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superficialdomina · 2 days ago

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Down Under - Part 2

Word count: 2.1k

Part 2 Warnings: 18+; minors DNI. Loki thirst. Aussie slang. A big lizard. Language. Reckon that's about it.

Part 1

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Part 2

The SHIELD operative who’d been sent to guide you into Hall’s Gap found you an hour after dawn, as you were packing up camp – just appeared out of the bush like Waltzing Matilda’s ghost, wearing an ancient cork hat and carrying a walking stick taller than she was.

Bruce offered her his hand. “Bruce,” he said. “Thanks for meeting us.”

“Aah, Dr Banner!” she said in a broad Australian accent, enthusiastically shaking his hand. “Great to finally put a face to ya name! Call me Ray,” she added, smiling widely as she nodded at the rest of you.

Thor – who was imposingly dressed in full battle attire, his red cape fluttering in the morning breeze – took her hand and kissed it magnanimously. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ray.”

Ray looked horrified as she pulled her hand out of his meaty grip, and Thor’s face fell as she wiped it on her shorts. “That what yer wearing, mate? Ya might get a bit warm.” You saw Loki hide a grin behind his hand.

“Ah - what happened to Agent Herriman?” Banner cut in before Thor could respond.

“Ol’ Jack? Crook, mate. Laid up down in Ballarat.”

Banner looked to you, and you realised he was waiting for a translation.

“Oh – he’s sick,” you supplied, distracted. You turned to Ray. “He doesn’t have this – this new infection, does he?”

“The horny bug?” She shook her corks to clear a swarm of flies that had gathered. “Nah, got the ‘rona.” She was still eyeing Thor as though he were a serious threat. “We ready to hit the frog n toad?”

“Just one more thing,” Banner said, pulling a series of small plastic cannisters from his pack and passing them around. “Antifungals. Take one every 12 hours. If you do get exposed, these should protect you.”

“Assuming it’s a fungus,” you added pointedly.

“Assuming it’s a fungus,” Banner agreed. “You too, Ray.”

Ray took the small bottle sceptically, stashing it somewhere in her myriad of cargo pockets. “Righto. Watch out for snakes.”

You left the campsite in single file, Ray in the lead. The climb wasn’t especially steep, but it was steady, with no undulation to offer respite to your burning calves. The bright summer sun quickly turned the warm morning into a swelteringly hot day, and your pack, filled with standard camping gear and an extensive list of SHIELD tech equipment, was heavy. You shifted uncomfortably at the sweat that had gathered between it and your skin, the damp spreading through your shirt.

You glanced up at Thor, ahead of you on the trail, still ridiculously dressed in battle leathers. They must be finding this heat brutal, you thought.

There was a scoffing sound behind you, and you realised the branch you’d just pushed past had flung back to nick Loki square in the face.

“Oh - sorry,” you said quickly, grimacing at the angry red mark across his eyebrow.

“I should be more careful,” Loki said acidly. He wiped his forehead, leaving a dusty, sweaty smear, but he didn’t complain further.

If Loki was handling the conditions with stoicism, Thor was more than making up for his silence. His face was bright red, and sweat poured from every conceivable inch of skin. He had begun using the corner of his cape to wipe his brow, and it was now a murky, rusty brown colour. At least he’s getting some use out of it, you thought wryly.

“Gah! These infernal flying creatures will be the death of me!” he bellowed, arms flailing at a cloud of bush flies. “Why must they congregate in the immediate vicinity of my face?! Aargh!” he spluttered, voice raised an octave, dramatically forcing air out his nose. “One of them has just flown up my nostril!”

“Supposed to be good luck,” Ray called back seriously, “’specially if it comes back out ya mouth.” Thor made a gagging noise; Ray didn’t seem to hear him. “There’s water in about half a k; we’ll stop there for smoko.”

“What is "smoko”?” Loki asked, as you carefully passed him the next cleared branch.

“Um - morning tea?” you replied. You swallowed as his long fingers took the branch from you; you weren’t often this close to him, and his lean body was distractingly luscious. Fuck, he really does look good in hiking gear.

There was another yelp from Thor, who had mistaken the snap of a stick underfoot for the strike of a snake.

“It’s the scorpions you’ve got to watch out for,” Ray added, not pausing in her climb up the overgrown track. “At least a snake’ll let you know it’s there.”

Thor’s mouth hung open as he stared after her.

Hall’s Gap was nestled into a long, flat gully between two mountain ranges, with a lake at one end and a steep climb out of the valley at the other. When the five of you arrived in the late afternoon, you quickly set up a small base camp a short distance from the lake edge, in the long shadow of a high rocky outcrop known as Sundial Peak.

You washed briefly in the cool water, rinsing away the sweat and grime of the day’s hike. It was all so… familiar. Feelings you had pushed aside all day came rushing back. Memories of the last time you had stood in the Australian bush, your back turned to your family home after another long, drawn-out argument with your conservative, narrow-minded father. Tears streaming down your face as you decided it was time to pack up and leave for good.

That was years ago. You can’t step in the same river twice, you reminded yourself. You were not the same person who had walked away from them that day.

Somewhat cleansed – literally and metaphorically – you made your way back to camp. A squawk from a large eucalypt announced your arrival; Thor ducked dramatically, covering his head with his hands.

“Gads! What the Devil is that noise?!”

“What – you mean the cockatoo?” you asked, puzzled. “That squawking?”

“Cock or… Two?”

Before you could correct him, Ray also returned, a very large, very dead goanna heaved across her shoulders. She slung it to the ground in a single, fluid movement. Thor saw the flick of its tail out of the corner of his eye and gave a high-pitched yell.

“It’s dead, you buffoon,” Loki sneered at him, “and it has legs.”

Ray grinned. “Caught him scurrying up a red gum.”

Your eyes were wide with hunger and glee. “They’re meant to taste really good!”

She gave a comical double-raise of her eyebrows. “Once that fire’s got some decent coals under it, we’ll get ‘im cooking.”

Later, as you all licked charred remnants of the oily white meat from your fingers, you made plans for the following day. Bruce picked up his cell phone and waved it around hopefully.

“Won’t get any signal up here, mate,” Ray said, as she casually carved a goanna rib-bone into a fishing hook.

“In that case,” Banner muttered, giving up on his phone reception, “I guess we do this the old-fashioned way.” He pulled out of his pack a large, paper map, and smoothed it on the ground.

“We’ll split up tomorrow. Thor and I will go into town and see what we can learn. If we’re lucky, I’ll find some unlucky bastard who’s dead enough to give up an infected brain sample. You two,” he glanced up at you and Loki, “will head into the national park to look for signs of Hydra. Ray will wait here for us and keep an eye on –”

“Fuck off,” Ray laughed, then realised Banner wasn’t joking. “Begging ya pardon, Doc, but if you think I’m waiting around here like an arsehole, yer dreaming.” She pointed her sharpened bone in the direction of town. “I’m coming with you.”

“Ah,” Banner hesitated. “Um, alright. I guess Ray’s coming with us.” He looked at you again. “Everyone back at camp by dark. If you don’t find anything, we can continue Thursday. If you do find something, stay in touch with the satellite radio. Apparently,” he added dryly, “there’s no cell service up here.”

Ray threw her head back and cackled with laughter.

You reached the summit of the Sundial by mid-morning. Dropping your day pack, you sucked down a large swig of water, then looked back at Loki below you on the trail. His hair was pulled into a low bun, that goddamn Akubra slung low over his eyes. It was, admittedly, sexy as fuck.

“Are you OK, Loki?” you asked as he neared you. It was reaching the hottest part of the day, and you were pretty certain that Norse Gods weren’t meant to be out in this kind of weather.

“Fine,” Loki snapped. His face was pink, and grimy with a combination of sweat and dust. At your small recoil, he softened. “I’m fine. Just... Hot.” He reached the uneven spread of rock you were standing on, and looked out across the valley, where the outcrop’s finger-like shadow fell over the smattering of houses far below.

“It’s pretty exposed up here. We should keep heading down and find some shade.”

“A moment,” Loki said, turning to look down over the other side of the crest. “How far are we from SHEILD’s first suggested location?”

You pulled out Banner’s tightly folded map. “We’re… Here.” You pointed to the little triangle marking the summit. “And Stark’s algorithm predicted these,” your finger passed over a small cross etched in red pen, “as possible Hydra sites. This is the closest one.” Loki peered at the little markings, then out across the landscape again.

“I am correct that the first of them should be in the next valley?” He pointed.

“Um…” Maybe? “Yeah, I think so.” You looked again at the worn paper. “At any rate, there’s probably water there. Give you – ah, us – a chance to cool down.”

You continued along the steep trail, descending now, watching your step in the uneven terrain. To the right of the track was a sheer drop; a misstep could send you on a severe short-cut to the creek at the bottom of the valley.

Loki must have stumbled behind you; you were briefly showered in loose scree and rock that had caught on his boot. You were about to ask him again if he was alright, when you heard it – running water. No, not running, you realised excitedly. Falling.

Another 300 metres, and the two of you stood at the foot of a roaring waterfall.

“Well,” Loki said, delightedly throwing his hat to the ground. “Shall we?”

Before you could answer, his long legs were carrying him to the water’s edge, a shimmer of seiðr peeling away his clothing as he went. Naked, he slid into the deep pool and dipped under the water.

Holy shit. It was only a second’s glance, but it was an image that you were certain would remain with you for a lifetime. The God of Mischief’s long, broad back and perfect, muscular ass, flexing as he strode away from you before it vanished under the surface. Holy shit.

You freed yourself from your own gear and waded in, gasping as you did. Unlike the Asgardian prince, you had opted to keep your underwear on, but the flimsy fabric did nothing to dull the slice of the cold. You knew the secret to quick acclimation, however, and with a hasty three, two, one, you ducked your head under the surface. When you reemerged, Loki was nowhere to be seen.

A short swim brought you to the foot of the falls. This close, the sound of it drowned out everything else; no birdsong, no insect buzz, no gentle wind through the treetops. Just the eternal roar of water crashing into the plunge pool. Even the force of it splattering your face was secondary. Behind it, the undercutting formed a dark, cavernous chamber, isolated from the world by the endless curtain of falling water, its sound muffled by its reflection off the rock face. The pool itself was deep – you couldn’t touch the stony bottom – and the rock was sheer, with wet striations reaching upwards to an uneven overhang way above. The seclusion was almost eerie.

“Fuck!” You jumped as something wrapped around your ankle in the dark water, before Loki’s mischievous grin emerged. “Jesus Christ, Loki!”

“Just ‘Loki’ will do,” he smirked. Does what it says on the tin, you thought grudgingly, eyeing him. His bun was gone; his wet hair was slicked back from his glistening face, fanning out over the pool and his bare, pale shoulders. His sculpted, naked body was only inches away from you under the water; you tried desperately to think about anything else.

“Good news, Agent,” Loki continued, still with that shit-eating grin. “I found a cave.”

Part 3

Tags in comments xx

#loki #loki x female reader #loki x reader #loki x you #loki fic #loki smut #avenger loki #sex pollen #(eventually)

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r4fe-cam3ron · 3 days ago

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Ooo Hii! If it’s okay, totally okay if not (also excuse my rambling)

Can I please request a Tangerine x reader where he’s on the train with lemon for the bullet train mission and he sees a girl and her bf, the bf is being really mean to her and she’s crying, and Tan immediately intervenes, definitely threatening the man after saying something to Y/n like, “Darling is this man bothering you?” Tan offering for her to come sit with him and Lemon instead of with this “prick” (Tan’s words lol), and when she tries to stand up, her bf grabs her wrist to stop her and Oooo boy does this light a fire in Tangerine who 100% at this time takes his gun out and points it at the man until he lets her go. And with Tangerine gently rubbing her back, she breaks up with her bf right then and there. Anyways, Tan walks Y/n over to their seats with a gentle hand on her back, making sure the crying girl is okay and telling her how she deserves better🥺

hi lovely! i am so sorry that this took forever for me to respond to </3 i hope that you enjoy and that it’s what you were wanting! thank you for being patient 💜 w; weird, toxic, boyfriend (boooo!) but not to fret, a handsome man with blue eyes saves the day. there’s a mention of a gun, and some mentions of the movie but no death! (lower case intended!)

tangerine and lemon were on a mission — grab a brief case, keep an eye on the white death’s loser son, then receive a bunch of dough and get on to the next mission.

yet, something kept bothering him — a lad at the end of the train and a woman who seemed as if she had been crying. tangerine couldn’t tell for sure, but her eyes looked sad, wet, and bloodshot.

the man — who had on a terrible tracksuit — had his head lowered, the girl to his side seemed to be flinching at every whispered word being spoken aloud.

he stands, buttoning his jacket. lemon stares up at him. “what are you doin’, mate?”

tangerine clears his throat, brows pinching together as his eyes trail away for only a moment. “i’ll be back,” he pats lemons shoulder before motioning over to the tattooed male by the window. “watch that delinquent.”

