHT IN THAT EYE SHOULD BE AT THE VERY LEAST WEAKENED IF NOT COMPLETELY BLINDED, AND AT LEAST SOME OF HIS FACE SHOULD BE FREAKING MELTED OR CLEARLY BURNED. VIV, MAYBE TAKE SOME NOTES FROM QUEEN SCARLET FROM WINGS OF FIRE, BECAUSE EVEN THAT KIDS BOOK SERIES SHOWED HER FACE MELTED AFTER INJURY

Ughhh sorry, that one just really infuriated me :(

Ok this one might get a bit headcanon-ish since I selfship with Bee, but they mischaracterized the living hell out of her 😭

No surprise she tries to defend Blitz of course, as far as she can see that’s the father of Loona. But here’s my thing: WHY DOES SHE NOT EVEN TRY TO DEFEND LOONA??? HER BOYFRIEND’S LIKELY BEST FRIEND AND HER SELF DESCRIBED “FAVORITE PERSON”?? UGHHHHH SHE WOULD NOT DO THAT. NUH UH, SHE’S FIESTY AND WOULDNT HESITATE TO DEFEND OR SAVE SOMEONE OF HER OWN, MARGINALIZED KIND. I MEAN SHE LITERALLY INSULTED AND THREW A PENIS-POPSICLE AT MAMMON IN FRONT OF ALL THE OTHER SINS, AND SHE CLEARLY DOESNT THINK TWICE ABOUT IT. DEAR FREAKING GOD SHE WOULD DO SOMETHING-

In short, Bee would not freaking do this. Continue.

We haven’t got to this part of the ep yet so I’ll talk about it more later, BUT THEY ACTUALLY HAVE GONE BACK TO THE WHOLE CLASSISM DISCUSSION!!! FINALLY!!! Satan calls Blitz an “Imp bastard” that they can just kill and not care about, and nearly everyone agrees. With Stolas later however, that is NOT the case. I hate the classism but I love the discussion of why is so screwed up. Beautiful.

Ozzie looking up from his phone was freaking heartbreaking as well. He clearly cares about Fizz to a straight up unhealthy degree and would do anything for him (Codependency), but he knows he can’t do anything here. I think the same goes for Bee at this point, earlier she could’ve stood up and fought but now any bite-back would get her head cut off, especially considering how she is likely viewed for dating a hellhound and how Ozzie is viewed for dating an Imp.

AND BLITZ’S SPEECH?!? IM SORRY BUT IVE GOTTA RECORD THIS ONE ITS JUST TOO PERFECT, THIS IS WHAG THE SHOW SHOULDVE BEEN ABOUT AND THE PATH IT FOLLOWED.

(Ignore my friend yapping about TADC in the discord group 😭)

THIS IS ACTUALLY BEAUTIFUL. AND YKNOW WHAT THIS SHOULDVE BEEN? THE FINALE. THE END. THERE SHOULDVE BEEN NO STOLAS TO SAVE HIM. WHY, JUST WHY COULDNT THIS SHOW HAVE BEEN ABOUT MISSIONS WITH SLOWLY MORE DRAMA AND EVENTUALLY THIS, AND SINCE BLITZ HAS NO RELATIONS WITH THE POWERFUL… he just dies. It would show that, in a society so royally screwed up by this level of classism, they wouldn’t have cared. Our main guy is just some random Imp to them. Blitz never supported the rich, and for that, he died. Now THAT would’ve been a dark yet amazing commentary. But this is Viv so that’ll never happen 😭

Also this is nitpicky but the ass joke with Stolas is just so tonally dissonant, like this is a very serious and celebratory moment that shouldn’t have a stupid joke in it…

ALSO GOD DAMN IT NO NO NO MORE STOLITZZZ 😭

I am never, ever getting over the fact the actually successfully made an “in the only way I know how to… SONG” joke, it’s freaking amazing

Anyway, not going super in depth in this song but STOLITZ DOES NOT DESERVE THIS BOP OMGGG GIVE THIS TO ANOTHER SHIP PLEASE 😭

and of course Stolas called Blitz a worm and a bunch of other derogatory stuff as per usual, sureee you don’t look down on him bucko :/

GANG. WE WON. I DONT CARE IF STELLA GAVE AN EVIL SMILE AFTER THIS, THIS IS THE SWEETEST MOMENT IN THE SHOW. I KNOW STELLA WILL BE A BETTER MOTHER THAN STOLAS, AND I HOPE THE SHOW PORTRAYS HER AS ONE. ALL I KNOW IS THAT STELLA DOES CARE FOR OCTAVIA, BUT LET HER HATRED OF STOLAS GET IN THE WAY OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP. Now that there’s no Stolas… they can have an actually good life. Now Viv, you know you screwed up when your “bad ending” over here is actually the best possible outcome.

