#this woman? having to deny a part of said desires for her entire life? the contrast is DELICIOUS to me

[the-eclectic-wonderer]

I always think about how in multiple episodes it's basically canon that Blanche is bi but considers dating women to be more hassle (which is a whole rabbit hole to go down - does she struggle with societal homophobia when she's with women? Has she only been with fellow high maintenance femmes when shes really after a Dorothy type? Has she internalized the idea that her attraction to women isn't 'real'? Her reaction to Clayton adds to these questions). Not to mention how this goes together with her relationships with the girls; making to kiss Rose that one time (and Rose multiple times seeming very aware of Blanche's proclivities), begging Dorothy for 'relief' and being convinced she's attracted to women too.

Yes, anon! It’s really interesting to delve into Blanche’s psyche about all this stuff!

I started writing down my thoughts and ended up with a long ramble -- allow me to place it all under a cut, so I don't clog up anyone's dash, haha.

Personally, I think she has some strong mental blocks when it comes to her sexuality because of the way she was brought up. I mean, she grew up in Atlanta approx in the 1930s/1940s — I’m sure I don’t have to detail the kind of casual bigotry she must have seen around her during her formative years! Just look at the story she recounts in S1E13 A Little Romance:

“Now, you have to understand that in those days in the South a lot of things were still taboo. Certain people were not to mix. So Benjamin and I had to meet in secret. Oh, we knew if any of the bigots in town found out about us, there’d be a terrible scandal.”

And all of this because Benjamin was a yankee… can you imagine what ‘the bigots in town’ thought about homosexuality? Yeah, I’m pretty sure Blanche learned to suppress that part of herself very early on. We know she turns to denial when she’s faced with uncomfortable truths and emotions she can’t deal with, so I think she likely just refuses to acknowledge that part of herself most of the time, and it only comes out (pun intended!) when she’s not paying much attention to things, or when there’s something more important going on. See the two examples you point out: when she tries to kiss Rose she’s concerned with not being kissed at midnight, and when she propositions Dorothy she’s, well… she’s desperate to get some, if we can be frank.

When she’s in a more rational state, her reactions tend to be more measured… but not by much. She does advise Rose not to date women (S3E10 The Audit):

“Oh, no, honey, don’t do that! No job is worth having to date women!”

But she’s also really flattered at receiving lots and lots of phone calls from women, after her appearance as a ‘lesbian’ on TV (S7E15 Goodbye, Mr Gordon):

“By the way, Dorothy, if I were a lesbian, I sure would be a popular one. Look at this, 20 calls.”

And of course we can’t forget her reaction to finding out that Jean has a crush on Rose in S2E5 Isn’t It Romantic?:

“Jean has the hots for Rose? I don’t believe it, I do not believe it! […] To think Jean would prefer Rose over me? That’s ridiculous! […] Now you tell me the truth: if you had to pick between Rose and me, who would you pick? Who?”

All of these are (likely) intended to be jokes about her vanity and her libertine nature (in the same way as Rose’s observations are), but considering a lot of the writers of this show were queer themselves, it wouldn’t seem strange to me if they were intentionally peppered in to suggest that Blanche might be a bisexual in denial. It certainly fits her character!

I haven’t spoken about her reaction to Clayton’s coming out yet, but that’s immensely interesting too, of course. I think Blanche has the same attitude towards homosexuality that I see in a lot of (mostly older) people in my Country nowadays: it’s fine as a general concept, but when it comes to her family (or, God forbid, herself) then the problems come out. See for example what she says about Jean:

“Well, I’ll never understand what Jean doesn’t see in the opposite sex, but if that makes her happy, that’s fine by me!”

Which isn’t a homophobic attitude at all! If anything, if you take her upbringing into account, it’s pretty accepting. But then, when Clayton comes out to her (S4E9 Scared Straight) and tells her he wants to get married (S6E14 Sister Of The Bride), this is what she says:

“Oh, Clayton, please be serious. You're just saying that so I won't set you up with any more women. […] Well, then you're saying it 'cause you're trying to get back at me for something. Clay, I know you too well for this. After all, I know it can't be true. You're my brother. […] Clayton Hollingsworth. You look me in the face and tell me you really are… what you just said you are.”

“I'm having a little trouble putting this all together. Clayton, I just feel like I don't know you anymore.”

“[…] Dorothy, that's different. We're talking about going out in public. Oh, what are people gonna say?”

“Will you tell me why you want to put yourself and Doug through this? You know how people can be.”

“Oh, look, I can accept the fact that he's gay, but why does he have to slip a ring on this guy's finger so the whole world will know?”

Quite the difference from her attitude towards Jean, wouldn’t you say? I think there’s three elements at play here.

1) When Clayton comes out to Blanche, she feels disoriented because this is life-changing information Clayton has never shared with her before. While her reaction as a whole isn’t ideal, personally I think it’s understandable. Clayton is her baby brother; she’s known him as straight all his life, he’s been married to a woman for years before his divorce, and she recounts an episode from their adolescence when he was on a date with a woman and very clearly implicated having a physical encounter with her. He's done everything in his power to pass as straight until this point in time -- I don't find it strange that Blanche would be shocked at his coming out, especially given her upbringing (and the fact that this is set in the 80s! We can't expect modern sensibilities from the characters!). Once again, her reaction isn't the best (she can't even bring herself to say the word 'gay' at first...), but the shock per se isn't that surprising, imho.

2) Blanche is scared because of societal implications above all. She doesn't necessarily see being queer as something wrong, but she's been taught it's not socially acceptable and acts accordingly. Notice how she's worried about what people are going to say, and she struggles to accept that Clayton wants the whole world to know about his relationship with Doug.

Societal expectations in general are a big theme for Blanche's character, and often drive her development; another big example of this is her attitude towards Rebecca's decision to get artificially inseminated, but it's a bit of a baseline issue for her, I feel. She has this whole thing about her beauty and her (supposed) youth and her attractiveness that has some inherent elements, but it's mostly an issue of how other people perceive her, I think, and her response to her brother's coming out is easy to relate to this theme. I mean, she even says it to Rose in S7E15:

"Well, I don't mind being labeled a lesbian, honey, but since I'm not, you just ruined my social life."

So yeah. I think it's safe to say her main concern is societal disapproval of queerness: she wants to be accepted and celebrated by the people around her, and she thinks that being openly queer will destroy her place in her social circle (and she's worried about the same happening to Clayton too, of course).

3) This is sort of related to point 2, but it felt distinct enough to treat it separately. I think she might have reacted so badly to Clayton's coming out (and especially to his showing up with a partner) because he's open about his sexuality, and she's not ready to face what that means for her. My lovely mutual @\hecatesbroom recently published her latest amazing work the odd one(s) out, on the relationship between Dorothy and her brother Phil and how Phil's open queerness might have impacted Dorothy; I think a similar situation might have occurred between Blanche and Clayton after his coming out.

Blanche has a sort of advantage on Dorothy because of her bisexuality, in the sense that she has 'passing privilege' (I really dislike this concept, but allow me to use it to make a point): it's painfully clear that she loved her late husband with all her heart, and she's obviously attracted to men as well, so she can pretend not to like women without too much of a hassle (whereas, if you believe Dorothy to be a repressed lesbian, her situation is much more complicated).

The issue with this is that this 'advantage' is a double-edged sword: she might have the comfort of being socially acceptable, but she's had to suffocate a big part of herself to obtain that comfort. And so, what happens when Clayton -- her baby brother Clayton, the one who's always been just like her, who's grown up with her same environment and influences -- begins openly living as a gay man? I'm sure the situation must have had a strong impact on her, even if just on a subconscious level; I've always found it curious that she seems to have a harder time accepting Clayton in S6E14 than she does in S4E9 (she even calls his sexuality a phase), and while a part of it may be attributed to the higher social exposure Clayton's commitment to Doug brings, I think this may be a result of her inner conflict, provoked by watching her brother live openly while she's been suppressing a part of herself all her life.

Here I'm assuming she's never acted upon her attraction to women before, but there's some space to believe she has done so and has decided it's too much of a hassle, as you say -- likely because she'd for sure do it in secret, given her fear of societal condemnation. If she has been with women before, and decided to give up on it, I still think she'd be greatly impacted by Clayton's coming out: it means her baby brother is a) braver than she is, and b) going to openly face (and likely suffer because of) the same social issues she's run away from. In this lens, I find it interesting that she cautions him about how people can be, almost as if they've both experienced it.

Whew. Wow, this was a lot more than I'd originally meant to write, haha! Seems you sparked a big train of thought, anon! I think all of the Girls (with the possible exception of Sophia) are really fascinating to analyze with a queer lens, and Blanche is always interesting to me, of course. As a final note, I'd like to point out that she does come around to Clayton's sexuality and his relationship, in the end: as often happens, she just needs the Girls' help to put things back in perspective, understand she's hurting someone she loves, and correct her actions. I'd like to think living with the Girls might lead to her becoming more accepting of herself, too.

[bwabys-scenarios]

Kurapika can’t stand being away from you, his cute chubby girlfriend. You’re his everything, the only person that makes him feel complete and whole.

Before, Kurapika could hardly call himself clingy, but after meeting you he can’t deny the allegation. All he wants to do is cling to you as tight as possible, basking in your love and affection.

When he’s down, you comfort him, letting him lay his head on your chest or soft tummy while you play with his pretty blonde hair. His nightmares are frequent, and he often wakes you up in tears, begging to be held and to know that you won’t leave him all alone.

You’re so soft, a comfort that Kurapika has denied himself for so long. He wouldn’t let himself have those simple comforts, thinking he didn’t deserve it. But how could he deny you, his beloved? Warm, kind, and ever so soft. So curling up with you and getting to nestle against your plush frame after a hard day is more than enough to have him sighing in contentment.

One thing Kurapika enjoys is feeding you. Whether it be sweets, savory foods, or some kind of fruit/vegetable, he swoons when you make a happy face as he places something delicious to your lips. Plump women were desired in his clan, and making sure your significant other was well fed and happy was a way to show you cared.

So his pretty cherub eating from his hand, smiling and happy was all he wanted. Getting to lick up any of the mess was also… very satisfying.

Kurapika had once thought he’d spend his life alone, with no one there to love or accept him for who he truly was… but then he met you.

Already, he was attracted to your plump form and cute chubby cheeks, but you were endlessly kind and understanding, always sitting with him after he drank himself stupid and patting his back while he threw up.

Sometimes, the survivors guilt made simply existing a sin to him. Why did he get to keep living after his entire clan was wiped out? He wondered if everything would stop hurting if he just left this world and joined his kin in the afterlife…

But then he’d remember you and realize that if he stopped living, he would never feel your warmth again. He would never get to hold you tight to him, never get to hear you laugh and giggle when he said something that wasn’t supposed to be funny, but made you laugh anyways. He’d never get to teasing pinch your chubby cheek when you messed up and scold you, making those cute cheeks heat up until he felt the urge to coo and gently caress them.

And most importantly, if he died, he’d be leaving the woman he adored behind. That’s when he realized he had fallen for you, and that nothing could separate him from you, not even his own depression and pain.

So Kurapika decided to live for you until he could learn to live for himself, and living for you and everything so easy and sweet.

He spoiled you, taking you shopping often, getting you custom made clothing when the items in store didn’t come in your size or fit like they were supposed to. Any little thing you asked for was yours, and he quite enjoyed getting to see you all dolled up for him.

Especially when he got to take it all off and make love to you after a romantic date together.

Getting to fuck into your warm, fat pussy and hold onto your plump thighs as you writhed and moaned beneath him really made Kurapika glad he stuck around. Otherwise he wouldn’t be cumming inside his princess, filling her chubby tummy to the brim with his seed.

Suckling on your pretty breasts, covering your neck in his love bites and marking you as his makes him feel at ease. Although he feels a bit bad watching you put on a scarf to hide all the marks he left, part of him is proud. You’re his little cherub, and no one else can have you.

The only thing that could ever make him love you more would be the sight of your already plump tummy swelling with his child.

Kurapika wants to take care of you for the rest of his life and provide you a comfortable life. He adores you, you’re all he has left. And when you only have one thing left, you treat it with the utmost care, don’t you?

[queenshelby]

Forbidden Desire (Part 24)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest, Smut

Please comment and engage xx 😘

As Tommy stood there, watching you leave the ceremony, his heart clenched in a way it never had before. He wanted to chase after you, to tell Lizzie that this was a mistake, but he couldn't. The weight of obligation and responsibility kept him anchored to the spot, bound by the promise he had made. 

He had contemplated his options all night long, haunted by the memory of your lips on his and the way your body had felt against his own.

He was restless and as the priest kept on talking, he couldn't even focus on the words anymore. All he could think about was you, his niece - his forbidden love, and the life that they could never have together.

His body was tense, and his mind was absent when the priest as for his vows, Tommy simply looked at him, silently, causing the priest to repeat the question.

"Do you, Thomas Shelby, take Lizzie Stark to be your wife, as long as you both shall live?"

Tommy's gaze lingered on the priest for a long moment, his thoughts racing and conflicting emotions crashing over him. Finally, he swallowed hard and spoke up, in a strong, steady voice.

"Lizzie, I am forever grateful for your love and the life you've brought into mine, but I can't fucking marry you," Tommy said, with a serious look on his face but without an apology.

The entire church fell silent as the words sank in and Lizzie stood there, blinking slowly, her vows falling from her hands.

The look of shock and hurt on Lizzie's face made Tommy's heart beat quickly. Never before had he been so brutally honest about his feelings, but he could no longer deny what was inside of him anymore.

"Tommy?" Lizzie gasped softly, her hand reaching up to her throat in surprise. "What do you mean you can't marry me?" she asked, her words barely above a whisper as her heart raced in her chest.

Tommy shook his head, guilt etched into every line of his face.

"I am sorry Lizzie, but I can't do this. I thought I could, but I can't. There is a woman whom I love, and this woman is not you," he told Lizzie as her eyes filled with tears and she trembled from head to toe but she stood there, silent, unable to gather her thoughts.

The priest looked horrified as he watched the drama unfolding, not knowing what to do next.

Meanwhile, outside the church, you had heard Tommy's words and your heart sank.

You leaned against the cold stone wall, trying to catch your breath. Your heart ached within your chest as you realized that his words were about you.

But even as relief washed over you, guilt quickly followed. You knew that this was impossible, the attraction between you and Tommy - a love and desire that went beyond accepted norms, meaning this could never be.

"It's this fucking whore, isn't it?" you heard Lizzie scream through the thick walls of the church as her voice trembled with anger. "Your own fucking n...," she began to say but was immediately cut off by Polly who had rushed toward the couple on the alter the moment she had heard Lizzie's outburst.

"Now is not the time, nor the place, Lizzie," Polly said sternly, shielding Tommy from the wrath of his jilted bride as she was about to expose his secret affair with you.

The church remained silent, save for the heavy breathing of those present and distant whispers filling the air.

The shame burning on Lizzie's face was unbearable, and she lowered her eyes in defeat. Though her pride had been severely wounded, she wasn't naïve. She knew whom Tommy loved. But hearing him reject her in front of all these people was something she hadn't expected.

"Let's go and have a drink to calm your nerves and then we will talk about what happened," Polly said reassuringly, leading Lizzie away from the altar, and toward the exit.

Outside the church, you remained leaning against the wall, your thoughts swirling. You wondered what Tommy's next move would be and when he would come for you and when Lizzie saw you, calmly smoking a cigarette , she strode towards you, her eyes blazing with fury.

"You are the reason for this," Lizzie accused you, causing your heart to race within your chest. "The whole world thinks that I am a laughing stock now, but let me assure you, I will make your life even more miserable than you made mine you fucking whore," Lizzie told you while you remained silent, unwilling to confirm or deny her accusations.

"Lizzie, time and place! Let's go!" Polly interrupted, quickly leading Lizzie away from you and towards her Bentley. 

You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched them leave.

The tension was thick in the air, and you could feel every eye on you. The whispers grew louder, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of shame creeping up your neck.

You quickly dropped your cigarette onto the gravel and crushed it beneath your heel, before straightening your shoulders as you finally saw Tommy, walking towards you alongside your father.

"Now that was a fucking disaster," your father said  with a whistle, but you didn't find the situation funny in the least. "Let's get pissed, eh? And forget that this ever happened, shall we?" he then suggested, causing his wife Linda to shake her head.

"No Arthur, let's get home," she told him sternly while you turned to Tommy, searching his deep blue eyes for answers, but all you could find were reflections of your own guilt.

Being in the presence of your father, you knew that he couldn't say anything, and neither could you.  The tension between you and Tommy was palpable, the moments stretching on as you both took each other in.

You couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. Was he feeling regret and remorse for not being able to go through with the marriage? Or was he glad to be free of his loveless relationship right now?