“i’m right here.” the russian boy says with a bit of sass. tangerine simply spares him a a glance before walking away and towards the back of the train.

he stops, the boys lowered voice never stopping, though tangerine still couldn't tell what he was saying.

your eyes quickly dart towards the stranger before they quickly drop towards the table again. the man clears his throat — your boyfriends words ceasing, head snapping over, veins protruding from his neck.

tangerine’s face screws up a bit — what a…different looking person. “i couldn’t help but notice that you look stressed, love,” he motions towards you. he waits until your eyes finally look over at him once more, a reassuring smile on his face.

“everything alright?”

your teeth bite into your bottom lip, chin wobbling a bit as you hesitantly nod when you distinctly feel the burning gaze of your boyfriend.

tan’s eyebrows lift, head tilting. “you’ll have to speak up for me to actually believe—”

“she said yes, what more do you want?”

tangerine waits a moment, eyes looking down at the boy. “she didn’t say anything. it’s also rude to cut off others. think before you do it again,” he looks back at you. “come with me.” he motions for you to stand.

you want to leave. very much so, and this is the time to do it. you don’t know the stranger — this handsome angel who showed up out of no where — but you feel as if you could trust him.

reaching for your bag, a hand quickly shoots out and grabs your wrist before you could move to stand, pinning your forearm to the table.

“you’re not leaving.” there’s something that pokes his side, his grip wavering their hold.

“i think you need to let go of her wrist before we cause a bigger problem, right, mate?”

his jaw clenches, eyes clouding with anger. slowly pulling his hand away from you, you stand quickly and slide out of your seat, into the hallway. tan never pulls away from him until your close enough.

slipping the gun back into the back of his pants, his hand presses against your back in a gentle touch, careful not to startle you.

“let’s get you away from this prick, hm?”

you smile a bit and nod, allowing him to lead you towards a different seat. he glances back at the boy, flashing his gun one last time, smirking.

#aaron taylor johnson x fem!reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine x reader #tangerine x you

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rosewoodcafe · 2 days ago

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So It Goes...

You've married into high society, the sacred twenty eight being the group you're seen in most. Though the Malfoy name and riches have suited you well, there's only one name on your mind.

18+ tw for smut

Ominis x Reader

[This is to make up for the sad post of yesterday lol]

[This is like my first time writing smut so like if it's bad I'm sorry]

[This is inspired by So It Goes... by Taylor Swift. Enjoy!]

"Darling, are you ready to leave?" My husband asked from the bedroom.

"In just a moment I will be." I responded.

My husband, Mr. William Malfoy, a respectable man in the wizarding community, and filthy rich. When I caught his eye after Hogwarts I took my opportunity to rise in the ranks of the wizarding community. These past two years have been the easiest, making this man fall so deeply in love with me that he turns a blind eye to how much I am using him. His money fueling the many parties I host, and the many things I buy to fill the mansion I call home. I have everything I want. How could I ask for more.

I settled the last part of my outfit, a diamond pair of earrings, before looking at myself in the full length mirror. A silky black dress hugged my figure, the sleeves long but sheer, and a slit up the left side. My hair was undone with it perfectly curled around my face, red lipstick being the only pop of color. I smiled at myself, knowing that everyone would be looking at me, and only be this entire party. The youngest bride amongst the other twenty eight families, yet the most stunning.

My walk out to the main hall was quick, clutch in hand with my wand tucked safely inside. I saw my husband waiting below, pacing in his all black tux. His eyes met my body and his jaw dropped.

"You look stunning my dear." He said, holding my hand as I walked down the steps. "You will draw the attention of everyone, and I shall be the one to break it to them that you are mine."

"Thank you, you look incredibly handsome as well." I smiled. He placed a small kiss on my cheek as I got into our carriage.

The Gaunt Manor was nearly identical to last year.

Not a single thing on the outside had changed, its haunting look being elegant against the sunset. The carriage landed amongst all the others, and the door opened quickly. William helped me out and wrapped his elbow in mine, leading us the marble steps of the Gaunt home.

Inside there were people everywhere, each in black or white, a mask adorning each face.

"Sir. Ma'am." A house elf said, handing a mas up to the each of us. William took his and quickly put it on, and I did the same. We entered the main hall where more people were, dancing in the center of the room.

There he sat, at the front end of the room, like a king.

Ominis fucking Gaunt.

I knew he would be here, obviously, but I did not expect him to be the one hosting the event in total. I hated seeing him.

William walked us closer to Mr. Gaunt, the two of us having to greet him. The crowd practically parted for us, the gasping at the display of the Malfoy name.

"Mr. Gaunt, wonderful to see you." William spoke to Ominis, who looked entirely unamused.

"Welcome Mr. Malfoy," Ominis spoke, "and, Mrs. Malfoy I presume."

"I am," I responded. "This is a beautiful party you have hosted Mr. Gaunt."

Ominis's eyes widened just a bit, the shocked expression turning to normal as quickly as it came.

"I hope you enjoy. I will be making my round soon." Ominis said.

William walked us both from the front table, Ominis's blind gaze following our direction.

The night went on without a hitch, my husband dancing with me in front of the crowd, the many whispers reaching across the party. Each only had one thing to say.

She's the most gorgeous thing I have ever seen.

It fueled my desire. I could feel Ominis's foggy gaze on us the whole night. The power I held of these people that gawked over me, over my looks. They were looking at me, and that's all that mattered. Our dance concluded and William stepped closer to me.

"I have to deal with some business," he whispered, "don't get yourself into to much trouble."

"No promises." I smiled. He returned the smile before leaving, disappearing into the crowd.

I walked back towards the wall, where not many people were at, needing a breath of fresh air. A door lead down an empty hall, one I knew I should not be in, but even if I was caught nobody would punish me. A balcony overlooking the garden was visible, and I opened the door, letting the warm summer air grace my lungs. I wasn't sure how long I had been standing there when I heard his voice.

"Malfoy, huh?"

I turned to see Ominis leaned against the open doorway, his arms crossed.

"Yes, I married him earlier this year." I said smugly. "You were invited, but I suppose your invitation got lost in the post."

A small smile crept onto his mouth, a devilish grin that any normal person would be afraid of.

"Don't be short with me dove," he paused, "you may be a Malfoy now, but that still makes you less then a Gaunt."

I could feel my jaw tighten. I hated him, I hated his smugness, and I hated how despite it all if he took me right here and now I wouldn't say a word.

"Cat got your tongue?" He chuckled.

"Actually no, the snake did." I shot back. I leaned over the railing, looking over the garden. I felt a hand snake up my back, resting just below my shoulder blade.

"I missed you." He spoke softly.

"I haven't."

"You most certainly have. If you didn't you would be letting me touch you right now." He smiled again, that damn smile that got him everything he wanted. But he was entirely right.

"If my husband saw you now-"

"He would say nothing," Ominis interrupted, "he would think it's an honor that he picked such a wife that a Gaunt heir wants her."

"You don't want me, you made that clear when I last saw you."

"And you told me that no matter what I would never touch you again, yet here we both are. Breaking both of our promises."

He moved his hand low, settling it on my hip. I wanted to pull him in, to kiss him and feel him.

"You ruined me." Ominis whispered into my ear.

"You ruined me." I whispered back, his other hand was on my arm, tracing up the fabric. "I was bound to marry the man I loved until you said he wasn't enough for me."

"Because I will never be enough for you." His fingers delicately moved their way up to my shoulder. "I will never be enough of a man for you."

"I didn't care."

"I do." He breathed heavily as he moved his body behind mine, pressing into me. "I did."

"If you don't care anymore, then take me." I whispered. His hand placed itself lightly around my throat.

"You are another man's wife." He hummed into my ear. "I can't take you."

"He hasn't had me."

Ominis quickly loosened his grip on my neck, spinning me to face him, my ass pressed against the railing of the balcony.

"He hasn't had you yet?" He said quickly. "How could he resist a woman like you?"

I smiled at his comment. Of course Ominis was shocked, even I never let him have me before. I was waiting for marriage, but William said he didn't enjoy such past times, so only when we wanted children is when he would provide that service to me.

"He has never once asked to take me." I said softly, pulling Ominis tie bringing him closer to me. His breathing became heavy. His hand weaving into my hair, tugging slightly.

"Would you let me take you?" His face was so close to mine, one slightly movement and our lips would clash.

"Only if you ask nicely." I smirked, leaning ever so close to him. He pulled my head back.

"Please dove, let me be the one to take care of you for the first time." He whispered into my ear.

"Yes, you may."

He pressed his lips needily into mine, his lips soft and sweet against my own. Ominis's lips trailed down my jaw, his hand tugging my head back by my hair to reveal my neck to him. I moaned into his deep kisses, the slight bites and licks he gave after.

I placed my hands on the side of his face lifting up to me. Our lips met again, with more of a hunger then before. I wanted him so badly for so long, and only now do I get him. My fingers fidgeted with his tie, attempting to undo it while I was also unbuttoning his shirt. I kissed down his jaw and neck as he caught my wrists in his hands.

"Not here my love."

His arms tucked under my thighs, hoisting me around his hips. I kept kissing him, leaving red around his jaw, neck, and cheeks. He walked inside, and to a room on the left, opening the door as he held me up, and closing it just as quickly. He carried me to the bed, placing me down so gently.

"You don't know how badly I've wanted you. How badly I wanted to please you in the way you deserve."

He ran his hands up the curves of my dress, taking in the sensation of the fabric. His lips trailed kisses up to my lips, leaving a heat behind that was addicting.

"I wanted you so badly." I moaned as he sucked on my neck. "Omi- I want you."

My hands found his hair, entangling my fingers in his old money locks. He gripped harder on my waist, holding me under his grasp. He made his way back up, kissing me deeply and letting his tongue explore my mouth. I tugged off his tie, throwing it hastily to the floor. He broke our kiss, taking off his suit jacket.

"Open your legs my dear." He whispered, a hand running up my bare thigh.

"What if I say no?" I humored, letting a small smile cross my lips.

"Then I will leave right now, and promise to never pleasure you again." Ominis smiled, leaning closer in and giving me a deep kiss. He settled his body between my legs, pressing his body against mine. I could feel the heat building in my stomach, and the warmth below from him.

He kissed me deeper and I moved my hips against him, making him groan into our kiss. He pulled me up so I sat on the edge of the bed, his hand wrapped in my hair as he explored my mouth further. I grinded my hips further onto him, making him groan more.

"You tease." He laughed as he kissed down, pulling at the neckline of my dress. "I need this off of your body, now."

"Then take it off."

He smirked at my challenge, pulling me in for a kiss as his hands worked at the back of my dress, pulling the top down to my waist. His kisses trailed down my body, hot and wet, his tongue finding my peak, taking it into his mouth and sucking on it. I felt so sensitive as I held his head, pushing him closer into me.

"O- omi- " I moaned out.

"Shh, you must be quiet." He licked around my nipple, giving it a kiss. "Unless you want the entire party, and your husband, to know I am making love to you."

"I don't," I let out a breath, melting to Ominis's touch. "I'll be quiet."

"Good."

He continued his assault on my mounds, taking time to pleasure each one until I was throbbing below. He teased me until I reached the edge, denying me the release. His fingers gracefully traced over the wet fabric of my panties, making my whole body shiver.

"I don't know why I pushed you away, when this could be you every night." He spoke softly between kisses. "This could be you as my wife ever night my dear."

I wanted to explode, every nerve ending on fire for how far he had pulling the string in me. I needed to release, every part of me needed to feel him.

"O-h Omini-s please." I moaned out as his fingers pressed into the fabric of my heat below.

"Someone is needy hm?"

He pressed against my sensitive bud, releasing a louder moan from me.

