#let's see if i can be consistent with these

[kihyunsflavor]

Cold shoulder

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x f!reader

Summary: You are married to Feyd-Rautha, but on his birthday Margot Fenring follows him in the hallways to lure him into her chambers.

Warnings: smut, heartbreak, angst, pet names, breeding kink, manipulation (not reader)

word count: 4.6k

Author's note: English is not my first language. Feedback is very much appreciated <3

A cold breeze grazes your skin as the door to your shared chambers opens, sending a shiver down your spine. He enters with heavy steps and your breath stops for a moment when you catch a foreign feminine scent in the air. You immediately know.

"I'm back, wife," Feyd Rautha says, slowly approaching where you stand. You don't respond. A painful lump forms in your throat as your emotions are all over the place. Big hands gently grab your waist from behind. The scent of the woman still lingers on his skin. It tightens your chest and turns your stomach. You have never felt so sick before. She had her hands on him and he allowed it.

You don't want to believe your own thoughts, wishing this reality wasn't true. She had taken him from you. Your beloved husband, the person you love more than anyone else, with whom you share everything. He is the center of your world.

You turn to face him. "You're back late..." you say, your voice steady but your lower lip quivering.

For a split second, his expression wavers, confirming your suspicions. Feyd starts to speak, but you cut him off. "Don't bother lying. I can smell her on you."

His eyes widen, a hint of guilt flickering across his face, an emotion you've never seen from him before.

"I didn't want to. The witch invaded my mind," he attempts to explain. But you can't believe him. Not after this. He humiliated you, made you feel worthless.

His hand reaches for your cheek but you push it way. „Don‘t touch me.“

Oh how could he betray you like this? How could he share such an intimate moment with another woman?

„I can't believe you did this," you sway, your voice trembling with dissapointment. Tears well up in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. He's not worth your tears. Not a single one.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. His words pierce your heart, shattering it into pieces.

It kills you.

The room falls into a heavy silence. His eyes plead with you, his hands twitching as if wanting to pull you close. The very thought makes you cringe.

"I never want to see you again," you say as you move past him. He reaches out for you, but you're too quick. Just before disappearing into the dark corridor, you look back at him. "It hurts - so much."

With that, you're gone.

Feyd doesn't follow. He knows he destroyed everything.

You move into a new section of the Harkonnen residence, consisting of a bedroom and a study, far away from your husband. All your belongings and clothes are brought in by your servants to help you settle into your new quarters. You hear whispers among the servants about Feyd's initial anger, refusing to let them move your belongings. Eventually, he seemed to give in and just let them continue, which was unusual for someone like him who rarely yielded so easily. But you pay it no mind, trying to forget about him. He did this to himself.

The first few nights are horrible. You struggle to sleep, feeling alone and haunted by nightmares of him. Each time you see a black veiled woman, luring him into her chambers. When you wake up, your clothes cling to your sweaty skin. You brush your hair back from your face and scan the dimly lit room. It is pretty similar to your old chambers but you've tried to make it feel different with some interior changes.

You hadn't yet discovered who the Bene Gesserit was that had been with your husband, but you were determined to find out.

With your family's influential name, you planned to write to your sister, hoping she could uncover the truth for you.

The days go by slowly, and to your relief you don't see Feyd at all. The pain of looking into his eyes would be too much to bear. Your heart was broken and would take a long time to heal.

You'd never known love before, never had any real crushes growing up. But then, you were sent to marry the na-Baron of Giedi Prime. You hadn't objected, obediently following your father's wishes. Meeting Feyd changed everything. He ignited a passion within you, made you feel enchanted and yearning for him.

Even if he was cold at first, Feyd proved to be a devoted husband. Drawn to your beautiful appearance and your kind but brave soul, it didn't take him long to warm up to you. You could tell he had fallen for you too.

The wedding night marked the peak of your feelings for him, deepening your love. You were nervous he might handle you roughly, especially since it was your first time, so you had asked him not to hurt you. „That‘s what concubines are for. I'd never hurt my wife,“ Feyd had assured you then, having already dismissed his concubines prior to the wedding.

But in the end, his words proved to be a lie. He had kept his promise until now, when he let the Bene Gesserit woman touch him.

It was hard to believe Feyd had done something like this. Loyalty and trust were values he held in high regard. He always looked down on those who lacked loyalty; it was a matter of honor to him.

And now here you are, sitting alone at the table to eat your dinner. You had instructed your servants to bring your meals to your chambers from now on, because there was no chance you'd dine with your husband. Even if he came to fetch you himself, you wouldn't budge an inch. But Feyd hasn't come. Days have passed since you left him, and he still hasn't shown his face, which you're really relieved about.

He knew you well, knew that you needed space, but this time it was different. He couldn't just apologize and gift you something to make amends. This time, there was nothing for you to forgive him for. And if the Bene Gesserit were to get pregnant before you, his actual wife, it would be unbearable.

The thought fills you with anger and jealousy. You wouldn't allow this to happen. You should be the only one to give him an heir.

As you return to your room after a brief stroll through your section, you're surprised to find several packages awaiting you. Despite your reservations, Feyd has still chosen to send gifts. Walking over to inspect them, a servant appears at your side, bowing slightly.

"Na-Baroness, the na-Baron has sent some gifts for you. He hopes you will accept them," the servant explains. Your gaze drifts over the variously sized boxes, and a sigh escapes your lips. "We will send them back. All of them," you declare after a moment. "But let me have a look first." Kneeling down, you carefully open each package, mindful not to damage anything.

Among them are dresses, exquisitely crafted and likely from your home planet. Another holds a perfume you adore, also from your planet. Then there are the traditional Harkonnen jewelry, reserved only for the Baron and his family. You can't help but chuckle at Feyd's selection.

Once you've examined everything, the servants gather the gifts along with your message: Don't ever insult me like this again

Even if this was just the beginning of his attempts to seek forgiveness, Feyd's gesture of sending mere gifts felt somewhat childish.

Days later, you decide to attend the fight held in the Harkonnen arena, knowing full well that Feyd would be present. However, you choose to sit in a secluded area, far removed from his presence.

Your attire consists of a dark red silk dress, a change from your usual colors as the na-Baroness, which typically align with the Harkonnen house's black with silver or red accents. Your jewelry, crafted from rare opal from your home planet, catches the light, accentuating your eyes and lending a radiant glow to your appearance.

Accompanied by two of your favorite servants, you make your way to a seating area. As you settle in, a pair of glasses are provided, allowing you a clearer view of the participants in the fighting circle below.

Slowly, you navigate through the crowd, observing the excitement of the people of Giedi Prime for the fight. Your gaze shifts upward, focusing on the Baron seated high above the arena, his imposing presence making you feel unease. He emanates a terrifying and volatile energy that unsettles you every time.

Continuing on, you reach the spot where the na-Baron and you usually sit. Feyd stands alone in his black suit, his gaze fixed on you. He had waited until you noticed him.

Feeling a twinge in your stomach, you deliberately drop your glasses with controlled movements, concealing the effect his presence has on you. Redirecting your attention to the fighters entering the arena, you're grateful for something to distract you.

Yet, his image replays in your mind. His eyes betray a hint of sadness, dark circles evident beneath his pale complexion. But he had brought this upon himself.

If he hadn't allowed the Bene Gesserit to touch him, you would have been there beside him as always, watching the fight unfold, with his hand possessively resting on your thigh.

Even after a week apart, the pain remains just the same.

The fight was not big spectacle, but it was enough for the crowd. You swiftly retreat to your chambers, after receiving the sign from a servant that the Baron had left. Casting one last glance at Feyd's area, you see his back turned to you. He's likely leaving as well, and you really have no desire to encounter him in the hallways

When you wake up two days later, you notice a basket of fresh fruits sitting on your table. Approaching the gift, you find a small card attached to the handle. Opening it slowly, you read Feyd's handwriting: Please accept these valuable fruits. Feyd.

You stare at the words for a moment, then shift your gaze to the basket. Inside, you see a variety of fruits, many of which are from your own planet and are your favorites —a fact Feyd surely knew. Yet, despite the apparent gesture, you still feel slighted by the simplicity of the gift.

With a dismissive gesture, you instruct the servants to take the basket away. "Share it among the others and send the same message to the na-Baron as before," you command, retreating to your bedroom.

An upcoming event required your presence as husband and wife, na-Baron and na-Baroness. Three days beforehand, you already felt nauseous and contemplated skipping it altogether. However, the Baron's potential anger left you with no choice but to attend.

As the special day approaches, you pace nervously around the room. The prospect of having to play the role of Feyd's wife again fills you with dread. Despite the difficulty, you resign yourself to the task, knowing you must suppress your true emotions and maintain a facade of affection, hiding behind a gentle smile.

In the morning, you receive a package from Feyd, containing a dress intended for the upcoming gathering. The garment, adorned in Harkonnen colors, is tailored to complement his own attire, ensuring a flawless appearance as a couple.

As the servants begin to prepare you for the event, they dress you, adorn you with jewelry, and style your hair elegantly. Avoiding the mirror as much as possible, you can't help but feel a bit of discomfort at the sight of the dress, which reminds you too much of him. The idea that it signifies your connection to him is unsettling, especially since his betrayal with another woman. Prior to that, you had cherished moments when he selected dresses for you or had jewelry crafted from your birthstone.

Once you're ready, you steal a quick glance at your reflection, observing how the dress accentuates your figure. Despite looking beautiful, the nausea persists. You so badly wish to just remain secluded in your chambers, away from him.

Two servants accompany you as you make your way to the grand halls where your husband awaits in front of the towering doors. You catch a glimpse of him, dressed in all black and feel the familiar pain in your chest. It's as if your lungs are pulling themselves together, stealing the air from you.

His gaze is sweeping over you and a faint grin tugs at his lips, but he stops himself quickly. "Good morning, wife," Feyd says, with his deep raspy voice and offers his arm to you. He seems content to see your face up close after two weeks. You halt before him, meeting his towering figure with a glare that could pierce steel. He recognizes the expression, but doesn't show any reaction. You hook your arm into his, taking a deep breath before walking into the grand hall together.

As the event unfolds, nobels from across the galaxy mingle, their voices a symphony of polite conversation. Among them stands the imposing figure of the Baron, his presence commanding attention.

You stand next to Feyd, occasionally engaging in some small talk with others. Despite the pain and betrayal that lingers in between you, you play the roles with practiced ease, upholding the appearance of a happy couple. Yet inside, you feel dull.

In a moment alone, Feyd wraps his arm around your waist. "Let's talk later, wife." He says and gazes into your eyes. You lower your head, staring at his chest and offering no response until he pulls you closer to his body. Slowly, you raise your head and to meet his gaze.

"No, I don't think so," You reply, placing a hand on his chest in an attempt to push him away. But he holds firm, studying your eyes in an attempt to understand your emotions.

"There's nothing to explain, na-Baron," you hiss, putting some distance between the two of you. "I don't want to hear anything. And stop sending me gifts!"

Feyd blinks at your response and takes a step forward. "Just let me finish my sentence. Things have happened that I regret deeply, but I need you to understand why," he begins to explain, but you shake your head. Tears well up in your eyes, and you bite the inside of your cheek to suppress a whimper. "No, no…" Your lips quiver as you respond with a weak voice. "Even just thinking about it hurts me too much." With those final words, you turn on your heel and walk away. Glancing briefly at the Baron to ensure he's occupied, you slip out of the grand hall and return to your chambers.

Your heart races, nearly pounding out of your chest. Feyd's scent made you dizzy, made you longing for him, but you refuse to succumb. You were not one to give in quickly, not even to his beautiful blue eyes. His lips had twitched, after you had raised your head to look at him - his love always displayed so openly for you, unlike his usual expressionless demeanor. And despite everything, you still love him too, but the thought of going back to him, fills you with disgust and pain. He's the one who made you feel this way.

It was not a good night, and the days that followed were just as bleak. The dull ache persisted, and you drift through each day like a ghost. Emptiness pervades every moment, blurring the world around you into a haze. And despite showing not a single emotion to the world, you feel the pain, longing for the warmth of connection that is lost.

After a week had passed since the event, the reply from your older sister finally arrived. You hastily open it, eager to learn whether the Bene Gesserit woman was pregnant. You understood the ways of the Bene Gesserit and didn't object to them, except in this case, where one woman dared to interfere in your marriage. It was all about control.

Since you weren't part of the sisterhood, they needed to ensure a child was born from Feyd that they could raise according to their teachings. However, if they had approached you with a deal for your own child to become a Bene Gesserit, you might not have disagreed.

But this time, you were determined to stand in their way. She wasn't worthy enough to bear your husband's child, especially considering you weren't even pregnant yourself yet.

With trembling hands, you open the scroll and begin to read the message.

Dear sister,

I am deeply troubled by the news you've shared with me. I did not expect this from the na-Baron. But don't worry too much, as I have located the Bene Gesserit. Her name is Margot Fenring, the wife of Count Fenring, the Emperor's advisor. Unfortunately, I couldn't find out why the sisterhood chose her, and I haven't received any updates on a possible pregnancy. Rest assured, I will inform you immediately once I learn more.

With all my love,

Your sister

You stare at the message, sighing heavily. Margot Fenring was a well-known figure in the galaxy, particularly admired for her beauty. Her hair was of a golden blonde with grey-green eyes and attractive figure. However, you weren't concerned about feeling inferior to her; you knew your own beauty had captivated Feyd from the moment he had laid his eyes on you.

The burning question on your mind wasn't why the revered mother had chosen her to seduce Feyd, but rather why she had to intervene at all, and whether she was now carrying his child.

The waiting was unbearable in a situation like this.

A knock sounds on your door, as you put the roll in the drawer of your desk. Curious, you turn around, wondering who could be seeking your attention. Apart from your husband and his two family members, you didn't know anyone else.

With caution, you open the door, only to be met with the sight of Feyd-Rautha. Disappointment flashes across your face, and you sigh, almost closing the door on him again. But Feyd has other plans, his hand holding the door open and making his way into your chambers. Surprised, you walk back a few steps and stare at him. "What are you doing?" you ask, confusion evident in your tone. He doesn't respond, maintaining a cold stare that sends a shiver down your spine. He appears angry or, at the very least, annoyed by your behavior.

As the back of your knees touch your bed, he stops in front of you. "This time, you will listen, wife, or I will tie you to the bed. You can't run away from me every time," Feyd says with a deep, raspy voice. You blink up at him, uncertain of what to do. Part of you wants to escape the uncomfortable situation and to avoid listening to him. But in this moment, he holds full control over you.

A cold finger grazes your jawline softly, lifting your head up. He comes closer, his breath tingling on your skin. "You better listen carefully now. I will explain everything that has happened. Alright?" he tells you, and all you can do is nod your head obediently.

"On this day while I was on my way back to you, I noticed a woman following me. I questioned her about her presence in the area, and she began to manipulate my mind. With a mere blink, I found myself in her guest room, unable to recall anything except for her whispers in my head," Feyd explains seriously, maintaining eye contact with you.

"She then used the voice on me and forced me to place my hand in a box while holding a sharp object coated with poison to my neck. After passing her test, she continued to use the voice on me throughout the whole time. I couldn't do anything else than listen to her. I tried to break free many times and every time a picture of you flashed in my mind, she redirected my attention back to her," he continues, his eyes darkening as he recounts the experience. You can see the distress he's in as he speaks.

Slowly, your hand raises to cup his cheek, offering comfort. He leans into your touch, visibly relaxing. "Do you know why she came to you?" you inquire, once his nerves are calmed. He nods vaguely. "I am the one who will inherit the title as Baron next, and since you are not a Bene Gesserit, they sent one of them to find out my weakness."

His answer sinks in, and you agree. "That's what I was thinking as well."

Feyd's hands gently cup your face as he leans closer. "I missed you so much, little mouse," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead. You close your eyes, relishing the sensation of his touch, which you've missed dearly.

"What if she is pregnant?" concern creeps into your voice. Feyd meets your gaze, his eyes filled with determination. "Don't worry, my dear. She won't live to give birth to it, if we receive word that she's carrying a baby," he assures you. "You are the only woman who will give me an heir," he adds with a smirk.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "I should have listened earlier. I just couldn't bear it. Nothing made sense anymore," you whisper, your lips brushing against his cheek. He hums in reply, pressing his lips to yours in a long-awaited kiss.

It turns into a heavy makeout session. With tender care, he guides you onto the bed, slowly undressing you as if savoring every moment of intimacy. As he moistens his fingers with his tongue and begins to pump them inside of you, a soft moan escapes your lips, reveling in the sensation of his touch.

Your body arches with pleasure as he prepares you for him, each movement sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you. "Feels so good," you murmur, lost in the sensation. Feyd's grin widens as he leans over you, his touch both tender and tantalizing.

When he decides you're ready, he withdraws his fingers, eliciting a soft whine of longing from you. "It's alright, my little mouse. I will give you what you want," he shushes. As he frees himself from his pants, your hand instinctively reaches for him, eager to feel his hardness in your grasp.

A low groan escapes him at your touch, but he gently removes your hand, his own need evident in his impatient tone. "Not now," He says, his voice thick with lust. "I can't wait any longer to be inside you." With a sense of urgency, he positions himself between your legs, ready to claim you completely.

He gazes down at you with love and care. "You won’t be able to walk tomorrow," he warns with a sly grin, teasing as he lets the tip of his arousal slide between your heated folds before thrusting inside you.

Once fully sheathed within your tight walls, he leans over you, his arms caging your head to support his weight. In this position, he is able to see your face much better. "I will make you forget everything that pained you these past weeks. You are mine," he growls possessively with his lips attached to the sensitive skin of your neck as his hips begin to move in a rhythmic thrust.

At first, his movements are slow and deliberate, punctuated by tender kisses, until you relax completely under his touch and he increases the pace. Your legs are lifted up over his shoulders, allowing him to penetrate even deeper, luring whimpers of pleasure from you as your nails dig into the porcelain skin of his back.

"So tight. Taking me so well, little mouse," he praises softly near your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Your walls contract around him, gripping him tighter, causing him to groan in pleasure. "Stop it, I'm not going to last if you keep tightening up like this," he warns you, his head falling back in pleasure.

But the sensation feels too good to stop, and you beg him to just come inside you with your voice hazy with desire. Feyd's eyes sparkle at your pleads. "Touch yourself," He orders, encouraging you.

It doens't take long for you to reach your climax, gripping his shoulders for support and screaming his name. He watches your face intently, praising you. "Yes that's it, good girl. Come on my cock."

Without letting you fully come down from your high, he starts to thrust deeper. “Going to fill you up now, you want that?” You whine at his words, nodding impatiently. “You'll look beautiful with my baby inside of you, all big and swollen.” His words drive you insane and with each thrust, he pushes you both closer.

With a final thrust, he releases himself inside you, bringing you to another climax as the room fills with both of your cries of pleasure.

"Afterwards, he takes good care of you, cleaning your sensitive skin with a wet cloth and ensuring you're comfortable in bed. His arms find their way around your body, pulling you closer.

"I haven't slept well since you left," he admits, nuzzling his face into your neck. You chuckle at the sensation because it tickles.

