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mattsonly · 9 days

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Too innocent

Summary: in which, Matt finds pictures of who he thought was his innocent best friend, in unexpected positions...

Warnings: male masturbation, oral m!recieving, porn with very little plot, piv, unprotected sex, innocence & corruption kink, no use of y/n.

a/n: this is my very first fic (on tumblr anyways) so i am hoping it meets standards!! also, this came to me in a dream and i am a SUCKER for innocent!reader so i just had to ;)

You had always been the sweet, soft and gentle spoken type, never so much as uttering a curse word, even to your closest friends. This exterior had, however; earned you a nickname with your bestfriend. Angel. Which, inevitably, had your cheeks warm and tinted in a furious pink everytime.

Matt only called you it to tease, thriving in pride whenever he saw your rosy dusted face each time he uttered the pet name. It was fitting, he thought. You were the embodiment of purity.

Said fact (which he was now debating) occupated his mind as his jaw went slack, knuckles white and gripping desperately on the polaroid pictures he had found in your bedside drawer, as if you were going to storm in and snatch them away.

Even if you had, they had already worked effectively as his pants suddenly felt awfully tight, on the border of painful.

Matt would've been slightly less shocked if there were perhaps only one snapshot of your naked (or almost so) body, he could've excused it as curiosity. But, with atleast 15 different printed pictures in hand with evidently different time stamps, this wasn't just curiosity.

This was deceit, he felt lied to. He wasn't mad about his curious discovery, though. But how he desperately wished this oppurtunity had presented itself sooner. The lack of time had suddenly dawned on Matt, realising if he desired the relief that was pent up in his sweats, he had to act fast.

Tugging them down eagerly, lifting his pink shirt and stuffing the hem into his mouth, biting down in it in attempt to conceal any inevitable moans that were surely to spill out. He was impressed at how he didn't do so already when he first saw the polaroids, his dedication to not get caught evidently overpowering.

Matt loosened his grip on the photos, in order to switch between which one was on top of the pile. His mind was racing with borderline filthy thoughts of all the positions you were in, and how he would destroy you in every one. Palming his now throbbing cock through the thin material of his boxers, his head threw back with the pictures above his face, to remain in constant eyeline.

One, was a picture of you in only a thin thong, knelt on your bed pointing the camera to the mirror behind, a clearshot view of your ass propped up on your heels had Matt salivating onto the thin material of his shirt he had formely stuffed in his mouth. Another was of you bent over your bathroom counter, adorning nothing on your body, showing your bare arched back and the slope of your ass, with your tits in slight view in the bottom right corner, as well as your collarbones. And the final one of the bunch that had definitely caught Matt's attention, was the only one of all that showed your face.

Your smile in the polaroid was the same one Matt had seen multiple times, only having mistaken it for one of entire innocence. Though nothing about the smile was different, Matt felt this one was taken in an entire different light. Your hair was damp and loose over your shoulders, water trickling down your body from the shower head above you, suds of soap scattering your bare chest which was in plain view. This one was by far his favourite, the look in your eyes, the image of your plush tits practically begging for attention infront of his eyes, your sweet yet somehow seductive smile.

All had him weak, pathetically palming himself through his boxers, continuous groans falling from his flushed lips and vibrating off the material of his shirt on his tongue.

He imagined vividly all the things he could and wished to do to you, have you sat on his lap like in the first picture, riding his fingers to the point of overstimulated tears, your innocent eyes glassy and lips pouted in a whine. Even so, he'd have you begging for more, rutting eagerly against his hand and chasing your... 5th? 6th? orgasm. You both lost count, far too caught up in the sensual moment.

He'd bend you over the bathroom counter, just like the second picture, his palm flat on the bottom of your back and pushing your torso against the cool marble surface. With your nipples now perked up and on full display for him, how could you expect him to resist grabbing one of your tits as he pounds into you infront of the mirror, his unoccupied hand tangling in your hair and pulling your head back to see your fucked out face. He imagined that, your swollen lip between your teeth, mascara running down the apples of your flushed cheeks which only fuelled the eager slamming of his cock inside you.

The last one... his personal favourite, Matt practically whimpered upon sight of it, wanting desperately to go beneath the restraints of his boxers and pump his dick furiously, with the firing desire the photos built up inside him, but he refrained, settling for simply working above the thin material. That way, he assumed it would maintain some form of respect for his oh so innocent best friend. Undeniably, this was wrong. He had snooped and stumbled upon these on his own accord, you hadn't left them out.

Which is why he knew how perverted and filthy the situation was, but that didnt stop the movement of his palm over his sensitivity, nor the moan of your name, muffled by his shirt. Nor the dip of the mattress near his feet.

You smiled up at him as he stared at you, dumbfounded. With his hand covering his almost bare cock, shirt in his mouth, and your private polaroids in clutch. Not many excuses could be made. Instead, he released his shirt from between his teeth, furrowing an eyebrow while maintaining eye contact. "Well?" the one worded sentence, despite so little content, spoke a million words. He was asking whether you were willing to break the boundary. Whether you were as filthy as the pictures made you seem.

Whether you were going to help him in his.. predicament.

All at once.

The soft touch of your hand could be felt atop his, the very same that was palming himself only 10 seconds ago, gently sliding his own hand off and replacing it with your own.

Matt felt that, maybe.. just maybe, your innocent demeanor hadn't been false. If he hadn't had proof against that, the feather-light touches of your hand brushing over his sensitive tip and the way you had ever-so-softly asked "is this okay?" would've swayed his mind that you truly were the embodiment of an angel.

His head nods quickly and almost instantly his aching dick was finally released, your hands tugging the waistband down to his thighs, looking up at Matt as you land soft kisses to the ruddy tip still feigning innocence. Innocence that he oh so wants to destroy. Matt wants to see the sweet girl wither away beneath him under the influence of his dick, he wants to be the cause of your corruption.

The sensation of your lips engulfing the head of his cock was barely enough to snap him out of his perverse thoughts, though it succeeded. Eliciting a pent up groan from the back of his throat, one that was long longg overdue. Along side Matt's mind being blurred from pure lust and ecstasy as you took him expertly in your throat, managing to fit almost all of it in bar an inch or two, he also had a fuzzy feeling from the relief of finally having you like this, finally feeling the sensual touch that he had longed for from a distance ever since you traded baggy shirts for tube tops.

Despite the impending release building in his abdomen, Matt tugged perhaps a little too eagerly on your hair, completely disconnecting your mouth from where he needed you most. The sight was one that had a borderline pornographic moan fall from his lips. Yours, were red and coated in a thin sheen of saliva that fell slightly onto your chin, your cheeks warm and tinged red and eyes watery from supressing the continuous gags threatening to escape your throat each time his tip grazed the back of it. Yet you were smiling, that damned smile that had him fooled, leading him to believe his dirty scenarios concocted in his mind truly were barbaric, because you were far too innocent for that.

Matt used your makeshift ponytail as a guide, pulling you up by your hair, releasing his strong grip after you were situated up on your knees, instead pulling your forward by a stern hand on your hip. "Need you so bad angel, gotta feel you around me" his words came out in a slurred yet attractive murmur, voice raspy from the sounds elicited from his throat.

He shouldn't have been shocked that his sentence had you pulling your shirt over your head, contrasting who he thought you were for years. He shouldn't have been shocked, but he was. Shocked that despite revealing your bare chest to him, and situating yourself atop his hips, your face still looked so angelic and pure, and it undeniably turned Matt on to no end.

As if upon animalistic instinct, he grabbed your hips on either side, flipping you over and consequently groaning at the soft whimper that left your plush lips as your head met the pillow. Matt was addicted to you. The sight, sound, and he was beyond curious upon the taste. You knew the power you held over Matt, you knew that you were practically lurring him in like a sailor to a siren, and you knew you needed him... biblically. Leaning up, connecting the two pairs of eager lips, clashing and dancing together as if choreographed. Messy, yet sweet. Soft, yet passionate.

"Matt..please, please touch me" your begs and whines sounded pathetic, but fueled the burning desire bubbling in the boy's abdomen, which was apparent from the groan that vibrated against your collarbone from where his mouth was connected, sucking a purple mark on the fleshy bone.

Matt's hand had a mind of its own, as if not concious yet all too concious of the fact it was now trailing down your torso, teasing the soft skin of your inner thighs beneath your skirt, barely grazing your clit as a teasingly slow finger moves around your clothed cunt. Despite the touch being nowhere near enough to what you wanted, it managed to have your hips bucking up, rutting into the brunette's palm eagerly. "Matt.. don't tease.." You begged again, earning a sharp slap to your slick centre which had a mix between a moan and whimper escape your lips.

"Don't tease? Baby.. you were the one taking those filthy pictures, did you want me to see them? acted like a slut for your best friend to find.. so naughty" He tutted, with a stern shake of his head which had tears welling in your waterline and lips pouting. "Aw baby, don't cry.. i'll give it to ya. 'Y so desperate, needy little slut" what was meant to ease your mood, only had the salty drops falling down your cheeks, sniffling and feigning innocence. Matt saw straight through your act, unfooled by your antics, instead incredibly turned on by the trails of tears down your face.

Being equally as desperate and unwilling to tease himself in the process of teasing you, a small smile formed on your lips at the feeling of his smooth tip against your entrance, not yet intruding instead resting in place and looking in your eyes for an all clear sign. Despite wanting to absolutely destroy you, stripping you of any innocene that wasn't an act, he'd much rather do that knowing you wanted it too.

Expectedly, you did. Almost making Matt sigh in relief as he slowly pushed himself inside your warm opening, your walls immediately hugging his dick tightly and eliciting a gasp from not only him, but you from the comfortable and delicious stretch. With leverage on his arms, because of your strong grip on his bicep, his movements began and instantly created a rhythm that had you both groaning in bliss. Cresent moon shaped indents littered Matt's bicep, allerting him of your pleasure as his pace picked up, rutting into you almost ruthlessly.

The unrelenting, harsh yet oh so blissful pace of his hips rocking into yours entirely contradicted the intimacy of the moment and the pure adoration in the boy's eyes. With your most intimate parts connected, practically the same person in the moment, nothing but love was clear in his cerulean irises and the harsh slam of his dick inside you managed to feel like gentle kisses.

Both of you were aware that despite one another's desperation to finally cum, love hung heavy in the room, swarming the air around them and engulfing them entirely, amplifying the already overwhelming pleasure.

Your back arched, your chest very nearly flush against Matt's as your eyes screw shut, your soft walls pulsating around the brunette's length. "Matt! Matt! 'm so close.. so so close!" attempted words left your lips, yet only hitting Matt's ears as incoherent babbles, making him chuckle darkly and take a hand to where your bodies' are connected, swiftly rubbing the pad of his thumb against your clit with fevor, his other hand gripling the headboard as echoes of his own pleasure bounced off the walls, almost definitely alerting anyone of the activity in the room.

With the added sensation, the tightness in your stomach unwound, hitting you like a tonne of bricks as your legs shake, and strings of inaudible praises and gratitude vibrate against the walls. The pulsating of your soft walls engulfing him was enough to push Matt over edge, his hips stuttering and dick twitching, a broken whine echoing from his lips as he bites down harshly on your neck. A mantra of "fuck, fuck.. oh god" being the only words capable of being uttered due to the overwhelming ecstasy.

A warm smile occupied your cheeks. smiling up at Matt as he rode out his high, mouth agape and hair messy. voice broken and eyes boring directly into you.

With a shaky exhale, he smiled too, finally having you exactly as he wanted to.

a/n 2: soo i was gonna write aftercare for this too but i felt i already dragged it so nopeeee!!

@mattsenthusiast

#matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader

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egglygreg · 2 years

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...

#I keep seeing everyone on about running up that hill because of stranger things #but my favourite kate bush song was always wuthering heights #because it's so fun to terribly sing at the top of your lungs and the dance is very fun to know #if I ever find just the right red dress I'm going to film myself doing it even if it causes me a bunch of pain and puts me in a flare #also babushka is very fun to sing as well

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princessbrunette · 22 days

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you couldn’t help it. he was your dads favourite friend. yours too.

above all, you felt safe with him — perhaps because he was the youngest of the bunch, it felt there was a more mutual understanding between the two of you. it was no secret that he loved to flirt with you, between offering you trips on his boat to your dad — likely just to get you alone, and the often implications he’d throw into casual conversation when you’d mention another boys name, along the lines of “listen kid you don’t need a boy you need a man. these suckers aren’t gonna satisfy you, can tell you that for free.” as he inhales cigarette smoke, fingers drawn to his lips outside at a work party for your dad that you’d invited yourself to.

he’d pulled up in that expensive car of his that you loved so much after you’d called him, begging him to pick you up. he even gets out the car to open your passenger seat door, taking note of the way you were more tipsy and loose than usual, tits practically falling out your top. “jesus, be careful would you?”

once driving away, you notice him licking his lips, glancing at you as he shakes his head disapprovingly.

“what’s that look for?” you giggle, rubbing at your thighs to warm up. the action makes him clench his jaw, flicking on the cars heating system just a tad — just so you’d stop tempting him. despite all the flirting, he was never quite sure if he could risk going through with it with you. he couldn’t lose this job, not after his own father had cut him off after starting his thirties.

“fuck are you doing out at this time, huh? does — does your dad know?” he blinks obviously at you, glancing away from the road for a second and you notice his hands tighten on the wheel when he sees the way you’re gazing at him.

“no! i’d like to keep it that way. i didn’t tell him ‘cos i didn’t wanna get in trouble. you’re not gonna get me in trouble right, mr cameron?” you lean over the centre console, tilting your head like a sad puppy. his eyes flutter in irritation and arousal, and he tongues at his cheek.

“nah… no… and i already told you to quit callin’ me that shit when i’m not working. it’s rafe.”

“mm, okay rafe. terribly sorry.” you smile to yourself, sitting back in your seat. there’s a short silence, before his curiosity gets the better of him.

“so— so who’s party was this anyway? you hangin’ out with boys?” his eyes slide over to you at the red light, his handsome features illuminated by the red glow.

“what if i was?” you tease and he rolls his eyes, shaking his head and lifting a hand off the steering wheel in exasperation.

“just a question. alright?” he thinks for a moment. “n’i told you already not to do that. trust me — okay — i was that age. it’s bad news for you… m’just tryna help you out here.” he resigns, shrugging.

“maybe you just want me all to yourself.” you walk your fingers along his leg — and this time he actually laughs, but it’s nervous, looking out his window as if to avoid looking at you all together. “wha’s funny? you’re the one always flirting with me.” you bat your eyelashes but he stares straight ahead, eyes hanging low.

“are you wasted?”

you sit back in your seat, arms crossed. “you should be nicer to me you know. i’m your bosses daughter.” your tone is braggy, chin held high with dignity.