"Open your legs my love."

I did as I was told, opening my legs wider, the dress being pushed aside as he lowered himself to be in line with my heat.

"I'm going to taste you love. If you become uncomfortable, please tell me." Ominis placed a kiss at my stomach before moving the fabric down my legs, reveling my soaked opening. His finger moved along the inside of my thighs, finding the opening. "God you're going to be delicious."

Ominis's head delved into me, and I felt heaven for the first time. Each stroke of his tongue, each press of his finger, each suck made me reach higher and higher. I moaned his name as he held me closer, pulling my thighs into his face. I could feel that string tightening again.

"Ominis- I'm goin-"

He kept going at the same pace, relentless in the pursuit of my release. I could barely breath as I felt the string snap, sending me over. I felt as if everything was right, that I truly was Ominis's in this moment, that I only would ever be his. He lifted his face from me, licking his finger clean of my release.

"You are the best this I've tasted at this party my love." He whispered into my ear. I held his face as I kissed him, tasting myself on his lips.

"I want to taste you." I said softly.

"No, this is all for you tonight." He smiled. "I want you to feel as amazing as you can, so when you have to crawl back to that husband of yours, you'll think of me when you have to touch yourself."

Ominis raised himself from me, undoing his pants, and pulling out his length. Unintentionally I let out a small gasp.

"Like what you see?" Ominis chuckled.

"I- I didn't know they were that big," I paused. "I don't know if it will fi-"

"It will," he smirked, "you were made for me, of course it will fit. Now breathe, it will be a bit painful the first time, I will be gentle."

I took a breath as he lined himself up with me. I could feel his tip rub against my fold, a tingling sensation arising through my body. He finally eased it into me, slowly inching himself deeper into me. It was painful, like a stab into my body, but I also felt entirely complete. Ominis buried himself deep into me, finding my lips and exploring my mouth with his tongue. After a moment he pulled himself out partially, and pushed himself back in.

"Fuck darling, you are so wet," he whispered. "It's taking everything in me to not release into your perfect self."

He pushed in a little harder, releasing a groan from his lips. When he pulled out again it was nearly his whole length, and upon pushing it back in I moaned out one thing.

"Harder."

Something clicked in Ominis, his ridged body before gripping into my flesh. His careful demeanor gone, and the gentleness disappeared. Harder then before he began pushing and pulling himself in me, making me body shiver to his touch.

I wanted to scream his name as he pushed deeper into me at a harder pace. His lips searing hot as he kissed my body. I felt my nails dig into his back, scratching down as his dick slammed into the most sensitive spot in my heat. The string in me tightened each time he pushed into me, his hand held my wrists above my head. My body was at the complete mercy of Ominis, and I liked it. He moved his other hand to my bud, rubbing it as he pressed against me harder. His breathing became erratic as he pushed harder and deeper into me, making me see heaven again.

"Release for me darling, I want to feel you." He whispered as he kissed my neck. It sent me over the edge, my walls pulsating on his length as I rode through my high. "Fuc- love I can- I'm going to-"

"Do it in me!" I moaned out as he slammed into me.

"I-"

"I want to be yours Ominis Gaunt!" I felt my legs shake as he pounded harder, letting himself release into me.

He let my wrists go, holding himself up while still plunged deep in me.

"Love, I need you to leave your husband." He chuckled. "I can't live without this- without you, anymore."

"Perhaps Mr. Gaunt, maybe a certain someone is slipping a poison into Mr. Malfoy's drink as we speak." I smirked. "Leaving me a fortune, and a widow."

"You're such a bad girl."

"I only do bad things for you."

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #ominis x mc #sebastian x mc #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis #ominis gaunt smut #ominis x reader #hogwarts legacy sebastian

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red-doll-face · 2 days ago

Text

Snow Angel 10

Chapter 10: adamant Series Masterlist

low - medium honor Arthur Morgan x fem. Reader

Arthur has been living by himself, laying low (for real this time) somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. After the whole Pinkerton and Micah debacle, he has been hiding away, waiting for it all to blow over, occasionally getting letters from the people who still know that he’s alive. He’s been alone awhile and at first, he thought he could handle a little loneliness. He has been wrong before. Lucky for him, you look like the perfect thing to break up the monotony.

Warnings: depictions of a panic attack. PLEASE AVOID if that would end up harming you i beg !!! dubious consent, arthur’s mental health is kind of not so good…VERY low honor Arthur, darkish fic, a bit of naive reader. Reader has dated and period typical ideals, not very good ideas about men and marriage… if you want reader to be strong and a fighter… this is not for you sorry. suggestive themes. I am being serious when I say that arthur is bad at handling this situation. he does not think he has done anything wrong. if youve been reading so far you know that that is BAD. please do not read if you can't handle it, im putting a giant RED FLAG on this WC: 4753 SNOW ANGEL DROP TN??? everybody say thank you to @emerald-ranch CHAPTER 10 !!! we did it !! it took me a while to churn this out and get it to a place that i liked. im still not even sure i like it LMAO thank you for all of the lovely little niche questions i get about my strange snow angel arthur, he is everything to me and i love to speak him into existence. first time writing angst soooo Tags: lots of angst todayyy, no TB, weird but not that toxic relationship, Arthur being a menace.Arthur being rude as always just… low honor arthur as a warning lol You and Arthur clear the air.

“Caught me a little bunny, pretty one too,” you can feel his excitement behind the fabric of his pants, his belt digging into you uncomfortably. Arthur’s features, although covered in shadows from the dusk drawing in, still reflect his anticipation. He takes his hat off, his hand drags his hair back, damp with sweat, darker than the usual lighter brown. Some of it still flops over into his face anyway.

Your hands push at his shoulders weakly, whining as he dips down to kiss you, the warmth of his breath fanning over the roundness of your cheek, you can feel the scrape of his stubbly hair on your face, the dimple at the tip of his nose brush over you.

“Arthur, please, I just- I wanna go home, you won, you got me,” he hums, running his tongue over your neck, his arms prop his body up over yours, keeping you warm in the cold chill. He covers you well enough, shields you from the winter with his frame, wide and heavyset. You can feel the rumble in him when he says ‘you’re damn right, I did,’.

The sky is a pretty shade of purple, a little like lavender. You look up, feeling his body tilt to one side, held up on his elbow, his other takes the opportunity to roam over your body. “We can go to our home, Arthur,” you try to pull at his desires, but he won’t have any of it.

“Wanna see my prize first,” he says between puffs of air, his tongue pacing over the delicate skin of your neck. His hands tug your skirt upwards while you try and keep your legs closed. His hands grip the fat of your thigh, dipping under the dainty fabric of your stocking. Between his legs is the rather stiff press of him and his arousal. You don’t like how easy it is for your body to respond to just the notion of him taking you like this, like an animal.

His rough fingertips skim over the mark he left on you, the one your mother saw.

“All you had to do was say you liked it. I know you did. You like everything I do,”

“I-No, I…I couldn’t-” You couldn't make it stop. Couldn't make your body stop reacting to him is what you want to say. But to say so would admit that some part of you liked what he did. You snap your mouth shut like a coin purse. You can’t bring yourself to say such a thing. Not that his ideas deserve to be validated. He gives you a knowing look which sends a tremor down your spine, your legs shifting nervously.

“Quit your lying’, girl, you ain’t fooled me yet. Shouldn’t be ashamed, sugar; I might be a bastard but I ain’t the worst thing coulda happened to ya,”

“I’m not trying to…I told her not to say anything,” you whine and push again at his shoulders but he doesn’t budge.

“Mhm, how come I don’t believe that for a second,”

Either way, he drops his mouth to your neck, sucks another painful mark just under your ear, the sensitive skin tingles with sensation, pulling pain from your nerves. You tilt your face away, you can’t get him to stop. You can hear the wetness of his tongue moistening your skin before he's sucking a deep red mark, which will be another bruise on your skin. You pull at his hair, but you’re held down just as easily while he nips away.

Your back arches, your skin tingles. A lewd whimper is all you have to offer, keening for him. The quiver inside you isn’t mindful at all. Pure reaction, pleasure rising to the surface.

He gives you more than one this time, leaving them at his leisure. He's ripping your blouse open next, so he can leave more on your breasts. The soft flesh is alight with nerves, rippling desire through you.

“Think you’re starting to like it, angel,” you still your body, disconnected from its actions, which until then was moaning, clutching his shoulder for dear life. The tide of your emotions rises higher though, ice cold water crashing down on the pleasant warmth gathering on your lower belly.

Like you’ve stepped in front of a wagon train, the panic sets in, more than any other time before now. A shameful part of you; an awful desire that burns for Arthur somewhere inside of you, wants him to keep going. To make good on all of his promises. But it’s too difficult to indulge that part of you. The shock of what happened in your family’s home is too much. It drops on your head like an anvil or a blacksmith's hammer. You’re entirely too aware of how your father’s blood dripped over his own fingers. Your mother crumpled to the ground as she watched Arthur take you away.

“I don’t-don’t want to do this right now, please,” It’s maybe the first time you cry at his insistence. And the first time you’ve been utterly clear about what you do and don’t want. In the most explicit terms possible. You feel the tears well up in your eyes. You cried like this when he first told you what he wanted. They drip down the sides of your face. You hadn’t been able to stop him on the first night. And after he made you all too aware of how things work between a man and a woman, you hadn’t tried to, overwhelmed with how good he was at dragging pleasure out of you. But now, it’s like the world has come closing in and there’s nothing that can stop it from swallowing you whole. Not after what he did, simply because your father thought to stop him from taking his only daughter away.

Your breathing comes far too quick. Your head feels like it's full of air and it begins to hurt. The cold stings your finger tips. You have no regard as to what your face looks like, letting it bunch up in what is probably an unsightly expression of your reactive sobbing.

“Hey, hey, I-” He’s no longer using that husky tone with which he usually addresses you when he gets like this. It’s trying to be soothing but a certain panic underlines his words. You can see him take his hands off of you, as if he’s burning you with every touch. But he still keeps you underneath some of his weight, his mouth opens as if to say something else, furrowed brows

“Get off…Get off me,” you push at his shoulders and at first he doesn't move an inch. When you don’t immediately feel his weight move from pinning you down, your sobbing becomes volatile. Struggling to breath through your tears and your desperate wails, you inhale faster but it still feels like it's not enough. Thrashing mindlessly at him, uncaring of his anger or his punishments, is what makes him ease off of you a little.

“Woah, easy,” he tugs your skirt down, shielding you from the cold as much as he can without touching you but you can’t stop yourself from being consumed by the physical reaction your shock evokes from you, wrenched from you. Like a child and their toys infected with scarlet fever.

His soothing does work a little, now that you know he’s stopping, that he’s covered your legs. You sniff and writhe, your fingers grip at his upper arms. You can finally blink through your tears to see his expression, worry clouded with something you’ve never quite seen. The pull of his mouth tugs towards a guilt he’s never shown you before.

You’re starting to breathe way too much, all of the air makes you dizzy and the cold still burns your lungs but you don’t care, letting the pain ground you. Your arms wrap around yourself to cover your breasts, trying to fix your ruined shirt to no avail. The frustrated fumbling of your fingers has Arthur softening more, but his voice still intonates with his natural authority.

“Sweetheart, you need to slow down. Jus’ breathe, you’ll be alright,” his commanding voice controls you more than you thought it would. He sits back on his haunches, hoping the distance might do you some good, crowding you isn’t in his best interest. You gasp for air, sitting up a little with the space he’s afforded you.

Arthur comes closer to calm you when he notices you can’t seem to do it all on your own. He’s slow, shushing you, his hand pets your hair, down behind your ear, to the side of your neck. He keeps his eyes low, the warmth of his hand helps you a little, so does his own rhythmic breathing, slow and steady.

He doesn’t say much for a minute or two, a ‘that’s my girl,’ tingles your ear, warms you up. You sigh, trying to regulate your breathing, appreciating his help but still feeling frightened and confused. Especially when you consider that he is the source of all your troubles. Arthur is close enough so you feel body heat, his fingers brush your tears away. Sweet in this gentle moment. How could you stand to take comfort from a man who shot your father? Who could have missed, who could have killed him? As always, you doubt that you’re right in the head. Something must be broken within you.

It’s hardwired though. Arthur is all you have left now. The only one here with you.

