#so sexualized that it can’t be admired or respected

[purplebehittindifferent]

Aw man I wish I could drew this ide-

OH CRAP IM AN ARTIST!

[targaryenluvs]

DELICATE

pairings: dark!coriolanus snow x innocent!wife!reader

warnings: erm we’re back at it with another dark corio! possessiveness, literal murder, threats, vulgarity, nc touching -dumbification/babying, emotional manipulation and vulnerability, sexual undertones and thoughts, ownership?? NOT PROOFREAD

summary: coriolanus had to marry. lucky for him one of the most eligible girls of the capitol was up for grabs. only problem? he hoped his cold exterior would keep her away but nothing broke her sweet spirit. what happens when he finds himself being drawn to her light? and how far was he willing to go to keep it untainted and all to himself?

word count: 2.09k words

a/n: i swear i can only think of dark ideas for him because he is practically crayz - i loved this concept tho so enjoyyyy - annoyed i can’t find any post-lucy gifs snd i’ve already used the other one help me plz

taglist: @sleepydang @aspieundercover @darktrashsoulbear @3lliesrifle @rafeysbafey @zejjef @themorriganisamonster @cryfordemie @winterblu2 @earthangel-111 @taylarxse @alexameliamg @katastrophic04 @jjggdfvvy @joshwifeyslaymamaballs @10ava01 @kis9na @princessdaella @princessloveweird @prettybiching @justacaliforniandreamer @bxtchopolis @witchafterz @har-rison-s

PART TWO

coriolanus wanted nothing more than a relaxing night. he’d been at a campaign meeting for about four hours and he’d gotten absolutely nothing out of it.

he was in the right mind to fire them all and work it himself but he knew he couldn’t. all he wanted was to go home, have a bath drawn for him, eat dinner with you and go to sleep.

coriolanus had seen a number of weird things in his life but nothing was weirder than seeing you, hanging up the laundry to dry. you’d stopped him in his tracks but hadn’t yet noticed his presence as you hummed to yourself and went about your business. after staring in confusion for a few minutes he cleared his throat, “y/n. what are you doing?” you turned towards him with a smile, “it’s christmas! so i sent the staff home for the rest of the day so they could be with their families. don’t worry i had them prepare your bath, dinner and everything else. there were some things left to do so i thought, why not do them myself? i cleaned my room and yours, ironed the previous batch of laundry and placed them away, dusted the library and i was hanging up the laundry until you showed!” you beamed as you continued to hang the clothing.

coriolanus took a seat on one of the lawn chairs as you continued. he decided to watch you, to make sure you were okay. because who on earth wants to do laundry? that was the very reason you had so many servants. but here you were.

“you can head inside corio, no need to wait for me!” you said sweetly. coriolanus was a strong man, always rational. but god when you spoke so sweetly to him- no. “there’s no need, i’ll wait till you’re done.”

the sun was hanging low as the last rays illuminated the dining room. you’d set out candles, flowers and other pieces on the table. back home you loved setting the table, until your father would reprimand you for doing something you didn’t need to. what will people say if my daughter is acting as a servant?

but right now you felt at ease.

you had a good life. good friends which were rare to find in the capitol. good family and a good husband. he was proper, took care of you in every way, even if he didn’t love you, you were grateful to be married to someone you liked. admired. you’d heard whispers of corio’s childhood, his depleted resources and poor upbringing. but you couldn’t care less. he was more of a man than anyone you knew. and he was extremely pretty, your parents would’ve probably married you off to whomever they thought would help with social standings so this match? a lifeline.

coriolanus kept himself in check. he was up for presidency, his name and wealth restored and he was respected and feared. you were a diamond in the rough. whilst all the other girls in the capitol were, special, to say the least, you weren’t like them. first of all, he could tolerate you. like you even. you were exceptionally smart, well-read and spoken, respectful of those worthy but even those beneath you. you were kind, not the fake kind of the capitol. kind to everyone, helping everyone however you could.

and to him it was more than perfect. someone kind would be easy to have, easy to be married to. he knew from the second he saw you as marriage material that you’d never endanger those around you. you cared, enough to put your happiness to the back of the line. you’d be easy to control. after the wedding he expected you to be clingy, desperate for his love and affection. as any girl would from their husband, but you kept your distance. you didn’t push yourself on him, you did your duty. you did what was required and more. but you always listened, listened to him.

so he assumed you’d be easy to be married to, but he was always in awe of you. your sweet smiles every time you passed eachother in the halls, in the morning at breakfast and at night for dinner. always catering to him.

“what should i wear?” “you can choose.” “you tell me.” “it’s your choice.” and god did it inflate his ego. you were always asking about him, how his day was, what he did, who he saw etc. but it wasn’t just small talk, you were always listening. absorbing his words like a sponge, wide eyes, head nodding along dumbly. he loved it. and over the year he found himself, caring, on the inside at least.

every time you’d go out there were hungry eyes consuming you. your face, body everything. and he wanted to personally pluck out each eyeball and feed it to their families. so again, overtime, he’d shield you, protect you. his sweet wife who knew nothing of what the others wanted to do to her. a hand on your back, an arm around your waist, a peck on your forehead and his large red coat around you. all for show right?

he wanted to puke.

the smell of cabbage wafted to his nose and he was oh so close to putting this fist through the wall. who on earth-

you were humming, again. “corio!” your voice was music to his ears, corio, no one said it to him anymore. not even tigris. but he only liked, only wanted it to come from you. “dinner is served, some of your favourites are here. i asked tigris what you use to eat as a kid. ooh, you never told me you liked cabbage, me too! guess that’s another thing we have in common.” you beamed as you walked over with a bottle of wine, “tell me when to stop.”

he eyed you up the entire time. trying to catch a fleck of disgust whilst you ate, andddd, nothing. you weren’t lying, you actually liked it. he swallowed his own fear and began to eat.

“mm, i was wondering what you wanted me to wear tonight? i’d like to match corio, if that’s okay with you.” corio smiled slightly, “i would like to match. i have something i would like you to wear tonight sweetheart.” your eyes darted forwards as the word fell, sweetheart.

you couldn’t help the smile that came to your face, he only used terms like that in public. and based on his reaction afterwards, of which there was none, it meant that he probably didn’t even realise. or he did, you could never read him.

the red dress did things to coriolanus. the idea of you in it has his head spinning, but to actually see you in it? he wanted to throw you onto his bed and never let you out.

but to you it looked as if he was studying the dress rather than looking at you in it. “you look good.” you grinned, “thank you corio! i love your suit, you look very handsome.” you straightened his suit as he looked over your shoulder, your back was bare. “do you have a throw?” you quickly nodded and picked it up from the dresser. “good.” you already got a million stares in ordinary clothing, tonight was going to test his patience and anger.

the gala was gorgeous. for once there wasn’t ugly statues and weird color matches. a clean and pristine white hall, chandeliers, gold accents.

your heels clicked on the floor as coriolanus held his arm for you. “your hand please.” corio stared, waiting for your further explanation. “when we link arms your arm is too high for me. i end up with my arm at my neck.” you laughed as he lent his hand, which you gladly took.

stares and compliments at every corner of the room, everyone was looking at you two. the future president and first lady of panem. a match made in the capitol. you and coriolanus made the rounds, talking to present sponsors, potential sponsors and other candidates, much to coriolanus’s distaste. after a while you realised you were sort of just standing there, so you excused yourself for a drink and a closer view of the band.

“you look, ravishing.” charles operman. a sight which no one wanted to see, but to you he was just an ex-peer of the academy. “charles! thank you, corio picked it out for me.” you’d missed the way his jaw clenched at the mention of your husband, but you were to engrossed by the angelic singer and band. “you know, i always thought we’d end up together.”

the abruptness of his sentence had you choking on your drink, “excuse me, i’m married charles. i’m sorry if you thought that we would be together, i see you as a friend. i’d hate to lose a friend.” you smiled as he got uncomfortably closer and leaned into your ear, hand on your bare back.

coriolanus’s grip on his cup was tightening as he listened to lucky drone on and on. he wanted to see the life leave charles’s eyes, maybe his head would make as a nice present for you. “excuse me.” he nodded his head as he placed his cup on a passing waiters tray. you were helpless, and he was here to help you.

his breath was hot in your ear and you could smell the liquor on him as he was grabbed from you. “coriolanus, sir.” charles mocked salute as coriolanus stared at him, maybe he thought if he stared long enough hed burn into the floor. coriolanus rarely smiled, but this one was unsettling to say the least.

“if you ever put your hands on my wife, look at her, speak to her. it will be the last time you do so. i might just call in a favor with dr gaul, i hear your fond of snakes?” charles’s eyes widened, he hated snakes. he couldn’t even watch the 10th hunger games, the second he saw the snakes he ran to the bathroom and hurled.

“when i become president, you better keep yourself in line. it’d be horrible to see your family in the games no?” charles took a step back, “you can’t do that, i’m capitol.” coriolanus drew back,

“you won’t be for long.”

you couldn’t believe your eyes, of course he’d protect you but, threatening? he’d never do it right? the shutters of cameras had you reaching for corio, “can we leave my love?” coriolanus turned to you, “of course sweetheart.”

he’d stayed up for a long time. a smile came to his face when he remembered the sound of charles’s neck snapping. the door creaking open revealed a disheveled you, “corio? are you awake?” he sat up as you released a breath.

“what is it y/n?” you took a shy step forward, “i uhm, i can’t stop thinking about charles. he scared me, i didn’t know what to do corio. i-” you couldn’t stop the tears from falling as coriolanus swiftly got out of bed, helping you into his bed. “i- can i sleep here tonight? please?”

this was definitely not how he first expected to have you in his bed, but how could he say no to you? your hair in its braid, messy and lose, puffy eyes and tear stained face. he wished he’d first seen you cry underneath him but he’d take what he could get. what he didn’t expect was for him to like this, the scene of you crying, needing him. he was the one who could help you, console you, coddle you.

coriolanus nodded as he moved back to the bed, tucking himself and you in softy, caressing your hair and kissing your forehead. god he’d held out for so long, denied himself and his feelings but having you in his arms was all he could ever want, but the idea of being in you flooded his head.

would you cry like this? would you shout and scream? did you like it soft and sweet? he couldn’t be soft and sweet, he’d savour the moment but he loved the idea of unravelling you, he’d be the only one to see you like this, him being the only one to make it happen.

you curled into his chest, like a baby. your soft cries and whimpers went straight to his crotch and soon enough you were asleep.

his sweetheart, his delicate little wife.

corios hand slipped downwards and into your pants, he promised himself he just wanted to feel but god you made it difficult. he saved you tonight, didn’t he deserve a reward? didn’t matter if you detested he had you where he liked. so he slowly rolled over and placed you on the bed.

your eyes fluttered at the change of placement but he couldn’t care less. he was done waiting.

you squirmed underneath him in your sleep but his worries faded away.

[cazshmere]

Astrology Placements & Aspects that are likely to be stalked or attract obsessive people 🩸🕷️

(TW / MINORS DNI⚠️ : mentions of stalking and sexual content)

materialist 🔖

DEFINITION + DISCLAIMER : Stalking is persistent, unwanted attention or surveillance by an individual toward another person, often involving repeated following, contacting, or monitoring in ways that make the person feel threatened, harassed, or unsafe. It typically includes obsessive behavior aimed at controlling or staying close to the person, even without their consent. These are just my personal observations and are meant for entertainment purposes only; it may not resonate with everyone due to the nuances of astrology. Please respect my work and avoid copying or stealing it. Enjoy reading!! 🕷️🩸

🩸All Water Sign Placements (Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces): Water signs are deeply emotional and intuitive, often forming intense bonds with others. Their empathetic nature can attract people who feel misunderstood or who have obsessive tendencies, as they believe only these individuals can truly understand them. This connection to the water signs' emotional depth can lead to feelings of obsession.

🩸Neptune in the 1st House: Ahh I think everyone’s heard of how much of a blessing and curse this placement is. Neptune in the 1st creates a mysterious or ethereal aura around the person. This makes them hard to read, which can magnetize those who idealize or obsess over mystery. Their ability to project fantasies onto others can lead stalkers to feel as if they’re connected on a deeper, almost spiritual level. A lot of celebrities with this placement have PSYCHOTIC FANS💀.

🩸Moon in the 1st House: These individuals are extremely attuned with their surroundings and can easily empathise and pick up on energies. They may unknowingly attract others who become fixated on their vulnerability or nurturing qualities.

🩸Pluto in the 1st House: Omg this placement is scary ngl because people notice how much power and magnetism this individual possesses and people just can’t help but be amazed and intrigued by these individuals. This intrigue makes them want to know more and more about the person which then leads to obsessive tendencies, such as following them around, stalking their social media page or just keeping tabs on them. These individuals surely have a strong, sometimes mysterious presence that can fascinate or captivate others, leading to obsessive behavior from admirers or stalkers.

🩸Chiron in the 1st House: Chiron in the 1st house can make someone appear vulnerable or wounded, which can attract individuals who want to "fix" or control them. This placement often draws people who are compelled to heal or dominate the person’s perceived weaknesses.

🩸Lilith in the 1st House: Lilith represents our shadow selves and repressed desires. In the 1st house, it can give off an aura of raw power and sexuality, attracting people who are drawn to what they perceive as forbidden or unattainable.

🩸Pluto-Ascendant Aspects (esp harsh aspects) : When the ascendant comes in contact with pluto, pluto intensifies its characteristics. This could indicate that these individuals have something super striking about their appearance. Pluto is also the planet of mystery and uncertainty so these individuals exude a sense of mystery which attracts people to them because they want to know more about this individual. These individuals attract people who want to control, or “possess” them which leads to stalking tendencies.

🩸Pluto-MC Aspects (esp harsh aspects) : People can easily retort to stalking tendencies when it comes to these individuals as MC represents their public persona and people get obsessed with the way the individual portrays or presents themselves to the world. This reminds me of stalker fans that celebrities have that would go to any and every extent to see them or be near them because they are so fascinated with how they “appear” in public. If you follow kpop there’s a term for these type of fans called as sasaeng fans (please go and look it up, it’s actually so scary) who also possess obsessive and super CONCERNING qualities which resonate with how stalking and obsession can occur in respect to this aspect.

🩸Pluto-Moon Aspects: This aspect gives rise to others becoming emotionally obsessed, attached and dependent on the individual. This attachment or dependence leads to obsession as other people feel they NEED this individual in order to survive and this causes obsession. These individuals may attract obsessive or controlling partners who are drawn to their emotional depth and vulnerability.

🩸Pluto-Venus Aspects (esp harsh aspects): Omg individuals with this aspect, PLEASE PLEASE be really careful with who you trust or share your information with, especially when it comes to romantic relationships. Your partner could become super possessive of you and would want to monitor you 24/7, so creepy omg. These individuals also attract really insecure and possessive people. So please be mindful when you’re letting your guard down with others. These individuals attract obsessive partners who are unable to let go, often experiencing power struggles or possessive behavior.

🩸Pluto-Mars Aspects (esp harsh aspects) This aspect heightens the individuals sexual energy which in return tends to attract attention of A LOT of perverts or people who just want to sleep with you. They see you as a way to sexually satisfy their needs and they become obsessed with the fact that you might sleep with them and slowly start getting creepy and stalking you till you give in and sleep with them (PLEASE RUN AWAY IMMEDIATELY). If you have this aspect and feel like partners are just using you for sexual activities, PLEASE LEAVE because I’m sure when the attraction is genuine you will know it. This aspect induces a lot of LUSTFUL intentions in others towards you.

🩸Neptune-Mars Aspects (mainly the square and conjunction) : Oh god the amount of times people with this aspect get sexualised is so sickening. Literally people fantasise about you in their sexual scenarios and get obsessed with these scenarios and desperately want it to happen in real life. This desperation gives rise to obsession and stalking. TOXIC ASF.

🩸Venus Square/Opposite Saturn: Individuals with these aspects usually tend to have low self esteem so they can mistake obsession as love because they think this is exactly how love is supposed to feel like and this is all they’re going to get. This aspect also often suggests struggles in love and relationships, which can manifest as attracting partners who are emotionally unavailable or controlling. The difficulties in achieving healthy relationships may attract obsessive behaviour from others who know that the individual is easily controlled and can be manipulated. This power that these toxic people have over the individuals is what makes them obsessed because they just NEED to control and possess the native. Even if the native cuts ties with these toxic people, these people would stalk them and somehow try manipulating their way back into the natives lives.

🩸Scorpio Venus: OKAY this placement takes the winner title for getting stalked. Literally every single scorpio venus I have encountered has one or the other story of how their partner or someone who liked them OUTRIGHT stalked them. The people who are into these natives are SUPER possessive and observant over these individuals. They stalk their social media, probably have a secret folder of their pics and somehow “magically” appear in the same places as the native is in. I’ve noticed that sometimes people with this placement do enjoy this kind of attention, as long as the other person is respecting your boundaries and the actions in the relationship are both consensual, then it’s all good. If you guys have watched the show “You”, there’s this character called Beck and I feel like she probably had this placement and that’s why Joe was so freakin OBSESSED with her and the amount of times and the ways in which he has stalked her is crazy💀

🩸Scorpio Mars: These people attract ATTENTION everywhere they go. A lot of staring from others too because it’s hard NOT to notice these individuals. Their powerful sexual energy and ability to dive deep into relationships can attract obsessive or controlling individuals who want to dominate or consume them.

🩸Pluto/Scorpio in the 7th House: Oh god, these people can’t help but not attract intense and controlling people. Their partners have a need to KNOW every single thing about them - where they are, who they’re with, what they’re doing. Basically 0 privacy. A lot of intrusive partners are attracted. Well the native itself could possess these obsessive tendencies and sometimes they might enjoy a little bit of obsession from their partners side but eventually it gets toxic wherein it gets hard to cut ties with their partners and this obsession turns into something detrimental.

🩸Venus in the 8th House: SO MANY STALKERS, SO MANY SECRET ADMIRERS. Trust me if you think people aren’t watching you, THEY DEFINITELY ARE. For some reason people tend to notice even the tiniest amount of change in your physical appearance. This is scary honestly because there are eyes on you always because honestly your energy is so POWERFUL and MAGNETIC that people just can’t seem to get enough of you. These individuals attract bitchy friends who want to know everything about the native and always try to ONE up them. Please be super careful with who you engage with and share your energy with. I feel like just because this is a super intense placement, your intentions might not be clearly understood by others. For instance if you’re just acting friendly with a guy he might mistake it as flirting and then develop feelings for you and become obsessed 💀💀. Scary asf.