Arthur's eyes darted between his brother and you, sensing the tension but unsure of its actual cause. You could feel yourself growing more anxious by the second, your heart hammering within your chest and, as Linda demanded for your father to leave with her, you were glad to finally have  a chance to speak your mind.

"I'm sorry, Tommy. I should never have come here," you murmured softly, your eyes brimming with unshed tears as you tried to communicate all the emotions that were coursing through your veins in a single silent look. 

Tommy looked at you for a long moment, his blue eyes searching yours for any hint of regret or resistance.

"No," he finally said, clearing his throat. "I am glad you did, because you made me realise something that I have forgotten ever since I returned from France," he added, his voice stronger and more assured than you had ever heard it before. "None of this matters. This business. Money. Fucking nothing matters ," Tommy muttered, his voice low and passionate. "Fuck parliament and fuck this deal. Let's just fucking leave, eh? Just you, me and our son," he continued to say, all of his previous restraint thrown to the wind.

You stared at him, your heart fluttering wildly with shock. His words lingered in the air between you like a promise of something new and unexplored. The thought of leaving everything behind, of starting anew, was terrifying and you quickly quietened him down.

"Sshh , not here," you murmured, taking in a deep breath to steady your racing heart.

The last thing you wanted was for the rest of your family to hear his words and realize what he had just confessed to you. This desire, this forbidden love, could never see the light of day.

In another time and place, perhaps it could have grown into a beautiful reality, but not within the narrow-minded constraints of 1920's England.

"If I know one thing Thomas Shelby, it is that you could never live a life away from fucking Birmingham. You crave this. You crave the power and the thrill of it all. After France, this is exactly what you needed. Your mind needs to be occupied, and you are good at it. You are exactly where you belong and I know that you will never be able to live a quiet life with me, away from family, without losing part of yourself,"  you continued, with a sad smile.

Tommy stared back at you, unable to deny the truth in your words. His whole life had been dedicated to this life, and he knew that nothing else would truly satisfy the deep-seated desire for power and control. It was an addiction of sorts, one that he couldn't simply shake off even if he wanted to.

With that, he nodded in defeat before, without many more words, leading you to his Bently just as the last of the guests came walking out of the church with a look of disappointment on their faces.

"This is not the way back to Arrow House," you noticed as Tommy started driving, leaving the whispers of the guests far behind.

"No, it is not. I need to go somewhere else. Somewhere where I can think," he told you finally, after minutes of silence, before taking a left turn to a place you had not been before.

As the Bentley took the final bend in the country road, your breath caught in your throat. The landscape was bathed in the golden glow of sunlight breaking through the clouds; its rays illuminated a sprawling green hill and a small Gypsie wagon.

"What is this place?" you asked him, eyes widening to take in the sight before you that tugged at your heartstrings more than any erotic encounter ever had. This place seemed magical and romantic; two things you thought were impossible with Tommy Shelby.

"This is where I come when I want to be alone," he said, pulling to a stop just short of where the wagon stood.

"But you are not alone. I am right here with you,"  you said gently, reaching over to rest your hand on top of his.

Your voice was soft but it carried a strength that echoed within him; it brought comfort beyond anything he had ever experienced before.

Tommy parked the car and led the way up the hill. At the top, as your breath caught in your chest once more, this time at the beauty all around you, he paused, watching you take in your surroundings before he began to speak.

" This place belonged to my mother. When she died, the land and the wagon were given to my uncle. I spent a lot of time here growing up, and it's still where I come whenever I need to think," Tommy revealed, the words slipping out as easily as if he had been telling you about his day instead of something far more deeply personal.

A haunted look lingered in his eyes, and for a moment, you could almost see the boy who mourned the loss of his mother and sought solace in a wagon tucked away on a high hill.

"Do you want to tell me what it is that you are thinking about?" you asked Tommy, as you both stared off into the distance.

Your hand remained on top of his and your thumb absentmindedly traced circles across the back of it as you watched a little bird fly past, soaring effortlessly through the air before disappearing from view.

Tommy turned his head towards you, blue eyes meeting yours before he glanced down at your hand and slowly lifted it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against it.

"I am thinking about how to make this work," he replied softly, watching as the breeze stirred loose tendrils of your hair around your face.

His voice was calm, but you could sense the urgency in his words, a silent plea for you both to find a way.

"You know you can't just leave everything behind and run off with me and we cannot be together otherwise. Not with your family knowing," you said gently, your heart heavy with the reality of their situation.

You couldn't pretend that things could be any different, no matter how much you longed for them to be.

Tommy nodded slowly before turning to look out across the fields once again.

He released a long, slow sigh before finally speaking.

"I know, but I will come up with a plan to make this fucking work, eh," he started, a determined look glinted in his eye as, suddenly, he heard a voice speak up behind the two of you.

"It better be as good as my plan," your aunt Polly said, startling you both, even causing Tommy to draw his gun.

Polly raised an eyebrow with some amusement as she calmly stepped forward while Tommy put his weapon away, back into the holster beneath his suit jacket.  

"How did you know how to find us?" Tommy asked , surprise and concern in his voice.

"I have eyes everywhere," Polly replied, with a quiet chuckle. "I knew about your mother's wagon for years and the peace it brought you when the world felt out of control, especially when you came back from France" she said as she took a seat on a patch of grass next to you.

"Now listen, I have spoken to Lizzie and she agreed to keep your little secret safe so long as you provide generously for her and Ruby, the monies for which, I may add, will not come out of the company's account," Polly said sternly as she stared at Tommy, waiting for his reply.

Tommy's eyes narrowed in thought before he finally nodded, understanding the weight of the situation.

"Of course," Tommy replied simply.

Polly looked at him for a long moment before she finally spoke up once more.

"Now, as far as your relationship with each other is concerned, I suggest that Y/N and your son remain with you at Arrow House for their own protection," Polly continued in a business-like manner. 

"Protection from what?" you asked , your brow furrowed in confusion as you looked from your aunt to Tommy.

"Protection from the men who burned down the Midland Hotel," Polly explained, causing Tommy to furrow his eyebrows as well.

"These men have been dealt with, Pol," Tommy explained, causing his aunt to smile.

"I know, but Arthur, John and the rest of our men don't know that, which ultimately gives Y/N and her son a reason to stay with you for now,"  Polly said, glancing at you before she finally continued. "It is the perfect disguise for you to continue this rather inappropriate relationship with one another without anybody finding out about it," Polly then chuckled , causing you to blush slightly while Tommy frowned at his aunt's playful jab and whilst she did not exactly approved of what you were doing with each other, she knew that, without you, Tommy had been miserable, leading him to make bad and dangerous business decisions.

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[cobaltperun]

Genius (4) - Bittersuite

Cairo Sweet x female (G!P) Reader

Summary: It was such a cliché, a reunion she didn’t expect to ever happen, let alone six years after she last saw you. It was supposed to mean nothing, a bit of nostalgia, maybe a brief catching up while waiting for class, it was supposed to be a small wave of nostalgia, not a tsunami that disrupted her entire life. You were her opposite, and as hard as she tried she couldn’t resist your pull.

Story masterlist / First part / Previous Part / Next Part

Word count: 3.5k

-God, I hope it all goes away, 'cause I can't fall in love with you-

A madman’s love.

Cairo had no idea how that felt, but the way Miller described it sounded exactly like what she was yearning for. Ever since she was old enough to yearn for love. To be loved by someone to the point of madness, for that someone to merely be a bone monolith beneath her, to be loved so fiercely and strongly that both her and the one loving her end up consumed by the flames of emotions within them.

To be madly loved and to madly love in return.

How did that feel? To fight for someone’s love, no matter the circumstances, the taboo, the judgment of society. To feel so right no matter how many people said it’s wrong.

She didn’t know, but she imagined Miller knew, he described it, after all. He wrote it with passion that struck her, that made her yearn for what he was painting in her mind. What about his age? Well, she did desire something that others would deem wrong, didn’t she? And then there was Winnie, and Cairo would have cursed her for filling her head with the ideas of giving her virginity to someone older if Winnie didn’t present such a convincing argument. To give her virginity to someone that was, as Winnie put it, wagyu beef, and not deli meat.

She didn’t know she wasn’t supposed to bleed the first time she has sex, the books she read made sex out to be raw, rough, immediate, a desperate act of chasing pleasure, they hardly ventured into the ideas of woman’s arousal, much less aftercare.

Could he give it to her? Could he see her for who she really was? Reveal sides of her she didn’t even know existed yet? He certainly found something worth it in this damn village she despised, he could do the same with her. Find worth no one else did, make her feel wanted by someone. Make her feel like she was the only one who mattered.

Her phone buzzed and she glanced at it. You sent her a message, but she didn’t reach for her phone to reply. She just leaned her head back instead. She couldn’t deny the visceral reaction she had whenever she was reminded of you. Of her heart beating faster, or the dreams she had, or the fact that she wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking forward to more on Monday mornings, listening to Miller, or sitting next to you, your arms occasionally touching and making her feel like she was on fire.

How did you see her? Did you still see the girl who read to you, the girl that dragged you around the forest around her house, the girl who pushed you away? Or did you see her for who she was right now? A ghost, someone a rare few paid attention to, though she kept hearing she was extraordinary. A lonely girl longing for attention and escape. You were certainly providing her with the escape she needed, seeing as Saturdays became your usual getaways, and you took her to places she had no idea about, she was living when she was with you, free from the shackles of nowhere Tennessee.

But your love for her was a lot like Winnie’s. Immature, normal, fueled by reasons appropriate for your age. She couldn’t imagine you or Winnie being driven to madness by your love for her, if the way you loved her even included anything romantic in the first place.

She needed a love that wasn’t ordinary. She needed her madman’s love.

And she feared that whatever was happening between the two of you wasn’t a product of love or friendship, but a desperate attempt to emulate what was once lost.

Cairo didn’t want that. She didn’t want to emulate the past, she wanted… What did she want? She knew what she didn’t want, but what did she actually want?

~X~

This wasn’t working, and the only reason you still tolerated this class was because Cairo was there as well. You suppressed a sigh as Miller droned on about the writer’s style being bold, and too much, and it really was.

You were trying to reignite your love for reading but all this was doing was making you wish to never open a book again in your entire life. You couldn’t get the fact that he went thought student’s stuff out of your head, and that impression alone ruined the class for you.

“Meet me after classes,” he leaned over Cairo’s shoulder, too close to her, secretive, whispering so no one else but Cairo could hear him. Though not quiet enough for you not to hear him, even if you looked like you weren’t paying attention. The fuck was with this guy? After classes?

You were reading too much into it, right?

~X~

Was he seeing her? Like Winnie said? Cairo wasn’t sure yet, but she couldn’t deny their similarities, how at ease she felt, how the only time she felt this much at ease was when she was with you on your rides outside the village. It compared to that as far as her ease went, but it went further, it met other needs she had as well. The ones she hated to admit she had. Her need for approval and attention from someone older, something she never got before, being a big part of it, and what made this seem more impactful to her than what she had with you.

And then there was a part of her that consciously made what she had with you feel like it was to be expected. Like it was a given that you’d reconnect. And she needed to look at it that way, otherwise she’d spiral into fear and panic, because if it wasn’t a given, and if both of you chose to actively put effort into rebuilding what you once had, then that in and of itself, would be a form of madness she wasn’t ready to face just yet.

“See you on Monday, Mr. Miller,” Winnie said as she opened the doors so she could drag Cairo to get her beloved food.

“Bye, kid,” a kid, that’s how he saw Winnie, but he didn’t call Cairo a ‘kid’, so at the very least he didn’t see her as one, though her and Winnie were the same age. He saw her as an adult, and she very much liked that. “Oh, and Cairo, are you going to come this Saturday?” he asked her.

She realized she never got to answer him, and it wasn’t just because Winnie came in, there was an issue of already making plans with you. “I already made plans with Y/N, but I’ll see if she’s fine with postponing,” she told him, not quite ready to give a definitive answer.

He seemed a bit startled all of a sudden. “Y/N?”

Cairo nodded, not sure what made him react the way he did just now, though it was subtle she could see he was a bit uncomfortable.

“Did- Uh, did she mention me in any way?” he tried to brush it off as a normal question, but the way he avoided her eyes gave him away.

“No,” she replied. Not even sure why you would mention him. You didn’t particularly enjoy his class, she could tell by the way you actively tried not to listen to him, and she knew you were doing bare minimum on the assignments. You didn’t like either him or the class, and Caro didn’t know why, she didn’t ask why, and you never told her why.

“Oh, okay, forget I said anything,” Miller regained some color when she denied you ever mentioning him and she just nodded, choosing not to ask him about it.

She’d just ask you. After all, you were the one who kept something from her.

~X~

You were in your garage, just cleaning your motorcycle and your gear when you heard the doorbell ringing. You weren’t expecting any visitors, so maybe it was just one of your neighbors. When the doorbell rang the second time you got up, leaving the rug you were using on the bucket, and quickly washed your hands in the sink, before going outside.

“Sorry for the wait, I was-“ you paused, seeing Cairo on your doorstep. “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you here,” you climbed up the stairs as Cairo looked to the side. You couldn’t read her, but you could tell something wasn’t right.

“Hey, Y/N,” she greeted you.

“Come in,” you opened the doors for her and stepped aside, she knew the house. Even if she hasn’t been inside in a long time. You followed after Cairo, taking notice of how she stopped and stared at the copy of Jules Verne’s ‘Around the World in Eighty Days’. You were trying to read it, but between Miller killing your desire to read and the book being closely tied to your and Cairo’s friendship while you were kids, you hated to admit it, but you weren’t having an easy time with it. Still, you were about two thirds in, so at least you were making some progress.

“Do you want something to drink? Or eat? I was about to make something for lunch anyway,” you were already heading toward the kitchen as Cairo sat down on the armchair.

“No, I just ate with Winnie, I’m okay,” she said and you chose not to push her. She was tense, and it didn’t escape your notice that she chose one seat that would put the most distance between the two of you regardless of where you sat down.

So, you mirrored her, taking a seat on the far end of the sofa, letting the distance between you engulf you. The silence felt deafening, and you hoped it wouldn’t come to this. This was the tension you were worried about the first time you took her out of the village, it wasn’t supposed to be happening now, two weeks after you reunited. “What’s wrong?” you asked carefully.

“Mr. Miller said something, well, he asked me if you mentioned him. Why?” she asked, looking you in the eyes and clutching the straps of her bag in her hand.

You could swear you were hearing alarm bells ringing in your head. Why would he ask her that? “I caught him and coach what’s-his-name going through your books on the first day, that’s all,” you had no reason to protect him, since Cairo asked so openly. Frankly, you weren’t sure why you haven’t told her that in the first place.

“That’s it?” she asked incredulously.

“You wanted more?” you were astonished. Now, you didn’t expect her to be furious, or go on a rant, or anything like that, but you didn’t expect her to think nothing of it. What did she even want from you, because you honestly couldn’t tell where you were standing with her.

“You’re being ridiculous,” she defended him. “Mr. Miller isn’t being inappropriate, he sees me,” she told you.

You raised an eyebrow, puzzled. Sees her? “Cairo, what do you mean he sees you?” you questioned, leaning a bit closer over the dreadfully large distance between the two of you.

Cairo looked away, contemplating whether she should tell you something and then, finally, she made her decision. “He sees my talent; he sees what others’ don’t. He- he gave me special treatment, offered me an early mid-term assignment,” she leaned back, likely reading your frown as if you were disapproving of her.

It wasn’t her. It was his actions. It didn’t feel right. It felt unprofessional, it felt like he was actively crossing boundaries with her, taking advantage of her need to be seen, as she put it. “Cairo, he might not be good for you,” you didn’t feel like you had the right to influence her, or get involved in her decisions, but you also felt like you had to, much like all those years ago, pull her away from something that could harm her.

“You just came back, don’t pretend you understand what is best for me,” she snapped, her voice shaking a bit and even from this distance you could see the tears pooling in her eyes. “I’m going to a poetry reading this Saturday, to see him, just so you know,” the fact that she was canceling your plans didn’t matter nearly as much as the reason why she chose to cancel them.

What pushed her this far? To seek approval from him of all people? “Okay,” but she was too emotional to talk to properly right now. So, you chose to back away for now, to just hope that nothing even worse would happen. And Cairo? She just left, closing the doors with a sound that rang through your mind as if it signaled the start of madness.

~X~

He truly did see her, he saw all of her. The ghost, the rose bush that wasn’t allowed to blossom, no matter how hard she tried. And she saw herself in him, she saw her reflection, and she wondered if he saw himself in her as well. She was willing to bet he did, they were both ghosts, cursed to never be seen for what they were by anyone who wasn’t like them.