OK NOW UH

“You’re demon royalty!! Soooo your life has actual worth!”

THE CLASSISM HOLY HELL, I NEED MORE OF THIS. THIS!! THE THING THE SHOW WAS ACTUALLY MEANT TO COMMENTATE ON!!! HELL DOESNT GIVE A SHIT ABOUT ANYONE WHO IS NOT ROYAL, NO MATTER HOW SUCCESSFUL THEY ARE. THEY SEE THEM AS PAWNS FOR THE ROYALTY AND HIGHER UPS TO USE.

THIS PUNISHMENT FOR STOLAS WAS ACTUALLY THE BEST WE COULDVE EVER GOTTEN. BECAUSE HE FREAKING DESERVES IT. HE ABUSED THE LOWER CLASS (Blitz) FOR HIS OWN GAIN TO THE POINT OF CHEATING ON HIS OWN WIFE AND NEGLECTING HIS DAUGHTER, PLUS IGNORING EVERY ASPECT OF HIS LIFE EXCEPT HIS LITTLE PAWN TO ABUSE. AND NOW HIS IS THE PAWN, NOW HE HAS TO SEE THE CLASSISM IN ACTION. HELL. YES. Albeit I wish Blitz would throw him out on the street to freaking die but oh well, Viv needs her stupid Stolitz :/

AND THIS. YALL DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW SATISFYING THIS WAS. Blitz managed to fight against classism in a court and show so much support for Impkind, something he should be celebrated for. And Stolas abused said impkind, so should be hated on. Simple as that. Finally the god dang tables have turned and I could not be more pleased.

And even though I’m not a fan of Loona still loving Blitz so deeply despite all the crap he puts her and the others through, I loved seeing Stolas look so horrified. It’s almost like he’s realizing his daughter never freaking says that. It’s almost like he’s realizing he was a god awful father. Took ya long enough.

ALSO I SAW A TEXT ON BLITZ’S PHONE ASKING IF HE ONLY HIRES IMPS??? I THINK HE MIGHT ACTUALLY BE CHALLENGING THE CLASS SYSTEM HERE AND BRINGING DOWN THE HIERARCHY A BIT!!! THE CLASSISM COMMENTARY MIGHT ACTUALLY BE PERMANENTLY BACK HOLY CRAP!!!

I’m not even gonna talk about the Stolitz at the end 💀

But Blitz deserves those fireworks!!! He’s not perfect by any means and his previous abusive actions toward his crew should NOT BE EXCUSED, but what he did here is amazing and should be celebrated. Love to see it

Overall rating: 9/10!!

Pros: Classism commentary, Stella gets custody of Octavia and Andrelphus gets Stolas’ position, Stolas gets what he deserves, Satan has an epic design. Also some higher quality animation!

Cons: Stolitz, Moxxie abuse played for laughs, mischaracterization of Bee

#hellaverse critical #hellaverse criticism #hellaverse critique #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critique #helluva critical #anti stolas #anti stolitz #vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticism #vivziepop critique

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crystaljellie · 5 days ago

Text

Scott and Pearl analysis moment

Because I’m sick and tired of people mischaracterising C!Scott he is not evil!! Pearl does not hate him!! She’s bitter sure but she doesn’t hate him.

Starting with them in last life Pearl and Scott always sticking by each other always being there for each other, I’ve seen so many “Scott was using Pearl” because he wanted a life from her. Like he’s trying to live?? It’s different from Grian stealing a life from Scar and then tormenting him and giving him nothing in return. Scott does his absolute best to protect Pearl protect their house and spend time with her.

He’s a good friend. And he’s absolutely heartbroken when she dies, because Scott knew she was going to but he didn’t want her to go before him. And he definitely keeps his cool because Scott isn’t the kind of guy to go if the rail easily, the way you can tell Scott is angry is by how reckless or determined he gets. In third life he’s distraught by Jimmy’s death and then rushes in and dies quickly because he doesn’t want to be alone. And in last life he kills Ren because he killed Pearl. He’s doing it to avenge her.

He’s glad when he wins but he’s not upset when he dies either. He’s annoyed that he didn’t get to choose his own death but. He celebrates winning because he doesn’t have to lose anybody else.

And so jump to double life and all of a sudden the person he loves so much and has gone out of his way to protect doesn’t even take the time to go looking for him, so you can see why he’s upset. And it’s the biggest miscommunication moment ever because Pearl is expecting to go back and have Scott waiting with open arms for her, and she can’t explain to him and doesn’t understand what she did wrong, which tbh is nothing but that doesn’t make the way Scott feels invalid either.