🩸Mars in the 8th House: Just like venus in the 8th house your sexual energy and presence is very high. Honestly this placement is SO MUCH more than just intense sexual energy but what to do, these individuals inevitably exude this type of energy. So if these individuals are being friendly with someone, the person might mistake this friendliness as something more and try and make a move because these individuals do come off as slightly more sexual than other people. This could also mean that people who have sex with these individuals ALWAYS want to come back to them because it was probably the best sex they ever had. They basically become sexually obsessed with the natives and keep coming for more and more.

🩸Mars in the 10th House: Mars in the 10th house can make a person’s career or public life a focal point of their energy, which can attract admirers or stalkers who become obsessed with their achievements or public image. For instance Jungkook from BTS has this placement and his fans are feral and superrr obsessed with everything he does and as a fellow army it’s honestly concerning to see 😭💀.

🩸Pluto in the 10th House: I feel like this placement attracts more of haters who are OBSESSED with the power these natives hold and want to either possess the same amount of power or overtake the native. This obsession stems more from hatred and envy. This intense, sometimes intimidating energy can draw admirers or obsessive followers who are either fascinated by their authority or want to undermine it.

🩸Neptune in the 10th House: Neptune in the 10th house can make a person’s public persona appear glamorous or unreachable, drawing people who project fantasies or illusions onto them. These individuals may find that others become obsessed with their perceived image rather than their true self.

🩸Venus in the 12th House: Venus in the 12th house can create secretive or unspoken love affairs, which may attract admirers who remain hidden or watch from afar. This placement can sometimes make it difficult to see a person’s true intentions.

‼️Of course, there are likely other placements that may experience similar things, but these are the aspects and placements I can recall off the top of my head. It’s important to note that having any of these placements doesn’t guarantee that such experiences will occur. This is merely a possibility and may be nothing more‼️

banner/gif credits to the rightful owners

© cazshmere 2024 [All Rights Reserved]

[dirtysvthoughts]

mafia boss! wonwoo x reader headcanons

tags/warnings: smut, female! reader, reader is shorter than wonwoo, some pwp, some worldbuilding before the smut (you know how i do), pet names (pretty girl, little one, etc.), mentions of love languages, mentions of lingerie, fingering, lots of kissing and making out, mentions of a dinner, apartment sex, kitchen sex into bedroom sex, make sure they wrap it up before you unwrap it! i’m actually highly upset i can’t have wonwoo blow my back out on a regular

author’s note: first of all, HEY BESTIES! i know i’ve been kinda silent, but i’m slowly getting back my will and motivation to write (do NOT take 3 classes during the summer). i’ve been dying to get my thoughts out on this after the lalali mv, and who knows - this may end up as a full length fic sometime soon 👀 let’s get into it!

———

-mafia boss! wonwoo whose gang started off small, and now he runs one of the largest mafia organizations in the country. he’s cunning, smart, sly, intimidating, even ruthless. those under him respect and admire him, from his vice-leader to the newer members. he strikes fear into several and he is not to be taken lightly or crossed. several groups have been eliminated with just a few words from his lips (like he said, he’s a monster).

-then enter you, his lover, whose entire lifestyle is the opposite of the one he leads. you’re just a simple office worker, but you’re fortunate enough to have some extra pleasures, like a lavish apartment and a decent social life. wonwoo has had his share of women and previous relationships, but you were different. you keep him level headed and grounded. your calm demeanor and intelligence are so very, very attractive to him. and of course, your looks and natural beauty were stunning. he’s protective of you and would prefer you rather not get involved in any of his business endeavors.

-even though he insists on not bringing you into his craziness, he wants to help you out and provide for you as much as he can. his acts of service have ranged from his captains running errands for you to even giving you large monetary gifts every few months.

smut under the cut!! minors DO NOT INTERACT FROM HERE!

-good god, sex with mafia boss! wonwoo would go two ways: rough sex with you screaming and begging for mercy or soft sex with you whimpering and moaning his name, telling you to hold your cum in until he says you can release it. either way, his dominance will be asserted.

-has multiple pet names for you, but absolutely loves calling you: “little one,” “princess,” “my darling,” and “pretty girl.”

-mafia boss! wonwoo has an OBSESSION with you in lingerie. he. can’t. get. enough. he’s bought you multiple sets, and of course has his favorites. absolutely loves it when you dress up for him, he will roam his calloused hands up and down your body, kissing your stomach as he toys with the hem of your panties.

-one of your sexual encounters was in his gang’s warehouse (before the group’s weekly meeting, so it was empty). he looked so dashing in his green gucci suit, hair pulled back into a bun - the wetness gushing in your panties making it clear you needed him. when he closes and locks the warehouse garage door, he crashes his lips onto yours while his hands grab your ass. he grunted something about missing you and how he needed to feel your tight cunt around him. at the moment, you’re unable to form words, but you feel the exact same way, all you could think about was him while you were working and the last time he fucked you silly. he walks you over to a table, lips still on yours and his hands now moving to take off your blouse. he tosses the white garment to the side, leaving you in your bra and work pants. once the back of your knees hit the edge of the table, he guides you to lay on top, clearing off everything in your way - objects loudly crashing to the floor. he caresses your face as his right hand works the clasps and the zipper on your pants, fingers slowly trailing inside your panties, and lightly touching your clit from the outside. you can help but bite your lip and moan his name, wonwoo smirking in response and he rubs the pad of his fingers around your part. “think you can finish before junghoon (his vice leader) gets here, little one?”

-another wonderful sexual encounter brought out his soft dom side. he wanted to spend some time with you, so you two set a date where he can come over to your place, have some food, and enjoy your company. on the day of, he rings the doorbell to your apartment, bringing with him a bottle of champagne, dressed in a white mock turtleneck with black pants. when you open the door, a smile appears on his face and you take his hand, leading him through the door. you just put him at ease, and he feels so comfortable around you. “i missed you my darling,” he whispers as he kisses your hand, a blush creeping on your cheeks.

-some time passes after dinner, and the two of you are talking in the kitchen with champagne still in your glasses. as you sit on the counter, wonwoo finishes washing the dishes, thanking you for the meal. you shrug and say it was nothing and you didn’t mind, but wonwoo insists that it was something more. “i know i don’t say this a lot, but i want to let you know that i do love you, and you mean a lot to me.” your heart melts at his words and you give wonwoo a hug as he comes back to your side. “i love you too, baby,” you whisper. a few moments later, you delicately press your lips on his, and he seals the deal. your tongues dance together as you continue to kiss, this time your hands are the first to move and they tug at the hem of his turtleneck, pulling it up to reveal some of his abs. he helps you out as his shirt goes higher, and it’s quickly tossed to the other side of the room. he returns the favor by taking off your crop top, revealing the bra that beautifully accentuates your breasts. he licks his lips as he kisses your neck, his hands moving slowly up your thighs. “w-wonwoo,” you whine, “i need you!” “i know, darling, i know,” he responds. “you’ll have everything you want and more tonight.” he carries you bridal style to your bedroom, lips still locked together as gently tosses you onto the bed.

-you’re pretty sure by now your neighbors can hear you moan for your partner, but you could care less right now - wonwoo was thrusting into so deliciously that you body pinged with each movement. he knew your body and he knew how to please you, and tonight he wanted to make sure just how much you meant to him. filthy phrases leave his mouth, calling you his baby girl, how perfect your pussy was for him, and all he wanted was to see your legs covered in his juices. you grasp onto your hotel-like white sheets, your face contorting as his deep voice and dick send you over the edge when he hits your spot and releases his load in you. you breathe heavily as you come too, saying his name over and over as if it was the only thing you knew.

“i love you little one,” he kisses your cheek as he pulls out, embracing you as you cuddle up to his side.

“mmm, i love you too.”

[breezymichelle99]

Viral Soft Launch | LN

Handsomer by Russ (remix)

Summary: Lando and you had always had a very private relationship, always keeping to yourself until a fun little tik tok trend helps you soft launch your relationship.

Warnings: Pretty much none. All fluff. Some sexual innuendo, dirty song lyrics, private relationship, sweet cute bf Lando.

You and Formula one driver, Lando Norris have been dating each other privately for about a year now, there have been rumors but nothing has been confirmed about you two at this time, and to be honest you and Lando liked it that way.. You had been begging him for weeks now to do this silly little Tik Tok trend with you that you had seen other couples doing, even if you didn’t post it to your respective social media accounts you still wanted to make a fun memory with him.

Finally you got him to agree. “Alright Alright, If this is what you want? Tell me what I have to do.” he says with a smirk looking down at you pouting up at him, his thumb running across your bottom lip. “You are the best Lan, I love you so much.” your eyes sparkle at him. You hear him chuckle. “I love you too, Y|N.” his green eyes shining with so much love and admiration for his silly girlfriend. “Okay I'm going to need you to memorize these lyrics.” you say handing him a piece of paper with your handwriting on it. The lyrics to The Remix of Russ’s “Handsomer.” written across it. He looks over at you shaking his head with a laugh. “It's a good thing I love you.” he says, placing a kiss to the top of your head as he leaves you in the living room to practice your part.

After a few hours Lando joins you back in the living room. “I think I’m ready.” he says with a smirk as he watches you practicing your part along with some choreography he feared he would have to learn. You look up at him giving him a wink. “Perfect, me too.” you say pulling him to you and standing on your tippy toes to kiss his perfect little nose. “Here's what I'd like to do.” you say directing him. He lets you drag him around the living room trying to find the best lighting. “Perfection.” you say looking over at Lando glowing in the sunlight of your shared living room. “I want to do each of our parts and then merge them together.” you say. “I’ll do you, you do me.” you say making Lando laugh. “Cut it out Norris.” you laugh playfully shoving him away from you. His dirty mind always getting him into trouble. “Alright alright, sorry serious business, my bad.” he still can’t keep himself from chuckling. You roll your eyes at him. “Since you can’t be serious apparently. You’re going first.” you say pointing for him to return to the designated filming spot. “Bossy much.” he jokes sticking his tongue out at you but doing what he’s told of course. You return the favor sticking out your tongue back at him. Lando raises his eyebrow and opens his mouth to make a comment about putting that tongue to much better use but he decides to keep his mouth shut and do what he’s told.

“Please feel free to have fun with it.” you say winking at him. “So I shouldn’t just stand here like a lump and mumble the lyrics? Rats, that was my whole plan.” he teases you once more. “You know what, never mind.” you sigh walking away, giving up on his continuous bullying and this cute idea you wanted to do with him. “No, no baby come back, I’m sorry I’ll be more serious I swear.” he begs not wanting to see the disappointment on your adorable face any longer. You give him a long side eye. “Ok.” you whisper returning to your filming spot. “Ready when you are princess.” he says with a wink. “On the count of three, okay baby?” you say he nods. “One..Two..Three.” you say pressing Play.

Much to your surprise Lando had really taken his part seriously. “I know I’m fine, but the money makes me handsomer. Walk around, smellin’ like a come-up, and the answer for her problems, but I’m not him, I don’t mind it though. You don’t like me how you think you do, I like it though.” he finishes his part in a fit of laughter. “I'm sorry but this is ridiculous.” he says running his hands through his curls as he rewatches his rap, with both of you laughing hysterically by the end. “Alright missy no more stalling your turn.” he says taking your phone from you. He had no clue what your part was going to be so he was in for a little treat. You take your spot ready whenever he is. You nod. “On the count of three angel face.” he winks. You nod again, locking in. “One..Two..Three.” he says.

“I won’t lie, that extra coin don’t hurt But I gets money baby, I just rather spend yours first. I know for sure the pussy worth more than an Hermes purse.” Lando bites his bottom lip keeping in his gasp as he watches you in pure awe. “I got the best on earth, so that dick better come with some perks. Yeah you fine, and the money caught my eye too but there's a big difference between you and my side dude. You be all up in between them thighs, he’s who I lie to.” you pause winking at him licking your lips. An almost moan leaves Lando’s lips. Damn you were sexy. “You get my titties in your face, he getting side-boob.” you stop laughing hysterically falling into his arms.. You rewatch it laughing hysterically, you both try it a few more times finally deciding to just do it together instead of making separate videos, before you are fully satisfied, each time ending with the pair of you in a fit of uncontrollable laughter. the final take has you both laughing hysterically, lando kissing you softly the pair of you looking at each other completely in love. “That’s it, that's the one.” you say with a soft sweet smile on your face, as you edit the final cut and save it to your phone. Playing it back for Lando.

“This turned out so cute and fun, thanks for convincing me to do it with you.” he laughs, pulling you into his arms. “Thank you for agreeing to do it with me.” you say kissing his cheek gently. You see Lando smirk. “What?” you ask him caressing his cheek with your soft fingertips. “There's no side dude looking at your side boob? Right??” he asks with a laugh. You smack him playfully. “Seriously? Of course not you should know better than that.. You are my one and only Lan.” you smirk. The pair of you stare at each other for a moment before you sigh.

“I know how we like to keep ourselves private so I don’t think we should share it.” you say. Lando can see the sadness in your eyes as the words leave your lips. You knew why you kept things private but sometimes you just really wanted to be able to share the love and joy you had for your sweet boyfriend. He kisses your lips softly. “Whatever you think is best princess, at least we have the moment for us.” he says . There is something mischievous in his eyes. You let out a sigh. “It's probably for the best.” you say setting your phone down on the table, kissing Lando on the cheek and heading into the kitchen to grab a drink. Lando smirks. He had a plan.

He takes your phone and sends the video to himself. He knows the reason why you two had remained private about your relationship but he thought it was about time he shared the love he had for the most beautiful sweet girl he had ever known. You walk back into the living room to grab your phone, so you can put on some music while you cook for the two of you. He knew this was the perfect opportunity. He heard you digging around in the cupboard pulling out pots and pans, the soft hum of Martin Garrix coming from where you were. He smirks as he takes to his instagram to post the video of you two. “You are the answer to all my problems.” he captioned the video after a popular lyric in the song, tagging you and hitting share.. He hears everything in the kitchen stop. He smiles as the video had finally uploaded to his instagram.

“Lando?” he hears you call to him. He can’t help but smirk. “Yeah babe.” he says as you meet him in the hall, phone in hand. You eye him. “You just couldn’t help yourself could you?” you laugh at your idiot boyfriend. He pulls you close. “I couldn’t help it, we looked so cute and had so much fun, I couldn’t let that go to waste, plus you worked so hard to get me to do it with you, and looked so disappointed when we decided not to share it.” he says. “What about our privacy?” you ask him, as he brushes a strand of your hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear. “We’ll deal with it as it comes my love, there isn’t a single thing we can’t handle together.” he says kissing your lips reassuring you that everything was going to be alright. At this time you were sure the internet was probably going wild with your relationship finally confirmed.

You decide to follow Lando’s lead and share his post to your story. “#SoftLaunch I love you 😘 Thanks for being silly with me babe. You are my everything 🥰” you were so happy you finally got to share this love you had with everyone. Lando’s fans were going crazy, loving you two finally going public. There had been so many rumors since you’d been in the paddock so much but you two had always been careful about putting your relationship into the public eye but it was kind of refreshing to finally be out in the open sharing your love for each other and being able to announce your relationship in such a fun way, which fans were absolutely loving. You couldn’t wait to be able to get him to do the next Tik Tok trend with you.

The End.

[alwaysmoncheri]

summary: you’re starting to feel a little insecure among the other women in the bau, but spencer notices and silences your worries

cw: female!reader, kissing, fluff, cheesy writing, like one sexual innuendo from derek ( what’s new ? ), mutual pinning, insecurities, anxiety, comparisons of looks to others, 925, spencer reid x reader

<3

you sit at your desk in the bustling bau office, surrounded by the brilliant minds and gorgeous faces that make up the team. as you sift through case files and organize data, you can't help but feel a subtle twinge of insecurity. the women in the bau are a formidable force – confident, competent, and effortlessly balancing the demands of the job with their own personal charm.

emily prentiss exudes authority, her presence commanding respect. jj effortlessly juggles motherhood and her role in the unit, displaying a poise you can't help but admire. penelope garcia's vibrant personality seems to light up the room, and you wonder if your more reserved nature fits into this dynamic team.

amidst the collective intelligence and strength, you find yourself questioning your place. your eyes wander to the mirror on your desk, and for a moment, you scrutinize your reflection. the nagging thought that you don't quite measure up to the elegance and confidence of your female colleagues lingers in the back of your mind.

as the day progresses, you try to focus on the tasks at hand, pushing aside the self-doubt that threatens to overshadow your abilities. spencer reid, the brilliant and socially awkward genius, that you love, is engrossed in his work on the other side of your adject desks. you've always admired his intellect, the way his mind operates on a different plane, and you’ve shamelessly loved him ever since you’d first met. 

the team engages in discussions, exchanging ideas and theories. spencer, as usual, offers his insights with a level of eloquence that captivates everyone in the room. yet, in the midst of the professional banter, you can't shake the feeling that you fall short in comparison. you not only feel as though your mind can’t contribute the same thoughts and helpful comments as the rest of the team but you feel a tinge of insecurity toward your appearance. the way you look is far from beauty standards, you try to put on make-up but it never turns out to look like emily, jj, or penelope’s. 

in a rare moment of respite, you find yourself alone near the coffee machine where you pull out your compact and check your reflection in the mirror. the longer you look at yourself, the more flaws you seem to find, and the more you think about the group’s discussions, the more judgment you feel toward yourself. 

spencer notices you from the doorway and he frowns before proceeding any closer. when you finally notice him grabbing himself a fresh cup of coffee, you snap your compact closed as if you’ve been caught. spencer glances at you, his expression kind but perceptive. "everything okay?" he asks, his tone gentle.

you hesitate for a moment, then decide to be honest. "I don't know, spencer. I can't help but feel a bit out of place sometimes. I mean, look at the other women in the bau. they're all so... confident and put together. I don't know if I fit in."

spencer furrows his brow, considering your words carefully. "you know, I used to feel the same way when I first joined the bau. I was the youngest, and everyone seemed so sure of themselves. but confidence isn't always about how put together someone is. it's about knowing your worth and embracing your differences."

his words resonate with you, and for a moment, the weight on your shoulders seems to lift. "but look at them," you gesture towards your female colleagues and spencer follows your gaze, "they are all so... stunning. I can't help but feel like I don't quite measure up." you admit sheepishly and spencer immediately understands your insecurity. 

spencer's eyes soften, and he offers a small, understanding smile. "beauty is subjective, and everyone has their own unique qualities. it's not just about appearances; it's about the way you carry yourself, your intelligence, your kindness. you have your own charm, and you're more than enough just the way you are." spencer explains, hesitantly touching your shoulder and softly rubbing up and down. his reassurance is like a soothing balm, calming the storm of self-doubt that rages within you. the way he sees beyond the surface, acknowledging your strengths, makes you feel valued in a way you hadn't anticipated.