He didn’t take her somewhere else, he showed her a side of her home she wasn’t aware of, and she managed to see worth in it she never knew existed. She yearned for more. She yearned for an even deeper connection. She yearned… she longed… she…

This wasn’t a given. This was something she had to reach for, something she had to work for, something forbidden, and yet so appealing at the same time.

Would he fight for her? Accept her entirely and burn in their shared passion and desires and yearning, or would he refuse to participate in this dance? She feared the answer, because, if he wouldn’t… who would?

And in the middle of it all, of all those thoughts and feelings, she just for a moment, saw your face as you told her he wasn’t good for her. Your eyes, intensely looking right at her. What did you see? What compelled you to look at her like that? And along the image of you, leaning closer to her, so close that she, despite the almost overwhelming distance, caught herself unsure if she should back away, maintain the distance, or lean in, encouraging you to keep closing the distance until there was none of it left. Along that image she vividly saw the wild rose bush crushed by an old fallen tree and her eyes widened as she remembered you pulling her away from it all.

Would you pull her back once again? Would Miller be the old tree to crush her? Or would he stand strong next to her as she blossomed? She didn’t decide yet, but she knew the way he was looking at her right now lacked the intensity your stare had.

~X~

You’ve been denying it for years, but Cairo, even after she pushed you away remained a constant presence in your life. You still remembered that time in the forest around her house, when she dragged you around and then just froze when she saw an old tree that had fallen over a bush of wild roses. It wasn’t the scene that remained in your memory. You weren’t old enough for it to profoundly affect you. Even now you didn’t come to give any deeper meaning to the imagery you witnessed.

It was still an impactful memory because she sobbed, and she wasn’t even aware of it. She let out a sound, filled with so much sorrow you couldn’t even comprehend what was going through her head back then. To this day, you didn’t know why it affected her so much, but you knew how it affected you. How it made you feel like you had to take her away from there, that you had to do something so she would smile again.

She set a bar so damn high for you that it wasn’t just the fact that you were moving a lot that stopped you from being best friends with someone. It was the fact that they just couldn’t compare to her. And then you got a bit older and started understanding your sexuality and you tried, you really did. You dated on and off, but again, the connection you were seeking wasn’t there. No matter how amazing the girl was you just found it hard to let someone in the way you did with Cairo. Did you ever have any feelings for Cairo that weren’t purely friendship related? No, not even a childish crush, but the connection between you was just strong enough to affect you years after you last saw her. You felt that connection in the songs you learnt to play, in some of the music you created, brimming with longing and inspired by a friendship long ago left in the past that refused to fade away.

You glanced at her, at her focused gaze meant only for Miller in this very moment, and you weren’t sure how to feel. You just waited for the class to end. And then he approached your and Cairo’s table from behind, and you saw his left hand reaching for her hand as he leaned over her shoulder.

As if he absolutely had to say something only to her.

Your eyebrow twitched. How dare he? He was her teacher, and she was only eighteen. Without thinking you pushed the table to your left so abruptly he lost his hold on the edge of the table and stumbled forward, and, unable to stay on his feet he dropped to his knees to the gasps of the students.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, don’t worry,” he got up, dusting his pants and raising his hands as he turned away from the class, embarrassed by what just happened. Just for a moment his eyes met yours and you glared, begging for him to read your mind and see what you thought. ‘Learn where the damn boundary is,’ is what you were trying to convey through your eyes. Consequences be damned.

Not like there would be any. If he went and reported you, you’d just say what you suspected, consequences of those actions be damned. He, at the very least, did show favoritism toward Cairo.

When the class ended you stormed out of the classroom, ignoring Cairo and Winnie’s eyes following you.

~X~

As you walked out of the classroom after all your classes ended you suddenly felt a hand grab your forearm and pull you aside much to your utter surprise.

“Come with me,” Cairo demanded, ordering you as if you had no choice but to follow her every whim.

“You could be a bit gentler,” you complained, not appreciating how tightly she was gripping your arm.

Cairo looked back at you, anger flashing in her eyes. “I could say the same to you, why would you make him fall like that?” she hissed, dragging you to a slightly secluded corner.

“Maybe next time he’ll think twice before putting his hands where they shouldn’t be,” you were instantly annoyed by the reminder of where he was about to put his hands. And Cairo jumping to his defense wasn’t helping.

“Yeah, and where is that?” she challenged you as you leaned against the wall and she stepped right in front of you. If you moved even a bit, you’d be pressed right against her.

“Not on you, that’s for sure. Or any of his students,” he had his responsibilities and one of those was to keep the proper boundaries with his students.

“And if I want him to?” Cairo demanded and you just… weren’t sure how to answer that. You knew how it made you feel though. And suddenly it wasn’t just about his advances toward Cairo being inappropriate in your eyes. You finally felt as if the pieces on your side were falling into place, and you were no longer seeing the girl you spent your childhood with. You saw an eighteen-year-old girl and somehow you were no longer certain you only saw her as a friend. It was as if the very thought of him touching her ignited flames of madness within you, a jealousy you didn’t even know you could feel over Cairo.

“Do you really?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

You took her words in, you forced yourself to calm down, to take it easy, to think rationally. “Why did you push me away when we were kids Cairo?” you asked and she backed away a bit, and though she didn’t leave, you could see it in her eyes. She wasn’t going to answer. And her answer mattered to you more than anything, because her answer was the only thing that could make any of this worth it. That was the only thing that could validate or invalidate your feelings. That was the only thing that could solve every question running through your mind. And she wasn’t giving it to you.

A/N: Is Cairo confused at the moment? Yup! Is R? Absolutely! So, tell me what you think, I would appreciate it!

Taglist: @deimaisgail @bee-keeping @marvelous-disaster @jmwetterlund @tekanparadiae

@alexkolax @ioveyouyouloveme @aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh

[intermundia]

hey will um- any thoughts on feyd-rautha and paul’s dynamic? not even necessarily from a shipping pov. i just feel like you’ll have some juicy insights lol

I don’t have anything really new to say that hasn’t been said, but it IS fascinating to me that Paul and Feyd-Rautha were supposed to be married, with thousands of years of Bene Gesserit design to create these two ideal parents for the chosen one, but Paul’s divergent masculinity broke that union and made them into antagonists. They’re foils, like the way you place a gem on metal to make it shine brighter, yet the light that Feyd-Rautha shines on Paul illuminates Paul's dark side, rendering his negative self visible, warning about it and exemplifying it.

In the sense that Paul was raised in a culture of honor, and yet chose exploitation, Feyd-Rautha was raised in a culture of exploitation, and chose honor. He contained that unexpected virtue, not enough to redeem him, but enough to cast light on the honor that Paul discarded. When Paul says “so this is how we’ll survive, by being Harkonnens,” the audience knows with dread what part of Paul’s essential personhood that he will be leaning into, the cruelty and exploitation of others, the wanton violence, the selfish ambition.

Also it’s fascinating that unlike Feyd-Rautha, Paul is NOT sexually vulnerable; he’s simply not available to be manipulated through sex, he does the manipulating. He resists Irulan’s seduction entirely, and doesn’t give any real power to Chani. He indulges in sex because he feels love and desire, and he maintains control in the realm of sexuality over Irulan, whose life path is controlled by the fact that he denies her children. If he had been the wife of Feyd-Rautha, he would’ve been able to gain and keep power in the relationship using sexuality and children as a tool.

Feyd-Rautha, despite being a psychopathic power hungry dominant force in much of his life, still would’ve bent to Paul-as-lover, Paul-as-giver-of-intimate-pain. Feyd-Rautha was born to be a sire for Paul's child, born to serve as stud for a powerful woman to create the one. It’s an inherently complementary role, a dependent one. Once they took his seed, and once they established sexual control over him, he would be theirs to use or discard. He’s a tool and a weapon, where Paul should’ve been the sacred vessel, the ultimate woman and mother.

I also deeply appreciate the design choices that Villneuve made that diverge from the written text in a way to visually communicate important personality and ideological information. They are equal-and-opposite visually as well as narratively. Seeing that final duel, Feyd-Rautha is bleached of all natural color, hairless and clean, his shiny black armor tells the story of an industrial culture, versus Paul in sandy brown, natural cloth with a natural blade, coming from the people who lived on the land, in balance and sync with the land, and against those who steal and exploit the land.

It's an archetypal clash of civilizations, embodied in these two young men fighting to the death. They just look like a matched set, opposites that synthesize a thesis of Atreides and antithesis of Harkonnen into a higher being, that should have been their child. The fact that they fought to the death instead of generating life is a bad sign for the galaxy—not that their child necessarily would have been the one to lead into a better future, but Paul killed billions. Jessica's usurpation of Paul's motherhood of the one disrupted that plan, and Paul's masculinity and sexual independence led to a disaster.

[thatswhatsushesaid]

i think it is extremely weird that parts of this fandom have just definitively decided that the principle antagonist is an irredeemably evil monster because he has his minion burn down a brothel (where said antagonist was born and abused and watched his mother suffer and die) with people still inside it, then hires a bunch of sex workers to rape his rapist dad (who raped so many women that he lost track of who his victims were, and ended up approving of a marriage between said antagonist and his own half-sister as a result) to death

when the protagonist’s chosen means of killing the people who razed the only home he’s ever known and murdered his foster parents involves 1) choking a woman to death by forcing a table leg down her throat, 2) forcing that dead woman to bite off a man’s genitals, and 3) forcing that man to eat his own legs. this plus the protagonist’s multiple day-long murder-torture bender where he kills and tortures a bunch of other wen sect disciples in front of each other, and owns doing this because it was fun and would have been too boring to kill then quickly. like jiang cheng and lan wangji find wwx by following the trail of bodies he leaves in his wake ok, that’s pretty awful

if wei wuxian can do these things and and still be considered good, then that only makes it harder for me to understand why jin guangyao is denied goodness

fun fact: when i describe both of these characters to people who are totally canon-blind and know nothing about mdzs, cql, or any of the other adaptations, the initial response from most people isn’t “hmmm but what was the protagonist’s interiority while he was making that woman’s corpse eat that man’s junk? was he very sad about it? that will surely tell me whether his corpse desecration and autocannibalism is morally defensible or not.” most of the time what they say is “ray what the fuck are you reading, both of those guys sound like evil people, i don’t care what their motivations are! also get help”

it just seems weird!! that certain corners of this fandom have decided that goodness is not only a quality that wwx intrinsically possesses (something i don’t necessarily disagree with fwiw), but that he gets to be defined by this goodness above all else. wwx gets situated at the centre of all subsequent discourse as the moral lighthouse of the whole novel—even though he has done objectively heinous shit entirely to satisfy his own desire for vengeance. doing all of those things does not detract from his fundamental goodness, in their estimation. or if it does, it doesn’t detract enough to significantly impact his role for them as the goodness barometer in the novel.

and that’s fine with me actually! if this is where the bar for what it means to be good in this novel is set, then it should logically follow that jin guangyao’s heinous actions can similarly be ‘offset’ by paying the appropriate ‘goodness tax’ through his other canon actions (e.g., loving and remaining filial to his mother, saving and protecting lan xichen, saving nie mingjue, funding the rebuilding of the cloud recesses, caring for his orphaned nephew, etc). he has done yuckydisgusting things, yes, but so has wwx! and as we all know, wwx is not evil! so jgy isn’t evil either!

…but this isn’t what happens in these conversations, because jgy seems to begin all fandom discourse at a goodness deficit that is depressingly reflective of the goodness deficit he experiences in the novel post-canon. (or, honestly, at the beginning of his life as meng yao.) and unlike wwx whose character gets to be defined principally by his goodness in spite of his genuinely horrendous acts of violence, jin guangyao’s whole character becomes defined by his horrendous acts of violence in spite of his goodness, even though the text demonstrates clearly that their capacity for both good and evil is evenly matched.

tl;dr it would be nice if the goodness goalposts would stop moving around so much in these discussions. maybe we should just get rid of them entirely.

[thegamingcatmom]

Instinct (Tanya Denali x fem reader)

Right so, how do yall think single!Tanya would react if she just kinda...stumbled upon the one, completely unexpected? One would think if you got a cousin who's able to see the future then surely they would've given you a lil heads-up, so you wouldn't make an absolute fool out of yourself.

Spoiler alert: Alice did not give her a lil heads-up.

However-

Before we dive deeper I feel like it should be mentioned our girl´s been existing for a millenium, doing pretty damn good without someone constantly breathing down her neck, tyvm. It´s not like she couldn´t have someone constantly breathing down her neck, puh-leeze. Girl could have anyone she desires and we all know it. She knows it.

Besides, it´s not like she´s been entirely on her own when it comes to physical matters. There´s been flings and ONSs and perhaps she´s even tried to be exclusive with someone here and there - I wouldn´t call it "relationship" though. I can´t see Tanya Denali binding herself to just any mortal. She´d never put her family in harm´s way simply because she couldn´t keep her hands to herself-

...like someone else did.

(No, I do not consider Bella to be Edward´s mate. She is his singer, that´s different.)

As open-minded and free-spirited as the Denalis are, they´d never go against the laws of the Volturi. Tanya will make personally sure they won´t.

However, one can´t deny that this world could get quite...lonesome, especially when one has been living for as long as the sisters have. I don´t think Tanya would ever openly admit it, but she was lonely. She was yearning for something more than the occasional fling or ONS.

That´s how this whole thing with Edward started. He was a vampire, he was single, he was there. That´s all this was, imo. All of it combined seemed like the perfect match and seeing how our girl got people probably tripping over themselves to fulfill her every wish, surely this time wouldn´t be any different-

...Except, it was different. Eddy didn´t bite - that was a first. Something Tanya wasn´t used to, perhaps - hence why she was so hellbent on making things work between them. Our girl loves a good challenge.

(Human!Tanya in today´s day and age would be a total Daddy´s girl - used to getting her way and never been told "No". Yall can´t convince me otherwise.)

I´ve said it before: Tanya is a woman who will go after what she´s set her eyes on with everything she´s got. And what she´s set her eyes on wasn´t necessarily Edward himself, but rather what he represented - an end to her solitude.

Well, it didn´t work out in the end - obviously. But that craving for something more persisted. Enter-

"You", a husky voice almost breathed to your left, causing you to startle slightly before turning to take a look at the blonde wom-

...bombshell of a woman, who was currently staring at you like she´s never seen another human being in her life. Or perhaps you got something on your face.

In any case, that unblinking stare was quite unnerving.

"Uh...hey? Can I help you?" That came out a tad bit more aggressive than you intended but, in your defense, it´s been a long day.

You´ve only just had time to sit down and unwind after having packed up your whole life and shiped it here, to Alaska - your new home. Or, well, what you hoped would become your new home, in time. You´ve always struggled with adjusting to changes and this one was huge, but more than that: necessary. You wouldn´t have made it otherwise, of that you were certain.

So, here you were now - trying to enjoy some well-deserved me time in this little coffee shop you found when you were taking your first stroll through the quaint town of Fairbanks.

...Emphasis on trying, because that woman was still staring at you. She still hasn´t blinked yet. You don´t think any part of her has moved since she came to stand before you like a bearer of bad news. Honestly? You were starting to believe it. Something about this situation - about her - just felt off.

The exasperation that was steadily creeping up on you increased tenfold when some other blonde bimbo approaches, eyes laser-focused on your weird altercation, wearing a smile that showed way too much teeth-

Ugh.

'Can´t one enjoy their overpriced and incredibly stale coffee in peace? Goddammit-'

Off to a good start...

As for our proud coven leader?

Tanya had been suffering this...itch for the past couple of days. She hadn´t been able to make sense of it, hadn´t been able to figure out why she was experiencing it in the first place. All she could focus on was how utterly distracting it was, how much of a power it held over her - making her stumble through this town in search of its source. It was driving her mad.

That near magnetic pull seemed to have reached its peak today, the force of it almost bringing her down to her knees. Her eyes were wide open, but she wasn´t seeing. She pushed through the haze, body on autopilot, blindly following wherever instinct seemed to lead her. She was close - so close she could nearly taste it-

The jingling of a bell registered somewhere within her, sounding out rather dull though; nothing more than a background noise. She took in her surroundings - warm afternoon sunlight filtering through the windows, soft chatter and laughter floating through the air, the clinking of cups and the gentle hum of the espresso machine, the woman sitting on a bar chair across from her-

All of a sudden, the haze cleared and a wave of contentment washed over her. At the same time, everything around her seemed to fade until the only thing left to focus on was-

"You"

She entirely ceased to function for a hot second before remembering she was out in the open where she was supposed to human.

"Uh...hey? Can I help you?"

Right now, she couldn´t care less about what she was supposed to do.

She´s puffing up in an instant, like it´s instinct - absolutely ready to slay, to charm, to impress. She's Tanya Denali, for crying out loud. She will not be rendered useless by a human-

No matter how absolutely stunning that human is and how much she longs to be with that human from now on until the end of time because it's meant to be-

No.

