#its uncomfortable to think he might be dead and its also uncomfortable to think about what the hell hes doing if hes Out There
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Hello, oh my, damn... so english isn't my first language and i wasn't sure how to phrase it better so don't worry, i totally understand being uncomfortable and I'm sorry 😅
I did enjoy your version very much and i also think that you should definitely go for a crow reader cause that is such a cute idea!
- accidentally proposing anon
No problem! And since you're interested here's some very quick ideas I had about crow reader before I go to work today!
Alastor
Nothing phases this man anymore. Niffty literally gifted him a crown of dead roaches. So when you flutter excitedly and present him with a string of shiny can tabs, you've been collecting he accepts it graciously.
"You're quite right dear, these are incredibly colorful. Yes, very shiny are you sure you don't want to keep this? Oh! You made it for me? Well, aren't you just precious."
He makes it into a necklace or even something to decorate his horns.
Vox
Valentino likes light, you like shiny things, both of you tend to like being around screens and bright colors.
Except you don't just like screens, it's anything colorful or shiny. Actually sometimes it's not even that, its just random odds and ends that caught your attention for some reason. He gets it sometimes, textures, patterns, things like that.
But you have everything from soda can tabs to random buttons to rocks of various shapes, sizes, and colors. You have different sticks and pieces of wood you found that for some reason you then had to have. Pieces of mismatched jewelry. It's cute but it also clutters up space and he eventually designates one room for your stuff and tells you to keep it condensed. You do, and swear it's organized, but it's all just a jumbled mess to him.
He's in his lair, observing all the many different cameras, looking for some wannabe actress who owed him money, when you bounce in, barely stifling excited squaking. He sighs fondly and turns to you, knowing he's not going to be able to concentrate until he sees what you want to show him.
It's a collection of your molted feathers, the best ones, sleek and iridescent, bound together with some colorful twine you found and attached to it is a miniature glass jar filled with colorful, shiny bits of plastic, metal, and rock, and corked shut and sealed with hot glue.
It makes a nice rattle sound when he shakes it and the feathers are nice to pet and run his fingers over and..."Did you make me a fidget toy? From....random stuff you found? That's, that's actually really cute, thanks Doll."
He downplays how much he uses it, but it's literally on his key ring, so you know it goes everywhere with him and if during long meetings his staff are subjected to the consistent background noise of little shiny bits rattling around in a jar, then that's their problem.
Lucifer
As you may have noticed Lucifer also tends to collect things he has no need for. But he might need it one day! Between the two of you it does get to be a bit of a problem, so you both agree to sort through and condense your piles.
It takes days cuz you guys keep stopping to show each other cool stuff you guys have. Then, several more days just to get through his numerous rubber ducks. Eventually it's down to a single room where your collections have merged. Each item carefully chosen and presented to one another like expensive jewelry or other such luxurious things. But it's a cool rock you found, a giant bronze spring, a box full of candy wrappers with clever sayings, and a scrapbook with various brightly colored pieces of cardboard from snacks, toys, shoes, literally anything, that caught your eye.
It's anyone's guess on who adds what, but you do both have to agree on it before it's added so you don't hoard things again.
That's the end, but maybe I'll go back and add Adam and some of the other characters later. I just wanted to get my initial ideas down before work.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin hotel lucifer#vox x reader#lucifer x reader#alastor x reader
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still it was sooooooo funny and uncomfortable at the psych appointment because she saw ? somewhere in papers/files that my mom and dad divorced in.... 2015 i think and shes all like "so.... usually divorce causes problems in children... how was that for you was it hard on you...?" acting all nervous/gentle like lmaooooo thats not even the worst part i dont think i cared about the divorce In Comparison to Everything Else. hed been abusive to my mom and generally neglectful not great to us (me and sibling) and theyd been separated for 6 years before the divorce because he kept going to jail for drug related things which he would often steal money from us for it and generally made my moms life hell by like manipulating and emotionally abusing her and hed have violent tantrums where he broke things (there are still holes in the walls and other damage in the house from him) and also sorta ruined our lives a bit and then in 2019 he was accused of some crime and he ran away to escape getting arrested or whatever and i think legally he is classified as a missing person and we dont even know if hes alive or not.
so like the divorce was whatever to me i guess.
#i think abt this sometimes and its just weird to me#like not the psych appointment that was just like 4 days ago. like the dad situation#its uncomfortable to think he might be dead and its also uncomfortable to think about what the hell hes doing if hes Out There#before id actually searched him up on the internet a few times within the past few years wondering if something was found out and i wasnt#told or something. seeing if maybe there was a police report or something or even an obituary or something. but there wasnt#this got more serious than i meant it to be :/ but he was diagnoses with bipolar so the psych think i have that. not sure abt that#but like i kinda want to talk about this or like tell people i know about it mostly bc i just feel like idk i feel like this is something.#like. i think it says things about me i feel like maybe this information would give people a more complete view of me in a way#i guess lawl but also i know its uncomfortable probably and im scared of that. the widespread hate of 'trauma dumping' makes me#feel like i cant tell people things that might be uncomfortable#oh and i guess something else about this is while obviously this has psychological effects but the effects feel more. not mild#but. interwoven. they dont seem as apparent or like they dont stand out as much. like i get more upset about the topic of outdoor cats#than i get upset about this. like for me this was just something that happened i guess. mostly bc i know that basically everyone#has some kind of issues with their parents. or at least most people i know lawl. me befriending people like#OMG youre also fatherless !? so twinning right now#or like other things like crappy parents or divorce or this or that.#but i think thats most people but also maybe i just have a skewed perception lol
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hi! Sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language. I don't know if you're accepting requests, if you not, just ignore. But I'm wondering how you would write something related to a jealous Arthur Morgan, high honor of course (with smut or without smut sincerely you know what looks best). the way you write is addictive and passionate, i believe anything you write from this would be great.
OUR DEAR, GREEN LITTLE FRIEND
Pairing | Arthur Morgan x Fem! Reader
Summary | Oh, jealousy. When the thought of you straying too close to the comfort of Charles, the green monster claws its way into Arthur's head.
Tags | sexual content 18+ minors dni, tiny bit of angst, description of violence and wounds, fluffy at times, smut
Word Count | 10k
A/N | Hi everyone! I just HAD to write this request, hope you like it! Also, thank you dearly anon♡
While many found the biting cold of the climate north of West Grizzlies to be bitter–sharp air seeping into your very bones–you saw it oddly liberating despite the current predicament. The circumstance was dire, indeed, and you pondered many times if this would finally be the end for all of you, thinking of the incredible luck you had managed to have so far. Fate, or an astonishingly fascinating knowledge on how to escape the grappling arms of the law with a suspicious amount of people trashing through the roads in utter, sheer panic.
Glancing around you as you huddled closer to the fire, hands rubbing furiously against the wool of your gloves to gain even the slightest warmth to your biting fingers, you were met with the flushed cheeks of your comrades. The skin that now glistened from the melting snowflakes was caressed by the warm, orange glow from the flames lighting up the small hut you had taken residence in.
The road leading to here had been long, and the time spent in the wagon that did nothing to shield you from the penetrating wind that howled into the night, your thoughts had been entirely focused on the man who now lay dead a few meters away, tucked in some fabric to shield the paling flesh of a corpse. While the thought might not make you uncomfortable, it did its thing on the others who looked weary at the covered man.
You had done your best to tend to him amidst the severe trembling of your fingers and numbness spreading through you the longer you rode in the worrying storm, finding his blood still staining the cotton of your gloves–a reminder that you had done what you could to help the poor fellow. Despite not knowing him well enough to shed a tear, death was still a death, and a slight melancholy set its claw in all of you as you tried to regain some warmth.
“Stupid man.” Glancing beside you, you took notice of the dark-haired woman muttering angrily as she held a sleeping Jack close to her body.
“What’s wrong?” You inquired quietly, curious of her obvious disdain.
“John Marston is what’s wrong.” Blazing heatedly into the fire, you could almost see the depths of hell through her furious eyes. “He didn’t come back with the rest.” Shifting her eyes to yours for a quick moment that, although short, showed the worry hidden beneath her anger.
Nodding slowly as you leaned against her slightly in comfort, you realized you hadn’t taken notice of the man’s absence until now. Returning with empty hands and another mouth to feed had instead been the case, no Marston as far as the eyes could see as he probably whirred around in the blizzard somewhere.
“Do you think he…” As you spoke, you trailed off, growing unsure of your words while realizing your comments might be prodded into a sensitive subject.
“No.” Firmly, she sniveled harshly, shaking her head in protest. “No, he wouldn’t leave again.” Although her words were sure, you still felt a lingering doubt cloud your mind, remembering being told of his earlier departure from the gang that caused more scars in their relationships than good–not that it wasn’t faulty from the very start.
As you were about to let your prying win against your common sense, you were interrupted by the door being audibly slammed open, the noisy winds from outside growing louder as snowflakes whirled inside. Walking inside was the prominent figure of Charles, nodding respectfully to its residents as the door shut behind him, once more letting the warmth settle.
“Folks.” He mumbled quietly, treading through everyone huddling by the fire as he glanced curiously at the new woman before settling beside you. You glanced up at him, taking in his snow-covered self before lingering on his hand that rested motionless on his legs, bandages visible under his gloves.
“It’s not too bad; the cold seems to numb the pain.” A slight smile graced your lips at his observance, finding it unique to the man to be so tentative to everyone around him. Letting out a small laugh, you reach to remove your gloves before taking his hand in yours so you could lay it in your lap, unwrapping the bandages to examine the burns covering his skin.
You had given it a quick look-over before you had to tend to Davey, doing the best you could to ease his pain you were sure would be unavoidable. Although the sight was quite gruesome, it didn’t look as bad as you had expected.
“You’re stronger than me, that’s for sure. I would be a crying mess if I burned my hand like that.” Your voice was gentle as you started to rewrap the fabric around his hand, finding it increasingly irritating you didn’t have the tools you usually did that would indeed do a fine job at lessening his pain.
You had managed to gain a slight smile from the otherwise aloof man, probably finding your words humorous. “Let’s hope it’ll never come to that.”
Sharing a look, you heard the door open once again, the irritated voice of Uncle damning whoever was letting in the cold for the second time. Both you and Charles laughed slightly, and as you looked up, you were faced with a pair of squinting, blue eyes, the icy cold from the outside seemingly enhancing their sharpness although making a welcomed warmth spread through you as they gazed over you in a quick motion–departing to look at the hand that rested in your lap.
“A sad loss, folks,” Hosea stated as he stepped onto the wooden planks, speaking out loudly in the otherwise calm hut, groaning as he helped Arthur lift Davey’s lifeless body, limp like a ragdoll.
Glancing subtly, you observed him as Arthur’s bulky form lifted easily, unlike Hosea, admiring how he made it seem so effortless. The others called him the camps workhorse, and you didn’t fail to see why, keeping your eyes firm on the man as he carried him towards the door.
He shrouded you in uncertainty; he did, and you weren’t sure how to behave in his bold presence. You often felt like a goody two shoes, and even though you weren’t the perfect picture of a law-abiding citizen, you could honestly say you were a wimp compared to Arthur.
You should be embarrassed, you really should, but there was something in his eyes– something that made your heart race. Utterly shameless, yet desperate to lock gazes again despite contradicting yourself and avoiding them every chance you could. Before you could get caught this time, you directed your eyes, focusing on tightening the bandages so they wouldn’t come loose.
“Try to be careful, will you, Charles?” You spoke quietly while patting his hand, motioning that he was all set to go, but his hand stayed, giving you a grateful look.
“Thank you.” His soothing voice was hushed as the loud bang of the door slammed shut not long after, ridding you of the tumult after their departure.
–
Oh, it burned. It burned so deep in his loins that it felt like he would erupt into flames any second. Despite the cold surrounding him, he was sure it could be possible the more he was left with his thoughts. The hushed whispers, the soft touches, and the ever-so-gentle look in your eyes made him want to empty the little food in his stomach.
“Sneaky little rat,” Arthur grumbled to himself as he shoveled his way through the deep layers of snow. Here he was, out in the cold, tortured by the howling winds of the snowstorm, while Charles remained inside the warmth of the hut, seated next to you, all because of a slight burn.
He knew what he was up to–what any man would do if it meant getting your attention–and he wasn’t humored. Taking advantage of your good nature was downright uncalled for, bordering on immoral, which Arthur would probably realize wasn’t Charles’s character if his mind didn’t seek to find faults with the man the more his blood boiled.
He scoffed to himself, stabbing the ground maliciously, imagining your warm hands around his instead, the nimble fingers of yours tending to him as you moved in closer, your sweet smell reaching his nose as you gazed up at him, face blushed from the cold with lips begging him to warm them up with his. The thought did nothing more than cover his whole body in shivers, only to be reminded that it wasn’t him that received that attention from you.
“What are you huffing about over there, Arthur?!” Hosea’s strained voice attempted to shout over the loud winds, standing up to rest momentarily.
“Why don’t we just bury him when the storm has settled?!” Annoyance was apparent in his voice, the green jealous monster still wreaking havoc in his mind.
“I told you, the snow will be too heavy tomorrow, so we need to finish it while we still can!” He groaned, starting to shovel once more. “And I’ll be damned, we are going to give Davey a proper burial. He deserves that much!”