“thank you, spence.” you whisper, turning to face him with a hint of a smile. 

"you're an incredible person," spencer states, his voice sincere as he nods his head at your thanks. "and I'm grateful to have you as a colleague and a friend."

you can’t help but smile, feeling a warmth in your chest. spencer's acknowledgment goes beyond professional; it speaks of the genuine connection between the two of you. a connection that often brought constant teasing from other members of the bau team. you know you aren’t really just friends, but you enjoy spencer’s statement nonetheless.  

“let’s go loverbirds, you’ve been on break for long enough,” derek calls from just outside the doorway, “plenty of time to do whatever you were doing.” he adds, wiggling his eyebrows at the two of us. 

spencer’s face turns beat red while you roll your eyes with a smile tugging at your lips. you then lean up to give spencer a quick kiss on his jaw and whisper another quick thank you. you turn on your heel and walk out the door, turning one last time to see spencer’s mouth slightly agape and cheeks even rosier than before. you smile to yourself, now knowing that you have no reason to be insecure, and spencer helped you realize that. 

masterlist . spencer reid masterlist . taglist

thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!

alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

[scarlethexelove]

hi, can you please do agatha harkness x fem reader, where reader was sexually abused by ex girlfriend badly and has trauma so agatha helps to overcome it? their first time being together...

Soft

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader

Word Count: 1684

Warnings: Soft sex, Smut, Soft Agatha, Fingering, Oral, just fluffy smut

Pt 1

A/n: I hope it is ok that I'm making this as a second part to my other fic. Aggie is just so sweet and soft and caring. I just can't with her. Hopefully this is ok and what you wanted.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

Your clothes slip off your body as you undress after the most perfect date with the perfect woman. Agatha has been so gentle and caring. She always checks on your boundaries after you explained your past to her. You don’t know how you lucked out on finding her but you are so grateful. 

You turn around to admire Agatha as she slips her clothes off. She is only left in her bra and panties. “Aggie.” She hums, turning around to look at you. “Oh shit. I’m sorry sweetheart.” She adverts her eyes from your already naked form. “Aggie it’s ok. You can look.” You say a bit shy. She looks back at you, her eyes filled with admiration for you. She always respects your body and always takes your feelings into account. You make your way closer to her and take her hand in yours looking up into her eyes. You give her a soft smile. “I think I’m ready to try.” Your voice is soft. 

Agatha looks at you searching for any hint of hesitation but finds none. She gives you a soft smile back. “Are you sure sweetheart?” You give her a nod. “You make me feel safe and loved. I’m ready to try.” You see nothing but the love and admiration she has for you. “If you are sure then I would be happy to. But if at any point you want to stop just tell me and we will stop. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

Your heart melts with her concern for you. It has been many months of therapy for you to get to this point. You have gone to both personal therapy and couples therapy. It’s not that you needed to do couples therapy but you both wanted to learn about each other and you both could work on slowly introducing sex back into your life if you so wish. There have been countless conversations about your boundaries. It has never been too much to go over it multiple times in order to make sure that you are comfortable and you are so thankful for that. 

Agatha takes your hand and leads you towards the bed. As you crawl on the bed Agatha strips down the rest of the way. You can’t help but stare at how beautiful she looks. She catches you staring which makes you blush and looks down. She crawls on the bed moving to hover over you. She gently lifts your chin and kisses you softly. “You’re so beautiful baby.” She whispers against your lips. “Not as beautiful as you.” You whisper back, making Agatha shake her head. “I have never seen someone more beautiful than you.” If possible your cheeks turn a darker shade of red. 

The sound of your heartbeat is all that you can hear as your anxiety spikes. You tense slightly when Agatha gently grabs your hips and kisses your neck. She stops immediately feeling you tense. “Do you want me to stop?” She asks you worried. “No.” You shake your head. “Sorry.” Her thumb rubs gently against your skin which makes you relax. She pecks your lips softly. “Okay.” She smiles. “Just try and relax and I will do all the work.” You nod at her words as you lean back and try your best to relax.

Agatha kisses your neck starting to trail kisses down from your neck and to your chest. She is making sure not to leave any marks behind as she works her way down. She wants to make sure not to cross your boundaries that you set. She trails down further until she is laying between your legs. “Is this ok?” She asks you. “Yes.” It comes out a bit breathy as you nod, you’re already getting worked up from her small touches. But not worked up in a bad way, excited for the chance to give all of you to Agatha. 

Soft kisses are placed on your thighs as Agatha gently caresses your hips rubbing soothing circles there. You reach your hand down for her free one looking for a way to ground yourself before you become too overwhelmed. She takes your hand and laces her fingers with yours and smiles softly at you. 

“May I?” Agatha asks. She wants to check in with you every step of the way which makes your heart swell with love. “Yes… Please Aggie , I need you.” You haven’t felt this desperate in so long that you are a little taken aback by how you sound. “Anything for you sweetheart.” She leans in placing a kiss on your clit, which makes you shudder. An old sensation that feels new�� different. 

You squeeze Agatha’s hand as she sucks your clit in her mouth. In all of your talks about boundaries it was agreed upon that your first time would only be mouth and fingers and only two fingers. Agatha doesn’t want to overwhelm you with more, giving you just the perfect combination. She can keep it gentle as she works you up. 

Agatha gently sucks your clit causing a soft moan to tumble from your lips. Agatha feels her chest swell in pride for being able to make you feel safe. Your arousal starts to leak down onto her chin as she licks and sucks at your bundle of nerves. Your hand never leaves her as she grounds you. Any worry you had washing away as she slowly builds you up. She brings her hand not holding yours down, slowly teasing your entrance with one finger. 

Iridescent eyes find yours silently asking your permission. You nod your head breathing heavily as you look down at the woman between your legs. She slowly pushes her finger into your waiting hole. Once fully pushed in she lets you get used to feeling. The feeling is slightly overwhelming causing you to grip her hand harder. She gently rubs her thumb on the back of your hand trying to relax you. After a moment your grip relaxes and she starts to slowly thrust her finger. 

You hate to admit how embarrassingly fast the knot in your stomach is growing. The new feeling and how soft and attentive Agatha is being is bringing you closer to the edge. Your hips start to lightly buck into her face the more comfortable you feel with the woman. You can feel her smile against you as you do so. Her finger curling as she pulls out hitting that perfect spot inside of you. Moans start to tumble from your lips the more pleasure that you feel. 

Agatha adds her second finger stretching your walls more as she builds you. Her expert tongue toying with your clit has your walls clenching around her fingers. She can feel how close you are getting. Your hips buck as your thighs tighten around her head. A pleasure that you never thought you would welcome again slowly taking over. 

Agatha can tell you're close to falling over the edge as she works you up keeping a gentle and slow pace. “Cum when you're ready baby.” She mumbles against your clit. The vibrations sending you over the edge. You moan as your thighs clamped around her head. Your walls pulsing around her fingers as you coat them with your cum. Your hips wildly buck when she sucks on your clit. She rides you through your high before it starts to become too overwhelming for you. 

You close your eyes feeling tears well up. Agatha stops and pulls away slowly not wanting to hurt you. When she sees the look on your face and you open your eyes she panics. “I’m so sorry baby. Did I hurt you? Oh god I’m so sorry.” You can see the panic and worry written all over her face as she sits up and looks you over. She sees the unshed tears and panics more. You shake your head. “I’m ok.” The tears were happy tears. You had thought that you would never be able to be intimate with another woman after your ex but here you are with the most amazing woman ever. 

Agatha doesn’t buy it though still worried that she has some how fucked it up and ruined all of your progress. You shake your head and pull her hand towards you gently kissing the back. “I’m happy Aggie. I can’t thank you enough.” You tell her admiration for the woman in front of you. You can see her relax at your words so thankful that she didn’t hurt you. She moves to lay down next to you. You instantly move closer to her and she wraps her arms around you tightly pulling you closer to her. “No need to thank me baby. I would do anything for you.” 

You can tell Agatha wants to kiss you but is hesitant. Your juices are still coating her lips. “Aggie, you can kiss me.” You tell her. “Are you sure? If you aren’t ready I can go brush my teeth and clean up.” You shake your head with a wide smile on your face. So thankful for her always putting your needs above her own. “Kiss me.” You mumble leaning towards her. She can’t resist you and meets you halfway there as your lips meet. It’s odd to taste yourself on her lips but oddly satisfying.  

When the two of you pull back you lay your head on her chest as the room falls into a peaceful silence. “What about you?” You look up at the older woman breaking the silence. She shakes her head with a soft smile. “Tonight was about you sweetheart. Don’t worry about me.” You're hesitant. “Are you sure?” Agatha kisses your head. “Absolutely, I don’t need anything other than you. You can next time, how about that?” You smile and nod. “Next time.” You whisper as you cuddle in closer. Both of you slowly drift off to sleep in each other's arms. Content with life and excited about the progression of your relationship. It isn’t always this easy in the future but you always work together to make things right.

[saturngas]

his kisses

imagine the evolution of your kisses with satoru. the first kiss you shared, he was almost pissing his pants, cheeks red from both excitement and nervousness. you were the epitome of perfection in his eyes, so he couldn’t just believe your hearts agreed to be in sync. the first kiss was more of just a peck, a small peck that felt almost like sex for satoru. his touch ghosted over your lips. it made him want more.

the second kiss was more certain and fearless. it was longer and your lips met each other’s a lot more, almost parting to leave your mouths exposed to the other’s. satoru was confident enough to grab your waist. and just as it ended, your gaze locked with satoru’s, his bright azure eyes as mesmerizing as ever, wanting more kisses with him

your kisses were progressing along your relationship with the sweet boy, growing more intense to the point where you both would end up breathless. satoru’s hands were becoming more shameless and clingier, grabbing you in a strong hold to draw your lips nearer to his.

his big hands grip your face when your kisses exclaim love, letting the other know how much admiration and respect there is for the other. slow and very long kisses that often come before satoru leaves for a mission. it’s a better and more loving way to wish him a safe trip.

kisses while holding tightly and squeezing your hips were the precursor of most of your sexual activities. though satoru’s touches sometimes begin with his hands grasping your waist, they rapidly caress their way down your hips, grinding your crotch to his, preparing you for what’s to come.

when his hands grab your waist, his kisses are messy, eager, intense, yet tender. they happen when satoru feels super clingy, claiming you as he presses your body against his larger form. these kisses are his preferred to display at public since they aren’t as private as the other two. it’s a common sight to see satoru having a strong hold on your waist. it was mainly to have you close to him, preferably under the secure confines of his infinity, but also to have a quick access to your lips. he just needs twist your body with little force, and both your chests are pressed together while his lips enthusiastically reach for you.

satoru never gets tired of kissing you. even though your first kiss was more of a peck, you know wake up from his kisses and go to sleep after a long, passionate kiss. your lips remind them daily of the infinite love you have for him, and he can’t see himself without your dear touch.

taglist: @snwvie @fanficsforkicks @soulaires <3

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 36: Severed

Joel, Tommy and Ellie search for you. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-35 found on Tumblr here.

I'm sorry I couldn't resist.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence and a step beyond. Torture. Mention of past sexual assault (not described). No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 8.2k

A/N: I want to state, real quick, that Bambi is NOT going to be sexually assaulted again. This is a highly triggering subject and, given the situation she's in, I understand if folks are bracing for it. That's not going to happen. The threat of it is there but it's not going to happen.

We are into the final arc of Yearling and we are going to see some TLOU 2 OVERLAP again. There isn't any this chapter but there will be in this arc and here's how: a character from that game will be mentioned as will the spoiler-y incident from a few chapters ago. What happens plot wise in this arc is completely separate from the game and entirely original content BUT there is that character overlap and more specific mentions of the incident and the motives behind it. This character returns NEXT CHAPTER. If you're trying to go in blind to season 2, it might be wise to step back. Feel free to send me a DM, I'm happy to answer any and all questions!

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Joel had rarely paid much mind to how long it took to get out of Jackson before. 

“Tommy,” Maria was stalking after her husband as he, Joel and Ellie headed for the stable. “Be reasonable, you can’t just take off…” 

“Sorry, babe, but I can’t just sit here and let ‘em have a piece of her,” Tommy said as they went to the stable. There were the two horses Tommy and Joel had just returned on, the three that had carried the kids back, and some horses you’d been working with. You’d been telling Joel about their progress, how one was nearing well broke and you wanted him to go with you to the shooting range with her soon to get her accustomed to the sound of gunfire. 

“Do you have some kind of death wish you haven’t bothered to tell me about?” Maria planted herself in front of her husband, her arms crossed, defiant. “You have responsibilities here, Tommy! People who depend on you, people like me and our fucking son! You don’t get to just take off at your brother’s command anymore!” 

Joel stiffened at that. He and Maria had gotten to a good place in their relationship over the years, her moving past the thought that he’d been the driving force behind all her husband’s misdeeds. They’d settled into a mutual respect and eventual affection since he’d come to Jackson, Maria seeming to appreciate what he did for the community and the way he loved her son and Joel admiring her leadership and the way she was a partner to his little brother. He thought they were past this. 

Maybe he was wrong. 

Tommy took his wife’s shoulders in his hands, his thumbs rubbing little circles against her. 

“If it were you, he’d be going with me,” he said gently. “That’s my baby sister out there, Maria. Can’t live with myself if something happens to her and I didn’t do everything I can to stop it. I’m goin’. You can either help and hope we get back soon or you can be pissed while I’m gone but I’m goin’, you can’t stop me.” 

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and went and stood beside Joel, looking over the horses. 

“What’s better,” he asked. “Tired mounts or ones that might spook?” 

Joel looked at his brother for a moment, thankful that he had him to rely on, and ground his teeth. He didn’t know the answer. 

“They’re on foot,” Ellie said, joining them. “Tired is probably better, we’re still going to catch them. But I don’t expect this to be quiet and if we’re on horses that spook, well…” 

Joel gave her a stiff nod and went to get the horses ready to leave. He was moving as quickly as he could but it felt slow, everything felt so slow. It felt like he should be running, pushing himself to the brink so he could reach you sooner. Every second you were away from him hurt. It was worse than when you’d left Jackson to search for Savvy in the blizzard. That had been bad enough but at least then he could believe that you were in one piece, that you could take care of yourself. 

That wasn’t the case now. He knew you weren’t safe. He knew you weren’t OK. He knew he’d vowed to protect you, the night the two of you made promises to each other in his bed he had sworn to keep you safe and never let anything happen to you. 

He’d failed at that. 

He’d failed and now he was here, doing what he had to do to make sure he could reach you. It just didn’t feel like enough. Nothing would, not until he held you again. 

Tommy and Maria talked in low, harsh voices until they had things situated. Food, water, ammunition, medical kit.

“Tommy,” Joel said, jerking his head toward the horses, voice sharper than he’d meant it to be. His brother jogged over to him, taking the reins of his horse from him. 

“The guys who brought the kids back are going to wait here until a few more crews come in,” Tommy said. “Then they’re coming out after us. We can mark a path. With fresher horses, they’ll catch us quick.” 

Joel nodded stiffly and the three of them led their horses to the gate, Maria following with her arms crossed over her stomach. In another situation, Joel would have taken the time to talk with her and reassure her. He didn’t have the luxury of time now. 

He mounted up as the gates opened, Ellie and Tommy following suit, the three of them riding through the gate the moment there was room. 

“Joel!” Maria called after a moment. He looked back at her. “Bring my husband home.” 

He watched her for a moment, at the fear on her face and in her wide eyes, a mirror of what he was feeling now. But she was still letting him go. He wasn’t sure he could do the same in her position.

“I will.”

 Ellie took the lead, pointing out the spot in the fence where kids left town. Joel ground his teeth and resisted the urge to yell yet again. What good would it do? What was done was done and this lesson was one he doubted Ellie would forget. She didn’t need to be taught it again.

They rode for nearly two hours when they came upon a small clearing and Ellie jumped off her horse before it had even come to a stop. 

“We were here,” she said, looking around, almost panicky. “We were here, I know we were, they had us behind that tree…” 

She ran over to it, walking around it until Joel couldn’t see her anymore. 

“Ellie!” He called. He couldn’t have her out of sight, not right now. 

“I was right,” she called back, coming around the tree. “I took a chunk of bark off of it, this is where we were but they’re gone, completely fucking gone, I don’t…” 

Joel was less surprised than Ellie. 

“They weren’t about to sit and wait for us to find ‘em,” he said. “We need to track ‘em. We’ll find them.” 

He, Tommy and Ellie circled the clearing on foot, looking for signs of a trail. It didn’t take them long to find one. Unfortunately, they found more than one. 

“The fuckers split up,” Tommy kicked a plant in frustration. “Any way to tell which group had her?” 

“Smaller boot prints, maybe,” Joel said, looking closely at the ground. 

“But there were other women,” Ellie said. Joel’s head snapped toward her. “They had a few women. I didn’t talk to them but… She wouldn’t be the only one.” 

“We can’t split up,” Tommy said. “It’s too goddamn risky, there are too fuckin’ many of ‘em, we have to stick together…” 

Joel nodded, trying to think. He tried to keep his shit together but he could feel it happening, the panic setting into his bones. He could hear the blood in his ears, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He was having a hard time taking a full breath, his head spun. He reached out, his hand finding a tree trunk, giving him something to root him to the ground. 

“Joel?” Ellie’s hand appeared at his back. “Hey, you can’t die on us right now, we have to get her back, you can’t do this now, you gotta keep it together, you hear me?” 

He nodded quickly, closing his eyes for a moment. His mind scrambled for something - anything - to hold him here, something to make him push past the fear and do what he had to do. 

He thought of you. 

He thought of the first time he’d felt your body against him, on the back of a horse in the snow-covered forest. The first time he’d held you because you wanted him to, how you’d sought comfort in him. The first time he’d kissed you, how your lips had fit softly against his, the quick little breaths you’d made, the way you’d felt so close to him. The first time he’d touched you as his wife, how your body was so familiar to him but was brand new, too, with this new context. You were his, he was yours and he needed to keep himself together long enough to get you home. 

He took a deep, shaky breath. 

“We follow one trail,” he said. “We either find her or we find the people at the end of it. If she ain’t with ‘em, we get ‘em to tell us where she is.” 

“You really think they’re just going to, what, tell you whatever you want to know?” Ellie gaped at him. “They’re not going to just answer your fucking questions, Joel!”

“Wasn’t plannin’ on askin’ nice,” Joel said, stalking back toward the horses. “We follow the middle track. See where it leads.” 