"I also slept horribly," you respond, your hand caressing the back of his neck. But tonight, you sleep better than you have in weeks, knowing your husband is right there beside you, and you never want to let go again.

Fortunately, it's only a week later when another message from your sister reaches you. As you read through it with full concentration, a lump forms in your throat due to the wave of emotions that washes over you.

"She's not pregnant," you inform Feyd, who stands before you. His eyes visibly brighten with relief and he moves closer to embrace you tightly. No words are needed, you can feel each other's emotions clearly.

"Don't worry, my dear. I'll deal with the punishment for the Bene Gesserit," Feyd assures you after a while of holding each other. His anger still simmers, just as intense as the night Margot Fenring used the voice on him. He won't let it slide easily.

You find comfort in knowing that Feyd will handle the situation, likely with the help of his uncle, the Baron. But for now, you push aside all thoughts of pain, focusing on the relief of the moment.

On the same day, after rearranging the last few items in your shared chamber, which you hastily moved back into, a gleaming blade catches your eye. Your husband possesses a collection of blades in various sizes and styles, but you recognize this one as his favorite - the one he always carries with him. You approach the desk and study the blade intently.

Suddenly, strong arms wrap around your body, and you gasp quietly in surprise. "This one is for you," Feyd whispers behind you. Your eyes remain fixed on the knife, his words sinking in.

This blade holds significant importance to him, having accompanied your husband since his childhood when he first learned to fight. It's a profound gesture of trust and affection that he would gift it to you now. Despite the Harkonnen's reputation for brutality and coldness, they occasionally reveal their emotions to those they love. This blade serves as a metaphor, symbolizing Feyd's gift of his heart to you forever.

#feyd rautha #feyd smut #dune part two #feyd x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #dune x reader #dune imagine #feyd rautha imagine #feyd rautha fic #austin butler x reader #dune fanfic #feyd x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen imagine #feyd rautha smut #feyd-rautha x reader #kihyunsflavor

[orangekittyenergy]

On Tails and Horns

NSFW Rolan Fic

Tags: NSFW, 18+ only, tail touching, horn stroking, dry humping, first kiss, touch starved Rolan, she/her Female Tav, mostly sexy flirting but with smut at the end, basically all angst and anticipation really, I guess subRolan

Words: 6000 (once again this got completely out of hand)

Summary: Tav finally goes to visit Rolan in his new tower after a hard couple weeks of cleanup. Rolan is so delighted to see her and pent up with frustration and feelings that the lightest of touches is enough to make him lose all sense of himself.

Read below or direct on AO3

-

Tav and Rolan sat in his sitting room for tea, perched together, far closer than Rolan had intended, on the plush couch. The velvet couch was one of the many opulent vestiges from the previous owner. Books and scrolls aside, it certainly didn’t hurt to now occupy a fully furnished tower. The large vaulted windows were flung open wide, letting in a soft breeze and low hum from the movements of the city far below.

Rolan had been delighted when she came to visit. Tav had been so busy with helping the issues in the damaged city he hadn’t been quite sure when he would see her again. But he couldn’t deny the way his heart sang when she strolled through the doors over an hour ago, hoping to catch up with him now that she had a moment to breathe. Him, of all people.

But now here they sat; having discussed the details of both of their new lives, how life in the tower and store were going, the efforts to clean up the city, and the question of what lay next seemed to hover in the air.

Tav set her cup down on the side table and gave him a soft look.

“Thank you for taking time for me. I know you’ve been busy. But I really needed this.” She said and shot him what looked like an almost shy smile. Rolan blinked hard at her, surprised at her words as much as the look on her face.

“Thank...hah! I should be thanking you. Consistently and forever.” He set his own empty cup down as well. “I would have nothing were it not for you.”

“Oh, don’t pretend to be modest. You know you were amazing in the courtyard at that battle; I don’t know if we could’ve made it through without your help.” Tav reminded him.

Rolan cocked his head, looking away a moment in thought.

“Yes, I suppose I was rather amazing. I guess Cal and Lia helped some but my spells really sealed the fate of those wretched mind-flayers.” He mused with a slight smile. Tav always knew how to stroke his ego.

“But...really...thank you, Rolan. I’ve been meaning to visit sooner. I’m still staying at the Elfsong. Maybe we can do this again? Maybe dinner perhaps?” She said, almost casually. Just tossing asking him to dinner out there as if it was nothing. 

His breath caught in his throat. Dinner. His mind rang with the word as it seeped into every corner of his brain; trying to wrap his head around what that could possibly mean. Was she asking him out? That couldn’t be so. It was casual. Two friends catching up. But still, his mind immediately pictured the scene; dinner and wine at the Elfsong. He’d love to see her in something more dressy. No, that was ridiculous. She must have dozens of suitors.

"Ahem...dinner, yes. That... would be a fine idea..” He spoke haltingly, trying to fill the silence with words, any words, while he was still trying to work through the idea in his head, a thousand different scenarios crashing together at once.

As he struggled with this concept; it seemed the deepest part of his desires to be close to her, to get to know her in possibly more than a friendly setting, that he has previously pushed away, had bubbled up again and his body decided to act for him.

Tav felt a movement on her leg and shivered.

She looked down to see Rolan’s tail curled gently but insistently around her leg just above her knee, the tip trailing down to rest on her calf. He followed her gaze and his eyes widened with shock at the impudence and betrayal of his own tail. Before he could utter out the immediate string of curses and apologies that flew into his head, in that split second of fear that gripped him, Tav moved quicker and he froze.

She raised her hand from her thigh and gently placed it on the exposed section of tail atop her leg. All thoughts fled from Rolan’s head as a hiss and a full body shudder rolled through him at her whisper light touch.

The shiver extended all the way through his tail and Tav immediately raised her hand off it as if she had been shocked, looking up to meet his eyes.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I should've asked first-"

She started as he spoke at the same time.

"I am very sorry about that damn tail, I -" he paused, her words finally reaching his muddled brain. "Ask?" The word almost caught in his throat as he choked it out, incredulous. He caught her eyes flutter down to the offending tail, still around her leg, then back up to his meet his eyes with a blush. A blush? What did she have to blush about? It was his tail that got him into this predicament.

"Yes, sorry. I'm so sorry Rolan, I've heard tails can be sensitive...I should've asked first...it was just...it was right there." She gave a nervous chuckle and glanced away.

Wonderful, now I've done and mucked everything up, Rolan thought. The mere mention of dinner from her lips had left him already in shambles, unable to even control his own cursed tail. He frowned and cleared his throat, trying to still the building throbbing in his chest and regain his usual demeanor.

"No. I mean, yes, you should have." He said brusquely at first. Her eyes flickered away again and he quickly added. "They...uh...can be sensitive in some areas, yes." He swallowed thickly suddenly quite unsure of what to say. Tav met his eyes for a brief moment then looked back down. Rolan followed her gaze, already knowing full well what he would find and saw his damned tail, somehow wrapped, so it seemed, even tighter around her leg. He cleared his throat again but made no attempt to move it despite his nerves screaming at him.

"So, can I?" Tav spoke, pulling his attention back to her face. It was tilted down but her eyes peered up at him in what seemed to be a deliberately maddening pose.

"Can you....?" He hesitated, he was sure she couldn't be asking what he thought she was asking.

"Can I touch your tail?" She finished boldly. Rolan eyed her a moment, and swallowed thickly, his brain swirling with a million thoughts and his hands starting to tremble. He crossed his arms and tried to seem nonchalant about the entire situation and realized he was failing miserably.

"Sure. Yes. You may." He uttered, hoping his voice didn't waver.

Tav reached back out, hand tentative but confident and placed her palm again on the flesh of his tail where it rested on her leg.

The sensation was like a blaze of fire through his already burning hot veins. He bit down on his tongue, hard, to avoid another offending shiver and felt his eyelids flutter, betrayal of his own self control.

Thankfully, Tav’s eyes remained fixed on his tail, not noticing the immediate and dramatic way it affected him. Or, he realized, she might be tactful enough to be avoiding his face. Her touch became more firm as she well and truly let the full weight of her hand fall on it.

A sharp hiss of air escaped his clenched teeth as her hand moved slightly and her eyes finally returned to his.

"Is this okay?" She asked. Her voice was hushed, almost...he struggled to place her tone...reverent?

"Yes, yes it's fine." He breathed out, forcing himself to let the tension in his jaw relax. She began to ease her hand up slightly, tracing the bumps and ridges with her fingertips, digits gently paving the path for her palm to follow.

Rolan felt himself flush and wondered if Tav could tell the difference between his usual ruddy hue and the deeper scarlet of his blushes.

"Does it feel....good?"

His eyes had purposefully wandered but now snapped back to hers and narrowed slightly. Her expression was unreadable and even as her haunting words echoed in his ears he, again, couldn't sense the meaning behind her tone. Did she want it to feel good? Or was it pure curiosity that caused her to ask such a charged question?

And what’s more; how should he answer?

"It...does. The tail...my tail...seems to get more sensitive the higher up it goes." He tried to answer factually, logically even. It was true after all, but as quickly as the words left his mouth he realized the possible connotation of them. An invitation even. The corners of Tav’s lips flickered with a smile and her brow raised almost imperceptibly.

"Hmmm." Was the only response she gave. But her hand continued it's ascending exploration of his tail. It was now beyond the section just on her leg and was continuing on to where it dipped down a touch by his own legs.

Leaning forward slightly to extend her reach, she continued her careful mapping of the ridges, which were getting more and more pronounced as his tail progressed. She touched him as if she wished to memorize every single bump and pore; with a tenderness he couldn’t recall ever feeling before. The feeling was indescribable, but undeniably sensual. 

Rolan felt another shudder roll through him and couldn't contain this one. He felt it vibrate through his whole body all the way through and to the very tip of his tail and it gave a little flicker of movement against her calf. He couldn't tell if he was thankful or not that this one, as it trembled it's way down through his tail, didn't scare her hand away.

He stared at her hard, suddenly frustrated at her tender movements. Did she know how good it felt? Was she teasing him on purpose? To what bloody end? It was one thing to be touched so tenderly after so long, it was quite another to have his once detested bumps and ridges being the subject of such adoration. It was altogether brutal to have it be by someone that he wasn't even sure had further intentions with him. Other than being some...strange creature to fascinate over.

He squeezed his eyes shut. No matter how good it felt, how long he had wanted this, how soft her touch was, he had to stop this.

"I think-" he popped open his eyes intending on telling her to cease her activity but found that she had shifted while he battled internally and was now right beside him, her hips almost brushing against his own, her eyes firmly locked on his, watching his reactions carefully.

He wasn't just a subject of curiosity for her. He didn't know what she thought or what the intent was, but the burning in her eyes told him that it was far more than pure detached curiosity. He swallowed away his angry words, the frustration leaving him immediately, burned away by the heat of her gaze.

Her arm was now stretched out as far as it could go, ending just where his tail dipped down beside his thigh, before it would continue back up in a curve to reach the base. Incidentally, she had reached the point right where it started to become truly sensitive. It would've been positively indecent to let her continue.

His heart drummed hard in his chest, so loud he was certain she could hear it. He should end this, for decency’s sake alone. But couldn’t bring himself to conjure the words. A larger part of him was also so very desperate for her to continue; to see how far her boldness would take her. Take them. The two battling halves of his mind fought internally against each other. His mind fractured behind too many carefully crafted layers of strict composure.

He didn't have to struggle long. With a scoot of her hips again, her thighs well and truly pressed against his now, her arm bent at the elbow, giving her room to continue should she wish.

Rolan sucked in a sharp hiss of air at this development and stared at her carefully. Her eyes never left his. Her hand still firmly in place. The very air between them felt electric as if there was some magic from an unspoken spell being cast.

"Can I keep going?" She asked with a breath. His chest ached and again it took him a moment to register something. His need and eagerness for her touch along with his conflicting thoughts at the budding situation had made his senses dull. But as her words rang in his ears he heard something unmistakable. A nervous waver. In her voice. The slightest quiver. Of excitement or nerves; it could be either but he would take it. She was usually so, confident. Commanding even. To hear even a hint of a nerve in her voice at this situation stirred his insides and dispelled his doubts.

"Yes." He answered simply before he could stop himself with too much thinking. His chest hitched as her arm extended, stroking up his tail further, still using careful attention to the now more prominent peaks of cartilage. His jaw fell open slightly. The sensation of her hand almost too much to bear as another large shudder, stemming from her hand this time and rolling up his spine all the way to his scalp took him over.

She leaned forward further, her chest now dangerously close to touching his own. As her fingertips edged ever closer to the base of his tail he felt an unmistakable groan escape his lips. Her hand froze and he clamped his mouth shut with a snap both in the same moment.

His eyes darted away from hers, embarrassment welling up inside of him.

After an aching pause, his eyes still diverted, he felt Tav remove her hand and lean back away slightly. If the touch of her skin had lit a pleasant warm fire until under his skin, the sudden absence of it was a sharp painful sting of ice. Leaving him with a longing for contact that felt worse than if she hadn't touched him at all.

He finally pulled himself back to face her and was surprised to see her looking rather abashed. Her hands were sat back firmly on her thighs, gripping the fabric, a slight blush on her face, but... he could swear…was there a hint of a smile on her pink lips? Her confounding beautiful lips. 

Rolan opened his mouth to speak but once again words failed him. What could he say that wouldn't sound needy and desperate? How could he begin to ask her to continue to touch him without begging?

"Your tail felt very nice. Very soft. Sorry if I...went too far." Tav once again came to his rescue. This time rescuing him from the aching void of silence between them. Rolan blinked hard at her words. No one ever in the history of his knowledge had call his or anyone else’s tail nice or soft. As he absorbed her judgement of his tail, he realized she was staring at him expectantly.

"No, it was fine. It felt... good." A sudden surge of his own boldness possessed him, born of the sheer desire at having her hands on him again. To feel her touch him; somewhere. Anywhere. He started speaking before he knew what he was saying. "The...horns, if you were curious about them as well, also have a certain level of sensitivity... Not necessarily at the tips, but the base..." He couldn't even believe the words coming out of his own mouth. Desire had driven him absolutely mad.

Before he could begin to second guess himself he saw that the spark that flared up in her eyes was immediate. Her hint of a smile grew into a full fledged one.

Tav leaned forward slightly again and her eyes darted up to his horns.

"May I?" She asked, raising her hands up from her thighs until they hovered just over his own. He gave a gentle nod, not trusting his own voice at the prospect of being touched again.

Without hesitation now her hands raised to each place her fingertips at the point of each horn. Rolan dipped his head forward slightly to give her better access, practically bowing towards her. His own reverence at her caring touches.

She placed her fingers gently on the tips of his horns, again tracing across the thicker bumps and ridges, feeling her way around every groove as she explored. After just a moment there, she gently slid further down from the tips, lower and lower until they were thick enough to wrap a hand around. As she did so Rolan sucked a sharp gasp of air in through taut lips. Not so much at the sensation; it was altogether different than the soft flesh of his tail, but at her willingness to touch him again.

The feeling of hands on his horns was more akin to someone brushing his hair, not that he would know what that felt like; but it was more about the way it trickled down to his actual flesh that gave him shivers. But the feeling of her so close to him again, her desire to touch him again, her tender soft hands on the harshest parts of him; that was what truly drove his senses wild and made his insides coil with hunger. The feeling of her hands gently caressing his horns sent shooting sparks of sweet sensation across his scalp and he found himself clamping his mouth shut hard again to avoid making another wanton noise.

Heeding his words she seemed to move quicker down than with his tail, but as she reached the midpoint of his horns she slowed, her grip growing more delicate and exploratory again. As her hands slid across the grooves with care the sensation, the pulsing in his skin, grew stronger and stronger until his breath hitched and his breathing grew heavy once more. He stared down at her lap, trying in vain not to look directly at her chest.

His own hands, which had been absurdly useless thus far, clutched hard against the fabric of his robe at his thighs, as another shiver rolled down his spine. He felt it flow all the way down through his tail again. His eyes shot down at it. His tail. His damned tail that started this whole thing, still carefully curled around her leg, seemed to tighten involuntarily at the shudder. He wasn’t sure if he should be blessing or cursing that it seemed to have a mind of its own; operating purely on base instinct betraying his deepest thoughts and desires.

Her hands finally reached the base of his horns and tenderly traced the bumps from where they erupted from his skin, bringing forth another unintended deep groan of pleasure from the depths of his chest. At the noise his eyes darted back up to meet hers and he found her watching him intently, her lips parted slightly.

Thankfully, her hands didn't stray, undisturbed by his obvious, even lewd enjoyment of this. They stayed; soft, tender, and so caring on his flushed burning skin.

As her hands seemed to finish their careful explorations of the flesh at the base of his horns, he still had almost half-expected her to pull away. The game complete. The research done. A dark thought rolled through him before he could stop it that this was just a bit of fun for her. Teasing him like this.

But her hands lingered. He once again found her eyes, meeting them with a deep gaze as she slid her hands down, away from his horns until she was gently cupping his cheeks. Sparks shot through his entire body and his chest heaved, almost painfully so. The moment lingered, his fear and doubt still too deeply etched into his own skin in invisible scars to make a move first. A few weeks of comfort and a few moments of tender touching couldn’t erase a lifetime of hardships and disappointments.

Thankfully, Tav, was still the more bold of the two of them. Her eyes darted obviously down to his slightly parted lips then back up to meet his as she licked her lips.

“Rolan?” She breathed out softly.

He couldn’t trust that his voice wouldn’t shake. Couldn’t trust that any possible utterance of words would snap this beautiful fantasy in two and she would dissolve. Couldn’t trust that any noise he made would break whatever spell she was under and cause her to lean away. But she lingered, unwilling to move without word from him. He swallowed thickly again and replied.

“Yes?” He finally managed to eke out with a small gasp.

“Can I kiss you?”

All of the air seemed to leave the room. She spoke so freely. So honestly. A slight hush in her words but only the tiniest hint of a quiver in her voice.

It contrasted so starkly with the tremble that coursed through his body. Of course he wanted her to kiss him. What kind of a question was that? He wanted it more than he needed to breathe. But somehow, the words out there, the possibility at hand, filled him with a deeper fear than he knew existed. A fear that threatened to overtake even his desire for her. A lingering voice that scolded him; ‘you will never quite be good enough.’

She licked her lips again and Rolan finally found the courage to quell the voice once and for all. She gave him courage. She always had. She had been there for him when no one else was; not even himself. It had always been within him, the confidence, the desires; but she had been patient enough to slowly ease it out.

“Yes, please…” He croaked out.

She leaned forward, hands still on his cheeks and placed a tender lingering kiss on his lips. The sensation of her caressing his tail was nothing compared to this. To the soft, slightly moist feeling of her warm lips pressed against his.

It sent another surge of confidence and unleashed passion coursing through his body. He could already feel his tail tightening around her leg again. His hands, trembling with anticipation and desire before, useless on his lap, now reached forward, reaching for her, eager to pull her close.

The kiss deepened, spurred on by his reaction; Tav opened her mouth, welcoming him in and leaned in further. His hands found her waist, gripping it tight as her own tongue replied to his, dancing carefully over and around his pointed teeth.