As Hosea blabbered on about justice and other forms of respect Arthur had no intent on listening to, he zoned out, feeling sorry for himself as he imagined you might be keeping close to Charles right this moment, warming yourself to his body in a desperate search of bodily heat. Rubbing the melted snow off his face, Arthur damned the heavens above for making him the unluckiest bastard in the West.
Despite Arthur seeming dead set on you being lovey-dovey with a man you barely knew, Charles had left you after making some small talk, mentioning that he would try and get some well-deserved rest after the tumultuous past few days. Many others did as well, attempting to ease their minds from the constant threat against their back amidst the terrible cold.
Although, as days passed and John being back rid you of Abigail’s constant muttering, the cold only seemed to take its toll on you, unlike the others who quickly got used to the environment. Furthermore, the days only seem to get longer up in the mountains, and you wondered obsessively when you would get the chance to leave–damning everyone who thought seeking out Colm O’Driscoll in your compromised state a good idea instead of moving forwards.
Despite your dismay, you put yourself to use like the others, preparing to help Pearson in the grim act of cutting through the poor deer that had been brought back. While the sight gladdened you, knowing you would finally get a meal in your stomach, the brooding aura of a chestnut-haired, blue-coated man seemed to rain over you endlessly.
What could you have done to gain his stinging glare? It was almost cutting through you entirely from the burning that resided deep in his eyes, watching you ferociously, making your hair stand on edge. When he had returned with Charles, it had been nothing short of unpleasant ever since, although thankfully–despite his glare–his harsh words were directed towards Pearson instead of you, which you were glad for.
“How’s the cold treating you?” Glancing away from the two men bickering, you laughed slightly at Charles’s innuendo, dressed worse for wear as you pulled the thick, woolen scarf tighter around your neck, hugging yourself to keep warm.
“Could be worse, I guess,” you said, clouds like smoke surrounding you as you talked.
“I suppose. Still, I don’t want you freezing your fingers off.”
“Mhh,” you nodded thoughtfully, speaking up after silence. “Who would look after your hand if that happened?”
He chuckled heartily at your unsuspected joke, and you glanced up at him bashfully, a light smile covering your face at his apparent amusement. While your embarrassment of being so easily swayed by the cold, it felt nice having someone take notice of your obvious discomfort, even though you would say you were pretty good at keeping it to yourself. You couldn’t be surprised, though, well aware you and Charles were both tentative to your surroundings, always knowing but rarely telling.
“Here.” Taking off the large gloves covering his hand, no doubt doing an excellent job keeping him warm, he grabbed your trembling hands in his, rubbing them between his pleasant temperature hand and bandage-covered skin before gliding the fabric over yours.
“No, Charl-” you protested, trying to stop him from continuing.
“They’ll do you more good than me, I promise. They’re just in the way.” Stubbornly, he planted your hands back into your lap, petting them like you had done to him some nights ago before raising with a huff.
“Thanks for the help, Arthur.” Charles nodded at the now grumpy man observing him as he rested against the wood of the wooden wall with arms crossed, seemingly ignoring Mr. Pearson’s lecture about the navy he felt so strongly about, only providing a quick tilt of his hat before heated eyes were set on you.
Your gaze faltered, the blush on your face from the cold only intensifying the spread of warmth you felt from gaining his profound stare–something you rarely took notice of. It wasn’t that he didn’t look at you; he probably looked too much at times, but he was never so ardent with it, scrutinizing you under their heavy weight–making you feel ten times smaller under his towering height.
“Well, why don’t you skin the deer, Arthur? I’ll help you cut them up in a while, miss.” Mr. Pearson’s words were hasty, and you didn’t miss the bottle glistening under the sunlight as he tried hiding it behind his coat, scurrying away. He would, in fact, not be back; you were sure of that much.
It wasn’t often you found yourself alone with Arthur, and you never strayed too close, finding his presence somewhat daunting. Not that you’ve had many chances to speak amidst all the chaos surrounding you, and being relatively new to the gang meant the trust lacked significantly from both sides. But, the intrigue was always present in every glance and movement.
You felt his gaze fixed on you a moment longer as you stared heedlessly at your hands, rubbing them together anxiously, having no clue what to do with yourself. While you weren’t one to speak the ears of others, you never had any problem socializing with those around you–but Arthur, he was something else entirely. Finally, though, he moved, approaching the hanging carcass.
“How are ya?” His sudden words surprised you, hanging awkwardly in the air.
“Oh, um. Good?” You cringed at yourself, finding the words stuck in your throat as his voice rumbling was loud and confident.
“Cold?”
“A bit,” you said softly, staring at his back as he heaved the skin away from the animal, movements rigid and harsh. “Charles gave me his gloves, so it’s a little less chilly now.” You stumbled over your words, admiring his strength unabashedly as he hauled the skinned deer over his shoulder, slamming it down the table with a loud bang. He gave you no answer, instead bringing out the knife in his belt to do the job you were assigned to.
“Oh, let me!” Standing abruptly from your seat, you stepped towards him hurriedly in shame, feeling like you were just lazying around while Arthur was doing all the hard work.
Grabbing his thick coat to let you take his position, you found him staying right where he was, looking down at you when your hand rested on his bicep. It was unusual for him to be so close, and a blush warmed your cheeks as his towering frame became more apparent when standing a short distance from one another.
“S’alright.” He spoke lowly. “I’ve got it.”
Your breath got caught in your throat as he gazed wholly at you, letting you know he had no problem with helping you. It warmed you, finding his action kind–just like the small acts of kindness he reserved for the other girls. You would sometimes glare after them, intensely jealous that Arthur seemed to have a soft spot for them, yet acting like you didn’t exist.
“Anything else I can do to help since you just did my job for me?” A shy smile found you, peering up at him as he sniveled, glancing at you while you sat on the bench again.
“Well, you’ve already done your charity work for the day, so you’re fine.”
“Charity work?” You wondered, staring at him curiously as he cut through the meat. “What do you mean?”
He only sighed heavily, like you should be able to understand his cryptic words.
“He won’t die from a small burn; it ain’t enough reason to coddle the man like a child,” he grumbled.
It took you a while to get the gears turning, but when you did, you felt yourself grow shy from his statement. “Charles? His hand isn’t looking too good…”
“Yeah? Well, you shouldn’t be so forward. You’ll give the poor man false hope.” He scoffed, stabbing the poor carcass harshly.
Staring at his back in disbelief at the sudden hatred, you had trouble understanding where it came from and why he suddenly grew so invested in whom you diverted your attention. You and Arthur rarely spoke, only changing quick words occasionally ever since you found yourself staying with the gang, and for that reason, you had failed to understand the reason for his hatred.
It seems all you ever did was look after everyone else, paying attention to their various troubles and tribulations regarding bodily harm. It wasn’t strange to you, and by no means did you give anyone false hope, merely trying to find your place with these people, an attempt to prove your usefulness.
“False hope?” You questioned, baffled. “I’m trying to help; I fail to understand how that is a problem.”
“It ain’t a problem!” He grumbled, voice roaring hotly in his chest as he resheathed his knife and began to make his way out, repositioning his hat without glancing at you. You followed him, stopping short by the table as you didn’t want to stray too close to the fuming man.
“Well, it is since you are so angry about it?!” If this was how he carried out every conversation, you were glad the exchange of words wasn’t typical between you, more so the simple fact that your company had never seemed to bring him any enjoyment. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Wha-” He stops short, suddenly turning around and stalking towards you in significant strides. Gasping at suddenly having him so close, you backed away; his sharp eyes penetrated you as the warm blue of his orbs turned ice cold, glaring daggers into your own.
“What’s wrong with me?” He spoke dangerously low as his brows raised, grabbing your upper arms as he hoisted you up the table without an ounce of struggle. “I’m not the one taking every small, insignificant chance to take advantage of your good nature.”
“Charles’s not like that. He’s very kind.” You spoke in his defense, leaning back from his prolonged stare that seemed to cut through you deeper the more he stared. You had always pitied the people who got on Arthur’s lousy side, finding his presence at those times unnerving.
Now, it seemed you were at the receiving end of it, and while it chilled you to the bones, you weren’t sure if your beating heart were because of fear or the thought of him being the closest to you he’d ever have.
You had never quite got to admire his eyes, always hidden under his furrowed brows and squinting eyes. Now that it wasn’t because of the blazing sun down west, it was from the blaring whiteness of the snow surrounding you as you found his eyes glaring at the current climate more often than not–displeased.
His eyes being dead set on you didn’t help as you could hear his breathing grow heavier, the warmth of his breath hitting your cold cheeks as his broad frame blocked the chilly winds from reaching you.
“Kind, huh?” Although momentarily distracted, you recovered as you heard him speak in a low voice, still finding his assumptions wildly out of reach while insulting you and Charles. Times were hard, and if you couldn’t look after one another, it would surely lead to your doom–Arthur, if anyone, should know that.
“Yes, kind.”
Rubbing his eyes with one hand, he backed away from you, shrugging his shoulders while walking away–like your conversation hadn’t happened in the first place.
“Sure.”
–
It wasn’t like Arthur didn’t know how to restrain himself, for he applauded himself for avoiding his apparent anger when Charles had, yet again, stolen away your attention–not that Arthur had any plans on striking up a conversation with you anyway.
It became clear to him that when you two were left alone, you almost turned into a living statue, barely responding to him. It was unlike you, for the time he had spent observing you, you had no problem talking to anyone else–and although it was usually calm, it never deterred you from gaining the likes of the others and liking them in return.
Why did you cringe away from him and not Charles, he pondered, glaring at the picture that plagued his mind. The reason he knew, deep down, but his stubbornness didn’t let him justify your actions. In all honesty, Charles was a more reliable man than himself, intentions often apparent with a slight sense of, well, goodness perhaps—something Arthur didn’t possess in the slightest.
Goodness, in all honesty, wasn’t something he was too familiar with, and he didn’t doubt one second that you found his character to be callous, seeing as the dirty work no one wanted to do fell upon him; work everyone else found to be too cruel to do themselves. He could almost feel your disapproving gaze when he picked up his slack from Mr. Strauss’s poor victims that he always tried to prolong, and while it wasn’t his most favorable way of lending a hand, sometimes he did it out of spite.
If that’s what you thought about him, then he couldn’t do much to sway your opinion, finding it much easier to continue with his ways than realize that your sudden carefulness off him wounded him more profoundly than he let on.
And, he was indeed a harsh man in your eyes, and although his company wasn’t entirely unwished for, he was still grim–ignoring your presence like you weren’t there most of the time. It made you wildly unsure of him, but the allure he had kept bringing you back, always wondering when you would see a glimpse of him again. You chastised yourself for it, more so now that you got a taste of his famously sullen mood that pestered everyone around him, but your eyes were still drawn to him when he was nearby.
Maybe it wasn’t what everyone else would describe him as, but you thought of him as mysterious. Gods, you have stayed with this group for quite some time now. Not once had he spoken to you more than the standard greeting, and you didn’t know much about him besides the sharp-shooting, brutal force of a man who had no problem letting his thoughts be voiced, even though the listeners might be less inclined to its harsh deliverance.
He had been cruel, sure, but you couldn’t help but remember how close you had been before when he spewed words that clung so viciously from his tongue. Faintly, you remembered the deep scent of gunpowder and smoke, something you were certain probably penetrated his skin by now, but also the slightly musky scent hidden underneath. Your head raced in curiosity, wondering how his hands would grab you if it wasn’t in anger. Was he even capable of that, you pondered.
It’s ridiculous you knew those thoughts were born from misconceptions and assumptions. You had heard how he behaved amongst the camp women, forever gentle and careful, and you had sharpened your ear when you’d been told timidly about his earlier flings. He could be more heartfelt than your head let you acknowledge, and the thought made your head spin even more with your endless imagination.
Despite the inner turmoil that filled you from your earlier argument, you had avoided him for some days now, and it seemed to grow easier the colder you got, huddling close to the fire with every chance. It was the only thing keeping your thoughts occupied, wondering when you would get to leave this desolated mining town that grew more covered in snow the longer you chose to stay.
“Do you need help, Hosea?” Just after you spoke, heavy blankets were handed to you, the fabric made from a thick wool that looked heavenly. “Yes, thank you. I take one step outside; I fear that it will be the end of me.” You only stared warmly at Hosea, who patted you on the back. “Don’t you worry, miss. We found more blankets we thought had been lost in that dreadful storm, so we all will sleep warmer tonight.”
“Oh, of course, I’ll help-” Despite the whistling winds that had picked up as the sun shone its last tendrils, you didn’t oppose the idea, but you were interrupted by a mischievous look handed to you by the older man.
“Make sure Arthur grabs one, too; you know how he gets.” Before you could question his meaning, he slunk away, pulling the warm fabric tighter around his shoulders without a glance at you, chuckling merrily. You chose not to ponder too hard on his strange ways, instead making your way to the door, shivering badly as you stepped outside.
Smiles were all you were greeted with as you handed them off, and it was no surprise as it was a welcome sight to everyone to gain some extra warmth to wrap around themselves. Although feeling content by being of help, you couldn’t help but wonder where Arthur could be, a single blanket now left in your hands.