Joel knew he should feel some kind of shame about what he was about to do. What he wanted to do, how he wanted to hurt them. He’d never told Ellie the finer points of what he and Tommy used to do - still did, when the need arose. He’d never told her what he did to find her when David had her and he was desperate. She knew he used to kill people, he thought she had some idea of just what that entailed but he’d protected her from the worst of it, the most shameful parts. 

Now, he was hungry for it. If he were a dog, he’d be salivating for it, aching to get his jaws around the throat of the man who had taken you from him. He didn’t want to just kill him, that wasn’t enough. It hadn’t been enough the year before when he’d sent him away from Jackson and it wasn’t enough now when he was doing who knows what to you. He was going to enjoy pulling him apart, piece by fucking piece. He almost hoped that Cody wasn’t with the men they were tracking, that he’d find you and have the chance to take every ounce of pain from them before finding Cody and taking it from him, too. He couldn’t even regret the drive to do it or the fact that he knew he could do it and do it well. His only concern, after finding you, was exposing Ellie to that. 

But they lived in a harsh world. Maybe it was good for her to know the harsher parts of it. 

Joel led the way, slower going now that they were beyond where Ellie knew the group to be. They were carefully tracking a group of what looked like seven people - including two women - for hours. It was dusk when Tommy noticed the signs of people first, giving a low whistle that sounded something like a bird. Joel looked over his shoulder and Tommy nodded toward a patch of sky he could see through the trees. Joel looked up. There was smoke. 

He dismounted and tied his horse off, Ellie and Tommy doing the same, before the three of them prowled, quiet and slow, toward the smoke. It wasn’t long before they could smell it, hear the quiet laughs of men. Joel tightened his jaw and his grip on his gun. His heart raced. 

The group they came upon largely had their guard down. Joel spotted someone through the trees, beyond the fire, looking like they were patrolling. Otherwise, they weren’t paying any attention. Joel gestured to Tommy and Ellie, sending them behind larger trees, Joel going to one himself. He peered around the thick trunk to find them there, make sure these weren’t just innocents passing through and seeing if he could catch a glimpse of you. 

But they weren’t innocents, a woman with her hands bound sitting beside one of the men at the fire, another one - also tied - with her back against a tree. There was no sign of you or Cody. 

Tommy met Joel’s gaze, his face set and determined. Joel gave him a stiff nod before turning to Ellie, her own expression hardened with barely controlled rage. She didn’t even look at Joel, too busy watching the men around the tree. 

Joel took a deep breath and raised his gun, stepping around the tree and firing, catching the man with his back to them in his head. He fell forward with a thud. 

There was a moment of stunned silence, the only sound birds fleeing the crack of the gun. Then, it was chaos, the men scrambling for weapons. One of the women screamed. 

“Need two alive!” Joel yelled to his brother and daughter, pressing closer and firing again, felling another man. 

Tommy shot next, a third man going down. A bullet whizzed past Joel’s head, close enough that he felt the heat of it on his skin, the shot clipping his ear. He ignored the sharp pain of it, watching as the shot Ellie got off dropped a fourth man. The fact that they’d caught the men when they’d stopped for the night was to their advantage. They were clearly used to traveling in a larger group and running unchallenged, only watching for infected who often made themselves known with crackling breaths, the sound of crunching through the brush and sharp clicks. They weren’t expecting a small group to come in, guns blazing. They were slow getting their weapons, rifles on the ground and out of reach, making picking them off like shooting fish in a barrel. Joel shot the man on watch as he came running toward the fire, his gun raised and aimed at Joel. 

Tommy charged forward and grabbed a man who was just getting to his feet, his back toward the three of them. He was just raising his gun when Tommy swung the butt of his rifle at his head, catching the man in the temple and knocking him off balance. He took advantage of the moment and ripped the weapon out of the man’s hands, casting it aside before shoving him to the ground and putting his boot in his chest. Tommy leveled his rifle at his head, holding the man in place. 

“Got one!” He yelled to Joel. 

There were two men left standing now, one reaching for a gun. Ellie shot him in the shoulder before Joel got a chance to react, sending him sprawling on the ground. The other was smarter. He grabbed the nearest woman and pulled her in front of him as she screamed, pressing a gun to her head, his eyes darting between Joel and Ellie. 

“Keep coming and I kill ‘er,” he panted. 

“Joel,” Ellie’s eyes darted toward him. “What do we do?” 

“Let me go,” the man said, the woman in his grip trembling. “Him too, and I leave her alive.” 

Joel didn’t have time for this. He moved quickly, raising his gun and firing, hitting the man in the middle of his forehead. The woman screamed again, covered in his blood and stumbling forward as his body went limp on of her. 

“Shit,” Ellie lowered her gun, looking at Joel. “I thought we needed two.” 

“Think we got two,” he stalked over to the man Ellie had hit in the shoulder. He was whimpering on the ground, clutching the hole that was gushing blood. 

“Please,” he said, eyes wide. Joel ignored him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and dragging him to the man Tommy still had at gun point. He dropped the man there with a pained groan and he looked to the women, the one who had been a hostage sitting up next to the body of the man who’d had her. 

“C’mere,” Joel said. They looked at each other quickly but stayed still. Joel, again, resisted the urge to yell. He didn’t have time for this. “Ellie, cut ‘em loose, tell ‘em how to get to Jackson if they want. Give ‘em whatever they need. See what they know.”

Joel turned his attention back to the man on the ground, going down on one knee beside him. He grabbed his hair in his fist, forcing his eyes to meet his own. 

“You’re gonna tell me what I wanna know,” Joel said. “And you’re gonna do it quick. Understand?” 

“Why would we tell you a goddamn thing?” The man below Tommy asked, watching Joel. His words were quick, panicky. Joel looked back at him for a moment before he ripped the injured man’s hand away from his wound with one hand and thrust his thumb inside the bullet hole, pressing up into the tendon below his skin. The man thrashed and screamed, the shrill sound sharp and cutting. Joel left his thumb jammed inside him until the other man spoke again, his eyes wide. “Fuck, OK! OK! What do you want to know, we’ll tell you! We’ll tell you, please!” 

Joel pulled his thumb free of the man’s body and wiped the blood on a clean spot on his shirt, turning his full attention back to the man below him. 

“Should get one thing straight now,” Joel said. His voice was flat. “I don’t mind hurtin’ you. In fact, I like it. Like gettin’ justice for everything you’ve done wrong in this life. I can promise you’ve done a lot wrong and I can promise I can make you pay for every goddamn ounce of it in blood. I know how to make it last. But I’m in a hurry and I want this over quick. It’s in your best interest to give me what I want. Got it?” 

The man gave a shaky nod. 

“Your boss has got my wife,” Joel said. “You split up. I need to know where he’s takin’ her.” 

“He gave us a meet up point,” he said, voice shaking. “We were afraid of someone coming after her, he had us split up, he’s got her not us, I swear…” 

Joel ground his teeth. 

“Where.” 

“I don’t know where he’s taking her,” he said quickly. “I know where we’re supposed to meet him tomorrow, that’s all! I swear, I don’t know where he’s going.” 

Joel thrust his thumb inside the gunshot wound again, plunging it deeper, pulling harder at the structure of him as he screamed and writhed. 

“No, stop!” The man below Tommy begged. “We don’t know, we don’t know! We just know he was taking her to trade, that’s all we know!” 

Joel froze before pulling his thumb from his body. He grabbed the man’s hair again, forcing him to look at him. 

“Trade?” His heart was pounding. “Trade for what.” 

“Territory,” the man panted. “Please, there’s a guy who wants ‘er, promised us territory if we got her for him, that’s all I know. He was going to try and meet with him, see if they can cut a deal. If he couldn’t find him or couldn’t get what he wanted, he’s meeting us in the morning.” 

Joel looked to Tommy, his face hard. Tommy just gave him a nod. It seemed like the truth. Joel turned back to the man. 

“You’re gonna tell me where the rendezvous point is,” he said. “And you’re gonna keep it real quiet and then we’re gonna ask your friend the same question and he’d better say the same place as you. Got it?” 

Joel leaned in close, the rattle of the man’s pained breaths hot and wet on his ear. 

“North, ten miles,” he said. “Where the rivers meet.” 

Joel sat back from him and looked to the other man. 

“Now you,” he said. “Better say the same damn thing as your fuckin’ friend.” 

The man’s eyes darted toward Tommy, who pressed the gun closer. 

“Don’t look at me,” Tommy said. “I ain’t savin’ ya. You wanted to live? Shouldn’t have taken my brother’s girl. Answer the question.” 

“North of here,” he said, looking back to Joel. “Said they’d be there in the morning, we were just stopping to rest for a bit, that’s all…” 

“Where north of here.” 

The man’s eyes darted to his friend before looking back at Joel. 

“Ten miles or so,” he said. “There’s a spot where two rivers meet…” 

Joel nodded slowly and looked to Tommy before getting his knife out. 

“No,” the man below him shook his head. “No, I told you what you wanted to know, I didn’t lie, it was the truth I swear it was the truth!” 

“Oh, I know it was,” Joel said, adjusting his grip on the knife. “But you took my daughters, took my wife. Not about to just let you live.” 

He thrust the knife into the man’s stomach and he gasped, his eyes and mouth gaping wide in a silent scream. Joel angled the blade up, forcing it towards his lungs before twisting it and pulling it free with a harsh tear. He wiped the weapon on the man’s pants before getting to his feet, watching as he tried to hold himself together, not able to take a full breath. He’d drown in his own blood before too long and Joel wanted to watch him do it. This man had taken everything from him. He was owed his suffering. 

“Joel,” Tommy said, nodding down at the remaining man at the end of his gun, one who was clearly about to make a run for it. He knew he was done for, he was desperate. “What are we doin’?” 

“Shoot ‘im,” Joel said. “Not worth the risk.” 

Tommy obeyed, the man dead even had a chance to flinch. Joel went back to watching the the first man gasp and gargle, fighting to breathe and failing. He should feel something, he knew that. He should feel guilt or some kind of pity. He didn’t. He barely even felt satisfaction. You were gone. He was hollow of everything beyond pain and fear and rage. 

“Joel,” Ellie’s voice was quiet behind him. He turned to face her, her eyes wide as she looked between him and the dying man. He’d almost forgotten she was there. 

“Get the women out?” Joel asked, shifting instinctively to block her view of the man suffering at his feet. She peered around him, anyway. 

“Yeah,” she said. “They didn’t know anything. Gave them directions back to Jackson and some guns from these assholes. I don’t know that they’ll end up there but…” 

She looked at the man again for a long moment before looking up at Joel. 

“Did you get an answer?” She asked. “Do we know where Mom is?” 

His chest got tight, hearing Ellie call you that, knowing that he shared children with you and you were gone. 

“We know where Cody’s headed,” Joel said. “Let’s get what we can from here and head out.” 

The three of them took ammunition and weapons and food from the dead before mounting up, Joel taking the lead again. 

It only took a few hours to reach the place the men indicated. The group had stopped here before, Joel could tell. There were signs of fire pits, places where fallen logs had been dragged over for places to sit, cleared brush. 

“What do we do now?” Ellie asked. 

“We wait,” Joel said, not happy about his answer. How was he supposed to just sit here when you were out there, with them? But he didn’t have another choice. 

They got the horses settled and found places to watch and wait where they should see people coming and have the advantage. Joel settled in, Ellie sitting beside him while Tommy kept watch. 

“Where’d you learn how to do that?” She asked eventually, quietly into the dark. 

“Do what,” he asked, even though he knew. 

“Hurt someone like that,” she said. “Make them give you information.” 

Joel was quiet for a moment, twisting his wedding band over and over on his finger. 

“You know some of what me ’n Tommy did after the outbreak,” he said. “Did some of that, too.” 

She nodded slowly.

“You never talk about it.”

Joel shrugged. The sound of crickets seemed loud, louder than they should be. 

“Not exactly somethin’ I’m proud of, baby girl.”

“But it’s useful,” she said pointedly. 

He sighed. 

“I’ve used it a few times since, when it’s important,” he said. “When it’s to protect you or her. It’s not somethin’ that’s good to know how to do.” 

“I want to know how to protect people, too,” she said, her voice dark. “I have shit to protect, too, Dad. I want to know how.” 

Joel sighed, looking over at her, the outline of her barely visible in the light of the moon as it filtered down through the trees. 

He wanted to tell her that she didn’t need to know this stuff. That he would always be there to look after her, to do these ugly things that needed doing. But he knew that wasn’t true. 

He’d doomed her to this life, in a way. One where she wanted to know how to pull answers out of someone with pain, how to turn the love you carried for the most important people in the world into a deadly weapon. There was no other way to be in this reality, one with infected and raiders and the last gasp of human kind struggling to continue on. If he’d left the doctor alive, at least, maybe things would be different. Maybe he’d have succeeded without Ellie, maybe the world would have been better for her eventually. 

But he would have come after her and there was no point in fixing the world if it had to continue on without her in it. Good, bad, indifferent, there was no point to any of it if the price was her life. Hers or yours or Savvy’s, the three of you were all that mattered. And he liked knowing he had skills he could fall back on if he needed them. 

“We’ll take care of what needs doin’ now,” Joel said. “Then we can talk.” 

The three of them took turns keeping watch. Joel wasn’t able to sleep. Instead, he thought of you. How he’d had to coax you into life in Jackson, how you’d come to find your place there, how you’d chosen to do all that with him at your side. 

There was a lot in this life he knew he didn’t deserve. He’d never deserved Sarah, that was for damn sure. The world hadn’t deserved her, either. He’d squandered the gift that was her existence, let her down when she’d needed him the most and he’d bourn that weight the rest of his life. He didn’t deserve Ellie, either. He certainly didn’t deserve you, something so strong but soft, vibrant but centering. You were meant for something more than him but you’d chosen him, anyway. He remembered when your fingers first brushed his, when he first heard you play guitar, when he first saw how you loved his daughter like she was your own. He wasn’t sure how he was meant to keep going if he didn’t get you back. What would be the point? Ellie was grown now. Savvy had survived all on her own for years and Ellie had taken her under her wing. They didn’t need him. But he needed you. 

Dawn was just beginning on the horizon when Joel heard it, the sound of people coming in from the north. He roused Ellie and Tommy and the three of them stood, lying in wait amongst the trees, rifles at the ready. 

Joel wanted to come out guns blazing but then he saw Cody, riding on horseback with just two other men. 

They weren’t outnumbered. You weren’t with them. 

Joel readied to step out from the trees, rifle raised. 

“Joel,” Tommy hissed.

“Go around the side,” he said, voice low. “Kill the others. But he’s mine.” 

He moved from behind shelter then, weapon leveled at Cody’s chest.

“Cody!” Joel called, watching as the men’s heads all whipped around to focus on him, scrambling for rifles. “You have what’s mine.” 

Cody lifted a hand to his henchmen and they lowered their weapons as he smirked at Joel. 

“Think she was mine before she was yours,” he sneered. “Seems to me I just took back what got away.” 

“Where is she,” Joel said, prowling closer, straining to keep his voice calm. 

“Back where she belongs,” he said, fishing in his pocket for something. He found it, pulling it out, unwrapping it from a kerchief and throwing it onto the leaves at Joel’s feet. “But you can have the part of her you laid claim to.” 

Joel looked down and his vision narrowed to a sharp, bloody point. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, the soreness of his legs and back and the pain at his ear that had been nagging at him suddenly gone. His hands shook as he dropped the rifle and lowered himself, slowly, to the ground. Lying there were two fingers. Your fingers. The wedding band that had been there since Joel had slipped it onto you was bloody, ragged flesh dangling from the ring he’d made you. 

Something inside of Joel snapped then. It was a sharp, clean break, one that he could he could feel deep at the core of him. A severing of his humanity, a setting aside of the things that made him who he was. The love he held for his family, the care he had for the place he called home, the remaining parts of him that were gentle and good - those things were closed to him now. Joel Miller had been called monster many times in his life but he knew he’d never become one. Not truly. He knew it because this had always been there, lurking below the surface, brought forward when he needed it most but always controlled, always contained. It wasn’t contained now. It couldn’t be. 

Joel left the gun on the ground, gently picking up your fingers - sticky and cool - and putting them delicately in his pocket before getting to his feet.

“Thought about sending you back with her whole hand but,” Cody shrugged. “Mitchum has use for it. Nothing she can’t do down a few fingers, though.” 

Joel didn’t even see Ellie and Tommy getting into position when he roared and lunged for Cody, ready to kill him with his bare hands. 

***

The Day Before 

“Move.” 

You glared at Cody, your wrists chained in front of you. 

“Not telling you again,” he said. “They’re still close enough, we could run ‘em down if you want to try me.” 

Your stomach got tight. 

“Fine,” you said. “Let’s go.” 

He split his men into three groups, hauling the man you’d killed to the brush and leaving his body behind. There were three women you hadn’t seen yet, one going with one of the groups, two with another. You didn’t get a chance to say anything to either of them, just sharing a look of desperation before you were led away. 

“You’re going to regret this,” you said as he shoved you forward. 

“Why, because you’re fucking guard dog is going to run me down?” He sneered. “Think we’ll handle him just fine. Besides, by the time he finds us, you’ll be long gone.” 

You followed his command, trudging through the forest and trying to find some way to leave a trail to follow. Joel would come for you. It would likely be hours yet before he was back from patrol, hopefully long after Ellie and Savvy made it back to town. You knew he’d come looking for you the moment he discovered you were gone, that he’d do anything to get to you. You just needed to make sure he could find you and that you were in one piece when he did. 

“Why are you doing this?” You asked once you’d been walking for hours, looking at Cody. “You said you knew it was wrong, you helped me. Now you’re doin’ this? Takin’ me and other women?”

“Let’s just say I learned my lesson with you, Doll,” he said. “Could try to be a ‘good’ man all I wanted, try to do the ‘right’ thing but it wouldn’t get me anywhere. Not like there’s much left here to live for, right? I should just take what I want while I can, no one is going to give it to me, even if I deserve it.” 

“Deserve it?” You stopped and turned to face him. “You think you deserved something from me? You held me prisoner, you fucking raped me, you…” 

His backhand caught you off guard, sending you sprawling to the ground, unable to catch yourself with your bound hands. He stood astride over you, grabbing your face sharply and forcing you to look at him. 

“Don’t fucking call it that,” he hissed. “That’s not what it was.” 

You spat in his face. 

“Fuck you.” 

He squared his jaw, like he was considering doing something more to you before he straightened, wiping your spit from his cheek. 

“Get her up,” he said. “We’ll stop here for a bit, take a break. Make her take a piss, get her cleaned up a little. Maybe we’ll have some fun before we hand her over.” 

You hoped the fear didn’t show on your face, that the way your stomach dropped and heart stuttered wasn’t obvious. 

It’s not like you didn’t know, consciously, what this was all leading to, what you were going back to. You’d been there for long enough before, you knew what it was and what this meant. 