“yeah, you’re my bosses daughter. s’exactly why i cannot be too fuckin’ nice to you, okay? can — can you do me a favour here? i’m trying to do the hard thing here and act right. if i did what i really wanted to do you’d probably just go runnin’ off to tell daddy, so… please.” he rants irately, a stiff hand held up between you. you stare at him, your bratty pout transforming in a conniving smile.

“what do you wanna do to me, rafe? ‘said if you did what you really wanted to do… so tell me what you want to do to me.” you lilt, turning your body in your seat which made your skirt hike up a little and your tits press together. he sighs, dropping his head for a moment and scratches his cheek at his slip up before giving you a warning look.

“don’t ask me that shit, okay?”

“i wont tell, i’m really good at keeping secrets.” you smile brightly, and he continues to stare — nearly missing the light turn green.

“that right.” he deadpans and you nod.

“mhm. anyways, funny story — i’ve been getting really good at my stretches. totally unrelated, but you know i can get my knees up by my head now? i’d show you, but there’s not much space here. there’s probably… a lot more space in the backseat.” you lean forward once more, and he continues to stare ahead, driving. “c’mon, rafe. don’t you wanna see? no one has to know.”

“alright, okay — shit. you want it so bad, i’ll give you what you fuckin’ want. jesus— you know, it’s about time you learn to stop teasing grown men, understand me?” he swivels the wheel, briskly pulling into a parking lot nearby and parking the car so haphazardly that you jolt forward when he pulls the brake. “what — are you havin’ second thoughts? huh? no? get in the back before i change my damn mind.”

“okay, rafe.”

“and thats mr cameron to you now, a’ight? go on.”

#divider by gigittamic #okay but dbf!rafe with bratty spoiled ex prom queen cheerleader kook reader !!!! my new fav thing #dbf!rafe #rafe cameron prompt

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wicchyy · 4 months

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—0.4 snow & bubbles ; james potter

sum: snow, foam, steam, bubbles - you and James share a moment in the hot tub / bestfriend!James

warnings: none rly

notes: best friends James again bc I’m obsessed w them. they’re practically dating but it’s okay

You knew exactly how many rooms Sirius had in his family cabin. 2. His parent’s room and the one that belonged to him and his brother. The cabin hadn’t been used by his family for years since they had a falling out. Sirius had the key, and it turned into a winter tradition that the four of you took part in.

James, Remus, Sirius, and you. Sirius offered a few nights to wind down at his cabin before you’d all continue to celebrate Christmas with the Potter family. Every year, Sirius and Remus took his parents room that had the plush king sized bed and amazing view, which also had a fireplace of their own.

While you and James shared Sirius’ room. You didn’t mind it really. Not when you and James had been best friends for so long, sharing a room, a bed, and a shower felt all too natural.

Your other two friends had a hard time believing you and James were only best friends. They’d seen you cuddling together, sleeping together, hell they’d even been in encountered you both at this moment.

…

It started with Sirius wanting to have a relaxing evening. He’s set the toggles on the hot tub at the back of the cabin. Put some light foam in and made two cups of hot cocoa for himself and Remus to enjoy. Then, Sirius had distracted himself with snogging around with Remus around the cabin that he’d ultimately forgotten about the romantic gesture he’d set up for his boyfriend.

The window from his parents room had provided a clear view of you and James. James in nothing but his swim shorts and you in your white bikini enjoy on the very tub that he’d adjusted for his own comfort.

James was already inside, stretching his legs out and holding a hand out for you to grab as you slowly walked down the short 3 steps to join him in the hot water.

Steam was coming out of the tub and the jets were making you even warmer. The instant breeze of the snowy winter air no longer affected you.

You were tucked warmly in a foamy tub with your best friend, James. He looked over at you in admiration, not helping himself with the thin material of your choice of a bathing suit. He wanted to reach out and tug at the strap on your shoulder, but you had interrupted him by putting a hand on his bare chest.

“I love winter. Do y’know that this is my favourite season, Jamie?”

James smiles and pulls your hand closer to his lips, pressing a light kiss on it. Just things that best friends do with each other.

“I know, sweetheart. You’ve said it a bunch of times on our way here and when you took photographs of me in the snow with your muggle camera.”

“Right. I did that.”

“I still don’t understand why the pictures won’t move, though. Is it the unadvanced technology or muggles simply like the way things are, boring.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder, “Well, James. I’m not quite sure but I think I’ll go with both.”

“Hm.” He hummed, a hand wrapping you even closer. James let his head fall gently atop you, a sign that let you know he wanted your fingers to mess around with his curls.

You wrapped your hand around his shoulder too, your palm connecting with his head and instead of playing with his hair, you dumped water atop him. “Honestly, Jamie you couldn’t have not expected me to do that.”

James’ laughter filled your ears, clearly having the upper hand as both of his hands kept you in place while he shook his head towards your face. Foam and water splashed at you and you couldn’t help but join in on his delirious laughter.

“Oh, James!” You shouted, trying to get out of his grasps but realizing that he only tugged you harder into the water.

When you surfaced up, your cheeks were hot and foam covered the top of your head. “Sorry, sweetheart. Should’ve known the consequences.”

“Christ I really can’t enjoy a peaceful evening with you.” You poked his chest, a small smile playing at your lips.

James pulled your face closer with one of his hands, his lips making haste of a cheek kiss on you. At the same time, your hands gripped his shoulder to attempt another splash in the foamy water but your body was pulled closer by James’ other hand to put you atop his lap.

“Hello, there.” He smiled up at you. His hand was still on your hips, fingers grazing dangerously close to the region below your belly button.

“Jamie. C’mon let me off.” You didn’t really want to be let off his lap. But you had the intrusive thoughts knocking at your brain that reminded how you were straddling him basically. You didn’t want to go out of the boundaries of your friendship. You didn’t want James to be uncomfortable.

“Just a moment, please.” He pointed those beautiful hazel eyes at you he knew you loved. “Y’so warm, sweet girl.”

Well. You didn’t dare deny him. He was practically begging for you to be there. And there wasn’t an ounce of awkwardness between you two. Even if you were in a questionable position with your best friend.

“Alright then. Just a few minutes. Siri and Remus can’t see us with all this foam can they?”

“Course not. They won’t be able to see anything.”

Of course it wasn’t the matter of them just seeing, you just didn’t want them to bug you with yet another reason why you and James aren’t purely best friends.

“Y’look so pretty in this thing, y’know.” James grinned, poking a finger into your side to tease you.

“And you .. look fine in your usual swim shorts.” You laughed, lightly pouring on water at his top half so his shoulders weren’t freezing.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” James did the same. His hand scooping water to pour over the skin of your body which wasn’t in the water.

“I’m really looking forward to this week, Jamie. With our friends, with your family.” You sighed comfortably, relaxing your weight atop James.

“Mhm. Me too.” James replied simply. He didn’t know what else to say when he had his beautiful friend sitting on top of him. Talking so softly that his heart was pounding nervously. He was worried he’d say the wrong thing or do the wrong move. He was even more afraid of his lower half possibly waking up and freaking you out. Though he shouldn’t have pulled you in his lap if he didn’t want that to happen.

James’ thoughts were just scattered right now, with the steam and the foam clouding his judgement. All he really knew was he wanted to kiss your lips and pull you closer and closer to him because all he’s ever wanted is to savor every moment with you.

“Jamie!” You pinched his cheek, “You were staring blankly at me. What’s wrong? Am I making you uncom—“

“No!” James rushed to say, “No, no. You’re perfect, sweetheart. Not making me uncomfortable. Not at all.”

“Alright. Is there something wrong?”

He settled his hands on your back, bringing you just a few inches closer to him. “Nothing. I’m also very excited for you to be visiting. Though I don’t think mum will let me share my room with you.” He chuckles.

You roll your eyes, finally deciding to rest your hands behind James’ neck, circling them like you’re in a position to kiss. “Then I guess we’ll have to savor the days you can share a room with me.”

“Believe me, sweetheart. I want to savor every day I can share with you.” James flirts, his heart beating faster. “Here.” He takes one of your hands from the nape of his neck and directs in to his chest where his heart is. “This is the effect you have on me.”

“You have the same on me.” You smiled shyly. James smiled and pulled your face even closer again, this time to press a little kiss on the tip of your nose.

The little moment has you fluttering. This kind of thing, it makes you want to risk the means of your friendship by pulling him and letting your lips land on his.

“And you’re so warm. Y’make me so warm. Can you be my human furnace?” He teases.

“If anything, you’re my human furnace.”

The hot water, the steam, the foam made the moment between you two even special than you’d ever had with anyone else. Your thoughts consisted of James, James, James.

Suddenly, the mood changed as a shout came from behind you. “Hey! Prongs, Y/n! You’re joking!”

“Pads, it’s fine. Christ let them have their moment.” Remus interrupted from behind.

“No! I set this all up for Moony. And now you two shitheads are eating it all up.”

You were quick to roll your eyes and just lean further onto James, hugging him with your hands landing on his shoulders again. “Leave us alone, Pads.” James groaned, his hands traveling to your back.

“If you both don’t get up, I’m jumping in.” Sirius demanded. Which, he unsurprisingly did. Making quick work of his clothes until he was left with his boxers on.

You snicker as you heard Sirius make his way into the hot tub. Leaning onto James’ left side so you could see Sirius’ angry face side eyeing the both of you, the position you were in.

“You’ve got to be actually fucking with me. I’m so angry right now, but the water is so relaxing.”

James chimed in, “I know. Now shut up. Moony! Get in, already. We’re having a friendship moment.” James grinned at his two friends.

Remus didn’t object and did as James said. “Right. A friendship moment, indeed.” He said with a knowing look, making eye contact with you.

“Hm. I’m loving this trip.” You smiled. James looked up at you and pressed another kiss on your cheek, agreeing with what you’ve said.

💌 thanks for reading lovie! support me by reblogging <3

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writingforrhys · 1 year

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as you were

cassian x reader warnings: none! just some arguing and very sassy bat boys LOL. and some nesta and elain slander oh and quite a bit of swearing contents: welcome to a long awaited part 2 of smaller than this! i finally wrote the comfort to the hurt. please enjoy!

masterlist

Cassian couldn't find you anywhere.

He was sweaty, and disgusting, and disheveled after a long morning of training with his brothers. Azriel had been on point this particular session, seemingly being able to read Cassian's mind and know his every next move. He'd been put to the floor more times than he could count and all he wanted was to find you, bathe, and throw himself under the covers for some comfort and some really good sex.

The Illyrian had flown down to the Rainbow in search of your favourite bakery for some custard treat that he knew you couldn't get enough of and a bunch of your favourite flowers. And now, he couldn't fucking find you.

There was nothing better to Cassian than that shy look you'd get on your face when he'd turn up with gifts in hand, like you couldn't believe you were the one he was giving them to. The way you'd wring your hands together and rock on your feet, reaching towards him with that big, bright smile and a welcome home kiss, just to rush off to put your flowers in some water or show Rhys exactly what he'd bought you.

Gods, he needed to find you.

He felt like he'd searched the house 3 times over. He'd gone to the library, the kitchens, even Rhys's study and still no sight of you. It had barely hit noon and he knew your routine ridiculously well. You should've been pottering somewhere.

He found himself standing outside of your shared bedroom, concerned that perhaps you'd fallen ill, or caught on to one of Az's headaches, and had retired to your bed for the day. He craned his ears to search for any signs of life from the room; put off by the lack of light funnelling through the gaps of the door.

Cassian was just about ready to haul ass and search for you again elsewhere, when he heard it. It... you... a sniffle?

The door slowly creaked open, warm light from the hall washing over the unmoving mass under the sheets. Cassian moved as gently as he could, (albeit he was not very gentle at all), and found only the top of your head peeking through.

"Are you okay, honey? Not feeling well?"

His kind words and tender tone made you want to cry even more and you had to resist the urge to not look over the sheets and take a look at his beautiful face.

"I'm fine, Cass." And there it was. Mistake, mistake, mistake.

Any other person would've walked away. Any other person would have wished you farewell and hoped you got better. Any other person wouldn't concern themselves over the inflection of your voice. But not Cassian.

No, Cassian heard it all. Saw it all. He heard the shaking of your speech, the uncertainty. Could hear the wetness. And, he could bet that if he pulled back the bed covers, he'd find you tear-stained and choked up and utterly humiliated. And he was always right when it came to you.

And now, as panic blossomed in his chest, he took a seat next to your unmoving form and placed a hand just atop your body. He was careful not to remove the covers; he didn't need you closing off even more.

"You wanna tell me what happened, my love?"

A head shake.

"Did someone do this to you? Has someone made you upset?"

Silence.

"Who."

You removed the covers now, no further down than the top of your chest he noticed, and the sight of you broke his heart. You were all sniffles and puffy faced and hair so unkempt it could make a Naga run back to the woods. You'd obviously been here a while - alone and vulnerable. His heart broke again.

"It's okay, Cassie, really. They didn't mean any harm. I wasn't even supposed to hear it."

"They?" He was furious. Utterly and blindingly furious. Whoever had made you cry was very soon certain to wish they were never born.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you sighed, realising this was a battle not easily won. Cassian was not the type to let things go easily, especially when it came to you, and you weren't foolish enough to hope that he would just leave it alone.

"Nesta and Elain," Your voice was just a whisper, eyes still closed, "They... they were talking about me. Didn't have many nice points."

The Illyrian was the picture of silent rage. His heart a furnace; one doing a terrific job at boiling the blood under his skin.

"What did they say?"

You were hesitant now, as if speaking the words aloud would somehow make them more true. Your eyes peeked open, looking everywhere but Cass, until a large hand took purchase upon your cheek, tilting your face to meet his encouraging stare.

Your voice wobbled as you told him what they'd said - the descriptions that had hurt you the most. More tears streamed down your face at this and a calloused thumb reached to wipe every one away.

Once you had finished, Cassian stood silently, leaning down to plant a kiss to your hairline, and made a beeline for the door.

"Where are you going?" You wiped at your tired eyes.

"I'm off to kill some sisters."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The door to the living room had slammed open so fast that the walls of the house had shaken. Every head in the room had whipped to a seething Cassian in the doorway.

Rhysand was the first to stand and reach out his hand tentatively, as if taming a beast, "What's wrong, brother?"

Cassian's gaze didn't even land upon the High Lord. His line of sight shot right to the sofa behind him, carrying Feyre and Lady Death herself.

"You."

Nesta wasn't someone who showed much emotion in her face. Her range of expressions only varied between extremely discontent and mildly satisfied. But now, with the General standing in the doorway and a thunderous stare thrust upon her, she didn't know how to hide the amount of emotion bubbling up to her face.

Seeing her sister's agitation, the High Lady also rose to her feet and stepped forward. One of her hands rested upon Cassian's arm, gently rubbing as she lead him into the room.

