#they didn't have to make him so pretty but they did

[cherrygirlfriend]

touchy subject II pairing: reader x exfiancé!rafe synopsis: seeing your ex-fiancé after four years. warnings: heavy angst. some fluff. miscarriage/stillbirth. vehicular accident. wc: 2k part 2 of touchy subject. part 3 / the final part coming soon. click here for part 1

you could feel your heartbeat in your throat, raw with unshed tears, the vision of your ex-fiancé with another woman blurred by nothing but the tears brimming at the edges of your vision, so different from the ones that ran down your cheeks the day you'd said yes to him.

"of course i'll marry you." you pulled rafe to stand up, your arms around him before you could even think about what you were doing, rafe letting out a sigh of relief. "wait, wait, i gotta ask you something." you rushed out, pulling away from the hug, his hands still staying on your waist.

"what is it?"

"is this just because i'm pregnant?" you ask, rafe's brows furrowing in confusion, yet you left him no time to respond, "it's just- i want to marry you, but i don't want you to feel like you have to ask me just because i'm pregnant, and if you want to wait until the baby's-"

you could feel how tired rafe was getting of your rant by the intensity of his lips on yours, using it to interrupt you, his fingers sliding under your jaw to help hold it up to meet his; and just like always, he didn't need to say one word for you to understand what he was communicating to you.

the moment his eyes found yours, it felt as if all the air was punched out of your lungs, like the entire planet just stopped spinning. it didn't matter that the jewelry store's display was separating you; it felt like the first time he looked into your eyes and told you he loved you.

you wanted to run, to make sure you wouldn't have to face him, to have to hear what his voice sounded when you'd already managed to forget how it was to hear it in person, but it was like your feet had rooted to the ground within the few seconds that he spotted you.

and you begged to whatever entity that once you saw him approach the exit to the jewelry store, the other woman long forgotten, that your fight-or-flight instinct would kick in, but luck was never really on your side, because there he stood, his face the same as the last time you saw him, with a few lines added here and there, and a part of you couldn't help but ache at the thought of having missed the moment they appeared.

you looked up at him, into the same eyes you'd once imagined your daughter would have, the thought making the bout of nausea in your throat even worse. a part of you wanted to congratulate him, to tell you that you were happy for him, but it felt like the words were choking you, like they were burning in your throat. but the choice to even say something was taken from you, when you heard the bell above the door to the jewelry store let out a cheery ring.

"rafe…?" the red-haired woman called out, her brows furrowed in question, and the moment your ex turned around to face her, you took the opportunity to turn the other way, begging that your feet would take you away before you threw up on the spot.

"i saw him yesterday."

"it was the first time you saw him in person since you left, correct?"

"yes. i sometimes checked up on his social media, but seeing him like this... so close to me i could touch him... it was pretty jarring. it felt like no time had passed, but also like i hadn't seen him in decades."

"and how did he look?"

"handsome." you chuckled softly, your hand going to fiddle with the locket around your neck, sliding it up and down the golden chain, avoiding looking at the zoom meeting displayed on the laptop screen. "he looked just like he looked with me. he looked happy."

"happy anniversary, rafe." you smiled softly as you pushed the gift box at him, your fiancé letting out a small tut.

"you know you didn't have to get me anything, right? you're enough for me already. both of you are."

"yeah, yeah, stop being all cheesy and chivalrous and open it already." you urged, watching as he lifted the lid of the gift box, his eyes widening as he looked down at the present, but before he could say anything, you stopped him, "look at the back of it!"

rafe rolled his eyes, picking up the steel watch from the box, and you could see his gaze soften the moment his eyes spotted the engraving on the back of the watch, the edges of his lips almost automatically twisting up at the words 'evelyn cameron'.

"is it bad that it makes me feel bitter?" you asked, chewing at the inside of your cheek, "that it's been four years, and i haven't been able to move on, but he has? that he's managed to be happy, but i haven't? that i don't know if i ever will?"

"the loss of a child..."

you couldn't help but tune out the words of your therapist like they were nothing but background noise, not knowing if it would be worse if she tried justifying your anger or if she tried to get you to understand why rafe had managed to move on, your eyes instead focusing on the heart-shaped locket you'd opened, the faces of the couple staring right at you.

"rafe, where are we?" you laughed softly, your feet hurting from the heels you were starting to regret wearing, the blonde having parked his car in front of a random house.

"you didn't think i wouldn't get you an anniversary present, did you?" when you didn't immediately answer, he pressed his hand to his chest in mock offense, shaking his head, "come on. lemme show you."

the two of you got out of the car, your heels clacking against the stone pathway leading to the house, rafe's muscular arm keeping you close to him, helping you walk.

when you got to the door, he let go of you, and you watched as he took out a set of keys without saying anything, twisting them in the lock and pushing open the door, looking to you enthusiastically, extending his hand to you.

the moment you stepped over the threshold, you were enveloped by warmth, rafe flicking on the light next to the entryway before turning to you as your eyes got used to the light, sliding his hands onto your waist, pulling you as close to him as the growing child allowed.

you looked into his eyes, yours filled with confusion while his were filled with nothing but sincerity, his thumb stroking your waist. "rafe, what's this?"

"it's our home." he said, bringing his hand to your bump, "i know it's not much, but it's got enough room for our family."

"rafe, this is-"

"this is my anniversary present for you. i won't take 'no' for an answer." he brushed a strand of hair away from your cheek, tugging it behind your ear, "i want us to build our own home. our own life."

you kicked the radiator in frustration; it seemed like no matter what, the place wouldn't warm up. you'd called a maintenance guy, but they told you that it'd take at least a week for them to get someone there, and in the middle of winter, your only option was to light the fireplace in the middle of the living room while you waited for your mom to arrive with a portable radiator she told you she'd borrow you.

you sat in front of the blazing fire, your fingers fiddling with the frayed edges of the worn-out ultrasound picture you'd looked at a million times, your voice coming out weak from the sobs you were holding in your throat.

"hi, evie." you said softly, looking to the small urn next to you, engraved with the name of your daughter as well as today's date, only five years before. "happy... happy birthday."

"hi, baby." rafe's voice called out from the speakerphone of your car, the windshield wipers wiping away some of the rain falling down on you as you drove through the dark streets lit only by the yellow streetlights above, "are you almost home?"

"i am." you chuckled softly, "seeing my mom was so nice, even though she kept being all cheesy about how big i'd gotten. i swear, she almost cried."

"come on, she's gonna meet her grandkid in a month, of course she's gonna be all cheesy. if my dad had a paternal bone in his body, i'm sure he'd be ecstatic."

"yeah, well, you're not the one whose stomach is constantly getting pawed by people." you let out a snort, looking out into the road, "listen, i'm gonna drop by the store cause little evie's craving chocolate, do we need anything?"

"nah, just need you two home as soon as possible."

"aye aye, captain. see you soon, baby." you laughed, hearing the noise that signaled that the call had been ended, eager to get home and off your feet.

but before you could even realize what was happening, you were faced with a second pair of headlights that was approaching you, another car lit up by your own yellow headlights. and you swerved.

maybe it's a part of the so-called mother's instinct to blame ourselves when something happens to our child. no matter how many people told you that it wasn't your fault, that there was nothing you could've done, every bone, every cell in your body couldn't help but beat yourself up over what happened.

rafe ran down the hospital hallway, the smell of disinfectant mixed with the feeling of his heartbeat in his ears making him feel nauseous, the man sure that it was beating 200/bpm, but finally, when he reached the hospital room the reception had guided him to, a sense of relief took over him.

a nurse walked out of the room, startled by the man, her eyes widening at the obvious sense of urgency he was displaying, "can i help you?" she asked.

"no, no, i'm just here to see my fiancé." rafe said, his hand going for the door, only to be blocked by the nurse.

"i'm sorry, but the patient has told us that she doesn't want any visitors."

"what?" rafe let out a dry, humorless laugh, his brows furrowed, "you have to let me see her, that's my fiancé. that's- that's the mother of my child."

"i'm sorry, but the patient-"

"hey!" rafe pounded the palm of his hand on the door, the hospital bed visible from the rectangle of glass on the door, the man able to see your mother hunched over your bed, holding you. "let me-"

"sir, if you don't calm down, i'm going to have to call the guards and they'll remove you from the premises."

"that's my fiancé!" rafe shouted as the nurse pushed him further from the door, "i have to go see her! you have to let me see her! just tell her that i'm here, she'll want-"

the door to your hospital room swung open, rafe meeting the crestfallen eyes of your mother, her lips pulled into a straight line. "rafe, she doesn't want to see you."

when you heard the doorbell ring, you wiped away the tears that had ran down your cheeks; you didn't want to make it obvious to your mother that you'd spent the last fifteen minutes crying, and even if she could tell by the redness of your eyes, you knew she wouldn't mention it.

you pushed yourself off the ground, placing the small urn and the ultrasound picture on top of the fireplace as you straightened out your sweater, your feet cold against the hardwood floor as you walked to the front door.

but when you pulled it open expecting to see your mother, it felt like all the air had been knocked out of your lungs, like your heartbeat shot through the roof just from the sight of his downcast eyes.

"rafe."

[sixty-silver-wishes]

yep. knew a guy in high school with an abusive girlfriend. 100% sounds like what happened with them.

I was friends with this guy, let's call him david, since like. first grade; our moms were good friends as well. so, our families went out for ice cream once, and david and I took a picture together, and I posted it to my snapchat. I did that whenever I went out with friends; that's just a normal thing that teenagers do.

a while later, david isn't talking to me at school. I found out that david's girlfriend had seen the picture of us. she asked david who I was, and he said I was his friend. she then asked if he thought I was pretty, and he said yes (what do you answer in that situation?). she then told david not to talk to me, or any other female friends he had. david's girlfriend didn't even go to the same school as us.

later on in college, david ended up dropping out to move out of state with his girlfriend. I didn't hear from him since he stopped talking to me in high school, so I assumed our friendship was basically dead. it wasn't until months later when he messaged me and told me that they broke up. she'd go through his phone and demand to see everything, saying that she had "trust issues" from being cheated on in the past.

I want to make this clear- regardless of gender, "trust issues" is not an excuse for controlling someone else. if you don't trust someone enough to accept that they have their own life- their own phone, their own friends, their own interests, their own documents- maybe you shouldn't be in a relationship with them in the first place.

I don’t know how many boys follow me, but I gotta bet there’s some. I just wanna tell y’all to be careful.

Abusive girls exist and what they’re doing is seen as like “badass tough don’t take no shit” but your girl should not hit you. Ever.

She should not demand for you to hand over your phone to look through.

She should not yell at you and humiliate you either alone or in front of people.

She shouldn’t make you distance yourself from your friends or family.

She shouldn’t scratch you or twist your arms.

She should not call you names.

She shouldn’t tell you ‘she’ll kill herself if you break up’

These are just a few examples of abuse and it’s just seen as okay when girls do it and god knows I’ve fallen victim to it a few times, but you shouldn’t have to.

Never worry about not being in a relationship. If they’re worth it, they won’t hurt you.

No one has the right to hurt you.

[wintfleur]

CUTE PANTS

` . . ── 𝓹airing luke hughes x female! reader

𝒮. you unexpectedly meet your new neighbor . . . in cute? pants

You had heard the alarms before you had even seen the apartment building you have been residing in for the past few years. Your thighs subtly ached as you rushed up the stone inclined path that led to the building. 

A heavy breath of relief left your lips when you made it to the top and saw your fellow residents talking amongst themselves outside the apartment. No fire or fire fighters in sight, it was just a drill. You smiled politely at your neighbors as you passed them, walking closer towards the apartment building, the annoying alarm didn't bother you since you were used to the sound. 

Your eyes traveled across the small sea of residents, some stood together most likely gossiping or complaining about the drill while others chose to stand alone. Your eyes did a double take when you noticed a tall and unfamiliar figure standing on his lonesome near the small water fountain that was to the side of the building. 

He had his back to you as he looked up at the building, so it wasn't his face that caught your attention, no it was his pants. It was his joggers that had little Snoopy's with hockey sticks? On them. what an interesting choice of pants, you thought to yourself with a small hum. You could easily tell by his body language that he was anxious about something. Most likely the fire alarm. 

“No need to look so worried, they do this every other month” you spoke as you walked up behind him, your tone reassuring and soft, not wanting to startle him with your sudden presence. Your eyes widened at how fast he turned to look at you, despite your soft tone your presence did seem to startle him, making you feel a little bad. 

Luke flinched and turned around to face you when he heard your voice, his breath hitching once he made eye contact with you. He was not expecting someone so pretty to be standing behind him, hell even talking to him. His mind wasn't even comprehending your words, instead his eyes were taking in every detail of you that he could.  

He suddenly felt very ridiculous, standing their lips parted as he looked down at you. He was internally yelling at himself to say something, but he couldn't form the words. Your lips parted in slight shock as you locked eyes with his sparkling green eyes, your eyes trailing down his perfect nose and slightly flushed cheeks and to his broad shoulders. You started to become worried that you said something wrong when he didn't say anything back . . . just stared at you in awe. 

Your fingers nervously fidgeted with the strap of your tote bag, you clear your throat and continue to speak, your tone a lot less confident as it was before “safety measures and all that” 

Luke finally broke out of his trance, blinking a few times before giving you a shy nod “Oh right, umm that's nice to know” he internally cringed at his poor excuse of a response, but he was thankful that you didn't seem to mind his awkwardness as you gave him a smile. Luke brought his hand up to awkwardly rub at his nape, his fingers brushing against his curls. He was totally blowing it and making a fool of himself, he cursed internally. 

“Yeah, yeah um that's a relief” Luke awkwardly chuckled to himself, biting his lip nervously after he let out a few chuckles. Why was it suddenly so hot? he thought to himself. 

“Cute pants” you mused with a teasing smile as your eyes trailed down his body, stopping long at his pants before titling your head back to look up at him. Your teasing smile and tone made his heart start to race, and his hands start to fidget at his sides. 

Luke’s eyes widened in panic, and he nervously rubbed his hands on the side of his pants as he looked down at them, curing himself for even stepping out of his apartment wearing them. His cheeks flushed in embarrassment as he chuckled nervously at the expense of himself “It's my laundry day” 

Before you could respond Luke took charge of the conversation, wanting to move past his ‘embarrassing pants’. He held out his hand for you to shake as he introduced himself with a shy smile “I’m Luke, I just moved into 242 with my brother” 

His heart fluttered at the feeling of your soft hand holding onto his as you politely shook it. Luke only seemed to go redder at the feeling of your touch, you let go of his hand way too soon for his taste, introducing yourself “242, hmm you're right above me, do you have an explanation for all the shuffling noises at 6am?” 

Luke didn't seem to pick up on your teasing tone and he's quick to apologize, trying to explain that it was him and his brother getting up for early practices, but you found yourself getting lost in his eyes and lips, his words completely going over your head. You laughed and shook your head, cutting him off from his small rant of apologies, with your sweet tone “I'm just teasing you Luke, I'm already up by 6 so it doesn't bother me” 

“. . . oh” he mumbled to himself before joining you in laughter, instantly relaxing a little at your reassurance. He cleared his throat and looked around at the two of your guy's surroundings, avoiding eye contact with you as he shyly mumbled “Sorry, I'm not usually this awkward” 

You were quick to reassure him with a smile “It's alright, i'm sorry for –” 

“No no no it's not your fault . . . well it is but –” luke was internally panicking as he cut you off, the last thing he wanted was his pretty neighbor blaming herself for something that wasn't her fault, well not entirely her fault. His heart was starting to race as he just realized what he had said, you looked up at him in slight confusion with a slight tilt of your head “it is?” 