Rolan couldn’t help but groan slightly as his body lit up with sparks, every sensation he had ever felt, good or bad, seemed to pale in comparison to this divine moment. Her mouth hot against his, their breath mingling. He found his stomach was flipping over, and there was a deep aching stir in the very core of his body. Tav leaned even closer, practically in his lap now even though her hips still firmly sat on the couch beneath them.

He struggled to keep up with her tongue at first. Hers was so careful and precise and he felt sloppy and careless, sweeping along her lips and occasionally fumbling out of them as he struggled to keep up and simultaneously rushed to catch up; kissing her like it was his first and last kiss. All messy and nervous and wet and eager.

Patient as ever, Tav slowed, giving them both a moment to find the right flow, adjusting her head to tip it to the side so they could lock lips fully. He breathed out a pleased sigh into her mouth as they found a pleasant connection, leaving their awkward tongues behind.

Confidence again surging, he tugged at her hips with a new found greedy need. Greedy. He once teased her with that very word, but now very much felt the acute actuality of the word itself. He was greedy for her. He needed more of her. Now that he had been given a taste, he felt practically insatiable.

Catching note of his eager tugs, without question or request now, Tav lifted up her legs and straddled his lap, letting his body adjust to sit back against the couch. The new position allowed a new level of closeness. Her body pressed fully against his now, his pulse pounding hard between them.

Rolan felt positively dizzy. Giddy even; and that was not a word he felt he had ever used or thought of using before. He wrapped his arms fully around her back now, taking advantage of the closeness to run his hands up and down her clothed spine. His tail had released her leg at her movement and now joined his hands at her waist, resting almost scandalously against the swell of her ass. Her own hands drifted down from his face, resting on his shoulders and gently playing with the edges of his hair that rested there.

He released another shuddering moan into the kiss, feeling her body sink deeper onto his, his body still lighting up in sensations he felt he never knew before. As his mind hurried to catch up to the evolving situation and new desires continued blooming within, one thing quickly became achingly clear. Much as his tail betrayed him before, he now felt a throbbing hardness hidden under the layer of his robes and pants. He had felt it pulse and twitch earlier at her careful caresses, but now with her intentions laid bare, the situation far from friendly, and her body pressed against his, there was no denying it as the blood rushed ever further down into his groin.

For a brief moment he felt as if he was almost searching for new things to fear to ignore the comfort and passion of their kisses. As perceptive as ever, Tav seemed to notice this new wave of nerves. That, or he realized, she couldn’t help but feel his erection pressed against her due to their proximity. She finally eased her mouth away from his, allowing them both to suck in a few much needed gulps of air.

Catching his eye and leaning her forehead close to his, he felt her adjust and give a long slow roll of her hips against his hardness.

Even through the many layers of fabric the sensation of pure pleasure that tore through him was undeniable. An unmistakably vulgar groan fell from his lips before he could quell it and he felt his eyelids flutter. Tav simply smiled, and repeated the motion, spreading her knees as wide as they could go to push her hips further against him.

Rolan trembled with delight; his mind once again racing to catch up to this new development. But as his mind looked for ways to worry about this, he found himself coming up blank. The unrelenting lust and passion of the situation finally staking claim on all of his senses. It felt so good. Too good to ignore or deny further.

Another roll of her hips had his heart racing at the unimaginable level of pleasure just the mere friction of her body pressing against his made him feel. She moved more purposefully now, without pause or hesitation, grinding her very core, her own heat, against him. Her goal it seemed, lay in far more carnal pleasures than just simply driving him mad.

He dipped a hand under the edge of her loose tunic as she continued to writhe against him, and he splayed his hand across her naked back. Savoring again the feeling of her flesh against his.

It was miraculous. It was indecent. It was passionate. It was lewd. But most importantly in his head, above all else – it just felt so fucking good.

“Tav…” He groaned, unable and now finally unafraid of holding back his vocal enjoyment at this point. “If you keep going...I...I’m going...to…” Each word came out punctuated by a heavy gasping breath. He was fully panting now, the sheer ecstasy at feeling her rut against him, at the friction rubbing against his hard cock, at the entire situation really – all already so close to pushing him over the edge.

Her response was immediate. She paused her rocking and pulled back a touch to look him square in the eye. There was not a trace of annoyance in her face; just pure care for him. For his comfort.

“Do you want me to stop?” She asked, a little breathless. His throat burned. The immediacy of her response to him. Her unfaltering care for his feelings. The genuine and absolute respect. It struck him hard in the chest and felt almost as painful as the sudden loss of her delicious movements.

His eyes met hers. Part of him realized how improper this all was. He should be lavishing her with flowers and gifts. He supposed. He didn’t have much experience with it, but came to understand that was the thing to do during proper courtships. But a deeper part of him didn’t care. The city was in crumbles around them. They had defeated an army of mind-flayers and he himself had been to hell and back. To the hells with what was proper. He had tied his life to being stifled and composed; there was a time and place for it and now was neither.

“No, please don’t stop.” He finally breathed out. She grinned and leaned back in for another sweeping kiss, immediately resuming the pulsing and rocking of her hips against his. His entire body filled to the brim with burning fire again and another loud moan fell from his lips and the return of the sensation that was bringing him to the brink.

Tav was moaning too, he realized, soft breathy sounds, her breath hot against his ears. Provoked by the idea that she was possibly getting even a tiniest bit of the same level of pleasure from this that he was, he sat up slightly. He wrapped his arms fully around her, drawing her closer and holding her tight.

All last thoughts of maintaining composure well and fully gone, he thrust his groin up in time with her own movements. It took him a moment to find the right rhythm, the practice of movements such as this not in his natural repertoire. But before long they synced up in unison and increased the pace.

“Yes. Tav. Please. Tav. Please. Yes.” Words spilled from his lips with each jerking movement as the sensation within him built to a feverish peak. As the tingling feeling crested within him, at the last moments, all words seem to fail. Only moans and salacious grunts remained.

His grip tightened around her waist, one clawed hand grasping at her shirt, the other leaving scratches on her bare back as his body begin to coil and tense. It was the moment just before a spell releases, that last uttered syllable as it traveled from throat to teeth to air, bringing forth all kinds of magic into existence. He met her eyes again and she was that moment.

Her face was flush from her exertions, her pupils blown wide, staring at him with pure desire, her absolute and incessant need to take care of him. Him.

A last roll of her hips and he was done. He cried out obscenely as his tension released and he came so hard that his head spun. His cock pulsed, pressed hard between them, spilling his seed in his pants beneath his robe. As waves of his orgasm crested and rolled through his shaking and sputtering body, he felt his whole body begin to release in a way he didn’t think was possible. He tossed his head back to lean on the back of the couch it seemed like every muscle in his body went limp at once. He indeed thought he might pass out with the way his heart pounded in his chest and he sucked in deep gasps of air; thinking he might never catch his breath.

Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind he thought of the mess he had made, in his own clothes no less, but it was quickly overtaken by the feeling of Tav leaning close, looking to close the gap he had created by sinking into the couch.

She placed a wet kiss against the throbbing pulse of his neck and nuzzled her face there while he rode out the high of his own selfish, greedy pleasure.

After a moment of deep breathing and bliss, his heart started to calm and points of panic and fear started to creep back into his mind one by one. He adjusted his head slightly to sit up, needing to face her. Feeling him move, Tav sat up further as well to meet his eyes, but made no move to climb down off his lap.

“Can I still take you to dinner?” He asked quickly as their eyes met, addressing the most pressing of his concerns; that this was just a little fling. He pulled his hand back out of her shirt, wanting this to feel as formal and romantic as possible now, given the situation. Tav smiled brightly and gave an eager nod, leaning in for a quick, and rather chaste, kiss.

“I would be a little offended if you didn’t.” She raised a brow at him. “How about tonight?” She suggested and he once again reveled in her boldness. A quality, he quite felt, that was rubbing off on him.

Rolan cleared his throat; it would be next to impossible to regain full composure after what they had done, but he still tried.

“Yes. Grand. Wonderful. Great. We shall...um… have dinner tonight then.” He said, sounding almost curt in his attempt to seem collected.

Tav was utterly unfazed by his tone and gave him another smile and a tender kiss on his lips before starting to try and disentangle herself from his hands and tail, intending on standing up.

Despite the embarrassing mess in his pants, despite the awkwardness of the situation, despite her trying to start to pull away; he found himself pulling her back. His whole body, not just his tail this time, speaking for him and refusing to let her go. He pulled her back in tightly and pressed his cheek to hers, letting his eyes shut with a soft sigh as her warm body enveloped his.

Tav paused a moment before giving in and wrapped her arms around his neck, relaxing herself back into his arms.

“Can we just…stay like this a moment more?” He whispered softly into her neck before he lost the courage to do so. He found himself struck with a deep fear at letting her go. It overtook any apprehension he felt about actually giving his feelings a voice. What if she didn’t come back? What if something happened to her? What it what if what it. But, most striking among his worry, was the ache he could already feel at lack of contact. Now that he had felt her touch he didn’t think he could survive without it.

“As long as you like.” Tav whispered back with a smile against his cheek.

#my writing #rolan bg3 #bg3 rolan #rolan x tav #rolan nation #rolan #bg3 smut #rolan fanfic

[chernabogs]

Belladonna, Forget-me-not, Hyssop, dwarf sunflower 🌻

ouagh thank you for sending a request <3 check out the list here! <3

Inc: Lilia (both present and general), Reader, Silver, Sebek mention WC: 3.5k Warnings: War mention, arson, crimes committed during war time (all my homies hate Silver Owls). Lilia cussing, as he should. Flowers: Belladonna (a confession given without words aka we are pining mentally in the club), Forget me not (the one thing I remembered and how it brought me back to you), Hyssop (one last walk through a house—sort of), Sunflower, dwarf (how many ways do I have to confess for you to believe me?). Some flexibility with these. Summary: A trinket he had forgotten pulls him down a path of memories that he wishes he could forget.

There’s a sunflower in the garden this year. 

He thinks it’s quite curious when he first sees the bud, its petals still closed tight as though afraid to enter the world. He’s standing outside of the front door of his cottage with a mug in hand as he gives it a scrutinizing look. The silence of the forest surrounding his home lets him focus ample attention on how this oddity came to be. Silver has run to town and won’t be back until the evening, aiding Sebek in purchasing school supplies for the coming year, and Malleus is likely packing in his eagerness to get out of the palace for another ten months. 

It’s just Lilia, his mug, and the sunflower. 

“Shy, are we?” He murmurs in amusement as he raises the mug to his lips before they twist to a wry grimace. Perhaps being alone is not good for him—he’s beginning to speak to his gardens like an old man already. 

He wisely turns heel and re-enters the cottage as he downs the bitter coffee before discarding the mug in the sink. He’ll wash the dishes before Silver gets home, only because he knows the boy will do it all himself if he doesn’t, which would do nothing but make Lilia feel guilty. Silver insists it’s fine, he’s happy to help his father—but it shouldn’t be that way. His brow furrows in dissatisfaction as he weaves through the cottage's halls to arrive at his bedroom.

Contrary to his room at NRC, this one is so barren it looks downright unoccupied, like no one has ever lived in it to begin with. Lilia had moved most of his valuables with him when he had received notice of his pending enrolment alongside Malleus. This at least makes sorting out what he’s to wear today much easier as he pulls open the closet to peer inside. His fingers dance along the various fabrics as he hums, and haws, and already knows he’s going to wear the same outfit he wears essentially every day.

Lilia Vanrouge has become a man of consistency—another factor that serves to paint him as ‘old’. 

“Decrepit, even,” he grumbles to himself as he tosses his clothes onto the bed. Perhaps he can spice it up a bit to combat these self-perpetuated accusations through the application of an accessory. The thought pleases him enough to make him reach for the top shelf of his closet, his hand hitting against objects and shoving things around in his bid to grab something useful. Maybe he would have benefited from just floating up to see what he needed to get, because his hand soon hits an item that topples off the shelf and nearly clocks him in the face.

“Shit!” He snarls as he moves back. The box clatters to the floor by his foot with a loud rattle, causing him to glare down at it accusingly. His eyes narrow as another low curse slips out and he fumbles to pick the box up. 

It’s made of carved wood—oak, by the weight of it. Each etching along the sides paints a tale that draws Lilia to a stop as he turns it over in his hands. A figure perched on a tree branch with another sitting beneath, a blade and wood in hand. The two figures are next in a home, with a few flowers hanging to dry from a window. Then they are standing beside each other by a body of water; the carving here is detailed enough that he can see apprehension in one’s gaze and sternness in the others. 

The final carving is incomplete, only because a blackened char mark has burnt the wood to an unusable state. 

Ah.

He remembers why he didn’t take this to NRC. He remembers why he had it shoved in the back of the closet like something rotten, something meant to be concealed. He feels his mood darken as he turns the box over again. Each nick, each mark, tells a tale of something that stirs a burning shame in his gut. His hands tighten enough that he hears the wood creaking under his strength before they relax once more. 

Then, he pauses. Silver won’t be back until far later in the day. He has nothing to do but wash a mug that now sits fermenting in his sink. Beyond this, he’ll simply be wandering from room to room in his cottage like a ghost, perhaps cutting some firewood, perhaps seeing if the bloody quails that have been tormenting his vegetable gardens are back. 

Lilia moves until the back of his knees hit his bed and he sits down, cradling the box more gently now. A sudden urge—a bit of masochistic curiosity—tugs at his heart as his lips curl into a sneer. His thumb brushes against the carving of the figure crouching in the tree. 

Well, if he needs a good way to kill an hour or so. 

“All is as if it were days long past. No matter where it takes us, it will all be over in the blink of an eye. Far cry cradle.” 

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The memory begins as it always did any time that he did this. He’s just over 300 years old, his hair long and his body perched on the branches of a tree. He forgot that if he’s personally in the memory, his magic has a habit of tossing him headfirst directly into his body again. The scent of pine overwhelms him as he looks across a Briar Valley that once was just as full of life as he. Green, as far as the eye can see, and the songs of birds that have since gone extinct filling the warm air. 

He shifts on the branch and closes his eyes for a moment as he drinks it all in. Things long since gone, things he wishes he could experience just one more time in his current life. He almost loses himself in the memory—a dangerous risk—before he hears the faint sound of scraping from beneath where he’s perched.

Lilia’s eyes snap open and his gaze travels down to see a figure with a cloak sitting against the pine tree, their hood pulled up as their hands expertly carve a piece of wood with their blade. He can’t quite tell what it is they’re making—and truthfully, he’s long since forgotten. 

But the sound of their voice as they hum an old folk song he hasn’t heard since the war times makes him tense all the same. 

You.

Fuck.

The uncomfortableness of the situation, the realization that perhaps doing this was a mistake on his part, makes him shift back on the branch. This is enough to make a few twigs snap and force your attention to jerk upwards to where he lay. His red gaze locks onto yours as every sound in the forest falls silent and all he knows is the confusion in your eyes. 

“How long have you been up there?” You blurt out, your voice sounding exactly how he hears it in his dreams for the past four hundred years. A strangled sound leaves his throat, and with all of the energy he can muster, Lilia jerks himself free of the memory. 

_________________________________________________________

He stutters for air as his eyes open once more and he grips the box tight. The carving of his body on the branch overlooking yours at the base is now just a mockery for things he foolishly lost. The only way he can know you now is through the use of magic, and even that cannot return you entirely. 

He shouldn’t be doing this. A glance at the clock on the wall tells him he was in the memory for fifteen minutes, despite it feeling only like mere seconds. 

He shouldn’t be doing this. He turns the box over in his hand to look at the next carving. The two figures in a home, with a few flowers hanging to dry from a window. He notes with a bitter amusement that they’re all sunflowers.

The box should go back on the top shelf. He should lock it away again and forget it, leave it for Silver to find only once his father is dead and rotting under the earth. Perhaps the boy can finish what the humans started—burning it to nothing but cinders. 

He shouldn’t be doing this to himself, and yet… 

“All is as if it were days long past. No matter where it takes us, it will all be over in the blink of an eye. Far cry cradle.” 

_________________________________________________________

Lilia finds himself standing in a small cottage eerily reminiscent of his own. He knows a few months have passed since the first encounter by the way there’s snow falling heavily from the skies outside. Briar Valley’s winters are vicious—as untamed as the land itself once had been before metal teeth had torn it apart and left the fae to clean its viscera. His gaze travels to the window nearby to look out at the landscape before it’s drawn upwards to the flowers hanging down from the sill. 

Sunflowers, which look as fresh as the day they were likely picked, paint a cheery picture against the bleak backdrop beyond. 

“I am afraid it isn’t quite perfect, but it should do the trick to warm you up.” Your voice's soft cadence causes his shoulders to tense as he doesn’t turn around to face you. He can hear you humming, the sound of a bowl being set on a nearby table, and the aroma of something so intoxicating it makes his stomach twist in phantom hunger. “Why were you rushing through this blizzard to begin with?”

Lilia blinks as silence falls. You’re waiting for his response. This likely won’t play out unless he gives it.

“Her majesty bid me to deliver a missive to Princess Meleanor.” He murmurs, eyes still fixated on the sunflower. They almost look real to him despite the knowledge that this is nothing but an illusion. He hears you hum in disapproval. You often did that—hummed a lot, laughed a lot.

“Terrible weather to be doing so, but I suppose if it’s urgent, you can’t sit on it. At least have something to eat before you go braving Briar Nation once more.” 

His head turns slightly so that he can catch a glimpse of you in his peripheral vision. Your back is to him as you scoop more food into a second bowl. You’re not unique—just another fae in a nation of many—but you stand out to him. Four hundred years later, he still struggles to rationalize why. 

“You must like sunflowers a lot.” He comments abruptly. He didn’t say this in the memory, and he can tell by the way it seems to stutter around him. You still turn and look at him in confusion, however. “You only have sunflowers hanging on your window.”

“Oh!” You seem surprised, and then delighted as a smile graces your face. He wishes he had never seen that again. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” 

He wants to say something, perhaps ‘I know’, but the memory melts away before the words can leave his tongue.

_________________________________________________________

Lilia tastes copper when his eyes snap to the clock on the wall. Thirty minutes have gone by now—another fifteen in the previous memory. His hands shake slightly as he turns the box over like a man under a compulsion. The carving of two figures by the water seems to be taunting him as his thumb traces across your body. 

He doesn’t even bother speaking the phrase clearly this time. It comes as a mumble, and suddenly he’s falling into darkness again. 

_________________________________________________________

Tension is palpable when Lilia opens his eyes. Although it’s spring, the warmth seems nonexistent in the air as deafening silence fills where he stands. You’re by his side, your arms crossed tight over your chest as you stare at the pond beyond. By your feet, a patch of sunflowers smiles up at the bright skies above.

“How much longer do you think it will last before they wipe it clean?” You ask, your voice containing barely concealed rage as your nails dig into your sleeves. His jaw clenches as he shrugs one shoulder.