"You need to tell us what the problem is, or we can't fix it."

"What's the problem, Feyre?" He scoffed, "She's my fucking problem."

The Illyrian's voice was raising with every word he spat. His voice had reached the adjourned kitchens, where Azriel and Elain now tentatively filtered out. Elain monitored the situation carefully, and quickly took a seat next to Nesta, grasping one of her hands in her own.

"Cassian, perhaps you need to calm down. I'm sure Nesta will be more comfortable to talk to you then." Elain's voice was barely above a whisper.

"Oh, go bake some fucking bread, Elain!"

"Cassian," Azriel spoke, "You need to choose your next words carefully."

"Really, brother? I don't think I do," He turned to Azriel, "Would you like to know what your little girlfriend has been saying about Y/N?"

The room was silent. Elain was red.

A beat passed as Azriel and Rhysand made eye contact. Azriel's shoulder's squared and his jaw ticked. Rhys laid a hand on Feyre's elbow, who was quick to leave the room with a soft mutter of I'm going to check on Y/N. The three Illyrian's were now facing the sisters on the couch, a storm brewing in the room.

"What did you say?" The shadowsinger's voice was uncomfortably steady.

"We didn't say anything. Get your guard dogs away from us." Nesta seethed at Cassian.

"You didn't... say anything?" Rhysand spoke slowly - accusatory.

Elain was nothing like her sister. Nesta could lie for days on end and not break a sweat. Often, when they were young, Nesta would spin tales about the other children in the village and see which rumour she could make spread faster. When she was confronted, Nesta had no problem lying to their faces again, or telling them exactly what she thought of them to their face. Whatever she preferred in the moment.

Elain was not like Nesta. Elain would return from school or the market, sit by the hearth on the floor, and spin her tales there. The words she spoke never left their house, not by her own voice anyway. She knew from Nesta's approving hums and nods that the next day, whatever Elain had spun would miraculously make it across the town. And she loved it.

Elain did not like consequences, and she did not like confrontation.

"We didn't say anything." She whispered. She dared not look up.

"That's funny, really," Cassian spoke to his brothers, "Nesta and Elain have decided that Y/N isn't good enough for us. For me."

"Oh, I wasn't aware that was up for them to decide, Cass."

"Neither did I, Rhys."

Azriel's face was still stony, "Would you like to tell the truth now?"

"Oh please, what we said wasn't that bad. The drama in your court is abysmal, Rhysand." The eldest Archeron bristled, "You'd think the royalty of the Night Court would have better things to do than gossip."

"Let me make one thing very clear. If I ever hear you speak ill of another member of my court again, it will be the last thing you ever do in this court." Rhys was not speaking as himself now. This was the High Lord. This was your High Lord. Undoubtedly and unapologetically loyal to you.

"Y/N is the best of us," Azriel spoke lowly, "I wouldn't expect you to understand, but you have misspoken and you've made a grave mistake. You will apologise profusely, and from this point on you will do everything you can to make this right."

Azriel left then, his long legs climbing the stairs and his footsteps following the familiar path straight to your room. Elain's face had fallen completely now, tears threatening to spill over her cheeks.

"We have known Y/N for the best part of 500 years. We have known the both of you for all of 5 minutes," Rhys' eyes bore into the sisters, "She has loved us and we have loved her for longer than you've been alive. You should be surprised that I haven't already dropped you at the border."

Rhys turned then to the door, his back facing the room.

"Do not let me hear of this again."

And with that, he followed Azriel up the stairs.

The Seer glanced between her sister and the General and took her opportunity to breathe a weak apology and immediately flee the room.

Typical, Nesta thought.

"Well, whatever you have to say, I suggest you get it out."

She was right. Cassian had been far too quiet. If he left his emotions unchecked any longer, he could very well do something he would regret. Well, he wouldn't regret it that much. But he'd like to avoid the grovelling he'd have to do to Feyre.

"My life is none of your concern," He began, "Who I take to bed is none of your concern and who I spend my time with is none of your concern."

Nesta rolled her eyes.

"What?" Cassian spat, "Would you rather I profess my undying love for you instead of her? You, who has shown me nothing but hatred and contempt since the moment we met. And Y/N who has spent 5 centuries giving me kindness and a home."

She wasn't looking at him anymore, completely silent as the Illyrian grew quiet again himself.

"She means everything to me. I have never and will never tolerate anyone who attempts to jeopardise what we have. Especially not you."

"What do you even see in her?" Cassian couldn't tell whether it was a jab or a genuine question. He didn't like either.

"All I see is her," A small smile, "All I think about is her. When I leave in the morning, I think about what she might choose to wear that day. And on the way home, I think about where I'll find her. Whether she'll be reading in the library, or teaching Az how to knit for the 50th time, or baking or bathing or singing."

He didn't pause to see Nesta's face shifting to shock.

"And when I do get back, the first face I want to see is Y/N's. To see her smile or hear her laugh. Most of the time I can't believe that I'm the bastard she chose to love. That I'm the one who gets to hold her every night."

Cassian made his move to leave, but just before he reached the doorway, he turned back to look Nesta in the eye.

"Y/N is the most beautiful, loving person I've ever met. I wonder sometimes how flowers don't grow on the grass she treads. You're lucky I haven't left you dead on the floor for the way you've spoken about her."

And as you listened on the stairs, your cheeks red and smile bright, you knew.

You knew that you didn't have to travel the universe to find someone who loves you. You didn't need to have a different body or a different mind to find someone who sees you.

Because Cassian was here, in this house, loving you and seeing you. For everything you are.

He loved you just as you were.

#acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #acotar #acotar smut #acotar fluff #cassian acotar #acotar x reader #acotar drabble #acotar oneshot #rhysand acotar #azriel acotar #cassian x you #cassian x reader #cassian imagine #cassian fluff #acotar angst

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 2 months

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routine vibe check: what’s the best starter pokemon and why are you right (pictures and long paragraphs of evidence welcomed and appreciated)

Gonna get a good grade in vibe check, normal to want and inevitable to achieve because I have objectively correct Pokemon opinions and will block naysayers

OKAY LET'S GO

I decided to do, like, a top 5 list or something, because I'm bad at picking a single favourite of stuff. And then even that overwhelmed me, so I found one of those tier ranking list sites and produced this:

It was done in less than a minute, so if I wanted to get really picky, I don't know if I would be fully wedded to it (not sure if maybe Sceptile should be one higher) BUT it did help to highlight the important ones.

So!

5. Bulbasaur

It's. Just. So. Nice.

Like you can find cooler, more beautiful, cuter, fancier... there's a whole bunch of ways for a Pokemon to be great. But you will never ever find a nicer Pokemon than Bulbasaur. It's so lovely. Look at it. Look at its face.

I can't put it higher, because the rest of the line is fairly bland in terms of development. It's good and logical and fun, don't get me wrong, but Ivysaur and Venusaur just look like bigger versions with More Flower and Less Cute rather than creatures in their own right. To be honest, if it weren't a starter requiring a three-stage evolution, you could do away with Ivysaur. Something I don't like about a lot of lazy three-step lines is that the middle step just looks like a transitional mid phase rather than a Proper Creacher, like they were artificially inflating the Pokemon number count. Meanwhile it took us until Paldea to get a Girafarig evo that would actually make the giraffe tall. Madness.

However my first ever Pokemon was a Bulbasaur I called Daffodil, and I have traded him forward onto every single successive generation since. He is, quite literally, my First Ever Pokemon. I love him desperately. I still have him. Not many people still have their First Ever Pokemon. But I do and I love him. So, Bulbasaur gets the fifth spot.

4. Snivy

Again, a victim of the Banal Transitional Middle Evo, but both Snivy and Serperior are incredible, and as Meatloaf took such pains to tell us, two out of three ain't bad.

But Snivy! It's so snooty! I was super lucky with mine, too, because I beat the 12.8% odds and got a female, and I loved her. Normally the initial baby starters are designed to be cute but Snivy has SO MUCH PERSONALITY, she's great. And the design of Serperior is utterly gorgeous. She keeps the expression, but rather than the Animal Crossing-style snooty-cute vibe of Snivy you get this thousand yard withering stare of an empress whose servant (you) has just turned up dripping mud in her throne room and asked her for money. Her green and gold colour scheme is exquisite. Her filigree design, including her high collar, give off the air of wealth and sophistication befitting her immaculate pedigree. And all this! In a simple snake. Incredible design work, 10 out of 10, no notes.

Begone, you miserable peasant. Have him boiled.

3. Torchic

Now I'll be real with you, lads, but Pokemon design hit its stride with Hoenn and then got better.

It's partly a fashion thing, of course - you look at some of the Kanto designs and they are remarkably 90s, because that's when the franchise launched. Others are clearly a product of what the 1990's were capable of producing in pixels on an already over-stretched cartridge medium. Like we like to clown on Red and Green/Blue now, but my god, those game designers performed a miracle with Pokemon. Every single square inch of space was used to make that game, and complex designs weren't going to cut it.

(With that said, there is still no excuse for Dragonite.)

And then Johto came about and its Pokedex sucks ass. It's mostly new evolutions for existing Kanto stars, useless babies to inflate the dex number, or poorly thought out single-evos like the inexplicably short Girafarig and the unacceptably dreary Dunsparce (our greatest thanks to Paldea for fixing both of those).

BUT THEN CAME HOENN (trumpets intensify)

And we get habitats! Biomes! A different regional climate, gifting us a brand new area of Pokecology! And therefore a brand new flush of creativity in Pokemon design across the board; less dated, and more inclined to be unique rather than a rehash of Kantonian stuff.

Which brings me nicely to this lad:

Now, I mean. Just look at him. Fucking hell. Cute starter stage, check. LOOK AT HIM FACE

AND THEN he became, at the time, a brand-new unique typing: Fire/Fighting. I realise that is now the norm for like, half of the Fire starters, but that's because of Torchic, actually. He was super popular. In fact if you ever play Ruby/Sapphire/Emerald and you do what my husband and I like to call a Mynci Dave run (use one Pokemon almost exclusively, meaning it gets all the experience points and therefore over-levels to a terrifying degree, allowing you to sweep the game; so named after the noble Primeape we first did this with, Mynci Dave), Torchic is the PERFECT Pokemon to choose, because almost everything is weak to either Fire or Fighting in that region.

Anyway, Combusken is, again, kind of mid (although props for the inverted colour scheme and the fact that it actually does look like a teenager.) But Blaziken, on the other hand... Blaziken is a six foot ninja chicken with wings for hair whose Pokedex entry describes it as able to leap tall peaks in a single bound, a feat it achieves after strengthening its legs by hoofing Geodudes down mountains like they're fucking footballs

Also an impressive bulge.

My first was called Gilgamesh, and he was fucking great. For a long time, this mad lad was my actual favourite Pokemon, not just starter. Brilliant. Love him. Five stars out of three. King.

2. Fuecoco

It would probably surprise you to know I've not actually used one. I chose Sprigatito, and I do really like Meowscarada, actually. But pretty anthro cat boys have been done in Pokemon quite a bit at this point; cats, dogs and rabbits are over-represented in terms of Poke-taxa. Possibly this is another reason for a toad, a snake and a chicken being 5, 4 and 3 so far (ooh, basilisk ingredients, I've just realised.) They're new and unusual! I like an Eeveelution as much as the next person, but they're a whole family of cat-dog-rabbits, like.

However.

Nintendo has tried its hand at Pokecrocodilians three times (Feraligatr, Krookodile, Skeledirge), and they have gotten so much better at design each time that the three of them are basically a scale proxy for ongoing design improvement. Look, I've made a diagram:

EXCEPT

(Strap in)

This one is that rare thing: a three step line that deserves to be a three step line. Let's talk Fuecoco first:

SO CUTE. It's charming, it's charismatic, it's adorable.

It also has hints of its evolutionary end goal, but not like an undeveloped middle evo. It likes singing. The white face hints at the eventual calavera, and it looks a bit like a lil chilli pepper - a ghost pepper, probably in reference to the eventual Fire/Ghost typing. But the colours and shape right now also look a bit reminiscent of a babygro, because this thing is a cute starter. Lookit them teefs. That tuft. Its lovely smile. Beautiful.

And then, at the point you expect it to turn into just the awkward teenage version of the adult, instead we get Crocator:

Oh boy. Oh there's so much to say. Okay okay:

The region it's from is based on Spain, but this thing is incorporating Hispanic elements from across the board. It's a mariachi in a sombrero, except the sombrero also looks kind of like a ring of Mexican marigolds and kind of like a Catalonian Easter cake called Mona de Pascua that has an egg (or egg-shaped confectionary) in the middle. Body shape and markings look kind of like a piñata. The white face is now on its way to a calavera, with the cheek and nostril markings more defined. And it sings, with its open mouth (also how crocodiles release heat, appropriate for a Fire type) and signified by the mariachi theme.

THAT IS A LOT.

And then it becomes Skeledirge. A Fire/Ghost crocodile.

Now the obvious design here is the calavera and the Día de Muertos theming, which is part of it. But there are also many examples of crocodile figures in Spanish folkloric ghost stories: the Catalonian Cocollona, the Lizard of Magdalena from Jaén, or the Drac de Na Coca, or even the Cuca - that one is Portuguese, but turns up in both Brasil and the Iberian Peninsula including in parts of Spain. It's got a Gaudi vibe (like Barcelona). It's got an alebrije vibe (like Mexico).

And the bird! Nile crocs have a cleaning symbiosis with Egyptian plovers; it also sits at the tip of the snout where male gharials have a sort of bulbous bit to help them make sounds (the singing thing).

But this is what the bird does when Skeledirge uses Torch Song:

youtube

It becomes a microphone, then grows in size and attacks the opponent in Phoenix form. Phoenix: Fire/Ghost. Resurrected from the ashes.

Quite simply, your fave could never.

5. Rowlet

My god. (My god)

gasp

Look at this lovely creacher. He is so round and so soft and so lovely. He looks like that baby Yoda meme. He looks like that cat that someone's landlord said they would make an exception for because he looks very polite. Look!!! At his lil bow tie!!! He is a smartly dressed young man and he is kind and he is... well, a bit vacant behind the eyes. A himbo, if you will. But he is all the better for that. What a lovely owl.

He looks a little like a barn owl, perhaps, and those were imported to Hawai'i, where Rowlet is from. But I think he looks a little like a Pueo owl, and given that he will eventually be a Ghost type, that seems right - pueos are one of the physical forms assumed by ʻaumākua in Hawai'ian culture, as I understand it.