Grumbling to yourself, you stepped out from the hut Dutch and Molly resided in, glancing at a smaller building some paces away, finding the orange glow of a candle lighting up the smaller barn where the horses were kept. A small smile found you, finding it very fitting for him to be where there were fewer people.
Although slightly fearing what could come to be an awkward encounter, you found yourself being too forgiving many times, and you damned yourself for it. What he said hurt you deeply, making you ponder if you had given Charles other signals than intended. It could be a possibility, yet you had never had too many romantic dealings with men to presume that that was the case, but his eyes held something tender the last few times you spoke as you recalled it.
“Arthur…” As you stepped inside after pulsing through the thick snow, you searched for the blue coat you had grown familiar with in this weather. “Are you here?” You asked quietly, wondering if he could hear you.
You cautiously stepped further into the barn, placing your feet steadily on the ground before you so you didn’t slip and embarrass yourself. It was friendly out here, you could admit, the snow muting every sound and almost making every slight sound caress your ears.
As you stepped further inside, it turned out he was here, and he took no notice of you as you rounded the corner to gaze at his seated form, seemingly writing something in his journal. It was an unusual sight. Sometimes, you observed him as he wrote in his journal back at camp, yet you didn’t make a habit of it, too shy to question him at the time.
How he didn’t freeze to death in this climate was beyond you, his fingers bare as he scribbled, fingertips red from the cold and dirty from the chalk. You made a motion to speak up once again but found yourself tongue-tied as you took him in, and as you did, the thought struck you that he wasn’t writing but drawing.
How unlike him, you thought, watching his brows furrowed from time to time, fingers moving expertly while the soft glow of the candle beside him almost softened his features. Your presumptions might be harsh, but you had never found him to be a man well-versed in the creative aspect of life, and while the brutal ways of his life spoke for him, you found it to make him slightly more approachable.
“I didn’t know you draw.” You stated fondly, his eyes fitting into yours the moment the first word left your mouth, growing visibly stressed as the journal was planted into his coat pocket. A rough cough left him as he did, eyes faltering when he saw your observant gaze linger on him unabashedly.
“I don’t.” A small laugh left you at his abrupt words, not teasingly but perhaps warmly, choosing not to bug him since he grew uncomfortable before your questioning eyes.
You were given an expectant look that reminded you of your actual business here as you stepped inside the building, closing the barn door behind you to shut out the wind that somehow managed to find its way through the cracks in the walls.
“Here, we found some more blankets. Hosea asked me to bring you one.” You met his eyes briefly as you stretched out your arms for him to take the blanket, eyes faltering to it at his piercing gaze.
“Hosea, huh?” A scoff left him, resuming his arms to cross over his chest, shaking his head slightly. “You keep it.”
“No, I-”
“Nah, you chattering your teeth keeps us up at night. Take it.”
His words should have taken you back since his voice was stinging, but a light laugh left you, knowing he was right. Wrapping yourself in the soft, warm blanket, you surprised Arthur by sitting beside him, heavily clad shoulders touching each other as you did.
“I don’t understand.” You stated, staring at the large shadows that flickered on the wooden wall before you. “How can you not be cold? I feel like if I spend one more day out here, I’ll freeze to death.”
You turned your head towards him, caught off guard when you felt his gaze already set intensely on you. Your eyes faltered to his chest, growing shy as you always did when you had his attention on you. It wasn’t unwanted, but you didn’t know what to do with yourself in moments like that, unused to the fire that always burned so deep in his eyes.
“Used to it, I guess.” His voice rumbled hotly in his chest, fingers flexing against his will as he took the chance to observe you. He had never had the opportunity to see your face this close. Your wet lashes clung together as you blinked, undoubtedly from the heavy snowfall outside, framing your eyes that Arthur always noticed were so very easy to read, yet at many moments also locked away.
“I don’t believe you.” How could anyone possibly get used to this? It was raw, pure torture.
You didn’t get an answer, and as you returned your gaze towards the wall, Arthur’s eyes found your features again. He had indeed been cold before you came, but it was his only chance to find a moment of peace; the thought of spending another night in that god-forsaken hut with his dear friend and his lover giggling the night away grew incredibly distasteful.
Here, he could finally hear his thoughts, the solitude of the snow muting every sound heavenly; the only noise was the familiar scribbling in his journal as he wrote about the past few days. Though his head was calmer than before, he still dreamt of your fingers encasing his like they had done Charles, the small, elegant touches rising his arms slowly, making him shiver wildly as the scene flashed before his eyes.
He knew he shouldn’t think of you like that, and he certainly had no right to be angry at Charles since he felt so unabashedly filthy things about you, but he couldn’t help it. Your every scent, every motion set his blood afire; small deeds of good you always found yourself doing so harshly contrasted his actions he couldn’t help the fact that you intrigued his whole being.
So good, so… soft and warm. As he stared at you, all he wanted was to reach out and pull you closer to him so he could feel your shivering body close to him, knowing many ways to warm you up. Sighing, he removed his hat, running his fingers through his hair as the thoughts took a turn he always hated himself for.
“Hey, I uh…” Arthur trailed off, finding the words he wanted to speak stuck in his throat. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way, like I did back then.” He stared before him, yet he felt your eyes heavy on his.
He did feel bad, and it had been the reason for his brooding temper since then, not coming to terms with his wrongdoings until now. He had probably scared you, he concluded, and could only assume he was right as you had done your utmost to avoid him as of late.
“Don’t be,” you said with a light smile, not expecting his apology, even though he didn’t say sorry directly. “It’s a lot right now, I understand. But I still don’t understand why you’re so angry at Charles.” You were briefly met with a light sigh, eyes flickering to yours before diverting the flickering candle.
“Nah, forget it. Just me being stupid is all.”
“I don’t think you’re stupid. Maybe you’re mean sometimes and grumpy,” you said, giving him a teasing glance. “But not stupid.”
A scoff left him at your words, yet you could see the corners of his mouth chirp up lightly. “You’d be surprised.”
As your snickering died down, you rested your head on the wall behind you, not wanting to leave the quiet comfort you found yourself in nor the conversation that panned on longer than you had anticipated, much to your surprise.
“Why are you out here if you are so cold, girl?” He questioned you, catching a glimpse of your almost blue lips. “Go on inside; you’ll freeze to death if you stay here.” It would be best for you to return because he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if his thoughts progressed like they did before in your presence. As he placed the hat on his head again, he glanced down quickly, doing a double take as he found you staring at him.
Was the cold finally getting to your head, or was it simply being in the presence of the man you were so unsure of but wildly intrigued by? You couldn’t tell, but the warmth spreading in your stomach as he glanced down at you spread ferociously through your stomach, almost warming you to your fingertips.
Suddenly, Arthur moved his arm slightly, and the motion made you jump, leaning away from him as you unconsciously drew closer to him. You couldn’t tell, but it almost felt like your body sometimes contradicted your mind, defying your sense of morality.
“Are you afraid of me?” He questioned, gazing at you unexplainably. Both of your breaths were audible in the quiet night, blowing like smoke out your mouths as the world around you blurred. It wasn’t like Arthur couldn’t contain himself around women, but you were something else entirely. Only in his wildest dreams did you stare at him like that, like you were expecting–waiting– for him to do something.
Yet, you looked guarded, like a cornered lam, waiting for the right moment to sprint away. You pulled away, only to lean in further, the cogs in your head turning something so awful in your mind, observing his every move yet not registering your own that reached out to him.
And gods, did he want to do the same; his internal battle proved to be more difficult as your hand gripped his coat tightly, only wanting to warm your blue lips with his own and show you how he could warm you up better than Charles’s damned gloves ever could.
“Sometimes.” You let on, voice shaking from both anticipation and uncertainty.
Leaning down towards you hesitantly, he felt hot all over when he realized you didn’t shy away from him like expected, mouth only parting further as he drew closer. As you did, you felt your breath hitch when a hand was placed on your upper back, Arthur’s weight only making you glide further down the wall until your head was resting in the crook of his elbow.
“Arthur…” He was so close now you could almost feel his heartbeat through the vast amount of clothing, breath hitting your cold, blushing cheeks as he leaned closer, the calling of his name only drawing him in. He was sure you had bewitched him, for not a single thought in his mind was about anything but the woman in front of him, entirely and utterly overtaken by what was solely you.
And through those few moments between frustration and desperation, all senses of logic disappeared as the skin of your lips conjoined, drawn together like magnets that snapped together like they never wanted to be apart again. Eyes grew shut, the only sound now the deep humming in Arthur’s chest as your hands found his cheeks, caressing the chilly skin under your palm with your thumbs.
It was ragged and scarred, a deep contrast to your own that had never tasted the metal of a gun and the blood of a foe, and the thought made a gasp rise in your throat as his weight fell heavier onto yours, pressing you into the hay-filled, snowy ground.
“Tell me to stop.” He grunted against your now wet lips, only taking a second before joining them again. He was covering your entire body as he lay above you, resting his weight on his elbows as your head rested on his arm.
“No…” You mumbled, words almost not audible against his desperate mouth, feeling just as affected by the desire as he did. You felt his face scrunch up almost painfully before he took the hand that rested on your back to glide under your coat, resting it on the side of your waist as he stroked gently, feeling the curves that hid underneath the damned fabric.
It was torture. It was an unexplainable torture that you would freeze to death if he removed the clothes that covered you, and he would surely go insane if he couldn’t feel the skin he imagined would be so very soft under his rough fingers. Just a taste, he thought sinfully to himself, slowly lifting the fabric of your shirt from under your skirt’s waistband, worming a freezing hand inside to feel the warmth that hid underneath.
You gasped at the sudden sensation but were quickly silenced as his tongue massaged your own, and the slight moan that left you only made a groan rumble loudly in his chest. The feeling of his cold hand rose your skin, stroking every bit it came across as if memorizing it to his brain, mapping out every single inch.
It was too much for you, the sheer desperation and want, not knowing what to do with yourself or how to dampen the intense feelings that nailed your firm to the ground. Every bit of you grew into static, and every touch from Arthur sent shockwaves through your body as his fingers caressed you.
“Come here.” Opening your eyes, you found his, although lidded with desire, gentle eyes gazing into yours, pulling his hand reluctantly from your waist to help you sit up. “I won’t let you lay on the ground.”
You only stared at him as he seated you on his lap, chest flush against his as his hands stroked along your arms as if to warm you up, tightening the blanket around your shoulders. You felt your heartbeat pick up at his actions, your stomach fluttering fiercely as he ensured you stayed warm.
You could tell he grew wildly unsure as you remained silent, clearing his throat as if he had been in a daze before speaking.
“If you’ll have me, that is.” You didn’t give him a chance to say more, hands finding sanction in his hair as the motion knocked off his hat, exposing the sandy locks he always kept hidden underneath it.
“Stupid question.” You mumbled softly against his mouth, pressing yourself closer to him as your fingers started fiddling with the buttons on his coat. You could already feel the heat emitting, and your fingers grew hasty as you tried to move faster, the motion of your lips faltering against his eager ones.
You would have been ashamed if it weren’t for Arthur being just as stressed about getting the buttons of your coat loose, hands wounding their way around your waist and pressing you closer to him the moment they became undone. Likewise, you wormed your arms under his shoulder, gasping as you felt the heat buried underneath the fabric, hugging him close as you placed your face into the crook of his neck.
Breathing in your scent, Arthur revealed in the way you nuzzled against him, feeling a warmth spread in his groin when the thick coat didn’t keep the pressure of your middle away from him any longer. It was heaven, he concluded, trailing his hands down to your backside as he caressed the curves, pushing you flush against his.
Oh, how he reveled in it. He was selfish; there was no denying it any longer, but he craved you so profoundly it would eat him up bit by bit if he couldn’t have you. It wasn’t about Charles any longer; it was about the fact that you had never spared him a glance, almost bordering on fearing him, deciding that everyone else company had been much safer than his own.
He knew it and had seen it in your eyes countless times. Arthur wasn’t unfamiliar with the look of utter horror plastered on people’s faces, for he faced it every day, and he wanted nothing more than to show you that you had no reason to feel that way with him, for he would never put a single finger that was unwished for on you.
And he couldn’t possibly hold it against you, for he wasn’t a good man, quite the opposite actually, and every lingering touch made him hate himself even more, wishing you would find it in you to push away from him–let him know that if he ever touched you again, you would kill him.
But, he would find that you didn’t, instead only pressing yourself even harder against him in the cold of the night, breath shaking something so terribly as he moved your lower region against his in a gentle movement. It only fueled his want for you, hands struggling their way up your skirt, caressing your stocking-clad legs as he did, reaching your undergarments with a content sigh.
His touch lighted a path up your legs, the cold nothing but a memory now even though the brisk air found its way underneath your skirt, following his hands that caressed your inner thighs in soft motions.
It was suspenseful, waiting for the skin to touch the skin, for his strong hands to wound around you as he had already wormed himself around your heart. And as he did, the coil in your stomach grew so incredibly tight you felt like it was too much like his touch alone wounded your every fiber, but instead of hurt, it was an undeniable pleasure that hit you tenfold.