He doesn’t seem excited in the same way he was before. The adrenaline from his chase dies in your blood, leaving behind the residue of stress, a headache forming. The pace of your heart does slow down now, the puff of the air in your lungs. He watches you with an odd expression. Glad that you’ve calmed down but still disappointed. Perhaps with you, having ruined his plan of taking you, of spreading your legs in the snow, burying himself inside of you. If things hadn’t gone so wrong today, you might have let him.

The thought makes more shameful tears drip down your face. Despite any calm summoned from you, you still feel the curl of disgrace, laying in your tattered shirt underneath this man, shrinking away from his stare.

“What's wrong? Did I hurt you?” You can at least appreciate that he is worried about you, even if he has no clue why. You can see a fear in his eyes that he tries to hide from you, a fear that he’s caused you real pain. At least you know now that if you had done more screaming and crying, he might have stopped that day. You didn't think him to be so thick as to not understand why you are as emotional in this moment as you are.

“Arthur, no, no, I just- I don’t want- I want to go home…now,” You had wanted to come away from this moment, maybe just a bit touched at how he had helped you through your foolish hysterics. But as always, some part of Arthur balances it out.

“Just tell me why you was cryin’. I know that ain’t all of it,” He narrows his eyes. Your jaw drops, unable to hide your outrage. Your anger, which you keep in check most of the time, pushes at the lid of the pot you stuff it in. Every single grain of it threatens to spill out. Your fingers scrunch, your face does too.

“Shooting my father and then hunting me like an animal; pushing me in the dirt for- for your desires- that’s not enough?” You realize now that dusk is here and it’s colder in this dark valley than it was before. You move to stand, he’s upright before you and he does try to help but you refuse him. Unfortunately, your anger hasn’t been honed into a point sharp enough to cut. It’s only wet and girlish, it makes you cry and tremble, your throat thickens unpleasantly.

“You did what you wanted with me, like you always do. But my family… I never wanted-” You wobble onto your feet, closing his coat in front of your chest. You should never have indulged him. You should have bitten and chewed and snarled and spat until he left you alone.

You aren't sure why you didn't. You suppose it felt nice to have a man notice you, to call you pretty. To want you in some way other than to just ignore or to leer at disgustingly like the lonely trappers at the trading post, even when they were friends of your father. How pathetic of you.

Yet, nothing about what he did felt disgusting. It was the expectation on you as a woman to reserve these affections for marriage that lashed against the inside of your ribcage. That whispered that it was wrong; it was anything but the pure and gentle lessons you received as a girl. Opening your legs so willingly for a man because he called you pretty, called you all sorts of saccharine praises, was tearing away at you. You hadn't fought him harder and at first you thought it was because there was no point, that he was too strong anyway so why waste the energy? But now, you aren't so sure of that resolve.

He was handsome in his own way and he didn’t seem like all the boys your mother told you to keep an eye on in case you should marry one day. Lanky and thin, sparse hairs on their chins which they stroked like great beards. He wasn’t a drunken fool or witless boy.

Arthur was a man. He acted like one, he smelled like one, looked like one. He wasn’t afraid to muck stalls, to cook. And he acted like you were married already, like you loved him and he loved you. Perhaps you liked the idea of having a man such as him, a man who didn’t need you to replace his mother’s duties, a man who wanted you to simply be with him. And those glittering moments where you played house with him, sat on his lap and let him kiss you. You could have stayed with him there forever, buried in the snow. You would have been happy if spring’s thaw never came. But now, he stands, with an almost resentful look at your accusatory tone.

Everything has dissolved into a coagulated mess, like spoiled milk.

“I do what I want with you? The hell does that mean?” He’s more upset now, at the insinuating circumstances.

“Arthur,” you recoil at the anger in his voice. You don’t even know what you meant particularly but Arthur fishes a meaning out from your words, even if you hadn’t put too much stock into your own words.

“You’re sayin’ that I violated you, is that it?” his hands rest on his hips as he moves to keep staring you in the eye, you’ve never seen him like this before. Really angry.

“I didn’t ask to do that with you, I told you to…” It’s like he can sense how noncommittal you are with your own sentiments. Your own certainty doesn't linger with you. As much as you would like it too. He sniffs it out like a bloodhound, throwing the truth in your face.

“You know what I think? I think- fact, I know. You’re one of those gently reared girls, think they’re better than this, above any of this low down ruttin’ us sinners do. You can’t even say it, can you? All that we got up to. That’s called fuckin’ , sweetheart,” The word curls into his vicious smile. You’re scandalized, can feel how your hands pull his coat even tighter. You don’t think you’ve heard anyone talk like that to you. It’s a dirty word but you suppose that is what it felt like to be with him. Dirty. But that rush, you can’t deny that. The one that shoots up your spine when you remember how it made you feel.

“Can’t say you ain’t like it, can’t say you did; and I get it. Ain’t the first time I met a girl like you. But you can’t lie to me,”

You ignore the hind-brain jealousy that pokes your mind. His words are truer than you want them to be. You said stop once or twice, although you can’t recall too well about things you said. Instead, you told him you belonged to him. You had meant to endear yourself to him. It worked far more than you wanted it to.

Pretending like you didn’t want him to do what he did protected your own self important image as your father and mother preferred you, not how things really were. And now that you don’t have them anymore, what use was that image? You try to cling to the truth of your old life, crumbling to pieces around you.

“It’s not just about that. I…I didn’t say yes…I thought you would hurt me, you told me you didn’t want me to fuss. When you told me I had to stay…” you stun him, he seems like he hardly remembers doing that. In that low voice, his startling command. It scared you to the bone then, but it did shake something awake. You had never felt so wanted in your life as that day. Both of you are some type of wrong, you think. Maybe he recognized the same kind of wrong in you.

Carefully, he mulls over what you said. It affects him, you can see how that same guilt settles in the creases of his face. It roots around his eyes, the harsh lines soften. How his boots scuff against the ground. One of his hands scratches at his beard. But all too soon, it’s gone and a resolve hardens on his face, like he’s dashed the guilt away. Made room for something else.

“Am I just supposed to believe you was lyin’ when you said you liked it? I don’t make you talk, darlin’. You might be pretty as a doll,” He looks over your features, over your hair and your pouting lip. “But you ain’t no string puppet. Wouldn’t hurt you, honey, not like that, not how you’re meanin’. It’d do you some good to remember that ain’t true ‘bout most anybody else,” He lets his body naturally intimidate yours, looking down his nose at you.

You don’t know how he can have such a prideful stare. Like he knows he’s right. He pushes the memory of your father, kneeling and gripping his wound to the front of your mind.

“You didn’t have to shoot him. Heaven forbid my father from trying to protect me from you. Wouldn’t be the first time a father tried to keep his daughter from marrying you. Arthur, why exactly is it your first instinct to go waving a gun around when something goes wrong? I don’t understand what drives someone to do the things you do,” He chuckles darkly, as if you told a morose joke at a funeral. He does let a quiet frustration come over him, a glare gets leveled at you. But he holds himself tightly in his own restraint. Your retaliation against him; he treats it as a minor slight. You cross your arms while he brushes it off. All too good at letting insults slide off his back.

“That makes the two of us. I ain’t been a good man most my life and I ain’t sure I’ll ever be any good at it. I try to be good to you, I do, but maybe it ain’t enough. That’s just fine with me,” He steps closer to you, sensing your shock at his words. He’s back to that prowling wolf from before. His demeanor changes on a dime. He bends at the waist to grab his gloves and hat, dusting the bottom of the brim casually against his coat before placing it back on his head. His gloves are shoved haphazardly in his pocket. “I don’t know if I need that from you, some fairytale love story, where your Pa hands you over to me and I bring you up to the altar dressed like a government boy,” You’re almost afraid of him, how he carries himself. There's a dread hanging in the air around him, a foreboding poke in the back of your head.

“Used to be an outlaw, around New Austin, Heartlands, all over…” you look at the cold look in his eyes. Colder than the snow that dusts the ground. Frozen stiff like a corpse, but you tremble anyway. He shifts his legs, widening his stance and placing one hand on his belt, next to the shiny revolver. “I’ve killed people, robbed them, or both…done things I wasn’t always proud of. I ain’t too proud of what I done with you neither. Tellin’ you that is…just about as good as bein’ married. Can’t let ya go wanderin’ off knowin’ the truth, now,” Arthur raises his arms in something like a shrug. The nonchalant air about him has that wet anger rising in your throat again.

“You ain’t goin’ back home. Least the home you had. Me puttin’ a bullet in your Pa don’t change that. I’d advise you to make your peace with the fact. I keep havin’ to tell you. I hate repeatin’ myself,” You continue to stare, eyes wide with the realization of his truth. An outlaw. You must be the most unfortunate girl in the state. To walk into the home of a killer. Your thoughts trail back to how he disposed of the body of the man who had tried to rob you. The cold and careless manner of dealing with death was telling then. It screams at you now.

“I-I’m not some belonging for you to collect, for you to hang on your wall. To put up on top of your fireplace, Arthur,”

“No, you’re much more than that,” You aren’t completely sure of his meaning. But it’s something that entails you being with him how he wills it. No better than being chained to his bed, really. He nears you and you do take a wary step backward, a little afraid of the neutrality on his features. He schools his reactions, tells you of his past with no remorse.

“If you care for me, care for me at all, wouldn’t you- wouldn't you let me go?” you ask but you know his answer, when he finally closes in on you, drags one finger down the curve, the roundness of your cheek. His thumb rests on your lips, his other fingers curl around to almost the nape of your neck. His hand makes you feel entirely too small in his hold. Guides you to look up at him, as your fingers clutch the fur of his coat tightly around you.

“See, that’s the problem right there,” he has a strange twist to his voice, a light lilt while he smirks down at you, the darkness dipping the shadows across his face into an even darker tone. “I care about you too much. Maybe it ain’t right, can’t say I give a damn either way,” the fragility of this moment isn’t broken until he puts a kiss on your lips that’s a thousand times lighter than the precarious air of this conversation. But you should have known being so restrained isn’t permanent with Arthur.

A strong hand closes on your hip, drags you into the front of him. His breath quickens, it flatters you how much he likes you so near to him. Your hip aches pleasantly as he squeezes it. Your heart swells, you wish you could will yourself into rejecting him.

“Tell me you don’t want me, honey. Tell me to leave you alone…” You’re stiff as an iron rod when he pulls you to him. You brace yourself on him, hands compelled naturally to lay flat on his chest. Something about the full form of his body is so pleasing to you, the breadth of him against you. The warmth you feel and the strength lying in wait. The smell of him, leather and hide, tobacco and mint. It closes you in. You open your mouth to say something. Anything.

“Arthur, that’s not fair,” you whine. Your anger might have caused you to lash out at him for once. But you’re back to the docile thing he liked to chase around, too occupied with his body so close to yours to realize that you’ve dropped all pretense of that strong front, that you haven’t answered his question. You wish you could continue being the kind of person who could tell someone like Arthur what he's asking. Strong willed, not so swayed. But you’re moved in the opposite direction by whatever is inside of you, some deep buried want of yours. And the constant tone of knowing that he’s bigger and stronger than you. It’s always there, rain pattering on the roof in autumn. He had no trouble chasing after you like this, in the encroaching dusk. It was more a game than any real challenge.

“Just say it, you keep tryin’ to, don’t ya?” you look away. Why can’t you say it? When he’s inviting you to rebuff him. You look up at him. A knot gets tangled in your insides. Your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth. What is wrong with you?

“You can’t cause you don’t mean it, not when this little pussy gets wet when I touch you, when you kiss me back. You don’t remember when you was touchin’ all over me? Those kisses you put on me?” he teases you, a more smug exhale is what you get. The night weighs on your shoulders like a heavy blanket and so does his reality check. He has a sigh and a faint groan, as if thinking of all that you’ve done with him in the privacy of his home.

You think to defy him, to spite his words but you can’t when he gives you another kiss. The dryness he licks away. This one is a wet sloppy mess, it doesn’t last long but he’s as right as he knew he was, you melt into it, grab onto him, tilt so he can kiss you deeper. His teeth nip at your soft lips, his tongue rubs over yours. A warm shame fills your belly and crawls up your face. You can’t bring yourself to hate his stupid smug lovesick look, the way he rubs the scar on his chin as he pulls away.