Tanya Denali will not be rendered useless. She's the one who renders others useless. So that human woman, currently emitting an absolutely mouthwatering smell, had better get ready to be swept off her feet-

...Except, said human looked anything but. In fact, the woman looked quite unimpressed, just about done with stuff. Not that the vampiress minded much. She knew how wary humans could get in their presence. It happens almost unconsciously, like it´s instinct - a natural response when faced with an apex predator.

'A mere delay of what is to come. Of what is meant to be.'

Just as the coven leader prepared to flash a megawatt smile, which would surely seal the deal-

"Hey Tanyaaa! Who´s your friend?" She didn´t have to face her sister to know she was smiling like a cat that got the canary - she could hear it in her voice.

"Kate", she managed through gritted teeth. "Shouldn´t you be with Irina? Take care of those...shipments?"

'And quit being a massive pain in my a-'

"Nope", her sister replied bluntly. "It´s all taken care of. Carmen and Eleazar got back from their-"

Her sister´s eyes darted to her companion for a brief moment, much too swift to be perceived by the human eye.

"...Trip a lot earlier than expected. They were so kind to fill in for me, told me to go and check up on my dearest sister instead. Y´know, since the last few days have been quite-"

"Katrina", she whipped around to face her sister when it seemed like the spew of unnecessary information wasn´t going to stop anytime soon. Honestly-

"Don´t you have other things to do? Other places to be?" Her eyebrows raised so high it felt like they nearly met her hairline.

She loves her sister, but Kate has this irritating quality of showing herself when she really wasn´t needed nor wanted. It´s entirely on purpose, of course. Her younger sister does so love pushing buttons and testing limits, especially hers.

"...Nope."

Never before in her life had the urge to strangle her sister been this appealing. That cursed smirk-

"Oh...by the way sis-", her left eye was starting to twitch. "I´m not as well-versed as you are when it comes to canoodling with une madame, but I´m pretty sure that´s not how you do it." A pointed look was thrown over her shoulder, head nodding at the human woman still sitting-

...Who used to sit in front of her. She was right there just seconds ago!

'Nonononono-'

Her eyes frantically scanned the establishment, ears straining to detect that angelic voice, nose going crazy trying to catch a whiff of-

"WHERE IS SHE?!"

The little coffee shop went dead silent then, all eyes turned to her, looking at her like she´s completely lost it. Even her sister shot her a look that was free of mirth and mischief for once.

She had to get out of here.

She turned on her heel, blonde curls bouncing as she marched out of the shop, Kate not far behind. It took a mere few seconds until both of them were standing on the sidewalk in front of the facility, but it´s been the longest few seconds of her life.

The urge to break character, to drop this wretched human facade - if only for a moment - so she could-

"Tan...what´s going on?" Eyes roamed up and down her body, taking in her frenzied state. "What just happened in there?"

A hand slowly reached for her, hesitating for the briefest of moments before it came to rest on her shoulder. As if Kate didn´t wish to accidently spook her, as though her sister were dealing with a wild animal.

Honestly? She didn't quite understand, herself. Now that this woman was no longer in her vicinity, that god-awful itch returned. Only this time, it was made so much worse by that mouthwatering smell which seemed to linger in every facet of her being. It made her feel light-headed; she had great difficulty stringing together a coherent thought.

For the first time in over a millennium, she felt drunk.

It was addicting-

"...Tan? Tany-hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Hands grabbed her before she could storm off again. She wasn´t sure where to, exactly. She moved on autopilot, led by a force greater than anything she´s faced in life.

"Will you please tell me what's going on? What's the matter? Is it that woman from before?" That got her listening. "Are you...are you mad at me or something?"

'Oh...'

...What?

Kate must´ve taken her confused silence as an affirmation. "Come on sis, don´t be like that. I´m sorry, okay? I´m sorry for thwarting your plans of getting into that woman´s pants. But Tan...there´s more where she came from. You´re gonna have your hands full in no time, I´m sure-"

The rational part of her recognized her sister was trying to cheer her up by being her usual impish self. Had she not been as preoccupied as she was in this moment, she might´ve even appreciated it.

However, the primal part of her that seemed to continuously gain the upper hand as time went on did not appreciate it. On the contrary - it roared and snapped its teeth at the implication she would make do with any other ever again-

"-emember? You were so furious at me because she´s had you in a limbo for weeks. I know you have a thing for prudes, but I still think I did you a favor. Some of them just aren´t worth the trouble, if you ask me. Why suffer blue balls when you can have any other-"

As Kate continued her dive into past affairs, she could feel something inside of her snapping.

"She´s NOT just any woman, Kate! So don´t you dare talk about her like she´s merely a way to pass time!" Her sister had the decency to look mildly guilty, at least. More than that though, she looked just as confused as Tanya felt.

"...Okay?" There was that look again. Like she´s lost it. She couldn´t blame her. None of them had ever experienced it...until now.

She ran a hand through her curls in exasperation. "Kate, I...I think...I-"

Gods, what was this woman doing to her?

Hands reached for her again, cradling her upper arms like she was made of porcelain. "Tanya...calm, it´s okay." Kate soothed. "I´d ask you to take a deep breath for me, but that´d kinda be in vain, don´t you think?"

Trust her sister to make light of just about any situation. It´s a trait she both curses and cherishes.

"Honestly though...what´s going on? You´re starting to scare me, sis."

Well-

'That makes two of us.'

Yes, this new development did scare her - immensely so. But at the same time, she´s never felt so overcome with purpose and meaning; like everything makes sense now.

In all of her undead existence, she´s never felt so alive.

She couldn´t explain it, even if she tried - one has to experience it to understand. If she had to put a name to it, however-

"Kate..." Her sister took note of her ever-growing smile with a mix of uncertainty and anticipation. Had it still been necessary for her to take a breath, she would have refused to release it in that moment. Tanya was sure of it.

"I think...I think I´ve found my mate."

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

A/N: Well, that kinda escalated. I´m glad it did though, lel.

[apomaro-mellow]

Guitar!Steve 3

Eddie liked Crash's mom. She was the most casual and welcoming of his friend's moms. Jeff's mother took some time warming up to him. Gareth's mom still called him "that boy". His own mother...well the less said about her the better.

That wasn't to say Mrs. Crash's Mom didn't have rules. No shoes on the couch, no touching her cider, and all that jazz. That is to say, Eddie was rightfully nervous about the fact that he'd accidentally taken something of hers and used it to conjure up a whole entire person.

They got to Crash's house and she was in the kitchen, stirring something. She turned and her eyes immediately went to Steve. Before leaving Eddie's trailer, they'd dressed him properly in a shirt and jeans.

"You didn't", she said as she grabbed Steve's chin, turning it this way and that before looking at the whole lot of them. "Which one of you did it?"

Three hands pointed at Eddie right away.

"I-"

"Where did he come from? What was your wish?"

"He's...", Eddie hadn't thought much about telling his friends, but telling a friend's mom? Now the reality and embarrassment was sinking in. "...Uh, he's..."

"I'm his Sweetheart", Steve replied with a smile.

"I don't need to hear anymore", she said, pulling away from him. "Clearly an inanimate object come to life the question is what is the consequence." She began ladling what she had been stirring into bowls.

"Are you making soup in the morning?", Gareth asked.

"I'm making candles, boy. You all can get some cereal from the pantry if you're hungry." Then she pointed to Steve. "You, come help me get something."

Eddie watched as his Sweetheart was pulled away from the rest of them and he anxiously patted at Crash's shoulder. "Hey hey-hey, where's she taking him? Where's she taking my baby?"

Crash looked out the kitchen window. "Over to the garden."

"To do what?", Eddie hissed.

"Whenever my mom takes me to the garden it's usually for a life changing talk. She took me out there when grandma died. And when I got my first pube."

Eddie looked out the window and saw the two of them kneeling by some bushes, picking something and placing them into baskets. Eddie paced, looking up occasionally to see them but couldn't discern what they were talking about. The other three were dutifully eating some cereal.

When the two returned from outside, each carrying a small basket of berries, Eddie immediately went to Steve's side, trying to see if he was okay but was brushed off by Crash's mom.

"Eddie, you're helping me make the jam. Crescent, take your friends, and this one as well", she gestured to Steve. "I need you to deliver some eggs and honey."

Crash groaned and Eddie protested, not wanting to part from Steve again but it was never easy to deny this woman. Soon, he was left alone with her, making jam in a giant pot. They talked a long while. About what life would mean for Steve. About what this new adventure would mean for Eddie. If he was ready for it, to take care of his Sweetheart.

If he was ready to be depended on like that. Eddie was tempted to answer right away. But she knew more about Eddie's life than even if friends. She had been friends with the late Mrs. Munson. So Eddie truly considered it when she asked if he was ready to take care of Steve in all the ways he needed.

When Steve and the boys returned, he ran to Eddie like he was a magnet and kissed him. God his Sweetheart was so sweet, almost like honey. Eddie pulled back, a question in his eyes.

Steve put a finger to his lips. "Don't tell, but we dipped our fingers in a little", he whispered.

"Secret's safe with me, baby." Eddie kissed him again and felt Steve's hands go to his hips.

"You taste good too", Steve murmured against his mouth.

Eddie was about to reveal that he'd dipped a spoon into the jam when someone cleared their throat.

"Well I can tell how only your wish got granted", Crash's mom said. "It takes a very powerful desire to change reality. The stones don't work for just any wish."

Everyone helped with jarring the jam and both Steve and Eddie knew that whatever came next, they'd be in it together for the long haul.

"You know, I just realized", Jeff started to say. "Eddie's never gonna have to meet Steve's parents."

There were a few chuckles from that but Jeff's words caused Eddie to have his own epiphany.

"Oh shit. Steve's gotta meet Wayne."

END

Thank yall for reading this one and all your votes! See ya later :)

Tag Team

@tinyplanet95

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

haii omg!! i don't know how many requests you have but if you don't have time to do this it's okay! it's just an idea i had! so, fem student,, smut,?,, a vampire that is generally quite sweet to all her teachers yet this fact perhaps drives marilyn even crazier because she can't understand why this student seems to have it out for her. she actively teases marilyn, perhaps in more flirtatious ways that marilyn probably doesn't see as flirty, and if she tries to bring it up with other staff she gets dismissed because she's 'so smart' 'so nice' and shit. she might take it as her being a normie but actually the vampire doesn't use this on her except maybe when she's really trying to get her angryyy - so one day when she's hanging around after class or comes to find her in the conservatory in a pretty outfit (i don't want to make it too specific i like when you add things!!), maybe marilyn snaps at the girl and she just finds it funny that she's in a way 'breaking' marilyn down? wearing her down? maybe just bringing laurel out and breaking her facade, in a sense. and marilyn kind of loses herself at this but this is what the vampire has wanted the entire time. she just wants marilyn's attention good or bad and to drive her fucking crazy and she might realise this then,, thank you <3

Yesss here it is!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the laguage mistakes!!!!

Take your mask off

Pairing: Marilyn Thornhill/ Laurel Gates x Fem, Student! Reader

Warnings: Teasing, slightly smut (implied) a little dark

Word count: 2,481

Summary: You were testing how far you could go with her. You didn’t know that her patience would have its limits

 N/A: Requests are open!!! Sorry about the delays, I’m working hard on your requests. I love you all!!!

“Wait a minute, I'd like to talk to you, (Y/N),” Marilyn told you, at the end of class.

You smiled mischievously and sat back down, gesturing for Yoko to continue without you.

“Have I done something wrong, Miss Thornhill?” You asked pouting.

You were that way, always so affectionate with everyone. Your classmates said that sometimes you were too cute, but you didn't care. You had been like this for 20 years, and you would probably be like that for 20 more. Your vampiric nature told you that you had to be more reserved, more introverted. Crap. You didn't know how to be any other way.

You didn't just enjoy your exaggerated displays of affection for everyone, there was something else. Marilyn Thornhill, your botany teacher. Cheerful, kind, affectionate and normi. You couldn't deny yourself the attraction you felt towards her, it would be absurd. But you saw her so shy, so innocent. Her eyes didn't say the same. You had seen enough eyes in your life to be sure of that. Your great desire and illusion was to get that poor woman mad, and throw all possible hints at her.

“No, you haven't done anything wrong, (Y/N), I just wanted to talk to you about the work about wild flowers you gave me last week,” she said, smiling as always. You sighed feigning frustration.

“Talk? Just talk?” You asked. You noticed that she blushed a little and made a strange face. She cleared her throat and went over to her desk to get the documents she was telling you about.

“Um... Well, first of all, I have to say that it's an excellent essay, like all the ones you do,” she said, with a slightly nervous voice.

Another hint that she hadn't taken, or she hadn't wanted to. You found it frustrating and exciting at the same time. How long would it take to realize your intentions? It was a funny challenge.

“I suppose that now comes the ‘but,’” you said with the soft and affectionate voice that you used to use. She nodded. You even seemed to see how her hands trembled.

“I think... I think the part where you say that "no flower can be compared to you" is a bit out of context,” she told you, pointing out the phrase in question. You looked at her and smiled mischievously. Of course, you had not put it by chance. You pretended to be surprised.

“Oh, what a mistake. I probably got confused. It's just that I was watching a love movie while I was writing… and I got a little distracted,” you said dragging your words. You leaned forward to pretend to take a closer look at the sentence, but not before brushing against the redhead's hand. Marilyn pulled away instantly.

“Well… Eh… It's okay,” she said, going back to her desk. You wanted to scream with rage. You couldn't be more direct, and it seemed that she didn't even flinch. “I'll ignore it, besides, the rest of the teachers also speak wonders about you.”

“Really?” You asked, surprised by that statement.

“Yeah. Everyone says that you are very friendly and hard-working…” She told you, leaning on the table.

“And what do you think?” You asked. Your mind was racing too fast trying to find a good answer.

“Me? I don't think they care much about my opinion. Whenever I try to have a conversation they ignore me. Anyway, I don't want to bore you with my problems.”

You got up, having a perfect opportunity to tighten the rope even more.

“Do you know why they act like this?” You asked. Marilyn shook her head, frowning. “Because you are smart, kind… They envy you.”

Her redhead laughed in surprise.

“What a nonsense,” she said between laughs. “But thank you, you are very kind.”

So the days passed. Your subtle jokes stopped being so subtle. You always attacked, with any excuse. Marilyn seemed unaware of anything. You started to get tired of her ignorance and what was worse, you started to think that you didn't interest her at all. You knew a vampire was hard to turn down.

“Kind? Let's see if she is able to resist this,” you said while you put on a slightly special outfit. You didn't usually dress so elegantly, but you were convinced that this would be the day you would set the record straight.

“Where are you going with those looks, (Y/N)?” Your roommate asked. You looked yourself in the mirror and shrugged.

“To take a walk.”

“A walk? It seems that you are looking for war,” she told you, amused. You stuck out your tongue at her mockingly.

Showing your belly button was not very typical of those dates, but you had to take advantage of the fact that the sun was hidden among the clouds. You would not need too much protection for your skin. The cleavage was low, very suggestive, matching the short length of your skirt.

“Maybe,” you said, combing your hair.

“You never tell me anything, who is going to be your victim this time?” Yoko asked, looking at you with curiosity and a puzzled face.

“If I told you, you would never believe me,” you said, winking.

“Try,” your friend challenged, crossing her arms. “You've been doing so many dumb things this semester that I wouldn't be surprised if you went after Weems.”

“Cold, cold...” You crooned, grabbing your bag and heading to the door.

“Hey! Don't run away!” You heard your partner scream when you closed the door. Everything you had that was good was naughty too, looking for absurd challenges often related to other girls. Since Marilyn arrived at Nevermore, all your goals have focused on her. You were fascinated by that woman, and all the secrets that she was surely keeping behind that angel facade.

Every time you passed someone you received a stunned look, probably because of your appearance. You didn't get that fancy or sassy even for the Rave'n dance.

There was movement in the conservatory. Surely the redhead was there, trying to spend her loneliness next to her beloved plants.

You timidly opened the door and the woman was startled to see you, hiding something behind her back.

“(Y/N), you scared me,” she said nervously. You smiled

“I'm sorry, I was really bored and I wanted to stop by here,” you said with a slightly childish tone.

Marilyn nodded, recovering from her shock, and then she stared at you.

“Aren't you cold?” She asked, not taking her eyes off your clothes. You shook your head and bit your lip.

“I'm a vampire, remember?”

“Sur... Sure...” She stammered. “If you're looking for fun, you won't find it here. I'm preparing some things for tomorrow's class,” she said, finally revealing what she had behind her back. They looked like some chemicals or something like that.

“Oh… Are we finally going to do something funny?” You asked jokingly, not giving it more importance.

She smiled and shook her head.

“You always have an answer for everything,” she told you, sighing.