“A week. A month. A year. It could be any amount of time. They have new machines that they’ve been using—new means to rip open our nation to reach its heart.” He scoffs and turns sharply. “Fucking humans. Why did they need to come here to begin with? We were fine before they came crawling onto our shores, with their bitching, and moaning, and noxious fucking machines!”

“Lilia.” Your voice is calmer as he feels your hand touch his arm. His fury simmers slightly under this action. “At least we’re gaining some ground against them, right? And they haven’t reached all of Briar Nation yet. I can still provide game and herbs to the neighbouring villages—there’s an abundance surrounding my cottage.” 

Lilia wants to say that’s because all of the animals are being driven deeper into the woods, but he holds his tongue as he meets your steadfast gaze. In the period of time since he’s come to know you, he’s also realized that your stubbornness will have you refuting every claim with an optimistic one of your own. Already you had staunchly refused to leave your cottage despite the looming threat drawing ever so nearby.

“I need to go soon.” He finally sighs as he tears his gaze away from you to the pond again. He hasn’t seen this pond since the war era simply because he knows it was drained for the Silver Owls' use. He hears your own sigh slip out as you remove your hand. The skin that you touched aches in its absence. 

He steals a glance at you and tries to preserve your side-profile in his mind. If he could, he would carve it onto every surface he possessed, marking every line and bump that comprised the masterpiece that is you to his liking. He has already devoted himself by this point to mapping these curves with his fingers under the shadow of Briar Nations endless nights. He has memorized every sound you make, as sweet as any song can be, and which places on your body elicit such music. You had both entered this dance as a means to release stress—but now, four hundred years later, he knows it meant so much more. 

He wants to sweep you in his arms. He wants to pull you to safety, to silence your protests with hushed whispers and utterances of his devotion. He wants to pour his heart into your hands until he’s empty and belonging entirely to you. He is a man who, once he devotes himself to something, gives endlessly until he remains a ghost of who he once was.

He loves you in this moment, where the sun dapples your skin, and he can pretend he’s still in the Briar Nation he knew. So, he breaks conduct again. 

“You should leave.” The memory wavers at his words. In the past, he had simply turned at this point to begin returning to your cottage so that he could ready his travel pack. “You should go to the next village over. Go somewhere safe.”

The memory wavers again, fraying along the edges, and yet still Lilia finds himself persevering. “Please. I don’t want to see what’s going to happen next.” 

You turn to look at him as his vision begins to darken. Your brow furrows, confusion etching your face as the last words you speak feel like a nail in his own coffin. 

“Lilia, this is my home.”  

_________________________________________________________

He doesn’t immediately speak as he comes back again. The clock shows forty-five minutes have passed now, and the lighting in the bedroom he sits in has altered to reflect this. A numbness has crept into his body and settled just below his skin. It fluctuates and writhes like an insect and causes him to shiver as he rotates the box once more.

The last carving is incomplete. The black marks that mar its surface guarantee this. Faintly, he can smell smoke on both the box and his hands as he traces his thumb across this, as well.

It comes back filthy. 

Lilia’s expression schools itself to a blank look as the silence of the empty cottage perpetuates. Only his breathing breaks the still air, stuttering slightly as his lips part. 

“... far cry cradle.” 

_________________________________________________________

Lilia can smell it before he sees it. Wood, smouldering in the unforgiving winter sun, accompanied by something more pungent and feral. He’s already running by the time he snaps into the memory, his feet dragging through heavy snow as he fights against the elements to reach the treeline. He can see dark smoke pluming upwards.

It’s always too late by the time he arrives. 

His steps slow, his feet drawing to a stop as cold snow soaks through his pants. Before him lays a painting of carnage, crafted by human hands, and displayed for the eyes of any fae passing by. Footsteps trample in the aged snow that surrounds the smouldering husk of the structure. Your words regarding your cottage being in a hot spot for game and herbs ring as a mockery now in his ears as he slowly, slowly, inches closer. 

“Hello?” His voice cracks as the words leave him. The forest echoes them back—hello? Hello? Hello?

Stone dust scatters across the white earth as his hand comes to touch the frame you had been so proud of when you had first shown it off. Burnt, with embers still smouldering in the wood. He feels afraid to step further, but he knows that if he doesn’t then he’ll never get the satisfaction of knowing whether you may have survived it or not. 

Lilia passes through the door frame. He looks up to what remains of your roof, to the space where sunflowers once hung, and then just beyond the large wooden table you had carved for yourself as well. A small box sits perfectly on its blackened surface, like it had been placed on display intentionally for his discovery. 

The memory begins to blur at this point. Things that should be there soon bleed into black outlines, dripping down onto the floor with a rhythmic thump. He can see static in what looks like the shape of an arm peeking out from behind the table leg as his stomach twists, and rage begins to flood through his veins in place of blood. A stuttering breath leaves him as the static arm remains still.

He is General Lilia Vanrouge. He is a soldier. He is meant to protect his people, and yet, and yet—

_________________________________________________________

Lilia snaps out of this memory by throwing the box to the floor. It clatters at his outburst before he kicks it viciously into the closet, his breath leaving him in ragged gasps as he does. His mind is a blur as his one hand grips the sheets beneath him and the other grabs his collar, trying to ground him in the moment before the whole world spins out of proportion. 

He is not General Lilia Vanrouge. He is not a soldier. He is not walking into the home of the person he thought he loved, forced to bury what was left of them in a pauper's grave—just another loss in the wartime. 

He is a man, sitting in his cottage, with a son who will be home by evening and a school he needs to pack for. 

“Fuck,” he groans, pressing his face into his hands as he shakes himself free of the thoughts. “Fuck... fuck!”

A brief glance at the clock shows an hour has passed by now. His chest feels heavy, and his mind full of cotton as he dresses in a mechanical manner before going about his chores for the day.

By the time Silver returns, he’s fought off the quails, weeded the garden, cut firewood, and cleared the gutters. What he hasn’t done is clean the mug that’s been sitting in the sink since the morning—a task that Silver happily takes on after Lilia looks close to losing it.

If his son notices anything else off about his father, he says nothing about it, but Lilia does note the way Silver seems a bit more talkative than usual this evening. Lilia’s mind continues to replay the memories he experienced in a macabre theatrical viewing as he tries hard to listen to what Silver is saying. Eventually, they both fall silent as Silver washes the mug, along with the dishes from dinner in addition. The sun is beginning to set when he pauses to peer out the window with a curious expression.

“Did you see the sunflower in the garden?” Silver asks, his voice soft as he finishes drying off the mug. Lilia raises an eyebrow as he looks up again.

“What about it?” 

“It opened up.” Silver looks surprised, and then delighted as a smile graces his face. Lilia’s eyes widen as he notes the similarities between the childish joy on his son's face, and that which he once saw on your own.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

#lilia vanrouge #lilia x reader #(ish) #twst #twst x reader #twst fanfiction #twst spoilers #yeah #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst lilia #phew ok girlies i think that hits it #anyway went off kinda... oop

[fandom-go-round]

Obey Me! Demon Brothers’ #1 kinks?

I did some classics and some new ones here, just having some fun. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Sex, Sexual Situations, Wax Play, Orgasm Denial, Somophilia, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Cock Warming, Voyeurism, Semi Public Sex, Sex Videos, Taking Photos During Sex

Lucifer is really into wax play. Not just the wax of course but the entire set up and prep. Having you willingly give into him, let him tie you up and then trust him to know your limits? He’s so hard it hurts. You’ve already cum twice before he even gets to the candles, the scent your favorite. He’s determined to draw this out so be ready; he’s not going to stop until the flames snuff out.

Mammon is into orgasm denial, both for himself and you. There are days when he’s being extra whiny and bratty. Those are the best days to make him work for his orgasm; he’ll do anything to cum. Be ready for him to flip the scrip though. He wants you to feel good for as long as you let him. He wants all of your attention all of the time. Call him a brat or praise him, as long as you give it your all and Mammon will return it times ten.

Levi’s biggest kink is anal sex. It doesn’t sound like much but it’s the one thing Levi goes back to consistently. He loves are sorts of things but has issues expressing what he really wants. Anal is ‘tame’ enough that he doesn’t mind requesting it and that makes him more comfortable to bring up other kinks. He always wants to use his tail, especially when doing anal. Be clear and gentle with Levi and he’ll reveal all his dirty secrets to you.

Satan loves a long cock warming session. It’s two fold; he loves being close and intimate with you but he’s also a horrible tease and wants to see how long you can hold out. He’ll happily pick up a book or start studying with you in his lap. He might scold you for squirming but he doesn’t mean it; Satan loves seeing how desperate you are for him. If you’re ever able to reverse the positions? He’s not going to last long, tears gathering in the corner of his eyes as he grits his teeth. He’s gorgeous.

Asmo loves voyeurism in all forms. From having sex in a semi-public space to teasing you in public, he’s into it all. He never wants to do it where you’ll actually get caught but the thrill can get him going. If you’re not into that, it’s alright. Asmo also loves to take pictures of you and record videos. His eyes only of course! But if you pose for him and let him snap a quick pic? Oooh he’ll love you even more!

Beel is a man with simple tastes. Simple tastes meaning you on his tongue of course. He’s into oral, not if ands or buts. Beel is happiest between your legs, wherever is most comfortable for you. On the bed? He’ll kneel on the floor. Straddling his face? Don’t worry babe, he’s got you. Against the wall? He’ll hold you up. Just don’t ask him to stop any time soon, he’s content where he is.

Belphie isn’t a huge surprise but he loves sleepy sex. He loves the feeling of being half awake and sliding into you, rolling his hips slowly. It’s even better when you’re the one riding him, barely raising your hips as you fuck yourself on him. He can’t help but mark you up with his teeth and hands; his hips might not be moving but that doesn’t mean the rest of him isn’t.

#obey me imagine #obey me #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmo x reader #beel x reader #belphegor x reader #obey me x reader #beelzebub x reader #asmodeus x reader #lucifer imagine #mammon imagine #leviathan imagine #satan imagine #asmo imagine #beel imagine #belphie imagine #belphegor imagine #beelzebub imagine #asmodeus imagine #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor

[ageless-aislynn]

The one thing I regret the most is that I can't support everybody as much as I wish I could. I want to comment on everything my mutuals say because whatever they posted is important to them, so it's important to me, too! I want to comment on and reblog every fic they write, everything they draw, every GIFset they make, every headcanon post, every theory they put forth. I just want them to know how much I value them and their opinions and the things they create and I just inevitably miss so much and it makes me sad.

#mutuals my beloved #honestly you don't even have to be one of my mutuals for me to feel this way #i want to support everybody #i want all fics to be read and have comments #i want all creative posts whatever they are to feel appreciated #if you post about your day i want to like that post so you know someone saw it and they care #it just... burns me that i can't do this for everybody #i can't even do it consistently for a handful of people #i know nobody expects that #it's just how i feel #i feel helpless sometimes in life #and this makes me feel like i can support somebody and can maybe make their day a little better in this way #and i want to do it #you ought to see my list of to-be-read fics #i WANT to be reading them all #but if i don't have the time or the energy to comment i don't want to read and then forget to comment you know? #commenting on fics and vids and art posts is important to me #anyway i'm just rambling #i just wanted to let you know if i've failed to comment on or interact with in someway something of yours it's not because i don't care #i just didn't get there yet #or it slipped through the swiss cheese holes in my brain somehow #but i love you and support you and you're so important and i want you to always know that okay? #ageless aislynn

[lyingindecay]

Desperately need more norm fics, I’d die for a norm smut or smut headcanon.

Gonna stick with headcanons for now, as I have a smut fic planned!

warnings/info: 18+ minors dni! mentions of overstim(?), gn!reader (no mentions specific body parts), dry humping (of course let me know if i missed anything!)

Let's hop right in!

Norm is not a super enthusiastic individual, that is known. BUT! I feel like he can be enthusiastic when it comes to sex.

LOVES to cuddle up close to you. Usually that turns into him (or you) dry humping the other and whining.

Head game is strong.

Very enthusiastic about going down on you. Maybe he isn't too experienced at first, but he is very willing to learn when it comes to you.

Can and will sit between your legs for as long as you'd like. Usually, until you're a whining messing, begging for more than just his tongue.

While he is happy to have sex with you, most of the time it isn't a quickie or super quick/rough sex.

Likes for it to be drawn out. Especially in the beginning of your relationship. He wants to know you. Really know your body.

VERY attentive. Takes all the time he can to learn everything that gets you going and is mindful of the things you don't like.

Is going to love his partner regardless, but definitely does not mind at all if you are taller than him.

Would definitely use a height difference to his advantage.

I see him loving to be little spoon. While he doesn't mind holding you, he's stressed please hold him too.

I feel like my man has never received great head, so is sort of indifferent towards it. As soon as he learns how great it can feel though? BRO IS BEGGING. HE IS NOT ABOVE BEGGING.

Not huge on PDA but will hold your hand and give you sweet little kisses if you're just around the vault.

If you tease him, at all, anywhere but the bedroom he gets flustered and will tell you he is going to handle it (you) later.

This consists of going down on your until you're sensitive and a crying mess. Which in turn leaves you continually teasing Norm... Poor guy can't catch a break.

I have soooo many ideas about so many different things with Norm (and like most fallout 2024 characters tbh) but so little time... If there is anything specific y'all want touched on let me know! Thanks for the request!

#fallout #fallout smut #norm maclean #norman maclean #norm maclean x reader #x reader #anon #ask #answered #fallout 2024 #fallout tv series #fallout prime #fallout imagine

[lily-fics-11]

Maybe I Just Like Seeing You Fired Up (Ellie Williams, TLOU)

This is my first time writing Ellie so I hope you like it. Lmk what you think:)

Inspired by a prompt by @remy-lupin

CW: Not beta read, profanities, sexual undertones, mention of injury, pet names

You rarely got assigned to patrol with Ellie, which was no coincidence. The two of you have a tendency to butt heads. You by no means hate, or even dislike her, you just operate in different ways. Your social circles didn’t overlap, she was a little younger than you. So the only time you had ever spent with her was on patrol, where disagreements were consistent. It only got worse over time. After many others had observed your bickering, the two of you stopped being scheduled together. 

Unfortunately, a few minor injuries had been sustained when an unexpected storm rolled in during a scouting trip yesterday. You hadn’t been there, and neither had Ellie. You were more than willing to pick up the extra shift that they asked you to. 

After emerging into a clearing from some densely packed trees, you look over at Ellie. Her toned arms are crossed and you can tell by the look on her face that she is also pondering what move to make. You run a hand through your hair in frustration, knowing that this would most likely cause the first of many disagreements. 

Ellie is the first to share her thoughts. “That hill looks pretty rocky, we should probably dismount and check how stable the terrain is before trying to take the horses over it.”

Not what you were thinking, but you had been begged to play nice.

You nod at her, “we can do that.”

“Oh really?” Ellie asks smugly.

You dismount your horse and straighten up your posture. “That’s why I said it.”

“I’m just surprised.” Ellie snickers.

You put your hands on your hips. “This shouldn’t take more than a few hours, and we are both adults. I’m sure we can manage to cooperate knowing we shouldn’t have to do this again any time soon.”

Ellie hops off her horse. “I actually agree with you for once.”

“Good, let’s keep it that way.”

The two of you approach the bottom of the hill. The incline is mild, so if the rocks aren’t loose, the trek over could actually save some time. The two of you start to kick and pull at rocks.

At the same time that you say “I’m not so sure about this,” Ellie declares “seems alright to me.” She’s always been a risk taker. 

You look over at Ellie and roll your eyes which causes her to sigh. “So much for getting along,” she mumbles. 

“Come on Ellie, the rocks are stable right at the bottom but there are a few loose ones as you go higher up and for all we know it could get worse.”

“Fine, give me a second to test that theory,” Ellie tells you, sounding a little annoyed as she starts to climb a little higher. 

“Ellie, that's not a good idea. The last thing we need is another injury.”

She gives you a sarcastic smile. “Don’t you worry about me, darlin’, I’ll be careful.”

“Why do you always feel the need to challenge me?” you scoff, head tilted to one side, taking a step towards her. To Ellie that was a challenge, igniting a fire in her emerald eyes. She moves forwards slowly, until your faces are mere inches apart, with a cocky grin on her face. “Maybe I just like seeing you fired up.”

That was not at all what you expected so you retreat a few steps to try and recollect yourself. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You inquire. Her statement was far more personal than anything either of you had ever said to each other, aside from the small talk before you realized that you clashed. From very early on things had been strictly business. Her mischievous eyes roll playfully. “Oh come on, I know you’re smarter than that.”

“Quit fucking around Ellie.” You check the time on your watch, getting impatient. 

“I think we should clear the air,” she suggests with urgency. 

“Of what?” You question, gesturing to the space around you. 

Ellie mimics you, which you do not appreciate. “This tension that we have. I know we don't see eye to eye, but I think there is more to it. How else would a little stubbornness escalate to keeping us separated all the time?” Your eyes wander around, looking for where she got the audacity. 

Ellie is still trying to prove her point. “Like I said, I don’t think that’s it.”

You put your hands up in the air. “I’m out of guesses here.”

“Everyone knows you like girls,” Ellie smirks, “I think you like me.”

“Oh really? I like girls so I must like you, is that it? Fuck off.” You turn away, back towards your horse but Ellie grabs your arm. You try to free yourself from her grip but it’s useless. You look at her over your shoulder. 

“Alright, maybe I’m projecting, but I’ve seen the way you look at me.” She says bluntly. 

You would be lying if you denied how attractive Ellie is. That her smile is endearing and you like how her eyes sparkle when she gets excited about something. You may have even had a bit of a crush on her before you met. But then you actually spoke to her. There was friction and there was another girl pursuing you, so you dropped it.

“But the only reason I’ve noticed is because I’m always looking at you,” Ellie admits, eyes softening as she bites the lips you've tried not to pay attention to. “Ellie, we don't have time for this.”

“Fine, I can wait. I’ll even make a deal with you. We do this your way, and we finish this conversation later.”

Standing on Ellie’s front porch, you hesitate to knock. This was bound to be awkward, like the rest of patrol had been. She had relinquished control and allowed you to call the shots. At least if she had challenged every call you made like she usually does it would not have been silent.

When Ellie opens the door she bites back a smile and lets you in. You follow her into the living room and sit down on her couch. You nervously try to get comfortable. Despite achieving physical comfort, you are anxious as hell. There are a lot of different ways this could go and most of them were bad. But when a girl like Ellie Williams notices you, that’s not something you can just ignore. And when a girl that looks like Ellie Williams asks you to do something, how could you ever say no?

Ellie sits with her legs spread, her elbows resting on her knees. At first she looked down at the floor, even though you were expecting her to talk first.

“So…” you say, trying to find a train of thought. 

Ellie’s glances over at you, looking a little lost at first. But after searching your eyes for a moment you can see her focus on you. “I’m sorry. I invited you here. How was the rest of your day?”

“Nothing special. Just spent some time outside reading.”

“Did you eat something? If not, I can make you something.” You really aren’t used to seeing this softer side of Ellie. Her shit eating grin had seemed to be a permanent fixture on her face. But her smile is sweet, her eyes are soft, and her cheeks are flushed pink. 