And then, hang onto your tits, lads, because this is another banger - THE MIDDLE EVOLUTION IS ITS OWN DESIGN!!! (confetti cannons)

I said earlier that boring middle evos are like just awkward teenagers of the adults. Here, I present to you, a very deliberate Awkward Teenager, in Dartrix:

IT'S A DANDY

I love him I love him I love him

He plays with his fringe and if you touch it without permission he has a tantrum. God, he's so charismatic. Also, that fringe further suggests the pueo - they have pronounced outer rims around their facial disks like that. Look at his bow tie and tail coat. So smart and handsome

This one is so good that it could be the final evo. This is actually my issue with the Delphox line - Braixen is amazing, and then it becomes the bland boredom of Delphox. Braixen should have been the final stop. Here, Dartrix is much the same - good enough to be a high-quality end goal.

Where they differ is that Decidueye is better again.

IT SHOOTS ARROWS MADE OF ITS OWN QUILLS

Also, fun fact - This line is the only starter to change secondary typing. Dartrix is part Flying; but on evolving a second time into Decidueye, it switches to Grass/Ghost. In this evolution, it's definitely mostly a pueo, so the ʻaumākua reference is IN, but actually barn owls also have their associations with the dead in various cultures.

The crown of feathers around its head are also reminiscent of an ayaigasa - a hat worn by Japanese samurai archers. And yet! AND YET!

It still has its lil bow tie look. Bigger now, more of a cravat; but there it is.

A perfect Pokemon, and a perfect evolutionary line. No notes.

Anyway, thank you for this chance to waste three and a half hours writing this essay

#asks #pokemon #long post #gif

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blakbonnet · 5 months

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Hello! I was wondering if you had any Gentlebeard fanfic you would recommend on ao3? Ideally a nice slow-burn with a few chapters but honestly anything you like would be great - just on the search for more fics to digest. Thank you!

I'd recommend everything by @xoxoemynn and @darcylindbergh if you're looking for some very soft and in character, kinda awkward but also canon compliant, ed and stede ❤️ they've both got a ton of shorter works too. My favourite ofmd fics are:

Witness Marks (unhinged smut, horny clock boys)

Where the Daylight Begins (long but so so good, slow burn, I've read this one 4 to 5 times by now, magical realism and lovable crew on top of lovable ed and stede)

Roll for Charisma (so fluffy and some top quality pining, the plot of the show is their D&D campaign)

The Devil's Panties by @adickaboutspoons (sex pollen but make it so fluffy and earnest that my skin melted off my bones)

Separating Salt from Water by @nonagethimus (one of the tags is homoerotic shark hunting, enough said)

You Belong in that Home By and By (everyone wants Stede, but Stede only wants Ed)

Two Birds @red-sky-in-mourning (very gentle romance tinged with good angst but happy endings)

Grounded (fluffy smut, stede is something else in darcy's hands, no one gets him this right trust me)

Your Name Like a Boat (the angst oh my god this one still hurts, another one I've read a bunch of times and a very fulfilling ending)

The Kraken's Sacrifice @trinityofone (actual kraken ed and they're so soft and in love, this one is a bit out there but it's so interesting, i finished it in one sitting)

From Gloom to Grace @bizarrelittlemew (pollen but it makes them cuddle is there anything better)

Stealing Romance by @skrifores (I prayed for a realistic jealous ed fic and this one is it)

Little Wonder @ofmd-alsaurus (stede has a tiny dick, ed is really into it, it's funny and sweet)

Only by the Grace of the Sea @palavapeite (hot priest stede, incredible writing, slow burn)

Leggy Blonde You Got in Goin' On by @palavapeite (stede joins a gym, most in character stede I've read in this fandom)

And I'd 100% recommend my own fic 😬 Moonstone Mage Championship (slow burn, fantasy, idiots to lovers)

#asks #ofmd #ofmd fic recs #our flag means death #I don't read that many fics I mostly just reread the ones I like 🥲✌️#ofmd fic rec #blackbonnet

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noneorother · 7 months

Text

The grand unified theory of Good Omens S2, Hangs on a double meaning - Answering why .5 + .5 = 25 lazerii *The end?*

Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3 l Part 4 l Part 5 l The end?

Welcome to the end of the Bonkers Meta Series featuring your favourite Art Director/Clue detective. This is it! I'm going to wrap up this series as well as I can with what I think really happened, the final 15 and why Crowley says the things he says. Meta, Spoilers, Beware! All that. “Armageddon only happens once, you know. They don't let you go around again until you get it right.”

If you've read my Metatron post you'll know that I thought there were *at least* two time loops with tweaks to achieve different outcomes, seeing as we seemed to be presented with two versions of events a lot of the time, two similar lines of dialogue, double meanings for lines etc etc. If you want a really good recap of a lot of the Clues that have already been compiled already you can go through them here. Yesterday I added my own : The columns in front of the bookshop get stained by a demon, and the stain stays and goes. But why do we care?

Here's my final thesis using the context I'll put together below :

The Metatron is changing the past and the present on earth using the book of life. He's forced a time loop of the last few days at least 50 times over a period of (realtime) months to get the outcome he wants : the separation of Aziraphale and Crowley to allow him to complete the second coming. It only worked once. Let me explain.

1) Not time skips, but stitched loops

My theory about the columns goes like this : a demon touches the right column in the attack on the bookshop, and dirties it. The problem is, in every episode we get multiple versions of the column that are dirtier or cleaner. Why? Because a demon has been touching that column in *more or less* the same place and getting it dirty over time, but the effects on the bookshop only layer every loop and reset, instead of being erased. The layering aspect is super important and I'll get back to it. For now, if we take it that the column gets dirtier over many loops, we now know what we are seeing : a bunch of different time loops stitched together to create a sense of time moving forward in a way that we can understand the story, but that skip forward and backward through the loops. Cleaner column = earlier loop. Here's discussion about clock hands if you want evidence, some even saying the hour hand seems to be going backwards in the first episode or the last, or even that the minute and hour hands must be backwards to make sense. If we think of time skipping ever forward and actions getting deleted (as some have said), then clocks going backwards makes no sense. But if we think about it as a time loop where things and actions are ever being tweaked and changed, then OF COURSE the times won't make sense anymore. People don't show up at the same time if they don't do the same thing they did before. The biggest time discrepancies I've seen in a single scene are A) Crowley's phone and watch being an hour apart in S2E1 and B) Inside the bookshop between Gabriel's fly flashback in S2E6 and him and Beez holding hands, there's an hour difference on the clock. I think that by the time we get to very late loops, some things are happening up to an hour later in the day. A simple example we are shown up top is the Eccles cakes. They are there in the first part of S2E1, but then they are no longer there somewhere along the way. In the first loop we see an ordering action/receiving Eccles cakes action, which takes *longer* than just not doing that and going straight to the shop, so that loop will be slightly later. It gets infinitely more complicated the more loops you are looking at, and we have at least 50 of them. How do I know that?

2) A 25 lazerii miracle

If we know that effects on the bookshop are cumulative and don't reset (because columns), then let's try this idea on for size : Aziraphale and Crowley have been performing the same half miracles on the same spot for 50+* loops, and each times they are layering and getting stronger. .5 demon + .5 angel = .5 angelic miracle x 50*ish loops = 25 lazerii miracle goes off in heaven on the latest loop. Shax then confronts Crowley in his car about a mighty miracle, so we're in a loop here where we've layered quite a lot, but not the last loop because he still has the original glasses/ *but also* Crowley's sideburns are long. Compare it to the scene directly after, and how sunny and bright it is. We're in a later loop and and earlier loop simultaneously.

3) Crowley's been testing So I've been searching for a *reason* that Crowley wears a turtleneck in S2E2 and thren new glasses and changes sideburns, and he seems to be up to some pretty crafty spy stuff, seeing as 1) he seems thrilled by it, and 2) he won't shut up about it (How will our hero cope? Jane Austen, nasty piece of work, master spy) There's also this Clue :

Crowley has a secret, as we know everyone with their hands deliberately in their pocket does in the series. I think Crowley knows before Aziraphale that something is wrong, because he's getting little snippets of memory and feeling, and so he's going off to try and change things about himself, the Bentley and the shop to remind himself in the next loop and leave himself clues or change outcomes if he fails to escape. In the early loops it seems like a fun spy mission, but by the end he's pretty tired and jaded that he doesn't seem to be making any headway on his own.

It *also* explains him throwing books and canapés on the floor in the bookshop to see if it changes in other versions. The problem being that Gabriel keeps cleaning everything up and reorganizing the titles to Crowley can't tell if it's his system or not. (lolsob)

It makes this line seem like he can't fit the loop pieces together anymore, and is trying to make headway without any information, rather than a pre-fall reference.

And this line probably much later in the loops (New sunglasses, long sideburns) :

Okay so! To recap : Everyone gets reset every time, and they make different choices because of past and present edits. But, most heavenly and hellish things don't obey earth laws, and therefore things like miracles start layering, and memories start seeping through the loops. (Point 4 is optional but absolutely hilarious, so I'd like to think it's worth speculating about)

4. The flaw in The Metatron's plan

There's a huge flaw in The Metatron's plan however, and it's that Heaven and Hell don't work like earth does. He's spent so many loops trying to get the result he wants, that he doesn't know that something crazy is *also* happening in hell. Every loop, Shax is emptying out the legions of demons until they barely have enough low level lackeys to go up at all. Hell is understaffed because no new people come into hell in the loop from earth, and they're sending all the demons that aren't subject to the reset into battle. This isn't a negotiation, it's a montage.

So the attack on the bookshop isn't one attack, but waves, and the waves get less powerful each loop. Stitched loops would also explain why Shax now hands Crowley his mail again in the last attack after *just* handing it to him on the park bench, like, 4 days ago in an earlier loop.

I don't have evidence for this directly, but if The Metatron put Maggie together with Nina successfully only in the last few loops, then she's fighting in the bookshop only a few times, and doesn't invite the demons in any other times, which might be why the only evidence is the column, and not books being ruined. But, it might also explain why the demon Eric gets discorporated a bunch of times in a row, he's doing it later and later in each loop. (These are kind of contradictory thoughts, I know.)

5. Aziraphale realizes too late. When I wrote part 4 of this series I was pretty awed by the fact that Aziraphale managed to figure out the Metatron was rewriting things after only hearing him say ONE LINE of dialogue. However after more thought, I think that he's been getting close to the truth a bunch of times by communicating with Crowley in previous loops. In each successive loop he tells Crowley later and later, and it's been getting them reset as punishment each time they figure it out together. By the end they barely communicate at all, because they can feel the danger. Watch his reaction here, in what we can assume is a *very late or last loop (because of the time on the clock)*

He stops himself from interrupting and telling Crowley something important he's just realized : that he's seen Gabriel and Beez get together before. "I know what this means..." 6. Saraqael is helping both sides without them knowing We see Saraquael helping Crowley immediately with the trial when she finds him in heaven. Why would she help Crowley without having ever met him before as a demon? The exchange of "Crowley I remember you, we worked on the Hosehead nebula together" and "I meet a lot of people, (*he doesn't say* I don't remember you)" is a code. They are both trying to communicate what they remember like spies on a bench in St.James park. Who recognizes who, who's trying to stop this madness. Maybe once Crowley gets to heaven this time he's seen multiple trials with multiple endings, and Saraquael has seen them too, I don't really know. BUT she's also communicating with Aziraphale at one point. Look at Saraqael in this scene again about the 25 lazerii miracle. She *remembers the book slap* and then the *looks* at Aziraphale in regards to Gabriel.

Yeah Gabriel, IT NEVER F*&?%ING WORKS IN ANY LOOP SO STOP DOING IT. - Saraquel, probably. Are Saraqael and Aziraphale testing later/earlier in the loops as well? Is this when the miracle was weaker? Who knows! 7. The Metatron job offer was many, many offers

It's really hard to tell with all the pieces of the puzzle moving around, but I think I can count 7 job refusal loops by Aziraphale in the last fifteen minutes. Here's a summary 1) Chinwag with Crowley in the room 2) We should go for a walk instead, here's a coffee 3) You don't have to answer immediately 4) Go tell you friend the good news (This is the important one), it's the last one where he tries to convince Crowley to come with him 5) I need to take care of my bookshop 6) The Metatron puts Muriel in charge of the bookshop, but Aziraphale wants to take something with him 7) Aziraphale straight up runs out to Crowley with "I think I-" 4, again) The Metatron takes him out of the bookshop. "Ready to start"?

Trying to screenshot all that would be insane, so just go rewatch it with all this in mind, and look at how the lighting changes inside of the bookshop and the jump cuts to different angles, and how his face resets every time. It's HEARTBREAKING. 8. The argument

I'm so blown away by the acting and writing (as well as the art direction) in this show, and it all comes to a head in the final argument. Many important lines have double meanings in series 2, because everyone is trying to speak in secret code to not get caught. Especially in the final loops.

In the last loops, we have an Aziraphale who is moving ever closer towards accepting the Metatron's offer, with the straw that broke the camel's back being he could restore Crowley as an angel**/save him; and Crowley who is moving ever farther away, by having to hide all of his Clue gathering, and confiding less and less to Aziraphale in each loop.

Check out the double meanings going on in this whole exchange if you consider that they are trying to save each other using secret codes neither one of them can hear. It's so shattering. Especially when you consider they've probably made it to this argument at least twice, and Crowley convinced him the first time. Why do I say that, you ask? 9. No Nightingales

Because I think Crowley remembers a loop where A Nightingale Sang was playing when they kissed, and Aziraphael didn't leave, but he knows they aren't in that version anymore. 10) I'm a demon, I lied. I'll probably post more abut the secondary characters because Shax, Furfur, Michael, Uriel and Nina etc all have roles to play, but for now, this is it.

----------------------------------------- Thanks so much for reading the gigantic post. If you disagree with my thoughts, or think this is terribly wrong, that's totally fine! I won't be offended. Without a real season 3, everything is just ether. Fingers crossed. I'd also like to thank The Ineffable Detective Agency, @embracing-the-ineffable, @cobragardens, @indigovigilance, @yowlthinks and more for inspiring me and feeding my brain with posts. *Loop numbers could actually be 25+ if you think that .5 demon mircales + .5 angelic miracles pour register as 1 whole miracle in heaven, I just didn't want to go into that in the main review. **The Metatron's meddling in the past seems to me trying very much to highlight to Aziraphale how *good* and righteous Crowley is, despite being a demon, in order to convince Aziraphale that joining him in heaven is a real possibility, and he should push for it.