Luke let out a heavy breath before confessing softly as he stuffed his shaking hands in his pockets “You're just really pretty . . . and i'm standing here making a fool outta myself the more i talk” 

He was worried that he came on too strong by calling you pretty when you physically froze and looked up at him with wide eyes. But he let out a small breath of relief when you let out a small giggle and took a step closer to him, he picked up on the small ‘cute’ you mumbled under your breath before you were saying sweetly “Thank you luke, and don't worry i don't think you are making a fool of yourself at all” 

“That's a relief, because I would really like to get to know you better — if that's alright with you of course . . . I'm in need of a good tour guide.” Luke smiled, shocking himself and you at the confidence and flirtiness in his tone. Yes, he had his brother jack and his teammates that could show him around, but he would prefer it if it was you. 

Before you could answer, you heard the manager of the apartment building calling out that it was alright for everyone to return to their apartments. You watched as your fellow residents made their way back into the building. You look back to Luke to see that he hasn't looked away from you, his green eyes begging for an answer, specifically a yes. 

You bit your lip before reaching into your tote bag and pulling out your pen and small notebook where you always wrote down your grocery lists. Luke’s eyes followed your every movement as you flipped it open and started to jolt down a number. His eyes went back up to your face as you ripped the page out and held it out for him. 

“Call me and we can schedule that tour, specifically not at 6am” You teased with a sparkling smile, slipping your pen and notebook back into your bag once he took the small paper. Luke smiled and let out a chuckle at your teasing, carefully holding the paper in his hands. 

“I’ll make sure to wear a different pair of pants” Luke quickly joined in your teasing, looking down at his pants with a smile before looking back at you. You giggled and looked down at his pants with a small smile before locking eyes with him, your sweet smile turning into a flirty smirk as you looked at him up and down before confidently saying. 

“Hmm i don't mind what you wear, i have a feeling you would look cute in anything” 

Luke went completely still at your words, the flush on his cheeks were quick to come back at your openly flirting, he opened his mouth to try to come up with anything to say but nothing came out. You laughed and the sound sounded like heaven to his ears, you softly patted his shoulder as you walked away from him and towards the front door that led to the building lobby. 

Luke quickly turned around to face you and watched as you walked away from him, his eyes following you dutifully. Before stepping into the lobby, you turn to face him one more time, giving him a smile and shy wave before leaving his sight. He returned the smile and wave before looking down at the light pink paper in his hands. His smile turned into a grin as his mind tried to memorize the numbers, afraid that he might lose it during the quick journey back to his shared apartment. 

New Jersey was definitely a big change for him, a change he was finding it a little hard to get used to. Not seeing his friends every day, the practices . . . the random fire alarm drills in his new apartment . . . but seeing his pretty neighbor was one change he could happily get used to. 

𝓇oro’s note. oh I missed writing for lukey sm :( I should be posting g another luke thing soon 🫢 please let me know know what you thought, feedback is what keeps me going 🫶🏻 . . . rookie luke makes my heart melt 🥹

updated note!! : I will be making this a AU 😽

m.list wc : 1,670

˖ ་ taglist : @lesrflms @winterbarnesblog @toasttt11 @cixrosie

©️️WINTFLEUR

[itachiiwrites]

𐙚 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄¡!

cw. 18+ flithy smut, Sub!Gojo, Dom!Reader, Enemies to lovers, gojo is a virgin and the word loser is used a lot.

AcademicRival!Satoru believed he'll have a merry time getting paired with you for your upcoming assignment, afterall, you were fun to pick on and he adored the way the vein would pop on your forehead after he says something to completely throw you off the tracks. His plan was to make you do all the work while he gets on your nerves to pass his time.

Satoru prides himself in being jack of all trades, he's the captain of the collegiate basketball team, student body president, has 4.0 GPA in his astrophysics major and is on the dean's list, his stunning good looks were to kill for and to add to those never ending positive attributes he's filthy rich, if it wasn't so obvious by his sports car's raging engine whenever he drifts it around in the campus. Gojo Satoru was a star. Gojo Satoru was game.

Admirers and people lining up for him was no big of a deal, it is the routine when you're him. You're one of the many people who find him fascinating, find him attractive (which was something you would never admit to, even if a ceiling fell over you) but still, why was he shaking his legs underneath the table while he watches the furrow of your brow focused on the screen in his dorm room? He's way too distracted to read this paper about Aesthetics and Marxism—he only took up sociology because it was a humanities requirement within his course and also because he was utterly, out of his mind bored.

Feeling the burning gaze of his abnormally blue eyes, you slam your fist onto the table and anyone who was in their right mind would be able to decipher that your expression was twisted in unfiltered annoyance, the mask of a small, pleasant smile as your veins popped on your forehead was failing miserably. "We could get a lot done if you didn't think this was a staring contest"

"Wow, really? I did think it was a staring contest with how boring all this is" He mocked knowing it would only agitate you further, his eyes shamelessly trailed over the plushness of your thighs and how the skirt fabric sat on top of it, his thoughts were digressing, wondering about the colour of your pant—

"What are you looking at, pervert..?" You point it out to break the unholy chain of his thoughts immediately, his eyes widened by being caught off-guard, evading away to focus on the papers in front of him, lasering his eyes to aim at understand at whatever 'Russian constructivism' meant, his fist gripped the pencil tighter and tighter as he felt unbelievably panicked at being caught, the trance of embarrassment breaking away along with a sharp 'snap' of the pencil.

With a faltering attempt to maintain his cockiness, Satoru looked at you. "Just looking at how much of a loser you look, even broke a pencil because it's annoying how nerdy you dress" a painful roll of his eyes followed by, but his ventures to cover the way he felt were too poor and what was the parameter? The goddamned seductive smile on your pretty lips.

Gojo Satoru was game, but he was a fucking virgin.

"Lying is not going to save your ass, I can literally see the tent in your pants, what are you..a teenager..?" The mockery in your eyes and the superiority you had over him in that very moment was enough to make him let go of his guards and feel his knees buck. You were beautiful and he was so pathetically down bad for that.

"Unlike you, I have many things to excel at..who has time for something as stupid as this anyway" You had to give some kudos for the fact that his voice remained balanced despite the throbbing erection in his pants, and you made a face with slanting pursed lips that was to show him you believed him, although anyone could tell you didn't.

"what is with that face? You think you're better than me? What do you know about sex, having your cute nose burried in those stupid books all day.." And that statement makes you raise your brow, Satoru Gojo, called you cute? This was something, this was when he knew he messed up and you had all the power.

"Why don't I show it to you then? You wanna be a loser in this one area? Come on.. you're better than that, right?" Satoru gulped, the offer was beyond tempting, all those fantasies he ran his mind for while wrapping his hand around his cock in his dark dorm room, relieving himself while yearning for the warmth for your mouth and cunt—finally had the chance to be fleshed out to life. It was tempting indeed but what about his ego?

"Sure, I bet you suck at this too" He huffed a laugh with his faux confidence, only to be miserably proved wrong within a few minutes.

"Please— fuck! Your mouth feels so good.." He breathed heavily with an almost violent rise and fall of his chest, his legs sprawled wide as he was on the couch of his room and you, his beautiful arch-nemesis was skillfully using his cock like it was your personal toy. Satoru didn't feel he was being sucked off for his pleasure, he was being sucked off to be proven of the fact that you were in control here.

He reached his trembling hands to tangle within your locks as you let a thick glob of your spit fall onto his tip with a grin, tantalisingly rubbing it on your glossed lips. "Better than your stupid fist right?" And he moans at that degradation, his eyes marbeling with glassy tears, your pride swelled more than anything.

"Ever seen tits in real life? Or are you that much of a loser to have Inoue Waka as your wallpaper.." You teased further, unbuttoning your blouse and unfastening your bra from the front to spill out your breasts and Satoru's brain simply short circuits the moment the cushiness of your tits gather around his cock and he feels the tightening sting on his abdomen, dripping out loads of his cum onto your tits, painting you like the masterpiece you were with thick ribbons of his ejaculate.

You hum, licking a long strip from his base, swirling your hot tongue around his softening, sensitive frenum as he is limp by the pleasure.

"There's no way you're this good.." He spoke, almost sounding as if something unbelievable happened, almost angry.

"Such a good boy 'Toru.." You giggle in response, kissing his abdomen and he feels pathetically, helplessly in love with you.

Gojo Satoru was game, but you were a roulette.

[sturniqlo]

blushing mess- shy!matt x shy!reader

summary: where shy!matt goes up to shy!reader for the first time

cw: none! pure fluff

an: there is a lot of "uh's" in this chapter to show how nervous they are :)

masterlist | shy!matt x shy!reader | join my taglist

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

wednesday

the aroma of fresh coffee and pastries hit matt as soon as he walked into the small shop he'd visit frequently. as he stood in line, he examined the room for any open tables he could sit at. he spotted one next to a girl who seemed to be studying. that's the spot, it looks like she's not the type of person to try and make small talk- he had sat to a couple of those people.

hi, can i get a medium caramel iced coffee and a vanilla scone. he rehearsed the order to himself. as he got closer to the register, he kept looking over to the table he wanted to sit at- the girl sitting at the table next to him looked up and locked eyes with him. matt being matt- he looked away as he felt the blush begin to creep up his face. she was pretty- really pretty.

"next in line!" the cashier said. matt gasped and hurried forward. "hello, how are you today." the cashier fixed her hat. "oh- uhm- i'm good today. how are you?" he didn't rehearse this. "i'm good- thank you. what can i get for you today?" she did something on the screen in front of her.

"can i get a- uh- medium caramel iced coffee and a vanilla scone." he fiddled with the debit card in his hand. "unfortunately we sold our last vanilla scone a little while ago." the cashier informed him. matt bit the inside of his cheek.

"do you have a chocolate croissant?" he asked. "yeah, we do." she nods. "i'll take one." one he finished paying, he went and took a seat at the table he had his eyes on. the girl looked up at him and smiled before looking back at her laptop. he scrolled on his phone as he waited for his ordered. from the corner of his eye, he saw the vanilla scone next to her drink.

she must've gotten the last one.

"order for matt!" the barista called out. matt stood up from his chair and walked over to her his drink and pastry. matt went back to his table and glanced over at the girl sitting next to him. she was so focused on whatever was on her screen. he saw how she had a small pout, a slight furrow in her eyebrows, and would occasionally bite her bottom lip.

stop it! she'll think you're weird! he thought and immediately looked away, taking a sip of his drink. as he continued to scroll on his phone and finish his drink and croissant he couldn't help but keep stealing glances.

soon, the girl packed up her belongings and left the cafe. matt frowned. he'll get her next time.

the following days (thursday, friday, monday, tuesday)

the next day, matt returned in hopes to see her again. when he walked in, his eyes scanned the tables, but she wasn't sitting in any of them. he ordered his usual- scone included- and sat down. anytime the door bell chimed open, he looked up, unfortunately she never walked in. on friday- he did the same. matt waited all weekend since the shop was closed to return on monday. on monday and tuesday, there was no sight of her. he was afraid he'd never see her again.

next week wednesday

it was exactly a week later since matt first laid eyes on her. he went back to the coffee shop, only this time he didn't go in hopes of seeing her. he knew he'd never see her again.

"hello, i'll have a- uhm- medium caramel iced coffee and your last two vanilla scones, please." he paid and sat down in his normal table. as he was on his phone- the door chimed opens and out of habit, he looked up. it was her. she walked in with a smile, fixing her tote bag on her shoulder removing her headphones from her ears as she ordered.

although her and the cashiers voices were muffled- he understood what she ordered: a small brown sugar cookie iced coffee and a scone. he had realized he had ordered the last two scones. when his order came out, he picked it up at the counter and went back to his table and sure enough- she was sitting in the table next to his.

he gave her a small smile and sat down mixing his iced coffee with the straw. a few minutes later her iced coffee was ready. she sat back down and took a few sips before returning back to her computer screen.

do it, matt. "did you- uh- did you want a scone?" he asked- even he was surprised by his own voice. "huh?" she didn't quite hear him at first. "a scone- i bought an extra one." he held up the extra scone in the bag. "oh- uhm- are you sure?" a slight blush creeped up on her face- and soon enough he felt his face warming up. "mhm- here you go." he handed it to her.

"thank you.." she waited for his name. "matthew, but you can call me matt- or- or matthew doesn't really matter." she giggled at his nervousness. "thank you, matt. i'm y/n." she smiled, looking away for a split second- the eye contact had gotten a bit too much for her and her face was so hot she was sure it was bright red by now. "you're welcome, y/n." her name rolled off of his tongue easily. the two have each other a smile and turned away from each other.

they both stole glances here and there. until a couple of minutes later when she was starting to pack up, matt had a mental battle with himself. what if she had a boyfriend? even worse- what if she rejects him? or what if he can't even get the sentence out? he sighed to himself. this might be the last time he'll see her.

"hey- uh- y/n." her head whipped from her bag to him. "yeah?" her voice came out soft. she liked this- the attention she was receiving from matt. y/n had always heard from her friends that the boys that went up to them were usually pervs and only wanted one thing. although she was a bit skeptical at first when he offered her his scone. he didn't bother her in a way that made her uncomfortable.

"can i- can i get you number? if that's okay with you, obviously. i- uh- i think you're really pretty. i would love to get to know you." his face beet red- he had obviously never done this before. as soon as those words hit her ears, she blushed. "oh! uhm- sure, yeah- mhm." she nodded, trying to hide her smile had was forming. matt's eyes slightly widen at the face that she had said yes.

"cool- i- uh- here's my phone." he grabs his phone from the table and he unlocks it and goes into the keypad so she can type her number in. "here you go. i'll hear from you soon?" y/n hands his phone back and fixes her bag on her shoulder. "yeah- of- of course! it was nice talking to you."

they soon parted ways.

later that day

unknown

hi, it's matt :)

from earlier today at the coffee shop

[ultramaga]

"An aggressively racist man can still have the support of numerous people of color", says the moron incapable of consciousness. Here's an idea. Maybe he wasn't racist? Maybe, instead, you are ? "A chauvinist that wants to enforce laws" Oh no. He wants to enforce laws. How dreadful. "an restrictions on women's bodies" Everyone's body is restricted. Which is why it is a crime for a man to punch you. Every Leftist manages to forget that one the second it is inconvenient.

Good thing he enforces the laws. "coined the term "grab 'em by the pussy"" Oh, how dreadful, a heterosexual wants to touch the genitals of the opposite sex. Where is my fainting couch? Leftists always edit out the "when you’re a star, they let you do it".

Because it's inconvenient to admit that women do gravitate to high status males, even if it's just to use them as cash machines.

Oh, I am sure they let him grab more than a pussy ....

"A xenophobic man who wanted to build a wall" If he was xenophobic, he wouldn't have married his wife and certainly wouldn't be beloved by foreigners. You confuse wanting to keep out criminals with hating outsiders because you don't know there's a difference. Because you are racist, or a moron.

Walls around countries are pretty common.

Or are Indians just xenophobes as well?

"still has the support of immigrants" Yeah, the people who obey laws don't want the criminals inside the house. So what does that make you, glassmermaids?

Oh right, you are from South Africa, the country where whites are routinely murdered if they aren't behind walls. So of course you want the walls torn down - silly me!

"People still support and voted for a convicted felon" As opposed to Kamala Harris, who boasted that she broke the laws and never, ever was punished - the same laws she imprisoned young black men with, the same laws she used to make them slave for her. Of course you are in favour of two-tier justice -- rules for thee, not for me. And look at the trial -

https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/2024/05/29/jurors-must-be-unanimous-convict-trump-can-disagree-underlying-crimes/

THE JURORS WERE TOLD THAT THEY DIDN'T HAVE TO THINK HE WAS GUILTY OF THE ACCUSATIONS TO VOTE HIM GUILTY. There's no precedent for that.

Which is why HE HASN'T BEEN SENTENCED. It was obvious to everyone that it was a political witchhunt of exactly the sort that is routinely used in corrupt states to eliminate political opposition. So the accusation that he's a felon? He literally isn't! And the American people didn't think he was guilty either. Of course, what was he even accused of? Paying hush money to a sex worker? What happened to "sex work is real work"? Funny how that vanished the second it was inconvenient. But tell me, how many convictions did Hunter Biden get for his under-age hookers? None? Even mentioning his laptop got you censored and threatened with prison? Laws for thee, and none for meeeee! What about the cocaine in the Whitehouse? No consequences? Huh.