The hand that had crawled its way inside your undergarments stroked alongside your tender parts, never touching you where you wanted him the most–the place that longed for his touch. He had to be teasing you; there was no other explanation as he smiled softly at your expression, gasping for air as you gripped the sides of his arms, trying to push against his fingers.
“Ah, sweetheart.” He only cooed at you, gripping your wrists with one hand as his other finally glided over the wetness of your heat, gazing directly into your eyes with his sharp gaze, admiring your pleasure-filled face that begged him to give you more, to provide you with his all. And, as he spread your folds with his fingers, the filthiest whimper of pleasure left you, laying its noise into the quiet night with no worry about anyone hearing, only fools deciding to stray outside in this bleak, frigid night.
Falling into his arms yet again, you let him enter a finger into your warm cavern, gasping desperately for air as the unfamiliar stretch widened you, dragging wonderfully against your clenching walls. It was vile, the way Arthur reveled in how tight you felt against his finger, and as he pondered on how you would feel when he pushed it you. The thought made a striking, white pleasure shoot through him, making him grunt out against your neck.
“That good?” He spoke out, adding another finger into you while placing wet, hot kisses against your blazing neck, wanting nothing more than to hear your heavenly sound of approval.
You attempted to nod, but the motion was interrupted by the increasingly more extensive stretch from both of his fingers; gasping like a madwoman as you moved against his hands, wishing to pull his fingers even deeper into you, dissatisfied when you realized it didn’t do the job.
He could only groan when he realized your intention, slipping his coated finger from your warm heat, bringing them to his mouth quickly while his other hand found the zipper of his jeans, fumbling in a stressed fashion to get rid of the constraint.
A dissatisfied moan left you as he did, wishing for nothing more than to feel the delicious stretch yet again carry alongside your walls. But, as he fumbled with his zipper, you quickly got your senses together. You helped him undo his suspenders, then slipped underneath the fabric to trail your hand alongside the apparent bulge that stretched underneath, finding his groans to fuel your actions.
For a short while, your eyes met amidst the hurry your bodies experienced, and the moment slowed down to a halt as your lips found each other once more, moving against one another like starved men. You couldn’t be closer to him, and he couldn’t possibly be closer to you, and while you earlier had pondered that this was a good idea, you couldn’t imagine anything else at this moment.
And, as your hand wrapped around him momentarily, Arthur could feel his brain’s short circuit, like he had never been able to hold a single thought in his mind his entire life. You had to have bewitched him, for he complied to your every touch, body moving against your every move like your hand was glued to his body.
“God,” he mumbled against your lips that massaged his own, thrusting against your hand as you stroked him tenderly, gasping against him quietly. It wasn’t hurried but warm and slow, basking in each other’s presence like you had never before discovered the feeling of another’s touch against your own.
“That good?” You replied teasingly, mimicking his earlier words as you smiled a toothy smile, feeling him chuckle lowly at your apparent teasing, giving you a playful slap on your behind as his breathing picked up.
Suddenly, you felt a hand encase your own. As he removed it from his throbbing member, he only grabbed you closer, wounding his arms around your back as he pulled you into a hug, the feeling of him underneath you wonderful as you glided along it–moaning wantonly as the friction shot sharp streaks of pleasure up your body.
“Come on, sweetheart. I’ll warm you up.” As he spoke, he could feel himself shudder as your wet lips encased his tip, groaning audibly as he thought you rubbing against him. You were illegal, he concluded, for nothing could ever be allowed to feel this good–it wasn’t possible.
“Please,” you gasped against his lips, moving your hips slightly as you felt his hands circle your waist. “Please, Arthur.”
He hushed you quietly, finally feeling you wrap your lips around him as he slowly entered your warm cavern, the walls fitting him snugly as a grunt left him unexpectedly, lost in the pleasure you brought him.
While it felt too good to imagine, you could only keep your mouth open at the sensation, wondering how something could ever fill you up quite as good as this. Without a single thought, you sat down entirely, feeling him stretch you wonderfully as you wrapped around all of him, wounding your hands around his neck.
You didn’t need to move much, for he thrust up into you when you had gotten used to his size, feeling yourself being hitched up to his body as the motion made your whole body rise to then fall back down on him, once more filled to the brim. His grunting in your ears filled your senses, and while the slight consciousness entered your mind, wondering what you were doing, you pushed it far back, relishing in how your body responded to his.
Despite the cold that was surely creeping into your bones the more you stayed out here, the sound of skin against skin filling the empty spaces around you made you feel more connected to each other than you had ever felt with anyone else.
You started to move with him, bringing down your hips to meet his while he thrusts into you, growing more desperate by the minute. You found the hands hugging your waist, circling their arms around it, pushing you even further against him as you rested your hands on his cheeks, having no choice but to stare into his lidded eyes as he grunted roughly underneath you.
God, how he wanted to push you down onto the ground and drive into you, damning the snow that covered the ground. Instead, he glided down further from the wall, feeling your weight press against him more as your head found sanction in his neck, feeling his thrusts grow more in power as he pistoned into you harder from the new position.
“Arthur.” You breathed out, feeling the stretch of him grow as the position made him reach even deeper inside you, one arm reaching down to grab your bottom so he could hold you firmer against him.
“I know, honey.” He murmured, head growing dizzy as you clenched around him so wonderfully, mewling sweetly into his ears as you let him take control.
Did it make him an evil man for reveling in what he knew Charles would never gain from you? Maybe it did, but those thoughts were placed far back in his mind as your lips found his, small moans now muted as you grew desperate for his affection, growing insatiable to once more feel the fondness that laid in his every touch.
He had been so angry that someone else had gained the courage to do what he couldn’t, realizing he had been too late. Yet now, as you remain unknowing above him, it only made his lips plant themself firmer against yours, determined to make you understand that nobody could make you feel this way except him.
Grabbing the blanket off your shoulders, he threw it down towards the ground as you gasped, stroking your waist tenderly before slowing his movements.
Your breath heaved something so terrible, your voice shaking as you spoke. “Don’t stop, Arthur. Please.” He felt his stomach coil at your words, throbbing inside you as he moved to a seated position.
“I ain’t stopping, sweetheart,” he let on, leaning you backwards lightly. “Lay back for me, okay?” You did as he said without a protest, the cold now gone as your legs spread from him.
He almost groaned from the sight, taking a moment to observe you as you stared at him through lidded eyes, blushed cheeks so wonderfully red against the whiteness of the snow you almost looked like an angel–your hair spread like a halo around your head where you laid on the blanket.
Crawling over you quickly, he grunted as he felt your hand encasing itself around him, stroking slowly as you guided it to your clenching hole. For a moment, he felt a relief spread through him at the feeling of your walls surrounding him before the sheer and utter desperation set in, beginning to move into you at a faster pace than before.
Your breath hitched at the sudden movement, yet you gripped his arms to keep him there, not baring the thought of him stopping again. Being over you gave him more control, and his primal instincts set in as the coil in his stomach shot burning flashes throughout his body, wanting nothing more than to feel your warm walls around him forever. Maybe it was the desire talking, but he swore that the thought of you being like this with any other man than him would make him heave.
Encasing his arms around you as your hands found his hair, he felt your legs wrap around his waist, now so close he was grounding into you relentlessly. Rough yet tender, he moved into you with care, but you could feel that he was holding back as he panted above you.
“Don’t stop!” You begged him once more amidst his thrusts, pulling on his strands as his lips found the softness of your neck. Why you were begging, you couldn’t say, oblivious to the words leaving your mouth in utter bliss.
“Hm?” He mumbled, smiling lightly from hearing your ruined voice beg him. He felt like a sick man gaining pleasure from it, but his mind was too hazy to take notice, longing to hear those words leave your sweet mouth once more. “What was that?”
“Don’t stop,” you voiced breathlessly as his hand found your breast, rolling the nub softly between his rough fingers. Despite your begging, for his own sickly twisted pleasure his hips ceased their movements, moving torturously slow as he raised his elbows to stare at your tear-filled eyes.
They shot open as he slowed his pace, displeased he didn’t listen as you already felt shameful for sounding so desperate. You couldn’t help it, for it felt too good, and now that he had stopped, you wished he never had. Was he teasing you? The thought made you blush from embarrassment and annoyance, pleading with your eyes.
“No…” You mumbled, trying to move against him, yet his hands held you firm against the ground.
“Say it.” Arthur’s voice was coarse as he spoke, grabbing your hand to place tender kisses on it as your displeased sounds reached his ears. He only got a confused look, smirking slightly at the longing and apparent dissatisfaction plastered on your face. A biting shadowed lust replaced his usually sharp eyes as he watched you, carnal written deeply in his eyes.
“My name, sweetheart. Let me hear you say it.” Suddenly, he pistoned his hips against you, driving up your wet walls as a mewl left you from the sudden force. You felt his intense eyes on you as your eyes shut momentarily, and through your blurred vision, they didn’t stay open for long.
“Arthur,” you moaned, eye-rolling into the back of your head as your back arched, a wave of pleasure shooting through you at his demands. He held the same controlled yet sensual pace, knowing he’d slip out of you if he went any harder. Still, his accuracy was wicked–hitting the right spot with every move.
“That’s it,” he praised you, placing another kiss on your palm as his thrusts increased, grunting roughly as your walls squeezed him tightly. You break into sobs as you reach out to grasp his arms, tilting his head up just enough to let you know he’s watching you, his hazy gaze roving over the devastation on your face.
The snow around you mutes the sound of skin hitting skin as he sets a brutal pace. “I didn’t tell you to stop, sweetheart.” The deep rumble in his chest as he spoke the words laced with possessiveness made your heartbeat pick up faster than it already was, the light ringing in your ears increasing as your body was hoisted up with each of his thrusts.
You call his name like a prayer amidst the pleasure, and satisfaction at hearing his name come so sinfully from your mouth made his eyes roll back, knuckles turning white from gripping the ground so harshly. Oh, you had no idea that every noise you let out from his advances made his heart soar with pride, feeling the softness of your skin under the palm of his hands.
Arthur feels the abrupt stop of movements from your hand, gripping tightly on his arms as you spasm around his cock, clenching tightly as the pads of his fingers come down to rub at your swollen nub as your orgasmed, a loud whine leaving you at the contact. It’s too much for you, the sensation too unfamiliar yet devastatingly addictive–not knowing if you wanted to drive your hips away from his brutal assault or enjoy him even more profoundly.
Even if you had decided on the prior, he didn’t let you, pushing you firm against the ground as he twitched inside you at the noises you let out, groaning lowly as he came inside your warm walls, planting himself deep inside you.
“Christ-” He grunts out, teeth clenched as you feel his cock throb inside you, cum gathering at the base of him as his hips slow to deep thrusts, grinding into you in sheer pleasure as the knot in his stomach unleashed, feeling you placing small kissed on his neck.
The slight motion made him smile amidst his pleasure-filled mind, caressing the curves of your waist as he nestled his head into your neck, still panting heavily. As you both calmed down, it didn’t take long for your hand to find his, fingers wounding themselves around the others in the blissful aftermath.
As you opened your eyes after catching your breath, you found a pair of blue ones already gazing at you. You didn’t speak for a while, both of you trying to digest the situation as tiny snowflakes could be seen falling from the sky through the cracks in the walls. It reminded you of how cold you should have been, but with Arthurs’s broad chest covering you, it felt like you were clinging to a furnace.
“Shit, you must be freezing.” He suddenly let out, shaking his head slightly as if in a daze before rising to pull you with him. As he pulled your skirt down your legs, rubbing them between his hands to warm you up, you could only stare at him in quiet wonder.
“What?” He grumbled out, sniveling lightly as he glanced at you. Had you not wanted this, he wondered, doubt starting to fill his mind. You were too quiet for his liking, only staring at him as he tried to prolong touching your soft skin, fearful of the hurtful words that were sure to come.
“Are you jealous of Charles?”
If crickets had been this far north, they would surely be the only thing audible as Arthur stopped. Bear of a man, hardy and stubborn to many, yet a faint blush could be seen rising to his cheeks as his face lowered–wishing so dearly he could find his hat that had seemingly disappeared so he could hide.
If he had been looking at you, he would have seen the toothy smile covering your face, a tender laugh leaving you as your assumptions became reality. You had to give him credit, though, for he had you completely and utterly fooled.
“No.” He stated firmly, rising on his legs to pull up his pants. He found himself unable to, though, your hand grabbing his suspenders to pull him back down. The same heat that had lessened in his stomach came back as he felt your nimble touch caress him through his pants, gaining a mischievous look from you as you widened your legs.
“Don’t worry, Arthur. I’ll give Charles his gloves back if you stay here and keep me warm.”
Oh dear, that would do it. Whatever thoughts that filled his mind flew out the window, wholly consumed by you as your hands caressed his back, staring expectantly up at him.
“Only me, right?”
“Only you, stupid.”
#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan smut#arthur morgan imagine#arthur morgan x female reader#arthur morgan#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption imagine#red dead redemption smut#red dead smut
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fem reader. both reader and yuji get zero bitches. waxing.
I was having thoughts about Yuji getting his first wax at this really cute spa— its the new year so he’s really trying to make the effort of taking this whole “self care” thing he’s been seeing on TikTok seriously. He seems like the type to be pretty hairy down south anyway and in turn he trims it here and there but he never really upkeeps the maintenance. He wants to see what this waxing thing is all about.