But you weren’t sure you could survive it again. It had nearly killed you before. If you hadn’t escaped when you had, you weren’t sure how much longer you would have really lasted living that way and now you were going back to it. It would be worth it to protect your children but the fear of it was still there, the claws of it sharp and harsh inside you. 

Cody smirked. 

“Maybe I’ll show you just how nice I was before,” he said. “Show you what you took for-granted.” 

Two men pulled you roughly to your feet and shoved you into the trees, off the trail you’d been walking. Your chest got tight and your stomach turned and you found yourself flexing your fingers, clenching and unclenching your hands into fists as you tried to focus. Your vision threatened to narrow but you forced yourself to see beyond your own body, think beyond the fact that your lungs couldn’t seem to fill and your head was getting light. 

The men pushed you for a few minutes away from the rest, toward a stream. One stayed further back, watching the forest for signs of infected or someone who might come to take you. 

“Alright,” the other said, nodding to you. “You heard ‘im. Piss, get cleaned up.” 

“You think I’m gonna just do that with you watching?” You sneered, brows raised. 

He stalked forward, drawing his gun and pressing it to your chin. 

“You really think I won’t blow your goddamn head off?” He asked, his breath reeking of rot and liquor. 

“No,” you smirked back. “Your boss has you by the balls. You can’t do shit to me.” 

He stepped back and you saw the strike coming that time, dodging it enough that he caught your cheekbone more than your chin and you stayed standing. 

“I can do that,” he snapped. “And I’ll do it again.” 

“Go ahead,” you said. “Because you’re a little bitch. I’ve had good sex that hurt worse than that.” 

He bared his teeth and he went for you again. 

But he was stupid and big and slow and you knew where he was going to be now. You dodged him, not fully thinking and with no real plan. He stumbled where you’d been standing and you stepped behind him, looping your arms around his neck and pulling back so the chain constricted on his throat. 

He choked and gasped, dropping his gun on instinct as he clawed at your arms, trying rip himself free and trying to make a sound but you were pulling too hard, the other man too far to hear or see what was happening. 

The weight of him thrashing against you sent you off balance and you fell, taking him down with you, his body heavy on top of yours. But you didn’t give in, keeping the chain tight over his throat as he kicked and flailed. You held it there until he went limp and you released him, shoving his body off yourself and panting for breath as you did. You didn’t have time to get the feeling back in your body or to ease the panic, though. It was sheer fucking luck the other man who was standing just out of sight hadn’t heard something and you had to take care of this now. 

You found the gun where the man you’d killed - thought you’d killed, at least, you weren’t about to risk shooting him - had dropped it and took a guess at what direction to run in. 

You didn’t make it far. 

“Hey!” You heard the crush of leaves, someone moving for you. “Fuck, she’s running!” 

You turned and shot, the first bullet going wide as your hands shook but you were able to keep it together enough to get off another shot, this one hitting him square in the chest and he dropped like a stone. 

You kept running. 

You weren’t sure how long you ran for when you heard them, the men closing in on you. You couldn’t afford to look back and take the time to shoot, you had to keep moving, even as the sound pressed closer and your head was swimming. And then a hand closed on the collar of your shirt - Joel’s shirt - and ripped you back and down. You twisted on the ground, trying to aim the gun but it was kicked away from you. 

“You’re gonna regret that you little bitch,” the man panted over you. “We could’ve made this easy on you. We ain’t now.” 

He hauled you to your feet by your bound hands and forced you back to where the group had stopped, finding the two other men who had been sent after you on the way. Cody was standing where you’d stopped before, a small fire built on a patch of dirt in the middle of the trail. 

“You really think that was the smartest thing you could have done?” He asked, his voice almost eerily calm. 

“Did you really think I was just gonna let you hand me over?” You replied. “That I’d just go quietly into being a prisoner?” 

“I guess that’s why Mitchum’s so obsessed with you, isn’t it?” He asked, prowling closer. You wanted to shrink away but you couldn’t, not with the man at your back. “Because you just keep that fight in you. You didn’t give up like the others and he’s a man who likes a little fight.” 

He nodded toward the stump of a tree and the man at your back shoved you to it, forcing you to your knees beside it. 

“Thing is,” Cody said, pulling his knife free of its sheath at his belt. “You don’t need to be… intact for the shit he likes best about you.” 

Your eyes darted. You were surrounded, there was nowhere you could go and nothing you could reach. 

“Don’t be too worried about it,” he continued, kneeling on the other side of the stump. “Think he’d be pretty pissed if we took your whole hand, for example. But I don’t think he’ll miss a few fingers.” 

Your heart raced, the blood pounding in your ears. 

“That a risk you want to take?” You fought to keep your voice calm as you clutched your hands tightly to your body. “You really want to go through all this trouble for nothing?” 

He shrugged. 

“Think we’ll be fine.” 

The man at your back took your wrist in his grasp and shoved your arms down to the jagged wood of the stump, your hands clenched in tight fists. Cody took your left one and pulled at your fingers, trying to pry it open as you grimaced and fought him on it. After a moment, he gave up. 

“Fine,” he said. “Don’t want to cooperate?” 

He took the knife and slammed it through your forearm, on the side of it so it missed bone, making you scream as the blade went through the muscle and skin and into the wood on the other side. Your hand went limp on instinct and Cody spread your fingers with one hand, holding the other out. Another man handed him a knife and he lined it up with the base of your ring and pinky finger, smirking a little as he did. 

“Would you look at that,” he traced your wedding band and you tried to look at your hand through the blur of pain and tears. “The feral woman got hitched. You marry that animal of yours, that it?” 

You considered begging. If you thought it had even a chance at working, you’d have done it. But it didn’t.

“Fuck you,” you said instead. 

“Think this’ll make for a nice keepsake of you, if he ever comes looking,” he said, pressing the knife in just enough that you could feel it, even through the pain of the blade still lodged in your arm. “Wedding ring won’t mean much where you’re going, anyway.” 

He started cutting then, the automatic response your body had to pull away ripping and tearing against the knife holding you to the wood. You couldn’t look away from it, even though what little there was in your stomach was threatening to come up and the pain had deafened all the sound around you. You weren’t sure if you were screaming or not but you couldn’t breathe and couldn’t think as you watched part of your body be cut away. 

Cody finished, wiping the knife on your shirt - Joel’s shirt - before passing it back to one of his men. He held your bloody, jagged fingers up, turning them slowly in front of his face. You could hear again, the ragged sound of your breath and the rustle of leaves on the trees, the breeze moving through as though you weren’t being dismantled on the forest floor. 

“Think your guard dog will even still want you now?” He asked, holding them in front of you. Your blood dropped from them onto the sleeve of the shirt. “Not sure he’ll be interested in such… damaged goods.” 

You stared at the fingers in his grip in disbelief. It didn’t seem real, the things you’d used to play guitar and grip the reins of your horse and hold your husband’s hand were separate from you now. You remembered, for a moment, marrying Joel. The clarity of it was almost visceral, how he’d taken the ring that was now slick with your blood and slipped it onto the finger that was dangling before your eyes. It was a part of you then. It wasn’t now. 

Cody held his empty hand out and the man he’d given the knife to returned it. 

“No,” you shook your head, your voice wet and raspy. “Please, I…” 

“Not taking anything else,” he said, his tone almost kind. “Just going to make sure you don’t bleed out on us.” 

With that, he pressed the blade to the place he’d cut part of you away and you screamed, the metal scalding hot. You realized they must have put it in the fire, using the heat to cauterize the wound. Without warning, one of the men pulled the knife that was still in your arm free and the heated blade moved there, too. You could smell your skin burning, the man at your back holding you still as your body fought to escape the pain of it. They moved you around like a rag doll, cauterizing the other side of your arm, too, before stepping back from you. 

“There,” Cody stood, handing the knife off and taking a kerchief from his pocket, wrapping your bloody fingers in it before stashing them away. “Now you should know I’m not fucking around. Get up. We’ve wasted enough time on this shit and Mitchum won’t wait on us forever.” 

The man behind you pulled you to your feet by your shoulders and you swayed on your feet for a moment, your head swimming before you doubled over, vomiting mostly bile before your legs gave out, the man catching you before you hit the ground. 

“Shit,” Cody’s voice sounded far away. “We’ll have to find a way to move her…” 

You passed out. 

When you woke up, it was dark, a hand around your jaw. 

“There she is,” Cody said, releasing you and patting your cheek twice. “Need you up and walking, can’t trade you half dead. Move.” 

You tried to orient yourself, get some kind of understanding. You weren’t where you’d been when you’d passed out. You were on some kind of makeshift litter, your left arm and hand throbbing dully. Your hand was bandaged. Cody grabbed a fistful of your shirt, pulling you upright and you all but collapsed against him, stumbling as you tried to find your footing. The second you did, you pulled away from him. You couldn’t bear to touch him, even if that meant you ended up on the ground again. 

“Just gotta make it about 100 yards,” he nodded toward a flickering glow in the distance. “Then you’re not my problem anymore.” 

He nudged you in that direction and you moved, almost mindlessly. You weren’t strong enough to fight it. You were barely strong enough to walk. You cradled your injured arm to your body as best you could, watching as the glow of the fire drew closer. 

“Stop right there,” an unfamiliar voice said, a man coming through the trees with his rifle raised. But he lowered it as he drew closer, looking the group you were with up and down. “Cody. Starting to wonder if you weren’t going to make it.” 

“Got held up,” he said. “But I got what he’s after, if he still wants to meet.” 

The guard just jerked his head toward the fire and led the way, you trailing along behind him with Cody and his men at your back. 

The fire was in the middle of a large clearing, one with a cluster of about 20 men around it, the man you feared more than any other sitting at the back of it. 

A wide smile came over his face when he saw you, the spread of it sinister and slow. 

“Well well,” Mitchum said, getting to his feet and walking closer. He was still so much bigger than you, tall and broad and you knew just how well he could force you to do what he wanted. “The prodigal son returns, with my favorite toy no less.” 

“Told you I could get her,” Cody said, pushing you toward him. “And I believe we had an agreement.” 

“Sure, sure,” Mitchum waved him off before looking you up and down, just feet away from you now. Your head spun. “Jackson is yours when we take it down, as is anyone who survives. S’long as you remember who gave it to you.” 

Mitchum reached out, grabbing your injured hand roughly and you cried out with it as he pulled your arm toward him. 

“The fuck is this?” He held it up. “Thought I told you I wanted her intact, there’s no deal if you fucking maimed her.” 

Cody shrugged. 

“She killed two of my men,” he said.

Mitchum dropped your hand and clenched his jaw before snatching his gun from its holster and shooting Cody’s man who was at your side, making you flinch away from the sound. 

“You think I give a fuck how many of your men make it?” He asked. “You think their lives matter? Got fuckin’ news for you, theirs don’t and neither does yours so you better do a damn good job of explaining why you brought her to me damaged.” 

“She tried to take off,” Cody said, eyes darting down to the man who was dead  on the ground. “Had to do something to keep her under control. Figured you’d want her at all, even if that meant damaged.” 

Mitchum holstered the gun with a huff and pulled you away from Cody, your skin crawling where he touched you. 

“Well, she’s back where she belongs now,” he passed you off to one of his men before turning back to Cody. “Jackson’s yours, when we take it.” 

“And I want horses,” Cody said. “For my trouble.” 

Mitchum seemed to think for a moment before giving him a stiff nod. 

“Fine, three horses,” he said, waving them forward. “Take ‘em and go. Don’t want to see you again for a while or else I might change my mind.” 

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Cody smirked before looking to you. “Told you you should have given me what I deserved.” 

You didn’t say anything. Instead you just stood there, in the hold of one of Mitchum’s henchmen, watching as the man who’d stolen your freedom rode off into the night. 

Next Chapter

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust @ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost @beccerjune @mumma-moonchild @netonetoneto @mellymbee @purplelye @n7cje @flugazi @evyiione @randomhoex @aliengirl99 @orcasoul @reds-ramblings @pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel @jenispunk @panda-pascal @sarap-77 @flugazi @your-slutty-gf @daniegraceg @partyofone3413 @cumberpegg @noisynightmarepoetry. @fifia-writes @grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123 @ashleyfilm @arizonadreamingg

A/N: I know it's a rough chapter but... feral!Joel?

We've only seen the beginning of him, he's about to go on a rampage like no other I can promise you that.

Also, I'm sorry for making this chapter quite so brutal. I really didn't want them to get off easy in this situation, I wanted to make sure we know that there are going to be some long term repercussions from all this - in this case, Bambi's missing fingers. They live in a brutal world and they're facing brutal things and I wanted this to be reflective of that.

Thanks for sticking with the story. I really do love you all!

[alphajocklover]

hey there. My name is Derek. Im your average, slightly overweight gay guy from Chicago. I work as a pretty decent graphic designer downtown. And honestly, my life has gotten boring. I’ve been with the same guy for far too long. And I sometimes wish I could be one of those loud, obnoxious straight dudes you see at bars. You know the ones I’m talking about. Total jerks who make rude and crude comments to women. Muscles so big. Obnoxious loud clothing. Yeah. Is it weird that I want to be the most hated straight douchebag in the world? Haha it’d be so different

Hey Derek! I’m glad you reached out. You’re asking a question a lot of gay men have asked throughout history: Is it weird that you want to be a straight, buff, misogynist douchebag? Are you a freak because a part of you wants to be the kind of guy you’ve always hated? You’ve always believed in being proud of your sexuality, in treating everyone, especially women, with respect, in common decency, equality, and respect. Usually you’d find those straight, cocky jerks as obnoxious as anyone else. But just like a lot of men (and sometimes women), both in and outside of the LGBTQ community, there are times where, even though you know you shouldn’t, you wish you were one of those guys. It’s hard to say why people get this strange desire. It could be that you’re jealous of their bodies, how they’re so muscular, beefy, and powerful. It could be that you admire their confidence, the way they cockily smirk like they rule the world. It could be that you long to be like them because, despite their flaws, they’re the manly men that society has always told men we should all be.

Or it could be that you know, deep down, that they’re what you were meant to be. That they’re what you could have been, should have been, and would have been… if you hadn’t been turned gay.

Before we continue I wanna make a few things clear. Being gay isn’t a choice, you can’t cure gayness with dumbass abusive therapy, gay people do not turn other people gay, and homosexuality is a perfectly natural thing that some people just are. But… not all people. There are some people in this world, like you Derek, who have been turned gay. You were supposed to be straight. In fact you were supposed to be a straight, beefy, misogynistic, douchebag. But someone changed you, derailed your fate so that you’d be different. They saw you, didn’t approve, and so they went back in time and changed you. It’s not just you either. There are thousands of supposedly gay men who are really straight douchebags who got turned.

The group of people responsible for these changes are mysterious and covered in shadow. Those who know of them call them the SAD, the Society Against Douchebags. Not much is known about them, just that they come from the far future and use a strange machine to go back in time and change the lives of certain straight douchebags through manipulation and futuristic technology. The reason you were always so unathletic and heavy? You had nano machines working against you, keeping on the weight and taking down your endurance. The reason you could never seem to say the right thing and always embarrassed yourself around cool guys? They’d use those same machines to make you feel awkward and uncomfortable so you’d say the wrong thing. The reason you’re gay? They altered your brain chemistry.

But I know someone who can help you turn back.

A group like the SAD, one that so recklessly changes the timeline, doesn’t go unnoticed forever. Eventually another group formed, one that fought back against them. They call themselves the Douchebag Revolution. They’re exactly what they sound like. Straight, buff douchebags who either didn’t get targeted for one reason or another or were saved from their false lives and wanna take down the people who tried to destroy them. They go around, liberating guys like your from their fake fag lives, fighting the SAD and living that douchebag lifestyle.

Personally I try to keep out of their whole time war thing. I don't think what the SAD does is good, but time travel is so fucking complicated I’d like to avoid anyone who uses it all together. Plus the Douchebag Revolution is pretty homophobic, so they wouldn’t accept an actual gay guy like me in their ranks. But I do have a few contacts in the Douchebag Revolution who tolerate me. I could get you in touch. They have a way to reverse what the SAD did to you. A serum. It’ll make you exactly what you always should have been: a straight, beefy, asshole. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to take it. You can stay this way, always wondering who you would have been. But I don’t think that’s what you want. I can see it in your eyes. You know what you are.

You’re a douchebag. Welcome to the Revolution.

Don’t worry about your boyfriend. Either he’s an agent of the SAD or he’s a fellow turned Douchebag. Either way your new friends will help you take care of it.

**another G2S story. I know they’re controversial but they’re so much fun. Definitely going to revisit the douchebag Revolution idea sometime.**

[underdark-dreams]

Rolan putting Tav in their place? But like….in a frisky way 👀🔥

Rolan x fem!Tav

Master

"Sit still and behave." She's feeling impatient for some attention from the Master of Ramazith's Tower. She decides he needs to let off some steam; Rolan decides to teach her some proper respect.

Tags: Obedience, Praise Kink, Soft Dom, Explicit Sexual Content | Word Count: 3,875 [Read on AO3]

“Did they even do the readings? Half of these are wrong…I’ll have to regive all the illusory lectures…”

Rolan’s brow furrowed deeper as he read down the page. Frustration practically radiated from the way he hunched over his desk, and she wished for the umpteenth time that he would just take a break.

“I’m sure they’ll get it with time,” she told him, gently rubbing his shoulders.

Inwardly, she found it difficult to feel concerned about his students’ grades at the moment. She was far too busy admiring how good Rolan looked when he was a bit disheveled. 

It was a rare sight; he preferred to keep his appearance clean and tidy at all times, his robes neatly pressed and hair half-pulled back to keep it out of his eyes. 

Right now, this was about as unkempt as she’d ever seen Rolan outside their bedroom. His hair was loose from its tie. As he worked, one lock swung forward between his horns, and he impatiently swept it away with the feather of his quill. He had pushed the sleeves of his underrobe up to his elbows. She watched the sinews of his forearm flex under his crimson skin as he scrawled a severe note on his student's parchment.

She knew his state was a testament to the stress he’d been under lately. Beyond her love for the petulant wizard seated in front of her, she didn’t have much personal experience with wizardry. But Rolan had said enough to impress upon her how important these upcoming exams were for his young pupils. For the oldest of them, their results could mean the difference between continuing their studies or finding another vocation. Rolan took the task of preparing them quite seriously. 

Perhaps too seriously, she thought to herself, watching the muscle of his jaw flex with concentration. The candles standing beside his desk were burned down to dripping puddles of wax.

He needed a good distraction, and that she could help with. She crossed forearms along the back of his chair and perched her chin on his shoulder.