But as Leftists point out, it's not "hush money" when Leftist leaders do it, it's "a settlement between gentlemen and their many ladies of the night".

"People still support and voted for a convicted felon, racist, rapist" Number of convictions is zero - the best you ever got was he paid hush money to a sex worker. In fact, you know who does commit rape?

Yup! South African women are proven to be more likely to be rapists than Donald Trump. Huh. Makes me wonder. Makes the old noggin' go a'joggin'.

"people still support and voted for Donald Trump" And they will never do that to you. Your birth is back there in time, your death somewhere forward of now, and nothing in between those events will matter a fig.

So much salt.

So. Much. Salttttttt.

Rape allegations and charges do not ruin mens' lives because a rapist can run for president and win. An aggressively racist man can still have the support of numerous people of color, can run for president and win. A chauvinist that wants to enforce laws an restrictions on women's bodies and coined the term "grab 'em by the pussy" still has the support of women. A xenophobic man who wanted to build a wall to keep foreigners out of the country still has the support of immigrants. People still support and voted for a convicted felon, racist, rapist and scum of the earth. Despite it all, people still support and voted for Donald Trump.

[bunnys-kisses]

⋆⋅☆max v. with a trans masc partner☆⋅⋆

max verstappen knew what he liked. while he usually put the front as a heterosexual man, he had always been a little more fluid about his sexuality outside of the limelight. he had kissed many men in his life as with women, even those who were neither men nor women. kissing was fun, sex was fun. and he wasn't going to limit himself to one set of tools to get the job down. a cock down the throat could be as delightful as sinking into a sweet pussy.

so it was more of a surprise for you to receive max's advances than it was for him to give them.

you remembered when you grandmother told you that she was concerned about you transitioning because you may "never find love" and you told her that it didn't matter. cars were your love, you didn't need a person to fill that gap. so when you met the three time world champion as the new mechanic for the 2024 season, you honestly didn't think too much about wooing him romantically.

but, max was wooed by you. especially when he saw that your lockscreen of your phone was a picture of your two cats, and when he brought up his cats, you just lit up. max liked that you treated him like he was a person. and you simply said, "mate, i'm pretty certain they don't let robots drive these cars." then slapped him on the back, "but i will make you bleed red if you total my car." then flashed him a smile.

you remembered the first time max kissed you. the dutch grand prix had been a total success and within the quietness of the garage post-race with the trophy max had won near by. he took you by the waist and kissed you. he'd later admit that he wanted to do it right on the track.

"do you kiss all your mechanics like that, verstappen?"

"no, only the ones who allow me to win." you two had spent almost the entire season bitching about red bull. max wondered if or when he eventually jumped teams, if he could take you with him. as he held you in his arms. chest to chest.

you admitted close to his ear, a little insecure, "i hope you know. i've built myself... i was born a girl, but became something more. different." then tried to pull back, fearful of his response. you weren't trying to trick him, you'd rather have it on the table.

but he pulled you back in, his blue eyes on you, "you act like i don't know what transgender people are, mechanic." he said as he leaned you back a little, to get a fuller look at you, "you act like i've never been to bed with one."

"i don't want to be a one night stand." you said, your hands on the front of his polo shirt. his hat long hit the floor in the heat of the kiss. you swallowed, "i won't be a toy, verstappen. i have too much respect for myself."

he chuckled, "that's what i like to hear." he held you around the waist and you kissed once more. he could feel the rise in his blood pressure. while you could've easily done it in the garage, max gave you the address of where he was staying and the lie to tell security.

the mechanics team were in another hotel, but if you wore your red bull branded uniform and had your mechanic's pass then you'd get in easily. they'd never suspect that you'd be intimate with the star of the team. and you did just that. even flashing a smile at security before you headed up to the elevator. they didn't even ask questions, which made your life easier.

you found max's room and he happily brought you in. but once the door was closed behind you. his strong arms were around you. he smiled at you, happy to see you. you carefully touched his face, part of you believed this was a strange dream after too many rum and cokes. but as you felt his facial hair under your hand, this was all painfully real.

"do you want this?" he asked.

you nodded and responded with a question of your own, "do you?"

his smile grew a little more, he leaned in closer to you. you only now realized how blue his eyes were, "since the moment i saw you come to the garage. you were more impressed with the car than with me... i found it endearing." he chuckled.

you held his face with both hands and gazed at him, "yeah, because it's a piece of shit car for a champion. it's like giving the king aluminum instead of gold."

he laughed before he leaned in for a kiss. you held his face close to yourself and you felt something bloom in your gut. eventually you got your worn sneakers kicked off and the jacket of your uniform off. it left you in a white t-shirt and max started to strip as well. you eyed his form and he eyed yours.

you felt his heated gaze linger on your chest for a moment and without thinking you crossed your arms across where your top surgery scars were. it was habit at that point.

max was in just his jeans and socks. he reached for your arms. feeling your warm under his palm as he carefully moved your arms away. he wanted to admire you, all of you.

"must've felt very different after the surgery." he said as he held your wrists, his eyes gazed on the fading scars. he was in no way to judge about scarring. at least yours were for something worthwhile, to change yourself in such a fundamental way, "was it scary?"

you shook your head, "no... i wanted to do everything afterwards. my doctor basically put me on bed rest because i was trying to push myself too hard. what was a four week recovery turned in seven."

he placed his hands on your flat chest and could feel the slight raise of the scars under his palms, "you push yourself too hard."

you swallowed, feeling the heat in your cheeks, "if you want to be the best. you have to do more than your best." your gaze met his. it felt so painfully intimate. this wasn't just sex in a hotel room, this was intimacy. max wanted more than your body, he wanted to know all the nooks of your soul and what inhabited them.

he leaned in once more, "we have that in common." before he kissed you once more. his kiss was sweeter, an assurance that you and your body were nothing to be ashamed of. if anything he admired it, even though he couldn't relate to the feelings you carried. he could at least understand the guts it took to go through it.

to become more than you what was given to you. it endeared you to him as you broke the kiss and continued to get undressed. the more of your bodies exposed to one another, the hotter the room got. even with the air conditioning rattling in the room. you could feel the heat between you two.

max sighed, "i don't have condoms... i can pull out or we can do something else." he explained as he got into the bed with you. both naked. his broad hand grazed across your body.

you responded and placed his hand on your lower abdomen, right before your pussy, "hysterectomy. six months before i started. are you clean though?"

he replied, "yes. been a long time since i've been with someone anyway." he was telling the truth. since you started at the season, everything had become a blur with you and the championship being a central focus.

his pointer finger trailed across the scar for a moment before he took your face in his hands and kissed you once more. you could go on about the shape of your face, but in his hands it felt very small. you hadn't realized that max verstappen had paws instead of hands. the thought made you giggle a little into the kiss.

he pulled away and looked at you before he laid you out on your back. he asked with a small smile, "what are you laughing about?"

you looked up at him and said, "didn't realized that formula one drivers had such big hands. every seen them up close like this before." then yelped a little when max grabbed you by the hips and pushed himself up against you.

he curved his back over you and maintained eye contact, those blue eyes were swimming with lust, "well. it's good you haven't seen others this close up. i might get a little jealous."

you looked away for a moment with a stupid grin on your face, "okay, flirt. why don't we get to it before i melt into this bed." then a soft moan left your lips as he rubbed his cock up against your wet cunt.

he admired you for a moment, hoping the image of your naked body stayed with him for weeks to come. you looked masculine. he wasn't going to say "technically" it's not having sex with a man. you were a man just as much as he was if not more. you had to create your manhood and you made it to perfection.

"i want you." you said softly.

he leaned forward and kissed you gently on the lips before he eased his cock into you. he replied with an equal softness, "i want you too, mechanic." the nickname made your ears hot as he moved against you. he thrusts were gently but gained a steady momentum.

you held onto the covers under your back and let him move against you. once you got a hold of his rhythm, you were able to meet his movements as well. the kisses you two shared grew hot as max planted both hands on either side of you and moved.

you two were moving against one another, locked in a heated kiss. the bed shifted slightly under your movements. max was thankful that were was not a bed on the opposite side of the wall. and that this place had enough insulation to keep your noises muffled.

the last thing he wanted was your integrity to come into question. that you only got to where you were because of your seductive ways. the noises between you two were soft. there was no need to rush, the race was over and tomorrow you'd be on the flight to the next one.

he took your hands and held them by your head, which kept you two close but also allowed him to keep you pinned under him. when you broke the kiss, you rested your forehead against his. the noises were harder to keep under wraps the more you moved. the pleasure felt like fireworks in your brain.

you moaned a little bit before you said, "i was thinking something stupid."

max chuckled his sweaty forehead against yours, "tell me."

"i realized what your eyes remind me of." you admitted softly, "i couldn't quite pin it after we met." you were breathing heavily as you locked your fingers further with his.

"and what do they remind of you?" he asked, curiously. he had heard people refer to them like the ocean, the sky after a store, the definition of blue.

you replied, "home. the lake near where i lived. not scary like the ocean. familiar like the lakes i grew up near."

max had no words, he simply laid another kiss on you. his hands grasped your tightly as you two moved together more. the pace quickened and max knew that he wanted to be in your life for a long period of time. he wanted you to be his home.

you moaned against the kiss, feeling the heat leap in your belly as you felt closer to orgasm. you came first with your lips against his. your back arched but your hands were pinned to the bed. it felt good as pleasure rushed to your brain.

max broke the kiss and continued to move against you. he let go of your hands in favour of your hips where he bounced your further against his cock. it made crackles of pleasure appear in your brain. and he was no better, his heavy breathing and occasional moan fueled his need to finish. and when he did, he did so inside of you. max never thought too much about the surgery you had, but he was thankful for it tonight.

he stayed inside of you for a moment as he cooled down before he left a kiss on the corner of your mouth. full of such tenderness as he pulled out of you and ran his fingers through his short hair.

you laid out next to him and heavily panting, feeling so vulnerable. he stayed closer to you, eventually pulling you to him and resting his chin on top of your head. you got comfortable against him.

"if you have any questions, i can answer them... about the whole trans thing." you swallowed, even now you felt embarrassed bringing it up. you felt it was a mood killer.

he took you by the chin and made you face him. he smiled down at you. he asked one question, "are you happy? did you get the life you wanted?"

you nodded in response, "everything and more." and that was enough for max. anything else you felt the need to tell him would be told with time, after all, max expected to be in your life for many years to come. both as his mechanic and lover.

-

max would only come clean about the relationship two years later. the end of his contract with red bull and a final championship was enough for the driver to retire peacefully. and when he retired, you retired and you made a home in monaco.

the coming out post set the internet ablaze. especially given how long you two had been together. wasn't anything too special, just a small collection of photos that he had taken over your time together. like the time you wore his helmet in 2025 with a big thumbs up. and that time you thoroughly messed up a birthday cake for him, and with the camera in your face, he rubbed the icing off your cheek. the one that really captured eyes was the one that a friend took of you at a house party when max came to visit your home country, with his legs over your strong lap and his lips against your face. you were smiling like the sun. being the center of a media storm was only braved with max by your side. at one point turning your phone off and throwing it onto the couch. his kisses were still loving as always, his words soft, and his affirmations of your gender were often so sweet that you'd cover your face in embarrassment.

you were always comfortable with the idea of not meeting your 'other half', you had been given a second chance at life once you came out. and if no one could accept you then so be it. but as you laid out on the couch laid out against your boyfriend with sassy at your side and your cat between the crook of your knee, you felt loved. <3

a/n: i do write for masc readers as well, both cis and beyond. just not as often because many request femme readers. but if an idea is cooking in your head. hit me with it!

[hitomisuzuya]

Hey hey Suzuuuu

I hope you can see this request..

It’s a nsfw

I would like to request Wanderer x shy fem reader at Sumeru Akademiya, a new student came in and its reader who is shy to introduce herself. And the teacher told the new student to sit next to Wanderer and Wanderer finds it annoying when he preferred to be alone.

At some time, Wanderer becomes like a bully when he likes to tease and make fun of fem reader only to see her reactions, and it makes him like want to corrupt her innocence.

wanderer (scaramouche) x fem!reader. smut corruption. fingering. bullying. minor degradation.

i want to sincerely thank everyone for letting me take my time and go through requests at my own pace 😭🥺 i feel bad, though.

wanderer only went to class that day because nahida insisted on walking him there. if she hadn't, he would gone right out into the forest to hide and maybe nap in a tree for awhile. a more valuable use of his time, in his opinion, but nahida insisted that the akademiya would be good for him.

he could practically taste your innocence the moment you walked through the lecture hall door. it was pure in a way he hadn't considered still existed. through his sheer annoyance at you being seated next to him (his table was the only empty seat. he could totally see why), he shot you a glare that sent an unexpected shiver up your spine.

"don't think we are going to be friends because you are sitting next to me," he wanted to level with you right here and now. "99% of the time, i won't even be here."

"oh, that's fine," you replied, organizing your books and tucking some hair behind your ear. "i'm not here to make friends. i am here to learn," you pursed your lips, and offered him a soft smile, "my family also has high expectations of me."

"i didn't ask," wanderer replied, crossing his arms and finding a spot to fixate on and stare at for the rest of the class. chances are he knew more things politically than the professor. the asshole who wrote that essay about what he thought happened on tatarasuna sure thought he knew everything.

still though, as much as he hates it, he kept looking at you from the corner of his eye. it was easy for him to tell what kind of girl you are in these moments. you certainly had no issue sitting there, looking pretty while you listened with such foolish intent. you even took notes on the smallest, most useless things.

did you think this knowledge may come in use later?

judging from your explanation earlier, wanderer knew exactly what to capitalize on and take advantage of.

he didn't expect you to have the most interesting reactions when he bullied you.

"it must be so hard for you," wanderer cooed condescendingly, watching you survey the mess he made by knocking all your books out of your hands. "always being a goody goody. doing your homework on time, never missing class," sighing, he kicked one of notebooks out of the way as you reached down to pick it up. "you have be getting crushed under the weight."

"i..i am just so clumsy," you stumbled over your words a little, clearly flustered. wanderer licked his lips. you are just so interesting. he'd just been so mean to you. anyone should've snapped or fought back. but not you. you had the shyest flush on your cheeks. were you enjoying this?

as for you, you are. the more interactions you have with wanderer bullying you, with his enchanting electric eyes and condescending purr to his voice, the wetter you got. it was embarrassing to you. a fact that you had a hard time coming to terms with. at first.

he even used a small gust of anemo to knock your water bottle out of your hand one day, tossing water all over your shirt (it was to see your nipples harden in your bra from cold the water was), but you only looked at him with further adoration.

but his bullying just felt so good. you couldn't possibly tell him that you often fingered yourself until you were a wet, twitching mess at night after classes.

in wanderer's still very twisted mind, corrupting you would be helping you. he didn't even know when he started coming to class everyday, but you were starting to look like you weren't sleeping well. your hands shook while you took tests.

the moment you felt wanderer's hand dip into your panties for the first time, parting your folds and grazing your clit, your hips immediately jerked up to grind on his fingers. fingers that you always thought are so ungodly beautiful it should be considered a crime.

a moan you didn't even mean to let out sounded from you. the more those beautiful fingers stroked your pussy, the more it throbbed and clenched. your eyes widened in an aroused desperation, your hole clenching around the tips of his fingers as he prodded them teasingly at your entrance.