So, he books the appointment and he gets you as his esthetician. He’s nervous! But also very excited! He booked a facial as well as the wax so you of course take very good care of him. The conversation is flowing beautifully and there’s a bit of chemistry there. He also thinks you’re drop dead gorgeous and when he walked into the studio, he tripped over his shoelace but that’s neither here or there.
When it’s finally time for the wax? You’re prepping everything all nice and instruct him to take off his pants and boxers— and Yuji immediately freezes. He’s all like “What do you mean?” so you look at him from over your shoulder because you think he’s being silly but the look of genuine confusion on his face lets you know he’s being deadass serious. You tell him, “Well, I can’t wax you with your pants on now can I, cutie?” as sweet as can be, its almost a little maternal too the way you say it.
Poor Yuji. He didn’t really think about any of this fully through. He mentally punches himself in the face because of course he would have to expose himself to the esthetician, that’s just how a Brazilian wax works! Yuji doesn’t want to make it awkward so he complies and takes off his pants and underwear before he lays back onto the table. God, he’s never felt so embarrassed in his life! Is the lamp really necessary..? The warmth of it did feel pretty nice. That’s beside the point anyway.
As he’s laying there while you dilly about with your back turned to him, his mind starts to wander. When was the last time he’s had a woman’s touch? It feels like ages because it kind of has. A year? Almost close to a year. He can’t really remember. Yuji thinks you’re pretty and a good time— you’re easy to talk to and if he didn’t know any better, he thinks he might have a tiny, little crush on you. He’s already been thinking about booking another service just so he can see you.
The thought is super cute, but what isn’t cute is Yuji fighting every single demon, every single thought— nearly trying to astral project so he won’t get hard. You didn’t give him a warning before wrapping your gloved hand around his shaft and he jumped, which did get a giggle and a little “Feeling jumpy today, are we?” out of you. He played it off with a bashful little “Sorry.” before relaxing again. You’re not really doing much but your job and that’s why he feels like such a pervert when all the blood from his skull has rushed to his cock.
For him, it’s like this huge elephant in the room but for you? You don’t mind, there’s always a possibility which is why you don’t take male clients but Yuji is the only exception because he’s cute and seems like a good boy. He probably thinks that he has a poker face but there’s a reason why you keep cooing at him because he’s definitely the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. It’s so desperately obvious that he’s trying to think about the most unpleasant and uncomfortable things but it’s not working.
As the service continues, Yuji is not longer trying to keep from stay hard but he’s now rather trying not to cum all over your hands and his chest. But it’s becoming increasingly difficult to do so. He peeks down every now and again to see the progress, he keeps telling himself “She’s almost done, she’s almost done.” that he needs to hold out for just a few minutes more then he can put his pants back on. But, unfortunately it doesn’t seem to work out like he would have hoped to plan.
Your hand slid up his cock with just enough pressure and friction to make him blow his, really fat load actually. He desperately tried to grab your wrist before it happened but it was already too late, the broken protest turned into a pitiful moan halfway, the panicked jerk of his body.. truth be told you thought it was sweet. You’ve also been going through a dry spell yourself. Your last ex made you want to do some healing but with that came with stepping out of the dating pool and no casual sex.
You, yourself felt like a bit of a pervert standing here with a man putty in your fingertips. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry” was all that left his lips as you cleaned him with with a Kleenex but all you could say in return was:
“Can I..? Have your number?”
#┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° bria writes!#yuji itadori#jujustu kaisen#yuji itadori x reader#yuji itadori smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk yuji x reader#jjk itadori#fem!reader#female reader
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A New Purchase
Eddie Munson x fem reader
Word Count: 1.6k
When you come home only to discover your boyfriend has bought something completely ridiculous.
Warning: 18+. p in v, riding.
Here's the little thing we talked about the other day @munson-blurbs @lofaewrites @chrissymjstan @hellfire--cult (it isn't as good as I think it could be but oh well)
Masterlist
Eddie was almost giddy with excitement when he saw the Facebook marketplace posting. The aluminum body was a bit rusted and the inside fabric was also questionably stained but hey it was a decoration for three hundred dollars and local pickup, hell yes, he was buying it.
The only thing Eddie didn’t realize was that it wasn’t a small decoration. No… it was real and he had no clue where he was going to store it until Halloween. Then came the brilliant idea of testing it out. He only wanted to know what it would be like to lie there, how comfortable would it be?
That’s how you came to find Eddie lying in a casket in the middle of your living room.
Walking through the door you stop suddenly, as the small walkway between the wall and the back of the couch is blocked. Eddie is lying there, eyes closed and hands crossed over his chest.
“Eddie, what the fuck are you doing?”
He can’t help the grin that paints his once stoic features. He squints open his eyes as he begins to laugh. “I’m testing out my new purchase. Do you like it?”
You sigh and whip your hand over your face, shaking your head. “What on Earth possessed you to buy a casket? Wait, hang on, where did you buy a casket?”
He sits up, resting an arm on the side, and goes into his explanation. “You are never gonna believe it, fucking Facebook Marketplace. It was so cheap and to be honest I thought it was a fake one that would have been maybe a foot or two tall but nope. Imagine my surprise when I get to this guy's house and he rolls this baby out. He slaps the side panel for emphasis. He even threw in the church trucks for free so it would be really easy to move around.”
You just chuckle and shake your head. “Okay, then why did you buy it?”
“I figured we could use it to decorate for Halloween and also because when I saw it was actually real I just had to test it out. Take it for a test drive before I actually do kick the bucket.” He said it so seriously like it was the most obvious reason in the world.
“Eddie, really?”
“Oh, come on babe, like you’ve never thought about laying down in one of these bad boys.”
“Contrary to what you might believe, no, no I haven't.”
Eddie reaches out then, making a child-like gesture of opening and closing his hand. You walk forward and curl your fingers around his. “Switch places with me, see how it feels.”
“No, I’m not getting in there.” You laugh.
“Why not? Do you really want the first time you experience this to be when you’re dead? You won’t even know if it's uncomfortable or not.” He pulls you forward even more.
“Eddie no-”
“Come on… If you won’t switch then get in with me.”
You give in, sighing playfully as you bend down and crawl into the cramped casket. Eddie tries his best to shift over so you have space, but the area inside is only so big and definitely was never intended for two.
You both are laughing when your knee suddenly loses its steadiness, atop the thin, almost non-existent padding layered over the metal bottom, and slides out from under you and you fall on top of Eddie’s chest with an “oomph”. You look up and you catch a glint in his eye as they darken just a bit.
It’s a familiar look, one that he has given you so many times no matter the situation or surroundings. A look that he knows you will give into.
“Don’t look at me like that.” You plead with him, knowing where this will end.
Eddie looks at you, eyebrows raised in faux confusion. “I’m not looking at you in any particular way, Sweetheart.”
You slap his chest playfully. “Eddie you are giving me your ‘I want sex’ eyes and I am not going to, not here.”
“Baby,” He wines. “Come on. It’ll be sexy. We could even role-play as vampires.”
“No-”
“Please.” Eddie reaches his hand to cup your cheek, pleading softly as he brings his face closer to yours. You are trying to fight it but you know you can’t and Eddie knows too. As soon as he looked at you with those sultry brown eyes, you were plyant in his grasp.
When his lips press into yours, you sigh, relaxing into him. Your fingers curl into his shirt and you inch up, caging his hips between your thighs. It hasn’t even been thirty seconds from when the kiss started and you can already feel him hardening under you.
Pulling away, you mumble into him, lips barely touching. “Does it really turn you on thinking of fucking here?”
Eddie nods and surges forward to reconnect your mouths. His tongue flits past your lips and finds its way inside, caressing your own.
You're barely-there resolve crumbles as you begin to roll your hips into him. You can feel his hard length as you grind, his breath catches in his throat.
"Fuck baby," he mumbles against your lips. "Need to feel you around me."
There is a heat coursing through you, clouding your mind as your fingers begin to unbutton his pants.
Eddie is eager, his hips press up into your hands, pushing you to free him faster. The blue cotton of his boxers has turned a deeper color in a small spot where the head of his cock rests, the precum there being soaked up by the cloth.
You slide a nail up his covered shaft and a great shiver overtakes his body under you. "Don't tease me- please."
A chuckle bubbles out of you. "But that's the fun part."
Eddie just whimpers in response.
You begin pushing your fingers past the elastic waistband. You pull the fabric down and bring your other hand up to help situate both his pants and boxers down to his mid-thigh.
His cock springs forward and you can't help the feeling of absolute lust coursing through your veins. You need him inside you, now.
You silently thank your past self for deciding to wear a dress today. In your need, you don't think you would be able to wrangle yourself out of a pair of pants.
Firmly you take Eddie's cock into your hand. He hisses at the new pressure you ar editing him.
"Fuck baby, just like that." His hips jump into your touch.
"Gonna let me fuck myself on you? Gonna let me take what I want?"
Eddie only nods. Words have left him as he stares into your sultry gaze.
You begin to stroke him, up and down, spreading the stickiness leaking from his tip with your thumb.
Then, you begin to scoot up his body. Hovering over him. Eddie watches in awe as you take him up in one hand and move your panties over with the other. A slow moan releases itself from your as you begin to sink down on him.
Eddie's cock was perfect. It always felt so good to be wearied around him, his head pushing deeper into you.
Both of your breathing is labored. You try to keep yourself calm, you don't want to rush into riding him, you want to take your time making each of you feel wonderful. Eddie. On the other hand, is trying not to combust as he lays there and watches.
The way your dress is hiked up around your beautifully, thick thighs, how his cock disappears into you, surrounded by a curly thatch of hair.
God he loved you. It was the only way to explain why his heart was beating out his chest.
You groan as you feel him entering you. There is a slight burn as you stretch around him. Slowly, you begin to move your hips. Eddie starts to make choked noises and his hands reach out to grab you. His fingers grip your hips, helping you grind into him. Your own hands grasp at his covered stomach.
There was an ache building as you moved. Low in the depth of your stomach and it began to grow. The more you fucked yourself onto Eddie the more the ache was felt. IT had you clenching down around him. You cunt milking his cock of everything he could give you.
Eddie’s hands caress your body. When his fingertips touch skin, it's like an electric shock goes through you.
“Eddie-” You moan.
“I know, love.” He mummers.
“Can feel you so deep.” You grind harder, shivering as your clit rubs against his pubic bone. “Need more.”
“Yeah? Take it, baby, take anything you want.”
You catch Eddie’s hands and guide them up under your dress and to your breasts.
He hums in approval as he pushes your bra down and begins to play with your nipples, pinching and pulling them slightly.
Your head lolls to the side, hair falling down around you. It’s taking so much energy for you to keep moving. Your legs are beginning to tire out, there is a sting in your muscles. Your knees are screaming at you as they dig into the not-so-comfortable foam at the bottom of the casket.
Body becoming rigid, you cry out, moaning Eddie’s name loudly into the living room. Your fingers cling to him as your body caves into him. You can no longer keep moving so Eddie begins bucking his hips into yours, helping you to ride out this high and bring him to his own.
Eddie lets you fall almost completely on top of him once he’s finished. His arms wrap around you, your breaths in sync with the other.
As you rest your forehead on Eddie’s chest, you feel the tiny movement of him jerking. He’s trying not to laugh.
You crane your neck to look up at him. “What?”
He shakes his head.
“Eddie.”
“Nothing, just that we fucked in a casket.” His smile was as wide as could be,
You let your head fall and you laugh into his chest. “Don’t get used to it.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#joseph quinn#joseph quinn x reader#joseph quinn smut#stranger things x reader#stranger things smut#stranger things fic#female reader
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Their favourite physical part of you!
Rottmnt x gn! reader
Warnings:
Includes both sfw and nsfw(not direct action) the nsfw only goes for the future versions of the turtles!
A/N:
I finally posted! Shocker i know. I didnt have any ideas but this js popped up cuz i used to love hc like these. I've never written for gn reader so pls give some tips, ty!
Sfw:
Donnie
- This dude likes your hands. He likes when you hold hands and how they fit perfectly in his.
- he LOVES to play with them too, especially when he has nothing to do or when hes stressed.
- Even tho he isnt big on physical touch, he LOVES when u hold his face. But i feel like he would actually enjoy it as long as it isnt unexpected or when hes irritated!
- he would probably try and sneakily hold ur hand around family without anyone noticing bc he will not hear the end of it (*cough cough* Leo.)
- probably zones out while watching u do anything with ur hands (paint, write, even fiddle with random stuff)
- you probably have him melting if u ever try and give his shoulders a gentle massage with your hands
- in short, he loves ur hands and holds them any chance he gets cuz hes touch starved af.
Bonus: you guys probably have some morse code and he taps his fingers a certain way if he feels uncomfortable and wants you to leave the room with him.
Leo
- i think its obvious he would like your hair.
- He loves playing with your hair when you guys are cuddling.
- will style your hair. Maybe even ask Mikey to join in too. Youll probably end up with atleast 50 hair clips by the end of it.
- if u have long pretty hair u bet he WILL DRAMATICALLY SOB once u cut it off, but he loves it regardless.
- melts and grins like an idiot if u dye it blue. Brags to his brothers about it.