#good omens meta #art director talks good omens #go season 2 #good omens prime #good omens season two #go meta #go2 #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #go3 #good omens spoilers #stitchedloop #good omens season 3 predictions

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mandomaterial · 10 months

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Miguel when you get turned into a child

This popped into my head and i couldn’t resist writing it! || Masterlist

So first of all it was all an anomaly’s fault, some crazy scientist that shot you with some kind of ray and it turned you into a child almost instantly, the thing was that your memories also reverted to childhood. So there you were, Miguels cute ass girlfriend turned into an even cuter kid. At first Miguel was unsure how to act, but he decided to finish off his enemy and then come pick you up. So he just shot you a calming look saying, “Stay here okay? I’ll be right back.” And back he was. He picked you up and sat you on his hip, opening a portal with his other hand. It looked like you were a bit shy as a kid so he tried getting you to open up to him by asking easy questions. The first one being obvious “Hey,.. do you remember me?” You shook your little head and averted your eyes, a bit scared of what just happened. “Um okay, well then I’ll tell you,” he tried to describe your relationship as something other than romantic “I care for you very much and you like me a lot as well, I’ll take care of you until everything is back to normal, okay?” He knew that kids liked being involved in decisions so that’s just what he did, he asked your opinion and you nodded, feeling a little more confident and looking at him. “So what’s your favourite color?” Miguel asked a bunch of simple questions wich you answered with glee every time!

After explaining what happened to his team he proceeded to take you home, to his large penthouse, but not before stoping at a toy store, that you had seen on the way. So now he was standing next to your small form, looking at the different stuffed animals. Up until now, he had carried you up and down the isles, showing you everything that there was to see, he told you that you could pick one thing for being so brave today and he quickly found out that stuffier were your favourite. Miguel suddenly felt a tug on his pants, pulling his attention to you “I- i think I wan that oneee” you pointed up, your little tongue had a little trouble pronouncing some words and Miguel thought that he was gonna die from your cuteness, he smiled and picked you up again, lifting you to the top shelf “Wich one?” You leaned forward almost falling out of his arms, wrapping your little fingers around a brown bunny with a little bow round it’s neck. “Woah, there sweetie, don’t fall off okay?” You nodded softly hugging your bunny “m’kay”. He paid for the toy and sat you back in the car, making sure you buckle your seatbelt.

It was already pretty late so he wasn’t surprised when he found you dozing in the back seat cuddled up to your bunny. The two of you weren’t home yet, Miguel had to make another stop at a child’s clothing store for you. He carefully picked you up from the leather seat, sitting you in his right arm, leaning your head against his shoulder, making sure that you were still sleeping, your tiny snores tickling his ear. He went over to the preschool section and picked out anything that caught his eye, for all he didn’t know how long you were going to stay this size. Wich a bunch of colourful shirts and pants in his basket he walked over to the checkout. The woman there cooed at you “Aww isn’t she just a darling, tired out from a day of fun with dad huh?” Miguel just smiled, agreeing with her and paying for the clothes.

Now with nothing left to do he drove the two of you to his place, parked in the driveway, walked over to the elevator and rode it up to the top floor. You’re ere a comfortable weight in his arms, sleeping on his chest. He brought his hand up to your back and patted you a little, his large hand almost as wide as the small of your back, he cuddled you a bit and to be honest he did it more for himself than you, you were just too a adorable!

Once in his apartment he quickly laid you down on his large soft bed, giving you the softest pillow so that your neck wouldn’t hurt in the morning, he covered you with the blanket and watched you snuggle and nuzzle your rabbit. A little later, after finishing a bit more work he got ready for bed as well. He crashed into bed, rolling over onto his side, when he suddenly felt something small wiggle against his side, he looked down and saw you, fast asleep and comfortable against his warm muscle. Miguel laid one of his arms around your small body and cuddled closer, falling asleep with.

Early next morning he was awaken by something crawling over him and sitting on his chest, suddenly he was shaken away with tiny hands, that barely even moved him. Miguel sat up pulling you with him, “Good morning Cariño” he stroked his fingers through your messy hair carefully untangling it “are you hungry?” “Uh-Uh! Yeah! I wan bweakfast!” You yelled with your cute high pitch voice.

Miguel got up and out of bed, carrying you over to the kitchen, sitting you down on top of the island. He then turned around grabbed a couple fruits and started juggling them, giving you a little show. You on the other hand squealed and giggled in utter joy. Miguel carefully threw an apple at you, wich you caught with two little hands. After that little fun, he started cutting the fruit into little animals, the apple into bunnies, the orange into a snail and the pear into little butterflies. You soft hands clapped in amusement and your smile only grew as you squealed. He put the fruit on a plate and gave you a small cup of fruit yogurt as well. As you ate he started brushing your hair and once it was untangled he parted it in two and started braiding. In the end your hair was beautifully styled with little bows at the ends of your braids.

Miguel decided that he would take a day off work to spend it with you, how could he resist you after all? He took you to the park to play and feed ducks, when it was time for lunch he took out the lunchboxes from his car and sat at a park table with you, helping you cut into your fried chicken with rice, while you were eating he felt your small hand wrap around two of his fingers, showing him that you cared about him. This was still something you did when you were normal and now he’d seen first hand that its a childhood habit, wich just makes it even more adorable.

#miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara #miguel x you #miguel ohara x reader fluff #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #Miguel O’hara fluff #Miguel x child reader #Miguel O’hara x child reader #Miguel x cute reader #Miguel ohara fluff

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heich0e · 2 years

Text

There's a knock on your door at 3:30PM on the dot.

It's a Sunday, and you're not expecting company, so you're more than a little confused at who could be coming calling.

Even more so when you open the door to sea of colour right before your eyes.

"Uh," --you step back slightly, eyes scanning over scene before you. They're flowers, you quickly realize, in abundance, in virtually every colour you could ever imagine and more--"hello?"

"I don't,"--you hear Shouto grunt a little, shifting two of the bouquets in his arms so his face peeks out from between a bunch of white hydrangeas and an overflowing bundle of red roses,--"I don't know your favourite flower."

He looks concerned, his brow pinching and his lips pursed, like the thought troubles him.

You gape.

"Shouto, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be on patrol?"

He shifts his arms again, and a bouquet of gerberas becomes visible in the crook of his elbow--sunny yellow against the dark blue of his jacket, thrown on overtop of his uniform though it doesn't do much to disguise it.

"I finished early. And I wanted to bring you flowers."

"You brought me a garden, Sho," you say, enthralled and alarmed all at once. You reach out and take three bouquets of blooms from his overflowing arms in an attempt to help, but somehow it doesn't seem to lighten his load at all--like the flowers have multiplied as quickly as you took some away.

You nod behind you, urging him to follow you into your apartment, which he does diligently.

"Well, I didn't know which ones were your favourites."

"So you said," you mutter, setting the three bundles of flowers you carried in atop your kitchen counter. Carefully, Shouto follows suit, placing his armload down slowly as to not damage the fragile stems and blossoms.

Your counter is piled high by the time the last bouquet has been deposited, the delicate scent of flowers slowly filling your apartment.

"This is... a lot," you breathe, as your eyes rake over the hoard. You peek at Shouto from the corner of your eye, and find him staring right at you, seemingly unconcerned with the veritable Eden he's emptied into your tiny kitchen.

"I upset you yesterday," he says slowly, like he's spent time planning out the words meticulously, "and I wanted to apologize. The internet said flowers are a good way to do so, but I don't know which ones are your favourite."

He'd missed dinner plans with your parents the night before. You'd spent the entire meal worried about where he might have been, what may have been keeping him, whether or not he was safe--only to find out he'd lost track of time filling in paperwork at his agency, and forgotten about the meal all together.

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

"Shouto, that doesn't mean you had to clear out the entire flower shop."

"But I wanted to make sure I got you your favourite. So that you knew I was sorry."

You sigh.

"You could have just said it, silly."

Shoto blinks, like he hadn't thought of that.

"Oh."

Shouto's great at what he does, what he knows: being a pro hero, saving people, doing what's right. But he's new to this, you realize. New to being a boyfriend. New to having to be mindful of another person's feelings. New to apologizing.

"I'm sorry."

All at once you feel like you might laugh and cry. He says it so sweetly. So sincerely. So earnestly.

He hasn't taken his eyes off you since the moment you let him though the door.

"I accept your apology, Sho," you say, stepping towards him and wrapping your arms around his waist. "I wasn't even that upset, there will be other dinners."

"I was worried," he murmurs into the top of your hair, his arms holding you tight against him. "I know it was important to you. I know that you worry."

You pull yourself away, though he only allows you far enough that you can lift your head to look at him. His cheeks are pink as you peek up towards his face.

"Well, it's not like I could stay mad when you show up at my door with my favourite flowers, could I?" you ask, a little smile playing at your lips.

He smiles too, bright and eager, pride swimming behind the mismatched hues of his eyes. "Which ones are they?"

"Peonies," you say, pressing yourself to him once more and burrowing your face against him. "The pink ones at the top of the pile."

Shouto hugs you tight. "I like those ones too."

"Yeah?" you ask, laughing into the blue material stretched across his chest.

"Yeah," he agrees, "I think I have more of them in the car, too."

Your head pops up in shock.

"There's more?"

#shouto x reader #shouto x you #shouto todoroki #pro hero shouto #shouto todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki x you #bnha writing #bnha drabble #writing #todoroki x reader

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cloudywriting05 · 4 months

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what Coryo do with one wife rebel? When she look what happening with districts and she will so angry. Coryo yandere please 🙏

my second suggestion ever! 🫀

Coriolanus is already yandere. in the book, he’s obsessive and compulsive. I’ll amp up those aspects and make him a psycho! I’ll make this one shorter and sweet.

the perfect girl → coriolanus snow

→ peacekeeper!coriolanus, yandere!coriolanus

→ word count: 1833

→ summary: Coriolanus becomes infatuated with you instantly, but poeple threaten your future with him– in his eyes, atleast.

Coriolanus had his mind made up about how he felt about you from the moment he saw you.

Walking through the main area of district 12, he spotted your small frame behind a small wooden stand that spelt: FRESH FLOWERS. Your dark locks fell down your back, red ribbons tied on either side. He vividly recalled his body halting at the sight of you, your skin warm, he’d never seen anything like it in the Capitol. Your cheeks red and full of life, lips the colour of a tulip. Through the herds of people, you saw him staring at you, initially worried, you shot a smile feebly; scared he was going to hurt you. Coriolanus stood idly, wondering how anyone this beautiful was in the districts with the other rats and beggars.

Your breath staggered as he approached your stand, horrified. He stopped at the very front and smiled at you. “Can I help you, Mr Peacekeeping Sir?”

Your greeting threw him off guard completely, “Yes, can I buy a flower? I am in awful in need of one for some peculiar reason,” his eyes peered down at your chest and back up at your eyes, “if my vision wasn’t so clear I would’ve mistaken you for a flower, dear.”

You choked back a small laugh, was he flirting with you? He was very attractive, tall, and strong, you thought. His shoulders were broad, framed well by his uniform. His hair buzzed and bright blonde, his eyes the colour of your favourite lake near your home. You began to scan your stand for what type he may have liked, desperately wanting to impress him. “What kind of flowers do you like? Do you have a certain favourite? If I don’t have your favourite what’s your favourite colour, or look?”

“I like how you look; you would be enough.”

You laughed nervously, “I don’t know if it’s allowed, or if you can just take people like that, I think...”

“I’m just joking with you, doll. I’d like a rose.”

You snatched a rose from the fresh bunch and stuck your hand out to him. He took the rose from your hand and placed it on top of your right ear. He looked at your stunned face, your cheeks glowing a deeper red. You both stood quietly for a moment, the sound of people around filling the silence.

“It’s a dime for one, sir… but since you’ve put it on my ear, I don’t exactly know what to do next.”

“Here,” he fished in pocket for coins and put it on your stand, around thirty of them. “Take these.”

“Really?” you almost squealed, this would be enough for food for the next week or so alone.

“Not for free, I want to see you again. That’s the price.”

“You have a deal, Mr Peacekeeper, sir.”

“It’s just Coriolanus, my dear, just Coriolanus,” he stuck his hand through the stand and ran it down your hair, “I’ll see you here again, soon, I hope.”

And so, he did, day after day, week after week. Stopping and speaking to you whenever he had the chance. You two had so much in common you both silently thought it was fate. Coriolanus’s sudden obsession with you had taken a toll on his duties, he was almost always smiling. You didn’t know he was Lucy Gray’s mentor, and he didn’t plan on letting you know. He was in complete bliss knowing your district couldn’t afford TV.

Your relationship grew closer within the matter of months. Spending time with each other outside your duties. Spending a night with him at your family’s cottage behind the fields, a night filled with laughter, and sex. You grew hopeful for what he was going to bring to your life, he was like an angel, you thought.

You stood at your stall again, selling flowers as per usual. But this time a young man had approached you; he was also attractive. “Hey, sweetie.”

“Hi…. Flowers?” You asked, motioning towards the display.

“Come on, you’re too pretty to be standing around here. Say, what’re you doing after this?”

“I am… going to the lake, why?”

“Let me join you, we could have fun?” he asked, your heart began to thump profusely. Worried for your safety. You were meant to meet with Coriolanus, the same way you had been for the past weeks. He wouldn’t like this at all, you thought.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I want to.” you spoke. The boy’s facial expression dropped, the disappointment in his face evident.

“Whatever, Miss.” he said, stalking off. You let out a deep sigh, relieved.

You began fixing up your stand. What you hadn’t noticed was Coriolanus, who had seen your entire interaction with that boy. Saying he was seething was an understatement. The scrawny boy dared to talk to his woman, his doll. Coriolanus desperately tried to control his anger, taking deep breaths in and out, whatever method he could think of to control his urge to break your stand and kill that boy.

That night Coriolanus never stopped by, upset, you went to sleep. The truth was he had stalked the boy from the stall down, catching him off guard at the water stand. Coriolanus didn’t waste a moment and began beating the boy, who was utterly confused.

“Why are you crying?” He yelled, clutching the boy’s hair, and slamming it into the water stand, the sound of his nose breaking echoed.

“I don’t know who you are! Stop! Please!”

“Why the fuck should I? I hate obstacles. You made her smile; you are an obstacle. You know what I do to obstacles?” the boy, beaten bloody, shook his head. Coriolanus grabbed a large rock from beside him and raised it above his head. “I get rid of them.”

He slammed the rock into the boy’s skull, killing him instantly. The most complex thing was, Coriolanus did not know of your conversation with this boy. Although he had made a move on you, he wasn’t aware of that. All Coriolanus saw was you smile at him briefly. He couldn’t have that, no way, not at all.

He felt rejuvenated, almost redeemed. Cleaning himself off he went to his bed and slept well.

News spread of the sudden murder of that boy; Coriolanus was ironically tasked with apprehending whoever did it. Elated while he raided and beat others in the pursuit. Accusing others of his wrongdoings, he felt invincible. He however was missing you, what were you up to? He thought. He decided to stop by your home and speak to you.

Crouching down near your front window, he peered in on the obvious argument. “We must blow it up, no looking back, okay? Sejanus. I don’t want to have to leave you out of this plan.”

Sejanus? Why on God’s earth was Sejanus in your home, he thought. Once again, Coriolanus fought the raging urge to break the door down and shoot him. Seething, he listened in longer.