“You know me,” you said, moving a little closer. Marilyn took a few steps back as you approached.

You told yourself enough of the niceties. The redhead's face, completely puzzled, told you that you were on the right track.

“Can I do something for you?” She asked as her back collided with her desk, making those strange vials shake.

“I don't know… Can you?” You asked, picking up one of those vials curiously. Marilyn snatched it from you immediately.

“Do not touch it! I'm still working on it. If it breaks and you come into contact with that liquid you could die,” she told you terrified, putting the vial to a safety place.

“I like danger…” You whispered, completely cornering the redhead. “I love  when my heart beats so fast, see for yourself.”

Without giving it any more thought, you took her hand and brought it to your chest, letting it rest on it gently while you closed your eyes. You could not see her face, but you could hear her breathing quicken. Suddenly, she pulled her hand away.

“What are you doing, (Y/N)?” She asked you with a frown. You shrugged.

“Nothing.”

“Don't take me for a fool!” She shouted unexpectedly. Her gaze was filled with anger. At last her patience had reached her limit, and you couldn't be happier about it. You smiled ignoring her abrupt tone.

“I don't know what you're talking about…” You said indifferently. Marilyn's eyes widened and her lips pursed. She was really mad and you kept pulling the string.

“You lie! You've been after me for months. Making fun of me. You don't leave me alone. What have I done to you? Have I treated you badly? Does it offend you that I am normi?” She asked nervously. You shook your head, trying not to laugh.

“I would never make fun of you…- You said amused.”

“Oh, no? Well, you're laughing your ass off, (Y/N). I see what you want. You have fun playing with people, right? You find it pleasant to test people's limits, to know how far they can endure without collapsing,” she reprimanded you. Her tone of voice was getting darker.

“I think you're wrong…” You said, with a calm tone, tremendously mocking.

“You're the one that's wrong about me, (Y/N),” Marilyn hissed, grabbing your cheek with her hand. You took a step back and smiled even more.

“I like this better,” you said as you could, earning another look of surprise. For a moment her eyes went to your cleavage and looked at it with desire, with a shine that you did not expect to see. “Are you looking at my tits?”

The redhead tightened her grip and her face did not even look the same.

“Do you think I have any interest in looking at your pathetic outcast body?” She asked, pulling so hard that she forced you to lean down a bit.

“I think so,” you said hissing in pain. At last her true personality was out in the open, and you liked her even more.

“I understand... So that was it... You've come to show yourself off in front of me like a whore...” She said, finally letting you go.

You recovered your breath and agreed without any shame.

“Yeah, you finally get it. It's a relief, I was starting to get desperate,” you said, risking patting her on the back. The redhead jerked your hand away, keeping her dark gaze.

“Do you really think I was going to notice you?” She asked ironically. The Marilyn Thornhill you knew was gone forever.

“I don't think so, I’m sure about that,” you said defiantly, running a hand over your chest. “I bet what you want that you would like to see me without this top.”

“You are cheeky, (Y/N). And I don't like cheeky ones.” Now she was the one who was approaching you, stalking you.

“You're shaking, Miss Thornhill. I know you want it…” You whispered, letting her stand in front of you. Her hand went to your hair along with a snarl and she yanked at it violently.

“You're pathetic. A pathetic outcast who assumes everyone has to worship you as you walk past them. You are all the same, you are scum…” She whispered maliciously in your ear, while you endured that hair pull with dignity.

“But you like this scum,” you said with difficulty.

She laughed disturbingly, releasing you. You sighed in relief, until Marilyn grabbed you again and pulled you against the wall, turning you around.

“It's how you all are…” She murmured, unzipping your not very discreet top. “You are amused by the suffering of people…”

“I just want you to suffer for me…” You said, closing her eyes. You loved being right. They all had a dark side. You loved yours.

“If you don't shut up, you will be the one who suffer,” she whispered into your ear, letting your top part fall on the ground and squeezing close to you.

“Are you telling me to shut up?” You asked defiantly, letting her hands go wild on your bare chest. “I have to bite you...” Marilyn laughed incredulously.

“Try it, whore... It will be the last thing you do,” she threatened you, turning around abruptly.

You went in to kiss her, and she didn't reject you, but she did bite your lip. What a curious irony.

She had completely lost control of herself. There was no trace of kindness or good intentions in her words. She had become dangerous, just like in your darkest dreams.

She was crazy. Wild kisses while you were half naked in the old building. Anyone could walk in and see that show. You didn't care, you had finally achieved your purpose, and there would be no one capable of stopping you.

You weren't entirely sure it would work. It did it perfectly, bringing out that dark side that she had kept in the back of her mind. For a moment she scared you, but you weren't going to stop now.

The clothes gradually disappeared, while the caresses intensified.

It was not something romantic, nor affectionate. Somehow it seemed as if she was paying you some kind of irrational hatred. She made you believe that you were at her mercy, that you should obey her, that you had an obligation to give her pleasure. You did it. You hoped that she wasn't aware of your intentions, that she didn't know how you loved being on your knees in front of her, going through the areas that were supposed to be forbidden for a student like you.

Your mouth kissed, your hands caressed. Your whole body was dedicated to making her happy, to pleasing that person who looked like Marilyn, but wasn't Marilyn.

You got something wild from her, unexpectedly she started to fuck you under your skirt. Her words were insults, her attitude was arrogant, but it made you squirm with pleasure.

When your back arched and your muscles tensed, you breathed a sigh of relief. After that, you decided to put aside your absurd personal challenges, and focus on the redhead, could it be the closest thing to a stable relationship that you had? It didn't seem possible.

“Get out,” she told you with a gloomy voice, getting dressed again. You didn't, of course. You went back to the desk humming with satisfaction, looking again at those strange vials, and at that bright blue liquid.

“It's not right to play with these dangerous things. You could inadvertently kill us,” you said ironically. She smiled wickedly.

“It's what I plan to do, (Y/N). Even helpful outcasts like you deserve the same fate.”

You turned suddenly. For a moment you were scared, but she winked at you, which made you think that she wasn't serious at all. How wrong you were.

[dwellordream]

thoughts on TLOU episode 6

the episode definitely moved much much faster than i expected. i thought we’d have a full episode devoted just to reaching Jackson and exploring the community there before seeing ellie and joel leave again.

that said, i understand there’s only 3 episodes left in the season, and they will probably devote at least an episode and a half to the entire David-and-the-cannibals plot point. 

i initially thought they were going to tease joel having a heart attack or something, but it seemed like he genuinely had a panic attack after leaving the elderly couple’s home.

by the way, i think the couple were fun characters, though i wish we’d spent at least the first ten minutes of the episode with them, rather than just two. 

the shot of joel in the cave by the fire, and ellie outside watching the aurora borealis from the cliff was so visually stunning and an excellent example of how good the cinematography in this show is. a lot of post-apocalyptic TV (like the later seasons of TWD) don’t bother at all with being visually interesting beyond gore. 

it’s nice that they included ellie’s love of space and desire to be an astronaut exploring new horizons this early on, since it’s not really mentioned much in the first game.

ellie barking at someone who is clearly a young dina spying on her was really funny, as was tommy’s shock when he realizes that he’s been a communist for like five years now.  

the show adding the fact that tommy is going to be a father is a good change, i think, because it gives tommy more cause to deny joel’s request for help, as was the scene where joel spots a woman who looks uncannily like an older sarah, and her small daughter. had sarah lived, joel could easily have been a grandfather by now.

maria having a 3 year old son who died during the initial outbreak is heartwrenching. 

joel waiting to reveal to tommy that ellie was infected but never succumbed right after ellie goes to see a movie with hundreds of other people seemed perfectly calculated to give tommy a heart attack, lmao.

i do like that the show has been acknowledging joel’s age a lot more than the game ever did, and not just because it’s an actor on screen without any mocap animation. joel’s not as strong as he used to be, or as fast, or as quick-thinking. the reality is his health is likely going to deteriorate very fast after the life he’s led. 

cutting out the part where ellie flees from jackson to an abandoned house and instead having the confrontation just happen in the place they’re staying was the better option, because ellie seems too smart and perceptive to run off in a fit of temper at this point.

the monkey part really did give me a nice jump scare. 

joel getting stabbed was probably a lot easier to film than joel falling out a window while grappling a guy and being impaled on some rebar.

[caointeag]

brutus by the buttress literally changed my brain chemistry re: lyarra ngl, especially her relationships with robb and later jon if/when he gets made king. lyarra loves her brothers and would never do anything against them but she's also struggling against the expectations of her gender and status. she's just as intelligent and capable as both of them but will only be allowed to have power and authority if she fights for it via gaining enough status to be semi-exempt from some laws, denying herself thing that could weaken her claim (which is why she never marries in her main verse), being given power by her brothers, or if there's literally no other option but her.

which is a very frustrating place to be, to be just as necessary and competent and just as good of a choice of leader only to be totally disregarded because of one's sex. which is part of why she takes on the role of the bloodraven type in their family. She'll never be allowed to have power like robb and jon are so instead she pivots in to the world they can't go because of that power. spying, assassination, general roguery -- it's all critical to maintaining one's position but it's also something a king can't do or be seen doing. but she can and she can do it well. her morals, her self-respect, her wellness are all perfectly acceptable prices for her to create and maintain her own seat of power.

she loves her brothers and would die for them, she's completely shattered beyond all recognition or desire to live when robb is murdered. but she's also very resentful of them. she and robb are twins but robb is inheriting everything, he gets to live in winterfell forever while the expectation is that she will eventually be shipped off to somewhere else and possible never see home again despite how really, she'd never want to leave it. and jon has some autonomy over where he gets to go and he picks somewhere lyarra would also really enjoy. honestly it's shocking the kind of unethical shit she would do to get to go be a black brother. she would totally pull a saerella and go there if it wasn't the most blatantly unsafe place for a woman to be. the kinds of places she would love to be like the citadel or the watch are places that are barred from her because of her gender.

and lyarra is really not too unlike brandon or lyanna and just doesn't do well in these kinds of situations where she's constantly told no and denied. she's very angry and spiteful about it. she feels guilty about being that way about her brothers because she loves them but also why them? why do they get everything and she gets sold off and married to someone she barely knows and probably won't like? how is that fair? why do they get power and respect while she carries them and slaves for them and kills for them but never gets much more than a nominal title? why were her and sansa's lives not good enough to trade for jaime's or some other lannisters?

lyric nonsense under the cut

[Verse 1] I've been watching him for my entire life I hate the air he breathes His foolish decrees, his words so contrived And I hate the way the townspeople gather outside They hang on every breath Cling to his chest, home to his heart full of pride The oracle told him to beware the Ides And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't wishing For untimely death or demise Or am I just wishing I could be like you? That the people would see me, too, as a poet And not just the muse

[Verse 2] Oh it's not true, I don't wish harm upon you From birth we've been like brothers Of different mothers Within the spirit of the same womb May the gods strike me down if I forsake you Frater meus, you're beautifully made And to you I'm forever grateful I'll never forget that you showed me to make art And I know the love you showed me Came from a pure and noble heart I love you, and if you want, I'll call you king But why do I lie awake each night thinking Instead of you, it should be me?

[Verse 3] Something wicked this way comes And as I set to face it, I'm unsure Should I embrace it, should I run? What motivates me - hatred? Is it love? What's more wrong - that I too wish to be great Or my mother wished she'd had a son? And even if I can't be the one Maybe I could at least help make way for him Until the day that he comes Maybe my name could also be known That I helped return good to the people And restored greatness to Rome

[Bridge] Brutus, Brutus, Brutus, Brutus Brutus, Brutus, Brutus, Brutus Brutus, Brutus, Brutus, Brutus Brutus, Brutus, Brutus, Brutus

[Verse 4] My name is Brutus and my name means heavy So with a heavy heart I'll guide this dagger Into the heart of my enemy My whole life, you were a teacher and friend to me Please know my actions are not motivated only by envy I too have a destiny This death will be art The people will speak of this day from near and afar This event will be history And I'll be great too I don't want what you have I wanna be you

[Outro] I always knew I could be the one Though I feel the endless pain of being And I am scorched by the sun Of humble origins and born of the cursed sex My name is Brutus, but the people will call me Rex

[torchwood-99]

How Going To War Helped Eowyn Choose Peace

Eowyn was wronged by the people in her family. Not when she was left behind to rule Rohan while they were at war, but before then, when she was constantly left behind every time Eomer and his men rode out, limited in how she may live her life because of her gender, her skills and desires overlooked.

‘My friend,’ said Gandalf [to Éomer], ‘you had horses, and deeds of arms, and the free fields; but she, born in the body of a maid, had a spirit and courage at least the match of yours. Yet she was doomed to wait upon an old man, whom she loved as a father, and watch him falling into a mean dishonoured dotage; and her part seemed to her more ignoble than that of the staff he leaned on. . . . who knows what she spoke to the darkness, alone, in the bitter watches of the night, when all her life seemed shrinking, and the walls of her bower closing in about her, a hutch to trammel some wild thing in?’

Caring for Theoden became solely her responsibility. It was placed entirely on her shoulders, and as she was unable to cure him or prevent his deterioration in the face of Grima and Saruman, even in that duty she felt hopeless.

Meanwhile, the freedom, catharsis and honour she might have found fulfilling duties her brother partook in were denied to her. She had no choice, no chance to do anything else, go elsewhere, be something other than Theoden's walking stick.

She was left alone to deal with those thoughts and those fears and that restlessness. Her own dreams and wishes and ambitions overlooked and ignored. Because she was a woman.

Not only that, she was constantly preyed upon by Grima, who desired her for her beauty and because she was the woman he "loved", and she could do little more than avoid him the best she could. She was trapped because she was a woman, and hounded because she was a woman.

Had those duties been split, had someone; like her brother, took on part of her caring role, so she could have been able to get away from Grima, go elsewhere, mix with her comrades at arms, have the freedom to ride out and partake in "horses, and deeds of arms, and the free fields;" her headset would have been very different by the time we meet her in canon. Still troubled, Rohan is seeing dark days over all, but she wouldn't have been so close to despair.

Nor do I think she would have resented the orders for her to remain and defend her people so much.

Those orders were not a wrong to her, nor were they necessarily a sign she was being limited in her opportunities because she was a woman. She as entrusted with leading and protecting her people, and she was given armour and a sword to do so. She was a leader and a warrior and respected as such. Her people needed defending and as the second line in the throne after Eomer, she was the right choice. If she were a bloke, the decision might very well have been the same.

Had these orders been given in the context of Eowyn not previously being denied freedom and opportunities due to her gender, they may not have been to her preference, but they wouldn't have been a further sign that she was to be caged in. Left behind to wait, only having a chance for valour and glory when the war came to them and all hope as pretty much lost. Left behind to be burned in her house, in the woman's place.

In that context, it would have been a sensible division of duties, one warrior and leader left behind to protect the people, hold the fort and be prepared to fight another day should the others fall.

But that wasn't the context. Eowyn had been suffering at the hands of her family's well meant but soul crushing sexism for too long. With the world likely to end, with everyone she knew and loved going out to meet the foe, and with her spirits destroyed, she decided to ride out in disguise and fight and; probably, die on her own terms, instead of waiting at home until death came for her.

I'm really glad that Tolkien included Gandalf's speech. LOTR doesn't have many women take centre stage, but when Tolkien puts Eowyn in the spotlight, the weight of sexism, the unjustness of it, even at the hands of good men, is acknowledged in its full force.

Tolkien's endgame for Eowyn is obviously directed by the overall message that peace and life is to be desired over war and death, which means Eowyn's happy ending resulted in her no longer wishing for a heroic death on the field above all else, which means that her ending also means choosing a life that we might consider more in line with gender roles than the life of a warrior. This is always going to be somewhat frustrating, especially for gnc who were told they would mature into femininity.

However, for me that's saved by the catharsis of Gandalf's speech, and Eowyn's speech to Aragorn about being permitted to be left in the house to burn.

“And she answered: 'All your words are but to say: you are a woman, and your part is in the house. But when the men have died in battle and honour, you leave to be burned in the house, for the men will need it no more. But I am of the House of Eorl and not a serving-woman. I can ride and wield blade, and I do not fear either pain or death.' 'What do you fear, lady?' he asked. 'A cage,' she said.”

The injustice that has been done to Eowyn due to her sex is called out and explored, by Gandalf and Eowyn herself. And when she rode out to fight, she proved brave and victorious and took a crucial role in the fight, vindicating this decision to seize control of her life, going against gender roles. There was no suggestion that she was wrong to go out and fight, no more than Theoden or Eomer or Aragorn or any of the Fellowship were. The only wrong she had was that her life had no meaning beyond and honourable death. And a large part of her depression is directly attributed to sexism.