You know you are failing to hide your smile. “That’s actually very sweet of you, thank you, but I had dinner already.”

Ellie elbows playfully, “don’t sound so surprised.” You have to take a deep breath as you try and figure out how you feel about the physical contact.

Failing to look her in the eyes, you tell her that “you’re not exactly a ray of sunshine, Williams.”

Ellie gasps dramatically. “Really? I would describe myself as a radiant beam of light. Maybe if you gave me a chance you would know that.”

You rest your chin on your hand, ready to listen. “Then let me get to know you. I came here to talk, so let’s talk.”

“One night at the bar I saw you when you came in and I did a bit of a double take. That older girl, I can’t remember her name, but she works across the way at that little shop with her family. She had her arm around you.” Ellie is referring to your ex-girlfriend. A few years older than you, so a fair bit older than Ellie.

You nervously play with your hair. “We aren’t together anymore, things just… didn't work out.”

“Oh I know.”

“You do?” 

Ellie smiles and looks down at her converse. “I haven’t always, but I’ve been paying attention to you. It’s not that I had never looked at you before, I’d just never really seen you. It wasn’t until I saw you with another girl that I noticed all the little things. The way even plain colors bring out your eyes, the shadows that dim lighting create on your face. When you smile… your whole face lights up. And the way you laugh? You always scrunch up your nose and tuck your hair behind your ear. After that night my eyes always seemed to find you, in every room. I looked forward to seeing you when we still got put on shifts together, but I didn’t know how to act around you so I just ended up pissing you off and we both know how that ended. After that I had to settle for seeing you during briefs when we were working at the same time, before we got sent off our separate ways. If I got lucky I would see you when we happened to be in the same place in town at the same time. At first I thought I was crazy, until I realized you were actually looking back. You would glance over your shoulder or peek out of the corner of your eye, and smile when you looked away.”

“I guess I knew that I looked at you sometimes. But all those things that you noticed about me… I had no idea that you did. I had always assumed you never thought twice about me.”

Ellie looks deeply into your eyes when she tells you “I spend more time thinking about you then I care to admit. Ever since I found out about your breakup I’ve been wanting to talk to you. So when they told me I was going to be assigned someone different today, I asked for it to be you.

“You could have just talked to me.”

“How was I supposed to know that? You don’t like me. And you are intimidating. You aren’t just any girl. You are smart and strong-willed and passionate.”

The compliment takes you by surprise so you are unsure of how to respond to it. “It’s not that I don’t like you, I just disagree with you most of the time.”

Ellie bites her lip. “So what do you like about me?”

Unprepared for this question you mumble “um, your tattoo?”

Ellie crossed her arms, “I meant about my personality. But fine, we can start there. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t happy that you like it. Do you have any?”

“Yeah, vines, up the side of my ribcage. Do you want to see?”

“It’s on your… you’d have to take off your…” the panic in her eyes was obvious. 

You stand and slide your shirt up, just enough to show the entire tattoo. Ellie’s eyes widen and her jaw slightly drops. 

“That's…”

“Hot? That’s what people usually tell me.”

“Got a bit of an ego there, don't ya. But yeah, actually. Like really hot.”

“You can touch it, if you want,” offering it up because you feel a bit mischievous.

Ellie purses her mouth as she traces her index finger over the vine, starting just above your hip bone and going all the way to the base of your breast. Her long fingers almost graze over the edge of your bra but she quickly pulls away. 

You sit back down, much closer to Ellie than you had been before. Your eyes flicker between the way she is staring at you and the smile she’s failing to hide. Ellie slowly leans forwards until your noses are about to touch. You close your eyes, expecting her to kiss you, but you feel her tuck your hair behind your ear instead. She grazes her fingertips over your neck as she slides her hand around the back of it so she can pull you in. Her other arm, which feels as strong as it looks, wraps around your waist. Ellie kisses you gently at first, allowing the two of you to fall in sync with each other. But her hand creeps up and her fingers tangle in your hair. Her kisses are growing hungrier for you. You can’t get enough of her either so your hands wander over her body. One of your hands grips her upper thigh and she moans into your mouth. 

Ellie pulls away from you and smirks before laying you on your back with great care. Her tenderness continues to surprise you, so you expect her to continue kissing you roughly. 

Instead, she takes a moment to look over you with her dazzling green eyes. “You are… so beautiful.”

You don’t want to ruin the moment, but you can’t help but ask “is that why you bothered me, like a little kid does when they have a crush?”

Ellie’s soft disposition doesn’t falter, even for a moment. “I guess so. Never seen a girl like you in real life before. Had no idea what to do.”

Your breath hitches. This steamy encounter and that’s what gets you? Just goes to show how you had truly misjudged Ellie Williams. 

“I… uh…” you are really at a loss for words.

Ellie leans in, her lips almost touch your ear. You can feel her warm breath when she whispers “you don’t have to say anything pretty girl.” She starts placing soft kisses on your neck and you moan a little. You feel her chuckle against your skin, clearly pleased with herself. 

After leaving you wanting more, Ellie’s face hovers over yours and she tilts your head up by your chin and places one, seemingly shy, kiss on your lips before sitting back on her knees.

“We should stop.” Ellie sighs.

“Why?” You question, longing for more of her.

“I want to do this the right way. I respect you too much not to. I want to take you out on a date. Get to know you. I want you to know the real me. I’m really hoping something could happen between us, I don’t want to jeopardize that. That is if you are willing to give me, us, a chance.”

You sit up and cup her cheek in your hand. “Alright Williams. I’ll go home now, and you can come to my place tomorrow at 7 and pick me up for our first date.”

Ellie giggles, something you didn’t think you’d ever see her do. “Promise this will be the best date of your life.”

#ellie williams x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x fem reader #the last of us ellie #tlou ellie #ellie x you

[celluloidbroomcloset]

OK, but ignoring the whole weird Stizzy thing for a minute, let’s discuss that little arc with the training montage.

Because of course we see Izzy failing utterly at training Stede, and we see confirmation that Stede is not good at that kind of physical action: we see him unable to throw a punch, unable to hit a target, unable to swing on a rope. There’s no buildup cuts where he gets gradually better at it (as there usually is in training montages) and we never see anything that implies that Izzy helped him get better (not least because there’s no point later on where we SEE him being better). But we do hear Stede say that “his body takes over” when he gets into the midst of action, and he points out that he did indeed defeat Izzy in a duel.

Later, we see Stede defend himself—he punches the guy who attacks him from the wardrobe before Izzy can even get his sword out. He turns and fires the gun in the air before any of the more experienced pirates can move to defend him. He does, in fact, respond quickly and effectively in the heat of battle. Which he has always done—he draws a knife on Izzy the first time they meet. Doug grabs his shoulder and he moves to defend himself.

At no point do we see that Stede’s technical skills have particularly improved—he tries the same moves with Zheng that he did in the first duel with Izzy and he loses to her. He gets his sword stuck in a guy’s stomach. But what we do see, and have seen, consistently through both seasons, is Stede’s ability to survive. He’s not predictable, he’s not technically skilled, and he NEVER learns those skills with any degree of proficiency. But he is very adept at survival. He uses his unpredictability to his advantage and he makes it out alive. Not only that, his intuition and inventiveness help OTHER people to survive.

Stede didn’t win the duel with Izzy on a technicality; he won according to the rules while at the same time ignoring all the rules of dueling (he doesn’t know them!). He doesn’t survive in spite of his lack of technical skills; he survives because of that. And there’s no such thing as surviving on a technicality—you’re either alive or you’re dead, and Stede’s alive.

Which is exactly what Ed says to him when they first meet: “Most of the pirates I know? They’re dead. So you’re doing a lot better than them.”

#OFMD #our flag means death #stede bonnet #Izzy hands #ofmd meta #gif

[t1gerlilly]

I’ve seen a number of posts dismissing discussions of racism in the new storyline out of hand. To the point where I have no idea what the original criticisms were. And I think that’s really unfortunate. Partly because it feels like there’s a part of our community we’re not listening to and partly because I have some questions on the subject and would really like to hear what people are saying about it, but I’m clearly not following the right people.

I think folks forget how important Eddie is as Hispanic rep. Although 25% of the US population is Hispanic, only 3.3% of lead roles in TV are played by Hispanic actors (source) They’re also only 1.6% of showrunners and 1.9% of directors. And they are also under 5% of executive or management roles in media (source). So there is clearly a systemic problem.

But how does that apply to 911? Well - Carlos on lone star is notorious for having the least screen time of any character, despite the fact that his character is the closest to Athena in terms of role. And Eddie? Well, the latest I could find was season five totals - and Eddie and Chim, the non-white or black men, were bottom of the barrel. To really establish a pattern, you’d want more than two shows, but at least across half a decade of shows, the pattern is pretty consistent. I’m not making an argument about the reasons for that, but those are just the numbers. If I were to speculate, I’d assume it was a combination of who the network exec, showrunner, and executive producer was, since they have the power to make decisions. Just coincidentally, their racial identities mirror the screen time of the characters? Hmmmm

So then let’s look at who does press for the show - making themselves more visible…yeah, that’s largely Oliver. And you can say that’s because he’s a POV character- but you might be surprised to learn that in many seasons either Hen or Athena had more screen time than Buck. Yeah. Really. But you NEVER see Aisha put out to do press the way that Oliver is.

Why is that? Is it because she’s a black woman? Because she plays a queer character? And who is making that decision and why? Because that lack of visibility impacts her personal career. Same thing with Ryan Guzman and Kenneth Choi, who both have less screen time AND less press.

But in particular- and this is the rub - Ryan has CLEARLY been making intentional acting choices FOR YEARS to shape his character and his dynamic with Buck as queer. Oliver played into them, thinking of them as natural chemistry- but it’s clear that other creators on the show - notably the directors and writers, picked up on Ryan’s choices and fan reactions to reframe the dynamics and the characters.

And it’s really clear that Tim originally intended to have Eddie come out, but the poor reaction to Natalia and the fact that the actress was unavailable led him to switch the storyline to Buck. All of which is perfectly understandable.

But if there’s one person most responsible for the reason we ultimately got bi!Buck, it’s Ryan Guzman - for the bravery and perseverance of his choices as an artist. It’s amazing to me that in all the praise for Oliver saying that he “would have” leaned into Buck as queer even without the go ahead…no one has thought to praise the actor who actually DID THAT - for YEARS- when he was in a much more precarious position as a character and an actor. Like really take a minute to look at what that took…he was risking his livelihood with that choice.

And then, when the show DOES finally make it canon…who gets the praise? The buzz? The support? The white guy who was mostly oblivious for the past five years. Like…how is THAT fair?

And OK, the original plan was for the helicopter pilot to be Lucy, and that fell through so they reached out to Lou, because Tommy was a former character- but also quite likely because he looks a good deal like Buck - and the SL was supposed to have that character be a stand-in for the other half of Buddie. When they switched to Buck, they had to make Tommy have similar hobbies to Eddie to establish the similarities, since they couldn’t rely on looks.

But that meant they totally whitewashed the story line. And if you want to talk about firsts - when has a Hispanic lead come out as gay or bi? And how many of them were men? And how many were over 21? And on a mainstream show?

And no, it wasn’t intentional (just a function of having so many more white characters than Hispanic characters), but it was unfortunate. Not to mention the intersectionality of it all.

So…I honestly think there’s a decent basis for critique there. Not a “these people are terrible” critique, but a “not paying attention to diversity systemically” in a way that lets unconscious bias have the same impact as deliberate bias.

And I really wonder at the people who just dismissed the entire discussion - how hard did you listen? How willing were you to hear what people were saying? Because this is an issue that has to do with real people, their careers, their hopes, dreams, and identities. And you should be willing to listen.

#911 abc #eddie diaz #ryan guzman #911 discourse #911

[mochirizu]

A collection of WK headcanons because I can

MARTIN - 28, 5'10, he/him, December 23rd

BIGGEST heart on the team. Sees good in everybody

He's like if someone gave a golden retriever a human suit.

BANNED from the kitchen he CANNOT COOK at his ancient self

He pulls the 'big brother card' a LOT

He LOVES to sing, but nobody has the heart to tell him he sucks so they just...let him

He loves so easily

Martin makes the stupidest dad jokes

He labels his things with a blue sticker so he can keep his stuff organized... he still loses things

He taught himself Mandarin Chinese out of sheer boredom; he is now almost fluent

He needs people to like him or he will DIE

Do not give him coffee; he will be insane and hyperactive and then go awol for the rest of the day

CHRIS - 24, 5'8, he/him, July 19th(Gemini)

Burned-out gifted kid? Yes

His experiments normally consist of him using Martin as his guinea pig for payback for all the jokes he got pulled on as a kid

Loves cinnamon-flavoured anything

He also has a pretty high spice tolerance

Used to be friends with Zach in preschool, but it stopped not long after that

He climbs trees because he's a sensory seeker.

Chris is an avid tea drinker

He is also the best dancer on the team

Chris was such a geek in high school, he didn't 'glow up' until he was 17

Since the Tazzy incident, Chris occasionally has cravings for raw meat but chalks it up to low-iron

The only one on the team with a consistent sleep schedule

AVIVA -26, 5'5, she/her, April 5th(Aries)

Her dad raised her to be tough and strong, therefore making her a perfectionist and a maniac lol

Aviva loves Hot chocolate with Marshmallows, and watching nostalgic cartoons

She has a nasty habit of comparing herself to others and gets ridiculously insecure when anyone challenges her opinion. She masks it by being defensive and doubling down

Beautiful by default(duh) but she doesn't see it

She has a nasty older brother who was the stem of all her insecurities

She found a grey hair once and cried

She was cheer captain in high school, hence her athleticism

Aviva is messy as hell. Like, more messy than Martin.

She also dislikes mud

The worst dancer on the crew(I'm sorry), but she's the most talented singer

NEVER lets her hair down, it gets in the way too much.

KOKI - 27, 5'4, she/they, Feburary 13th(Aquarius)

Raised by a single dad(parents divorced)

Grew up basically rich, but was kept humble

Koki's uncle taught her mechanics before he passed away when she was in middle school

She had a pet canary named Booboo

She has pent-up anger issues

LOVES Zytago music as her family comes from New Orleans

She 100% has muscles and biceps. Martin is jealous

"No, I'm not gay. Everyone wants to kiss their girlfriends at some point....right?"

When it comes to cooking, she's Jimmy's sous-chef

HATES being in tight or confined spaces

Wants to style her hair in something else other than a single puff, but always gets busy before she can book an appointment with a stylist

JIMMY - 25, 5'9, he/they/doesn't care, August 20th(Leo)

Had a very normal childhood. Like, eerily normal.

Has a younger brother and an older sister and they are ALL GINGER.

Everyone in his family is a Ginge except for his mom

Jimmy can speak nearly fluent Korean because he took a gap year in South Korea after High School.

He studied software engineering but dropped out to attend culinary school instead

He is the COOKING MASTER EVER

His family is secretly wealthy as FUCK

He has his own power suit, just never uses it

Had an emo phase

Jimmy's full name is James Coleman Benedict Zeigler

Grandma Jimmena has a bunch of random stories from her childhood and they are all UNHINGED

#wild kratts #martin kratt #chris kratt #aviva corcovado #jimmy z #koki #wild kratts aviva #wild kratts martin #wild kratts chris #wild kratts koki #wild kratts jimmy z #wild kratts fandom #wild kratts headcanon

[snowcloudie]

sweet venom - n. riki

; PAIRING - Nishimura Riki x OC

; SYNOPSIS - When two unlikely people meet under several unlikely circumstances. Haerin is your average girl-next-door while Riki’s reputation is built upon misunderstandings. Will they be able to break away from the stereotypes forced on them, or will they run away from reality?

; TAGS - Riki is kinda rude, oc is kind of a prude, High school AU, strangers to friends to enemies to lovers.

; WORD COUNT - 2.2k

; WARNINGS - Mature Language

; STATUS - ongoing

╰┈➤ ❝ part 2 ｡･ﾟﾟ･

should’ve stayed in bed

“It’s almost 9PM Haerin, we’re so late,” Eunji said as she applied another coat of dark red lipstick.

Haerin, who was still choosing between the two dresses laid out in front of her, ignored her friend and hummed along to the music blasting in the room.

“Do you think Heeseung will be at the party?” Her mind wandered off.

Her friend, slowly losing her patience, rolled her eyes “At this rate we’ll never know because the party’s going to end before you pick a fucking dress. Come on Haerin, they look the exact same”.

The girl gasped at her friend’s language, “The white would make me stand out more but the cream looks better on me”.

Her friend groaned for what seemed to be the millionth time that night, “Just go with the cream, he’s not gonna notice you just because your dress is white”

Haerin pouted but finally started changing into the dress.

An average Saturday night for the two girls was a stark contrast to the current scenario. They’re the type to spend their weekends studying or solving puzzles.

But as they’ve now entered their junior year of high school, Eunji suggested that they spice things up a bit. And so instead they’re dressed and ready to dance the night away.

Of course, It did come with its own risks.

“Okay let’s go over the plan once more, we’re gonna stick together and we can only have two drinks max”.

Their parents obviously didn’t know that they were going to a party, especially one with drinks involved. If they ever found out, Haerin knew there would be bars on her windows.

As such, they prepared the necessary arrangements consisting of stuffing all of Haerin’s stuffed toys under the covers to act as themselves (just in case her parents came to check) as well as placing a ladder right by her window. How they were gonna bear to climb up and down with heels, only god knows.

After half an hour and a million complaints by Eunji, they finally arrived at the venue.

“Are you ready?” Her friend asked as they both continued staring at the door in nervousness.

Hand in hand, they finally made their way inside and were immediately met with the sweatiest air one could breathe. “Oh god I need a gas mask” Haerin scrunched up her nose as she scanned the room.

The house was huge and probably looked gorgeous on an average day. But right now all she could see were a bunch of teenagers drinking to no end and grinding on each other in the name of dancing.

The atmosphere was claustrophobic. And loud. They could hear the music from blocks away.

Haerin was so busy being disgusted that she didn’t even notice the person that had approached the two girls.

“Haerin! Eunji! I’m so glad you guys came!” exclaimed the brunette before placing his arms around both of their shoulders, unknowingly breaking apart the hold they had on each other.

Haerin flinched but recognised the boy quick enough, “Hi Sunoo” She smiled and Eunji sent a greeting as well.

“I didn’t think you two would actually make it, as a reward i’ll let you join us upstairs,” Sunoo winked.

“Oh there’s a VIP situation? So elitist” Eunji teased.

“Are you complaining? You can stay with this bunch if it suits you,” He retorted.

Eunji made a zipping motion to her mouth as Sunoo led them through the large mansion.

The room was large and reeked of luxury just like everywhere else in the house. It was like a home arcade, with a huge TV and seating area on one end and a game bar on the other consisting of a pool table and even a pac man machine among others.

Finally landing on the people spread across the seating area she noticed him. Lee Heeseung.

The school president and captain of the basketball team, and her senior by two years. He’s got all the qualities that have the majority of the female population at their school crushing on him, Haerin being no different, only she manages to be low-key about it.

Eunji noticed the heart eyes her friend was shooting and giggled, “Act normal, loser”.