“Listen, if we do this. The Capitol can’t ignore us, at all, I don’t wanna hurt anyone though,” Sejanus said.

“We won’t, Sej. Okay?”

“Alright.”

You were a rebel? This couldn’t be, thought. You were his angel, his perfect girl, everything he had ever dreamed of in the Capitol, in a body. He wasn’t going to lose you, especially to Sejanus. He was so angry he could strangle you, why were you throwing your life away? To defend the beggars of the districts? It washed over him that you were never different to anyone in the district, you were the same. Dirt poor, and a beggar. But you were so beautiful he’d been blinded; still Coriolanus refused to lose you. He could change you. You could be a Capitol girl; you could be his Capitol girl.

He’d been dreaming of it every night since he’d met you. He would take you to the Capitol and wed you, you could be great;he could make you great. You couldn’t see that, and it drove him insane, you constantly yapped about how much you loved district 12. It repulsed him. He needed you though and he refused to leave you here.

He devised a plan. A plan so malevolent that he hesitated to go through with it although it ultimately had to be done.

And so, it was.

A day or two passed and you hadn’t seen or heard from neither Sejanus nor Coriolanus. You were notified about the public hanging of two men in the district and were woken up early to attend. The crowd gathered around the hanging tree and waited nervously for the revelation of the two perpetrators. Commander Hoff emerged onto the platform, guarded by six peacekeepers. Your eyes widened as you recognised a uniformed Coriolanus, glowering at you. Uncomfortable under his gaze for the first time ever, your eyes shot away and at Hoff.

“Today, is a very joyous day for Panem. We have found the person both responsible for the murder of young Arthur Alden, and conspiring of the rebel bombings in the Capitol,” his voice boomed.

The crowd gasped as commotion stirred behind you, you span to be greeted with a sight that would stay engraved in your brain forever. A bloodied Sejanus being dragged by two peacekeepers. Your heart dropped. Sobbing unconsolably, you gripped your chest, watching Sejanus being dragged to the front. Coriolanus revelling at the sight of your tears. This is how you had to learn; this is the only way.

“I am very disappointed to say that the person in question is Capitol and noble background; Sejanus Plinth is hereby sentenced to death for treason.”

“I didn’t do anything! Please! Coriolanus? Y/N? Please!”

“God! Help him! Sejanus!” you cried while running out to the front of the platform. The peacekeepers rushed to your side, prying off and away. “No! Sejanus!”

“Please!” Sejanus cried out, the peacekeeper wrapping the noose around his neck showing no mercy.

Coriolanus watched you, thrashing yourself around, yelling. He thought to himself that his plan of framing Sejanus could not have gone any better. No more obstacles. You struggling to free yourself from the peacekeepers, your cries; these were all signs. Signs you were disciplined, that you have learned. The crowd muttering in horror, Lucy Gray among them watching in terror.

“Coryo! Please! Y/N! No!” he screamed. You watched as the platform retracted, his body dropping; his neck snapping instantly.

His body flailed around until it went limp. You stopped thrashing against the peacekeepers and dropped to the floor. You let out a shriek so deep the entire district seemed to silence itself. Coriolanus rejoiced at the sight of the dead obstacle.

He wanted you to know that this was all for you, to pick you off the floor and kiss you. He would move mountains for you and bring the world to your feet. Kill and lie for you repeatedly, nothing gets in the way of him and his tulip.

Not now, not ever.

FIN

#the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosbas #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #snow lands on top

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margoshvets · 1 month

Text

Redesign / Alliance fit for Theron!

I was kinda sad that our husband didn't get a new design like our wife Lana did, so I decided to try to make something nice for him✨

Not that I don't like his original design. I just wanted to try something different.

(I got too tired drawing, so that's why he doesn't have a face XD)

I'll be describing some details of this design below if anyone is interested to read about them!

A little bit of warning. There is some headcanon / fanon stuff here, and, also, the opinion on some stuff is just my opinion, and you don't have to agree with me. Please don't be too harsh to me. I just wanted to have fun UwU

For the lower part of his body, I mostly got rid of a bunch of details, like the blue stripes on his pants, to make it simpler (in contrast with the upper part, which has some interesting stuff going on).

Got rid of those hanging things on his belt cuz they seemed pretty redundant, and I couldn't think of what they could be used for. Belt, in general, is more simplified. As a cherry on top, he now has the alliance symbol on it ✨

I added the metal thing, which I like to call "magnetic plate", on his right leg, and it's basically for carrying stuff like his datapad, keys, Eternal Fleet ashes, etc.

(I do remember seeing a similar thing in imperial designs, but I'm not sure what it's called)

Since he relies on tech a lot, he now has a fancy new toy - the glove on his left hand! Very useful thing for operating stuff and also hacking!

Remember that scene when we get our ship back, and Theron just presses something on his very regular glove? I always found it amusing. Not it will make more sense since he now actually has a suitable glove for this kind of action XD

[the scene in question]

He now hides his blasters inside his jacket (hence the belts on his upper part).

The jacket is a pretty memorable part of his design. It looked really good with a yellow color, but it's hard to imagine him wearing a jacket that isn't red.

I have to admit that a lot of new stuff in that thing was added based only on my headcanons. Mostly because I wanted to add an interesting story to it.

(A little bit of explaining is in order) Theron is a chilly person; he often feels like it's cold even if the room temperature is normal. Tauntauns are also his favourite animals.

This jacked is a gift from a very dear person to him. They knew all that and that's why they gifted Theron a warm jacket made with Tauntaun's fur (no tauntaun was harmed in making this jacket).

That person is no longer alive, but he still holds on to this jacket like it's his second skin; it's very important to him.

Anyway, the white parts of the jacket are now fur. And the fur inside only extends to shoulders (having natural fur already sounds too expensive for a republic soldier salary it was bought with). It's still warm tho. Sleeves have fur only at the ends and have zippers so that they can be easily folded back.

This jacket also can be closed (sounds kinda pointless stating the obvious, but in comparison with his original jacket, to me at least, makes sense cuz I can hardly imagine the original one closing).

Almost forgot.

A turtleneck for Theron. It just makes sense.

#star wars the old republic #star wars #sw art #swtor #swtor art #theron shan #swtorlightlegacy

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tomssexdoll · 7 days

Note

okay so y/n asks 2009-2010 tom to go to a party with her friend but tom doesnt allow, so she goes there secretly. at the end of the party tom waits y/n with his black lambo looking real mad and then he fucks her real hard because she basically escaped (do this like real rough and mean) (ONLY IF U WANT TO BTWW!!)😭

yess!

Brat taming

PAIRINGS: Tom 2010 x Female reader CONTENT: ANGST + SMUT + FLUFF SYPNOSIS: Y/N wants to go to a friends birthday party but Tom knows that there will be a bunch of guys there and ones that he really didn't like. Y/N is really upset but decides to play it cool so she can sneak out later, she wasn't going to miss her friends birthday cause of Tom. A/N: AHHH WARNINGS: dom!tom, sub!reader, p in v (missionary), rough fingering, overstimulation, degrading

"Hey Tom, I'm going to my friends party tonight" I approached him as he cooked us lunch, he furrowed his eyebrow "which friend?" turning his head to face me, "casandra" I smiled and hugged his waist from behind.

He grunted, "the one who knows every single guy I hate" I rolled my eyes "Tom it's fine, they probably won't be there" he turned around and towered over me "no, you aren't going, I know what she's like and I know what those guys are like" he growled lowly.

"Tom! That's not fair it's her birthday!" I whined, he grabbed my arm softly "I said no, nothing you say will convince me, sit down and eat" he sighed.

I hesitated for a second but obliged, he was right, nothing would convince him, but that doesn't mean I don't have other ways. I kept my cool so he wouldn't suspect me of doing anything later in the night.

After dinner we cleaned up and watched a movie, I tried to make everything as smooth as possible and texted casandra my plan, we had decided that 12am would be the best time for me to arrive and that I'd call an uber.

As the movie finished I acted sleepy, slouching on him. I felt his arms wrap around me and lift me up, "time for bed baby.." he chuckled and carried me to the bed, plopping me on there and coming up behind me, spooning me tightly. "Goodnight..." I mumbled, my facade working perfectly.

"Goodnight baby girl, sleep well" he kissed the top of my head, nuzzling his face into my neck.

As Tom layed asleep, I slowly peeled his arms off me, getting up from the bed and slipping on the dress I had hid beside the bed. He slowly woke up, tossing and turning "mm, baby where are you going.." he mumbled.

I cursed under my breath and turned to face him, luckily it was dark so he couldn't see the outfit I was in right now. "Just going to the bathroom baby go back to sleep.." I whispered and walked into the bathroom, quickly doing my makeup and hair.

As I opened the door I heard Tom softly snoring, I sighed, feeling a bit guilty but knew I had to go to this party, after all it was my friends birthday.

I slowly walked to the window, opening it quietly and jumping out. There was grass on the bottom so it didn't make a lot of noise, then I quickly slipped my heels on and ran off, jumping into my uber.

I arrived at her house, music blasting from the inside, vibrating the ground. I stepped inside and greeted casandra, handing her a bottle of vodka I had stopped to get on the way as a present. She smiled brightly and kissed my cheek, running to her bedroom and stashing it there. As she came back she hugged me, "oh thank you so much that is my favourite brand of vodka" I chuckled "yeah I knoww, but why did you lock it away, aren't you gonna drink it tonight?" she scoffed "no way! That is special and it's expensive so I'm keeping it for myself" she tapped my chin teasingly, I smiled and apprecited what she'd done.

As the night strung along, I had 3 cocktails and 4 shots, I was pretty drunk but not too drunk and decided to leave it at that, I wanted to talk with people and have fun, not be blackout drunk and possibly get kidnapped.

I talked to multiple people, some of the guys Tom hated weren't that bad, they were respectful and really nice. The conversation never turned sexual and always focused on goals and achievements.

TOMS POV:

I woke up to a cold breeze hitting me, confused, thinking I had left the window open. I went to get up but realized Y/N wasn't in bed with me, I remember her getting up for the toilet but that was ages ago..wasn't it?

I checked the time and it was 4am, I got up and checked the bathroom, nothing, the kitchen, nothing, the living room, nothing.

Then it sparked and I realized what she had done, I shouldn't of fell for it, she acted too calm about the situation. Usually she'd get really upset and argue with me about it for hours but she was pretty accepting of it.

I rubbed my temples in frustration, anger coursing through my body. "For fuck sakes..she's in so much fucking trouble" I grunted and grabbed my keys, slamming the front door and getting into my car, speeding off to this shitty party.

Y/NS POV:

At this point the party was pretty much finished, everyone was either passed out in various spots around the house or had gone home. I decided to go outside and have a cigarette with the guy I was talking to. We talked about high school and all the stupid things we did.

As I was taking a drag of my cigarette I suddenly heard crackling sounds, screeching of tires filling the air, I rolled my eyes and assumed it was some stupid teenagers doing burnout, but I listened more closely, a small squeeking noise, the noise that hit too close to home.

A sound that would only come from Tom's car, my eyes widened as I realised I had been caught, there was no way I was going to be able to walk tomorrow. I thought I successfully got away with it.

I watched as Tom's car came to a halt, his dark figure emerging from the car and storming over towards me. When the light illuminated his face I saw the pure rage and disgust in his eyes, his fists clenched at his sides and his chest heaving up and down.

"Why the fuck did you sneak out" he yelled "and why the fuck are you with him?" he scoffed, mocking the guy. He just rolled his eyes and walked off, giving me a 'goodluck' look.

"I knew you weren't going to be convinced with anything I said so I took matters into my own hands" I said non chalantly, shrugging my shoulders. I saw anger flash in his eyes, he grabbed my arm roughly "I'm not fucking dealing with your attitude, wait till we get home" he growled lowly, dragging me to the car.

No matter how angry he was, Tom never ever hit me, not a single finger or anything. He wasn't so rough with me to the point where I was bruised or hurt. Yes, he can be rough at times but the thought of hurting me has never crossed his mind.

He shoved me in and got into the drivers seat, starting the car and speeding off back home. I slouched in my seat, "I wasn't going to miss my friends birthday party because you don't approve of a group of guys, they weren't even bad, they were so nice to me" crossing my arms, his grip tightened on the wheel, his jaw clenching roughly.

"Shut up, you dont know what they're capable of" he pulled into the driveway, I got out of the car and slammed the door, walking inside the house. I set down my things on the couch and sat down, sighing deeply. My head was throbbing from all the alcohol, Tom emerged into the room and looked down at me "go to the bedroom and strip, now" he demanded, his tone cruel and dark.

I scoffed "no, I'm going to sit here and watch a movie and then go to bed" he chuckled angrily and grabbed me, pulling me closer to him. He towered over me, looking at me threateningly "do as your told or you won't be able to walk at all tomorrow" I sighed in defeat and walked upstairs, stepping into our shared bedroom, taking my dress off.

I threw it to the side and clipped my bra off, sliding my panties off, disposing of those too. I sat on the bed and waited for him, nervous and excited for what awaited me.

I heard Toms heavy footsteps coming closer, he stormed into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. "Always acting like a fucking brat" he walked towards me, pulling me up and smashing his lips into mine, I moaned into the kiss, giving him access to shove his tongue into my mouth.

Our tongues fought for dominance, his hand sliding down to my ass and giving it a harsh smack, I yelped and pulled away. His head buried into the crook of my neck, kissing and sucking harshly, leaving marks everywhere, "you're mine.." he growled, pushing me onto the bed harshly, climbing on top of me and loosening his belt, taking his pants off in a hurry, rage still filled in his eyes.

"Can't even listen to me, you have to act out" he reached out and grabbed my thighs pulling them closer towards him, I felt his clothed erection press against my aching pussy, "mm..please.." I mumbled, begging for his cock.

He grabbed my hair roughly, tugging on it, "don't be impatient, or you'll get nothing" he spat, I whined as I watched him pull his cock out. It stood tall, throbbing and super veiny.

"You're going to take it like the fucking slut you are, ok?" he demanded, grabbing my chin roughly to face him, I nodded and bit my lip, feeling his tip tease my entrance.

I knew I couldn't complain, all I had to do was sit there and painfully wait for his massive cock to punish me. "Oh fuck!" I cried out as he shoved half of his length in, my pussy resisting his cock. He grunted and grabbed my hips, digging his nails into them and leaving deep marks on the skin, trying to push himself in more.

"Fucking hell" he groaned, spitting on his hands and rubbing it onto the rest of his cock, slowly pushing in and fitting all of himself in me. I felt super full, unable to even think.

"Fuck.." I whispered my head lolling back, he chuckled evily, retracting his cock and slamming it back in, creating a brutal pace, his tip instatly hitting my g spot, abusing it.