"you poor thing," wanderer cooed, "this is probably the best you have felt ever," he slowly wagged the pads of his fingers on your clit, tearing mewls from you as he just as teasingly pinched your clit. "you are so fucking wet, your cunt will suck my fingers in."

your clit throbbed, feeling shamelessly compelled to rub your soaking pussy on his fingers. "i thought you had to get to class?" he continued. your eyes widened as he started to take his hand out of your panties. "do you know how foolish it is to try and please everyone all the time?"

your hand shot out to grasp his wrist. "no, please. i don't want to go anywhere. i want to stay right here with you," you urged his hand between your legs again. "please," your eyes watered in desperation.

wanderer chuckled. did you have an idea how much of a turn on you are in general? you, the good and innocent girl was begging to skip class and stay with him with your legs spread on his bed. fuck, you deserve to have your pretty pussy stuffed full with his fingers. "who knew you are really such a slut?"

you are breaking so well under the weight of his corruption. you couldn't think about anything other than the need to feel his fingers fucking into you. thoughts you'd never had before about anyone. until wanderer.

"good girl," he tuggedyour panties off, his cock straining from watching the soaked material peel off your pussy. "moan for me while i break you. it's what you want the most, no?" he pushed two fingers inside of you, stretching you apart and hooking them to the knuckle into your sweet spot.

you nodded, jolts of pleasure crackling through you. your eyes nearly rolled closed in pleasure as he started pumping his fingers. they would've had he not put a hand on your jaw. "no, no, kitten. i wanna see those pretty eyes of yours while i make you cum," he gently squeezed your jaw to remind you of your place.

it is erotic to him how some of your moans even had a tinge of shock in them. you are coming apart so fast, your body only relaxing and submitting to him. he was devouring you, and nothing has ever felt better in your whole life.

the pumps of his fingers grew more aggressive with your consistent moans. he stretched your pussy apart so perfectly, sussing out every sensitive spot between your walls effortlessly. "a third finger, please," you moan, rocking your hips up extra to convey your plea.

wanderer was more than happy to oblige you. he abruptly added a third finger, bullying it against your sweet spot. a near scream of pleasure tore from your throat. "are you feeling good, slut?" his cock pulsed as your walls snapped tighter around his fingers. you obviously enjoy being degraded. "you'll tend to my cock next, yes?"

you struggled to even nod, your cheeks flushed with adoration. "yes! i want to more than anything!" you cried out, stroking his wrist in appreciation as your orgasm curled tighter, your juices frothing and gathering on the insides of your thighs.

"oh? more than going to class or pleasing your family?" wanderer couldn't wait for your inevitable response. a response that would no doubt make him want to impale you on his cock even more. he couldn't break you too fast.

could he?

"yes, yes please! so much more than..than.." your words fell away, the knot of your orgasm building and tightening to an almost overwhelming degree. "anything!" you barely managed to cry out, twitching and writhing as you scrambled to chase the wonderful high unlike any other that he was providing.

wanderer couldn't help but laugh shakily, slowly stroking his cock. you look more beautiful breaking than he imagined. he knew he didn't have to keep his hand on your chin anymore. you couldn't and wouldn't dream of taking your eyes off. not when he'd demanded you to keep looking at him while you cum.

[amoebab22]

I completely agree with this. I feel like this is one of the worst parts about Veilguard. My Inky is in the South, and while I firmly believe Orlais is the devil, it's very weird that Tevinter is just super chill about my elf Rook when my elf Inky had constant micro-aggressions as well as just out and out slurs hurled at her. Also I'm going on a rant about Mythal.

SPOILERS BELOW

Bellara also seems to just...kind of ignore that I'm an elf? Davrin makes more sense. He left his clan and joined the Wardens because he just didn't really vibe with the Dalish. He'd think of himself as a Warden first, I think. Wardens don't seem to give much of a shit about your race or religion or sexuality or whatever. In The Calling, they canonically don't give a fuck about the gay couple in their little group, or that Fiona is a mage and an elf. Absolutely irrelevant. So Davrin could start to fall into that mindset because frankly, it's a nice way to live. It's just not real outside the Wardens.

So when Bellara is like oh my god our gods are evil and Davrin is like eh, fuck 'em, that's actually about the most realistic reaction we've got re: elves. Davrin is just out here like yo I'm a little busy saving the world fuck them gods. Love Davrin.

Also, in Inquisition, there's concern that knowing Corypheus's artifact is Elvhen will cause violence against elves. So knowing it's the Elvhen gods causing all of this? The consequences of that, even if an elf Rook saves the world, should be looming for a Shadow Dragon in particular. Clearly Inquisitor Ameridan's race did nothing for the elves of Orlais. It was covered up over time. His sacrifice meant nothing to the humans. This should make Solas's plans to restore the elves much, much more tempting.

The way the Crows were presented REALLY bothered me as well as someone who romanced Zev. The Crows *tortured* him, sexually assaulted him, made him feel worthless, because it was seen as necessary. Sure, Lucanis being blood family might give him a very different perspective and experience, but Jacobus is just allowed to be a Crow and start his own house when he wouldn't kill? I mean, I totally agree that prolonged, public shaming and imprisonment is worse for this individual, but like.... That's not how the Crows work. They kill stuff for money. Sure, they run Antiva and would be pretty pissed off about the Antaam taking their territory I'm sure, and they might work with Rook since Rook helped Lucanis and he's a big deal to the First Talon. But like... It should be a hard choice to work with them for Shadow Dragon Rook, because SLAVERY.

I feel like the pullback on slavery is to make Solas's actions seem more ambiguous, and to make it seem like there was some equal power between him and Mythal. But I have a very hard time believing he was never Mythal's slave. Also, a spirit of BENEVOLENCE? Get ABSOLUTELY fucked. She was fine with SLAVERY. Thought she could just slowly phase it out, maybe. Yeah, no .

Because here's the thing: slavery is evil. Whatever you have to do to stop slavery, short of participating or killing slaves, is pretty easy to justify. Maybe I'm just John Brown-pilled from living in Kansas a good chunk of my life, but killing slavers and slave owners and freeing slaves is MORALLY CORRECT. FULL STOP. A "kind" master is still a master. Sure, you can give them a chance to free their slaves and make reparations first, but waiting to vote slavery out didn't work. The US had to go to war. Haiti had to rebel (and give basically all its GDP to France for like two hundred years. Fuck Orlais AND France).

The only reason my Inky was able to befriend Dorian, at first, was their shared trauma in going to the future. That changes people (that whole quest fucked me up the first time I did it) and I think my elf Inky was looking for reasons to trust Dorian and ignore the system he participated in. She didn't have to see it so it seemed less real. He's an altus so he doesn't own the estate. He seems open to other opinions! And some part of him knows it's wrong, or he wouldn't be so awkward upon talking to Inky the first time.

But Solas's inherent and never fully overcome distrust of Dorian isn't wrong. Solas needs to see action; words aren't enough. I don't blame him.

This is the same softening we saw of the Templars in DA2 and Inquisition, but if you read The Stolen Throne and The Calling and play DAO, it's very clear that mages are oppressed by the Chantry and live in horrible conditions. The ones in Lake Calenhad are described as pale and kinda sickly looking (or something like that) because they don't get any fucking sunlight. Fiona is happy to go to the circle at first because she was a SLAVE in Orlais (Honestly Loghain's hatred of Orlais is justified even though his actions aren't). If you decide to allow the right of annulment or whatever in DAO, Zevran calls it genocide. Zevran isn't one to mince words. He doesn't pretend he isn't a killer or that he wasn't tortured.

My Inky and my Rook are both 'no gods no masters' types, which is why I think clan Lavellan sent their First on a risky mission supposedly by herself (got real sick of her shit lol). As a result, she heavily sympathizes with Solas's cause, and would have happily joined him in bringing down the Veil if he'd just agreed to spend time making sure as few people died as possible, particularly after she meets the Avvar and sees how spirits really are. She knows Solas better than anyone, and even without a full explanation, she'd know that his reasons for doing this were morally right. He freed her people. He never meant to hurt them. He can't live with his guilt. Inky (who in my game was more like 30 because I don't think she could have made decisions or led on her own at 20, nor would she have been a studied enough mage) wants freedom for everyone. She's chaotic good.

Rook is a Shadow Dragon who killed slavers a little too hard for an organization dedicated to killing slavers (based Rook). They're also chaotic good, and a bit of an idiot, bless them, who kinda sees everything as a nail because they have a hammer. They see slavery, they fight it. Fuck the consequences. Solas did the same.

So why is Rook not bringing up slavery a lot? Why is Rook only finding out that Solas freed slaves on the regular at the beginning of the game? Did Varric just decide that wasn't worth bringing up to a person whose entire life revolves around ending slavery? Why is Rook not having an existential crisis after talking to Solas and finding out the truth of his past in his memories?

Look, all I'm saying is that I don't understand why more people aren't angry with Mythal and why no one is talking about slavery and racism. The whole point of fantasy and sci-fi, and the point of Dragon Age, is to critique modern society through thinly veiled references. That's why people get so passionate about Star Trek. And yeah, yes, it's necessarily going to make a piece of media more niche, or people are going to bitch about it (especially gamer bros my dude calm down, sorry something is very briefly not about you), but it makes a game *good* and lasting

BG3 did a good job of exploring the themes of trauma and power imbalance, and while some characters I think needed more fleshing out (Wyll my beloved, I owe you a lengthy fanfic for the injustice done to you), it was particularly powerful in Astarion. The people are ready for real exploration of real issues. We always have been. Backing off was a mistake.

ANYWAY I have feelings and none of my friends share my special interest. Here you go.

Why Fenris could Never Cameo in Dragon Age: The Veilguard

In the run up to Dragon age: The Veilguard, I was almost certain that Fenris would be our main legacy character from previous games. Not only has he been central in the comics released between DAI and DATV, he is an escaped Tevinter slave who's plot revolved around magisters, magic and the structural prejudices surrounding elves in Thedas. Not only that, but he's canonically in Tevinter killing slavers currently so he's geographically in the right place for us to meet him.

About halfway through the game though, it was clear to me: Fenris could never cameo in The Veilguard. Because he'd break it.

How the Veilguard treats Thedas is...odd to me, to say the least. I will be writing another post about how much I adored the expanded big lore in this game (the titans, ancient elves were spirits, where the blight came from etc.) and yet while these large lore expansions worked for me, the actual culture of modern Thedas is entirely softened, its sharp edges filed down until it's a sanitised fantasy world devoid of what made the franchise so vibrant and compelling in the first place.

So let's start with Fenris and slavery. In all three games, the reality of slavery is pushing at the corners of the world. In DAO Loghain allows Tevinter Magisters to enslave elves in order to raise money for his war effort. In DA2 Fenris is fighting to be free from slavers who will not leave him be, let alone the reminders that the city was built by slaves which are everywhere. In DAI one of the two possible mini-bosses is Calpurnia who was a slave, and characters such as Gatt and Dorian both show us how much slavery is tied into Tevinters culture and success.

But DATV the first game actually set in Tevinter where we get to see the famed Minrathous...it's like the game purposefully wants to avoid the issue. I can feel it tilting the camera away to not allow me to see. Slavery is mentioned, but never talked about in depth or as a specifically ELVEN problem in Tevinter. This might have been done to be less problematic, it feels ignored.

We are in DOCK TOWN. We are at the DOCKS. You would think that slaves from all over Thedas who are being smuggled and bought by various groups would be everywhere. You would think that the injustice in dock town would be partly built on the back of ships we've seen in the comics crammed with elves in chains. This is the world Dragon age set up for us. And yet...nothing. zilch. A tiny easily skippable side quest where we free a couple of venatori slaves, but only one of whom is an elf.

None of our Tevinter characters seem to have been influenced by their culture even a little bit when it comes to how they view elves; there is no moment when Neve fucks up and says something prejudiced, no moment when Bellara or Davrin are distrustful of her for being a Tevinter mage.

The same goes for Zevran; a character who epitomised the issues with the crows. The crows have consistently been characterised as very morally dubious assassins who kill for the highest bidder and who buy children on the slave market and torture them as they grow in order to assure that they reach maturity able to withstand torture without giving away a client's name. Zevran is very explicit about the fact that if you fail a contract your life is forefit.

Nobody responds particularly to you if you're an elf. Nobody trusts rook less for it in Tevinter. Nobody treats Rook any differently. Even DAI had better mechanics for this; with nobles in Orlais less likely to trust you as an elf.

Considering one of the main plot points of this game and what makes Solas sympathetic is the fact that he was fighting against the slavery of ancient elves...you'd think the game might want to mirror that in modern Thedas. It might want to show us how characters fighting to end slavery in Tevinter are similar to Solas and how the society Solas fought against was similar to the one that characters we love such as Fenris have fought against in modern Thedas. Maybe we'd want to explore how in a world of slavery like this, how could the answer NOT be to tear it all down? Maybe we should have that option at the end of the game so it really can chose whether we agree with Solas and his plans or not.

Adding Fenris to this game would entirely break the game because Fenris refuses to allow you to look away from this horror. He is a sympathetic character who had to learn to trust mages again because of course he didn't trust them. Of course he didn't. Fenris wouldn't allow the camera to shift focus because he's literally covered in the lyrium scars that show how slaves are used as experiments in Tevinter. Fenris WOULD question Neve on how she feels about elves and slaves. Fenris WOULD have things to say about Lucanis and the crows (let alone the fact Lucanis is an abomonation). So he could never be in this game; he'd drop a bomb on it's carefully constructed blinders to the very society its supposed to be set in.

And yet, in DATV, the crows are presented as...a found family of misfits and orphans? The politician who opposes the crows having absolute power in Antiva is framed as a comically evil idiot who doesn't understand that the crows are ontologically good. Yet...they're NOT. Crows in this game act more like a secret rebel group than an assassin organisation. We see no crow taking contracts with the VERY RICH venatori magisters despite being hired killers. We see crows just refuse to kill people despite having a contract because 'its crueler to leave them alive'. The crows don't feel like the crows here, they feel like a softened version of a cool assassin group who are cool because they wear black and purple.

Our pirate group are also sanitised; the Lords of Fortune are good pirates who only steal treasure that's not culturally significant. Theyve clearly read the modern critiques of the British Museum and have decided to explicitly stop anyone levelling similar critiques at them. There is no faction of the Lords of Fortune who aren't like this, no internal arguments about it. Everyone just. Agrees. And is able to accurately tell what a cultural artifact is vs. what treasure that you can have yourself is. Rather than showing us why a pirate stealing cultural artifacts might be bad (like in da2 where such a situation literally causes a coup and a war) it just tells us it's bad. But also pirates are cool so we still want them in our world.

This issue seaps into Thedas and drains it of any of the interesting complexity and ability to SAY anything that this franchise had before this game. It becomes a game about telling and not showing rather than the other way around. The games have ALWAYS asked questions about oppressive structural systems and their interplay with society, religion and culture and how these things can affect even the most well meaning character. Dragon age at its best IS a game about society and how society functions both for and against it's characters and what happens to societies built on cruelty and indifference. The best bad guys dragon age has given us are those who are bad because they embody these systems or have been shaped by them. Our main characters have had to wrestle with questions surrounding how to exist in these systems, fight against them, learn and grow.

Yet every group you come across in DATV is sanitised and cleaned up to the point of being as non problematic as humanly possible. None of our cast of characters have to wrestle with where they came from or the world that shaped them. None of them have to confront their own biases. They start the game perfectly non-problematic and end it that way too.

And this just...isn't what Dragon Age has been in the past. It isn't why I love the franchise. The whole game just felt, in a way, hollow. And this was a CHOICE and it is why the legacy characters are few and far between. Too many dragon age characters are just too...angry and complex for this game. You can feel them pulling their punches on this one. I have to imagine they did this because they didn't want to be criticised or have too much controversy? But I think it honestly goes far too much in the other direction and just makes it bland.

I can't imagine what I say here will be unique, but it is the basis for a LOT of my other thoughts on this game so I wanted to get it out of the way first. The softened Thedas and characters make this game by far the weakest in the franchise.