Sunoo signalled for them to take a seat with the rest of the group. Haerin peeled her eyes away from Heeseung and took notice of the other people in the room, no one she recognised but it was definitely less claustrophobic and way more sanitary than the situation downstairs. It’s a good thing Eunji is friends with Sunoo.

Her friend went around greeting people in the room while Haerin only gave a polite smile anytime she made eye contact with someone. Eunji’s extroverted nature is enough for both of them.

“Ah! I know you! Mr. Kim’s class, right?” said a boy with the biggest eyes Haerin had ever seen.

Unable to recognise him, yet not wanting to seem rude she bluffed, “Oh yes, I remember your eyes, can’t say the same about your name though?”.

The boy chucked. “Yang Jungwon, your paintings are so good they deserve to be in a museum”.

Haerin shook her head, “not at all”.

“Are you two familiar with everyone else here?” Sunoo asked.

Eunji replied, “I know everyone, can’t say the same for Haerin”.

Jungwon smiled at the girl. “She noticed my eyes though''. She smiled back, the blush growing deeper.

“Stop harassing girls Jungwon,” A boy sitting in the corner spoke who Haerin hadn’t even noticed. And she thought she was invisible.

He was dressed as if he gets professionally styled like an Idol, Haerin noted as she analysed his all black outfit consisting of a jacket, turtleneck and trousers. His fingers were littered with rings and his ears with piercings.

Eunji nudged her once again, “You have got to stop staring at people weirdly” she whisper-yelled.

“-So then I told her that dress was doing way more for her ass than she thought”. Two hours into the party, Haerin had gotten to know the people in the room a little bit better.

Sunoo was a huge gossip and Haerin would not trust him to keep a secret, although she did enjoy listening to stories about people she didn’t even know the faces of. The few girls present shared a few classes with her as well. She ended up finding a lot in common with Jungwon and most of her night was spent chatting with him.

However, she soon found her social battery running low and left the room to catch some air. She went downstairs to the bar, the girl didn’t care for the two-drinks-only rule because she wasn't interested in alcohol anyway, opting to order a coke. She made her way to a corner in the lawn where only a couple other people were scattered around.

Taking a sip, she sighed. “What are you doing here,” She whispered to herself.

“Nothing much”.

Haerin jumped up in shock, almost spilling her drink. “gosh, you scared me”.

The boy didn’t say anything and only stared at her. Feeling intimidated by his gaze, she tried to start a conversation. “Sorry, I was speaking to myself. Oh wait, you were with us upstairs”.

Haerin flashed him an awkward smile and introduced herself, “I’m Haerin”.

He mumbled something which the girl failed to hear. (“I know”)

“Pepsi?,” He asked. Haerin couldn’t tell what the questioning tone meant however.

“Um yeah, I’m only allowed homemade juice or water at home so I thought I’d take the opportunity and try some pepsi,” She explained.

The girl noticed the faintest smile on the boy’s face.

“cute,” He said, randomly.

Haerin’s eyes widened and her face erupted in a blush once again. However, even more confusing was that he shared the same reaction. Did he blurt it out accidentally? Did I mishear?

They broke their eye contact as the boy walked away quickly, leaving her feeling a little confused and very flustered.

“I still don’t get the hype around parties, Eunji,” Haerin chatted with her best friend as they walked through the halls to their first lesson. “I mean, It’s just a bunch of sweaty kids dancing and drinking. And if they’re not doing that, they’re just talking which you can do anywhere else at any other time and in much more sanitary ways”.

The pair’s escapade had been a success as they managed to make their way back to Haerin’s house with their absence going completely unnoticed by her parents. Eunji had enjoyed her night to the fullest and had even joined the crowd downstairs at some point.

“You’re just grumpy because you dressed up all pretty for Heeseung and he didn’t look at you once,” Eunji remarked.

Haerin scoffed and put a hand to her chest, “I am not. It’s just a stupid crush, I’ll get over it in no time”.

“Stupid crushes don’t last for years,” Her friend teased.

Haerin only rolled her eyes and sat down at their regular seat. Front row, centre desk.

However, she noticed Eunji hesitating to sit down beside her as they usually do. She followed her best friend’s gaze and noticed a few girls she recognised from yesterday’s party signalling her over.

Haerin bit her lip, “You can go sit with them if you want”.

“But-”.

“-I’ll be okay! besides Mr. Lee is so strict we wouldn’t even be able to look at each other”, She smiled.

Eunji smiled back and gave her a small hug before hurrying over to her new friends.

The teacher entered the room not long after and started his lecture. Not even five minutes into the class, a familiar face barged into the door. the boy from last night.

“Late again Nishimura,” Mr. Lee sighed, “Hurry up and take your seat”.

Haerin allowed her eyes to follow him as he made his way to the back. Looking in the direction she also realised there were a lot of people she interacted with at the party present in her class than she thought…is she really that unaware of her surroundings?

She also noticed Eunji laughing quietly with a girl and felt a hint of sadness before brushing away the thought. Haerin knew that Eunji gave up a lot in order to cater to her comfort.

It’s no surprise that going to the party had given Eunji the chance to branch out and make more friends, and it’s only natural that she’d want to hang out with them. Haerin scolded herself, I should be happy for her.

“Not there Nishimura,” Mr. Lee’s voice cut through her thoughts as the man stopped him from walking over to his usual seat in the back corner. “You’ll be sitting in front, next to Haerin”.

“Hopefully she will have a good influence on you,” He added as the boy sat down without any refusal. “I’d also like to see both of you after class”.

The hour went by like a breeze for Haerin. She wasn’t too worried about what Mr.Lee had to say to them, her straight A record spoke for itself.

She had already been through the topics for all of her lessons the day before so she finished the assigned work for the day’s class quickly. The same could not be said for the boy beside her.

At one point she noticed that he had been stuck on the same question for a few minutes and leaned over to help him. “Read this paragraph right here,” she pointed at the page on his book, “you’ll find it easier to understand. I can still explain if you want”.

Riki only nodded, but ended up solving all the questions soon which made Haerin feel happy with herself.

Currently, the pair were standing in front of the teacher’s desk, waiting for everyone to exit the classroom.

“Haerin, would you be willing to tutor Nishimura for a couple of months?” Mr. Lee asked.

Both Haerin and Riki seemed surprised at the request. “I’ll relieve you of the cleanup duties and give you extra credit for the tutoring instead”. Mr. Lee pushed his glasses up his nose, “Riki, your grades have been dangerously low for a while, Haerin’s name stays at the top of the scoreboard consistently. This would be a beneficial opportunity for both of you”.

Even if the perks weren’t provided, Haerin would still have accepted the job being the teacher’s pet she is. “I’m okay with it if…Riki is”, the name unfamiliar on her tongue.

The boy nodded, silent as usual. His reserved vibe made Haerin feel like she speaks too much.

They finally made their way out of the class. Haerin sighed as she noticed that Eunji had already left for their lunch break. Well, I shouldn’t be making her wait anyway.

“So when and where”.

Haerin flinched slightly, surprised that Riki had spoken. “Huh?”.

“The classes,” He raised his eyebrow.

The girl cleared her throat, “Right, we can do it an hour after school everyday, get the syllabus over with quickly”.

Riki nodded in agreement, “And where do we meet? Your place?”.

Haerin immediately declined, “No, sorry, we won’t be able to do it at my place”.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion but he didn’t question it. “So my place then?”.

Haerin had never been to another boy's house. Other than for the party of course. She prayed she wasn’t blushing and said, “Or the library, let’s go to the library”.

#enhypen #enhypen niki #niki x reader #niki #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #nishimura riki #fanfic #kpop imagines #kpop

[greybrickwallpaper]

BELLS HELLS SPOILERS!!! MIGHTY NEIN SPOILERS WARNING!!!

Ok so I’m feeling a lot of feelings about the reaction of bells hells to FCG’s sacrifice and the way that one reaction stood out the most and that’s Orym’s. Don’t get me wrong I like orym and his story and I understand there is a serious level of trauma associated for him to be anywhere near members of the vanguard but he does seem to be the only one so blinded by his own selfishness that he can’t seem to help the hells progress.

Just as the hells were about to get some information from lillianna about ludinus and were about to convince her to come with, orym nearly wrecked it all with his inability to keep himself out of the centre of the argument. All of bells hells has suffered in one way or another relating to ludinus or the gods but orym is the only one who is consistent in his selfishness. Take laudna for example every time the hells go back to Whitestone she knows what kind of mental toll it has on her and she’s never quite sure if it won’t be the time Delilah takes over but she never outright says no I’m not doing this because she understands the impact what is happening has on the rest of exandria. She is selfless where orym is selfish. Then there is Imogen who may finally get some answers from her mother that she has waited for essentially her whole life and when orym almost ruins it her first response is to find and comfort him and reassure him that she would give up the potential relationship with her mother.

Even Ashton who has had his moments can see that even though they are all traumatised there is something bigger at play in that they need all the information they can get. Seriously though what do the hells owe to the gods, not a right lot.

It also reminds me of Yasha’s story in the M9 and her desire to find Zuala’s grave. The M9 told Yasha on several occasions that they would go with her to Xhorhas and help her take revenge over the Dolorov for Zuala’s death but every time Yasha insists that while she would love to do that it’s not worth it the bloodshed is not worth it. Her whole story with the storm lord helps her come to terms with the fact that her guilt can be channelled in to the protection of the M9 so that is what she does. Yasha never tries to make the M9 fold to her trauma she works on it with them by her side.

Orym and yasha’s grief are almost the same, the lost their partners and their family in one terrible situation and while the situations differ the outcome is essentially the same leaving them both wracked with guilt and shame at not being able to do more.

Like I said I love the hells and their story how broken people can work together I just was struck by the way these two characters portray the grief so differently and the way that the hells would bend earth for orym and he would let them and like wise the Nein for Yasha but she never would.

#orym of the air ashari #yasha nydoorin #bells hells #the mighty nein #cr spoilers #episode 91 and 92 c3 spoilers #imogen temult #laudna

[clementine-writes-things]

"Run Rabbit, Run!" pt.2 - E.N

Summary: After getting sent to Arkham, Edward requests to see Y/n Wayne. The visit is not what y/n expected at all...(this might not be entirely consistent with the first part, but just ignore those parts pls. I have exams soon so I'm balancing writing and college and running on like 5 hours of sleep each day 😭 I'm still rlly proud of this tho <3 I hope u like it)

Pt.1 here pt.3 here

Content Warning: 18+, explicit language, AFAB!Reader, she/her pronouns, egotistical!Edward, stalker!Edward, yandere!Edward, brief mention of suicide, mentions of rough sex, EXTREMELY graphic descriptions of sexual intercourse, sexual content, dirty talk, daddy issues, daddy kink, praising, degrading, choking, slapping, edward referring to himself as a fox and y/n a rabbit, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, mentions of guns, mentions of torture. (Edward is a freak in this. This is kinda like joker/harley dynamic except there is no abuse, it's just that Edward is so fucking charming that y/n is OBSESSED with him.)

Word Count: 7k+

Songs For Inspo:

YOU'RE TOO SLOW (Bonus) - Odetari

Freak Show - Punkinloveee, h3artcrush

I LOVE YOU HOE (W/ 9lives) -Odetari

She' So Nice - Pink Guy

Custer - Slipknot

~Read Below Cut~

Y/n sat on her bed, head in her hands as she wept. Bruce put a hand on her back, rubbing comforting circles. It was a huge blow to her gut. She had fallen in love with Edward over the months they had been friends. The two of them had gotten so close. And now, she had found out that he was The Riddler. The real humiliating part? It was right under her nose. Though she had suspicions, she never wanted to believe them, so she ignored every red flag she saw.

"I'm really sorry." Bruce said.

"Bruce, is it bad that I still care about him?" She asked, tears forming in her eyes.

He sighed.

"No, I don't think so. He was your friend."

She nodded, wiping away the tears that spilled down her cheeks. Bruce frowned, pulling her in for a hug. After the whole incident happened, Bruce immediately went to y/n's apartment, outside of his armor of course. He knew she lived nearby and he wanted to make sure his sister was ok. Y/n had told him about the man she met in a bookstore, and from what she had shared with him, he was a good person. But, he should know better than anyone how easily one can hide their true self.

"I'm surprised he didn't try and hurt you. You're a Wayne and it seems like he has a grudge against our family."

"He has every right to hold a grudge against us!"

Bruce pulled away from the hug, confusion on his face. Y/n sighed, standing up and going to her nightstand. She opened it up and pulled out a file. Tossing it to Bruce, she crossed her arms over her chest. Inside was pictures of the old orphanage that was once Wayne Manor. Pictures of the living conditions, children, and even Edward were in there. Y/n had done some serious digging to get this information, though, it was easy if you were a Wayne of course.

"He lived in the orphanage, Bruce. His entire life. Our dad offered him a better life, told him that he could work for W.I."

"He did?" He asked, looking through the pictures.

"Yes, he did. Edward, he applied so many times to the Renewal project. But...dad and mom..." She trailed.

Bruce looked up at her, feeling his heart sink.

"...well, you and I were too young to take charge of anything. So, he was left to rot in that prison. He told me about the things he experienced there, Bruce. It haunts me that Wayne Enterprises let children suffer. We could have easily helped those poor children." She sniffled, holding back tears.

"Jesus."

"You think we're sad orphans, Bruce? Look at those pictures. Look at how they lived..."

He did. He saw all of it. The rats. The horrible beds that they had to sleep in, if they even could. Bruce felt cold just looking at the pictures. He winced as he saw one picture of a child, bite marks on their hands and fingers.

"When I was older, I found out about this. That's why I live out here, Bruce. I want to live like everyone else does. I donate to the orphanages, I do check ups to make sure everything is good, I donate to hospitals, I do volunteering. But, it was Edward who showed me how truly terrible this city is. Yes, he murdered people...but they were bad people Bruce. You know this. That's why he didn't go after me..."

"It sounds like you're defending his actions..." He raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not! I'm just...he's not a bad person, Bruce. Sick in the head, sure. I'm just worried about him..." She mumbled.

"Y/n, he murdered people."

"And you go around beating people up in a bat costume! Maybe you belong in Arkham too." She spat.

"I don't kill people."

"Well, maybe if you did this city would be safer!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I-..I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm just shaken up. Frankly, I could give a shit about the people he killed, they were all scum. I'm just worried about Edward."

"Well, he's in Arkham, he's safe there. He can't hurt anyone and he can't hurt himself."

"I guess...not the most humane place though."

Y/n's phone rang, making both of them fall silent. Who could be calling this late at night? It had been an hour since Edward was apprehended, making it 1 A.M. She looked at Bruce before answering the phone.

"This is Y/n Wayne, who is this?"

'Ms. Wayne, this is Cap-...Commissioner Gordon.'

"Commissioner Gordon! Um, what's the matter?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow.

'It's 'The Riddler'. He's asked to see you in Arkham.'

"Oh, um...ok, I'll be there."

Y/n hung up the phone.

"It's Edward. He's requested to see me..."

"And you're going?" He asked.

"Well, of course I am. I need an explanation, some closure. He's still my friend, Bruce."

He sighed.

"I'm surprised he hasn't asked to see me. He seemed so obsessed with gaining my attention. Um, you're not going to tell him that I'm..."

"No, Bruce. I'm not an idiot. Can you drive me to Arkham, please? It'd be nice to have you there."

"Yeah, that's ok..."

~

When the Wayne siblings arrived, everyone practically worshipped them. Offering to open doors, constantly saying 'Ms. Wayne' and 'Mr. Wayne'. It annoyed the both of them a lot, though Bruce was the one who could hide the annoyance. Y/n, however, could not. Yes, she loved her family, but she didn't want to be seen as simply 'the Wayne daughter'. It put her on a high pedestal that she hated being on.

"Fuck, there he is." She mumbled, looking at him through the one way window.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes. Um, I know there is camera in the room, but do they pick up audio too? I'd prefer for our conversation to be private."

Bruce looked at the security officer.

"Oh, um, no ma'am they do not pick up sound. They only serve as surveillance to make sure an inmate doesn't try and do something they shouldn't. Sometimes we hold therapy sessions in here too, so, legally we can't record sound."

"Ok, thank you. Alright, I'm going in."

"I love you, little sis."

"I love you too, big brother."

Y/n took a deep breath as she opened the door. Edward's gaze landed on her immediately, causing her to feel small. Yes, y/n had always been slightly intimidated by Edward, but even more so now. He did not look like a person who was capable of violence, and yet he murdered multiple people. It was startling. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she sat down in the chair on the other side of the glass.

"Mmm, I knew you'd come..." He hummed.

"You're still my friend, Edward. I care about you."

He chuckled, deciding he'd circle back to that topic later. Tilting his head to the side, he raised his hands up slowly so the guard didn't get jumpy. Edward pointed at the thing in their hands.

"What's that?" He asked.

Y/n opened up the slot underneath the glass. She slid the item into the box, closing the lid. It fell to Edward's side, and he picked it up. A small smile formed on his lips. It was y/n's copy of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'. Y/n watched as he flipped through the pages, immediately feeling himself grow warm with happiness.

"I was going to bring you a blanket, but they said that it was a safety hazard. They said you could hang yourself with it." She grumbled.

"Well, this is still a nice present."

It fell silent in the visiting room. The only sound was the flipping of the pages as Edward skimmed through the book. He looked so nonchalant, as if he didn't just snipe Falcone less than 2 hours ago. Though, to be fair, his death wasn't that distressing. Y/n was just startled by how calm he was, especially with where he was.

"Edward, why did you call me here?"

"Hm, I'm not entirely sure...I suppose I just wanted to see my 'friend' again." He smiled innocently.

Y/n huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. Edward smirked, humming to himself like he usually did. His fingers rapped against the book, creating small tap sounds. Eventually, y/n just rolled her eyes.

"Look, if you aren't going to talk to me then I'll just go."

"Oh, you will? Ok then, go ahead."

Y/n looked at him, cheeks tinted slightly pink. He had that smug grin on his face, y/n had seen it a lot. Edward had that look when he won a game they were playing or if he stumped y/n on a riddle. But, this time it was more sinister. It sent chills down her spine and she stayed put in the chair. Edward chuckled, nodding his head slowly. He didn't have to say anything, they both knew he called her out on her bluff. Sighing, he looked at her with kind eyes, but his tone of voice was the complete opposite. He was so good at pretending to be something he was not.

"Y/n Wayne, you knew who I was for a while. Why didn't you say anything?" He questioned.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about, Edward."

"Hm, so you never saw the mask in my pocket that one night? You never saw the tiny dots of blood on my face ? The riddles never raised a red flag?" He asked, continuing to flip through the book.

Y/n was silent, looking down at her hands shamefully. Edward tutted, shaking his head. Coolly, he read a small part of the page he was on before looking back up at y/n. She nodded, admitting that she saw them all.

"Uh huh, so why didn't you say anything? I'm dying to know the answer..."

"I-It was because you were my...friend, Edward. I was conflicted."

He kept his face neutral as he looked at her.