"Ah! Too much Tom!" I whimpered, he growled and went faster, "you shouldn't of acted up so much..could've avoided this" his cock rammed in and out of me, my pussy able to handle everything that was happening.

Tom was pretty big, 8 inches. Even when he was gentle it hurt. But he always made sure I was ok, I guess this time was different, his cock balls deep in me, pounding into me mercilessly.

The pain slowly turned into pleasure, my clit was aching, desperate for attention. I cried out, grabbing one of his hands and moving it to his clit, he chuckled "so needy huh? my cock can't satisfy you enough?" his fingers latching onto my clit and rubbing rough circles.

"Such a slut.." he mumbled, growing more and more impatient. "You're so lucky, I give you everything and yet you still fucking act out", I whimpered "sorry..", he rolled his eyes "sorry won't cut it" his grip loosening on my hips and removing a hand off my clit, moving to my breasts, squeezing them tightly.

I moaned as his fingers grazed over my sensitive nipples, wrapping my legs around his waist and bringing him in closer, the pleasure hitting me in intense waves, making me arch my back.

Tom grinned as I arched my back, his head diving into my tits, sucking them cruely, his teeth biting my nipples softly.

I felt a knot building in my stomach, slowly coiling down to my core, his hips slapping against mine in a rhythmic pattern, he took me hard and fast, his breath came in ragged gasps as his release built up.

"Cum with me baby.." he growled, catching my lips in a rough kiss. I kissed him back, his tongue slipping into my mouth. With every powerful thrust, he relished the feeling of my body wrapping around him like a second skin. "Holy fuck...gonna cum" he groaned, my tight walls clenching around his cock sent waves on pleasure coursing throughout his body.

With one last brutal thrust he emptied himself in me, painting my walls white. Shortly after his orgasm I came too, my body shuddering as i did.

He slowly pulled out, crawling behind me on the bed and grabbing me, pulling me closer. I felt his cock pressed up against my back and his fingers slithering around to my pussy, sliding 2 figits in my pussy and pushing our cum back in.

I whimpered, the overstimulation setting in, "tommy no! too much!" I complained, tears falling down my cheeks, "shut up.." he said coldly, thrusting his fingers in roughly, curling his fingers at my g spot.

"Cum for me again.." he growled, slamming his fingers in and out. I was so wet that the wrong move would send his fingers flying out of me. He held me tightly and reached his thumb up to rub my clit.

I was becoming super overstimulated, the pleasure way too much for me. "Tom!" I cried out, nearing another orgasm.

"Cmon!" he shouted, pounding my pussy with his fingers, my pussy clenched again, engulfing his fingers. "Fuck yeah.." he muttered, teasing my g spot.

"Mmm! Gonna cum!" I cried out, cumming all over his fingers, whimpering as the orgasm hurt a little. He pulled his fingers out, licking the juices off clean.

He looked down at me, my body shaking and my eyes droopy, "oh baby..you're so sleepy" he chuckles, grabbing my small frame and laying us properly on the bed, holding me tight.

"This is what happens when you disobey me baby..you know that" he sighed, "when will you learn" he stroked my hair softly as I fell asleep in his arms.

tags: @tomscumdump @tomscumdoll @tomkaulitzloverr @syylss @charliesgoodboy @ge-billsgf @20doozers @miyukafujii @bkaulitzlover @ballhair

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polakina · 3 months

Text

evenings in the east

pairing: javier escuella x reader

rating: explicit

outline: a job takes you to saint denis, and you take the perfect person for the job. who also so happens to be your favourite person in camp. one night away from camp couldn't do any harm, right?

warnings: fluff, flirting, cursing, pining, smut, unprotected sex, oral (fem recieving), canon typical racism, illegal shit (but we've all robbed someone in the games, let's be honest)

requests are open! hope you enjoy, petals <3

a/n: this is a looong one. and also my first rdr2 attempt (but there will be more). so i took my sweet ass time with it. javier has had me in a fucking chokehold for years and i'm not even complaining

masterlist

When the team wanted revenge, it was you and Arthur on a mission. When they wanted chaos, Sean was the best to take. But for a little finesse, Javier was your go-to man.

Walking over to him, you noticed how he put down his weapons on the table, his eyes already on you before you reached him. Poncho draped over his shoulder, hat tipped down half his face, only his lips on show, he looked so elusive. Unapproachable to an outsider. But not to you.

“Good morning, cariňa,” he said softly, the words rolling off his tongue. His accent was always a little huskier in the morning. You’d learned over the years you’d known him that he wasn’t a morning person at all. It wasn’t in his nature. You often had to kick him awake, and even then he’d roll over at you and curse in his native tongue. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You smiled, taking a seat with two cups of coffee in your hands, sliding one across the wooden table to him. He nodded appreciatively, taking the cup and sipping a small amount. “Hosea’s sending me on a job. Should be fun. It’s a pretty lucrative deal, out in Saint Denis.”

“And��my role?” He asked, waving his hand in the air expectantly.

“Uhm…well…” you hadn’t really figured out his role. Just that you wanted his company for the job.

“Wait. Let me guess,” he smirked. “You want me to be the charmingly handsome distraction while you steal from a bunch of big money spenders in a high class bar?”

Rolling your eyes, you sipped your coffee. “Idiota. I need someone calm. Someone sneaky. You were my top pick.”

“Sneaky is not my talent, hermosa. I steal things with style,” he gestured to himself with his free hand, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. But he wasn’t wrong. He had a certain way about him. He always liked to put on a show. Not as much as Trewlany did, he was more subtle with his methods.

“Do you want the job or not, Javi?” You asked, leaning over the table, eyebrows raised.

He nodded almost immediately. “Very much so. Anything to get me out of this camp and away from sleeping in the tent next to Bill.” You laughed, and you both finished your coffee in comfortable silence.

Your relationship with Javier was a complicated one. And a long story. Your first encounter, he tried to rob you. It was a good lift. Any regular person going about their day wouldn’t have noticed. But the best of the best taught you to steal. To lie. To scam. So you noticed.

So when he tried to walk away, you didn’t stop him immediately, which confused Marston, who you were riding with. “What are you doin’, darlin’? He’s gonna get away.”

“I wanna have a little fun with it. I haven’t been robbed before,” you smiled sweetly, looking over at John innocently. “Wanna make it special.”

He looked at you in bewilderment. “You’re fuckin’ weird, doll.”

So you followed for a while, at a safe distance, while this mysterious Mexican rode his horse away, none the wiser. It’s only when he paced faster into a gallop that you finally decided it was time. Speeding past him on your horse you roped him with your lasso, tearing him off his horse and hitting the floor hard. Really hard.

John laughed at the man, and you dismounted your horse, wandering over to him, pulling your rope taut as you approached the thief.

“Hijo de puta, who the hell are you?” He groaned, rolling onto his back, his face painting a pained expression.

“The lady you robbed. Now give me back my shit and you can walk away from this,” you crouched down to his level, tipping your hat up to look him in the eye.

“How the hell do you know I robbed you? Huh? You accuse every Mexican you see of being a criminal?” His accent was thick, syllables rolling off his tongue effortlessly.

You smirked, flicking his hat off his head in one swift motion. “No, but I know a thief when I see one. Yeah, you’re a pretty good one, honey, but I’m better.” You held out your hand expectantly, and he sighed, reaching into his pocket and pulling a leather pouch out. It landed in your palm with a soft thud.

“You finished, darlin’? Or you wanna pack him up and take him with us? Either way, can we get moving? My ass hurts and it’s getting dark out.”

“Stop your whining, Marston,” you chuckled, standing up and releasing the man from your rope. What he’d said wasn’t actually a bad idea though. Taking him with you. He’d be an asset, sure. But it’d definitely take the camp a while to warm to the idea of it. You weighed the idea for a few minutes as the man stood up, brushing dirt off his knees. “What’s your name?”

He looked at you, slightly confused. You just lassoed him off his horse, and now you wanted to get to know him? “Javier.” You shook his hand, replying with your own name. He noted how gentle your voice was, as opposed to how harsh your actions were just moments ago.

“Where you headed?”

He walked back over to his horse, mounting it with a grunt and putting his hat back on his head, adjusting his poncho to sit comfortably. “Not sure yet. Wherever this road takes me, I guess. It was nice…getting thrown to the ground by you, I guess. But I got places to be. I’ll see you around.” He tipped his hat and jutted his heels into the sides of his horse.

“There’s a camp,” you said, watching him turn back to you with a curious expression. “About a mile east of Blackwater. You ever find your way out that direction, come introduce yourself. There might even be a place for you there.” He smiled and nodded before riding off west.

“Think that was a good idea?” John asked, walking his horse up next to you, looking down as you watched Javier leave. “Telling him where camp was?”

You shrugged, mounting your own horse and setting off into a trot back to camp. “Can’t do any harm, right? Besides, who knows? Maybe he really will stop by.”

He did. Two weeks later. He never ended up leaving. He became part of Van Der Linde’s most trusted and years later, still managed to prove himself one way or another.

“This dress hurts my lungs,” you complained. For the forty sixth time, Javier had been counting since you left camp in search of Saint Denis. “Can’t fucking breathe in this thing. How do ladies wear these all day?” You shuffled in your seat on the wagon, trying any way to get the pressure of this corset off your chest.

“Keep moving around and that corset is going to pierce an organ or something, hermosa,” Javier chuckled. He was lucky. He got to wear a suit and tie, and his hat, of course. What you wouldn’t give to switch this dress for your riding pants right about now. Or your hat. God, you missed your hat. You felt naked without it.

“I’ll pierce your organs with it if you keep laughing at me.”

That just made him chuckle even harder. “We’ve got to play the part. Distinguished members of society.” He looked over to you and was just met with a blank stare.

“I hate every word that just came out of your mouth,” you said, rolling your eyes. Coming into view was the city you were heading for. The tall industrial looking buildings, the rows and rows of streets and train tracks and stores. It was occupied by more people than you think you’d ever come across in your life. “Jesus, that place is huge.”

“Just look like you belong, we’ll be fine.” Javier patted your thigh comfortingly. It made your stomach flip.

Parking the wagon by the side of the saloon Hosea had told you about, you looked up at the mountain of a building. “How the hell are these buildings so tall?” You muttered to yourself. A quiet cough pulled you out of your thoughts and you looked to your right, where Javier was standing, a hand extended to help you off the wagon. “Such a gentleman, aren’t you?” You smiled.

“I’m always a gentleman, thank you very much,” he joked. “You’d do well to remember that.” Holding out his arm, you took it, looping your arm through his and making your way to the entrance. But he stopped just before opening the door, turning to you. “Hold out your hand.” You did, confused, but also trusting him completely. “Other hand, hermosa.” You switched for your left hand.

“What are you doing, Javi?”

He said nothing, slipping a ring onto your finger. A wedding ring, from the looks of it. Your confusion was now fully recognisable in your features. “Playing the part,” he replied, winking. He switched one of his own rings to his ring finger. Then he pushed the door open with a smile.

The hotel clerk gave you a strange look, but it immediately washed away when he saw your hardened glare. “Evening folks, how can I help you tonight?”

You took point on the situation, as planned. “Good evening, sir,” you beamed sweetly. “We’d like a room for the night. We were recommended this establishment by friends and our expectations certainly seemed to be met from just the look of this place.” Javier loved your way with words. You’d taken after Hosea in that regard, able to smooth talk your way into anything you wanted.

“Well, ma’am, we certainly do have rooms available. Is the room just for yourself, or is this…gentleman joining you?” He looked to Javier with uncertainty. Your blood boiled a little, and Jvaier’s finger interlaced with yours, squeezing your hand gently. He could sense anger in you.

“You mean my husband?” It felt strange saying such foreign words, but you powered through it. “Yes, he will. Is that a problem for you? Sir?” Venom laced that last word, and the clerk realised he fucked up. A lot.

“No, no of course not. Here, the key to your room,” he said, handing a key with the number 4C etched into the key chain. “And a bottle of wine at the bar, on the house.” You and Javier looked to one another, he smirked and turned back to the clerk.

“Make that a bottle of whiskey and you have yourself a deal, amigo,” he flashed a smile in the clerk’s direction. He still hadn’t loosened his grip on your hand yet, you’d eased into his touch over time.

“Of course, sir,” the clerk returned with an awkward, tight lipped smile, gesturing to the stairs leading to the first floor. “Your room is on the fourth floor, folks. Enjoy your night.”

You smiled sweetly, leaning over the desk, closer to the clerk until he saw the fire simmering in your eyes. It scared him a little. “Thank you, sir,” you spoke quietly, too quiet for Javier to hear. “But you insult my husband again, and I’ll take your tongue for good measure.” The clerk’s face drained of all life. You walked away, Javier leading you up the stairs.

“What did you say to him?” Javier asked, unlocking the hotel door and entering inside.

“Nothing, really,” you vaguely responded, “Just…commenting on his customer service.”

The bar was pretty quiet. A group of young ladies sat in the corner, eyeing up the married men who were sat on the right side of the bar, smoking and laughing amongst one another. It had been a long time since you’d been somewhere like this. So civilised. So populated with the high end of society. It made you uncomfortable, but your face read as calm. Collected. You belonged here. Javier guided you to the bar, his hand on the small of your back. You felt comforted by the brief touches.

Your targets were all around you. Rich folk visiting from New York for the yearly Saint Denis festival and theatre house. They came like clockwork, swaying through the city in their frocks and suits, casting eyes down at the lower class occupants as they sat by the road, only a few coins in their hats.

The bottle of whiskey was waiting for you on the bar, the one gifted from staff for your previously rude introduction with the clerk. The bartender poured two glasses of whiskey, adding ice for yours. You took a seat at the bar, Javier on your left, situated at the corner of the bar so he could see the entire room. You sat yourself where the mirror hanging on the back of the bar was situated, giving you a perfect view of those behind you.

“Some pretty good shit we could get off these people, I think,” Javier whispered, leaning close to you. You hummed a response, twisting the ring on your hand between your fingers. The metal felt strange, cold. But you enjoyed the feeling.

“Agreed. But we gotta keep it quiet. Split up, maybe?” You cast your eyes out to the unknowing victims you were planning to rob. The ladies in the corner had since turned their attention to Javier. Whispering words between them, they giggled, and you saw an opportunity. “Group of women, over my right shoulder. Seems you’ve got their attention. Maybe you should go say hi.”

He smirked, tipping his hat to the ladies with a flirtatious edge to his smile. You ignored the pang of jealousy that seeped through you. “What, and leave my lovely wife at the bar alone? That’d be a poor husband you’re making me out to be, amor.” He was seriously leaning into this act the two of you were playing out. You were eating up every second of it.

Turning to face him, you locked onto his eyes which were fully focused on you. “I’m sure I can handle myself, darlin’. Go mingle. Perhaps a kind gentleman will come over and give me a moment of his time.” His smile faltered at the thought of another man having your attention, but he brushed it away.