“You like me, don’t you, sweetheart?” He’s mocking you now, he knows the answer just as well as you do but he likes to feel like he’s wrenching it out of you. He’s caught you and he’s holding you up by the ears while you dangle uselessly; a rabbit caught in the hunt. You stare up at him, caught in his pretty blue eyes, the little nicked scar on his nose bridge. You have a very reluctant almost imperceptible nod. Despite the raging heat in you at such an admittance. You like the man who locked you in his home, who wants you to marry him while hardly knowing him, who used to be an outlaw.

“Even after I shot your daddy? You’re somethin’ else, girl,” he revels in your reaction but with his own version of pity, an endeared expression at your warbling chin and heavy sniff.

A bad feeling curdles in your belly, you bite your lip. You shouldn’t do this. How could you ever do this to your family? Turn your back on them like this? But you didn’t see another choice. Tears bead on your lash line. He has to rub his inevitable victory in your face. You don’t know how you’re going to continue. How you can even stand the sight of Arthur: of yourself. Now that he’s twisted everything out of shape to suit his needs. You should spit on him. Curse him until he gets struck down by the powers that be.

But you don’t. You aren't sure there’s any end to that. You hope to never repeat this cycle again. Where you try to pull against his control and he overpowers, strong-arming you into doing as he pleases. He gathers your tears, brushes them away. Rough calluses over the little sensory hairs on your skin.

“C’mon, sweet thing, it’s time you get what ya want, huh? Time to go home.”

UGH this arthur gets on my fucking nerves but i am so weak for him i hate his corny ass. god dark arthur is just too much for me lmaooo feedback is more than appreciated, please let me know your thoughts im begging wahhhhh

#❄️ snow angel #red writes #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan #low honor arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 x reader #tw dark content #tw dark fic #tw dubcon #red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption #arthur morgan x female reader #low honor arthur morgan

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blackgirlsloveburrow · 1 day ago

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Can we have Joe with black wife effect

yes! okay here we go

you and joe are sitting on the couch enjoying each other’s company. he’s looking through instagram while you’re reading a novel.

“hey babe,” he says breaking your attention away from the book.

“yeah?”

“what’s the black wife effect?”. he asks this so seriously you can’t help but laugh a little bit.

“what? don’t laugh at me baby,” he pouts.

“okay, okay i’m sorry. why are you asking though?” you reply. even though you know why.

“a lot of the fans are saying i’ve been hit with the black wife effect,” he says.

it’s funny that he’s bringing this up now. you guys have been together for a long time, getting married just last year. he’s definitely had a little extra spice added to him over the years. a big thanks to you specifically and being around his teammates. you were a big confidence booster for him when you guys first got together. especially when his teammates would ask him, surprised, how he managed to get with a black girl. they would ask like it took some type of magic to do it. in reality, you were drawn to his dorkiness.

you could see it on the field too in his celebrations. he’s become a little more outward about himself in front of the press too.

let’s not forget the fashion though. he always asks for your opinions on his clothes, even letting you buy them sometimes so that he’s looking fly always. he also loves when you give him opinions on his hair cuts. loving the way you rub his head when you’re proud of the way it looks.

you climb on his lap and he looks up at you. you give him a kiss on the lips and tell him “it just means you have more culture now that you’re with me baby,” you say smiling and explaining further.

“hey i had culture before i met you,” he responds a little defensively.

“baby…the haircuts, the outfits, and if we’re being honest the food too”. you’re laughing a little more now.

he thinks about it some more. “okay you’re right ,” he responds. he rolls you over on the couch and kisses your face multiple times, thanking you in between.

“of course i am. everyone can see it baby,” laughing, and finally responding when you break away from the kisses.

you look a little disheveled from the kiss attack. he’s staring at you.

“i’m glad you’re in my life y/n. i love you so much,” he says.

“i love you too joe”. you go in to get kissed some more.

#cincinnati bengals #joe burrow #nfl #bengals #jb9

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peaceoutofthepieces · 1 day ago

Note

If you're still taking Heartstopper hug prompts, I'd love to see either the desperate hug or the hug you don't deserve. Thank you!

i'm sorry this took so long!! and i kinda forgot what the prompt was and it just kinda got shoehorned in at the end. whoops. i had this idea for a long time and i ended up thinking it just kinda fit with this, so i hope you enjoy!

18. tight and desperate 28. the hug you don’t deserve

Charlie didn't even know how the argument had started. He certainly hadn't intended it, but maybe he should have predicted Nick’s reaction, should have known where the line of conversation would go. Maybe a part of him had wanted it, had been provoking Nick with subconscious purpose.

The thing was he couldn't have expected this reaction, because Nick’s go-to wasn't to argue. Not with Charlie. They'd had their fair share, but it took Nick time to lose his patience and respond to Charlie's anger or frustration. This time it was all the more confusing because Charlie hadn't been angry. He was fairly sure his tone had been free of spite, that there was no edge, that Nick shouldn't have suspected a double meaning or hidden barb, because there wasn't any.

Charlie had made a throwaway comment about Nick missing his local chippy when he went to uni, and Nick had set his food down with a clatter and said, “Do we have to do this again?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don't want to argue about uni.”

“I wasn't trying to argue,” Charlie protested, still trying to keep his voice gentle.

Nick visibly bit back a response. “It just usually ends up that way.”

Charlie wanted to say that wasn't his fault, but he swallowed the urge. He wasn't trying to argue; it just always seemed to be a sensitive subject. But it had already gotten as bad as it could get, when Charlie had thought for days he'd lost Nick, and they'd worked it out. They wouldn't let that happen again. Charlie, if anything, wanted to start emphasising that by making the idea feel normal. Nick would leave, and they would be apart, and Charlie was growing to accept it. But it was clear neither of them felt normal about it, still.

Nick seemed to intentionally soften, taking a moment to lower his shoulders and smooth his expression before talking to Charlie more gently. “I'd just rather not talk about it. I just want to have a chill night with takeaway and a film.”

“That's fine,” Charlie said, but the thought kept nudging at him, and he kept going. “But I don't want you to feel like you can't talk about it. I know I—I got upset and blew up at you about it before. But we worked through it. And now I'm more scared if…if we keep avoiding it, eventually you'll just want to avoid me.” Nick’s eyes flickered, and Charlie pressed on before things did stumble into argument territory. “When you're at uni you'll definitely want to talk about it then, and I don't want that to put you off talking to me. Or make you feel like you shouldn't be happy there, in case I'm upset here. I do just want you to be happy, Nick.”

It was more earnestness than Nick had been looking for or than the conversation likely invited, but it felt suddenly important to express, to have Nick know. Nick was usually the one giving Charlie these emotional reassurances. It was only fair that Charlie get to be the one throwing Nick off now and again.

But Nick wasn't thrown off, or openly besotted with Charlie's speech. He looked away entirely. “You know I'm not happy all the time?”

Charlie blinked. His heart thudded. Of course he knew that. No one was happy all the time; he knew that better than anyone. Why was that Nick’s response now, though? Was he unhappy right now? Was he saying he wasn't always happy with Charlie? “I'd think you were crazy if you were,” Charlie decided to respond, still light and reassuring and hopefully leaving room for Nick to elaborate.

“I wasn't happy when we were apart before.”

Nick looked at him again, and Charlie's stomach twisted. They hadn't had this conversation in a while. It was always there—it would never go away—but it wasn't persistent anymore. Charlie knew it linked into uni talk. He'd been waiting for it to come up, truthfully.

That didn't make him any happier about it.

“This won't be anything like that, though,” Charlie said softly.

“Won't it? I'll still only get to talk to you on the phone, unless I travel hours to see you, and neither of us can know how often we'll get to do that.”

Well. Charlie supposed he couldn't argue with that. “But it'll be different. We'll both be kept busy and you won't be stuck home, worrying about me. You'll be able to actually have fun.” Charlie would be doing his A-levels, and without Nick and Tori, and decidedly not having fun, but he would manage. He had his friends, and he had Geoff, and despite how much he'd rather not have so much of his parents, sometimes, they wouldn't let him die, so there was that.

It wouldn't do them any good to mention that now. Nick was already clearly struggling with something, and the last thing Charlie wanted was to add to it. There was no need to make Nick feel guilty. Again.

“I always worry about you,” Nick said quietly. Charlie's face dropped, and Nick shook his head. “Not because I think you can't manage or because I don't trust you or anything. It's not just because you've been ill. It's like…like how I worry about Mum.”

That piqued Charlie's curiosity, immediately distracting him from the initial zip of anger. He reached over and took Nick’s hand. “Can you explain that a bit more?”

Nick glanced at the coffee table, where their takeout lay abandoned. “The food’s gonna be cold,” he mumbled. “Sorry, I shouldn't have started this while we were eating.”

Charlie was not about to remind Nick that a moment ago, he'd been mad at Charlie for ‘starting it’. Nick already looked so downhearted; there was no need to start an entirely different argument. Which was why Charlie didn't rebuke him for using the s-word, either. The best tactic at this point was to accept the diversion. “It should still be fine. How about we finish it and then we can go up to your room?”

Nick smiled, grateful for the easy shift. Charlie pretended not to notice Nick sneaking glances at him as they ate. He managed to mechanically make his way through his meal while distracting himself thinking over what Nick said. It almost sounded like Nick was saying he didn't think he'd be happy, going to uni. But that couldn't be right. He'd been nothing but excited since deciding he wanted to go to Leeds. He'd been a bit quiet lately, but not so out of character that Charlie had been concerned. Maybe he should have been paying more attention.

Nick finished eating before him, but stayed sitting quietly, sipping at his drink. When Charlie set his own empty dish down and rose, offering Nick his hand, Nick smiled adoringly up at him. He took Charlie's hand and stood, only to immediately bundle Charlie in a hug.

Charlie huffed, half-amused and half-concerned, and tucked his arms around Nick's waist. “What's this for?” he asked quietly.

“Can't I just hug you?” Nick mumbled into his hair.

Charlie simply squeezed him in response.

After a moment, Nick continued. “I just—I really love you.”

Charlie pulled back to look at him. His concern was getting a little louder, but Nick didn't look upset. His gaze was full of its usual warmth. Charlie squeezed his sides again. “I love you too.” He leaned in to peck Nick's lips, and was granted another smile. “Let's clean this up and go cuddle.”

Nick obliged with enthusiasm. By the time they were lying in Nick’s room, Nick seemed to have shook off whatever he'd been feeling. He lay contently on Charlie's chest, and Charlie was loath to break it.

But he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd been missing something, and now that it had creeped into the light, he couldn't ignore it. Not if Nick was unhappy because of it.

“What did you mean before?” Charlie asked, because that seemed like the easiest way to bring it back up.

“Hm?” Nick sounded sleepy. Charlie stopped playing with his hair and instead let his hand lay there, cupping Nick’s head.

“When you said that you worry about me like you worry about your mum.”

There was a small pause. Charlie wasn't sure if it was because Nick was sleepy or because he was delaying responding. “Oh. Sorry, that probably doesn't make any sense.”

“Can you make it make sense? Give an example, maybe?”

Nick adjusted, curling more onto his front—and more onto Charlie—and tightening his hold around Charlie's waist before easing it again. “I dunno. It's like, how you worry about anyone you love. And it just…feels like it would be worse, further away. I know me being here wouldn't stop it, but I just hate the thought of someone I love struggling or getting sick or anything when I'm not there. It's not that I don't think you can manage without me—it's not really anything to do with you to begin with. Anything can just happen. Something could happen to Nellie or Henry, or Mum could get sick, or there could be an accident and any one of you could—”

“Nick,” Charlie cut him off. “Hey.”

He cupped Nick's cheek, urging him to look up. When Nick only pressed his face closer to Charlie's neck, Charlie shifted back and slid his body down until they were lying face to face, keeping Nick held in his hands.

Nick's eyes were vaguely misty. He blinked a few times quickly while looking at Charlie, then he focused somewhere around Charlie's chin. “Sorry. I told you it doesn't make any sense.”

Charlie shook his head. “No. Like you said, I think everyone does worry about that sort of thing.” Charlie was fairly chronically anxious, so he would know. But when those thoughts came to him, they were some of the more fleeting. Charlie was able to brush them off as irrational much more easily than the thoughts about how awful he himself was, etcetera. This didn't seem like it would be helpful to share; it sounded like more than a fleeting thought to Nick. “Do you think about that a lot, though?”