While she recovers, and forges bonds with others (having won renown for her actions) she wants to live. She wants to enjoy the sweet parts of life, healing others as she has been healed and loving "all things that grow", a love that is shared by the hobbits and is one of their best traits and is what marks their world view as so admirable. Healing is also something that both men and women do, and healing is a sign that Aragorn is a worthy king and leader, so in-universe, she isn't walking back into the allotted female sphere.

Aragorn himself also tells Eowyn that he does not go to war out of preference, but because he must. His inclinations are for peace as well. It's a good point, and it shows that Tolkien's message applies to men as well as women. But Eowyn's rebuttal also highlights the difference between Aragorn, a man who may make such choices, and Eowyn, a woman who has been allowed little. And the unfairness of that is given its full weight.

So there's two sorts of plot arcs going on with Eowyn. Two messages that can be found in her story. One is that life, hope and peace is to be preferred over war and "glorious heroic deaths", and the other is that the restrictions of sexism on women are cages, soul crushing and likely to push a person to the brink of despair, and that a woman can be as capable as a man; not only in her patriarchally approved role as "carer and keeper of the house", but as a warrior and a fighter as well, and that her individual skills; "I can ride and wield blade", matter more than her gender.

The climax of the latter comes when she fights; alongside Merry, another figure overlooked and dismissed as a warrior, and proves crucial to the heroes' victory, underscored by her triumphant proclamation that she is "no man", completely undermining any claim that war is for men and men alone.

The climax of the former comes about when Eowyn is in the House of Healing, and finds new hope in life and wishes to take on a role in society that brings hope and new life to others. That she makes a decision to be a healer also helps avert any "stay in the kitchen" overtones. She is basically making a career choice, which will give her an active role in society. It will give her a chance to be out and doing things and being proactive, instead of being cloistered within the house, waiting to burn. It is a role that will make her many things to many people, and give variety to her life.

She isn't ending the series as "Faramir's wife" and nothing else. She has made a life choice for herself, which gives her an identity of her own, whereas before she was Theoden's niece, Eomer's sister, the White Lady of Rohan, forever trapped indoors. Instead she is wife of Faramir, Princess of Ithilien, as well as a healer, with a profession in her own right, as well as her husband's consort. Her and Faramir's mutual love supports her and encourages her, as love should do, and one of the things it inspires her to do is to follow this career path and this goal of helping others. Faramir's love helps her, it doesn't consume her.

That's also why it's healthier than her romantic attraction for Aragorn, as when she fell for Aragorn she was putting her final hopes for herself and her future in him, and when she felt rejected she was lost to despair. Whereas with Faramir, their love for each other brings Eowyn enough hope that she can start building a full and satisfying life for herself. One where she has a home and a husband she adores, as well as work and a purpose and control and action. Faramir's love is one of the things that defines her, but it isn't the only thing. She goes from someone with a singular wish, be loved by Aragorn or die with honour, to someone with multiple things to live for, multiple interests and goals to pursue.

And she achieves that life by taking control of her life and defying sexism, breaking out of her cage.

Far from her story about choosing peace and life over war and death being at odds with her story about defying sexism to perform heroics, her choice to pursue peace and life wouldn't have come about, had she not broken free from the hutch that sexism had her trapped in and caused her so much despair in the first place.

[sigilsins]

In  many  cultures  it  is  expected  that  someone  beneath,  or  submissive  to  another,  would  avert  or  lower  their  gaze  —  Quenton  does  not,  it's  something  his  body  refuses  to  do.  Alysanne  is  right:  he  has  been  a  powerful,  dominant  force  throughout  his  life  and  into  his  business  with  The  House  of  Quiet;  the  crack  of  his  whip  is  enough  to  silence  an  entire  company,  he  does  not  even  need  to  speak  more  than  a  word  to  command  his  world.  He's  already  agreed  to  what  she  has  asked,  and  the  way  his  body  reacts  is  proof  that  he  has  not  agreed  under  any  falsehood,  pale  teeth  bite  hard  on  his  lower  lip  as  he  laments  the  heat  of  her  hand  teasing  his  cock,  it  stands  obnoxiously  outwards  from  his  body  as  she  steps  away  and  he  remains  stoic  in  place.  A  raw  sound  growls  in  his  throat  as  he  breathes  deeply,  and  lets  his  golden  eyes  drink  her  in.  He  didn't  expect  this  kind  of  aura  and  disposition  of  her,  nor  truly  of  himself,  even  when  she  is  standing  she  has  to  tilt  her  head  back  to  reach  his  eyes,  yet  she  speaks  and  holds  herself  as  if  she  towers  over  all  others.  The  exhale  he  tries  to  release  turns  into  a  soft  moan  as  dark  eyes  become  fixed  upon  the  sight  of  her  tongue  and  lips  tasting  him  on  her  delicate  fingers,  and  he  realises  it's  not  just  him  who  has  let  out  a  sound  of  pleasure.  The  ache  in  his  abdomen  grows  stronger,  and  his  skin  tingles  with  the  heat  of  wanting.  Still,  he  doesn't  move,  only  to  release  his  already  removed  small-clothes  from  the  hand  at  his  side  so  the  discarded  garment  joins  the  others  with  a  soft  thud  of  fabric.

Every  muscle  in  him  tenses  with  an  internal  challenge,  because  —  even  knowing  he  may  meet  her  height  in  this  position  —  the  request  feels  like  a  tease  and  taunt  in  one.  As  his  gaze  chases  the  fabric  down  her  body,  and  his  cock  twitches;  his  eyes  are  still  taking  the  time  to  drink  her  in  as  she  continues  her  words.  It's  thrilling,  because  beneath  her  demand  for  him  to  submit  to  her  desires...  he  knows  that  she  has  asked  it  of  him,  he  who  can  physically  do  almost  anything  to  the  small  woman  —  it's  a  simple  fact,  and  that  dynamic  reinforces  the  thrill  of  the  tension  building  between  them.  Though  it  hasn't  been  explicitly  said  aloud,  and  despite  the  relentless  desire  to  do  so,  he  doesn't  reach  to  stroke  himself  at  the  sight  of  her  nakedness,  her  words  conjure  images  in  his  mind  that  make  it  hard  to  keep  himself  in  place.  The  groan  is  louder  this  time,  the  final  question  is  what  causes  it,  and  Quenton  takes  a  moment  to  steady  his  mind,  he  can  feel  that  he  already  intends  to  agree,  she  is  too  supremely  placed  before  him,  every  word  like  a  hypnotic  song  written  just  for  him,  and  he  doesn't  have  it  in  him  to  deny  himself  the  pleasure  of  her  touch,  again.  She  has  been  such  a  tease,  it's  almost  like  he's  stepped  into  a  dream  he  didn't  realise  he'd  like  to  experience.  It's  curious,  but  so  delicious.

A  strange,  unexpected  sort  of  smile  pulls  at  his  features;  perhaps  its  the  subconscious  acceptance  of  submitting  to  a  woman  as  Lysa  describes,  or  perhaps  it  has  something  to  do  with  the  devourable  treat  before  him,  just  out  of  reach.  His  hand  finally  moves,  sliding  from  his  hip  across  to  his  lower  abdomen  and  then  to  wrap  around  the  base  of  his  cock,  straining  and  hard  to  the  touch,  Quenton  squeezes  firmly  and  it  causes  a  ripple  of  sensation  to  course  through  every  part  of  his  body,  and  allows  his  mind  to  wonder  how  she  would  feel  atop  him,  and  his  ego  wonders  if  she  will  be  able  to  handle  his  size.  The  Summer  Islanders  are  blessed  with  strength,  with  beauty,  and  with  their  burning  golden  eyes,  but  above  all  they  are  blessed  with  size;  in  height,  and  many  other  aspects.  "If  you  desire  it,"  Queton's  voice  is  deeper,  raspier  than  intended  and  half  of  him  is  now  referring  to  his  body  and  not  all  the  questions  she's  asked.  The  decades-experienced  mercinary  continues  letting  his  gaze  rake  helplessly  hungry  over  her  nakeness,  in  the  places  his  hands  can't  yet  touch,  "—  then  I  will  see  it  done,  my  lady.  Tell  me  what  you  wish  of  me."

under her ministrations alysanne can feel him grow. for a moment she wonders if it is too much, but her pride will not allow her to submit to such thoughts. if she can mount a dragon, the man before her will not best her. already she can feel her arousal making her thighs slick at the idea of taking him. much as quenton tries to restrain himself, it is impossible for him to hide his own desire when a drop of it leaks over to rest on her hand. is she cruel to present such a challenge to him? never has she considered herself so, but to watch the way quenton stills himself from responding, even alysanne pities him. a small mercy then, to drag her fist over him. base to tip feel her touch as she repeats the motions.

within her grip she feels him tense, his cock quivering at her attentions, and she pulls away. now that is definitely cruel. retreating two steps, her eyes drift from his cock to her hand. returning to his gaze, alysanne licks his pre-cum from where is rests on her skin. a soft moan at the taste. her lips curl up into a vixen's smile. ❝ you would fulfill my every desire? ❞ that is a formidable power to hold over another person. her hands raise up to reach behind her neck, undoing the clasp that holds up her gown. in a flutter of silk, her breasts are exposed as the material catches for a moment on her hips before pooling around where she stands. both as naked at the day they were born, but alysanne feels no shame. ❝ would you kneel before me if i asked? name me the most beautiful thing you ever beheld? ❞ neither of which is her current desire. ❝ would you sit and let me sink down on you? let me ride you until neither one of us knows where the other begins? ❞

[swtki]

Enemy - E. C

Pairing: Edward Cullen x Vampire! Fem! Reader

Summary: Edward meets his seductress once again

Warnings: Smut, 18+ content, banter between muses, femdom, Sub! Edward, not in an alternate universe just set in the seventies, Volturi! Reader, oral (m), mention of Edward being killed, swearing of course, Vaginal sex, kinda dubcon but not really? Public alley sex.

A/N: Edward smut is hard you mfs better love this.

If he had a working heart, he was sure it would be pounding so loud the whole city could hear. He sat on his balcony, eyes scanning the crowded Paris streets. To find her, the woman who was to destroy him. Alice had warned him just a week ago, her vision being one of chaos and pain. Behind it all, was a womans face. Not just any face however, it was Y/N. A member of the Volturi, whose heart was set on pulling him limb from limb. Everyone in the house had decided it would be best if Edward were to depart from their permanent home, flee to Paris for a short time. He was akin to being alone, but to be alone while watching over your back 24/7 was not the same. While he hated every second of his existence; He knew that if he were to give up and let her kill him, she would surely only continue to his family. He couldn’t let that happen, so he kept moving in the shadows. She wouldn’t move on until she had his head.

He racked his brain, trying to figure out a long term plan as this could only work for so long. She was strong, killing her wouldn’t be easy nor would it be something he wanted to do. Perhaps he could change her mind, he could talk her down from her dedication.

He sighed, walking into the main room and grabbing his jacket.

He needed to eat.

The elevator ride down was slow, and he tapped his finger against his thigh. How he hated human life, but at the same time desired it more than anything. Tedious elevators, the need to eat every single day, the need to sleep. The doors finally slid open, allowing him to walk down the lobby and out of his building.

The street was unusually crowded at this time, the past five days the streets were deserted as soon as the clock struck nine-pm. He couldn’t run to the closest forrest or country plaine, he needed to leave the area before they could see him take off.

So, he started walking. Voices filled his head - the French didn’t try to hold back compared to Americans. Thats when he realized, it was friday night. There were people flooding the streets. More specifically, humans flooding the streets.

“Shit.” He breathed out, knowing that he’d not only have to cancel his meal, but interrupt someone else's. He started walking to the loud music, cursing himself for being this stupid. Who other than Edward Cullen would want to find his potential murderer?

As people danced to the music, he slid toward the bar. He ordered a beer to maintain face amongst the others around him.

“Merci.” He started to turn back to the dancing bodies, but stopped when he heard the order the bartender was receiving.

“Un whisky et un verre de ce champagne.“ The man said, waiting for his drinks to be prepared. Thats when Edward realized. He had ordered champagne. Both the human man and the bartender had thought it was weird someone would order champagne in a club like this. But she always ordered champagne, always. It was what she would tell her victims to order before she took them outside.

He watched the man take the drinks, hoping he was wrong about the partner. He cursed as he realized he wasn’t. She drank, flirted, and of course lured him outside. Throwing some coins on the bartop, he quickly followed. But, he was too late. Her body was flush against the human mans, she was having a bloody good meal. Edward would be lying if he didn’t debate joining her.

“I see you’re still denying your nature.” She pulled off of him, letting the body drop as she stood still.

“I see you’re still wearing red so you don’t need to worry about stains.” He replied. She smiled and turned to him, looking him from head to toe. “I don’t know why you still despise me after all these years, Y/N.” her smile faded.

“Despise you? No, Edward I quite admire you.” She walked over to him and pressed her hand to his shoulder, “I really do think you’re one of the strongest of our kind. You could be stronger, but you suppress yourself. You drink rats blood, while I drink how our kind is meant to. Shame, really.” She walked behind him and her hand wrapped around his neck. He couldn’t move, her powers overtook him. “Imagine the life you and I could lead if you would just submit”. He shuddered at the last word. He was always a sucker for her when it came to seduction and she knew it.

“What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing much. I just want the natural order to be restored.” She smiled and kissed his neck sofly. “Imagine yourself, in Italy with the most powerful of our kind. You could have me every night - for the rest of eternity.” his eyelashes fluttered as she continued kissing his neck. “Do you want to see how good it would feel to be with me every night?”

“Please.” He whimpered. Thats all she needed to release him from her grasp and push him against the dark brick wall. Their lips connected as if they were puzzle pieces, moving in perfect harmony with each other. She pulled away, slithering down on her knees, she was going to make him realize how much he needed her.

“Shall I?” She asked, running her hand up his thigh softly.

“Yes, God, please.” Edward begged, she loved hearing him beg for her touch.

“You always were weak when it came to sex, wonder if you still moan at the smallest, little,” Her hand groped his growing cock. His stomach fluttered with pleasure, and he couldn’t hold his moan, “Touch. Edward, you can read my mind, you can see what I have planned.” He looked inside her head, seeing the pleasure she could inflict upon his body if he would just wave a white flag.

As she took off his trousers, he debated surrendering or not. Was she worth living a life he wanted nothing more than to shun? Every time they saw each other, the sex was electric almost. She made him feel like a prey being hunted by a predator, and he loved that. As much as he hated to admit it, part of the reason he kept turning down the offer was because he didn’t want to ruin the cat and mouse relationship. He knew she loved the chase, that was why she was so persistent. But did he still feel a hatred towards her? Yes. He had seen her slaughter entire groups because she didn’t get her way. But tonight, he decided, he would wave a white flag and lower it once the sun rose.

He snapped back to reality, she hooked her fingers around the waistband of his briefs, looking up at him through her long lashes. He looked down, beginning to place his hands on her head, but was stopped by her pinning him to the wall. Her gift was useful in many situations.

Tugging down, she smiled when his dick was finally isolated. He was all hers tonight, he was painfully hard for her and only her. Her hand grasped the shaft, pumping a few times before licking a long stripe up. He made a moan of pleasure and she rewarded him with taking his length down her throat. She gagged and felt his hips buck, making her withdrawal.

“Wait-” He began.

“No, you broke the rules. What did I tell you about greed, Edward?”

“That it had no place in our sex life.” She smiled and stood, slapping his cheek a few times.

“Dress. We’ll be going to my hotel room, you may not deserve anything, but I do.” He rushed to pull up his pants and follow her.

She pushed him down on the bed as soon as the door was shut, lifting her dress up, she straddled him.

“Imagine, you agree and this is every night for the rest of our time.” Pulling down his pants she spat on her hand and guided him to her slick cunt. He slid in with ease, making her eyes roll into her skull. He could hear her mind scramble as she slowly rocked her hips. “Feel so fucking good, shame you have to be so fucking stupid.”. He was sure if he had blood he would have just bitten it and bled out. She was so fucking hot, watching her nails dig into his firm stomach. He adored her from this angle, especially when she didn’t even bother to to take her clothes off.

“Can I touch you, please?” She smiled and nodded, letting his hand move so his thumb could skillfully rub her clit, making the coil in her stomach tighten. Her movements got faster, and he heard her mind beg for more. He slightly lifted his hips while continuing his fingers. Her orgasm washed over her, causing her to scream out in pure bliss. She stopped her hips, swinging her leg over his body and straightening her dress. He looked at her in confusion, he still hadn’t cum.

“You can cum when you agree to join me. I had my fun, now leave.” She said coldly. He pulled his pants back up, stumbling back to the apartment he had spent every night and day in. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t consider saying yes to her.

As long as it was her

—

Like my content? Reblog! It helps me out so much and shows others my work. So, all I ask is that you reblog it!