And then it kind of all goes to shit, Scott’s more snappy and on edge this season because he won the last one and ya know winners trauma. And he honestly doesn’t want to win again so when Cleo suggests tormenting Pearl (I think that’s how it happens I don’t remember it might have been scar with the snow buckets first) he’s all for it!! Because he’s hurting!!

And pearl on the other hand is left alone and has no idea what to do with herself, because sure she can handle being alone but she can’t handle being alone like this, where’s she’s forced into isolation, she’s going crazy because she feels like everyone she loves has left her, she’s mad at Scott and she’s more mad at Cleo because she feels like Cleo has stolen him from her. And so she lashes out because it’s all she knows how to do here, and in a death game what’s a better form of communication than violence?

But she doesn’t want Scott to die not because she wants to live but because she still cares even if she doesn’t want to care. She wants Scott to hurt because she’s hurting, but like Scott in last life she can’t bare to see him die before her.

She’s winning this to prove herself to be someone who doesn’t need Scott. But she still cares so much and she hates it, that’s why she spends the first couple sessions trying to win him back.

And Scott is with Cleo but he feels alone too, because Cleo’s relationship with Martyn isn’t as strained as his is with Pearl. And he knows it’s his fault, he does. That’s why he starts trying to sabotage other relationships, so he doesn’t have to feel as bad.

That’s why he’s careful to stay alive, so he can make it up to Pearl in some way.

He avoids everything he can that might make him face that guilt. But he’s hurt and is stuck with all the blame placed on him. Everyone KNOWS it’s Scott’s fault Pearl is the way she is. But no one but Cleo acknowledges this which makes Scott more bitter, and honestly he’s a little bit scared of Pearl not that he’ll admit that to anyone ever.

But him feeling this guilt is why he kills himself at the end that and because he’s scared of winning again. But he knows he doesn’t deserve getting to where he’s gotten to, and with his self sacrificial nature he’s trying to make it up to her. If she watches him hurt and hurt and die, maybe she’ll feel better.

AND SHE DOES FORGIVE HIM!!! NOT BECAUSE SHE LIKES SEEING HIM HURT!! SHE HATES THAT PART!! SHE FORGIVES HIM BECAUSE SHE CAN SEE HOW MUCH HE CARES! And obviously she’s still a little bit bitter because like who wouldn’t be. But she forgives him and she can see he’s trying that he feels awful about it, so awful that actually kills himself.

And you can see how double life effects both of them moving forward, mainly Scott, he’s scared of hurting anyone the way he hurt pearl, so he goes out of his way to let his friend and allies kill him over and over so he can be of use to them, because he’s realised that his life, lives can be used as currency as friendship as a way to get people not to hate him. He’s putting himself on sale.

He does it in secret life too giving up his lives his hearts his safety, just to be of use. He can’t even bring himself to really care when people betray him, because hey he betrayed Pearl worse right?

Pearl is so much more unhinged after double life too so much more reckless. Because why try and stay hinged when you’re going to loose everything anyways?

And coincidentally all of pearls allies start dying before her, and Everytime it happens she’s just reminded of double life, of that tower, of everything bad that ever happened. And because of that she can’t bring herself to forgive Scott yet. Because she doesn’t feel loved yet.

And then wild life comes, and they team together again, and yes it starts with some bickering and fighting but they needed to get that out they needed to bring it up so they can let it go.

Pearl has her own issues with Gem that season sure, but she gets something close to closure with Scott. Not proper closure, because they’re in a death game, they don’t have enough time they never will. But she gets a real end, and gets a chance at a real friendship with Scott again. She even gives him her hoodie when he turns red. They stick together they’re friends again.

Pearl doesn’t hate him!! He doesn’t belittle her!! I keep seeing “oh Scott didn’t trust Pearl oh he’s treating her badly because he’s keeping her on a leash and not enabling her chaos!!” HES WORRIED ABOUT HER??? HE WANTS HER TO BE SAFE AND KEEP THE TEAM SAFE AND THE ONLY WAY IN SCOTTS BRAIN IS TO CONTROL??? HE DOESNT NOT BELIEVE SHE CAN DO IT HES JUST WORRIED FOR HER FUCK OFF MAN

Anyways, and then Scott dies before Pearl and she doesn’t have the time for a reaction.

It’s not over for them, it’s not close to being over, but it’s getting better. And they’re BOTH getting a chance to heal, not just Pearl, because Pearl wasn’t the only fucking person that got hurt.

Sometimes I wonder if people watch the series with their eyes closed and volume off because how could you ever believe that Pearl truly hates Scott?

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