Nick shrugged as best he could while lying down.

“Is that why you've been down lately? You're thinking about…being worried a lot when you're away?” Charlie understood that, to an extent. Surprisingly, it wasn't one of the things he felt the need to have in his control, because he knew it was impossible. Like Nick said, his presence or his will wouldn't do anything to change or stop an accident or illness. Charlie had always been aware of that, and that made the lack of control easier to accept.

But he knew how terrifying that lack could feel.

But Nick said, “No. I mean, it doesn't help. It's crossed my mind a lot. But I haven't been—I'm not obsessing over it, or anything.”

Charlie's lips pursed. He couldn't help it.

“Not—” Nick’s eyes widened. “God, I didn't mean—fuck, I'm making a right mess of this.” He covered his face with a hand, tilting his chin down.

“It's fine,” Charlie said softly. “I know you didn't mean anything by it.” Gently, he curled his hand around Nick’s and brought it down, laying their interlocked fingers in the small gap between them. Nick gave him a little smile, hesitant and apologetic. Charlie smiled back, equally unsure. “But if it's not this…is there something else?”

Nick's eyes flickered away again. He twitched his shoulders in a semblance of a shrug.

Charlie slid closer to him, letting Nick's weight pull him in, the dip in the mattress widening to hold them both together. Charlie slotted a knee between Nick’s and pushed a hand back into Nick's hair. He scratched at Nick's scalp and tipped their heads together, until his forehead rested on Nick’s and Nick’s breath brushed his lips.

It took one beat, two, for Nick to settle under the embrace. His body relaxed even as his hand curled in Charlie's hoodie and his eyes closed. Charlie stayed silent. Pushing Nick wouldn't do any good, but Charlie could always offer this. Nick bloomed under affection; nothing seemed to make him more comfortable than Charlie's touch, so Charlie offered it as frequently and freely as he could. Maybe it wouldn't make Nick talk to him—he didn't want to make Nick talk to him—but hopefully it would remind him that he could, because Charlie was here and he loved him and he wasn't going anywhere, regardless of how much distance might separate them. Hopefully it would make him feel safe enough to try.

Eventually, Nick spoke in a whisper. “It's not about your illness. But I have been thinking a lot about what it was like, when you were in the clinic.”

Charlie squashed down his unease. “What about it?”

“It just…of course it sucked because I was worried about you and our contact was so limited, but it—it mostly sucked being by myself.”

It was hard to read Nick's expression, even when Charlie pulled back an inch to look. Charlie frowned. “What do you mean?”

Nick's eyes fluttered open, but he kept his gaze down to where he was fiddling with the string on Charlie's (Nick’s) hoodie. “It was the first time I'd really been without you since we met, and I'd forgotten what it was like.” He looked up at Charlie. “You know the first time Mum met you, she said I was more myself around you?”

Charlie hadn't known that. He couldn't say it surprised him, exactly—he'd known from the start that Nick was different around him—but it was nice to think Sarah had not only noticed, but approved so early on. Charlie just shook his head in response to Nick.

“I couldn't figure out what she meant,” Nick said, and it sounded like an admission. “Not because I didn't think I was different around you—I knew you were different—but because I didn't know how she could tell it was more me. I didn't even know what that was.”

This wasn't what Charlie had expected. The thought that Nick would be worried over something like this would never have even crossed Charlie's mind. He knew Nick struggled in the early stages of their relationship—who didn’t, when discovering their sexuality—but aside from that, Nick had always seemed so thoroughly Nick. He was gentle and open and silly and sporty and strong in his beliefs, even when he doubted himself. He'd said it with such confidence before. I like who I am. I like my life.

Charlie played a factor in that, surely, but his distance wouldn't make that much of a difference. Would it?

“I do,” Charlie said softly. “I know. You're wonderful, Nick.”

“I wasn't, though, was I?” Nick cut in before Charlie could give the rest of what he'd planned to say. “Before I met you, I…it was like I was just being pulled along. I was just existing. I wasn't this great, lovely person you make me out to be.”

Charlie had no idea what to think of that, never mind how to respond. All that left his mouth was a sad, wobbly, “Nick.”

He hadn't known Nick thought of himself that way. He'd known, especially at the beginning, that Nick was harder on himself than he ought to be, and it wasn't just about struggling to come out. Even since before they'd gotten together, he seemed to harbour guilt. From what Charlie could remember, Nick hadn't even been a present witness to his mistreatment—and Charlie would remember Nick, he was sure. But Nick had heard the gossip and the insults and, in his opinion, hadn't done enough to counteract it.

In Charlie's opinion, no one had, and that had never been Nick's fault or responsibility. But he understood where Nick was coming from.

That didn't change how Charlie saw him, though. It didn't change how Nick was.

“I know what you mean,” Charlie eventually continued, when Nick did nothing but breathe heavily and blink sadly at him. “But listen to what you're saying. You weren't bad then, and that wasn't you. Even your mum could see that.” Charlie poked Nick's chest. “But you've had me for over two years now, and you've done nothing but prove how great and lovely you are. You can't fake that, and it won't disappear when we're apart. I know who you are, Nick, and you're my favourite person.”

Nick's eyes grew misty, and he burrowed into Charlie's chest before he could start to cry. Charlie wrapped his arms around Nick's shoulders and head and cradled him close, pressing a kiss to his crown and stroking the hair at his nape.

“I didn't let you see how bad it was, though,” Nick whispered, his voice choppy and wet. “Char, it made me miserable. It felt like—like I was sleepwalking, and I couldn't do anything and nothing could reach me when you weren't there. And I know, I know, I was only that miserable because I was so worried but Char, you don't understand. You went there and you made things better for yourself and you've grown so, so much in the past year and a half and I just—I don't know how to do that. I don't know if I can do that on my own.”

Charlie absorbed that, then again pulled back and urged Nick to look up at him, holding Nick’s face in his hands. “I think that's exactly why you need to do it,” he said softly.

Nick sniffed, hard, but didn't protest.

“And you won't be on your own,” Charlie continued. “We might not be ten minutes from each other, but that doesn't mean I won't be there for you. I'd never leave you on your own, Nick. Neither will Tara and Darcy, or any of our other friends.”

“You can't be sure of that, though.”

“I know I can't promise you things won't change. But I'm not going anywhere,” Charlie enunciated each word, leaning closer until they were nose to nose. “You at least have to believe that.”

Nick's eyes flit back and forth between Charlie's. He seemed to be battling with what he wanted to say. Eventually he came out with, “I don't want to become someone you don't like.”

Charlie's heart twisted, but alongside it was a twinge of relief. They were getting to the root of the problem, and it was much more manageable than Charlie had thought. Charlie had enough experience with this kind of self doubt to know it could be worked through, especially with the right support, and Charlie would do everything in his power to provide that.

“I'm fairly sure that's impossible,” Charlie said. “But do you want to tell me how you think that could happen?”

Nick closed his eyes again, and his shoulders shifted in another weak shrug. “I don't know. Look at what's happening right now. It's selfish, I don't deserve you comforting me when I'm the one who's leaving and you should—”

Charlie cut him off by enveloping him in another hug with a loud shush. It felt like they'd been hugging for an hour by now, and still every time Nick wrapped around him it seemed tighter, more desperate. Charlie didn't know if he was failing that miserably at easing Nick's concerns or if this was Nick's natural need for touch.

“You're allowed to ask for help, Nick.” Charlie spoke into Nick's hair. “I never want you to pretend you're not upset because you think I might be. Okay? Please.”

Nick murmured something like an apology, and Charlie shushed him again. “I don't want how we are to change,” Nick mumbled. “If the few times we get to see each other it starts to just feel awkward or sad and it'll be just like when Dad—”

Nick cut himself off abruptly, but Charlie had heard it. And here, he realised, was the root. He mentally kicked himself. He should have seen that connection a mile away.

They didn't talk about it often. Nick had ranted to Charlie about his dad a few times, after they'd met up in Paris and their debacle of a dinner and when he failed to show up for holidays as promised, though Nick always said it was expected. Charlie knew his feelings about his father were complicated, and that anger and disappointment held a lot of that space, but he'd always thought it best to let Nick bring it up on his own terms. Unless he was mentioned, Charlie avoided asking, and perhaps that had been a mistake.

He hugged Nick tighter, more desperately, to give himself time to work out what to say.

He settled on an apology. “I'm sorry, Nick. I should have known what this was about.”

Nick's reply came slow, and his voice was thick. “I don't even think I knew.” He took a heaving breath. “God, that's pathetic.”

“No,” Charlie argued immediately. “It's not. You're not. It makes perfect sense, Nick.”

Nick gave a wobbly laugh. “D'you think you can explain it to me then?”

Charlie thought he probably could if he tried, but he wasn't sure it was his place. For a while he just held Nick in silence, letting them both think it over. Periodically, he pressed a kiss to whatever part of Nick he could reach, or rubbed up and down his back, or scratched gently at his head. Anything to remind Nick he was there and he understood and he loved him.

Eventually, Charlie got the nerve to ask, “Do you think you have, like, separation anxiety?”

Nick took a moment, Charlie hoped to consider this and not because he was upset. “Like what some kids have when they start school and stuff?”

“Yeah. But I don't think it's just kids,” Charlie added quickly. “There was this girl at the clinic with me. The main thing she struggled with was being apart from her parents at the start. It wasn't why she was there, but it was part of it. She told me she even had a few panic attacks about it. She lost one of her grandparents, when she was really young. Then she had this intense fear of her parents dying every time they were away from her. It never completely left her. She just got better at managing it.”

Nick was quiet for so long Charlie thought he'd gone too far and Nick wasn't going to respond anymore. When he did, it was a small, quiet, “Oh.”

Charlie steeled himself. “So it makes sense. If…your dad leaving and things changing so much between you. If that was something that really affected you, it makes sense you'd worry about other people you love leaving.”

“It isn't…you don't think that's silly, or childish?”

Charlie shook his head adamantly, despite the fact Nick was still pressed against him and wouldn't see the gesture. Charlie knew he would feel it, but he still said, “No, Nick. It's not silly at all. And like you said, everyone worries about the people they love. People only think this is childish because children haven't learned how to hide it, so it's more obvious in them.”

Nick absorbed this. Charlie hated not being able to see his face, but he didn't want to push things. He wanted to provide Nick with comfort in the form Nick was comfortable with. It helped that he could hear and feel Nick's breaths, and could tell that they'd steadied. It wasn't a simple thing to take in, but it had seemed to almost settle Nick, more than panic him.

“Honestly,” Nick murmured, “I think me having some kind of anxiety does make sense. And this…fits.”

Charlie squeezed Nick tight and ignored the ache that caused in him. “You don't have to figure it out or understand it right now. I could be completely wrong. But whatever it is, we can look into it together. If you want?”

Nick smushed his face to Charlie's neck. “I really love you.”

Charlie smiled. “I really love you too.”

Nick was the one to pull back this time. His eyes were a little red, and there was a dry tear-track down one cheek, but the mist over his expression had cleared. If not happy, he seemed more at ease now. “I think it would help,” he said. “To look into something. Maybe if I understand better it won't…I can stop it from bothering me so much.”

Charlie tried to tamp down his pride, but he was sure it shone through. “I think so.” He nudged Nick's nose with his own, uncaring it was cold and damp. “Whatever you need, I'll be here.”

Nick looked at him for a long moment, less in doubt, Charlie thought, and more just to look. To remind himself this was real and true, at least for now. Slowly, he smiled.

“Yeah,” Nick said. “I know.”

#heartstopper #narlie #nick x charlie #heartstopper fic #nick nelson #charlie spring #prompts #my fics

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drunk-on-dk · 9 months ago

Note

About Cheol / Jeonghan! If it’s okay to send nsfw thoughts, I’ve just been thinking really hard about being a major brat to Cheol, teasing him and talking back, and him finally breaking and being like “You better watch it or I’ll fuck the attitude out of you” and it has me so 🥴 like please yes 🥺

hello lovely anon! YESSSSS pls I am always open to nsfw thoughts, and I LOVE this thought so much. I had so much fun writing this drabble, I really hope you enjoy this!!