[rcksmith]

Dream a little of me — Kaz Brekker

Resume: One bed and two hearts.

Requests :”Hello, darling! Could I request sleeping with kaz? Imagine or general headcanons, as you like. No nsfw (no need of touching tho, do what you like with it!), just sleeping in the same bed - maybe for the first time. Also bonus points if one of them will have a nightmare👀Have a good night/day, hun!🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️✨✨✨💗💗💗”

“My heart asks for all the angst of touch starved reader falling for Kaz Brekker... 😭😭😭 - 🐕‍🦺”

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Grisha Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mention of post-traumatic stress, angst, fluff.

Word count: 3k.

A/N: Thank you💖 I hope you guys like.

Normal Rules.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake. Requests are open. Love you❤️

— — — — —

The rain was pouring down in torrents, in a fierce storm that roared into the shadowy forest like a hideous, unearthly animal. Platinum lightning’s streaked the midnight sky and thunder rumbled like as giants footsteps crashing into the ground and shaking the earth. Everything had been orchestrated to work. But nothing could have gone more wrong.

Unfortunately, not even Kaz Brekker's millions of tricks and plans could defeat the force of nature. And even you, an Infernal Entherealki, hadn't mastered the art of controlling fire or keeping warm while under a torrent of icy, biting cold water.

Your teeth started chattering, your lips turned purple, and you wondered if you could run another inch. Your muscles felt like stones and for someone who had lived with the heat of the flames his whole life, being under freezing water was extremely painful. But Kaz wouldn't let you stop. And you, as excruciating as the pain was, didn't want to stop either. The pain was strong but the desire not to let him down was more.

The two of you part of the plan that night was to go through the forest with the diamonds in pockets and find the rest of the Crows on the other side. You two would have to spend the night in that place. But all of Brekker's machinations were washed away by the treacherous and atrocious rain.

The only alternative was to run. Run to the direction where there was a small civilization and pray to find an inn or not die of hypothermia.

The angry drops of icy water were enough to steal Kaz's breath. Not because the cold was unbearable, but because his own demons, his past, were ghosts that gripped his ankles like monsters from horror stories. He didn't feel the rain, didn't feel the biting wind, Kaz just felt the sensation of the freezing, oppressive ocean drowning him. And for a second, when he looked at the small strip of fur on he wrist that wasn't hidden by his glove and coat, he swore he saw Jordie's dead skin in place of his.

He had to get out of there. But when the storm started, and Kaz run his eyes at you, your face wet from the rain, your skin constantly whipped by the cold droplets, and your cheeks extremely red from the cold, it made him gasp in a very different way. Blood pooled in your cheeks. Pulsing. Alive. He had to get you out of there.

Finding hiding places was one of his specialties, and he focused his mind entirely on it. When an inn came into view, a small relief rumbled in both of you. And Kaz looked in your direction to make sure you were okay. Alive.

As the receptionist gave the key from the last spare room to the two of you, Kaz couldn't help but feel that there was no longer any heat pulsing in your body. That made him feel miserable.

The night was cold. Unusually cool for the time of year.

"I don't think it's a good idea to carry out a robbery like that in these climatic temperatures." Inej said, walking down the stairs after Kaz "One of the Dregs caught a serious cold too while you were away."

Kaz had to be away for two days to sort out some matters of his own. Check some ship ports and finding out the weaknesses of some new merchants. And as much as he ordered his thoughts to focus solely on that purpose, he found himself daydreaming at certain times about…

"It got very serious after a few hours." Inej completed.

Kaz felt a trickle of worry trace his veins, tighten his throat But it wasn't for some bruteman of his Dregs. His source of concern was more serious, deeper, and for someone he didn't want to think about too much. Even though he told himself to keep every nerve in his body under control, in the end he was Kaz Brekker, he couldn't help but notice he picked up his pace to get faster to the live room that was strictly reserved for the Crows.

And when he walked in, following by Inej, the tree branches hit the windows, blown by the wind, tinkling. The cold was oppressive and biting, but not enough to stop Jesper from playing cards with Wylan, nor enough for Nina not to eat her candy and listen to Matthias tell of his people's legends. But the eyes of Kaz, that treacherous and treacherous organ, ran to you first. Magnetically, inevitably.

And he felt like he could breathe again.

The sight of you sitting on the black velvet sofa, with a book in your hands and your legs stretched out on the padded stool in front of you, calmed Kaz's heartbeat as nothing had ever done.

As much as he denies, in those two days his mind has swarmed over you more often than he thought wise. Brekker liked to justify that action with the fact that you were part of the gang. As close and important as Jesper or Inej. It was normal for him to be worried about the Dregs.

But why did he only see you? Why did the questions about your well-being and comfort stood out so much from any other concerns with others?

It was you. Always late at night, when Brekker was a sigh away from sleep. You were what someone he was thinking.

"Who is alive always appears." Nina announced he arrival and Kaz was pulled out of his reverie.

"Did you kill anyone these two days?" Jesper placed a letter on the table and Inej sat beside Nina.

Kaz left his hat on one of the dark marble tables. “Does it matter?"

There were other seats available in the room. A leather armchair next to the burning fireplace - Brekker were sure that you was controlling the temperature - an extra chair around the table where Jesper and Wylan were play, and a small divan beside Matthias. But Kaz sat beside you on the couch.

You marked the page with your finger, lowering the book gently. He didn't need to see the cover to know what it was. It was a romance clichéd eighteenth-century. He had given it to you before he left.

"Everything worked?" You smiled and Kaz had the feeling that he wanted to memorize that smile in a painting to always appreciate it.

"And doesn't always do?"

Even with the biting cold that wasn't stopped by the fireplace, Brekker could feel the heat from your body emanating, like a delicious temptation. You were always so hot. Bathed in the sun's rays. He didn't know if infernal grisha like you gave off so much heat too, because it was impossible for that to be human. Were so intense...delicious. Even with multiple layers of clothing, if Kaz approached you he could feel the warmth of a tropical pirate island.

Was that why he always unconsciously sat beside you? Why did you radiate so much causticity that it made Kaz forget about the ocean's cold? Why were you like a piece of life and Kaz felt dead for a long time?

Or was it because, heat or not, you were the only thing worth being around?

All the questions were too disturbing. And Kaz Brekker didn't want to know the answer.

Now, even climbing the stairs to the room beside you, Kaz couldn't feel anything radiating from you body. Just the cold. And he hated it with every force of his being.

You're not made to take the rain, felling deadly cold, or turn your lips a bluish hue.You were not made to be cold as a corpse, with muscles stiff and sore like a dead. You were not made to look like Jordie. You were meant to be alive. To look alive. Exhale the heat of the most ardent fire and heat a room just with your presence. You were meant to scare off Kaz's winter with your summer.

For a second, Kaz wanted to hug you to give you the warmth of his own body.

You felt exhausted. The remnants of what you once day were. Every inch of your body protested, aching and tearing at muscles. The cold, sharp water did you no good. You didn't know if it was were something of your species or a trait unique to you. But it didn't do any good to you. You hated looking so miserable in that appearance, especially in front of the one man you always wanted to look beautiful to. But at that moment you were in too much pain to worry so much about it.

As soon as Kaz had put the key in the doorknob, his gloved fingers stiff from the cold, what you expected to find was a cozy room, promising a heat shower and a good, well-deserved night's sleep. But that wasn't it. You stared at the wide double bed with white sheets, perplexed. Shock competed with your pain and put your brain to work, and all your breath lurked in throat as your realized the situation.

Oh my fucking God.

You didn't have to look at Kaz to feel his entire body be rigid, in a way far more potent than the effects the rain had caused. As if the prospect of sleeping next to you was more whorse than dying of hypothermia.

You closed your expression. Half because your mood was already bad and half because the rejection was brutal. You didn't expect your passionate feelings for Kaz to be returned, nor did you expect him to feel the same longing to be close to you as you felt for him. But no woman wanted to see that a man would rather die of hypothermia than share a bed with her. Even more if he was a man she was in love with.

You entered in room first, the pain in your body clouding your thoughts.

"Do you mind if I shower first?"

Your voice was weak, and you didn't have the heart to look at Kaz. He hissed a “no” that hung in the air, and that was the last thing you heard before closing yourself in the bathroom.

His heart was beating eerily fast in his chest. As loud as the thunder outside and as unsettling as the chill of rain. His breath began to burn heavily in his throat, and suddenly his entire body was fully aware of the situation.

One bed.

Even when he took the diamonds out of his pocket and placed them on a small table, even when you came out of the bathroom and he walked in, even as he basked in the hot water, his heart still pounded wildly. Like a generator.

Kaz Brekker liked puzzles, challenges. Of things he could unravel and understand. Piece by piece. He played to win and to cheat, and the world knelt at his feet before the insight of his mind. Still, he didn't know what to do. You were like a fascinating and maddening riddle. The one thing that, no matter how hard Kaz tried, could never unravel yours mysteries. Or maybe, just, what he would never be able to do was unravel what he felling whenever he was by your side.

His heartbeat grew stronger.

Brekker remembered every deck of cards, every card played. He could keep up with the distribution of up to five decks, unlock any lock, and devise the most insane plans. But he couldn't stop the way his soul trembled whenever he laid eyes on you.

In those moments, when you looked at Kaz like he was someone much better than he actually was, Kaz wanted to be good. He wanted to be born again to become a damn decent man. For you. He wished he didn't have his demons and erase his past. Because that way, when the sun's rays hit your face and you were close enough for your scent of happiness to flood his senses, Kaz wouldn't back down. He would lean down and seal his lips in yours with the promise of a glorious future.

His heart beat faster.

Why did he feel that his whole life was always suspended whenever he were away from you? And why did he have the feeling his life could change forever if he walked out that door?

Kaz turned off the shower. The heart running like a horse. He fished out the towel and wrapped it around his waist, finding a small hamper that held neat, folded pajamas for guests. He was surprised he didn't notice you in those pajamas. You made him lose focus.

As soon as he dressed and walked out of the bathroom, his eyes immediately went to your figure. Sitting on the bed, your legs under the covers, your hands clasped together in a cupped shape with a small, flare of fire burning in the center.

You looked up at Kaz. “I managed to do something to warm you up.”

The phrase was: No for warm me up. No for warm us up. For warm you up.

Kaz lost his breath and his soul trembled. The air felt different since he stepped out of the shower, not just from the recent gust of heat. But there was something else, something lyrical, pink and lush. Something...beautiful. He did not say anything. First because he didn't trust his own words and second because he didn't know what to say. He sat beside you, a considerable distance away, but this time his fear was that you would hear the loud, racing beat of his heart.

You turned gently towards him, reaching out your hands towards him, not noticing how his hands trembled as they stretched under the hot flame. Kaz swallowed hard.

He knew how weak and drained you were, but he also knew you were aware that he loathed cold. Hated icy water. You didn't know the depth of his traumas, but the fact that you cared to the point that you were willing to use your last shred of strength to end his torment was something that reverberated in his soul.

You two didn't say anything else after that. After Kaz removed his hands from the flame, you understood that as the end of your two interactions. You two shared a mutual answer that neither would sleep on the floor. You two were adults and in no condition to be lashed by any colder.

The night moon bathed the dark room with lights in distilled silver, almost flickering through the windswept tree branches. You were back-to-back, blankets pulled up to your shoulders, breathing gently quickened. As exhausted as you two were, neither of you could sleep.

Suddenly, the whole atmosphere in room seemed to change. Like a private, enchanted piece of the world. The wind howled softly, on a calm note. The rain was still falling in torrents, but now it seemed to be adopted in a passionate tone. As if it had fulfilled its purpose and now hovered in the world with a romantic veil of water. Stars shining bright above the bedroom window, glittering like hundreds of tiny diamonds, accompanied by moonlight. Although the light was dim, it seemed to capture the lyrical essence, seem to whisper “Dream a little dream of me.”

Everything felt different, like the two of you had entered a rift in the world. A part inhabited romance, pure magic, love.

Your soul shivered, and as much as you could never prove it, you felt that Kaz's soul shivered too. Your breath hitched, burning in lungs, your body seized by a caustic tingle that snaked through every inch.

You didn't know why, but your body shifted gently on the bed, turning slightly towards the ceiling. The racing pulse in your veins. A second felt like an eternity. Kaz's body moved too, and you knew, just knew, that he was looking at the ceiling too.

Two hearts beating in the same time. Synchronized. And, by some magic or deity, you two knew that your heartbeat would never again beat another way. Always connected.

Your body moved a little more, now on belly up. And Kaz's seemed to do the same move, even without seeing you or your movements. His chest rising and falling with intensity. The rain calmed outside, turning the symphony of droplets hitting the roof into mysterious, passionate music. As if the world were plotting a whispering favor for you two.

Kaz could feel your body heat radiating once more, grazing his skin with rays of sunlight. Everything in that bedroom became poignant and intense and lyrical, inflicting sensations on him that Kaz never thought existed before. Later, it would be a shock for him to see that he was at the mercy of his own passions. Overcome by sensations that robbed him of control of his body. Later he would think about it. Later.

His soul tingled, sending gusts of heat from the inside out. The feeling was that, after 28 years of deep sleep, he had awakened. Awake. Alive.

His body moved once more, now completely on belly up. Kaz didn't have to look at you to know that you too had placed yourself in the same position. It was as if he felt the movements of your soul. His pulse was racing now, hot and boiling in his blood. And Kaz wondered if all the money in the world would bring half the sensations he was feeling right now.

What was he so afraid all this time? That question echoed through all the corridors of his soul. And Brekker feared for the answer. What kept him from having everything he craved?

Money? Pekka? Jordie's ghost and the cold ocean? Kaz feared never touching you any more than he feared his demons? Was that why he always walked away from you? Why was wanting to slide his fingers into your hot skin and not being able to fell you, be worse than any sensation he'd ever felt? Because, maybe, admitting it can change everything?

His breath hitched.

Would it be worse to be alone for the rest of his life? Doomed and cursing to a fate of revenge, death and red hate? Or, even worse for his heart, finding a girl with lovely eyes, sunny smiles and the smell of happiness? A girl that made him laugh, come out of his hiding. You. What do he will do with that? What if you open up the door that he can't close it? And If when you hold he and his heart is set in motion?

Would that be so bad? No.

His body became very aware of the approximation it was on to your. Your heat radiating into his. For some reason, Kaz was sure you was in the same condition as he was. Sharing the same feelings. The same passion hidden for so long.

Kaz should have thought of his brother, of revenge against Pekka Rollins, of the cold of the ocean. He should have weighed of his own traumas. Instead, he thought: What if I get a little closer?

The result of this was his fingertips brushing yours. And he knew the exact moment your heart sped up even more. Because his followed the same beat. Maybe following yours for the rest of his life.

You brought your eyes to him, calmly, as if that moment might disintegrate. and the world seemed suspended in that moment. Kaz slid his eyes to you as well, sharing sensations and emotions that didn't need to be put into words. It was all there, in the gaze.

His fingers crept higher, going to your hand, and plunging his touch - and his soul - into that contact. All your heat was too strong. Too intense. Doing Kaz wouldn't be able to think or feel, for the first few minutes, about anything but light, heat, summer and…happiness.

That's when you gave him a shaky, emotional smile. I would do anything for you. That's what that smile said. And Kaz answered, his hand tight with yours before letting go. Me too.

- -

As the sun's rays, shy and buttery, flooded the bedroom in soft color, Kaz's eyelids fluttered. The sound of birds reached his ears, and the scent of flowers and happiness invaded his nose.

It was nothing like waking up in Ketterdam.

That thought back him to reality. A reality in which he had stolen many diamonds, taken the rain and had to share the calm. A reality where Kaz Brekker touched you.

You.

Kaz opened his eyes immediately, his heart racing again. He looked frantically around the room, past the simple furniture, the closed bathroom door, the window where the light came in, and then looked to his side on the bed. That's when he realized what position he was in.

His soul heated up.

You had your back to him, your hair spread out on the white pillow, your back showing by your pajama top, your shoulder rising and falling softly with your resonant breathing. You were close. Very close. And Kaz finds, perplexed, that he is facing you. One arm rests around your waist, over the thick blankets, in an intimate and…romantic gesture.

He lost his breath. His warm, hope-shining soul whispered to him: what if it was like this every day? What if he woke up with you by his side forever? What if in time he learned to be a decent man? Trying to be normal?

Would Kaz do this for you?

You shifted in bed, turning onto his side, front for him, snuggling deeper under his touch and moving closer, as if Kaz were your oasis in the desert. No skin was actually touching, your breath hit his warm chest, and if Kaz lowered his lips even further, he could feel your lips on his.

Yes. He would.