“I’ll keep an eye out, just be careful.”

Then he kissed your cheek and walked away. You were left sat there, stunned. But Javier had an enormous grin on his face as he walked away.

It didn’t take long for a drunken man to stumble over to you. But you ignored him, sipping your whiskey and occasionally sneaking a glance to Javier, who had all four women swooning at his charm. You’d noticed the way he’d taken their hands, slipping the bracelet off their wrist and pocketing it in swift, simple motions. You were glad to have brought him along. Anyone else would have been caught in an instant.

“Ma’am, how are you doing on this fine, lovely evening,” the man slurred, standing directly behind you. You looked into the mirror, seeing the tall, brutish looking fellow with glazed eyes, swaying slightly as he looked at you. You turned your head slightly to look at him.

“Just fine, sir. And yourself?” You turned to face him fully, but you caught Javier glancing over as you swivelled on your bar stool.in one hand, you held your almost empty whiskey glass, in the other, you were slowly reaching for the drunk’s pocket.

“Even better now that I’ve seen your pretty face. Say, what you doin’ out here all alone? That greaser you were with earlier left you. Suppose he wasn’t great company, was he? No surprise there.” Your pulse quickened, and your grip on your glass tightened.

“I think you should go find someone else to pester, honey,” your gaze darkened, and you retrieved everything you could from your pockets, slipping them into the pockets that Abigail had sewn into your dress for this mission. “I don’t care much for company right now.”

He just smirked. But there was no charm in it. It was an ugly smirk. A gap toothed grin that you would see again in your nightmares at some point, you were sure of it. “Come on, sweetheart, you’d love my company, I promise you.”

You turned back to the bar, slightly leaning over to get to the bartender’s attention, pointing to your glass for a refill. The bartender nodded, turning away from you to collect the bottle. But as you moved to sit back on your stool, you felt a large, warm slap on your ass. You almost broke the stool with the speed you leapt off it, turning to the man who was significantly larger than yourself. “Keep your hands to your fucking self,” you seethed, your hand gripping his wrist. You saw movement out of the corner of your eye, and eyes on you everywhere. “Touch me again, and I’ll break your fucking wrist, you understand?” He just smiled, chuckling slightly.

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.”

“I’m pretty sure she didn’t, amigo,” Javier appeared at your side, his eyes practically red with rage. But he kept it all in pretty well, somehow. “You best move along. Unless you want more than that wrist of yours snapping in two.” The way Javier spoke made him seem bigger than he actually was. More confident, but more dangerous.

The man saw his chances were slim and made his way over to a free table, slumping down in it while muttering something about can’t even be nice to people anymore. You weren’t really listening. A finger tipped your chin over to Javier, his eyes softening in your gaze. “All good, hermosa?”

You nodded, heart beating faster as his fingers moved to the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek. “All better now,” you smiled.

The night went on, and you filled your pockets, Javier did the same. With half a bottle of whiskey left, you decided to turn in for the night. You led the way back to the room, the key in one hand, your glass in the other. Javier followed close behind, holding his own glass and the rest of the bottle.

Locking the room door behind the two of you, you both emptied your valuables onto the desk opposite the bed. It was a good haul. A really good haul. Over five hundred dollars in cash and at least another four hundred in jewellery and personal belongings.

“So what do we do for the rest of the night?” you asked, heading to the balcony doors and opening them, letting some air into the room. “We did the job, and it's not even midnight yet.”

Javier thought about it, moving over to join you on the balcony, sitting on one of the chairs beside you, pouring whiskey into the glasses on the table. “Well, we could enjoy the rest of our night away from camp. I, for one, am happy to not having to lie on the ground for one night, if you feel the same?” He looked over, slightly hopeful in a sense.

“That…actually sounds like a nice idea,” you admitted, taking a drag of the cigarette you had lit. You both sat there for a short while, listening to the wind whistling, the town bustling, the horses braying in the street. It was peace. Peace was not something you had felt in a while, or been able to enjoy. You planned on soaking up as much of it as you could before morning.

After an hour or so, the whiskey bottle had been poured dry, and you and Javier had chatted away until silence consumed you. But the pain of that fucking dress was ruining your whole mood. You stood slowly, huffing as you turned back to the room. Javier watched as you went, furrowing his brows as he saw your hands fiddling with the lace knot at the base of your spine. “Everything okay, hermosa?” He called out, following you into the room.

“Need to take this damned thing off, can’t feel my back at all,” you laughed. But you couldn’t untie the knot. It was intricate and fiddly, even with a mirror, you wouldn’t even know where to start. “Can you…please…” You were out of breath already from sucking in your stomach as though that would somehow loosen the lace.

“Stop fiddling, you’ll make it worse.” You heard his voice in your ear. He was right behind you, batting your hands away and taking the tie in his own fingers. He struggled for a second, you heard the laugh in his voice as he cursed at the dress in Spanish, it made you silently chuckle with him.”You’re laughing at me? I see your shoulders shaking. Keep it up and I’ll leave you to sleep in this dress, amor.”

“Please, no, get this dress off me,” you managed to say between giggles.

“Por el amor de dios,” he muttered before slicing through the lace with his knife. “Hope you weren’t planning on wearing this again.”

“You cut it?!” You exclaimed, flipping your head to the side, glaring at him amusedly. “You were defeated by a corset. We’ve found your weakness, Javi. It’s lace.”

He smiled. “Cállate,” he mused playfully. Untying the rest of the lace, you let out a huge breath as the bone corset loosened, allowing you to intake breath comfortably.

“Oh, my hero,” you whispered, breathing deeply. He murmured a ‘you’re welcome’, continuing to untangle the lace all the way up to your shoulders. He watched as the dress peeled off your body, showing your back, your spine, your shoulder blades, all encased in soft, pretty, perfect skin. He was mesmerised as he watched as you rolled your shoulders, relieving the tension in your muscles.

Javier couldn’t help but reach out, pulling your dress to the side, pushing it off your shoulder. He hadn’t noticed the way you’d stopped breathing. Hadn’t noticed the way you’d turned your head to the side, peering at him through your peripheral. Hadn’t noticed the look in your eye. Curiosity? Anticipation? Excitement? He wouldn’t have known. Didn’t know you were waiting to see what he was doing. Or what he would do next.

You felt his fingers run up your spine. Soft, yet calloused fingers dragged up your skin, running over your bones and your muscles. Your scars felt strange under his touch, but you said nothing. You didn’t want him to stop. You felt the dress slip off your other shoulder, the only thing holding the clothing up was your arm, your hand pressed flat against your chest, the fabric bunching as you supported the weight of it.

His other hand came to your waist, and you shuddered under the feeling, seemingly snapping Javier out of the trance he had locked himself in. His hands fell from your body, and he stepped back slightly. “I…sorry,” he spoke quietly. Meekly. “I’ll leave you to change.”

You turned on your heel, your eyes gazing at him. “Or you could sta-” Your words stuck to the insides of your throat as his hands cupped the sides of your neck, his head dipping down, connecting his lips to yours. He smelled of smoke and whiskey. He tasted the same, and you revelled in the taste as your tongue slipped into his mouth, melting with his own. His hands drifted to your waist, his lips travelling to your neck, to your exposed shoulder and you let the dress fall to the floor with a soft thud. His eyes explored every inch of you. But it didn’t make you feel uneasy, or uncomfortable, like when other men had laid their gaze on you, eyes filled with hunger. Javier’s eyes only shone in affection, taking in every feature, every part of your body.

“Tan hermosa, amor,” he mumbled, kissing you once again, his lips slotting against yours perfectly. He walked you backwards to the bed, and you stepped out of your shoes, kicking them aside as your thighs hit something solid. He guided you to lie on the bed, his body hovering over yours, his leg slipping between your thighs as his kisses grew heavier, passionate, hungry. Your fingers unbuttoned his shirt with ease, and he shrugged it off, his soft honey skin mixing with the candlelight across the room. Soft, fuzzy hair on his chest tickled your skin as his body pressed against yours, his right hand firmly pressed into the mattress, holding his body above yours so he didn’t crush you under his weight.

His other hand drifted to your leg, cupping under your thigh and pulling it up until it wrapped around his waist. You felt his thigh softly shift in between your legs, brushing coarsely against something sensitive, pulling a soft gasp from your throat. He smiled against your lips. “What was that, cariňa? Something feel good, hm?” God you could hear the cockiness dripping off his words. But you loved it. He knew what he was doing. Exactly what he was doing to you. So Javier repeated the motion, a little harder this time, and you moaned this time. It was like sweet nectar to his ears. “Fuck, I love the noises you make. I haven’t even started yet, sweetheart.”

His lips trailed south, down your stomach, over your tits, nipping and sucking at your flesh until it was blemished red. His beard tickled your stomach, but once he reached below your navel, every thought or feeling exited your head. He pried the underwear off your body, pulling it painfully slowly down your legs and tossing it to the ground. Looking up at you from where he was kneeled between your thighs, only inches from your already wet cunt, he looked for signs of discomfort. You gave him none. You had none. All you wanted was this. So he dove in. He couldn’t help himself. Like a man starved, he licked his tongue up your soaked pussy, groaning at the taste of you on his tongue. God, he fucking loved it. But when he found your clit with the tip of his tongue, he wished he could play the noise you made on repeat in his head forever. It was a sharp gasping moan. A pleasurable realisation that he’d find the most sensitive part of you. So he focused on it like a hawk focusing on prey. The tingles that ran through your veins overtook your senses, and you ran a hand through his hair, pulling the tie that bound it together apart to grab a fistful between your fingers.

He stayed right where you kept him, right where he wanted to be. His right arm wrapped around your thigh, pinning you in place. You didn’t know where his other hand went until you felt his finger teasing your hole. Your mouth fell open, silently begging for him to do what you knew he was thinking of doing. As though he could hear you, he slipped his finger in with ease, curling it upwards and hitting something devastatingly perfect in your core. “Shit, just like that. Please,” you whined. He gazed up at you through hooded lids. It was the first time you’d spoken since he’d kissed you. Just the way you spoke made him want to ravage you right there and then. But he couldn’t. He had to take his time with you. He didn’t know when he’d next get time alone with you like this.

Adding another finger, he felt your juices coat him, drown his fingers inside you. His jaw ached, but he couldn’t stop, not when he felt your thighs clench around his head, caging him in. His fingers moved with deft precision, hitting that spot inside that made your legs shake against his ears. Your moans filled the room, urging Javier on. You felt his fingers speed up, thrusting harder and deeper inside you, his tongue toying with your clit and sending shockwaves up your spine.

You felt the cusp of something perfect building up inside you, and your back arched against the sheets, your grip tightening in Javi’s hair. “Yes, yes, fuck. I’m close, Javi,” you whispered into the darkness, the sun completely gone from the sky for the night, letting the moon take the limelight right outside your window.

But Javier had different plans, his fingers forcefully pulling out of your cunt and leaving you feeling empty. Your head lifted off the mattress in an instant, seeing the smirk playing at his lips. Javier kissed your inner thigh, kicking off his boots as he crawled up your body. “What are you doing, Javi?” You whined, leaning into his deep kiss. Tasting yourself on his tongue felt strange, but you liked it, you learned quickly.

“Well, I want you to come. But not on my fingers, darlin’.” His voice was husky, needy. God, you could have cum at just his voice at that point. Your hands drifted to his pants, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. “That’s what I thought.”

He tilted your face back up to his as he felt your fingers drift along cock, confined beneath his underwear. “Please, Javi,” you breathed, palming his erection gently.

“Let me take care of you, hermosa.” His hand enclosed around your wrist, pulling it away from his cock and over your head, doing the same with your other hand. Holding himself up against the mattress once again, he freed his cock with his other hand, teasing the tip of it through your folds. God, you needed him. Your pussy was practically begging for him.

The second he pushed inside you, you knew you wouldn’t last long. He was thick, filling you as he eased his dick to the base inside you. Javier groaned once fully inside you, his hand coming up to grip your wrists, holding them firm against the mattress. “God, you feel good, amor. Too fuckin’ good. Need to fuck you. Please, let me fuck you.” Fuck, he was begging you now. It made you clench around him, causing him to grunt against your neck.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, closing him in, pushing his body further against yours. Your foot nudged against his ass, grinding his dick into you. “Javi, please. Please fuck me.”

Without warning, he thrust hard and deep in you. You cried out his name, and it set him off in a feral kind of motion. The tip of his cock brushed against your core with each thrust, balls slapping against your ass with each movement. Javier propped himself on his knees, his hand gripping your wrists, his other hand gripping the outside of your thigh, fingers kneading into your ass. He rocked into you at an animalistic pace, the bed shaking and creaking, the headboard knocking against the wall in perfect rhythm with his hips. Words escaped you, his cock rendering you to a moaning mess beneath him. God, you were a perfect sight. He cursed in Spanish, nearing his own high. Javier watched as you fell apart, your face contorted in pleasure, your leg sliding off his back and onto the mattress, completely spread for him to see.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you managed to say between thrusts. You were close. So fucking close. And so was he. You could feel it. The way his hips faltered sometimes, his laboured breathing, the strength in the way he held you pinned against the mattress, completely submissive underneath him.

“Come on, hermosa, come for me. Come on my cock, I know you can,” he gritted through his teeth, pushing a few more forceful pumps inside your sopping pussy until you finally clenched around him hard. You flooded his cock, your insides tensed and clamped around his dick. Javier followed not too far behind, his cum spurting out and painting your walls in white.

The only sound in the room was your matching breaths. Heavy, and desperate. His face buried in the crook of your neck, kissing your salty skin, his teeth dragging along your pulse. Javier rolled onto his side, pulling you with him so he didn’t have to pull out of you just yet.

You laid on his chest, the sweat on your skin sticking you together, but you didn’t care. The breeze of the open balcony doors would cool you both eventually.

“I’m glad I chose to come on this job with you,” Javier whispered to you. You couldn’t help but giggle, hearing the smile in his voice.

You turned your head to look up at him. His hair was slicked back, you never saw it like this. You only saw him with his hair tied back. “Me too, Javi.” He leaned down to kiss you softly, gently brushing his lips against yours.

“We should go on jobs together in the future. Gotta keep eachother company, you know?” He smirked as you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, so just on jobs, Escuella?”

His eyebrow quirked up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You smiled. “Your tent is off limits?”

“Absolutely not. After this, I’d be honoured to have you in my tent whenever you’d like, amor. You just say the word.”

Camp felt different after the job. Javier was more open and affectionate with you. Kissing the top of your head when bringing you coffee if you were on morning watch. He’d sit with you at the campfire and let you play around with his guitar. He fucked you gently in his tent at night, covering your mouth so Bill had nothing to bring up at breakfast. Everyone noticed. But said nothing. It’s almost like they had expected it to go exactly like this. Hosea especially.

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