Tags/genre: Smut (minors do not interact, 18+ ONLY), pure filth!, angsty? (not really, but he likes to rile you up and vice versa), established relationship, female!reader (girlfriend used as a term, she/her pronouns) c/w: dom!Seungcheol, switch!reader, reader is brat ofc, Seungcheol is a bit possessive and rough, a hint of dumbification, thigh fucking, unprotected sex (stay safe besties!), pet names (fem receiving): baby, good girl

“It’s embarrassing, Seungcheol,” you groan, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you march ahead of your boyfriend into the apartment. Regardless of his close proximity, you attempt to slam the door behind you, admittedly a bit out of character for you, but you were fed up with his behavior tonight.

Seungcheol isn’t fazed, his firm palm meets the cool wood of the door before you can shut him out, allowing him to slip in behind you. Biting his tongue, he observes as you pry your heels off, swallowing a groan when your dress rides a bit higher up your thighs.

With a huff, you turn to face Seungcheol, discontented to find him standing cooly in your entry way, hands shoved in his pockets and looking smug as ever. The dark look in his eyes poses a challenge, and you know your own orbs reflect the same look.

In fact, this whole night was a challenge for him. A challenge to see just how worked up he could get you until you broke. His sweet, little girlfriend who didn’t have an angry bone in her body. Except for when he gets you riled up, which he is finding isn’t that hard to do with a little teasing.

“Humor me, baby,” Seungcheol chortles, a distinct dryness in comparison to his usual laugh that makes you feel even more enraged. However, there is a playful lilt to his voice. “What was so embarrassing?”

“Don’t mock me,” you bite, rolling your eyes yet again and wandering to the kitchen, filling up a cup of water and chugging it in an attempt to cool down. Seungcheol follows closely behind, the amused smirk on his face only making your blood boil again.

The island counter is the only thing that keeps the distance between you and Seungcheol. Both of your hands are splayed out on the marble, using the surface as a means to support yourself as you come face to face with the man that has riled you up all night.

Your chest rises and falls with each heavy breath, analyzing your boyfriend as he mirrors you, his eyes leisurely examining your form until they land on the valley between your breasts.

“How fucking horny are you that we had to leave early from party with all your friends?”

Seungcheol sucks in a breath, loving the way your crude words make his dick stir in the confines of his pants. Even though he’s getting exactly what he wished for, he can’t help but be slightly annoyed by how bratty you’ve been since you’ve left the party. Not after you teased him all night with your fleeting touches and flirty eyes.

“How fucking horny are you that you kept eye fucking me in front of my friends?” He bites back, and you let out a faux scandalized gasp. Still, you don’t break eye contact with him as you carefully think of your next words. “Isn’t that what you like though, Cheollie?” You coo unsympathetically at your characteristically possessive boyfriend. Your tone sends an annoyed shiver through Seungcheol’s spine, but it goes straight to his dick. “So fucking needy, I can’t even spend five minutes talking with Wonwoo. Can’t even laugh at Jeonghan’s jokes without your hand wandering down to my ass.”

Seungcheol has been eerily smug since you got home, but this makes him growl, ears turning red as he threatens, “you better watch your mouth, baby, or I’ll fuck the attitude right out of you.”

“Know what’s embarrassing?” You challenge, seeing just how far you can push him until he gives you exactly what you want. Two can play at this game, and you’ve seen through his antics all night. “How you always have to make a scene to let everyone know you’re the one who gets to fuck me. Don’t worry, I plan on making sure you fuck me. Don’t act like I won’t get exactly what I want. ”

In record speed, Seungcheol is rounding the corner of the island, rough hands on your lower back as he bends you over the counter. One hand circles the base of your neck, keeping your cheek pressed against the countertop as Seungcheol presses the bulge in his pants directly between the backs of your thighs.

“Such a brat,” Seungcheol seethes, hot breath against your neck as he leans over you, listening for your little whimpers at his sudden display of strength. “What makes you think I’ll fuck you now?”

“As if you could resist,” you mutter, voice strained when Seungcheol’s hand massages the plush of your ass and his hips rut into yours. You do your best to roll your hips back towards his for some relief, but the force of his body keeps you against the counter.

“Seems like I have more self control than you do,” he quips, hand releasing the back of your neck when you attempt to grab onto him from behind, only for him to catch your hands and bring them back to the countertop. “If you keep your hands on this counter like a good girl, I’ll think about fucking you.”

You whine, abiding to this one command because you do want to be fucked tonight. Your clammy hands stay glued to the marble, the cold surface stinging your sensitive skin and heating beneath you.

“Good girl,” Seungcheol hums and you bite your bottom lip in an attempt to keep your mouth shut. His hands begin to work at your dress, lifting the bottom hem until it gathers at your waist, exposing your entire ass to your boyfriend, your panty-clad cunt on display for Seungcheol’s viewing pleasure only.

It’s incriminating how slick your thighs are near your core, panties dampened, the AC in your apartment making you shudder as you’re exposed, and it pulls an incredulous laugh from his chest. He coos, “you’re soaked, your panties are absolutely ruined.”

His fingers skim over your folds, the ghost of his fingertips leaving a warm streak on your panties and you muffle a moan.

“Don’t be so quiet, baby,” Seungcheol demands, pointer and middle fingers pressing firmly against your clit, evoking a lewd moan from the delicious pressure. “Good. Fucking. Girl.” Seungcheol’s fingers circle your throbbing nub harder with each word, content with your noises and rewarding you with more pressure.

It’s embarrassing when your thighs begin to shake, the altercation tonight with Seungcheol was enough to turn you on, but now that you have his hands right where you need him, you orgasm unexpectedly fast as he continues to stimulate your clit. Your walls clamp around nothing as the explosion of pleasure wracks your body, gushing into your panties and a high-pitched moan escapes you.

“Holy shit,” Seungcheol’s laugh is patronizing, knowing exactly what just happened, but he continues to press against your clit, the circles sending aftershock waves of pleasure through you. “You’ve got to be kidding me, baby.”

Your knuckles and fingertips are practically white from trying to grip the flat counter, and you finally lose control of your hands, darting back to grab at Seungcheol’s wrist, trying to keep him from overstimulating you.

This was obviously not the right move on your end, earning another strike from Seungcheol as he grabs your wrists, this time keeping them pinned to the counter.

“What did I fucking say?” Seungcheol scolds, his voice venomous as he moves both wrists to one hand, pressing you uncomfortably against the counter and your hips dig into the corner, but the pain oddly brings pleasure. You can hear his other hand begin to work at his belt, eliciting a cry from you in anticipation, but you know it won’t be good for you, not when you’ve disobeyed him yet again.

“My hands,” you whimper, pussy throbbing in need when you feel Seungcheol’s heavy cock against your thighs, his pre-cum leaving a warm, sticky spot on the back of your thighs. “I’ll keep them against the counter. I’m sorry, Cheollie.”

You know sorry isn’t enough, not when the tip of his length is prodding between your legs, lubricated by the slick that couldn’t even be contained by your panties, and you already have an idea of what your punishment will be.

“Does my brat need dick that bad?” he grunts, his length fucking between the plush of your thighs and you ache for him, crying out apologies against the counter.

It’s maddening feeling the drag of his cock between your thighs so close to your core, his brooding tip skimming your clit with each thrust. His grunts of satisfaction are enough to make you feel desperate, absolutely dumb for cock as he teases you with what you want the most.

“Who’s needy now?” He groans when you start begging, shuddering when you flex your muscles around his cock.

“Still y-you,” you cry out, barely stuttering the words out, still attempting to challenge your boyfriend. “Resorting to fucking my thighs when you could be fucking my pussy.”

“Fuck, who knew you could be so damn bratty,” Seungcheol grits, not exactly pleased with your response, but it’s exactly what he needs to hear to fuck you into oblivion. He’s finally releasing your hands, yanking your panties down your legs before pulling you upright, and turning you around to face him. He grips your chin between his fingers, a stormy look in his eyes, but you can tell he’s absolutely infatuated with you.

You look so messy, teary-eyed as you stare into his dark orbs, and soon he’s smashing his lips against yours. He’s devouring you like a man starved, tongue clashing with yours and soon he’s grabbing you by the thighs, lifting you up before placing you on the counter. He’s perfectly slotted between you, hands massaging at your thighs as yours roam over his entire body, landing in his dark locks and pulling at the hair, eliciting a groan from him.

Seungcheol’s cock is lined up perfectly with your inviting hole, but he has yet to give you what you want, too lost in kissing you. You pull away, a pathetic whine reminding him of what he promised, “fuck me stupid, Cheol.”

Without warning, Seungcheol sheathes his entire length inside of you, pulling a loud cry from you. His hands grip tightly at your ass, keeping you pressed against him as he fills you completely.

Immediately, you’re like putty in his hands, head lolling back at the sudden pleasure of feeling him so deep inside of you. There is no hesitation in his movements, Seungcheol barely gives you time to adjust, but he’s not worried when your body takes him this easily, like you’re made perfectly for him.

His plump lips are on your neck, leaving hot trails of saliva as he mercilessly thrusts his cock between your gummy walls, his arms the only thing keeping you sitting upright and pressed against his body. He feels too good, all encompassing as he repeatedly hits the sweet spot deep inside of you.

You’re blabbering words of nothing, apologizing for being such a brat, and Seungcheol’s breathing gets heavier with every word that tumbles past your lips. His dick is throbbing inside of you as your walls grip his length, rutting into you with a new fervor as your words become incoherent, fingernails digging into his shoulders as you clamp around him.

It feels too fucking good for him, loving the way you give in to him, knowing you are approaching your high soon enough and his thumb finds it way to your clit, pulling his favorite cry of pleasure from you yet again.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans, staring down at the space between your two bodies, right where his cock enters you with each lewd sound, and where his thumb works aggressively against your clit. “So fucking pretty, my good girl.”

“Please,” you mewl, desperate to cum, but squeezing your muscles to prevent yourself from releasing unexpectedly again.

“No more attitude, baby,” his voice is horse, and you know he’s nearing his high soon as well.

“No more,” you parrot, lips attaching to his jaw as you near the brink of pleasure, desperate for your release.

“I love you so damn much,” he groans, nose nudging yours and chasing your lips. He fills you so well with each thrust, your walls are throbbing uncontrollably, his words only egging you on. “Drive me so fucking crazy,” he pants between kisses, finally giving in to you. “Go on, baby, finish for me.”

Just like that, the flood gates are released and you’re washed over with immense pleasure, walls spasming around Seungcheol’s cock as he follows suit, filling your pussy with his hot cum and groaning into your shoulder.

“Love you too, Cheol,” your voice is weak as he slowly fucks his cum between your folds, his softening cock pulling out and stepping back to look at the damage done. He looks divine, absolutely fucked out with flushed cheeks and messy hair, and you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

That’s until Seungcheol is helping you clean up, soothing the bruises on your hips left from the counter, and pulling you onto the couch for a late night movie.

“Aren’t you glad we left the party early?” Seungcheol’s words pull a snort from your lips, earning an incredulous look from you.

“You know what,” you hum, wary of his cheeky comment. “I’m starting to think you like it when I give you an attitude.”

Seungcheol’s smug smile and silence says enough.

#love letters 💌#seungcheol smut #svthub #svt smut #scoups smut #choi seungcheol smut #seventeen smut #thank you anon 💌#sorry this took me a bit long to respond to #i have a few others i'd like to get to as well

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i-like-forcefem · 3 months ago

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I wish you could come to my house, turn me into a woman, and then brainwash my family into thinking I was one my whole life.

I'd love nothing more myself cute! Turning you into a good little girl and then convincing everyone else that no you've always worn a maid dress to school? What are they talking about? No there's nothing wrong here, of course she's clinging to my arms at all times and spends ever other night at my place, it's been like this for years?

And yeah of course her wardrobe only has cute skirts and dresses, she's always dressed like this? Of course she has a lot of makeup and knows how to use it? Don't you remember back when she was little and she tried it on for the first time, that was such a mess wasn't it! You're the one who told me that story! But luckily my little maid managed to get a lot better at it after we met, and we've been close ever since haven't we?

And of course I'll make my little maid forget about her troubles from before we met as well, just focus on me now dear, that's all that matters

#I'd love to change your life so you're the girl you always have been #.#gentle #-ish?#maybe even #force #this system is odd x3 #forcefem #i-like-talking #asks open!#..#I responded to a lot of asks lately! But this is the last of em!#Oh and anon sorry if I took this in a direction you'd rather not have had it taken!#I had this buzzing around my mind for a little bit #And you gave me the perfect outlet!!!#Sorry if it made you uncomfy!!!#And if it didn't then I know you'll make a great maid one day!