- "guys look! See? See? They love me so much they dyed their hair blue!"
- low-key jealous u have hair..
- I also hc that he loves ur arms too!
- oh lord dont get me started on the arms. If you're a bit muscular and u start flexing/training he would be dead. Gone. In the grave.
- even so he would love to have you wrap your arms around him
- dude wants to be babied so badly
Mikey
- ADORES your smile and your eyes.
- he loves how your eyes lit up when youre excited. Or the way a smile keeps up on your lips when you talk about something your passionate about.
- your sweet giggles are heavenly atp.
- loves loves loves loves the way u praise him when he creates something.
- you have this boy head over heels.
- the way you look at him with complete love in your eyes makes him want to sob on the SPOT.
- you're so adorable he just wants to kiss u on the spot (cuteness aggression atp)
- he js wants to see you happy :(
Raph
- i feel like he would also like your hands. Theyre so small compared to his.
- Loves everything atp, tho he does get scared. Especially if you're smaller than him. Hes so scared that he'll crush you!
- probably likes your cheeks.
- bro would squish and cup them then just slightly nuzzle your noses.
- gets flustered when you cup his cheeks too
NSFW‼️ Aged up!
If you do not wish to see any of this, please exit!
Thighs, chest or ass?
F! Donnie
- if i have to be completely 100% honest? He doesnt care about any. At all. Just loves you.
- but if i had to give an answer for sake of these hc? thighs. No words. Just thighs.
- loves it when you crush his head between them.
- will grip your thighs, leaving slight marks but not enough to actually hurt you. He doesnt want that.
- loves leaving marks and kisses on them.
- if hes stressed because of a failed project, he'll just lay between your thighs in your shared bed. Occasionally giving a small nibble here and there.
- If you're wearing short shorts, good luck.☠️ Do not expect slow and passionate Donnie.
F! Leo
- all of the above.
- mostly an ass and chest guy.
- He would probably slap your ass occasionally, but not hard enough to hurt you. Again, he hates that.
- but if you beg him to do that? He'll be hesitant but if you beg hard enough he might.
- leaves bite marks.
- I did say he loves your arms and when you flex them, but he also loves your chest.
- your gender doesnt matter. He notices you panting and your chest rising up and down?
- Lord. This man does not know is he wants to dominate you or be dominated.
- Loves trailing teasing kisses and slight bites up and down your chest.
- Loves to cum on your chest and ass. He thinks you look so pretty.
- still wants to shove his face in your thighs tho
F! Mikey
- Again, he probably doesnt care either. He loves you regardless of your body.
- He just wants to make you feel loved.
- But again, for the sake of this - i think he'd be a chest and thighs guy.
- Loves laying on your chest, loves leaving kisses and bites.
- nuzzles his face either on your chest or on the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent.
- hes so sweet, but will shamelessly cum on your chest. Especially when youre giving him head.
- he loves your thighs, doesnt care if theyre small or big.
- he thinks theyre so soft<3
F! Raph
- Waist. And belly. Forget everything above, just waist.
- Again, bros scared he will crush you. Especially since hes much much much larger now.
- He really doesn't want to hurt you :(
- He loves to grab your waist. Its so tiny compared to his giant hands.
- Dont get me started with the belly. Chubby or not he loves squishing the soft flesh on your belly.
- covers it with his cum.
- He loves it.
Important!
I just wanted to say these are not meant to be accurate, these are js what i think the rise turtles would like physically! I struggled a LOT with mikey and raph.
#rise leo x reader#rise donnie#rise of the tmnt#rise!donnie x reader#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise leo#rise mikey#rise raph#rottmnt future leo#rottmnt future donnie#rottmnt future mikey#rottmnt future raph#rottmnt donatello#rottmnt mikey#rottmnt#tmnt 2018#rise raph x reader#raphael rottmnt#rise donnie x reader#rise mikey x reader#leo hamato#leonardo hamato#donnie hamato#donatello hamato#mikey hamato#michelangelo hamato#raph hamato#raphael hamato#leonardo tmnt#tmnt donatello
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How NoirPunk Meets - Hobie Brown x Noir!Peter Parker Headcanons
a/n: listen okay these two just hear me out- just listen i swear these two are perfect for each other on god i promise just trust me
also i be calling noir peter if thats okay i dont really see that much
—————————————————
So let's just be honest they're a large part of why the other sticks around in the society, and I wouldn't be surprised if -
Hobie was the one that finally got Noir!Peter to join
I really like the idea that Hobie was the thing that convinced him to join.
I mean, Peter has his own shit going on, he's not just fighting Goblin and the usual villains - he's actively trying to stop a fascist regime and thought system.
I could absolutely see the society approaching him multiple times, and Peter just declining. He's the brooding type to work alone, and (aside from learning about color), it wouldn't be surprised if he was just uncomfortable with this whole 'secret society of superhumans that controls the flow of history' thing...because, y'know
So as a last ditch effort, Miguel and Jess ask Lyla whose left and who's algorithmically their best bet at recruiting him
And Lyla is like '..You know who ;) '
Miguel is like 'Jesus Christ anyone but him' - because they barely send Hobie on missions for a reason!! He's a huge wildcard
and convincing Hobie to recruit someone else is a whole different story for another time
Hobie went to Peter's universe already planning to have him as an ally
It was only after they debriefed him on Spider-Noir and what he does that Hobie agreed
Even from his case file - which Hobie thinks it's creepy they have that but whatever - Hobie admired him and his activism
SO much of world theory and social understanding developed from the thirties onward, so already he'd feel a connection and understanding, being almost impressed by Noir
And despite what he lets on to Miguel, Hobie is smart and informed as fuck, and from his large knowledge of world history, so he already knew what he was getting into
But the first time he stepped into Noir's universe it was like turning the world on its head
It really shocked Hobie, which is pretty hard to do
It was like going from the world's loudest room to dead silence. It's a kind of serenity that kind of puts Hobie at ease. The rain, the darkness, the quiet, all that
Which is why Peter comes home one night to Hobie just chilling in his apartment like it's nothing
He's just laid out on the couch like 'Oh great, for a second I thought The Man was going to have you working all night.'
And like COME ONNNN could you imagine from Peter's POV
Working literally all night, tired as hell, coming home to the dark of his apartment with the rain outside, and he just finds Hobie, vibrant and pink on his couch, his color the only thing in the room
Usually Peter turned away all the others from the society, but he felt like Hobie might be different
So he let him stay, and offered to hear him out
But what's supposed to be a recruitment pitch turns into hours of Hobie and Peter at Peter's kitchen table, shooting the shit and talking about anything
Peter makes them some coffee as Hobie looks over Peter's book collection, smiling at the ones filled with Peter's notes and thoughts in the margins
Peter is almost taken a back, because Hobie is so bold and out there and worldly
He's surprised to meet someone actually interested in justice - real, actual justice - and equality. Someone whose ready to talk about it so openly and say 'hey fuck this amiright'
It's SO refreshing to Peter
He's impressed that Hobie has all of this vocabulary, describing complex ideals that were still being formed and whispered about in 1933.
In a universe full of rain and shadows and shades of grey, meeting Hobie is like falling into an oil painting for Peter. He's full of color and humor and ease and confidence - his humor is scathing and honest, and Hobie's the first one to make Peter laugh at a joke about anti-capitalism
The first night they meet they kinda just get lost in each other
And UHHHH yeah they keep going
Hobie comes back the first night and tells Miguel that he's 'still staking Noir out', not telling him they've actually met
And for the next four nights, Hobie came over to Noir's place, just to see him, and talk
Peter knows why Hobie's there, and Hobie isn't trying to hide it. In the beginning he tells Noir straight up that he's here for recruitment, that he thinks it's bullshit, and that eventually he's going to do something about it
But he asks Noir to join because, yeah, Hobie likes him a lot, and he wants to see him more. And he thinks he'd be one of the most valuable allies to have, ever.
Noir is literally his comrade.
And Noir agrees (, but he probably will have some terms and conditions to take up with Miguel later, like the kind of missions he will do, the amount of time he can and can't spend away from his dimension, etc)
But for the next four nights, they spend it just with each other, learning each other and trading ideas, drinking coffee in Peter's apartment and listening to vinyls
And they just make each other so soft
Sometimes, Hobie brings papers from his world to show Peter
The third time he visits, Hobie brings him a stack of zines - colorful little booklets full of collages and bold ink
On some nights, Hobie reads over Peter's first drafts at his kitchen table, watching Peter make coffee on the stove, the old-fashioned way
People at the Bugle start to notice that even if it's subtle, Peter seems more at ease and easygoing, and he has DOZENS of new, forward thinking ideas in his writing that he's excited about
Meanwhile Hobie's been in a great mood (which Miguel hates cause he's a hater like that)
He asks Hobie for a status report, and Hobie smuggly tells him that the missions accomplished
And Lyla is grinning her little ass off because OF COURSE she knew that algorithmically they're romantically compatible
(And YES Lyla sets up mission teams based on her own little matchmaker algorithm without Miguel's permission because she thinks its funny)
From then on Noir requests he either be assigned solo missions or missions with Hobie
And they go around HQ calling each other their 'partner' and neither refuses to elaborate any further
Mission partner? Dating partner? Partner-in-crime? ALL THREE.
__________
im obsessed with these geniuses. look at what they've done to me (and by they I mean myself I've done this to myself)
hi thxs for reading also this was not proofread so if you see a typo my adhd says no you didnt
#spiderman#marvel#marvel comics#spider noir#spidernoir#Peter parker#noir!peter parker#hobie brown#hobie brown x peter parker#punknoir#noirpunk#shipping#atsv#across the spiderverse
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Pairings: blade x reader | jing yuan x reader
Synopsis: After a tragedy that consumed two of his companions, the face that he secretly longed for unexpectedly appeared before him once again. But this time his heart is filled with hate.
Tags: angst | stellaron hunter! reader | enemies to lovers | past tragedies
a/n: can I say the stellaron hunters are the coolest faction ever. like its where badass bitches belong! | i'll release jing yuan's route some time later lmaoo i'm so bored i do shit like this | trying out my favs with fav/popular tropes while i still have the brain
During that time when Blade got caught by the Xianzhou, you felt like your heart leaped out of your chest as soon as you heard the news from Kafka, who was sporting a rather laid-back smile.
"What? Don't look at me like that. Bladie is going to be fine. He's a big guy now." she said while going through your own collection of coats, something you picked up while shopping with her and the guy that follows behind like a guard dog.
He always looked at you with a scowl when you were a new recruit. Simply speaking, if looks could kill, you'd be dead long before this unserious turn of events...where Kafka also got caught. Yet this time upon silently watching the fiasco from somewhere, you're not the least bit worried. How could you when the woman herself was smiling like a maniac as she was caught by the master diviner. You seriously think it's time for you to leave this group of wild lunatics who casually gets taken as prisoners.
As you sigh and leave, Kafka's voice suddenly rings in your ear.
"Be patient, Elio will talk to you soon about a very important mission."
A mission that entails "saving" her but unfortunately, Blade had escaped and is standing before you with the usual expression on his face. Sure, this guy probably carries a lot of baggage but you can't help but feel uncomfortable with him. Especially when a little fight occurs between the two of you about who gets to save Kafka.
"What are you doing? Elio tasked me with this. I met him!"
"..."
Then he suddenly takes off while you follow after him, taking down enemies behind like some kind of sidekick while he attempts to take the spotlight of appearing before the trailblazers. But of course, you don't let him. You remain firm in doing what Elio told you, glaring at Blade while holding off the pursuers together.
You roll your eyes as he acts a little goofy in your sight, acting all charismatic with his sword drawn and all that. You even failed to hold your laughter with the way he dove, quickly pulling out your phone to snap a photo of Blade, then sending it to Silver Wolf because you're too scared of the consequences if you dare send it to the group chat. Blade might actually kill you if that happens.
look at him, he looks so stupid
But unbeknownst to you, the general himself saw you that time, and for him, it seemed like everything stopped and faded into the background. Your swaying hair and glowing eyes were what stood out at first. But then—you also had a face that eerily resembled someone from his past.
It is now revealed to the Xianzhou that the Stellaron Hunters aren't threats. You had no reason to come back to the Luofu anymore, it's all up to their alliance on what to do with the problem they're currently facing. The Stellaron Hunters had done their part as Kafka had said, but before you could board the spacecraft, you suddenly voiced out your decision—or rather, Elio's decision for you.
It felt ridiculous, really, listening to someone and doing whatever they tell you like a dog. It didn't feel good to you but as soon as you landed in the Luofu, something pulled you to stay there just as Elio had said.
"I'm staying. You guys should go ahead."
Kafka turned to you with a little smile on her face, seemingly understanding the situation. But surprisingly, Blade stiffly turned and had an unreadable expression on his face. He seemed mad—his furrowed eyebrows were a clear indication.
"Why?!" he's a man of few words but this single question made his voice akin to a roar. Even Kafka turned and boarded the craft, leaving you and Blade alone.
"Why not? Elio told me." You lied, he never told you to stay. Yes, he had an influence with his persuading words. But naturally, you'll take this route to feed on your curiosity because it always feels like there are missing pieces inside you. "I'll be staying here and that's final. It's none of your concern." You said while crossing your arms and Blade's eyes squinted.