[tinybeetiny]

Night Drives: J.W

SMUT | 18+ | MDNI

Im on such a Wooyoung kick… maybe because of his birthday but ffuickckkckc I need him bad fr

->Starring: Wooyoung, Afab!reader ->Genre: SMUT SMUTTY SMUT ->Taglist: @e3ellie @yoonshiiu @yunlazia @jonghoslilstar @sugakooie @atztrsr @honsans-atiny-24 If you don’t see your blog tagged I could not find it so I am so sorry 🥲 also just know I smile and kick my feet reading the responses… I love all of you 🥹 If you would like to be a part of the taglist please fill out this form ->Cw: Fingering, blowjob, road head, please be safe on the roads, two hands on the wheel and both eyes on the road please

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist

Ever since Wooyoung got his license he's been wanting to drive everywhere and anywhere. The grocery store that's just a 10-minute walk? Yup he's going to drive that 3 minutes instead.

The current time is 2:30am and you are driving aimlessly around with your antsy boyfriend. You're pretty sure you're about an hour away from the apartment but neither of you seems to care not when the roads are bare and the music is calming. His hand rests comfortably on your bare thigh, his thumb rubbing circles on your soft skin. You stare out of the window distracted by the passing lights, too distracted to notice his hand sliding further up your thigh. You didn't realize until he was pulling on the hem of your shorts. You look over in his direction to see his calm demeanor as if his hand wasn't moving to brush over your clothed heat. "Woo?" you see him smirk ever so slightly "What?" his look of innocence is a huge contrast to what his fingers were doing. You have to admit the way he looks driving with one hand is definitely a turn-on. His grip on the wheel tightens when you grab his hand and grind against his fingers. You let a little sigh at the feeling but you wanted more "Do you want me to finger you or something?" You look at him with a glare "Do you have to ask that way?" You groan and he just shrugs in response "Yes I want you to finger me" You say before slipping your shorts and panties off.

The filthy sound of your wet pussy squelching fills the car but they're barely audible over your moans "You like that pretty girl? I can tell by how wet you are" You clench around his fingers at his teasing and the way he curls them has you arching off the seat "Oh fuck Woo you're gonna make cum" You breathe out as your head falls back onto the headrest "That's it baby cum all over my fingers" He says before pressing his thumb to your clit. You grip his wrist teetering on the edge of your release and with one last swipe of his thumb, you're tumbling over. The prettiest noises leave your lips as you see stars brighter than the ones in the night sky. Wooyoung's fingers continue to move in and out of you, working you through your orgasm. Your body jolts when his thumb continues to move against your clit. You whine and attempt to move his hand. "Did so good for me" He says as he slides his fingers out of you bringing them to his lips and sucking each digit clean.

You look over to see the tightness in his sweatpants and the need to have him in your mouth takes over. He looks at you with questioning eyes as you unbuckle your seatbelt (I swear if you ever do this i will throw you in timeout so fast that the image of the corner will be tattooed in your brain) and adjust yourself so that you're facing him “Do you want me to suck your dick?” You ask with the straightest face ever “HAH what?” “Do. You. Want. Me. To. Suck. You. Dick?” You emphasize each word and he nods aggressively. His head falls back when you bring hand to palm him through his sweatpants feeling how hard he is. You grab his waistband and pull them down enough for his beard thick cock to spring out, slapping his stomach. You grip the base of his cock, leaning over giving his pretty red tip a little kiss. You hear suck breath in when your finally wrap your lips around his tip.

The feeling of your plump lips moving up and down on his cock was causing him to lose focus. He makes a sudden turning causing you to fall forward a little, his tip invading your throat as you gag. “Oh fuck do that again” he moans grabbing the back of your head pushing you down on him again. He couldn’t help but buck his hips at the feeling of your throat contracting around his cock. The sound of your gaging and lewd slurping made his stomach clench as he inched his way to his release. He lets out deep groans as you bob your head faster loving the salty taste on your tongue “Fuck baby you’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that” his grip on your hair tightens as he shoots ribbons of cum down your throat “fuck fuck fuck oh god. Your mouth feels amazing”

You didn’t realize you had arrived back home until Wooyoung turned the car off “Get upstairs. Wanna fuck you so bad” he mumbles swinging the door open but you grab his arm before he can move “what if… we fuck in the backseat?” Without a second thought, he’s climbing over the seats.

[entitled-fangirl]

Foolish.

Gwayne Hightower x reader

Summary: Gwayne’s wife feels self conscious after birthing their daughter.

Warning: body image issues, smut mention towards the end (there’s not smut but like there is so 18+ please)

A/n: based on an ask from forever ago!!

Masterlist

………………………………………

It had been almost five months at this point, and Gwayne was beginning to worry.

Her body had given him a precious little girl, and he wanted to praise her endlessly for it. Her recovery had went smoothly to his knowledge, no tears or aches from it at this point, and still he wondered why she had not initiated anything with him.

She was most likely skittish. She always had been skittish about this stuff, but he had hoped that she was not regretting their actions now that they had the consequences.

He sat in his solar, his mind plagued by all of these thoughts.

He scribbled at the papers but his mind was entirely elsewhere, and by the time he had to restart a letter for the third time, he gave up. Tossing the pen aside, he stretched out his aching shoulders and legs as he stood up to address the problem itself.

…

Y/n Hightower walked around the room, the babe rested securely in her arms as she swayed.

Her lips pulled up as she admired the babe. The spitting image of her father. Bright fiery hair to match the deep blue irises of her eyes. She was a sight to behold.

But it made her thoughts shift back to Gwayne. And immediately an unease of guilt came with it.

Five months she'd put it all off. The conversation. The rejection she knew she'd receive if she tried.

Before the birth, and before the pregnancy at all, Gwayne had proudly shown off his wife like a prized possession- a perfect thing that would make even the most well off lord jealous. He adored her with everything he had and he was happy to do so.

So pregnancy felt like a death sentence.

If she were to even live, how could Gwayne show off a woman with the scars and marks that she now was marred with?

She had lived, and now she bore the remnants of what their daughter had left behind. Marks of her body stretching, a loosening in her skin, her bones in her hips occasionally requiring attention. She had indeed recovered but she was not as she was before.

And she knew Gwayne would notice it soon.

"And how is our precious gift?" His voice echoed in the room when he stepped in. His hands were held behind his back, a sway to his steps.

"Oh," she sighed. "She's wonderful. Sleeping soundly."

Gwayne stepped behind her, his arms wrapping around her frame. She inwardly cringed. She was so scared of his mind in this moment.

But whatever she worried he may have noticed, he paid no real attention to.

He leaned over her shoulder to kiss her cheek, peering down at the babe. "She is comfortable with you. She knows how safe you are. I believe she feels what I feel."

The woman's brows furrowed. "And what's that?"

His voice whispered in her ear, "That you are the most wondrous woman in the realm, and she and I am grateful for you."

Just like the compliments he used to pay her. It's almost as if nothing changed. But she knew things had changed. So much had changed. It was eating at her.

That, and his wandering hands over her hips.

"Gwayne," she gently chided like she always did when he'd grow handsy.

"Why not? Why can't I enjoy my wife's beauty for a moment?" Hopefully he'd finally get an answer to her avoidance of him.

"You know what I'll say."

He sighed. He did know what she always said. 'Not today.' Not today felt more like a promise to 'Never again.' He hated to push like this, but he was getting nothing to help mend the bond, and he'd do anything to save it.

"You've been feeling well. The babe is asleep. We'll stop when you wish." He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "I just want to admire my wife."

"You don't.”

Her answer was so swift. So sure. She fully believed that he didn't want to admire her pretty form.

"I do," he argued in confusion. He now stepped around to look her in the eye. "I promise you that I do. Why would I lie?"

Her eyes avoided his like hiding a deep secret. She used the babe like a shield, keeping her attention on the young child in hopes that Gwayne would drop the issue.

"Love?" He tried as he head tilted down to catch her eye.

It worked, and her pupils fixed on his. "It's complicated."

"It's not," he reasoned. "There is nothing complicated for us. We love each other about all else." A thought came over him. "Don't we?"

"We… we do," she drew out, almost like a question.

He was growing frustrated. "Please. Lay the babe down so we may discuss something of importance."

"Gwayne-"

"-Do as I say." It was a snap, one that Gwayne had never done to her. Not like that. Usually it was with a teasing grin or a kind smile. This one was of expectance.

She knew this was the conversation she had been putting off.

His rejection of her.

He knew this was the conversation he had been putting off.

Her rejection of him.

The two lovers felt the air around them grow cold as they simply stared at one another. How horrid it felt to be unwanted.

Gwayne was a merciful man. She knew that he'd have the heart to send her back to her father if this is how it would go.

But a life away from her child would be torture.

The destruction of her body. All for what?

"Alright," she mouthed, for no breath came from her lips.

With shaking hands, she placed the babe in the small bed Gwayne had spent the time to fashion himself. She recalled the curses he strung together when he had gained a rather deep splinter and she was the one to pluck it from his skin. And the night they spent after that. Seemed Gwayne liked to be taken care of quite a lot.

But she forced it from her mind. Now was not the time to reminisce.

When she turned from the crib, she saw the tears that pricked at her husband's eyes.

And how her heart screamed.

"Let us retire," he softly suggested. "I'll have someone look after her. Come." He held his hand out.

She took it, though it felt right, she began to question if it truly was.

The walk to their chamber was silent. But it spoke volumes.

Once inside, Gwayne didn't want to wait longer. "Your mind is so plagued. I wish you'd speak."

"Was is there for me to say? You're the one." Her voice quivered at her last declaration, "Just do it. Send me away.”

"Wh-Why would I do such a thing?" He asked in a horrified tone. How could she even think he would let something like that happen? His wife. His bright light.

"Don't pretend you haven't noticed it all, Gwayne. You're wise. You've seen the changes in me. I'm not the same prize you once had."

"Prize? What are you talking about? You're my wife."

"DO NOT PRETEND YOU HAVE NOT NOTICED IT ALL, GWAYNE!" She shouted at him. "I'm different now. And if you do not love me anymore, just say so!"

Gwayne merely gawked. Even if he tried to form words, nothing would have left his throat. Did she really think that? His blue eyes stared at her in confusion.

"Gwayne," she whined. She wrapped her arms around herself. "Say something. Please."

"W- You- I…" He stopped to regain his bearings, taking a deep breath. "I love you."

Her brows furrowed a bit. "You do?"

"Yes!" He almost shouted on accident. "Yes. Of course I do. And you…?"

Now the confusion turned to her. "I… I love you more than anything," she stated as if obvious and he was a fool for questioning so.

His head quirked to the side, then an amused scoff from his lips. His hands found their way to his hips. "Then what are we fighting over?"

"I've changed."

"In what ways?" He challenged.

"Well," her arms gave an over exaggerated shrug, like he should already know what she meant. When his stare continued, she huffed. "Just… my body is different."

"You've recovered well. Haven't you?" What started out as a statement turned to a worried question.

"As much as I can," she remarked. Her self consciousness was showing once again. She wished she didn't have to spell it out for him.

Gwayne's hand reached out to her hip, tugging her lightly to him. It was comfortable. It was normal. He had done it a million times before. "It seems the only fight happening at this moment is the one in your mind." He brushed another stray here from her cheek. "Tell me what fills that head of yours."

Her voice was a whisper as she looked at her husband. "I only think of you."

"And our little girl," he said with a quirk of his lips. "So tell me what thoughts you have of me."

"My body has changed too much for us to be as we were. You'd be so unhappy."

The thumb that was caressing the woman's hip bone paused. "All this because you believe I'd be unhappy with your body? Answer me."

A curt nod.

"You-" He sighed and brought a hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I had a bath set up but I think you need it far more than I. C'mon."

The copper tub sat on the other side of their room. He had ordered a servant to do so prior to him leaving his solar, and that had been a little while ago now that he thought about it.

When he tried to gently push her in that direction, she took offense. "What are you saying, Gwayne?"

"Love, I just meant… " he sighed, "Get in the tub.”

Even when frustrated, Gwayne had never led her astray and she hoped it would be the same now. She stepped to the tub, dipping her hand in to find that it was not cold. A decent temperature.

And when Gwayne went to pull at the laces of her dress, she panicked. "Wait!" She spun around to see his worried expression. Her hands grabbed his wrists. "I don't want to do this."

He frowned. "I've seen you bare before, my love. Many times," he remarked, a grin on his face when her cheeks flushed. "C'mon. Do this one thing for me."

"Was giving you a child not enough?" She sassed back.

He scoffed. "Love. You know what I mean. Let me wash you."

She studied him for a minute. "Fine."

Turning her back around, Gwayne unlaced her bodice and slowly helped her undress. As soon as her soft skin came to his view, he placed soft kisses on her shoulder and up her neck.

The sight of her shift falling to the ground made her stomach twist.

Gwayne knew her so well. Her hands came up to cover herself, but he caught her wrists quickly. He nipped behind her ear. "Get in."

He helped her in, kneeling down at the side of the tub. He took extra care to not look at her body in the water in respect to her. At least for now. His gaze stuck to her face and shoulders. "You foolish girl," he teased sweetly, His fingers grazed over her cheek. "Do you truly believe I'd leave you because your body gave me a child? Hardly. Hardly, woman."

She leaned into his touch.

"May I wash you?" He asked softly.

Her bottom lip tucked between her teeth in thought. A nod.

"Alright." He pulled himself around the tub to kneel behind her, pulling her hair over her shoulder to expose her shoulders and back. When his fingers ran down her shoulder, a shiver moved down her spine, making him smirk. "I dare to say that you've missed my touch."

"I think I have," she admitted.

Gwayne's rough hands handled her gently, rubbing the soap over her arms and shoulders gently before pausing on her chest. A silent question was on the tip of his tongue.

Her head leaning back. That was an answer.

His hand ran over her breasts and he took note of the way her breath caught each time. Swollen with milk for their daughter. It's true that that was different than before, but Gwayne loved it. "So pretty," he muttered under his breath.

His hands moved lower, moving down her stomach and over the small stretch marks across the skin there. He didn't pause. Didn't falter. He continued as if he didn't even notice them at all. He carefully washed her, taking his time and being extra gentle, muttering praises under his breath.

Lastly, his hand ran down the inside of her thigh, moving up to gently graze over her clit. She jumped, but a little groan came from her throat. She grabbed his wrist. "I need you."

Oh how those words affected him.

…

A few hours later, Gwayne massaged the oil onto her shoulders gently, pressing his thumbs into her shoulder blades in a relaxing way. He had massaged all of her at this point, and she was barely awake, the massage and the past few orgasms leaving her out of it.

He kissed her head with a grin. "Thank you, my sweet lady wife. For everything."

She only hummed.

How foolish of them to ever doubt each other.

…………………………………..

[thewitchblue]

"I'm curious about something."

Jason asked you one snowy November. You turned away from your computer to face him with a fond smile on your face. You were working on a case for him by researching the deceased and locating their soul to speak to the victim. He approached you and leaned against the desk. You asked,

"What's up, buttercup? What's on your pretty mind?"

You noticed his hand trying to hold yours, but you turn ghostly to prevent him from touching you. You're a grim reaper, one of several scattered throughout different continents, and very dead. Hurt flashes in his eyes, but he asks as casually as possible,

"Is it true about the embrace of death?"

Well, that's a new thought you didn't expect to hear him ask. You blinked in confusion before answering vaguely,

"I'm a Reaper, pretty boy. Consider me one of the Valkyries from Norse mythology; I'm here to guide souls to their specific place. I don't embrace or kiss the souls. Their soul is often already floating around when I get there. That's why some people experience after-death moments with loved ones. Grandma's last kiss, a child holding their mother's hand, parents embracing their newly orphaned children, little things like that."

You weren't sure how to explain your job in a way that makes sense for the living, but you tried. Jason seemed unsatisfied by your answer, so you asked kindly,

"What did you really want to know, my love?"

He frowned at your ghostly hand. Is it really too much to want to touch his partner? He paused and said after a beat of silence,

"I... want to hold your hand and kiss you, but you always pull away. I want to know why."

You gave him a sad look and softly admit,

"I've never touched a living soul since my death. I'm worried what will happen to you if I did touch you."