"Mmm, there's that word again. Friend. I know you're lying about your answer, so I'll make a deal with you. I'll tell you a secret I've been keeping for a while, and you in return will give me an honest answer. Sound fair?" He asked.

Before she could answer, he started to talk again.

"I've been stalking you for months, y/n. Long before I 'met' you in that bookstore. Did you know that?" He giggled.

"What?"

"Did you really think I just happened to show up in your favorite bookstore? That I just happened to live directly across from you? I know everything about you, y/n. I've been watching you. Studying you. Like a predator stalks their prey."

"You're fucking with me, Edward. That's not funny." She scolded.

"Oh, I don't think it's funny either. I'm being very serious, y/n. Now, why don't you tell me the truth about why you never ratted me out?"

"What the fuck..." She mumbled.

"Well? I'm waiting for an answer."

She was taken aback by his secret, but it made sense the more she thought about it. Of course he had stalked her. She was just too fucking stupid to see it. The thought of Edward stalking her for months before they met scared the shit out of her. But, at the same time, it excited her.

"Y-You're a creep! I trusted you! I lov-..." She trailed.

"Aha, there's the answer I was looking for! Go on, say it." He cackled.

She sighed, looking at her hands again.

"I loved you, Edward. That's why I never said anything."

"Loved? Oh no, you still love me y/n. I know you do. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here."

"I do not love you! You're a psycho, a creep, and a murderer!" She spat.

"You knew all of those things before, yet you still were 'friends' with me. Isn't that right?" Edward smirked.

"W-"

"And don't act like you hate the idea of me stalking you. I know who you are, y/n. You're so easy to read."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about..."

Edward sighed in annoyance, propping his forearms up on the metal ledge. He maintained his neutral facial expression as he looked at her. Y/n felt small under his gaze and he knew it. He knew he had power over her. He always would.

"Tell me, doesn't the thought of me watching you from my apartment excite you? Waiting all night for even the tiniest glimpse of you? I know how much you crave attention from others." Edward suavely said.

"I-I mean..."

"Oh, precious Y/n never got the attention she so desperately wanted growing up. No mommy and daddy to tell her 'I'm so proud of you, sweet girl!'. Isn't that right, rabbit?" He cooed.

Y/n felt a chill go down her spine. He was right. Fuck, he was good at reading people. Sniffling, y/n nodded her head. How the hell was he doing this to her?

"Oh, the poor thing. You have such a kind heart, always giving and giving and giving. When has anyone ever given you anything in return? When was the last time someone praised you?" He asked.

Y/n reached up, wiping a tear from her eye quickly.

"S-So long..."

"That just won't do, will it? No, I don't think it will."

She looked at him, lips quivering.

"You know who is proud of you? Eddie."

He watched as she smiled softly. Edward loved seeing her smile so much. If he could just capture a picture of it and keep it, he was sure he would never feel sadness ever again.

"Y-You are?" She sniffled.

"Of course I am, sweetheart. You make me so proud. There are so many things you're good at that deserve praise. Your art, your constant donations to charity, your kind heart, my oh my the list goes on!" He chuckled.

Y/n was blushing like a school girl. To be completely honest, she didn't care that Edward had stalked her. Sure, it was a little jarring, but he was the first person to show her genuine love in a long time. Y/n was head over heels for him and there was nothing she could do about it. The heart wants what it wants after all.

"Oh, there's that beautiful smile. Such a pretty girl. But, y/n, I do have one thing I'm not proud of at all."

"W-What dad-...Edward?"

He smiled to himself at her near 'slip up'. If she had called him it, he wouldn't have minded at all. Actually, he would have loved it...

"You see, you lie to me a lot. You think I never notice, but I do."

"I-I'm sorry..."

"Do not apologize, y/n. All will be forgiven if you just tell me the truth about one thing."

"O-Ok!"

"That's my girl, now, the 'bad dream' you had earlier. I believe you didn't tell me the full story. Why don't you tell Eddie alllll about it?" He grinned.

"O-Oh...um, I-..." She trailed.

"You can tell me anything, rabbit. I'll keep it as a secret."

Swallowing a lump in her throat, she nodded softly. Edward kept his gaze on her. It was a good thing that the cameras didn't record audio, because he knew what was coming. Yes, he already knew what the dream centered around, but he wanted to hear her say it. He wanted to hear the filthy words leave her mouth.

"W-Well, I was honest about dreaming that you were the Riddler..."

"And you were right! You're so smart." He praised.

Y/n should have felt disgusted at how light hearted he was, but she wasn't. It was upsetting how in love she was with him. She was y/n Wayne and she was in love with The Riddler. But, the shame behind that brought excitement. It was a secret between the two of them, a forbidden love. Just like Romeo & Juliet.

"...but you um, you were frightening. A-And, I um...liked it." She mumbled.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Can you elaborate?"

"I th-thought it was hot...that you um, were making me scared. Um, you were being really um...rough." She stuttered.

Edward felt his dick slowly getting hard. He cursed the glass in his head and the cameras. If he could he'd reach right across and give y/n something to dream about for years to come. Groaning softly, he nodded his head. He wasn't going to be vague anymore. He was going to be blunt.

"Did I fuck you?"

"I-..no. I w-woke up before anything like that happened." She admitted.

"Mmm, so you got all worked up over a dream I didn't even fuck you in? You must have really loved what I was saying and doing in it, huh?" He teased.

"Yeah. I-I did."

"You say we're friends, y/n. But, do friends say they love each other in a romantic way? Do friends have wet dreams about each other?" He asked.

"N-No, they don't..."

"That's right. Mmm, I've had dreams of you too, rabbit. Filthy, filthy, dreams." Edward shivered.

Y/n shifted in her seat, arousal soaking through her panties. Edward could tell she was turned on. She couldn't keep still, thighs subtly rubbing together. He tutted and shook his head.

"Now, now, you better stop that. You don't want to get caught, do you? How embarrassing would that be to have your brother find out that The Riddler was making your pussy wet? I'd be mortified if I were you." He taunted.

She whimpered, ceasing the movement of her legs. Edward could see how much willpower it was taking her not to do it. Amused, he smiled and tilted his head. He was going to torment her, tease her until she was merely a puddle on the chair.

"Ever since I first saw you, I was fascinated. That fascination turned into love. And with most love, comes lust. And oh, my sweet rabbit, I have never wanted someone as badly as I want you."

"R-Really?"

"Believe me when I say that I want to ruin you, y/n."

Y/n whined, resisting the urge to dive her hands down her pants. Edward scoffed, resting his hands back in his lap. He grabbed his dick through his pants, adjusting it.

"I have much more to say, y/n. I suggest you do your best to keep your face neutral. But you can moan, just quietly. I would very much love to hear you moan. I've wondered what it might sound like."

She nodded, gaining her composure as much as she could. Sighing, Edward looked towards the ceiling. It looked as if he was collecting his thoughts. Y/n nearly trembled in anticipation.

"I've had so many dreams of you. Some of them are sweet. Those ones consist of us going on dates, maybe a park or a movie." He said.

"That sounds nice."

"It does, doesn't it?" He smiled.

"But the other ones, ohhh, they are filthy. They are so vulgar that I'm not sure I should let them fall upon your ears." He hummed playfully.

"N-No, I want to hear! Please daddy!" She blurted out, covering her mouth with her hand.

He smiled gently, his dick twitching underneath his pants. A soft groan left his lips. Edward was wishing a painful death the the guard watching their visit. He wished for the cameras to power down and for the glass to disappear.

"You sound just like you do in my dreams. I can't say no to how pathetic that sounded."

Y/n blushed, rubbing her thigh with her hand. It was out of view of the cameras and the window, so Edward allowed it.

"I've had dreams where you're on your knees, begging for me. You always look so desperate and needy every time. It's such a pitiful sight that I can't help but give you what you want. Do you know what you want in those dreams?" He asked flatly.

"W-What, da-" She paused.

"Oh rabbit, you can call me that if you'd like. It sounds so good rolling of your tongue..." Edward smirked.

"Ok, daddy...um, what do I want in your dreams?"

Leaning forward, he got closer to the glass. A cocky, toothy smile plastered over his face. His eyes were bright and happy, as if he was about to tell her a funny joke. Raising up his hands, slowly, he made a very subtle 'jerking' motion.

"To get fucked like a whore, obviously." He laughed.

Y/n whimpered. Her chest was tightening from how aroused she was. She took a deep breath, letting it out through pursed lips. Edward grinned, seeing how worked up he was making her.

"Oh, but you're not a whore. No, far from it. In my dreams I may fuck you like one, but you don't act like one. Once I'm done giving you a good dick down, you get so clingy. You're so dependent on me, never wanting to leave my side. It's so precious. I only hope that you're like that outside of my dreams too." He cooed.

"Y-Yes, I am! I-I'm here, after all. I missed you..."

"Oh, that's so sweet. I shoot and kill Carmine Falcone and the first thing you think of is 'I want Edward! Where's Eddie? I miss him so much!'. Is that right?"

"Well, not exactly."

"Hm?"

"I cried first..."

Edward felt a pang in his chest. It genuinely hurt his heart to hear her say that. He never wanted to make her cry, unless it was from pleasure.

"You poor thing, I never though about how you'd feel. I never wanted to make you cry, I just wanted to get rid of the scum that pollutes Gotham." He frowned.

"I know, I may not agree with the murdering...but I'm not saying I miss Falcone either. It just scared me. I was just worried about what would happen to you..."

"You were worried about me, rabbit? You don't need to do that. I can take care of myself, y/n." He smiled.

She nodded. Edward could tell that she felt sad. He did not want her to be sad, not at all.

"You know I love you, y/n. Right?" He asked.

"Y-Yes, I do."

"I did it all for you. I had different plans for Gotham before. I was going to do something far worse, but you made me change my mind. I just want you to live in a city where you can be safe."

Y/n smiled. It was a messed up way to show he loved and cared for her, but she hadn't been loved before. She didn't care anymore, she just was warmed that he wanted her to be safe. Even if he did it through murdering crooked and corrupt people. She blushed, looking down at her hands.

"No, no, don't hide your face. I want to see it." He asked softly.

She looked back up, faint pink dusted on the tip of her nose and her cheeks. Edward loved that about her so much. He thought it made her look so happy and gentle. He chuckled, clapping his hands together as much as he could with the handcuffs on.

"There she is, the prettiest thing in Gotham." He smiled.

"You're making me blush, Edward..." She mumbled.

"I know and I love it. I love watching you get flustered, it's so precious. If only I could touch you..." He sighed.

"Why do you want to touch me?" She asked.

"Well, I want to hold you and kiss you, y/n. That the first thing I want to do." Edward hummed.

"First? Wh-what are the other things?"

"The things I dream of, rabbit." He grinned.

"Tell me more about the dreams!" Y/n said.

He tutted, wagging his finger back and forth. Eyes were squinted as he disapprovingly frowned. He rested his forearms back on the metal ledge, smiling cockily.

"Now, that sounded like a demand. You aren't telling me to do something without asking nicely, are you?"

"N-No, I'm sorry! P-Please, tell me more Eddie." She corrected herself.

"That sounds much better."

He looked her up and down, sighing happily.

"Tell you more, hm? But there are so many dreams, so many fantasies. Though, one thing stays the same in every single one." Edward stated.

"What is that?" Y/n asked curiously.

He planted his hands on the cold surface, leaning towards the glass. His face turned into a very sadistic and comical expression. Dramatically, he emphasized his words.

"You take my dick like a fucking champ..." He smirked.

Y/n moaned, letting out a breathy sigh. Edward stayed in his close position, not finished with what he was saying.

"I'd fuck you so perfectly that nobody else's dick could even make you feel a fraction as good. But before I'd do that, I'd make sure you're on the brink of tears in desperation. You don't get dicked unless I believe you've earned it. I'd want you on your knees, begging, whimpering, groveling at my feet in hopes that I'll fuck your needy pussy." He chuckled.

Y/n's mouth was slightly agape, startled by how blunt he was. He looked like such a shy person, yet he was a total freak. Again, he was so good at pretending to be someone he was not. Everything he was saying seemed so out of character for him, but in reality, it was his true self. Y/n was just the only one who could bring that side out of him. Edward groaned, pointing at her mouth. He seemed irritated or frustrated, either one really.

"That pretty mouth, it's practically asking me to fuck it. Those lips look so plump and soft. Oh rabbit, open up, let me see your tongue." He asked, on the verge of pleading.

She hesitated slightly, but did as he said. Of course she did. No matter what, she would listen to and do what he said. She was his property, and they both knew it. None of them had to even say it. It was obvious that y/n was Edward's girl. Titles weren't necessary. She was simply his, as much as he was hers. Y/n let her tongue roll out and let Edward look at it for a bit. She did it in a way so that the cameras didn't see, and if they did, it just looked like she was yawning in a way. He covered his mouth with his fingers, doing his best to not jerk off at the brief sight of her tongue.

"Ffffuu...it's a blessing that I can't touch you. Your throat would be raw after I finish with you..." He groaned.

Y/n whined, spreading her legs open subtly. Edward looked down, seeing the obvious damp spot over her pelvic region. His tongue darted out and swiped over his lips. Her eyes were silently screaming 'Please, I want you!' and he loved it. Once again, he cursed the glass between them. He just wanted to devour her, taste her, eat her alive like a fox eats a rabbit. She probably tasted so sweet...

"I wish you could see how you look right now. It's so pitiful. You look like you want to be fucked so bad. Do you want to be fucked?" He groaned.

"Y-Yes, I need it daddy..." She shivered.

"Need? You desperate thing, tell me why you need to get fucked by me."

"B-Because I'm so w-wet...it aches..." Y/n whined.

"Poor rabbit, if he could daddy would bend you over and fuck you against this glass." He said flatly.

Y/n moaned softly, making Edward grip his pants. The sound was nearly enough to make him bust all over the hospital uniform. Not wanting to draw attention, Edward looked at the book again. He pretended to read it.

"You said you dreamt I was rough with you, yet I didn't even fuck you? Well, I can promise you that I'd never hurt you with your permission, I want you to know that. I love you too much to do that to you. I believe that trust and safety is important when doing things like that. So, do you trust me, y/n?" He asked, looking up from the book.

"Y-Yes."

"You believe I'll keep you safe?"

"Yes, I do."

"And you'd tell me if you were uncomfortable, yes?"

"Of course."

Edward looked back down at the book, once again pretending to read it. He was such an actor. It was almost sinful how easily he could hide his lust and vulgarity.

"So, if I shoved your face into your bed with my hand wrapped around your neck, would you like that? Would you like it if I made you choke and gasp for air?" He hummed.

"Fuck...y-yes..."

"Do you want me to pull your hair and skull fuck you until you're crying on my dick? I bet your gags sound so vulgar and erotic." He asked nonchalantly.

"E-Edward, please..."

He held up the book and slumped into the chair. Edward looked like this was the most boring conversation he had ever had in his life. His eyes lazily ran over the words in the book, y/n was half convinced he was actually reading it while he spoke those filthy words to her.

"I bet you'd like to get slapped too. Not too hard, of course. I wouldn't want to bruise that pretty little face. But, firm enough the make sure you don't step out of line. You seem like you love to be put in your place." He yawned.

"E-Edward, I don't know if I can handle this anymore..."

"That's too bad, you wanted to hear all of this, right? Now you need to sit and listen."

"F-Fuck..."

"You're filthy, rabbit. Letting a criminal and a murderer make your pussy wet."

"I-I know."

"That's good that you know. You're self-aware about how dirty you are. You must want dick terribly bad if you've resorted to someone like me."

"N-No, I l-love you!"

"Hmm, that's right. That doesn't make it any better though, rabbit. In fact, it makes it worse. Not only do you want to get dicked down by me, but you love me. For shame."

"B-But..."

"Oh, don't worry sweetheart. I'm not angry with you. I think it's lovely that you feel that way towards me, I feel the same to you. But, we better make sure no one else knows about this. Hm?"

"Mhm!"

Edward placed the book down, looking at y/n.

"Mmm, I wish I could just fuck the soul out of you. I want to make you writhe and squirm. I just know you'd feel so good around my dick."

She moaned a little louder, biting down on her tongue. Edward chuckled, leaning against the metal ledge again.

"You, rabbit, are going to scream my name." He smiled.

"Th-that's big talk f-from someone in A-Arkham." She stuttered.

Edward raised an eyebrow.

"Are you getting smart with me?"

"N-No...I was j-just..."

"No. I know what you were doing and I'm not amused. You don't think I'll find my way out of here? I will. And when I do, I'm coming for you."

Y/n blushed.

"When I get out of here, I'll be sure to rearrange those pathetic guts of yours. I'm all bark and bite."

"You can't even touch me, Edward. It sounds like a bunch of talk to me..." She huffed, getting annoyed with his cocky behavior.

"You want me to break the glass and fuck you right here? I could care less about being watched but I sincerely doubt you want the guards to see you get fucked stupid by me. Don't play with me." He spat.

"I'm n-not trying to play with you, daddy..." Y/n mumbled softly, looking down at her hands.

"Yes you are. You're mocking me and yet you sit before me, wet, pathetic, and needy. Isn't that right, rabbit?"

She nodded.

"You want me to protect you, hold you, love you, yes?" He smirked.

"Y-Yes..."

"My, my, you have terrible daddy issues, don't you? Hm. But, if you want that so bad, then why are you playing with me? Mocking me? Do you think I appreciate that? Do you think it makes me proud?" He scolded.

"No I don't, daddy." Y/n sniffled.

"Mhm, it was so rude of you to talk to me like that. Do you want to hurt daddy's feelings?" He frowned.

He was such a serpent. Oh, but he was so lovely, too. Y/n couldn't help it. It was as if she bit the apple from the tree of good and evil. Except, the serpent held the apple in his mouth after, taunting her as she begged for more. Edward was waving what she wanted in her face, just out of her reach. And he knew it. He was so sick that it was hypnotic. So dangerous yet so kind looking, a wolf in sheep's clothing. Y/n was getting too close to him, but she didn't care if she got bit.

"N-No! I don't want to!" She whined.

"Then what do we say when we hurt someone's feelings?" He hummed, cupping a hand over his ear.

Y/n swallowed a lump in her throat, practically choking on her desire. She placed her hands on the ledge, bottom lip quivering as she looked at Edward. He felt his heart skip a beat as he saw slight tears prick in her eyes. She looked so pretty when she cried, as demented as that sounded. A single tear trickled down her cheek before she wiped it away with her finger.

"M' sorry, daddy..." Y/n sighed.

"Oh, say it again, rabbit." Edward grinned.

She looked at him, blushing heavily. He raised and eyebrow, giving a sleazy smile. Y/n looked at the floor, feeling slightly humiliated. Why? She truly did not know. Maybe it was the way he was talking to her. He was so good at making her feel small.

"I-I'm sorry, daddy." She mumbled.

"An apology has never sounded so sweet..." He hummed.

Y/n figeted with her hands.

"You're just lucky I'm not able to get closer to you, rabbit. You'd be giving me more than just an apology." Edward stated flatly.

She whined, trying to picture what he was hinting at in her head. But, when she did that, she felt herself getting more turned on. That was the last thing she needed.