“Come to bed?” She asked him. “You’ve been grading for hours.”

Rolan hardly seemed to hear her. "In a moment," he murmured.

It wasn't his usual response to a proposition. Teasing or enthusiasm she was used to, but flat out disinterest was new. It stung a little more than it had a right to.

She knew she should respect his work at hand. If he didn't look so downright frazzled, she might have.

Instead, she gave into the temptation to take advantage of his concentration. She slid one arm down around Rolan's shoulders and leaned in to tuck the curtain of his hair back behind one long red ear.

Then she kissed along the line of it from lobe to pointed tip. She'd always been fond of Rolan's Infernal gifts, particularly his sharply tapered ears—even more so as one of the few people allowed to appreciate them. His usual style kept them tucked and hidden behind his hair.

Rolan sighed slowly as her lips made their soft journey, just enough to satisfy her that she was getting to him. She knew she was being a nuisance, but it had been days since she had him to herself. Rolan was passionate about his work—she couldn’t help selfishly wanting a little of it for herself tonight.

“You’ve been sleeping at your desk too much lately,” she murmured against the shell of his ear. 

“Can’t be helped,” Rolan replied, although the fingers of his free hand raised to the arm she had curled over his collar. “These exams are the most consequential step in an apprenticeship. I’d be a worthless archmage if I let my students arrive at Blackstaff unprepared.”

“Rolan, there’s no way that would happen.” She broke away slightly to look at the thick stack of assignments he was grading. “Don’t you think…maybe you’re overworking them? You’re definitely overworking yourself.” 

“I’m fine,” Rolan said a bit sharply, turning to the next student’s parchment. “I can certainly handle a little paperwork.” 

She pouted slightly at the back of his head, then leaned in to place a kiss under his ear. “That’s not what I meant.”

Rolan let out a short huff as he set down his quill. Feeling a bit smug with herself, she let his grip over her arm draw her around beside him, quite unsuspecting.

Before she could tense her relaxed muscles, Rolan’s grip jerked her down. One of her hands flew to grab the far edge of the wooden seat, but she still landed hard on his lap, her back thumping against his chest.

“After all our time together, I’d expect you to understand the duties of an archwizard,” Rolan scolded her. His voice reverberated against her back as he tucked her slightly to one of his legs so he could keep working. Then his fingers plucked up his quill, even as his other forearm wrapped tighter below her navel to keep her firmly planted. 

After a week starved from his attention, the humbling position made her face grow warm. "Rolan, I do understand. I just think y—"

“Good,” Rolan cut her off. “Then sit still and behave.” He was ordering her in the same tone she sometimes heard him use with his apprentices—as if she was nothing but another naughty pupil.

She bit her lip. That could work. Oh, could it ever. “All right.”

After that, they both sat in silence. The steady scratch of quill tip against parchment was the only sound drifting through the candlelight. She kept herself perched quietly on Rolan’s thighs, watching the neat movements of his writing hand, feeling the steady beat of his heart between her shoulder blades. Of all the positions she hoped to find herself in tonight, fully clothed and trapped on his lap wasn't one of them.

But she could certainly work with it. 

Carefully, as if just adjusting to a more comfortable position, she wiggled her hips up higher against his lap. She felt the muscle in Rolan’s forearm clench slightly over her, but he said nothing as he turned to another page.

Testing his patience, she scooted back toward him again. This time she pressed her palms against his thighs for balance, letting her hips bounce slightly down against him. The game was rapidly becoming unsubtle.

It wasn’t lost on her wizard. “That won't get you anything,” Rolan warned her.

But despite his words, she could already feel him stirring underneath her. Lovely heat coiled in her stomach in response. “Will from where I’m sitting,” she answered back saucily.

“Hmm.” His monotone hum reverberated against her back, but Rolan didn’t look up from the note he was scribbling. However disappointing his verbal responses, Rolan’s body gave him away the same way it always did. 

It only made her braver. She leaned forward on an elbow as if to read his work. In the same motion, she nudged her hips back to press herself more firmly against the growing hardness under his robes, dragging her center across his clothed thigh at the same time. She’d prefer to make use of the lovely ridges near his knee, but that would have to wait for another night.

“Take off your clothes.”

She blinked at him over her shoulder. “What?” Surely she had misheard—Rolan’s expression was impassive, eyes still on the pages scattered over his desk.

“Take off your clothes,” he calmly repeated, still not looking at her. “Now.”

If he was calling her bluff, he wouldn’t get the satisfaction. Slowly, she leaned back against his chest. She would go along with whatever game he wanted to play. 

She began with her bodice. Her fingers ran down the lacings, plucking them open like harp strings, feeling the heat already starting to pool between her thighs in anticipation. With her head leaned back over Rolan’s shoulder, she could feel the steady tickle of his breath down her collar and chest, though he was still steadfastly marking the parchment before him. 

Rolan was studiously ignoring her, even as she undressed. It was new, and it made something shy and uncertain coil in her chest. When they were together normally he liked to be the one removing her clothes. He practically insisted on it. 

But tonight he made no move, apparently content to let her take as much or as little time as she liked.

She favored the latter. With that thought in mind, she pressed herself forward to shuck the unlaced bodice back over her shoulders. Rolan’s arm over her loosened to allow her undershirt to follow. When both garments were discarded on the floor beside his chair, she leaned back against him, bare above the waist. She couldn’t help arching her chest up a little as Rolan’s loose hair tickled against her neck.

"Everything," Rolan directed her. His arm remained draped unmoving over her belly. He either didn't notice her body language or was choosing to ignore the invitation to grope her. 

It made her feel even needier for him. Perhaps that's why she wiggled out of her pants and smallclothes so eagerly, nearly tipping sideways off Rolan’s clothed lap in the process. His palm splayed up against her sternum to catch her, and the sharp nail of his thumb pressed into one of her breasts. A small gasp escaped her.

Rolan made a noise low in his throat, and when his hand raised from her chest toward her chin, she understood his intention with eagerness. 

She parted her lips to take two of his long, slender fingers into her mouth, licking and swirling her tongue to wet them completely. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked his digits in deeper over her tongue. Rolan needed reminding of what her mouth could do, and she was pleased to feel his length twitch under her in response. She hummed in satisfaction over his fingers.

Rolan pulled them from her mouth then, and she felt a string of saliva stretch and land across her chin. Before she could wipe it away, two slickened fingertips nudged at the hot apex of her thighs.

She let out a needy groan as her head tipped back over Rolan’s shoulder; her warm cheek pressed against his. She let her thighs fall open for him. But Rolan only continued to make soft and idle circles over her folds, dragging the wetness that was already pooling there up around her entrance, not quite hitting the aching spot above. Her hips rolled forward greedily toward his palm.

“I told you, sit still.” How could he possibly have the nerve to keep writing at a moment like this? She did her best to obey his command, but the way Rolan’s breath had quickened behind her made it difficult.

“Rolan…” His name left her in another groan, this time almost begging. She arched her back to curl an arm around behind him. Her fingers found the curve of one of his horns, and her grip tugged up and down the hard ridged length of it—wishing it was the hard ridged length nudging up against her backside.

In one movement, Rolan’s writing hand swept up the stack of papers from the desk in front of them and deposited them on the floor. 

His grip on her arms was rougher than she was used to as he jerked their connected bodies upright, but it was somehow exactly what she craved. She heard his chair clatter to the floor behind them—her hands flew to the now-empty desk for balance as she landed on her feet.

“I’m a very busy man, you know,” Rolan hissed into her ear; he kept her facing away with nails dimpling against the flesh of her hips. “I don't have time for these games.”

“Sorry,” she lied, breathless. “Let me make it up to you?” She reached eagerly back for him, wanting to pull him closer by his robes, before something drew her palms together behind her back.

Rolan’s tail coiled around her wrists in a makeshift binding. Its soft ridges rubbed over her skin, the sudden friction causing her to freeze in place.

"You can tell me to stop.” 

Rolan’s voice was suddenly low, and she glanced back over her shoulder to his face. His eyes burned molten gold, but she caught hesitation beneath and realized what he was looking for. She nodded her head yes.

Then the palm of Rolan’s hand settled between her shoulder blades, and steadily, he pushed down.

Her body bent at the waist over the hard surface, goosebumps tickling her skin where her bare chest met the cool wood. She shivered from the cold, and more so from the delicious uncertainty of whatever he was planning to do with her. The firm coil of Rolan’s tail trailed from her wrists across the bare skin of her back.

"Do you know how infuriating you can be?" Rolan's voice chided behind her, even as his hands on her ass massaged and spread her apart for him. "I have a great deal of work to do, yet you insist on interrupting."

"Why don't you give me something to shut me up, then?" She did her best to tease back, but she could only imagine the view Rolan had of her slick folds as his hands pulled to expose her. She ached for his fingers and mouth and cock—for any part of him to touch her again and provide release.

"Always so greedy for my attention," Rolan said, as if he could read her thoughts. "High time you learned a little discipline."

The warmth of one hand left her. Then, without warning, his palm reconnected with a stinging slap against her ass. The shock lurched her body forward, grinding the ache between her legs against the hard edge of his desk. A shameless mewl escaped her throat.

“Hush,” Rolan tutted softly from behind. “I run a reputable business here, you know. Unless you want everyone below to learn what a state you’re in?”

“Oh yes—” From her prone position, she still tried to crane her neck back at him. “I’m sure your patrons would love to know that the new mage of Ramazith’s Tower is a perverted little—”

His palm smacked against her a second and third time, once on either side, the lewd sounds echoing all around the cavernous room and causing her words to stutter into an incoherent moan. She just barely bit it back this time. 

“Good girl,” Rolan hummed in approval, and she couldn’t ignore the way her insides quivered from the praise. He smoothed both hands over the heated skin on her flanks as if rewarding her obedience. “Now spread for me.”

Incredible how four little words could make her throb and drip for him. It was vulgar and irresistible, and she obeyed wordlessly, shifting her bare feet further apart to expose herself more fully to him. The rush of cool air between her legs was almost too much to bear. 

There was the soft rustle of movement behind her—she could practically feel Rolan’s body heat moving closer. In the next moment the length underneath his robes pressed firmly in between her legs. 

She dug teeth into her lower lip to restrain another wanton groan. He was so hard already—was it all from this little game? Sweet hells, if only she'd tried his patience like this before. She couldn’t spare a thought to wonder, could only fixate on the anticipation of Rolan filling her. Her cunt throbbed against the fabric between them at the thought.

She heard Rolan inhale through his teeth. "So desperate even now. Gods, you're shameless." But his hands traveled up the arch of her back, his softly filed nails whispering against the skin under her bound arms from her ass to her shoulder blades, as if relishing the position he had her in.

Then his grip cupped down over each of her hip bones, and he ground her back against his hardness.

The gesture dragged the bare front of her against the cool wood surface, and a shuddering exhale fell from her lips. “Fuck, Rolan—”

“Is this not what you wanted?” Rolan asked her, calling down patience from gods knew where. “Tell me, then.”

"I want you to fuck me,” she gasped out, ready to be done with the teasing. The words formed a heated fog across the wood surface underneath her.

"Ask nicely, then." One of Rolan’s thumbs pulled at her flesh, no doubt giving himself another view of her wet slit, teasing her open again without touching her where she needed it most.

“Please—” Maybe she'd never been more desperate for him; or maybe she'd always known he would love it. "Master Rolan, please fuck me—"

Rolan's hands were gone from her in a flash, and she heard and felt them working on the laces of his pants.

She’d never been more ready for him. Shamefully eager, she craned her head as best she could from her bent and bound position to watch him reach through the slits in his robe to unfasten his pants. Then his beautiful red cock sprang free from the fabric, deliciously hard and lined with those angled, concentric ridges that she knew could make her see stars. Her mouth watered at the sight of him. 

She must look positively desperate for it, because Rolan was watching her face with a dark glint of approval in his eyes. As he did, one of his elegant hands closed around his cock and pumped lazily. She squirmed with impatience.

"Say it again." Rolan's dark-set eyes watched her with something like anticipation, his baritone husky with desire.

Her mind was so addled from the delicious sight of him stroking himself that it took a moment to grasp what he was requesting.

"You like that?" She asked suddenly, licking her lips. "When I call you Master?”

Rolan's hips bucked forward into his own grip, almost involuntary. Despite her position naked and prone on his desk, she felt a kind of power tip back into her hands.

“Because that's what you are, Rolan…” She looked back at him from under her lashes, wanting to see what the words might do to him. “Master of this tower, Master of the Weave—Master of me—”

Rolan's face was flushing burgundy, his eyes smoldering into her as if hanging on every word. His tail unwound from her wrists to shudder and flick behind him in a motion she’d grown to recognize as pure desire.

“Just look at what you do to me,” she breathed. Wetness leaked down her inner thighs as she spoke. “No one else fucks me like you. You're so good—so powerful—fuck, just please Rolan, I need you—”

With a guttural sound, Rolan pressed and sheathed himself in her completely.

The abrupt stretch between her legs made her cry out and clutch at the far edge of his desk. Rolan hadn't readied her with his fingers the way he usually did—very little about tonight was usual. His ridges were hot and tight against her walls, but the ache was exactly what she craved.

Before she had fully adjusted, Rolan pulled out from her almost completely, and then his hips snapped back into her a second and third time. The pressure almost made her sob in relief.

Rolan’s hands landed on either side of hers, sharp nails digging into the wood underneath them as his body pressed down over her. He was truly, finally fucking her; she felt the silk of his robes drag against her overheated skin with each thrust, and then the shift of his body hit a new angle inside her. 

His tip abruptly met with that deep and sensitive spot, pounding into the aching nerves there again and again. Her eyes rolled back with an unrestrained moan.

"Again," he panted, his face close behind her ear. The control in his voice was fading with each jerk of his hips.

Her skin was on fire; all she could concentrate on was the ridged length of him rapidly filling and stretching her, each quick thrust grinding and rocking her clit against the smooth wood under their bodies.

"Master Rolan, plea-se—" The last word was jerked in two by the force of him fucking her into his desk—"just like this, fuck, I’ve wanted this for weeks—you’re so—so fucking good—”

The words were babbling incoherently from her, but they seemed to be what he needed. Rolan let out a broken groan into the skin of her back as he twitched and spilled inside her. But he didn’t slow his rhythm. Instead his hands gripped either side of her hips, sharp nails digging into her skin, fucking his spend deep into her with driving force. 

It was possessive and raw and hot and the feeling made her own orgasm crash down around her, her walls spasming and clutching around him as if to keep him there. She felt the gush of heat from her center leaking out all around him and spilling down her legs.

Her arms and legs trembled weakly; she was grateful for the support of Rolan’s desk holding her up, hard and cold though it was. She gathered enough strength to glance back at him as he straightened and pulled out of her, just in time to catch Rolan admiring the way his come dripped from her opening.

“I love you,” she panted up at him. “That was…gods, Rolan.”

He looked just as dazed as she felt as he stood with hands still resting on her hips for balance. But Rolan said nothing in response, only drew one of her limp hands from the desk up to his lips. Then he shook his shoulders slightly as if to rouse his senses, tucking himself back into his pants.

Dipping a hand to the floor, Rolan thrust a bundle of her clothes unceremoniously toward her. “Clean yourself up. I have more work to do.” 

She would have laughed if she wasn’t so spent. He was being intentionally brusque; perhaps embarrassed by how far he’d let himself go. The lingering flush on his cheeks and the way his outstretched arm shook both undercut the attempt slightly. 

She straightened up on wobbling legs to pluck the clothes from him. Despite his rudeness, she felt satisfied with the knowledge that the heavy smell of sex and the image of her spread open for him on that very desk would make concentrating on his menial paperwork a near-impossible task.

Before he’d let go of her wrinkled garments, she pulled him by them into a quick kiss. “Come to bed soon,” she told him firmly. “Or else I’ll come back and carry you there.” 

Rolan exhaled through his nose, the bare hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Give me an hour.”

An unthinkable wait after the lay he’d just given her. But she made no complaints as she turned—it wouldn’t do to let him have too much power.

“Fine,” she called over her shoulder. She put a little sway in her hips as she sauntered toward the bedroom staircase, strongly suspecting that his eyes were following her. “But this time, Master Rolan, I’m getting you naked.”

[cazshmere]

Synastry Observations Pt.2

materialist🔖

DISCLAIMER: These are just my personal observations and are meant for entertainment purposes only; it may not resonate with everyone due to the nuances of astrology. Please respect my work and avoid copying or stealing it. Enjoy reading!! 🍊⭐️

🍊 Mars in the 12th house synastry has got to be one of the worst things 😭. It’s confusing and exhausting. The Mars person seems to harbour some sort of irrational animosity towards the house person in a very passive-aggressive way. The house person can sense this too, but they are unsure if they’re making it up or not. Also, it’s such a blockage; you could be really close to each other and know of each other, but the conversation WOULD TAKE AGES to start because neither the house person nor the Mars person wants to initiate conversation. It’s like there’s an invisible barrier between you guys 🥲

🍊 Venus in the 8th house/ in Scorpio’s first romantic relationship or situation always ends up hurting them. I’ve seen this countless times where their first experience with romance either ends in heartbreak, unrequited love, or just a missed opportunity. This heartbreak helps these individuals immensely transform, and they might prefer to isolate themselves from anything romance-related for a long period of time. Honestly I think this is a canon event for every Scorpio/8th house Venus that I’ve met, including me lmao and especially if there are Venus-Saturn hard aspects, dear lord, sending love to all my scorp/8th house placements fr🫶🏻🥲❤️‍🩹

🍊 Something I’ve observed with Libra placements, especially the moon, is that when they’re in a relationship, it becomes the focal point of their life. They might go as far as changing career paths to be closer to their partner, altering their style to match their partner’s preferences, or adjusting their personality to be more appealing to their partner (yes I’m sure most of us do this to some extent but it’s a bit excessive for these peeps😭). Their relationship becomes such a central part of their identity that if anything goes wrong, it can feel devastating for them. For instance, I have a friend who is a Libra moon, and she always refers to her partner as “my boyfriend” instead of his name, even though we all know him personally, like gurl come on he’s got a name haha😭

🍊 Moon in the 12th house synastry can equate to the house person opening up to the moon person or just feeling extremely vulnerable around them. They’d share things with the moon person that they dare not share with anyone else. This synastry could also mean staying up late in the night and throwing your sleep away just to talk to each other 🧿

🍊 12th house synastry could also have undertones of enemies-to-lovers (the lovers part only if you ever get together, that is) because there’s this energy where you don’t know why the other person acts hostile/passive-aggressive towards you, ignores you, or sends you mixed signals that makes you dislike them but at the same time, you can’t stop fantasizing/dreaming about them in all these romantic scenarios or them showing up in your dreams outta nowhere like??😭

🍊 7th/8th and even 10th (to some extent) house synastry could indicate that one of the two, either the house person or the planet person (mostly the house person), copies the other, be it mannerisms, clothes, slang, or even certain traits of the other’s personality 💀. It’s because they notice how much attention or admiration the planet person garners, so to obtain that same kind of attention and recognition the house person might try to emulate the planet person 🫤

🍊 7th house Mars synastry can be very annoying and tiresome (especially for the house person). The Mars person could be a bit too much for the house person. The Mars person could get very petty and passive-aggressive towards the house person for no reason (this could go vice versa too). Yes there is sexual attraction and y’all could motivate/support each other through stuff but at the same time it’s draining asf, a big no no for me when it comes to synastry 🥲

🍊 Moon square Saturn synastry can cause delays when it comes to emotional attachment between two people, but once these two finally connect, it’s ride or die typa relationship fr 🥺🫂

🍊 Moon/Mercury in the 1st/5th/9th house synastry is very exciting and fun-loving, with lots of playful teasing and bantering with each other 😋🥰

🍊Moon /Mercury in the 2nd/4th/8th/10th/12th house synastry makes both parties very sensitive to each other’s words because these houses reflect our self esteem/self worth, the deepest parts of ourselves, our core, our reputation etc. A little bit of critique can also be taken personally by either party. Even harmless jokes could be taken in the wrong way and arguments could occur (especially if there isn’t 3rd/5th/9th/11th house synastry or any easy aspects in the synastry chart)

🍊 When someone's planets fall in your 8th house, they intuitively sense your true and deep needs related to that planet. For example, if someone's Venus is in your 8th house, they will know how to love you in a way that makes you feel unconditionally loved and appreciated. If their Mercury is in your 8th house, they will understand how to communicate with you on a profound level, meeting your need for deep and meaningful conversation. If their Mars is in your 8th house, they will instinctively know how to meet your sexual needs and desires and please you in bed🖤❤️‍🔥

© cazshmere 2024 [All Rights Reserved]

banner credits : @anitalenia <3

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 22 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

-He sets you on the vanity, the marble cool against your bare bottom. The contrast of his hot hands upon your thighs is maddening, and you whimper as he withdraws from you.