You saw that he has his fists clenched, veins popping out as you raised your brows, also getting mad at whatever show he was putting on.
"What is it to you? Can't the Stellaron Hunters function without me?" And when he doesn't reply, you just roll your eyes and waved to leave.
Blade watches you go farther and farther until you're a dot in his sight, just like the moment when you followed after the woman who made him suffer over and over again. Your cold lifeless eyes and your face lined with blood as you watched the life drain out of him will forever be a memory that haunts him.
You weren't one of them. But when he saw you once again in this lifetime, he decided...that you'll also have to pay the price.
#ok bye im tired#who did this to you is coming soon#i refuse to remove that from the narrative#honkai star rail headcanons#blade x reader#blade x reader angst#blade x you#honkai star rail x you#hsr x you#hsr headcanons#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail blade#honkai star rail#hsr angst#hsr x reader#blade x y/n#honkai star rail imagines#hsr imagines
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OP characters reacting to you kissing them and running away :) PART TWO🤸 (here is part 1) established relationship ish.
Some lovely person requested Shanks, Benn, Doffy and Crocodile! I decided to include Shanks, Benn, Crocodile, Jinbei, Mihawk, Rayleigh and Buggy (the old man brigade tbh).
I did try to write for doflamingo but I hate him so much I just couldn't do it😭😭.
Might be suggestive so mdni!
Shanks
Tbh depends on what side you do it.
If it's his left side then he just notes it in his head so he can get pay back later. If its his right side you're done for.
Immediately snatches you as soon as you try to run away, "Oho what do we have here? a thief?", gets right in your face with this cocky ass smirk that kinda makes you want to slap him and also makeout. Also his grip is intense, you will not be able to wiggle out. After he lost his arm he had to be able to make up that strength so yk.
Benn
Side eye. He looks at you so disapprovingly that you just apologise immediately instead of trying to run away...however this was a trap and he uses the opportunity to SNATCH you off the ground and into his arms. Laughs if you scream tbh. He always has to have the last laugh and he plays dirty, and somehow you manage to fall for these tricks almost every time so he enjoys this immensely. He doesn't even care how "unfair" it is, afterall you're so easy to tease so why would he not indulge-
Buggy
Screams in outrage.
"HOW CAN YOU DO THAT AND JUST RUN AWAY" chases after you😞 really aggressively😞.
Tbh it's kinda cute like in hindsight because it makes him really flustered but like in the moment its like WHAT THE FUCK. yk yk. You better hope he doesn't catch you because he will not be merciful in his pay back, though he would never hurt you. Hes just not used to pda and he definitely has cuteness aggression so he just wants to bite you when you're so sweet to him.
Crocodile
You don't get away.
The second you lean in his arm is curling around your waist to hold you still while he puts all his focus into kissing you back, it's literally like one hand cradling your jaw while he licks into your mouth. He doesn't care if anybody else is there, in fact he enjoys it because he gets to show off that you are his partner. After that he'll keep you with him for as long as possible, doesn't care if you have stuff to do and he absolutely will manhandle you if you try to leave😭.
Mihawk
Lets you run away, like he'll follow you but he just walks and it's somehow way scarier than being caught straight away😟. The look he gives you as you start to step back just makes your stomach flip and your knees go weak. He turns it into some horrifying game which is basically just him stalking you like a predator (👁️👁️). Somehow manages to lead you into a dead end even though you're the one in front ???? "Oh dear, it seems you made a wrong turn hm?". Absolutely will stop if you start getting uncomfortable, he just enjoys teasing you.
Jinbei
Really playful and sweet :(. Laughs so loud because he's surprised and just watches you run off. He will absolutely do the same thing back and it's just so unexpected that it usually makes you forget about whatever you were supposed to be doing. Tries to catch you sometimes depending on his mood, like he'll straight up snatch you from the ground so he can hold you in his arms, HES SO CUTE :(. Also I think he blushes very easily even though he's quite cool-headed.
Rayleigh
Another playful one, tries to catch you in like a non scary way and is absolutely willing to make a fool of himself to make you laugh. Though if he thinks you're doing it in order to tease him then he will give the same energy back. Like he won't give you time to run away, he just steps into your little personal bubble and his hands settle on your waist like steel, "Leaving so soon honey?" RAHHH SHUT UP!!!! He's so fine and he knows it and it makes him despicable.
#one piece x reader#x reader#shanks x reader#benn beckman x reader#crocodile x reader#jinbei x reader#jimbei x reader#mihawk x reader#rayleigh x reader#buggy x reader#old man brigade#one piece fics#one piece x gn reader
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You got Gojo Satoru wondering - and he might not be built for that.
Satoru is a person who doesn't really think twice before acting. He's used to being the strongest, the most powerful and hence, always right. But for the first time in a very long time, Satoru starts to wonder.
The beginnings are innocent, as they tend to be. Why are you so easy to talk to? He's had plenty of girls before, and none of them seemed to be able to hold conversation as well as you. Why are you so pretty? Your parents must have some crazy genes, both sides, to create a creature so insanely breathtaking. Why are you so bold? You were the one who made the first step and suggested this whole friends-with-benefits type of situation and that's why Satoru blames you. He's not used to thinking like that. That's too much for his pretty head to take.
Oh, and by the way, as we're on the subject of head - why are you so good at giving it? The way your sneaky little tongue plays with his tip almost gets him crying every fucking time. You should be illegal - and it gets even worse. Your gaze somehow always finds his and it doesn't even feel like you're looking at him. It's black magic. Maybe you are a curse user after all - your eyes do something to weaken him, being especially effective when poor Satoru is really trying his best not to come too soon. And so, he wonders. Do you want to kill him? Do you want him to drop dead, just like that?
In terms of dropping, Gojo is dropping to his knees, that's for sure. He'd drop everything actually, just to be able to open your legs and worship both you and the ground you're walking on, no matter where, no matter when. Your warmth gets him thinking. Why are your thighs so soft? He could sleep on them. he could live there - right there, in a sacred place, which no other men should ever have access to. A mere thought of that makes him angry, and that again, makes him wonder.
Is he jealous? But there were no rules, no talk of exclusivity. He thought he couldn't be jealous like that, especially when you didn't have anyone except him. At least that's how it was at first, but now he's not sure. He’s never asked. Satoru is thinking. Again. It feels uncomfortable, and the feeling intensifies as he reaches for his car keys. Maybe he shouldn’t be driving in this state? Normally he’d ask Geto, but the way his best friend stared at you during that party last weekend makes him grind his teeth. He didn't worry about it back then. So what changed? The way your body feels under his fingers? The way you smile, so sincerely that it feels unfair to have you in this universe? The way you moan his name and shake, when he...
’toru?’
Your voice brings him back. He looks at you, eyes wide open, confusion yet again written all over his face. Because even though he might be the honoured one, he's just a man. A man, who doesn't notice how his fingers unconsciously get tangled with yours every time he brings you on edge. A man, who doesn't understand why you make him feel not only like a horny teenager, but also a sad, lonely puppy every single time you leave his apartment, all happy and giddy for some inexplicable reason. A man, who simply doesn't get why his heart beats as if it's completely lost its rhythm in front of you, especially now, his six eyes scanning your surprised expression when you finally open the door.
Satoru wanted to say something, but doesn't know what now. Your lips are so distracting after all.
Guess he'll wonder for a little longer.
masterlist ❤️
#I NEEDED TO SPICE IT UP HENCE REPOST#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#satoru gojo#gojo#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojou satoru x reader#jjk satoru#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujustu kaisen#gojo fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen gojo#satoru#gojo satoru smut#gojo drabbles
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more cfau miscellaneous things because Childhood Friends Danny and Jason have my head and heart always and I need to finish rewriting chapter two dammit (and redo the half-finished chapter 4 because its just Not The Vibes). i'm almost through I need to get through the graveyard scene. (i just stubbornly refuse to have it be shorter than the original chapter and thats the little death. that is the mind killer.)
Danny and jason’s ghost forms both smell faintly like burnt flesh and cigarettes. However, Jason has a more smokey smell while Danny’s smells almost,,, electrical? In a sense? Like he just straight up smells like burnt flesh and sulphur while Jason smells like someone put him in a smoker first.
It’s very much an unpleasant smell but Danny finds an odd comfort in it just as much as he finds a comfort in the smell of nicotine.
(Jason post-revival smells burnt flesh once and is immediately offput by the fact that it brings him an instinctive comfort. He doesn’t realize its because it reminds him of Danny, and is uncomfortable by it.)
-
In an au of an au, Danny’s altercation with Rath ends with Rath regaining enough of his sanity to snap out of the grieving state and ends with him breaking down. Instead of being souped and imprisoned, Rath, who is permanently 14, decides to Move On into the unknown. He’s exhausted, heartbroken, and tired.
(Is this influenced heavily by the ParaNorman scene where he talks to Agatha and helps her move on? Yes. But it doesn’t fit with the Original Storyline so im shoving it into an Au of an Au.)
Rath tells Danny that Jason lied to them (which he genuinely believes), and that he’s tired of waiting/looking for him/grieving. Jason is gone. He isn’t coming back, he abandoned them. And he wants his mom and dad, and his sister, and his friends. And he’s ready to join them.
He leads Danny out to Gotham, which other than Amity Park might’ve been the only city left untouched due to Rath’s own mental block on the place. They go out to the park he and Jason used to frequent or up to one of crime alley’s rooftops, and there Rath lies down and goes to sleep. Only to never wake up again, materializing into nothing as his soul moves on.
Before Rath leaves, he forces Danny to promise him that he’ll only wait for Jason for ten years. After that if he doesn’t find him, or if Jason doesn’t show, then Danny has to move on. Whether that be like how Rath does, or if its inly mentally/emotionally, doesn’t matter. He has to move on. Don’t wait for him. Don’t waste his time any more.
(“Oh, and if you find him, kick his ass for me.”)
Danny reluctantly agrees, and Rath lies down. Danny sings to him as he falls asleep.
(Angsty points if the vigilantes including Red Hood caught wind of their presence and were silently watching from the shadows. Rath might know they’re there, but Danny’s too focused on Rath to notice.)
(If only so that Red Hood realizes that this is what happened to Danny, and that Danny is gone before he can make things right. The tragedy, folks. The angst. The initial realization that Danny was Rath, and then also that Danny was dead and has been dead for years, and that before he moved on, he moved on believing that Jason abandoned him.)
(like i said it doesn't fit in the original timeline/storyline hence why its an au of an au and isn't nearly a fleshed out, but i was largely just focusing on the tragedy of Rath moving on and Jason being alive to see it and realize just who Rath is.)
-
Just like how the Lazarus pits shot Jason's twiggy 4'6-5'4 (depending on what you find) feet tall and 86lb ass up like a tree an essentially fixed his malnutrition, the portal did the same thing for Danny.
(granted i forgot about malnutrition and danny's likely stunted growth at first -- his family lived in crime alley and despite both his parents working, I don't think they had enough food all the time. He probably wasn't as badly malnourished as Jason was, but he wasn't healthy either.)
Granted his ghost in its "natural" state (14) is short, and his growth spurts were slow at first, it did result in him reaching his dad's height. There were points where it just happened overnight, like a baby. He went to bed one night 5’6 and woke up the next day 5’10.
Jazz is shorter than him. Although I have't decided if she's even liminal at all (and if she is, it didn't cure everything because she would have also suffered childhood malnutrition, and since in au canon their parents didn't get their hands on physical ectoplasm until after they got to Amity Park. So the exposure is less.)
-
Danny's voice absolutely sounds like canon Dan's. It kinda just dropped one day when he was 16-17 and never went back up. Sam and Tucker sometimes ask him to just talk about anything because they find his voice soothing.
I'm not sure yet how Danny would feel about it at first considering Rath, but I imagine that Rath, when he did speak, would have had a quieter and scratchier/weaker voice considering he's spent the last decade shrieking and crying.
(and i suppose technically that shouldn't have any effect on his throat considering he's a ghost and idk if that would actually affect him, but i like the idea so im keeping it)
In the beginning you could hear him from a mile away by the sound of his loud, echoing wails, but ten years later you can only really hear him by the soft, shuddering sobs he makes. Like he's gasping for air that isn't there. The future is full of very quiet survivors.
And it's much easier to speak when you pitch your voice upwards (especially when whispering/speaking quietly) so he might've spoken in a higher, airy pitch in order to be heard. So Danny might actually find a comfort in having a lower voice.