He grumbled and offered his father as a sacrificial lamb to find out what happens, but you laughed and softly said,

"If you can stomach Bruce being the first man to ever touch me post-mortem, I'll touch him."

You knew that wouldn't be the case. He huffed and pouted, but softly admitted,

"I want to be the first man you ever touch since your death."

You look at him seriously for a moment. You know Jason would drop the topic if you told him no, but part of you wanted to say yes. You weren't sure if you wanted to let this go. You want to hold his hand on a cold winter day and kiss him thousands of times to make up for lost time.

With great hesitation, you touched Jason's arm. He was warm against your timid hand and so muscular. You slowly run your hands along his arms while watching him carefully. You waited to see if he was feeling anything negative. You weren't sure if you felt his life force leaving him or his pulse racing under your hand as you held his wrist in your fingers.

Jason shivered under your light touch. You were freezing cold, but he didn't feel any different than he felt before. You looked in awe that you could touch a living soul without consequences, and he was so smug.

He had a feeling it would be okay to touch you. He thought it was adorable that you wanted to protect him from your ghostly touch, nonetheless. He was only 87% sure he would have been fine. He didn't know if you could turn your power on-and-off like he hoped and now knew was possible.

You hadn't known people could be this warm. You've been dead for so long, you had forgotten. Souls are cold, so you're never warm.

You grin at him and immediate pull him into a kiss. You could kiss him! His soul isn't being pulled out of him! You were ecstatic. Once you started, you found you couldn't stop.

You gave him thousands of kisses as he chuckled. He's never seen you so happy. You held both his hands in your scarred ones.

Your soul shines in happiness, which makes him grin. He loves you and loves the confirmation you loved him, too. Your soul tells him everything you're feeling, and he's never seen you this happy. It's reassuring to see your love for him pulsing throughout your ghostly spirit. It's like you couldn't keep it in.

Your eyes lit up at the new revolution. You were bursting with love and adoration. You tell him as you held his face in your hands,

"These hands are forever yours. You're going to be stuck with me now onwards."

He laughed at the serious tone and kissed your hands with a grin on his face. The lights in your apartment flicker in response to your happiness, but you can't help it. Your powers charge and pulse when you get emotional.

You murmur as you caress his face in your hands,

"I love you."

You run your fingers through his hair while he buries his face in your neck and wraps his arms around you.

"I know, pipsqueak."

He nips your neck playfully, partially surprised you let him. You kiss his forehead and draw him closer with your arms,

"Good. You deserve to know."

[dalliancekay]

And it is All. Aziraphale's. Fault.

NO IT FUCKING ISN'T HIS FAULT

First of all: I'm pretty sure every time we see Az and Crowley in the past, Crowley is wearing whatever is the height of fashion while Aziraphale wears things that are well made but several decades out. Meaning he is wearing them for a good while. Swapping his clothes around when they become maybe too worn, maybe too conspicuous.

Walking the clean, gas-lit avenues with Crowley and Elspeth, Aziraphale is oblivious to the privilege he has in this world.

Really? Was he born yesterday? He has no idea how the world works?

the angel spouts trite pontifications created by the rich to justify poverty. He genuinely believes Elspeth has more opportunities for goodness.  After all, look at Wee Morag. 

It wasn't invented by the rich. It was 'invented' or used rather by the church that got used by the rich to keep the poor in place. There is no way you can blame Aziraphale for this. All he wanted is for Elspeth not to end up in Hell. Which Crowley wanted too, after he saw how upset it made Aziraphale. That's not fucking wrong. And you can't tell me either that rich have more opportunities to do good. Or that they do so. Or that more of them go to Heaven.

The inequality in humanity? Well, Adam and Eve had nothing. We have caused all this bullshit to ourselves. Nothing to do with Aziraphale. Or Crowley.

He respects her goodness tremendously.  It proves to him his “rightness.” 

Did you mean to say, he's glad she's not heading for Hell.

And so he sabotages Elspeth’s attempt to sell the body she dug up in her attempt to support Wee Morag.  Dalrymple gets no body, Elspeth gets no money, and Aziraphale believes he’s saving her soul.

He WAS saving her soul. Remember? Heaven and Hell being real places you go to when you die in GO?

Selling stolen bodies puts good in the world.  He’s all for it now, and goes back to encourage Elspeth.  Good heavens, he’s even willing to help this time!

Maybe next time try to be a bit more condescending to someone who just learned something new. And IMMEDIATELY changed his mind about it. Plus, Crowley had no idea digging up bodies could be spun to be a good thing either. He was learning just as much as Aziraphale. But I haven't seen one single FUCKING META about how Crowley was completely disinterested in Elspeth and her life. Only in having his usual argument with Aziraphale. Until he didn't. (And as I pointed out, he wasn't right about - you have start people off equal, people did start off equal, we are just assholes)

But, as we know, it all goes wrong.  Wee Morag is shot by a grave gun, and dies of her injuries.  Elspeth steals laudanum, and plans suicide. 

In other words, everyone makes their own choices, things go badly for Wee Morag. Maybe re-watch the ep and see how Elspeth doesn't blame Aziraphale (or Crowley) for what happened. So why do you?

Crowley drinks the laudanum, saves her in a compassionate Scottish frenzy, and is stolen away by hell because of his kindness.  

Is he? Or is he taken cos he sent two guards directly down to Hell, alerting them?

And it is All. Aziraphale's. Fault.

(I deleted what I wrote here)

He considers all of the money he casually spends on fine clothing and expensive tailoring.  He wonders how many lives could change if that money was better spent on helping to relieve the poverty that surrounds him. 

There's absolutely NOTHING in canon to support this. We can HC whatever we want sure, I for example think that Az wears things, as I said above, that are stylish but always out of fashion because it takes him time to find the right things and then he wears them for decades and decades. Because that's what is suggested by the canon, by the care he puts into his clothes and how well loved they are. The fact that 'male' fashion got less flamboyant down the centuries was not Aziraphale's decision. I for example HC too that Azi, when building his bookshop, and using his own, earned money as you rightly say, was spending miracles on making sure his workers didn't injure themselves, that he spent miracles looking after the street urchins in the very poor neighbourhood he has chosen to settle in (as opposite to say Mayfair). And that when Gabriel told him off for using too many 'frivolous miracles' in 1792 he got mad and decided to go to Paris like the stupid angel he apparently is and get, say, ravished by his enemy who would surely find him helpless and not able to save himself in a prison.

What would Crowley do, if he were free to be kind? And so Aziraphale changes.

Yes, because Aziraphale is an asshole who cares about nobody, and nothing, right?

the angel who took too long justifying a life-saving miracle for Wee Morag

Because he's NOT ALLOWED TO INTERVENE.

who hesitated to give Elspeth his 90 Guineas

Do you think he should have just worked and worked and give all his money to poor people? Is that the answer to all the world's problems? Making Aziraphale poor?

willingly and freely gave Maggie forgiveness for thousands of pounds of debt

Why wouldn't he. It's his property and I am sure he lends it to Maggie for significantly less than anyone else would have. Definitely less than those 'gentlemen' in the book who come and try to persuade the angel from time to time to sell his bookshop.

I'd love to know what else he's done over the last 180+ years!

He's been the kind, big hearted angel he always was. Looking after his shop, his tenants and anyone else who he could. Saving babies in prams and making sure shady men never came back. Looking out for Crowley, trying to keep him out of trouble, worrying about him, keeping an eye out to see if he's not doing something reckless. Finding out the demon wants to rob a church, handing him the one thing that could take him away forever with the heaviest of hearts. While of course, Crowley was doing the same thing. Not giving in to Aziraphale's princess act in the Bastille because he knew it would not ultimately end well for them. Understanding when Aziraphale said no to a date in 1967, not surprised since he remembered well what happened in 1941 when they were seen together.

*** YES if Aziraphale did absolutely nothing on the graveyard, Wee Morag would have probably lived a bit longer. How much longer though... and they would very likely end up in Hell, because they would have had to do much more crime down the road. Maybe even get hanged for graverobbing. Also see: Aziraphale just wanted to help. Did you never make a mistake??? He didn't mean to hurt anyone. If he did nothing, he'd never have learned yet another way the world is complicated and not black and white. Crowley was going to do nothing at all, just have a laugh at someone robbing a grave. No one cares. He's a demon. He stopped Elspeth from killing herself and everyone applauds, yes, it is super kind of him, and dangerous for him too, but it is the right thing to do. He didn't want her to go to Hell either.

The people who think they would have figured everything out before any events happened at all...well, good luck in your life.

And people who think Az should have done nothing - okay then. Let's just all do nothing at all, hoping we avoid all the bad things. Also: Changing the world is not done via charity but via changing the society, creating better welfare systems, housing, medical care, education. Those are things one lone angel (and his husband) can't do. And it's not their place anyway. I have like 5 pounds in my bank account (I hope) and yet I am not blaming someone well-off for that. It's the systems that are failing us. Much like the systems failed Aziraphale and Crowley. Putting two wonderful beings through so much pain because - that's how it is done.

And as I have said a million times before, Aziraphale is not learning some morality lesson in GO (HE IS A WONDERFUL, GOOD, KIND, GENEROUS, BRAVE BEING ALREADY), he doesn't need to get off his high horse, he doesn't need to finally 'see things clearly'. He knows how fucked the system he lives in is. He's just trying to help. Even Crowley says (in the book) that Heaven is the better option over Hell. However fucked it is.

Aziraphale learns from Crowley that he can question things, yes. But not in some, oh he's so blind and stuck and deep in some dogma bullshit. NO. He was always told things will happen a certain way. That Earth gets 6000 years tops. That God Herself made a Plan. It may be Ineffable, but it is a Plan.

I'm sorry, if you think you are far smarter than this and you would have figured out that God is telling porkies, good for you, I'm glad such intellects exists.

Because Crowley also didn't know the Plan could be changed until the end of S1. Yes he asked Az to try stop Armageddon but I don't think he really believed they could. He just wanted to give it a go. Cos - well what did he have to lose?

And they did change it. They held Adam's hands and they told him to be himself and when Gabe and Beez wanted to go ahead anyway Az confused them by asking about which Plan said what. So yes, he learns to question things. And he learned that from Crowley. And Crowley? Who was abandoned by the one Being who was always supposed to love him? Well. Crowley looks into those blue eyes and trusts.

The Night That Changed an Angel (or, why does Aziraphale still wear that shabby vest?)

Mini-Meta Musing (#4)

I've been brooding for a long time about, of all things, Aziraphale's worn velvet vest and the long cream jacket he's kept in "tip top condition for over 180 years now." I love the sweet familiarity, but this is the same angel who popped across the Channel and almost lost his fluffy-topped head in 1793 for dressing like an aristocrat.

"I have standards!"

He's the height of elegance, extravagance even. A dandy. We've seen the same at the Globe Theater 1601, Edinburgh 1827, and even as a Knight of the Round Table in 527 Essex, where he's wearing a glorious pelt across his shoulders! However, sometime after Edinburgh 1827, Aziraphale's stylish extravagance ends. He adopts the dress of distinguished but modest gentility. No seamstresses strain their eyes for days hand stitching ruffles and trims for him any longer. When we next see him in 1862, his clothing is refined, simple, and serviceable. It becomes his uniform, with only minor replacements. Why? What happened to change him?

Edinburgh 1827 happened. And his encounter with tragedy ran over his sensibilities like a locomotive.

Aziraphale had, we were told, saved his earnings over time and had bought land, invested wisely, and became quite well off. He used real money, not miracles, to build the bookshop, paying the builders well and taking care of bills honestly. He built himself up to a more than comfortable lifestyle, from nearly nothing. And his clothes are real, not miracled from nothingness like Crowley's. (source: original showrunner)

Aziraphale's wealth allows him to afford luxurious tailoring and fancy shoes and ruffles and trims. He'll certainly pay the cobblers and tailors and seamstresses well for their labors. It will be a substantial expense for the era. (The linked post gives a wonderful perspective on 1793 lifestyles and costs.)

https://agoodflyting.tumblr.com/post/753227014283083776/why-aziraphales-white-satin-pumps-are-ridiculous

The angel's Edinburgh multilayered and trimmed top coat, soft leather gloves, matching scarf, jacquard vest, silk cravat, etc., look entirely out of place in the back alleys where the poor huddle. Walking the clean, gas-lit avenues with Crowley and Elspeth, Aziraphale is oblivious to the privilege he has in this world.

As he strolls along in philosophical banter with Crowley about the "blessing" of poverty, the angel spouts trite pontifications created by the rich to justify poverty. He genuinely believes Elspeth has more opportunities for goodness.  After all, look at Wee Morag.  He respects her goodness tremendously.  It proves to him his “rightness.”  And so he sabotages Elspeth’s attempt to sell the body she dug up in her attempt to support Wee Morag.  Dalrymple gets no body, Elspeth gets no money, and Aziraphale believes he’s saving her soul.

It’s a poignant moment, though, when Aziraphale cradles the jar containing a tumor from a seven year old child who died because there wasn’t enough medical knowledge to save him.  Turning point number one.  It becomes Real, not a philosophical debate.  Selling stolen bodies puts good in the world.  He’s all for it now, and goes back to encourage Elspeth.  Good heavens, he’s even willing to help this time!

But, as we know, it all goes wrong.  Wee Morag is shot by a grave gun, and dies of her injuries.  Elspeth steals laudanum, and plans suicide.  Crowley drinks the laudanum, saves her in a compassionate Scottish frenzy, and is stolen away by hell because of his kindness.   And it is All. Aziriphale’s. Fault.

Turning point number two.  Another watershed moment where Aziraphale’s world changes again.

One of Crowley’s last earthly acts, before getting plunged into hell, is to have Aziraphale give Elspeth all of his pocket money.  What is pocket money to the angel is a fortune to her, one that can set her up for a better life.  I have no doubt that in the aftermath of the traumas of that night, missing and worrying about Crowley, Aziraphale thinks about all of this.  He considers all of the money he casually spends on fine clothing and expensive tailoring.  He wonders how many lives could change if that money was better spent on helping to relieve the poverty that surrounds him.  He wants to help, and to try to make amends for the harm he caused.  What would Crowley do, if he were free to be kind? And so Aziraphale changes.

I’d love to know the story of how it all played out.  Did he sell his fine clothing and donate the proceeds?  Did he become involved in charitable foundations?  Did he buy the clothing of a simple gentleman and decide to preserve it, however worn it became, as a reminder to himself of his past blindness and vanity?  We see in Season 1 how important it is to him to preserve that coat. (Sure, it's also a fantastic opportunity to flirt and flutter those angelic eyelashes... But, nonetheless!)

By Season 2, the angel who took too long justifying a life-saving miracle for Wee Morag, and who hesitated to give Elspeth his 90 Guineas, willingly and freely gave Maggie forgiveness for thousands of pounds of debt. I'd love to know what else he's done over the last 180+ years!

Whatever happened, it began that night in a graveyard.

[alicewrotethis]

𐙚ᣟ݂﹒𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩. 𝟐﹒

ㅤ۫ㅤ ˚ ۪˖𓏲﹒synopsis!! tsukishima  does something he know will come back to haunt him   ㅤ ˖ㅤㅤ۫ㅤ ˚౨ cw!! timeskip k. tsukishima x chubby!fem!reader, nsfw nsfw nsfw   ﹒ ◠ note!!  playlist i listened to while making this !  angst will be in the next part muahahahahaah😼ALSO IT DOESNT LET ME RPELY TO COMMENTS WAA ౨   wc!! 3.5k <<< part one part three >>>

It had been a few weeks since you said those words to Tsukishima, and it's like they're still fresh on his mind. Ever since then, you've been inseparable, well, as inseparable as you can be. You both grew fond of each other's company and grew well as friends, he even managed to break it off with Etsuko; not wanting her to interfere with your friendship any further. He even told some of the guys on his team about you, only after they wouldn't stop pestering him on who the pretty girl was bringing in his lunches in cute bento boxes. He appreciated what you did for him, and he did his best to show it in his own way, he hoped you could feel it as well.