“Shh,” he says. “Do you want these undone? Or do you want me to touch you?”

The fact that you actually have to think for a moment before you answer makes his eyes shine.

“Untie me,” you answer as quickly as you can form words. By the way he looks at you, you’re afraid it wasn’t fast enough. There is a heavy pause between you, electric with the warring of your wills.

“Hmm.” You can’t stop yourself from making a sound when he leaves you, though he only takes a few steps to the tub, turning on the taps.

“I’ve had a long day,” he says, looking you over like he might like to eat you.

You worry your lower lip between your teeth, your heart in your throat.

This is it, you realize. No turning back now.

“Where were you?”

“You’ll find out later, if you’re a good girl.”

You’re not sure you like the sound of that.

He bats the door closed with a swing of his long arm before returning to you, standing between your spread legs. You are cold, in just the thin silk of the stupid nighty, and the line of his body so near yours warms you like a furnace. He takes your wrists in his sure hands, running his fingers over the ropes as he admires his handiwork upon you. Then he begins to pick at the first knot, and even he seems to have trouble undoing it at first.

You really hope he doesn’t have to cut it. You do not like the thought of a blade in his hand, that close to your skin.

“Is this…something you’re really into?” you dare ask, your heart in your throat.

“Shibari? I may have dabbled in my misspent youth,” he answers with a smirk, enjoying your uneasiness far too much. “Are you curious about it, kitten?”

“No,” you answer quickly, winning a pout that has no business on the lips of a grown ass man, but somehow is cute.

You understand it’s something some people enjoy, and that’s perfectly fine. Consenting people, who know what they’re getting into, and trust each other.

Sadly, that is not the boat you’re in right now.

“Shame. Maybe later, when you’ve come to trust me more.”

The fact that he knows you don’t trust him now is perhaps a little heartening. However, you decide you will not be bringing it up again.

When at last your restraints are reduced to a pile of red silk on the floor you cannot suppress your sigh. He runs his hands over the marks in your skin, seeming fascinated by the twisted patterns imprinted in your flesh.

“You alright?” he asks, rubbing to aid the circulation. Even just on your wrists, his touch is maddening.

You press your lips, warring with the desire to tell him off for it, or play it like no big deal. You decide to go with what is already obvious between you.

“I didn’t like that.”

He turns your face up to his with a hand that engulfs your jaw. “Then be a good girl, and I won’t have to do it again.”

“Be sweet to me, and I will.”

He narrows his eyes at you for your pithy insolence, but you can tell that he’s secretly pleased. When he lowers his head to kiss you, his tongue sweeping your mouth possessively, you hate to admit that you forget all about your aching wrists, and your self-respect, straining to reach more of his soft mouth as he uses his height to draw away.

He places your hands on his chest, looking at you expectantly. Realizing that he wants you to undress him, you try for the first button.

As it turns out, you really weren’t lying about the circulation in your fingers. Or maybe the lack of use throughout the day, something. It is not easy to undo the first button of his shirt. It is tiny, and the hole is tight, and you are ready to rip it off by the time you finally manage to slide it through.

 “Don’t tear it,” he warns, as though he can read your thoughts.

You sigh, and concentrate on the second. It gets easier as you use your fingers more…and the prize you begin to unveil spurs you on. You realize you are biting your lip again when you taste blood in your mouth. Button by button, you unveil the marvel that lies beneath.

He stands still as a statue as you work, watching you with those eyes that miss nothing. You are not half as nervous as you should be, enjoying your task. When you pull out his shirt tails you finally begin to understand. 

A myriad of scars covers his body from collar to below his waist line. Large and small, fresh and old. Cuts, and round puckered flesh that look like bullet wounds. Your heart drops to your feet, and you sense it as John stiffens under your scrutiny. 

“Oh, honey...” 

It hurts to look at. It hurts because you cannot fathom the pain he must have gone through, enduring all these injuries. He lets you touch him, tracing the lines of these old wounds. You meet his eyes, finding him vulnerable, before giving in to the urge to press your lips to his chest over an old scar that cuts across his pectoral. His eyes slide closed, and you think it might be the first time you've seen him surrender to anything.

You slide down from the counter, pressing against his body as you plant your feet on the floor. Wanting to see all of him, you circle him slowly, never once taking your hands off of him. The scars continue there, and across the expanse of his powerful shoulders are sinister looking tattoos. Some men get tattoos like this because they think it makes them look hard, but somehow you just know that they mean something in his world. Something...ominous. On top of the tattoos, the praying hands in the center of his back bears a horrible brand of an upside-down crucifix.

That might have hurt more than all the rest.  

You rest your head in the divot of his shoulders, wrapping your arms around his muscled torso. It feels good, to nestle here. Better than it should.

“I wouldn't have run,” you tell him, and you feel a tremor run through his steadfast frame, his big hands covering yours just beneath his heart. 

You make your way back to his front, and his sharp eyes follow your every movement. 

“You would have had questions.” 

“Of course I would have.” 

You’re not a total idiot.

“You would have been scared.” 

You just shake your head, knowing it was true. At that time, you wouldn't have had the sense.  Even now, knowing what he was capable of... you still weren't half as scared of him as you should be. 

His gaze upon you is surprisingly soft, as he considers your words. You dare think you’ve finally gotten through to this man, until his long fingers close around your jaw, holding your gaze upwards. “You’re not lying to me just to appease me, kitten?”

Rather than follow the wiser path of meek contrition, you give way to the indignant anger rising in your breast.

“You’re so worked up about me running from you, but you know what? You ran from me first. You didn’t even give me the chance to accept you.”

He narrows his eyes down at you, considering what you’ve said.

If you're lying, he has to punish you.

If you're telling the truth, then this whole thing blew up for nothing, and it's all on him. 

Rather than hash this out, he dips his head to kiss you again, and he is not exactly gentle with you. Hungry for you, his tongue sweeps into your mouth, his teeth on your lips leaving you bruised. His hips pin you against the vanity, his erection pressing into you unforgivingly.

His fingers tangle in the lace skirt of your nightie, pulling it up. You fight him on instinct, and hear the silk tear as he jerks it from your grasp, defeating you so easily. He draws it up over your head with a flourish and throws it across the room, leaving you utterly bare to his gaze.

You are glad for the warm steam that is filling the room from the running bath. The tub is so massive it’s not even a quarter of the way full. Still, you try to cover yourself, but John grips your wrists in his big hands, twisting your arms behind you easily.  

His eyes rake over you, and your nipples harden as though he’d touched them. “So. Fucking. Beautiful.”

He falls on you, releasing your hands to cup your face as he kisses you again without mercy. His touch is possessive, inexorable, unyielding, and his hands explore your body, the curve of your bare back and the swell of your breast. His thumb and forefinger pinching your nipple make your knees weak. He recedes like a crashing wave down your body, his mouth upon your chest, your breasts, his tongue wreaking sweet agony upon your aching tips.

You don't know how much more of this your pussy can take. You've never been this turned on, for this long, in your life. 

You blink stupidly, when suddenly John is on his knees before you, looking up at you with his nose nuzzling the curls between your legs. That brief moment of eye contact electrifies you, before he guides your leg up over his shoulder, and licks your weeping slit. You lean back on the marble counter, and if not for his strong hands on your hips and your ass, you would have fallen, your legs shaking beneath you as he wrecks you with that devilish tongue.

He brings you so close to the edge with licks and little sucks, torturing you making circles with the tip of his tongue before taking mercy with broad, hard strokes, two of his long fingers sliding inside of you. That burning knot of pleasure begins to tighten within your womb. You clench on his fingers, your grip white-knuckling on the side of the vanity, so relieved for release on the horizon that you could cry.

That is when he leaves you, wiping his mouth on your belly as he stands before kissing you with the same punishing force as before. You whimper into his mouth, cheated of your pleasure, so pent up you could die.

“Hush,” he tells you, more gently than you would have expected from him in this unforgiving mood. He lifts you up onto the vanity again, easily as though you weigh nothing. With stars in your eyes, you watch as he undoes the zipper on his slacks with quick efficiency, pushing it all down to the floor and kicking it away.

You cannot help but stare, your lip caught between your teeth again. How many times a day can you think to yourself, This man is beautiful? His trim waist and powerful thighs covered in crisp dark hairs. The line of soft dark hair on his belly leads the eye downward…he is thick, and long, and even while you know you are in trouble, you cannot quell the dark thrill of knowing he is going to absolutely ruin you.

“Like what you see?” he asks, pulling you from your trance. He pumps himself up and down a few times, spreading the precum leaking from his tip.

Unable to find words in that moment, you nod.  

“What was that, sweetheart?” His big hands on your thighs pull you to the edge of the vanity top, his body wedged between your legs.

You make a frustrated sound between your teeth. “Yes, I find you very fucking beautiful, Mr. Wick.”

He offers you a cruel little laugh before catching your lips with his, his thick tip hovering at your weeping entrance. You try to move closer to him, hungry for the stretch and burn of his cock entering your body, but he holds you fast.

There is a surprising vulnerability in his next words, uttered quietly against your ear. “You want me?”

“Yes.”

God help you, but it’s the truth.

You give a strangled moan as he pushes inside of you, writhing from his cock and his teeth in your shoulder. The sound he makes is more animal than human as he works himself inside.

“Even your pussy fights back,” he huffs with strained laughter, easing himself in and out. “God, baby, you feel so good.”

Your fingernails dig into his shoulder as your body protests the invasion half-way.

“Wait…”

“Can’t…” he informs you raggedly. “Breathe for me, kitten, I know you can take me.”

“It’s been a long time,” you admit between a deep inhale, trying to adjust. A long time, and to be frank, none of your previous experiences with men prepared you for him.

“How long?” he demands, as though this is information he desperately needs to know.

“Over a year.”

Long before you met him.

He veritably growls his approval at this figure, and if you weren’t so cock-drunk you would have rolled your eyes at the fragility of the male ego. As it is…you can hardly think straight at all.

“That’s my good girl,” he rasps against your skin as he slides deeper and deeper inside. “So wet for me. So good.”

You cry out as he bottoms out against your cervix. He looks down between you, fascinated by the sight of his body buried in yours to the hilt.

“That hurt?”

“A little.”

“Sorry.” You can hardly believe it when he kisses you with contrition. “I’ll try…” He thrusts again, slower this time, and it makes you see stars. “To be gentle.” He presses his thumb to your lips, and you open for him, sucking and leaving a trail of saliva as he withdraws. When he circles that thumb over your clit you mewl like the needy little kitten you are for him, your thighs tightening upon his narrow hips. He moves for you at just the right speed, teasing you with the thickness of his shaft in all the right places inside. Your walls grip him with abandon, desperate for the pleasure he’s been dangling before you for days.

“You wanna cum, pretty kitten?”

“Yes,” you pant, so desperate for release. Your tight little pussy clenches around his cock in answer, and he sucks in breath through his teeth.

“Then you have to say something for me. And you have to mean it.” 

Fuck. 

“What?” You can hardly remember your own name, much less form complicated sentences as he fills you to bursting, merciless and so very wonderful, his thumb working magic on your clit.

“Say you’re mine.” 

He glides inside you, stretching you more somehow, but removes his hand to grip your hip.

When you meet him with silence he kisses your neck, nipping at your skin as punishment. There will be marks all over your chest and neck tomorrow.

It doesn't matter.

Not like you're going anywhere.

Not like anyone will see you. 

You keen, craving more pressure, more friction, pulling him deeper with legs wrapped around his back, bringing you so close to where you need him. You think you can come on his cock, whether he touches you or not. It would be a victory, to prove that your pleasure needn't only come at his own whim. 

Knowing all too well, he denies it to you, holding himself just shy of it. 

“Say it,” he demands. “Say you're mine, and I'll give you everything you want.” 

“Even freedom?” you dare ask as he strums at you again, a master at keeping the fire at just the right height, making you feel so good, but never quite enough to make you cum.

You don't know how you have the cheek, with his clever fingers between your legs frying your brain.

This man was made to torture you, it seems. He shifts, so that he is making shallow strokes that only barely stimulate you. You scream a little in frustration. It actually makes him smile. 

“Did you know that ninety percent of women cannot orgasm on penetration alone?”

“You don't have to be so fucking smug about it.” 

“You need me.” 

“Do I?”

You reach for your clit, hoping he will be distracted by watching you. Most men would, but not John. He is a man of focus, determination, sheer will. He catches your hand with a warning growl, twisting it behind you. 

Pulling you closer, he buries himself as deep as he can, his face buried in your hair. It doesn’t hurt this time. It feels like he makes you whole, and you feel the bass growl he makes against your ear in the depths of your soul.

“Please? I can’t wait anymore, baby girl. I want to feel you cum with me.” There is a new desperation in his words, and you know he must be close.

“Then let me cum,” you answer, hardly recognizing your own voice. “I want it. I want you.”

“Say you’re mine.”

You are tempted. Boy, are you. You want it so badly your legs tremble, your back arched tight as a bow. A tear rolls down your cheek, because fuck you if a part of you doesn't want to say it. Not just because it's the only way you're going to get to orgasm, and he’s driving you insane. But because...you know it would make him so fucking happy.

You’re afraid if you say it aloud, it might be true.

You are so close, but he is a master of bringing you just to the edge before backing away. In that moment, you hate him as much as you love him. You know, you just know, that if you give in to this possessive madness so soon, there will be no going back. You will be so fucked, and not in the way you want to be.

You just shake your head.

“Go to hell.” 

It is, decidedly, the wrong answer, of course. His eyes darken, and he ruts inside you out of spite, spilling himself with a growl and his teeth in the curve of your neck. You feel the scalding hot rush inside you, the impossible fullness. It is good, and you are this close as he shudders against you, but in the end it’s just not enough.  

You keen miserably as his slick length slides from you, leaving you filled with his cum, utterly wrecked yet still unsatisfied. He wipes his tip across your belly, marking you.

Men.

“You are the stubbornest fucking woman I’ve ever met,” he grumbles low in your ear.

It sends a shiver across your skin.

You have to try twice before you find your voice.

“Thank you.”

He actually laughs, a harsh, disbelieving bark as he shakes his head at you. You watch as he goes to turn off the bath taps, the tub finally full, thoroughly enjoying the view despite how he’s left you. He steps into the water, turning so that he can see you with his arms on the rim of the tub.

You take some pleasure in the fact that he doesn’t look quite satisfied either.

Though your legs barely work, you slide down to the floor with a glare, intending to use the shower instead, away from him. You feel his seed dripping from you, down your thighs in warm thick rivulets. He didn’t ask if you are on birth control, and you’re grateful for your IUD, feeling like you’re armed with a secret weapon. If he means to bind you further to him with bearing his child…he’ll be disappointed. You decide right then that’s a card you’ll play close to your vest.

You take one step towards the shower before he makes a sound of warning low in his throat, and you freeze in your tracks. “In here,” he directs, and you close your eyes with wariness. Of course, that was the deal you’d made with the devil, and he’d warned you not to break an agreement with him.

He’s going to torture you more, you reckon, with his mouth or his fingers or maybe even that magnificent cock again, and you just don’t think your body can take it.

You’re not sure your heart can take it, either.

“Don’t make me ask again.”

Resigned to your fate, you go, sinking into the warm water. It would have been wonderful, you know, if your every nerve had not already been on fire.

You hover up to your neck in the deep tub, trying to relax and succeeding only by half. “Come here,” says your beautiful tormentor, holding out his hand to you. The invitation is deceptively gentle this time. Mr. Wick, the undisputed King of Hot and Cold.

“You are such an asshole,” you inform him as you take his hand, letting him pull you into the circle of his arms against his chest.

“So you tell me,” he says with his lips against your temple, his arm around your waist holding you to him. “You might be a tiger kitten, but you’re still just a kitten.” He almost sounds proud about it. “I’m going to win in the end.”

You’re afraid he’s right, but you’re not ready to surrender just yet.

[burntsecrets]

Sweet Chaos

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader Word Count: 1784 Summary: While staying in a cozy inn during a case, Sam surprises you with a gingerbread house kit he picked up at the local store. Warnings: Fluff, playful banter, NSFW, explicit sexual content, consensual intimacy A/N: This is for @moosekateer13 I'm your secret Santa for @spnfanficpond's Secret Santa 2024. I'm using the prompt for the @fluff-cember challenge, day 6: gingerbread house. I hope you like it!