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hyolks · 2 months ago

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(TW: BODY/ORGANS/NEEDLES!!)

Yo! So I was scrolling down your posts and found the one about Al’s ever-increasing automail body and how you are unsure how many of his organs could be replaced and… I have personal experience with that! What a lovely thing, to go through organ failure and have it be worth it if I can pass on that experience for the sake of ✨semi-realism-maybe-if-you-squint✨

My pancreas failed. Entirely. I have to manually give myself insulin every time I eat, and do calculations for it all; I can eat pretty much anything, but it comes at a price. Something something “equivalent exchange” one might even say.

But anyway, I basically have a mechanical pancreas with a remote control! I inject a 7 day supply of insulin into it with a syringe, and I tell it how much and how frequently to inject manually. It can inject into any spot on the body with a thick enough fat layer, usually stomach, thighs, the flabby parts of your upper arm, etc… note: I was 90lbs when I first went into organ failure, you do not have to be any particular body type/size for this to work.

It’s a very simple concept for the machine, and very simple/limited commands. You could even combine the controller with it and make it so there’s a switch/buttons directly on the injection site that have pre-determined doses.

Insulin has to be kept temperature controlled when in storage too, so that’s a cool thing you could mess around with if he has to keep more than a week supply on him. (This can honestly also just be ignored if it’s too complicated ‘^-^)

Insulin is a hormone, basically a command to tell your body to do something. So this can be applied to certain parts of the brain as well!

I don’t know if this’ll help, or if you’ve already found other inspirations that conflict with it, I just thought “hey, this Al makes me feel a little less alone in the world, if I can project a piece of me onto him I’d be really happy”.

Sorry if that’s presumptuous or weird of me to do >~<

OH MY GOSH DW DW THANK YOU SO MUH FOR SENDING THIS!!!! I SINCERELY APPRECIATE IT !!! i know its very strange to say but i love reading stuff like this and this was truly incredible to receive :")

medication/suppliments 1000% slipped my mind like i cant even BELIEVE it how much i forgot to consider it. i knew that going through an organ transplant also entailed needing to take medication to keep your body from rejecting it, but thats about where i stop with knowledge about regarding organ replacements,, but that is so interesting in your case with how much control and calculation is needed?? I also never thought about how truly indepth/technical mechanical organs would need to be!! especially since our organs just casually do the things they do and having a machine mimic it is more than just hitting "go" ...!! if you dont mind me asking how does it like stay powered, i guess ? :O

THE PRESSURE THAT WOULD BE ADDED IF THEY HAD TIME CONSTRAINTS BC OF MEDICATION..... OOOOOO.... especially with the temperature control.... them traveling through the desert would be so much more perilous !! I really will haveta figure out what he would be taking, if it were insulin or some almagomation (that included insulin of course) that could provide him the nutrients he would be missing out on because his lack of ability to eat/digest food...?

the handwavy science of canon that allows automail to work via nerve connections for motor control definitely like. eases the load a bit? although most of these organs require more function than just motor control... hmmm... REGARDLESS, thank u so mcuh for bringing up manually providing the body with hormones (and additionally nutrients), because no matter how quote unquote advanced the automail is, it wouldnt be able to actually produce the things he needs... process it, maybe? sure? but cannot produce it...!!

you're genuinely so sweet!!! thank you SO SO SO much for sending this in !! it really means so much to me that you can relate to this Al :")!! even though im probably trying to get tooo realistic with this portrayal (given the fact that al is mostly metal OTL) i dont want to like... not consider the things he would have to go through ? i guess? i cant quite figure out the words for what i want to say, but nonetheless!! <33333 thank you!!!!!

#SORRY THIS TOOK A BIT TO RESPOND TO!!! i had started writing out a response but then my laptop died and deleted the whole message OTL #im genuinely so obsessed with the connection to equivalent exchange you mentioned that is golden #i truly need to get back into this au (NEVER FORGOTTEN SHES JUST RESTING ON THE SIDELINE!!) bc i love love love thinking all of this throug #not me wishing i went to school for bio/med to utilize the knowledge for this au....!!!#wastelands au

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aurorangen · 17 days ago

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🎅✨🌟 Wishing you all the joy and magic of the season! You make this community feel like home, and I’m so grateful for you. Merry Christmas! 🌟✨🎅

✨🎄To all my beautiful friends @perolesims @estah @simvanie @thebramblewood @changingplumbob @simscici @igglemouse @simmora @oasivy @matchalovertrait @caramellles @simplypxels @sharona-sims @evenifitshandcuffed @jessicastinks and to all my lovely mutuals and followers, thank you so much for making 2024 such an enjoyable year for me! I wish you all the very best for Christmas and I hope you have a good rest during the holidays 🎄✨

#sorry it took a while to respond!! tysm for sending this to me <3 #i am a bit busy again during this time of the year but im looking forward to the next few days break with my family #if you dont hear from me merry christmas and happy new year ❤️#(also ive got so many exciting things planned when posts resume! ill finish off 3 tomarang posts then its 👀👀👀)

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victorluvsalice · 10 months ago

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I did indeed XD And had a lot of fun doing so – one of my favorite NaNoWriMo projects, back when I participated in that!

Hehehe, I see – and yeah, I like those too, as you probably guessed by the whole “Secundus” thing. XD One of my new projects, “Valicer In The Dark,” is kinda turning into one of those too, honestly – I mean, it was already pretty clusterfucky, given that I’m throwing characters from the American McGee’s Alice games and Corpse Bride into the setting of an RPG I’ve grown to love, Blades In The Dark – along with a bunch of OCs based off the coasters at the Alton Towers theme park, because I fell in love with their The Smiler coaster at the end of 2021. And, more importantly, Victor fell in love with them, so… XD But yeah, now I’m also adding in characters from Fallout 4, the Sims series, and of course Doc and Marty from BTTF. It’s going to be a very interesting world once I’m done with it.

That particular clusterfuck AU with all the world chunks thrown into a new dimension DOES sound hella complicated O.O I don’t blame you for wanting to start by drawing the map – it sounds like trying to figure out where everything is, how it all fits together, and what areas have which characters you’ll be focusing on is exactly where you want to begin! There’s a fuckton happening right from the word “go” and – yeah, I sympathize with everyone running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Except, apparently, the – inklings? *blinks* Okay, I know they’re from Splatoon, even if I don’t play that particular game, but – that was a crossover that I was not expecting. Then again, I don’t know what I’m expecting from this idea. Other than delightful, delightful chaos as various worlds and cultures and time periods collide. XD

Ooooh, interesting, interesting – I am intrigued by this. And awww, that’s – well, I’m glad she won’t be alone, but poor Sunny, sounds like he’s having it rough too. :( (And yeah, of course – Alice wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest to learn that his Headspace is different from her Wonderland. Though it would be neat if they could visit each other’s spaces and find out how they work.)

LOL, yeah, I’m not surprised they’re only hinted at at the beginning – as you said, everyone has a lot more important things to worry about than romance! Like figuring out what the hell all this new technology is and all that. XD The culture shock will be amazing! Once they’re over THAT, then we can have shipping goodness.

I join them in this ???? XD I mean, does getting randomly thrown around in time and space happen to her a lot, then? Sounds like a rough way to live...though she does seem to be magic, so is this a spell gone wrong, or… ? Questions, I have them.

I mean, this is fair – she is stuck in a time period where sanitation isn’t the best, street food should probably not be trusted, and arsenic was thought to be relatively harmless if you used it as a dye. (And I seee – LOL, well, if it’s who I think it is, he’d be happy to help her out with the local magic so she can feed herself, sure!) And LOL, hey, I would be panicking internally too! She is allowed to panic over this weird-ass situation. XD

Huh, I see… Well, to be fair, Alice can be pretty prickly too when you first meet her. I think it’s kind of a defense mechanism for her, given she’s been surrounded by such horrible, shitty people for so long. Once she realizes that Manami is genuinely a nice person, she’ll be willing to show a softer side for sure! You just need to get over that initial hurdle...and LOL, yeah, she and Victor would NOT know what to make of “floor time.” Though Alice might join her just for the hell of it. “I mean, it’s no worse than any other therapy I’ve tried.” XD

*snrrk* Yeah, that just about sums it up between Manami and Victor, huh? Victor is not used to people being all :D at him – especially not women, and especially not unmarried, unchaperoned women. Like, sure, that KIND of happened with Victoria, but – we see how that turned out for him. He might be a little intimidated by her at first as he tries to get his bearings – but give him some time and he’ll finally relax!

Oh, is she? Well, at least she’s well-prepared for dealing with Victor, then. XD (And awwww, I see, that’s cute. :) Can’t split up the soulmates! And I know very well that Victor and Alice are open to the poly, though given the time period, there might be some anxious “hang on a second, a multi-person relationship? Is this really allowed?” stuff going on first with them. But yeah, get past that, and Manami and her guy can join the Greater Valicer Polycule, no problem. :p

Oooh, nice! Something for her and Victor to bond over – well, once he stops being somewhat overwhelmed by her enthusiasm. XD But he’d like having another pianist to talk to. :D And I believe Alice would be open to learning, though she probably wouldn’t get too far while she’s still suffering from the worst of her Wonderland hallucinations. Too many mental distractions for the lessons to stick!

Speaking of the hallucinations, Cheshire’s reaction to that would be “well, if that isn’t proof you can’t actually see us” (given he’s basically just skin and bones, no fur to be found XD). But Alice would not mind having someone else help her tell off the Wonderlanders when they start bothering her! And Victor would appreciate someone else doing it as well, because sometimes he feels weird, talking to nothing. XD I also love the idea of Manami playing that song and talking about Stella the minute Bumby starts telling Victor the Land of the Dead doesn’t exist – anything to annoy the shit out of that asshole. XD (And yeah, I bet he gets mad when Manami starts actually helping them with their problems – he doesn’t actually WANT them to get better, he wants to wipe their brains so he can use them for his own ends. Because he’s a monster and fully deserved being shoved in front of that damn train. >( )

*snrrk* Because you’re the best option they’ve got for help right now, Manami! XD Though Doc probably understands the difference, but still. And yeah, that’ll be fun, I’m sure. XD Though hopefully once she realizes they DO come from a different timeline, she can relax about potential “spoilers,” because who knows how things went in the BTTF universe compared to her own? (I mean, we already know they got a much different 2015…)

*snrrrk* Yeah, that’s a great example of different-timeline culture clash there. And Marty’s just like “…” while Doc is super intrigued by this small portable computer that’s so different from all the ones he’s seen, even in the future – why, it doesn’t even come with a fax machine! XD

Venting your frustrations by forcing them on your OC, eh? I know a bit about how that goes XD Marty is like “you know, we’re not the ones who brought you here – I’m, like, 95% sure. Right Doc?” XD You’ll survive, Manami!

It’s fine, I can get really rambly when the mood strikes me too. XD But it sounds like you’ve had a lot of fun with these ideas already! Wish you all the best getting them properly off the ground!

Helo yes, I just want to say that I found your Forgotten Vows verse again, and also your Secundus verse, because of @thesatiricaldemon 's "Beneath A Broken Sky" and all I have to say is:

... how dare you both, now I have two AU fic ideas that sprouted from them because of inspiration! [Positive] (Actually three, but that one is just an afterthought)

*snrrrk* How very dare we XD But hey, I'm glad that both my fics and SatiricalDemon's have been inspiring to you! Love to know more about what percolating in your head! (And hey, don't dismiss that "afterthought" idea -- my ORIGINAL idea for an Alice: Madness Returns / Corpse Bride crossover after the release of the former was for them to meet after Alice killed Dr. Bumby and Victor had gone through both the "corpse bride" incident and its aftermath, but while I was sorting out that, I had a stray thought of "but what if Victor's parents hadn't believed him and instead sent him to Dr. Bumby to force him to forget the whole thing...and we see where THAT ended up. XD)

#magicalcaffeine #magical-caffeine #ask #finding you Valice AUs #sorry it took me a bit to respond to you!#just my Sunday was busier than normal #and I had to take a minute to get my thoughts organized here #wanted to make sure I responded to everything properly!#and LOL yeah I see xD #gotta stay on brand of course!

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