[babyboibucky]

Devil’s Mark: Take You To Heaven

Pairing: CleanRockstar!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: Months after your encounter with the devil, you cross paths with him again.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: TW! Drug use, oral (F receiving), fingering, unprotected high p in v sex, face slapping, titty slapping, spanking, choking, slight degradation, blasphemy (??? idk but this has a lot of bible references), anal play (F receiving), implied edging, creampie, MINORS I BEG OF YOU DNI

A/N: If anybody comes for his ass again I will fucking delete this entire series lmfao and this was indulgent in a way that I added and emphasized unnecessary shit just to prove that he is clean as fuck LMAOOOO

Shoutout to @borikenlove and @lokiscollar​ who have been begging me to finally update this shit after months of abandoning it, I lub u both for loving Clean!Rockstar!Bucky 🥰 and also to my lil baby Mango @aquahogcodes​ for helping me out decide on some stuff skskskks 😈

Devil’s Mark Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

How do you repent for a sin that you wanted to keep on committing?

That encounter with Bucky and how you felt afterwards left you conflicted. It wasn’t something you were supposed to enjoy, to reminisce about, to touch yourself to on nights you usually prayed. It was a deadly sin and you wanted to kneel down and pray for forgiveness but instead, you found yourself dreaming about being on your knees in between Bucky’s thighs.

The scar that the cigarette burn left on your thigh only made it harder for you to revert back to your life before you’d met Bucky.

The daylight was your denial, filled with regrets and empty promises to completely forget about Bucky and how he made you feel. But come the darkness and you were back to the person you never intended to become— one who was desperate to sin over and over again.

So when you caught a glimpse of the devil promoting his upcoming road tour, you made sure to take a mental note of all the locations he was going to visit and which of those were the easiest for you to travel to.

-

You waited patiently for Bucky as soon as his show was over and ironically, you started praying to ask for enough courage for a confrontation. This was wrong, this was so wrong but the thought of Bucky making you his the same way he did to you made your body buzz from desperation.

“You’re killin’ me, sugar.”

Even his voice alone made you shudder from desire, and hearing that pet name only made your desire for him a little too much to handle. Your thighs clenched and your mouth parted as a shaky breath slipped past your quivering lips.

You turned around and you finally saw him again but your excitement died down as soon as your eyes landed on the woman who was clinging on to him, giggling at the pet name he used on her.

Bucky looked the same as the last time you saw him, messy black hair and kohl-rimmed eyes that only emphasized his gaze. He was clad in a black, short-sleeved button down shirt that was left open, showcasing the tattoos you had memorized just by spending a night with him. The woman next to him started pressing kisses on his neck as they walked and it left a bitter taste in your mouth. Your throat dried up when your eyes met Bucky’s as he neared where you stood, sending a wink your way before brushing past you.

You scoffed and before you knew it, you caught up with him and blocked his way with a scowl on your face. The woman glared at you and tried to tug Bucky away but he stood still, staring at you with an amused grin.

“Can I help you, pretty girl?” he asked.

Bucky didn’t recognize you, he actually forgot about you and how he marked you on that night. Ignoring the pang of pain that struck your chest, you stood your ground and called him out on his bullshit.

“You have got to be kidding me.” you said.

Bucky laughed, bringing a hand up to rub at his stubbled chin. “That frown on your pretty face says that I must have fucked you and then forgot about it.”

You scoffed, unable to believe that Bucky wasn’t even denying that he had totally forgotten about you. Was it even worth all the time and effort to come and see him again? Suddenly, regret washed over your entire being and you wanted nothing more than to run away.

“I fucked you didn’t I?” Bucky asked again, cooing at the woman beside him when she whined about not having his attention.

Not sure whether you wanted to get involved again, you refused to answer Bucky’s question until he clicked his tongue, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him.

“I asked you a question, pretty girl. Did I fuck you real good that you decided to come crawling back to me?”

Bucky had a way with his words and touches. In that moment, you were no longer his sugar whom he corrupted. You were his pretty girl and you’d do anything to make sure he’d remember you this time.

“Yes.” you whispered.

Bucky hummed, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth. The lust in his eyes was there yet again and being on the receiving end of it made you feel high. His hand on your chin moved to cup your jaw as his thumb ran along your lips. And just like the first time you met him, you were so entranced by his charm that you completely forgot about the other woman next to him.

Bucky watched how you easily allowed his thumb to move past your lips, flicking your tongue against the pad and then sucking it into your mouth.

“Hmm, fuck.” he grunted before pulling his thumb back and then looking at the woman beside him, cursing her to scram despite her protests.

“How about a trip down memory lane, pretty girl?”

-

Bucky’s trailer was unlike any other trailer you’ve seen. Given that he was popular, it shouldn’t be surprising how huge it was. The familiar scent of leather and smoke invaded your senses, bringing you back to the reason why you came here in the first place.

“When and where did we fuck?” He asked, a cigarette stick hanging loosely on his lips.

He had always been so casual and straightforward about everything. Even after he had tainted you, you still couldn’t get used to it. You felt your cheeks heat up at his question as you awkwardly stood in the middle of his trailer.

“You’re so fuckin’ shy, it makes me wanna ruin you and your pretty face.” Bucky commented as he lit up his cigarette, keeping his eyes on you as he took a long drag.

“I mean, I probably did.” He said with a shrug before approaching you, “So c’mon and remind me.”

You pursed your lips, taking Bucky’s hand in yours while hoping he’d ignore how cold your palms were. You brought his hand onto your right knee, slowly sliding it up beneath your dress. Bucky’s fingers were quick to graze your skin until it reached the small bump on the inside of your thigh.

Bucky’s eyes slightly widened and just like that, a tinge of familiarity appeared on his face. He chuckled out loud as he shook his head.

“No fucking way.” He said, pinching your thigh before taking a step back.

“You’re that sugar. Fuck.” Bucky said.

“Don’t call me that.” You snapped, hating how Bucky must have probably called every woman he fucked by the same name.

You didn’t mean to sound so jealous, but you wanted Bucky to yourself. You’d given in to him, forgot about your morals and you let him desecrate you. He fucking burned a scar on you so it was only right for him to be yours as much as he claimed you to be as his.

“Aww you wanna be special, don’t you? Want me to be yours and only yours, my pretty girl doesn’t like to share?” Bucky asked as he played with the hem of your skirt.

“I don’t…I’m not…” you sputtered.

Every single time Bucky subjected you under his gaze, you felt intimidated. One second you’re confident but right in his presence you’d cower. Your hands twitched at your sides as Bucky stared at you, just taking in your entire form as if he was undressing you with his eyes.

“You’re always so fucking tensed around me, pretty girl. Gotta loosen you up a bit, get all nice and ready for me, hm? You wanna do that for me? That’s why you came here to see me, didn’t you?” he asked, his tone patronizing.

Bucky didn’t seem to have the patience to wait for an answer because he never gave you enough time to even think about your decisions. For some reason, it worked for you, having someone decide for you was thrilling.

And when Bucky does it to you, you would always give in the same way Eve took the forbidden fruit from the devil.

Bucky sat you down on his couch next to him before leaning towards the coffee table. You watched him as he took out a tiny plastic bag containing a white powder, pouring it on the table and then proceeded to create two lines out of it. The way his fingers moved put you in a trance, remembering how those fingers felt inside of you.

“You ever done something like this?” he asked, you timidly shook your head.

His devilish grin made your heart race; without saying a word, Bucky bent down to snort the first line expertly like he’d done this plenty of times now. He growled as he rolled his shoulders, throwing his head back to savor the effect of cocaine.

Bucky then turned to you, “Your turn, pretty girl.” he said.

“I don’t do drugs, Bucky.” you hesitated, biting your lip.

Bucky pouted, “Baby, you’re disappointing me right now.” he said, taking your chin in between his index finger and thumb.

He tugged at your bottom lip, releasing it from your teeth before slamming his mouth on yours in a bruising kiss. A whine escaped your throat when he quickly pulled back. Bucky squinted as he looked at you, bringing his knuckles up to gently brush at your cheekbones.

“Thought you were a good girl? C’mon on now, do this for me. I promise it’ll make the fucking so much better.” he groaned.

Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to agree. You let out a shaky sigh and shrugged your shoulders.

“You do know that good girls go to heaven, right?” he asked again, tipping his head to catch your gaze.

You nodded.

“Yeah? How ‘bout you be my good girl and I’ll bring you there myself.”

-

If this was truly heaven, then your bible study friends were right about it. It was exhilarating, as if your senses were heightened, making you feel the most alive you’d ever been. You weren’t sure if it was the drug that made you feel that way or if it was how Bucky’s tongue and fingers were working their magic against your weeping cunt as you laid there on his couch, completely naked.

Maybe it was the combination of both.

Head thrown back against the armrest, you kept your eyes closed as you continued to moan out loud while Bucky flicked his tongue against your sensitive nub while his fingers expertly slipped in and out of your gushing pussy. He groaned against your folds, taking his fingers out to force them inside your parted mouth.

“Like your taste, yeah? So fuckin’ sweet and you smell so good.” he groaned and licked his way up to your ribs, nibbling at your skin before moving to take your pebbled nipple into his warm mouth.

Lost in the pleasure, you failed to notice that Bucky reached for the plastic again, dusting a messy line of powder on top of your tits. He snorted the powder and then bit your nipple, making you yelp out from the pain as you sat up straight.

“That hurt?” Bucky taunted before bending down to do it again, this time harder.

You grunted in response and as if on impulse, slapped Bucky on the cheek before gasping out loud. Bucky hissed as he tilted his head at you, eyes dark but not from anger. He opened his mouth as if to adjust his jaw, chuckling darkly before kissing you.

“You aren’t as innocent as I thought you were.” he said, gripping your neck and squeezing it a bit until your eyes fluttered. “I fucking like it.” he rasped out before letting go of your throat, only to slap your tits instead.

Bucky was fucking controlling. He liked having the upper hand in bed, whatever he says, goes. And you were not bothered by it, not even a little. You should be though; everything that you have been doing ever since Bucky stepped into your life was pure sin to the point that you, as a person, was already a sin in itself.

If Bucky was the devil, you were the ultimate sin.

His touches burned your skin, as if leaving a trail of fire as he licked his way back down to your aching cunt. Bucky demanded that you kept your eyes at him as he dusted off some more cocaine along your inner thigh, close to your bikini line. Your eyes were lidded, your sight a bit hazy but the view of Bucky in between your legs with his pupils dilating as he bent down to snort more cocaine easily burned into your brain.

“Got me so fucking addicted to you.” Bucky murmured against your skin, his nose reaching your mound when he finished snorting his coke.

And then his mouth latched back onto your sensitive clit, his tongue’s assault on your pussy even rougher and harder now as he continued eating you out.

Bucky did take you to heaven, but he also took you in more ways than one— on your hands and knees on the ground, on your back against the counter and now, on your front pressed against the glass wall of his shower.

However, not once did he allow you to reach your climax and the throb to experience your sweet release was borderline painful that you were beginning to fight for dominance.

Hands pressed flat against the glass wall, you started pushing back against Bucky as he thrusted into you, meeting his hips in an attempt to get yourself off. Bucky stopped, noticing what you were doing and landed a hard spank on your already red ass cheeks, a clear print of his hand beginning to take form on your skin.

“Someone’s so fucking desperate to cum.” Bucky darkly chuckled, reaching around to squeeze your breast before slapping it hard, making you whimper.

“Please…” you whispered, resting your forehead against the glass as you felt your entire body shiver from its desperate need for pleasure.

You had never felt this needy before, as if you were going to combust but the fucking was so good, as Bucky promised. Being high on drugs was something you never saw yourself getting into, but having it run through your veins made every drag of Bucky’s cock against your walls made it ten times better. You could feel every ridge, every pulse and every hit against your cervix to the point of pain.

The good kind of pain though. One that you’d feel for days, weeks and maybe months to come.

Bucky’s rough palms left your waist for a brief moment before you heard the faucet squeaking. The lukewarm water that was cascading down your back slowly increased in temperature until smoke and fog enveloped you both in the shower.

“What does my pretty girl want?” Bucky asked, his palms caressing your ass, spreading your cheeks open as he observed your pulsating cunt.

“Want to cum, Bucky…” you mumbled, pressing your cheek against your arm as you kept your palms flat against the glass.

Bucky chuckled, landing another spank on your ass. “Can’t fuckin’ hear you.” he mocked.

“Cum, I want to cum.” you said, louder but not still not enough for Bucky to continue fucking you.

Bucky ran his fingers through his hair, sweeping them back before slowly pulling his cock out from your pussy until only the tip was in, grunting when he felt your walls clench him.

“Look, if you want me to continue fucking you, you gotta fuckin’ earn it. Don’t want me to forget about you again now, do we?” he asked in a patronizing tone that struck a nerve.

Sure, you might not be like the other women he might have fucked. You were plain and simple, wore long dresses instead of mini skirts and opted for flats over heels. You didn’t wear a ton of make-up, didn’t wear push-up bras that would make it look like your tits were spilling out from your dress, you weren’t them.

But you were you and you were going to prove to Bucky that it would be a mistake for him to forget about you. Again.

So you gave him what he wanted.

You begged like a sinner pleading for mercy during a confession.

“Please fuck me, need your cock to split me open. Want you to use me, want all your cum inside of me. Bucky, please. Need you, need to feel you so bad. I want it, I want to be yours and yours alone.”

Filth and profane words flew right out of a good girl’s mouth. It could be the drug, could be the utter desperation to make you say those words. But you also realized that this wasn’t who you have become, this was who you truly are and that maybe, you were never a good girl in the first place.

Bucky just made it easier for you to discover the sinner hiding beneath your purity.

As soon as you were done begging, you felt the way Bucky’s cock engorge within your cunt. Without a word, Bucky continued to fuck you hard and fast. The water temperature kept rising, not too hot to scorch your skin but hot enough to make you dizzy. You could literally feel your eyes crossing from the way Bucky was barely pulling out as he fucked you relentlessly.

His hands were gripping your hips tightly, pulling you against him whenever he thrusted into you. Bucky’s grunts and growls grew louder and louder, turning you on even more.

“You fuckin’ belong to me now, you hear me?” he hissed, placing a thumb against your puckered hole making you shiver.

You nodded, pushing your ass back to meet Bucky’s thrusts and this time, he let you and even praised you for being his obedient little pet.

“Yours, Bucky. Yours!” you squealed when you felt Bucky slip his thumb into your asshole, pumping it in and out at the same speed his cock was fucking your pussy.

The heat, combined with the sounds Bucky was making and the pleasure from both your holes being penetrated elevated your pleasure to a whole ‘nother level. The coil in your abdomen snapped and you violently came, your wetness gushing around Bucky’s cock.

Your orgasm came with no warning and it almost felt like your soul left your body. You could feel the pleasure spread from your fingertips to all the different parts of your body, making you spasm from the aftershocks.

“Fuck, shit! Fucking hell!” Bucky growled, wrapping an arm around your waist when he felt his balls tighten.

A couple more quick thrusts was all it took for Bucky to finally cum, spilling his seed inside of you. He breathlessly laughed as he pulled his cock out, watching his cum drip out of your swollen pussy down to your thighs. Your skin was red from the hot water, your ass imprinted with Bucky’s palm and your face, god...Bucky thought you looked divine like that.

Ruined as fuck.

“You make a good pet, pretty girl.”

It was the last thing you heard before you slipped into unconsciousness.

-

Your entire body was aching when you stirred awake. It took you a few minutes to fully comprehend what was going on. You were inside Bucky’s room in his trailer, fully naked beneath the grey duvet of his bed.

Judging by the sound of the shower in the bathroom and your damp hair, you weren’t out that long. Sitting up and pulling the cover up to your chest, you winced at the pain in between your legs. You moved a bit and whimpered when you felt a sting on both your ass cheeks. Turning to your side, you looked back and noticed how red your skin was.

The sound of the shower stopped and soon enough, Bucky stepped out with a white towel wrapped around his waist. He was drying his hair with another towel and it was almost surreal to see him do something so mundane. Droplets of water cascaded down from his neck down to his tattooed abdomen, putting you into a daze.

Bucky’s freshly-showered scent enveloped your senses, bringing you back to reality. He stood at the foot of the bed, eyes never leaving yours as he moved. He glanced at you with a grin before picking up his worn pants on the floor, unsnapping the silver chain hanging from its belt hoops.

He then walked towards one of his drawers, taking out what seemed to be a thick leather collar.

“You know, I sorta regret that I forgot about you after fucking you for the first time.” Bucky admitted.

“But hearing you beg for me to make you my cumdump? Seeing you turn into a fuckin’ whore for me? I fuckin’ love that. Nobody ever looks at me the way you do, pretty girl. You look at me like I’m a fuckin’ god.” he chuckled, hooking one end of his chain onto the collar like a leash.

Lifting it up to your face, he smirked.

“So I’d like to keep you. What do you say about becoming my good little pet, munchkin?”