The sound of the wind whistling outside the inn’s window pairs perfectly with the crackling of the small fireplace across the room. The case has been quiet so far—too quiet—but for tonight, you’ve managed to carve out a rare moment of peace. You’re curled up on the couch, flipping idly through an old book you picked up at the local thrift store when the sound of Sam clearing his throat pulls your attention. He stands in the doorway, his tall frame slightly hunched to accommodate the low ceiling. In his hands, he holds a brightly colored box, his dimples deepening as he grins at you.

“What’s that?” you ask, sitting up and tucking the blanket around your legs. Sam steps closer, holding up the box—a gingerbread house kit. It’s kitschy, with cartoon snowmen and candy canes decorating the front, but something about the gesture warms your chest. “Seriously? You bought that?”

Sam chuckles, setting the box on the coffee table in front of you. “I figured we could use a break. And hey, it’s festive.” You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. “Alright, Winchester. Let’s do this.”

The table is soon transformed into a sugary battleground. The kit includes walls, a roof, frosting in a plastic bag, and an assortment of candies that look slightly questionable but smell undeniably sweet. Sam carefully arranges everything with the precision of someone who has built a thousand IKEA bookshelves while you eye the frosting like a hawk–already scheming. “Okay, we start with the base,” Sam says, his brow furrowed in concentration as he pipes a line of frosting along the edge of the cookie walls. His big hands are surprisingly steady, and you can’t help but admire his focus.

“That’s cute,” you tease, picking up your own piping bag. “But my side is going to blow yours out of the water.”

“Oh, we’re making this a competition now?” Sam raises an eyebrow, his grin growing. “I thought this was supposed to be a team effort.”

“Teamwork is overrated,” you reply, nudging his elbow just enough to make his line of frosting wobble.

“Hey!” he protests, laughing. “You’re going to regret that.”

It starts innocently enough. You’re both diligently working on your respective sides of the gingerbread house, each stealing glances at the other’s progress. Sam’s side is neat, with perfectly aligned gumdrops and a roof that could be in a magazine. Yours… well, it has personality. “Why do you have all the gumdrops?” you ask, narrowing your eyes as Sam sneaks yet another piece of candy onto his side.

“Because I got here first,” he says, popping one into his mouth for good measure.

“That’s cheating,” you declare, grabbing the frosting bag and aiming it at him. Without thinking, you swipe a dollop of frosting across the bridge of his nose. The look of pure shock on his face makes you burst out laughing.

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that,” Sam warns, his voice low and teasing. Before you can react, he dips his finger into the frosting and smears it across your cheek. You gasp, feigning outrage as you grab a handful of flour from the nearby bowl and toss it at him. It’s chaos after that—frosting, flour, and candy flying in every direction. Sam’s laugh is loud and carefree, the kind of sound you don’t hear often enough from him, and it fills the small room like sunlight.

By the time the battle subsides, the table is a disaster. Flour dusts the air, and bits of candy stick to your fingers. The gingerbread house stands in the center, a wobbly, candy-laden masterpiece that looks like it barely survived a storm. You’re both out of breath, sitting side by side on the couch and surveying the mess. “Well,” you say, brushing a streak of frosting from your arm. “It’s not winning any awards, but it’s ours.”

Sam leans forward, inspecting the lopsided roof with a critical eye. “It’s got character,” he agrees, his voice soft. You glance at him, your heart skipping a beat, when you notice the frosting still smeared on his nose. Without thinking, you reach out and wipe it away with your thumb. His green eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the room feels impossibly quiet.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. Before you can respond, he leans in, closing the space between you. His lips are warm and soft against yours, the kiss slow and sweet, like the moment itself. When he pulls back, his hand lingers on your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray bit of flour.

The air between you shifts, charged with something deeper, something you’ve both been skirting around for weeks. His eyes darken, flicking down to your lips before meeting your gaze again. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he admits, his voice husky.

Your breath hitches, and before you can think, you’re tugging him closer, kissing him with a fervor that surprises even you. His hands find your waist, pulling you onto his lap as the kiss deepens, his tongue brushing against yours in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. Your fingers tangle in his hair, and he groans softly against your mouth, the sound making your pulse race.

Sam’s hands slide under your sweater, his touch warm against your skin as he trails his fingers up your back. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his lips moving to your neck, kissing and nibbling along your jawline until you’re squirming in his lap.

You tug at his flannel shirt, pushing it off his shoulders to reveal the toned muscles underneath. He’s breathtaking, all broad shoulders and lean strength, and the way he’s looking at you makes your knees weak. “Sam,” you whisper, your voice barely audible as he shifts, laying you down on the couch and settling between your thighs.

He pauses, his hand cupping your cheek as he searches your eyes. “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice gentle despite the tension in his body.

“Yes,” you breathe, pulling him down for another kiss.

Sam’s lips trail fire down your neck as his hands caress your sides, the warmth of his touch chasing away every thought but him. He shifts his weight, pressing his body against yours, and the heat of him sears through your clothes. Your hands slide over the planes of his shoulders, gripping him as his mouth moves lower, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone.

The soft glow of the fire bathes the room in flickering light, casting shadows across Sam’s face as he pulls back to look at you. His hair falls slightly into his eyes, his lips swollen, and his chest heaving. “You’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “I don’t think I can take my time with you.”

Your fingers skim over his jaw, your thumb tracing the edge of his lips. “Who says I want you to?” you tease, your voice breathy. The words light a spark in him, and he leans down, claiming your lips with renewed intensity.

In one fluid motion, he sits back, lifting you into his arms as though you weigh nothing. You let out a soft laugh of surprise, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you to the bed. He lays you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours as he settles over you. The tension between you hums like a live wire, the weight of his body grounding you in the moment.

His hands are sure as they slide beneath your sweater, pushing it up and over your head. You shiver as the cool air brushes your skin, but Sam’s touch is quick to warm you. He leans down, his lips brushing across your shoulder, then lower, kissing along the curve of your breast. Your back arches as his hands explore, every touch sending sparks skittering down your spine.

You tug at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours. He obliges, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. Your hands roam over his chest, marveling at the heat and strength of him, the way his muscles flex beneath your touch. Sam groans softly as your fingers trace the lines of his abdomen, his hips pressing against yours in response.

“God, you drive me crazy,” he murmurs, his lips finding yours again. His kiss is fierce, all-consuming, and you lose yourself in the sensation of him. His hands trail down your sides, hooking into the waistband of your pants and tugging them down. You help him, shimmying out of them as he follows with his own, leaving you both bare and vulnerable in the firelight.

Sam pauses, his gaze raking over you as though committing every detail to memory. “You’re perfect,” he whispers, his voice reverent. His words make your heart flutter, but there’s no time to dwell on them as he leans down, his lips brushing over your ear. “Let me show you.”

What follows is a blur of sensation—his lips and hands exploring every inch of you, the way he whispers your name like a prayer, the way his body moves with yours in perfect rhythm. The fire crackles in the hearth, the snow falls softly outside, and the world narrows to the heat between you, the way he makes you feel like you’re the only thing that matters.

Time seems to stand still as you reach the peak together, his name spilling from your lips as he groans yours into your neck. He holds you close, his body trembling slightly as the moment washes over you both. The room is silent except for the sound of your breathing, the fire casting a warm glow over the two of you.

Sam rolls onto his side, pulling you into his arms. His hand brushes your hair back from your face, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I think we make a damn good team,” he murmurs, his voice low and content.

You smile, resting your head against his chest. “Only when you don’t steal all the gumdrops,” you reply, your tone teasing but affectionate.

He chuckles, his laugh rumbling against your cheek. “Fair enough. Next time, I’ll share.” His arms tighten around you, and you let yourself relax into his embrace, the warmth of him and the fire lulling you into a blissful haze.

The snow continues to fall outside, blanketing the world in quiet, but inside the inn, the earlier chaos has given way to something softer, deeper, and undeniably real. For now, the case and the danger can wait. Tonight, it’s just you and Sam, and that’s more than enough.

[multi-fandoms-posts]

In the Shadows of Passion

Warning: Sexual content

In the dark alleys of the city, we stand surrounded by shadows and danger. We have just narrowly escaped a brutal attack. Logan has shown his merciless side to protect me. He threw himself into the fight with such intensity that I can hardly believe how much raw power he possesses. Every punch he threw was precise and powerful. The threat is gone, but the darkness and silence around us are almost tangible.

I stand there watching Logan, who is still in a fighting stance. He is breathing heavily, but his eyes burn with determination and something else I can't quite place. It's a strange mix of admiration and something rising deep within me. I feel the adrenaline pumping through my body, awakening a new feeling inside me.

Slowly, I step closer to him. “You really protected me,” I say quietly, almost reverently. My voice trembles a little, not just from fear but also from a strange excitement. “I didn’t know you could be so strong,” I whisper.

Logan turns to me, his eyes searching mine. “Sometimes you have to show your true nature,” he replies gruffly and seriously. “It’s not just about strength but also about dedication,” Logan explains.

I feel the distance between us beginning to dissolve. I take a step closer and can feel his warmth. The darkness and intensity of the moment make my heart race. “You’ve impressed me,” I whisper, placing my hand gently on his chest. “I never thought I’d react to you like this,” I admit.

Logan looks at me as if trying to read my thoughts. “It’s not just the strength that impresses you,” he says, placing his hand on mine and pulling me closer. “It’s also the feeling that I can protect you. That I can stand by you in the darkest moments,” he says softly.

Our bodies are now so close that I can feel his heartbeat. The moment between us crackles with intensity and tenderness. “I feel safe with you,” I say, looking at him. “But it’s more than just safety. It’s like you’re awakening a side of me I didn’t know existed,” I confess.

Logan places his other hand on my face and gently strokes my cheek. “Then let’s explore that side,” he murmurs. His face leans towards mine, and I close my eyes as our lips meet. The kiss is both gentle and passionate, a blend of gratitude and desire that overshadows all the excitement and adrenaline of the past moments.

As we pull away, we simply stand there, our foreheads resting against each other. “I’m glad you’re here with me,” I say softly, holding his hand.

“I will always be here for you,” Logan replies, pulling me closer. I feel his warmth flowing through me. My heart races, and the feeling of safety he gives me merges with an intense desire. His lips find mine again, this time more demanding, and I let myself fully fall into this moment.

His hands gently glide over my back as he pulls me deeper into the alley’s shadows, away from the world’s gaze, into our own little world. Our kisses become more intense, more urgent, as if we both want to forget the darkness surrounding us. I feel his fingers sliding under the hem of my shirt, the touch of his rough skin on mine makes me shiver.

“Logan…” I whisper against his lips, my voice soft with desire. His touches make me forget everything around us. The cold of the night has disappeared, and the only thing that matters now is the closeness to him. His hands continue to wander, exploring my skin as if he wants to know every inch of me.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice deep and full of unspoken feelings. His eyes search mine, and I see the concern and respect in them. Despite the passion, he is attentive to my comfort.

I nod, pulling him closer. “I want you… here and now,” I whisper, pressing my body tighter against his. “You’ve awakened something in me, Logan. Something I can’t ignore,” I say with longing.

His lips form a small smile before he kisses me again, this time deeper and more intensely. His hands slip under my shirt, slowly pulling it over my head. The cold air brushes against my bare skin, but it’s his touch that sets my insides aflame. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs against my skin as he gently trails his lips along my neck. Every touch, every kiss from him is like a fire spreading through my body. My hands find their way to his clothes, and with trembling fingers, I open his shirt, wanting to feel his skin, to feel his closeness more intensely.

Logan’s chest is firm and warm under my hands, and I let my fingers glide over the hard muscles I had only admired before. Now they belong to me, this moment belongs solely to us. He lifts me slightly and sets me on a nearby wall so that we are at eye level. His hands glide to my hips, and I feel the desire between us building, growing more intense.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he murmurs, pressing me gently against the cool wall. His lips are everywhere, traveling over my shoulders, my neck, and every time he touches me, it seems like the world around us fades a little more.

“Neither can I of you,” I reply breathlessly, pulling him closer. The feelings inside me are overwhelming, a mix of passion, security, and a deep, indescribable desire. Our bodies merge in the darkness of the night, and it feels like this moment could last forever.

The world around us no longer exists. There is only us, Logan and me, bound by a deep, intimate passion. Every kiss, every touch brings us closer, making us forget the darkness and cold of the world. We belong to each other this night, and nothing else matters.

Logan’s kisses become more urgent, his touches firmer. I feel the tension in him growing, as if he can barely hold back anymore. His hands are everywhere on my skin, his lips leaving no spot untouched. The desire in me grows stronger, and I find myself responding to him more, my hands buried in his hair.

Suddenly, I feel a change in him. His body becomes even more tense, and I notice his breathing becoming heavier. Logan pulls back for a moment, and when I look into his eyes, they are darker, wilder, almost animalistic. His gaze is full of passion but also something inexplicable.

“Logan...?” My voice is barely more than a whisper, a mix of desire and curiosity.

He looks at me, his chest rising and falling quickly. “I… I can hardly hold back,” he murmurs, his voice rough and deep, almost a growl. “You awaken something in me, something I can barely control,” he growls.

At that moment, I see his hands, which are around my hips, beginning to change. His claws start to emerge slowly. It’s fascinating and frightening at the same time, but instead of feeling fear, the desire within me only grows stronger. The raw power he exudes draws me magnetically.

“Let it out, Logan,” I whisper, gently stroking his chest, feeling his body tremble with tension. “I want you as you truly are,” I whisper.

A deep growl escapes his throat as he hears my words. He pulls me back to him, this time more fiercely, as if he can no longer suppress his animalistic side. His claws glide over my bare skin, gently enough not to hurt me, but firmly enough to give me goosebumps. Every touch from him is like a fire spreading through my body.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he growls, as his lips travel over my neck, enveloping me in a mix of pain and pleasure with every breath. “I could hurt you,” he whispers.

But that’s exactly what draws me in even more, the danger, the raw wildness he embodies. “I trust you,” I whisper, pressing my body closer to his, feeling every muscle working beneath his skin. “I want all of you, Logan,” I whisper.

That’s the final spark needed. Logan groans, almost like a deep, primal sound, before kissing me again with such intensity that I lose my breath. His claws trace along my sides, and although they are sharp, I feel nothing but pure desire. His kiss is demanding, possessive, and I feel him pressing me against the wall, as if he wants to hide us both from the world.

“You are mine,” he whispers roughly in my ear, his voice deep and filled with a mix of love and primal desire. “Only mine,” he growls.

“Yes,” I gasp, unable to think clearly. My hands glide over his broad shoulders, pulling him closer even though there’s hardly any space between us. “Only yours,” I say breathlessly.

Logan lets his claws gently glide over my back, and the combination of pain and pleasure nearly drives me mad. He holds me tighter, pulling me so close that it almost hurts, but I want more. I want to feel him, to be fully possessed by him.

With another deep growl, he lifts me as if I were weightless, and I wrap my legs around his hips. The raw power he radiates makes me tremble, and I know there's no turning back. I want everything he has to offer his passion, his wildness, his love.

That night, we belong to each other completely. Logan gives in to his animalistic side, his claws leaving fine marks on my skin, but the pain merges with the pleasure.

When it’s all over, Logan holds me tightly in his arms, his claws having disappeared, and his hand gently strokes my hair. "I didn’t hurt you, did I?" he asks softly, his voice returning to a gentler, more concerned tone.

I smile, feeling the warmth and love emanating from him. "No, Logan," I reply quietly, looking into his eyes. "You’ve shown me what it’s like to be whole. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything." I say.

He kisses me tenderly, and I know that this moment will belong to us forever. In the darkness of the night, we have revealed ourselves to each other in our wild, untamed nature, and nothing will ever be the same again.

[kingofanemptyworld]

Rin, identity issues, and the complications of being an isolated, alienated teenager

It feels sort of weird to say but I generally don’t head canon characters as having particular sexualities. Whatever people go for in fics is usually fine with me - gay, lesbian, bi, pan, something more general like queer. As long as it makes sense for the story they’ve built and the character they’ve shaped to fit it, I’m good. Unless you’re ignoring a canon LGBTQ+ sexuality, in which case, yeah, I’ll take issue with that.

But anyway. Rin.

I’ve got my personal ship for him (BonRin my beloved), but regardless of the pairing I see him as bisexual. He’s so open with his infatuation with Shiemi, and okay, sure, fandom likes to ignore the love interest in shounen for the most part because we’ve got gay ships to peddle. But I don’t see the point in that unless it really reads like it’s a front, or a result of a character suppressing themselves for one reason or another. And with Rin, I think it’s pretty clear his affection for Shiemi is sincere. You technically have the in-universe evidence of the demon that brought out his true desires to back that up, but even without it, Rin likes her. It’s complicated because of Yukio and Shiemi’s own inexperience with romance, and yet I never once doubt he really likes her.

That being said… he’s very appreciative of the guys in his life, too. (Peddling my gay ship here) Bon in particular, considering he’s often admiring how cool he thinks Bon is, that his haircut suits him whether it’s the blonde rooster look or the undercut. If you don’t want to see it as romantic interest, that’s your prerogative, but to me Rin comes across as seeing cool and cute as different traits he finds attractive (in Bon and Shiemi respectively).

I also think his bisexuality would fit neatly into his narrative struggles to “pass” throughout the early parts of the series. Rin has grown up as the neighborhood problem child, ostracized for being violent, and eventually he decides he’s fine with just his brother and his father — and the rest of the monastery, presumably — for company. (Except that’s absolutely not true and clearly he’s starved for friendship and support.) People looked at him and saw a monster, even before his demonic heritage made an appearance; why would he bother giving them even more ammunition when it comes to reasons to hate him? So no matter when he figured out his attraction to guys, he’s not going to lean into it, because he also likes girls, right? (Ignoring for a moment that bisexuality is a lot more nuanced than that.)

Rin likes girls, Rin is human — that’s what’s going to get people to like him, or at the very least tolerate him. That he likes guys, that he’s half demon, he can shove that shit down and pretend it doesn’t exist. Lock up any stray thoughts and keep the sword sheathed around anyone who doesn’t already know.

(Excuse me for being amused by Rin wielding his humanity and supposed heterosexuality as a sword and shield.)

The problem, of course, is that he can’t keep up the facade forever. The narrative won’t let him. Rin has to embrace his demonic side, because it’s the only way to move forward and to continue to help his loved ones. And once he’s moved past the issue of his friends being upset over the deception, when they understand he’s still Rin despite what he’d hidden from them, Rin is finally allowed to be himself. He uses his flames, he lets his tail move freely in the open around the Cram School kids. Rin still doesn’t like this side of himself — it’s inextricably tied to every moment of pain and isolation he’s dealt with his entire life, including the death of Father Fujimoto (and, y’know, his mom). But he is moving forward, he’s trying to adapt.

And isn’t that some great fucking subtext for his bisexuality, too?