But it all came to a steady stop a few days ago; nothing bad had happened, you just got busy managing your classes and job and you didn't really have enough time to stop by his practices much between running from the college to the bakery then back again. Tsukishima never said anything about it, he knew you were stressed and didn't wanna seem selfish, though, he desperately missed the times you'd spend together. It's not like you never spent any time with him, you'd still go over to his apartment and hed go to yours whenever but either way your face would be stuffed in a book and papers and never just on him.

It started affecting his days as well, not being able to see you- to really see you.

Today was no exception.

You were sitting on Tsukishima's living room floor, papers and books scattered all around you as well as highlighters and pencils, some music filled the background, your combined playlist you made him join on Spotify. It was a sight Tsukishima had grown accustomed to in these past days.

"You alright down there?" He asked, his tone rather gentle as he studied your form.

It took you a minute to reply, wanting to finish reading the paragraph before directing your attention to him, "Yeah, sorry," You let out a yawn as you stretched your back, your shirt lifting a little to reveal more of your skin, something that didn't go unnoticed by Tsukishima. He found himself noticing these small parts of you more often than usual.

"You should take it easy," He spoke softly, standing up and walking over to where you were seated, promptly leaning down to your eye level and neatly sorting your papers into a stack.

"Sorry for the mess, Tsuki, its just your place is so cozy," You watched as he sorted and piled your books and pencils, you watched how his long fingers engulfed the pencils with ease, and you started to wonder how they'd feel on your skin.

"It's practically the same as your place, since, you know, it's the same complex," He teased, placing your things in your bag as you snapped out of your thoughts.

What were you possibly thinking? How could you think that about your best friend? Maybe he was right, maybe you did need to take it easy, all this stress must've been getting to your head.

"Yeah, but in yours, I get to be near you," You hadn't meant anything by it when you said it, but Tsukishima still developed a slight blush on his cheeks. He hated how much of an effect your words had on him, and how easily you could have him flustered.

"Whatever," He spoke, standing up, "You gonna spend the night?" He wasn't sure why he asked, you've never spent the night at his place since you were right next to him, he just wanted to spend more time in your presence before you went back into your usual busy routine tomorrow.

"Of course, we can have a sleepover Tsuki!" You cheered up at him, still sitting on your knees. Despite how innocent the moment was, Tsukishima couldn't stop his mind from drifting.

"Dont say it like that, it sounds lame," He spoke, "Do you want the bed or the couch,"

You huffed, "Your bed is big enough for the both of us, right?" You stood up and walked towards his room, "I mean it is a sleepover, Tsuki,"

His face flushed once again at the thought of sharing the same bed as you, his bed was in fact big enough, but he wasn't sure he could control himself in such close proximity to you, he could barely stand it now.

Tsukishima wasn't oblivious, he knew what a crush was, and he knew what he was feeling resembled one. But he didn't want to ruin what you both shared, he didn't want to be selfish with you. It was a risk he wasn't willing to take.

"Dont call it a sleepover," He sighed, following you into the bedroom.

"Tsuki! I didn't even notice you had glow-in-the-dark stars! That's so cute," You exclaimed, staring up at the dimly lit green stars, you assumed they'd be brighter once the lights were shut off.

"Dont look at them it's embarrassing," He spoke while grabbing his plain black hoodie, and a towel and tossing them your way, "The showers in... well you already know,"

"Thank you," You said shyly as you entered the bathroom that was connected to the bedroom. It made you nervous knowing you'd be showering while Tsukishima was out there.

And Tsukishima was no better, he couldn't help but imagine your bare body, he thought about running his hands up and down your curves gently, showing you exactly how riled up you get him, hearing you say his name, god, the way it rolls off your tongue like a prayer. You drove him absolutely wild. He wasn't sure how he'd get through the night with you next to him.

The sound of the door opening snapped him out of his thoughts, he was sitting up on the bed, facing the bedroom TV on his dresser, watching whatever show was on your shared Netflix recent played, you begged him to join your plan so you could see what shows he liked watching since he wasn't really the talkative type. He liked that about you, he liked that you always wanted to know more about him.

His eyes scanned you up and down, and he could tell that you weren't wearing anything underneath his hoodie.

"Um, Tsuki?" Your voice called his attention, and he raised his brow at you.

"Do you have any spare, uh," You looked away out of nerves, "Panties.." You meekly said, earning a chuckle from Tsukishima.

"Why would I own panties?" He asked in a teasing tone, adoring the way you got shy so quickly. He wished his hoodie was just a bit shorter.

"Well, do you have anything?" Your face was a deep red as you furrowed your brows, not finding the situation as humorous as Tsukishima did.

"In that drawer, the top one," He pointed with his fingers while watching you walk to the dresser, turning your back to him to grab a pair of boxers. Tsukishima tried to keep his eyes from exploring places they shouldn't.

"Close your eyes," You spoke softly, now facing him.

With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, he complied and you swiftly pulled them up, they fit quite nicely against your curves, it covered you but left nothing to the imagination, not that you cared, you just wanted to feel less... bare.

He opened his eyes when he felt you crawl into bed next to him, taking your phone out of the hoodie pocket and opening TikTok. Tsukishima grabbed the remote and turned the TV down a bit, knowing you liked to blast your TikTok's on full volume, he never complained tho, he found your for you page funny.

He felt his phone buzz, it was a notification from you, you sent him a TikTok, "Why are you sending me stuff I'm right here," He said with a smile looking over at you wrapped in the blankets, your head barely peeking out of the sheets to see your phone screen.

"I dont know, quit judging me sassyshima," You mumbled from under the blanket, you promptly shoved the phone in his face as a TikTok played.

"When my boy bestfriend decides to not answer me like I'm one of his hoes," Tsukishima read the words out loud, earning a giggle from you.

"It's so relatable," You spoke, taking the phone away from his face.

"No it's not, youre probably the only girl in my contacts," He said, his eyes never leaving you.

His words made you sit up and face him, "Tsuki, is this an admission that you," You paused dramatically, "Have no game...?" Your arms held you up against the mattress as you leaned in for dramatic effect.

Tsukishima scoffed, "I have plenty of game, I have a pretty girl in my bed right now," He smirked at you, watching as the familiar blush formed on your cheeks.

You crossed your arms against your chest, puffing your chest up unknowingly, "That doesn't count," You mumbled, taking your place back next to him and yawning.

You shifted on your side, your back facing him in an attempt to hide your blushing face, unconsciously rubbing your ass against Tsukishimas leg.

He felt his dick throb at the touch, and he wasn't sure what he should do, he didn't wanna make it awkward but he also didn't want you to think he liked it- which he very much did; but he didn't want you to know that as it might scare you away. but god he knew he couldn't stand it much longer.

Tsukishima instinctively placed a hand on your hip, not even realizing what he had done before you stopped your movements.

"Sorry, I dont know why I did that," He spoke softly, removing his hand.

You were a flustered mess, your heart was beating out of your chest and you were sure he could've heard it from there, you didn't even know you were rubbing against him and you felt bad for it, the ghost of his hand on your hip left a burning sensation, making warm waves twist and turn in your stomach. Was it wrong to think he wanted you in the way you needed him?

"Tsuki?" You asked apprehensively, shifting so you were facing him.

"Fuck, dont say my name like that," He breathed out, already staring at you. His breaths were heavy, and from what the TV illuminated you could tell there was a deep red adorning his face, the sight of him like this had you clenching around nothing.

"Touch me again," You enticingly spoke. The air was thick with tension, and your body felt hot all over despite the cool air floating around Tsukishimas apartment, "Please, Tsuki," You begged fervently.

Tsukishima was fighting battles in his mind, he wanted so badly to take you right here, to show you how badly he's been missing your presence, but he knew that when the morning came you'd both regret it, the friendship would become awkward, he didn't want that, he didn't want to lose you due to not being able to control himself.

"We can't," He said reluctantly, looking everywhere but you.

"Why not?" You whined out, your whines only making his cock twitch in his sweatpants.

"Fuck it," And with those words he was on you, running his hands all over your soft body, moving his hoodie up, and feeling your bare skin.

You let out soft whimpers at his rough touch, he was feeling you like he'd never get to again, as if you'd disappear in an instant and you loved it.

"Can I take it off, baby?" He asked gently, still feeling you everywhere except where you needed him the most.

His question made you cower under his gaze, there was nowhere you could hide so you brought your hands up to cover your face.

"If you dont want to, it's okay, I'll still think you're beautiful," His voice was smooth and intoxicating, it made your mind go fuzzy and all you could muster was a small nod.

His hands came down to the hem of the hoodie and pulled it off you in one swift movement, and though he couldn't see much with only the TV lighting up the room, what he could see he found perfect.

Before his hands could continue exploring your curves you grabbed his arm, "You too," You shyly spoke, earning a smile from Tsukishima. He complied with your demand and swiftly threw his shirt to the ground. You admired his form and ran your fingers along his build, sending shivers down his spine at your touch. You were finally touching the man who consumed all your fantasies.

Your hips unconsciously bucked against his thigh, earning a small moan from you at the friction. "Touch me, Kei," Your tone was laced with sultry, you had a deep need for his touch, you wanted so badly to come undone on him, for him, to him.

He positioned himself so your legs were on either side of him, and his fingers ran down your soft stomach, and down into the borrowed boxers, eliciting a small gasp at the contact. He leaned his head into the crook of your neck and began kissing and licking as his fingers slid up and down your slick puffy lips, coating his digits in your wetness.

You felt him smirk on your skin, "All this for me?" He smugly asked, even in a moment like this he still had the biggest ego.

"Tell me how bad you want me," He demanded in your ear, kissing the soft skin.

"I need you so bad, Kei, so so so bad," You whined, hating how much he was teasing you.

You felt him sink a finger in, and you let out a hushed moan into his ear, causing him to sink another finger in. He felt your grip on his shoulders as he moved his fingers into you deeper, he loved how you felt around his fingers, the feeling had his dick throbbing in his sweatpants, but he wanted to take care of you first, he wanted to feel you cum all over his fingers.

Tsukishima knew he found your soft spot when you became a moaning mess, rocking your hips on his hand and digging your nails into his skin.

"Yeah? Like that baby?" He whispered in your ear, quickening his pace. His other hand ran up your body to massage your breast in his palm, you felt vulnerable under his gaze, knowing he's touched you everywhere, but the thought only made you clench more around his fingers.

"Yes! More, more, more," You repeated in chants, his thumb came to rub around your clit, making your hips jolt up at the sudden sensation.

"I've missed you so much since you've been busy," His pace was steady, and his slender fingers reached places in you you didn't even know existed, you couldn't barely form any sentences as the familiar feeling of your climax crept up on you.

"Missed seeing your pretty face all the time," He praised in your ear, licking his way from your neck to your lips in a hungry kiss, wanting to taste you.

"You gonna cum?" He asked, maintaining eye contact with you as his fingers gradually increased their pace on your clit, the feeling felt like nothing you've ever felt before, it was new, and you were already addicted, his scent was intoxicating and it filled your every pore, you could hear how wet you were.

You nodded profusely, unable to speak due to the loud moans and shrieks that were coming from your mouth, Tsukishima loved the sight of you, a mess all because of his fingers, he couldn't wait to see what you would be like on his dick.

"Look at me, baby, god, I can't get enough of you,"

"'M gonna cum! Tsuki, tsuki, tsuki, please," You were cut off by your own climax, your walls clenched tightly around Tsukishimas fingers as your back arched up into his body, twitching and jolting while he fingered you through your high.

Your clit soon became too sensitive so you wrapped your hand around his wrist in an attempt to halter his movements.

"Tsuki, too much," You whined out, body twitching vigorously.

"Sorry, youre just so pretty," He took his fingers out of you, your walls instantly missing them. You took a minute to regain your composure while Tsukishima slid his sweatpants down and you slid the boxers off.

Tsuki started pumping his dick in his hand that was coated in your cum, the feeling eliciting a low moan. He could've come just by the sight of you.

"Are you ready?" He asked, rubbing his tip against your puffy lips, guiding it to rub against your clit.

You nodded up at him through tired eyes.

"I wanna hear you, baby," He spoke, never losing eye contact with you.

"Yeah, I need you Tsuki," Your voice was soft, exhaustion setting in from your high before.

"That's my girl,"

He guided his tip to your entrance and slowly let it sink into your slick folds, a gasp erupting from your mouth while Tsuki bit hard on his lip, trying to quiet his own groans. It wasn't enough for you though, you needed more of him, and you wanted to take every inch of him.

"More, Tsuki, please," You begged.

His arms were planted on either side of you, holding him up above you, "I don't want to hurt you," And it was true, but a part of him wanted to thrust so deep into you until you took all of him. But this was your first time together, he wanted to take it slow and remember every little sound you could possibly make.

Tsukishima slowly pushed deeper into you and with every inch came a new sound, your fingers were digging into his forearms, and your legs were wrapped around his waist, trying to guide him further into you. The pain felt so, so good to you.

When he finally bottomed out, you felt it, that special spot you had become addicted to him hitting, it felt even better now that you felt fuller.

"Right there, more, please, oh my god," Your back arched upwards and your hips bucked as you started fucking yourself on his dick, you felt him twitch inside of you at the sight.

"Fuck, baby, youre gonna make me cum doing that," He lightly laughed at how desperately you grinded on his dick, his arms moved to your hips, holding them in place and stilling their movement.

"You want more? Huh?" He teased.

"Yes! Stop being mean, Tsuki," You whined, face turning into a frown at the lack of friction.

"Alright, baby, I'll be nice," He smirked before pulling out and thrusting roughly back into you, your eyes rolled back and a shout of pleasure erupted from your throat, your body would've twitched had his grip on your hips not been so tight. He repeated his motion again, only this time he kept doing it at a steady pace. The pleasure sent waves up your spine, you couldn't even think straight, the only thing on your mind was how good Tsukishima was fucking you.

"Been wanting to do this since you made me that cake," He breathed out between moans and thrusts, "You have no idea what you do to me,"

Your hand reached down to your clit but was swatted away and replaced by Tsukishimas fingers, "Such a needy girl, yeah?" It wasn't even processing in your mind what he was saying, all you knew was to agree and take it.

With every thrust, your moans grew louder, every time he hit your soft spot harder and harder, the sounds of skin on the skin filled the room along with your nonsense blabbers about how good he was fucking you.

"Fuck, baby, I'm close," He groaned out, his pace grew sloppier with his thrusts, and his fingers on your clit got faster, "Can I cum inside you?" He asked, leaning down to breathe in your scent.

"Yes, please, please," Your sentence rambled off into noncoherent moans as the familiar knot in your stomach tightened. Tsukishima whispered all sorts of praises in your ear, but one stood out to you.

"Your body is perfect for me, baby," His sentence was enough to drive you over the edge, your walls clamped down tightly around his dick as you let out a shriek of pleasure, chanting his name over and over, it brought Tsukishima to his own climax, and with one deep thrust you felt his cum fill you in warm sputters, his hips bucked through his climax while his head rested on your shoulder, small pants coming from him as he caught his breath.

You both had stayed in that position for a while, seemingly going over what had just happened.

He stood up suddenly, leaving your walls to clench around nothing and you stared up at his glow in the dark stars as he cleaned you off silently

mlist. rules. tags.

© 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ─ please don't copy, translate, or post any of my work without my permission !

tags: @ilovemymomscooking

<< part one part three >>>

[buck-star]

Marshmallow lover | B.B & S.R

>> Bucky comes home from a mission, flashbacks are brought back. But luckily you know what Bucky needs to clam down. Not only you and Steve but also hot chocolate. <<

Pairing: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes × Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Girlfriend!Reader

Wordcount: 2.852 Words

Warnings: poly-relationship, m/m/f, established relationship, anxiety/panic, mention of punching), nicknames (babydoll, princess, majesty), fluff

Authors Note: Reposted because I accidentally deleted the other one. Dedicated to @mercurial-chuckles. Cause you asked for Stucky, hehe. I had another idea but I just haven't had enough motivation or ideas to write it. So I hope you like that one anyway. Divider made by me.