"I'd give you something too, but I don't know if you'd be able to handle it..." He laughed softly.

Oh, he was so demented. But, it was so hot to her. Y/n should not be so worked up over a murderer talking pure smut to her. Yet, she was. Her core ached and throbbed, pleading for her fingers, Edward's fingers, his dick, mouth, anything. She needed to be touched so bad. It was driving her crazy. She squeezed her thighs together, doing her best not to rub them together.

"That's it, back to being timid. You know you aren't the one in control here, y/n. I may be in chains in this hellhole, but don't think for one second that it makes me weak. I haven't touched you and yet I have you soaking wet, desperate to pleasure yourself while 2 cameras are pointed at you. I have you whimpering, whining, moaning, and begging for something that I can't even give you. Does that sound like someone with no power over you? No hold over you?"

"No, Edward. I-It doesn't."

"Exactly. And you love it."

She nodded and whined.

"I've got you eating out of the palm of my hand, y/n. Just like a rabbit. I wonder, if I give you a carrot, will you jump for me?" He snickered.

"I'm not a pet!" She spat.

"Then why are you so obedient to me? Why are you so dependent on me?" Edward asked, shrugging his shoulders.

"I-..."

He leaned forward, propping his elbows up. Looking at y/n, he spoke in a low tone.

"Admit it, I own you! My name is practically branded on your chest. If only...no, I don't want to scar that pretty skin of yours. But, maybe, I could just mark you...yes. Would you like that? My teeth digging into your neck? I swear I'll try to be gentle, but I'm afraid you might taste too good to be able to restrain myself...I bet your flesh and blood tastes like sugar..."

Y/n was shocked, completely thrown off by his sadistic words. Yes, she was trembling in fear. It was so disturbing to hear him talk about how he wanted to mark her, break the skin on her neck. But, yet again, y/n found herself drawn to him. It was sick, twisted, and vile. And her pussy throbbed.

"I-, b-but it'll hurt..." She whimpered.

"Well, I said I'd do my best to be gentle. All you have to do is tell me to stop! Though I so badly want to...rip you apart...I would never want to make you upset or uncomfortable, sweet rabbit." He smiled sadistically.

Y/n panted, feeling arousal seep onto her inner thighs. She felt so dirty...

"I already know the second you get home, you're going to play with yourself while thinking about me. Thinking about the things I could do to you. Thinking about how I could just..."

Edward banged his fists subtly on the table, maintaining a consistent rhythm. He kept eye contact the whole time, lips curling up into a sickly smile. He was a cocky little shit. He knew exactly what he was doing to her and he thrived in the actions he did. The sound of his fists banging rang in her ears and made her throb. Edward sped up the pace, watching as y/n's eyes closed, no doubt imagining the feeling and how it would look. Abruptly, he stopped, practically edging her in a way.

"...destroy you. Break you. Please you. Torture you." He smirked.

"E-Edward, you're a dick! You're tormenting me!" She cried softly.

"Yes I am, took you fucking long enough. I thought you were smart?" He mocked.

She shuddered, his cold gaze freezing her blood.

"It's a game to me, y/n. Yes, I love you, but I love making you crave me too. And you make it so easy..."

A knock on the glass startled y/n, making her turn around. It was most likely Bruce telling her that the visit was going on too long. She sighed, looking back to Edward. Y/n was upset, not wanting to leave, despite how torturous he was being to her. He too looked upset, his plaything was about to leave. His plaything. His. He'd have to make the last minute count. He lured the prey into security, and it was genuine security. But now, it was time for the mind games. It was time for him to strike fear and paranoia into her heart. He wanted to be in her mind for a long time to come.

"You said you loved how I intimidated and scared you in your dream, yes?" He asked.

"Yeah?"

"You'll never know when I get out of Arkham. Not until it hits the newspapers."

Y/n looked at him, unsure of what he was getting at.

"I wonder how long you'll be paranoid? How many times will you watch a dark corner, wondering if I'll walk out of it? How many times will you sleep with one eye open? How many times will you watch behind your back as you walk down the streets? I am still a criminal, after all." He smirked devilishly.

Y/n's eyes widened, feeling her skin turn to ice. It was then that she realized he truly was sick. But, why did she still love him? Oh, how conflicting a forbidden love must be. To want someone that should not be wanted. To seek approval from someone one should never seek approval from. His pupils looked dilated, staring deep into her soul. She felt exposed and violated just from his gaze. And she loved it...

"Lord, what fools these mortals be!" He shouted.

She shivered, standing up slowly from the chair. Edward picked up the book again, flipping to a certain page. He had memorized the entire book, as he had already read his own copy he bought at the bookstore. But, being Edward, he wanted to be theatric as he read quotes. He looked at y/n in the eyes, standing up abruptly, no doubt startling the guard, Bruce, and y/n herself. He placed his hands against the glass, a breathy laugh leaving his lips.

"I'll follow thee and make a heaven of hell..." He trailed.

Her pussy throbbed once again, thinking back to when they were in the bookstore. She had told Edward that she would never accept anyone's love unless they confessed or expressed it through Shakespeare. And, he was doing exactly that, Although, he was doing it in Edward fashion. Ominous, eerie, and disturbing.

"...to die upon the hand I love so well." She finished.

The door opened up and Bruce came in, grabbing y/n by the hand. Edward laughed hysterically, pacing back and forth behind the glass. His eyes were crazed behind his glasses as he kept his gaze on y/n the entire time. Y/n could tell that he was being dramatic, just wanting to get a rise out of everyone.

"Thus I die. Thus, thus, thus. Now I am dead, now I am fled, my soul is in the sky. Tongue, lose thy light. Moon take thy flight..." He paused, slowly walking back to the glass.

"...Now die, die, die, die!" He cackled.

He watched as Bruce dragged y/n out of the room. She looked back at him, still worked up from their 'discussion'. Edward blew a kiss to her, further making the scene more demented. Y/n attempted to reach up and grab it, but wanted to be discreet, so instead she smiled at him. It was odd though, as she was still terrified of his tangent that he went on. The sight of him laughing and quoting Shakespeare was not something she thought she would ever be scared of, but it was. But before she left, she heard him say one last thing. It sent chills down her spine.

"Run rabbit, run! For I linger in the shadows and you will never know when I might pounce..."

~

#writers #fanfic writer #writers of tumblr #fanfic #the riddler #paul dano #dc universe #edward nashton #paul dano riddler #danonation #dano riddler #batman 2022 #danocel #danonator

[mhsdatgo]

To the point about Rhaenyra being boring, it continues to elude me why the producers, writers, and directors decided they needed to humanize Rhaenyra by downplaying if not outright removing her worst traits. That’s not humanizing, that’s sanitizing.

There are plenty of female characters that exist in fiction who are frustrating to morally ambiguous, to completely evil but still have their fans and are beloved, or at the very least compelling. The comparisons to Shiv Roy from Succession already exist, so I won’t belabor that point, but look at other shows like Mr. Robot, Better Call Saul, and if anyone really wants to press the button for feminism: The Handmaid’s Tale. Those shows have incredibly well-written female characters that aren’t necessarily paragons.

House of the Dragon choosing to center Rhaenyra as the protagonist as opposed to making her part of a true ensemble a la the original Game of Thrones wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. The narrative decision to frame her as heroic (as far as S1 is concerned) is how we get the ‘Protagonist Centered Morality/Unreliable Narrator’ trope that results in plenty of media literate fans that are either neutral or Green-leaning who feel frustrated that there’s not an equal balance between characters.

Perfectly put together, anon. I'm sorry I answered so late. -_-

There's nothing wrong with characters that are written to be good people, but you see, that only works when said character is written consistently and somewhat realistically. Something that the writers completely didn't do in Rhaenyra's case. Are you going to tell me I'm supposed to watch her go through Visenya's traumatic birth, which by the way, happened so quickly after learning that her father was dead, keep her calm, and find it believable?

There is no sense of reason when it comes to grief. None. When someone close to you is gone, you check out. They take a part of your mind away with them and sometimes you don't even realize it. Especially if it's as horrid, as painful and helpless as what Rhaenyra went through. I am not going to sit here and blame the Greens for that baby's death, for all we know of her she had dragon features and was 100% going to die either way. That is digestible for us viewers/readers, who have no connection for a baby mentioned in a few lines.

But Rhaenyra's her mother. And rightfully, when she loses her this way, she goes mad with grief. She wants someone to blame, she cannot cope with the idea that there is no one to blame in this situation, that it would've happened either way. So she blames her enemies, the Greens. She isn't right, but she isn't even sane anymore, she's just had a stillbirth, how can you expect her to think before she speaks?

But the show strips her completely of this anger, and makes her push for peace. Is it possible that not even THAT can make this perfect angel Qween lose her temper like any human would? I understand wanting to rid her of any sin so she looks like a Saint, but really, where's the flaw in being angry and irrational after your stillbirth?

I never liked Rhaenyra as a person but I was looking forward (I'm STILL looking forward lol) to the role she will play as a character, a literary device, a tool to tell a story. I'm not saying I hope they bring out the worst of her this season so more people have reasons to hate women and feel justified for it, but LET HER BE RIGHTFULLY ANGRY. I'M BEGGING YOU.

People will always choose and be more obsessed with the evil but interesting one, not the one who's got more morals. It's already been said in a post I saw not so long ago, but Luke shouldn't be winning polls for best character against OTTO HIGHTOWER of all people because we choose morality in none other than a world like ASOIAF. Please give characters nuance. There's so much potential they got lazy with using timeskips etc. already.

#house of the dragon #fire and blood #rhaenyra targaryen

[fruitbasketball]

You’re like the only person here that actually knows ball. Everyone clamoring for PG Paige and being mad we picked up Chen 😭 like She’s a vet that will take a lot of pressure off of KK, let’s be fr like KK is limited offensively. Allowing her to really grow her game and work on having a consistent shot is needed for the future. Rn Chen is able to do what everyone wanted Nika to consistently do - SCORE. This team already has the potential to be better than last year’s squad.

Also if you look at UConn games from freshman year Geno moved Paige off ball once Nika started consistently. Paige is way too talented to be wasted at PG and I don’t think Geno and the staff view her as a PG anymore which is fine. Having someone who can play anywhere but the 5 on the floor is a luxury 99% of teams don’t have.

obviously a great offensive presence in chen, but what we’re really losing in nika is a defensive fucking powerhouse. idk if i would say BETTER than last years squad, just because aaliyah and nika had their best seasons last year. but it’s definitely a team with lots and lots of potential and i’m excited

also y’all i miss pg p just as much as anyone who got to see her play her freshman year, but you cannot deny that she is good as fuck at literally every other position on the floor. you’re looking at a big guard who’s almost a versatile big, and her running the floor is amazing and spectacular, but her moving off ball?? THAT’S what got us where we were last season

like court vision and basketball iq are not exclusive to the 1 spot - trust that her intelligence will impact the game no matter where she is

i agree - a player as versatile and talented as paige is once in a generation type shit, and geno would be dumb as fuck to limit alllllll of that to the 1

#wbb #wcbb #uconn wbb #uconn #uconn huskies #paige bueckers #ask

[hotmessmaxpress]

Today during the podium celebrations with the VR46 team I thought "damn it must be hard for Luca to see that from P17 and a different team" and then I thought "they should have sex about it".

So here's some Bezz/Luca

🏍️

Luca knew that the transition with Honda would be a challenge. He wasn’t stupid; Vale may hate him, but Marc Marquez is one of the best riders in the history of the sport. If he couldn’t tame the bike, Luca isn’t arrogant enough to assume he’d be able to get on it and succeed immediately. 

He hadn’t expected it to be this bad, though. 

P17, only because everyone below him had DNF’d. The most consistent thing about the bike seems to be riding it into last place. 

Bezz is on the podium. A triumphant P3, behind Pecco and Marquez. Luca can hear the celebrating and cheering as he goes through his post-race motions. He’s not next door to Bezz anymore– no matter how much he wants to appear in his box and wrap him up in a prosecco-soaked hug, he can’t. He’s a Honda rider now; he has team debrief and responsibilities. 

He keeps himself cool and professional as always, giving practical feedback and reaffirming his confidence in the team’s ability to turn things around. He’s exhausted by the time he’s finally done with his responsibilities, and he can tell by the noise level that the celebrations have made their way from Bezz and Pecco’s respective boxes to some other location. 

He checks his phone and finds a drunken flurry of texts from Bezz, and suddenly the emotion of everything hits at once.

He knows Honda was the right move. He knows in his bones that it was right for him to move on, out of Vale’s shadow and into a team that he can make his own. 

That doesn’t make it easy. VR46 was home; the team were an extension of his family. Hell, Uccio has known Vale longer than Luca has been alive. Everyone involved with the team was comfortable and warm and loved him. 

Luca tells himself that he can love Honda but also miss his family. It’s like moving away from your childhood town to work in a big city, he thinks. 

He misses Bezz like a limb. He wants desperately to celebrate with Bezz, to feel his face tucked into his neck the way he does when he’s so happy. He misses the sound of his laugh and the little gap between his teeth when he smiles. He wants to dig his hand into Bezz’s hair and rub his head like he’s a puppy. 

Bezz facetimes him when he’s back at the hotel. Luca debates about answering, too busy allowing himself an evening to wallow before he wakes up and heads back to the track for testing in the morning. 

When he does answer, he’s surprised to find that Bezz isn’t at a bar. He also doesn’t appear to be drunk, in the way Luca expected. He wonders if Vale’s presence looming over the team made them a little more cautious with the partying the night before a testing day. 

Bezz is in his own hotel room.

“Luca,” he whines. “You didn’t tell me I did a good job.”

That startles a laugh out of Luca. 

“I’m sorry. Good job,” Luca obliges. Bezz huffs, and Luca smiles at the pout on his face.

“I don’t like that you don’t tell me after races now. Although I guess I haven’t been doing a good job this season until today,” he rambles. 

Luca laughs again.

“You’ve been doing great, Bezz.” That he himself is the one who hasn’t been doing great is left unsaid. “I’m sorry I can’t tell you every race, now. I’ll have to remember to text you.”

Bezz shakes his head. 

“No, I want you to tell me in person.”

“You left,” Luca says feebly. “Before I was done with Honda.”

Bezz seems even more annoyed by that, and Luca gets the feeling that everything he’s said so far is wrong. 

“What is your hotel number?”

Luca laughs, but then he sees Bezz is serious, 

“Bezz, it’s late. We have testing tomorrow.”

“I don’t care,” he argues. “I just want to see you. Please? I got a podium today and I want to see you.”

Longing squeezes Luca’s chest and he quietly gives Bezz his room number. Bezz hangs up and appears five minutes later at Luca’s door. Luca lets him in, and he barely has the door closed before Bezz has wrapped himself around Luca and tucked his face into his neck. 

Luca relaxes into the hug, happy to have Bezz in his arms. He missed him so dearly. It hasn’t even been that long; only a few months of racing on different teams. It feels like they’ve been separated for a lifetime.

If Luca really thinks about it, this is the first time they’ve been alone together since they both raced on the same team. Since announcing he was riding for Honda and changing his training routine, he had seen Bezz mostly with the other academy riders. 

Neither of them are in a hurry to let go.

Luca is the first to pull away, but only to force Bezz to kick his shoes off and climb onto the bed with him. Bezz seems happy with that plan, and he grabs the television remote before pushing and pulling Luca into a position that he’s happy with. Then he flops down on top of Luca. 

Luca’s heart is racing at the feeling of Bezz’s body on top of his, even as Bezz finds some Spanish show with English subtitles that he knows neither of them have the brainpower to follow. 

Bezz seems content to tuck his face into Luca’s neck, and Luca can’t help but smile.

“Bezz?” he asks. 

Bezz sits up. Their faces are too close, but neither of them move apart.

“You did a good job today,” he breathes, unable to take his eyes away from Bezz’s. 

Bezz grins, toothy and happy, then he leans up, pressing on Luca’s chest hard enough to knock the breath out of him, and presses his lips to Luca’s mouth. 

Luca pushes back against Bezz, taking the weight off of his chest, and he rolls Bezz so he’s laying on his back. He leans over Bezz, bracketing him with his arms, and continues kissing him. He’s not entirely sure where this came from; why Bezz decided to do this now. 

He can’t say he’s never gotten the impression that Bezz could be interested in him; they used to spend hours and hours together, and there were many times that felt like they came close to something. 

Apparently all it took was one Bezz podium for them to finally overcome their hesitations. 

Bezz tastes and smells amazing, and now that Luca has experienced it he’s not sure he will ever be able to let him go. He sucks a mark on Bezz’s neck, and bites at his collarbone. 

He thinks of their matching scars. 

“Luca,” Bezz groans. 

Luca smiles against Bezz’s neck. 

“Yeah?”

Bezz rolls his hips up, demanding attention, and Luca tuts.

“Impatient,” he teases.

“I got a trophy today,” Bezz whines. “I deserve an award.”

Luca laughs and kisses him. 

“You deserve the world,” he says. It’s corny but he means it, and judging by Bezz’s grin he understands. 

Luca decides it’s imperative that he immediately get his hands on Bezz. He sits up to tug at Bezz’s clothes, and there’s an awkward few moments of shuffling and laughing as they both manage to get out of their clothes. They’re both out of breath and laughing, and Bezz basically tackles Luca onto his back on the bed. 

He straddles Luca, and Luca pulls him down to kiss him. Bezz wiggles happily on his lap and Luca laughs into the kiss, teeth knocking together. 

Bezz presses his face against Luca’s cheek, and they both laugh. 

Luca reaches down, wrapping a hand around Bezz’s cock. It startles a choked moan out of the smaller man, and Luca grins in satisfaction. 

Luca knows they won’t have sex tonight; not with a lack of lube and with the responsibility of an entire day of testing tomorrow. Still, his brain is dominated by desire to make Bezz come. 

The angle is off, but he spits in his hand and starts pumping Bezz’s cock while he uses his other hand to tug Bezz’s mouth back to his. 

Bezz adjusts his position, and Luca is able to take his own cock in hand with Bezz’s. The feeling of rutting against Bezz, breathing into his mouth, smelling him around him, is nearly enough to make Luca come immediately. 

He manages to hold off for a bit longer, but neither he nor Bezz last long. Soon they’re both spilling over Luca’s hand, gasping into each other’s mouths. 

Bezz immediately starts laughing, and collapses to the side. Luca wipes his hand on his chest, catching his breath and joining Bezz in his giggles.

“Let’s shower and sleep,” he suggests. 

Bezz whines but allows Luca to tug him into the bathroom. Luca delights in soaping Bezz up, running his hands across his body and lapping water from his collarbones. He loves the way Bezz laughs, and they spend too much time messing around in the shower.

When they finally get out and dry off, they tangle themselves together back in bed. 

Bezz lays down and holds his arms out, and Luca lays down on top of him, face pressed into his neck. 

“I’m proud of you,” he mumbles into Bezz’s neck. 

“Thank you,” Bezz breathes, running a hand through his hair. 

They drift into easy sleep together soon after.

#marco bezzecchi #luca marini #what is their ship name? #mb72 #lm10