Events: Stucky Bingo [SB6010 | B3 | Writing Format: second person + November Prompt: Home I @stuckybingo], Steve Rogers Bingo [SB4054 | C3 | Free Space | @steverogersbingo]

Masterlist | Stucky x Reader Masterlist

It was one of these early winter days, where the weather wasn't too cold but you could already feel the breeze the winter was bringing with itself. The air was cool; your hands would have been ice blocks already, but luckily your boyfriend was holding one of them, and the other has been stuck in your pocket since the two of you left the house.

Actually, the two of you thought about staying home until Bucky came home — from the mission — in the evening. But when Bucky told you that he wouldn't be home before the late evening, Steve decided to force you in a loving way to go shopping with him. He knew you loved decoration, so it was the best opportunity to make you leave the house and have some fun with him. Otherwise, you would have sat in the hallway, watching the front door until Bucky walked inside.

It happened once, and both of your men made sure that they would distract you if the other one was on a mission and came home late. Of course, they understood why you acted like that; it was weird to have one of you not in bed at night or missing at the table during meals. Even watching television was different if one of them was on a mission — which didn't happen often anymore.

But after the last time you refused to leave the spot in the hallway unless you had to use the bathroom, Steve took you shopping this time. And luckily, he managed to get your mind off of the fact that Bucky could be injured when he came home. Even though you seemed distracted, Steve felt a little restless; he knew you felt the same, but he just hoped the decoration was distracting enough for you. Little did he know that you hoped the same for him, because deep down, you wanted to return home to make sure that Bucky was fine once he came home. But you tried to calm yourself; Bucky could call you once he was home, and he could take care of himself for a bit too. Plus, he sometimes even enjoyed having a moment just for himself after some missions.

When you had some items you wanted and were happy with, you and Steve made your way back home. It was just a short walk, but the later it got, the colder it was. You were shivering, and Steve's strong arm around your waist and his muscular body pressed against your side didn't help much to warm you up. “You know, my tooth...” you chuckled softly, moving them inside your shoes even though you didn't really feel them because of the cold anymore. “They are pretty cold. Guess they would fall off if I bumped them.”

“Then we get you home pretty fast. Don't want your toes to fall off. Bucky wouldn't like that either," Steve joked, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your hair. The two of you didn't talk much; there was no need. It was just the closeness to one another, the happiness and love that you felt whenever you were close to your boyfriends. So you just walked quietly along the streets with him, the sky slowly darkening, and you were glad you were almost home already.

After a few more minutes of walking, you finally walked into the warm house. It was almost a burning feeling on your skin, and you hissed softly. Steve had to shove you into the house, or else you would probably have walked backwards and out of the warmth back into the cold. He chuckled behind you, his calloused hands holding you by your waist before pushing you further into the hallway so he was able to close the door behind you.

“It's warm, isn't it? Maybe it’s because you're surrounded by such hot men.” Steve laughed softly, taking your jacket, before he took off his own jacket and shoes. You narrowed your eyes when you walked further into your house, looking around to find Bucky. You were sure he was home; his shoes were in the hallway where they belonged. But instead of your boyfriend coming immediately to greet the two of you, he was nowhere to be seen. Steve's voice interrupted your thoughts before you could even start to worry. “Maybe he's in the bedroom; he loves showers after a mission. While you look for him, I'm gonna make some hot chocolate for us.”

You nodded, pecking Steve's lips softly, before you turned away to walk to your shared bedroom. You didn't hear any noises, neither the shower nor Bucky looking through the wardrobe to find something comfortable to wear. You tried as best as you could to not worry about him. Bucky was sometimes pretty quiet, especially after missions. It was almost like he had to get used to home again to know he wasn't on a mission any longer.

The door of your bedroom was almost closed, but you saw a little part of the bed, the small bedside table, and a hint of something else — feet. Or it was more the toes that were curled, like they were the only part that was holding him grounded. You pushed the door open, looking to the side where Bucky was sitting. Your eyes widened as you saw him curled up into himself. His knees were pressed against his chest, his hands properly bruising his skin already, while his eyes were unfocused. Bucky was just staring into the air with a fearful expression on his handsome face.

You slowly walked closer to him, unsure what to do. Sweat was running down his forehead; even his hair was sweaty, and his clothes were stuck to him like a second skin — soaked in sweat. You're not sure how long he was sitting there like that; his teeth gritted, his jaw clenched, and you noticed his other muscles being more visible than usual through his clothes. Bucky was tense like he was still in a fight, and in a certain way he was — but instead of fighting against some people like Hydra, he was fighting his own battle with himself, with his fear in his mind.

“Bucky?” You asked softly, your voice just above a whisper when you kneeled down in front of him. There was still some distance, so he wasn't able to reach you if he would punch or kick. You have seen Steve in such situations with Bucky before; he had to take the one or another punch already — which caused Bucky to feel even more guilty after. But Steve always assured him that it's not as bad as it looks and that it would never change anything about the way he feels for Bucky or sees his boyfriend. And even though he never hurt you, Bucky was always sorry that you had to see him struggling so much with his nightmares and flashbacks from the past — you never judged him; you only loved him more when he couldn't love himself.

Bucky didn't react when you called him by his name. His fingers only tightened around his legs. You wanted to reach out, but you know you shouldn't. Bucky once had his hand around Steve's throat the moment his fingertips brushed along his lover's leg. And you knew Steve was stronger than you; he had struggled to get the other super soldier off of him, so you were pretty sure Bucky would crash you before you could even call for Steve. And both told you to never call Steve for help; they trust and love you, but they were too worried about you — and Bucky would never be okay with himself again if he would hurt you. And you understood it.

After another time calling him by his name but getting no answer, you sigh softly. Tears slowly formed in his eyes, rolling down his cheeks, and everything inside of you screamed to wipe them away, to pull him into you, but you were too afraid to scare him even more. So, you decided to make the only thing that came as an alternative solution to your mind — Steve.

From the time you walked into the bedroom to the moment you got up to walk to the door and shout for Steve, only a few minutes passed. But for you, it felt like at least twenty minutes, not being able to help Bucky and not wanting to leave his side while you tried to come up with something that could help without Steve's help.

You opened the door of your shared bedroom a bit more, looking out into the hallway. “Steve!” You shouted, earning immediately a soft ‘Yes.’ from him. He was still making the hot chocolate, but he was worried the moment you shouted his name instead of coming into the kitchen with Bucky. “I—I need you here. Or Bucky needs you... WE NEED YOU.”

Steve would have chuckled about your wording, but he knew that this wasn’t a situation to laugh about. He immediately turned off everything that could burn. His footsteps were loud and heavy when he walked to your shared bedroom. He noticed you looking out of the door, narrowing his eyes when he didn't see Bucky close to you. The big grump was actually holding you close, hugging, carrying, or kissing you the whole time. But right now, it was only you who waited for him to come to the bedroom.

"Where's Buck? Are you okay? Did he… What's wrong?” Steve asked, not even letting you a moment to answer. You brought your hand to his cheek, stroking it softly before giving him a slight, soft smile. He knew you didn't feel like you tried to show, but he knew you did it to calm the two of you down. It wouldn't help any of you to freak out or be more worried. After a moment, you take your hand away, taking a step to the side, and letting Steve walk into the room.

“He doesn't react when I talk to him. I-I don't know what I can do, but you... You trailed off, watching Steve's eyes widen as he saw your boyfriend looking like a lost puppy. You watched him walk over to Bucky, pulling you with him before Steve pushed you to sit down on the bed, and he kneeled down in front of Bucky. Steve was way closer than you were earlier, and you pulled your knees up, hugging them while you watched your boyfriends intensely. “You know what to do, right?”

Steve nodded, smiling softly. He turned his head back to Bucky, placing his hand on the brown-haired man's knees. Bucky hissed; his metal hand shot up to place a punch into Steve's pretty face, but he caught Bucky's hand. Steve held Bucky's hand tightly, trying to force his hand back down, and after a moment it even worked. You watched them with slightly parted lips; when did Steve find out how to catch Bucky's hand — especially his metal hand?

“Buck, it's me. It's Steve. You're home; do you hear me?” Steve asked, his voice soft. He ran his thick fingers slowly up and down the side of Bucky's thigh. He leaned a bit closer; his other hand was still holding Bucky's metal hand, and you wonder if Bucky was trying to punch him with his other hand but he didn't. “You're home, with me and our princess. You know, your babydoll.”

Bucky gasped softly, his eyes wider than before. His hands made grabbing motions, and Steve smiled softly, feeling Bucky being less tense than he was just a moment ago. Steve let go of his boyfriend's metal hand, using his hand to wipe away some sweat from Bucky's forehead.

“Hi, Buck,” he chuckled. Bucky slowly calmed down, noticing his surroundings. Bucky was slowly letting go of his legs, stretching them slowly between Steve's legs while his head fell forward against Steve's shoulder. “You're home; we are home. We got ya. Scared our princess a bit.”

“My babydoll?” Bucky's voice was hoarse and quiet, but Steve understood him anyway. He slowly nodded, caressing Bucky wet strands. Steve then turned his head to you, nodding at Bucky and mouthing that he just asked for you before he even asked anything else. “My babydoll, my Stevie.”

“We’re here, Buck. Do you want her to come closer as well, or do you need a moment?” Steve asked softly. He knew — you both knew — that Bucky was still pretty shaken up and that he could use some time to calm down or that he needed to feel the two of you, to smell the two of you, and to see the two of you to calm down completely.

Since the brown-haired man didn't really trust his voice, he only lifted his hand, making a grabby hand into the direction of the bed where you were still sitting. His other hand was interlaced with Steves, holding him close to Bucky. You slowly moved down from the bed; your knees were cracking softly when you stretched them out, and Steve laughed softly.

“Thought we were old, but you're cracking just like we do,” he told you, smirking before he moved a bit to the side to make space for you in front of Bucky. You rolled your eyes, moving closer to Bucky, but before you could have even said anything or moved another inch, he pulled you into his lap. You were straddling his thick thighs, your chest pressed against his.

Bucky hid his face in the crock of your neck, pulling Steve against his side so the two of you — the two people he loved the most, who meant everything to him — were as close as possible to him. After a moment of comfortable silence, he lifted his head. He was still sweaty, but his ocean blue eyes were brightened, and the sparkle you and Steve loved so much were visible again. A soft smile was tugging at Bucky's lips, causing you to smile as well. He leaned closer, pecking your lips before he did the same with Steve, sighing softly.

“Hi,” he chuckled, resting his head on your shoulder once again. “Missed you two. Do I smell hot chocolate?”

Both you and Steve laughed softly. When it came to hot chocolate, especially with marshmallows, you had to be faster than Bucky, or else he — accidentally — drank everything before you even reached the kitchen.

“Mhm, it’s probably cold again, but I can warm it up while you get a shower, sweaty,” Steve teased, using the nickname on purpose instead of ‘sweety’. Bucky rolled his eyes, growling softly, but he then nodded. Steve wasn't wrong; he felt like he had already taken a shower, but this time with his own sweat. “We got some marshmallows, and our princess got a lot of decorations.”

You nodded; your eyes lit up as you opened your mouth to start and explain what you got and why you got it. Bucky chuckled, loving your excitement. But he wanted you to show him and explain it while the three of you would be sitting wrapped up in a blanket on the couch with hot chocolate and marshmallows. So he pressed his lips onto yours before you could even start to tell him more about it.

“But I'm taking my babydoll to take a shower with me,” Bucky grumbled, and there he was again. Your Bucky, the love of your and Steve’s lives who never let go of you, who needed to be close to you, needed to kiss you and just show you all the love and affection. Of course, he did the same with Steve too, but he had another task, so it was you who was going to join him in the shower. “Plus, need her to wash my hair. Feels so much better when she massages the shampoo into my hair with her soft hands.”

“Of course you do,” Steve chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to Bucky and then your forehead before he got up to get the chocolate ready. Bucky opened his mouth, but Steve turned around, smirking at him. “Yeah, with as many marshmallows as you wish, my majesty.”

“Good boy.” Bucky grinned at Steve, who suddenly blushed and turned away. “Mission completed, making Stevie blush. Now, my next mission is to get you into the shower with me. Mhm, missed you. I love you so much, babydoll. And you too, Steve, I know you're standing in the hallway.”

“I love you too,” you say in unison with Steve, who then made his way down the hallway back to the kitchen. Bucky got up, keeping you in his arms before he walked with you to the bathroom, getting the two of you into the shower. It wasn't just cleaning him; it was a lot more Bucky being possessive and touch-starved, and you were his solution — you were gladly his way to get touches and be happy when it meant kisses, hugs, soft touches, and all the compliments you loved so much to hear from your boyfriends.

Taglist: @pono-pura-vida @sergeantbarnessdoll @rogersbarber @kimmie113080 @sebastianstanisahotmf

[annaseidr]

I don't think that we appreciate Viktor's plan enough. It is my firm belief that not only did he want to erase Hexcore and himself from existence, but also do some good in the process.

It was established that Hexcore found a way to corrupt the very water, spreading like a disease and infecting the environment. What this means is that by simply killing Viktor Hexcore problem wouldn't be resolved as wild rune remains and will lead to catastrophic consequences in the long run. Only Viktor himself could defeat Hexcore by consciously making the choice to destroy it. And Jayce was the only one who could make this outcome happen - he very well knew about it and the power he had, armed with Viktor's own feelings.

So the question remains: why did Jayce wait till the very last possible moment to show Viktor the power of love? He didn't try to earnestly talk to him even once, and always looked like a person set on a mission throughout. He also seemed to know the outcome of some encounters beforehand.

For instance, when Viktor is entering Hex vault? Jayce isn't even trying to attack Viktor here or be on a defensive, as if confident Viktor would do nothing and just walk by.

And of course this scene, where Jayce kneels by his weapon and closes his eyes, resigned for what is about to happen.

It is my opinion that Jayce had a pretty good understanding of the future events and his role in it, which leads me to believe that the severe escalation of Viktor's evolution, leading to the final fight, was necessary.

I honestly feel like animators did an amazing job showing how incredibly hard it was for Jayce to straight up crush Viktor time and time again, especially when knew about Viktor's feelings and realised himself that those were reciprocated. Can you imagine the pain Jayce must have felt? Killing the person he loved, warping them into something monstrous and even then, at his worst, Viktor was anything but indifferent to Jayce, and him alone.

But if it weren't for Jayce shooting Viktor the first time, Viktor wouldn't lose his faith in humanity(Jayce) and agree to move on with Singed's procedure. It was stated that his power was finite, so I would speculate that Jayce didn't even try to persuade Viktor because he knew that even if he succeeded either Savior Viktor didn't possess enough power to stop Hexcore, or he died in the process. Neither of those options resolve anything, since Hexcore remains in the world, therefore it was necessary to trigger Viktor's evolution to the Machine Herald form.

So why then Jace yet again isn't trying to convince Viktor in the Council room encounter afterwards? Viktor was even the one who came forward, wanting to talk and bearing news of the hostile intentions of the Noxian. But that's just it, if Viktor were to concede this second and destroy Hexcore, it would still leave completely disorganized Piltover and Zaun facing oppressing Noxian forces. It is only after Jayce rejects and "kills" him once again that Viktor lashes out and completes his evolution. And as a result, it gives a perfect common enemy to unite forces against, which finally brings Piltover and Zaun together.

We shouldn't forget that Viktor shared Jayce's dream to bring magic to people and improve lives. But they brought an impossible anomaly that was destroying the world and not saving it. So is it so far fetched to assume that after witnessing countless timelines and possibilities, knowing all the details and nuances, Viktor and Jayce wouldn't try and create the plan to maximize the good while destroying Hexcore at the same time?

I think this is exactly what Viktor and Jace would do..