#tw mentions of gore#cw gore#i suppose this counts as gore#dp x dc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc#dpxdc crossover#childhood friends au#cfau#really leaning into the idea of rath just being a horror. the horrors! i am delighted in the horrors!#im having fun with it#i swear to god turning 19 turned a switch on in my brain because i am much more comfortable with gore and heavy injury now than i was l#literally a year ago. the urge to write about some of danny's most horrific injuries in his fights is STRONG#like the hORRORS folks. *th horrors*. i dont think i'll ever write a dissection fic because that icks me out but the idea that danny's had#to stitch up his own throat because it got slit in a fight nd he cant shift back to human until he's done because his ghost will survive bu#his body wont#the idea that he's been impaled multiple times before and it hurts each fucking time but he still gets up and hurls the hurt right back in#equal measure. because that's how you wanna play? okay. lets play. he's 14 and his best friend is dead. he can play.#and the idea that all ghosts have 'corpse' forms where their ghosts look exactly like how they died. and danny is utterly unrecognizable#jazz being liminal or not just isnt important to me because she's barely gonna show up in the story anyways#same reason why i hardly use the headcanon that ellie becomes danny's daughter because what use is she to me like that? she'll hardly have#an impact on the story and i refuse to treat characters like props. if they can't help progress the story then they aren't included
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Slashers with an s/o who has tourettes? (Billy Lenz, Stu/Billy, Brahms, Bubba and any Sinclair would be nice)
Can do😌 they/them pronouns, sfw, lil mension of bullies but slashers gonna whoop them Request open
Slashers with s/o who has tourette syndrom
Brahms Heel
Our gentleman knows how to behave
He won't comment on it, or stare, anything
He might be curious and ask few questions but very respectfully
10/10 good boi, nothing bad
Billy Lenz
Thrue phone when he called first time he thought that they are making fun of him!!
He never heard of tourettes so he thinks s/o is just build difrent
He probably found out about it by overhearing converstation s/o had about it with somone
Cant take it seriously, untill they are in relationship or close friends with him?? Its not like he's disrespectful due to tourettes, he just do be like that, to everyone
Will ask weird questions
Bubba Sawyer
Hes so understanding! And supportive
If they have one of those tics that acually feel uncomfortable or painful he gonna feel bad after finding out :(
And s/o has to teach him about it, but even before they told him, he was very respectful
He gonna be soso upset if his family is rude to them! Dont lisen to them! Your great
This babi has stims when overwhelmed so he completly gets how it feels (to certain degree ofc)
Vincent Sinclaie
Our king
He gonna give them space if they need it, he also will think that touretts makes them original and more memorable
If s/o has ticks while they get stressed he gonna try to remove all possibly stressful factors in the room
At start everytime s/o had one of those tics when you move your neck or shoulders, vincent thought they were flinching because of him😭😭bbg thought s/o was spooked of him
Bo Sinclair
At the start he gonna be like "what the helllll" but then he remembers, ah yes, touretts, that exists
Gonna beat anyone up, their friends making jokes? Boom! Rude random people that stare? Shmack! Anyone making fun of it its on deadlist
Extremely protecive. Yes he sometimes finds some tics funny (especialy if s/o randomly swears) but he won't mimic them or comment on it much (unless s/o is okay with that ofc)
Hes like, yeah i can make fun of it, but if somone else tries laughing welp their dead
Stu Macher and Billy Loomis
Stu cant be serious if his life depended on it
Again, its okay to joke about it in close group of friends, but if anyone random tries to comment on it, baby they are the next vicim😍
Billy is more protective while Stu just lets s/o handle the situation (unless its really bad)
Tbh Billy is worried about s/o acidently hurting themselfs, like accidental cuts while s/o prepares dinner or hitting something with a hand. So he doesnt really like them walking around with a knife. While Stu, yknow Stu, he just hopes they wont bleed out
Also ghostfaces are dumb, 100% stu would say something along the lines "dont worry hon my perents are rich they gonna get you some vaccine for that" 💀💀💀 "STU YOU DUMBASS ITS NOT AN ILLNES HOW DIDNT YOU KNOW THAT"
#slasher x reader#slasher headcanons#billy lenz#billy lenz x reader#brahms heelsire#brahms x reader#stu matcher imagine#stu matcher x reader#ghostface x reader#billy loomis x reader#bo sinclair x reader#bo sinclair#vincent sinclair x reader#vincent x reader#vincent sinclair#house of wax#scream#bubba saywer x reader
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It's so frustrating to see people purposefully misunderstand transandrophobia/transmisandry and then very confidently talk disparagingly about the people who talk about their experiences of it and then blatantly ignore everyone going "hey yeah no that's not what that means"
Like. Devon price trying to frame it like people who talk about transandrophobia are doing so firstly because they're just ignorant misogynistic babies who want to be oppressed so bad and also to try and drive a wedge between transmascs and transfemmes is so fucking disingenuous I don't even know where to start.
We're literally just trying to talk about the experiences transmasculine people have and the institutional problems specific to us? Why is this such a fucking problem?
Its painfully obvious that the people who make these posts do not ever actually engage with the discussion of anti-transmasculinity & the wider transunitist-feminist theories. Its embarassingly obvious in this case because Devon tried to make this sick gotcha, by bringing up one of the most common topics of conversation in our spaces.
And then there's the whole "TMRAs don't realize most of what they deal with is misogyny!" take, which I've seen in other places as well. Which imo comes from the idea that people who discuss transmisandry are literally just the trans version of MRAs. & the MRA idea of "misandry" is just a reversal of their idea of feminist theory- so they use it to describe "actually society is based around women's needs and desires and it targets (cis) men and we actually live in a matriarchy!" While the transunitist concept of misandry/antimasculism is "patriarchal beliefs about men/masculinity & the roles they are expected to fulfill, used both generally to reinforce patriarcharal control and specifically to target marginalized men/perceived-masculine people." I coined antimasculism specifically to provide an alternate to misandry for those who are uncomfortable with it because of the MRA associations.
& like. whether or not you agree that these are useful words, its obvious that the transunitist idea of misandry/antimasculism is very different to the MRA one. But to know that you'd have to actually, like, read the things we write & take seriously to our theories on the patriarchy. And not just trust Tumblr Callout For Evil Trans People #3245853723 that said we don't think misogyny exists.
Also tbh I think a bigger part of this issue (transmascs who are anti-transunitist) is that its a symptom of anti-transmasculine erasure. If you don't personally experience, assault, demonization, or accusations of being a predator for being a trans man, and no one you know has either, then... you certainly aren't gonna hear about those issues from wider society. And even if you have, you might not recognize what happened as anti-transmasculine, or tell yourself it must be only a fraction of what trans women go through. & again, they don't fucking read anything we post. That's why I feel like its so important to point out & remember incidents of anti-transmasculinity (like what I do w the AoVaTP). Because its so easy to buy the "people don't violate trans men the same way" until you've read about (tw for somewhat graphic anti-transmasculine violence)
trans men getting their faces cut off, beaten with a chain, thrown out of men and women's bathrooms, hit over the head with a cooler, having their shelter at a refugee camp firebombed, having hot coffee poured in their eyes while being called a "he-she", institutionalized & tortured for not showing "proper gender behaviors" as a child, having their family burn their documents to keep them from getting a job, forced to jump from a 2nd-story window and left to die, being harassed by Fox News for being a "groomer" until their school got bomb threats, held captive and tortured for two years, found dead with their genitals stabbed, assaulted by a police officer for "lesbian activity", called "tranny" a lot, and so many rapes and so many suicides, and this is just some of the shit that I have collected for that archive.
But yeah. We're just whining about silly representation nonsense.
#sorry for bringing up all the awful shit but like. sometimes i just wanna grab these peoples faces#and be like WHILE YOU NITPICK LANGUAGE THE PATRIARCHY DOESNT STOP KILLING US#i try to pretty regularly search for news articles about trans men to keep up w anything new#and ive done a fair bit of research to find stories that NEVER!!!!! get brought up by other queer activists#wheres yalls fucking support for zahair martinez. for chriton atuhwera. for ky peterson. for ebeng mayor.#if you are an activist then put the effort in#m.#ask box#examples of transandrophobia#rape tw#suicide tw
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Powergirl Should Die
Supergirl. Powergirl. B!D. Kara Danvers x BabyDanvers!Reader, Alex Danvers x BabyDanvers!Reader, Lena Luthor, Winn Schott.
Word Count: 2550.
Porwergirl should die. Someone should kill her.
The suit is skin tight, it clings so forcefully onto you as if it's trying to become part of you. But this other skin, just simply doesn’t fit right over your bones.
There is a huge House of El crest over your chest, in its golden glory. It weighs down on your skin, heavy and sacred. It should help you feel at ease. It doesn’t. It feels like it’s burning your skin like a branding iron.
Kryptonian?
Yes.
Super powers?
Yes.
You’re a superhero. Next, please!
Kara stands tall next to you, hand on your shoulder. “Would you look at that,” your sister smiles brightly at you. “Mother and father would be so proud of you, mini me.”
Kara has called you that your whole life, but you never felt so little as you do right now. You've also never felt so much like Kara. Crumpled up inside this supersuit to fit someone else’s dream. You don’t think your parents would be very proud of you now.
“Kara, this feels odd.” You try to lift the suit from your skin, that is so snuggled up it barely leaves you room to breathe. “I-I look like you.”
“I know!” She proudly squeaks. “I asked Winn to only change the colors. How do you feel about the white, red and blue?”
“Like a walking American flag.” You wince at the thought. You like the white, it’s a little more sober than the blue in Kara's suit, it also reminds you of the vest you used to wear back in Krypton. The red cape feels like they've ripped a piece of Kara’s and placed it on your back. The high blue boots are uncomfortable and the matching gloves are just plain stupid.
“You certainly don’t look like one.” Alex chimes in from behind you, and you turn around, sick of the sight of you in the mirror. “Honestly sis, I like this suit. I think it might be even better than Kara’s.”
“I wouldn’t go that far, mine has history.”
“Yours is a copy of Superman’s.”
“That’s what I mean, history.”
You watch your sister’s bickering with faint attention because they both would never say how ridiculous you look with this dull, hideous, comical outfit.
But it didn’t matter how foolish you looked, or how stupid you felt. There was no way out of this. Kara said you looked perfect and Alex agreed. J’onn, who’s been the closest thing to a father to you on this planet, gave you a stiff smile when asked what he thought. He could read your mind, remember? That’s what he thought about it. And Winn was just over the moon with his creation. No way out. From that day on, you’re Powergirl.
It hasn’t been long since you started being Powergirl. You’re still not the most prominent face of the Supers, thank God for that. You do the easy jobs while Kara takes on the real bad guys. You follow her lead. Obey to what Alex tells you to do over the comm that is permanently stuck in your ear. As if you couldn’t hear her from miles and miles away.
But with every passing day, it becomes even more obvious to you that you were really not cut out for this superhero life. Not good at it. Not happy with it. Not fit for it.
The very opposite of Kara, actually. Because Kara fits everywhere and with everyone. She fits perfectly in her suit, with her alias. Perfectly at her job at CatCo, as a news reporter. And ever since she landed on Earth she created her perfect family, story, life on this planet.
You, on the other hand, wish everyday you were still at Krypton. You are well aware that if you stayed behind, that if your parents hadn't made Kara snuggle your smaller form against her own body on that pod, you would have exploded. You wouldn't be alive today. And you wish people knew you don't want to be dead, you just wish your planet hadn't exploded in the first place.
Sure Kara feels the same. Yet she makes a name for herself and gives back to this planet that took you both in so willingly, that gave you both powers because of its sun. Kara is just different.
"Mother would want us to use our powers for good." She would whisper to you in the dark, whenever the Danvers would tell you to not use your powers. Whenever they asked you to fit in completely. "Father spent so much time trying to stop our planet from deteriorating, don't you think that if he had powers he would use them to make that happen?"
She would ask you questions that didn't feel like questions. That required no answers at all. Kara would tell you what she knew about them, use them as arguments to explain to you (convince even) why you had to become a superhero too.
And you would lay there in the dark, after your sister was asleep, looking at the long dead stars, and wondering whether she was right. Whether that was your parents' plans all along or just a sad coincidence.
"Powergirl." You hear Kara's voice early in the morning while you're still trying to brew yourself a cup of coffee. "I need you for a second."
"It's too early in the morning and I have to get ready for work." You press on your comm to answer. "Can't you deal with it alone?"
"Hm, no. I need you to come here now."
You let out a huge sigh, trying to ease your own mind. Coffee will wait, you guess. You're out of your pj's, into your suit, and out of the house in a blur. You stop next to Kara while she stares at a billboard.
"What?" You can't help the harshness of your tone as you see no emergency around her.
Kara says nothing. Only points at the billboard and you finally take note of it. Written in large red colors, the sentence: Powergirl should die.
Huh.
"It seems that you have an enemy." Kara says when time enough has passed for you to read the sentence over a few times. "Don't worry, we'll catch them."
Cute. It's your first thought. It's almost like someone wrote you a love letter, au contraire.
Kara makes an effort to tear it all down, destroy the billboard before anyone sees it. You don't help her, stuck inside your own mind, replaying the words in your head.
"No need to worry." She assures you, hand on your shoulder to get you out of your trance. "No one will do you any harm, mini me. I'd never let anyone hurt you."
"Thanks, Kar." You look at your watch on your wrist. "Work calls." And so you fly home.
You try to lodge that sentence in the back of your mind. You don't wanna seem stressed out, even though you are. But showing how actually worried you are about it, and with the fact that someone is coming for you, it's inconceivable.
Kara would worry. Alex would stress. Ooof, you can see it all playing out. Sleepovers and excuses for you to miss work and hang at the DEO headquarters so they can keep an eye on you, until you're feeling suffocated.
No, no. You can't go through that. It's been a while since you and your sisters shared a bedroom. You don't think you three can do that again now that you're grown ups.
It happens again. You don't see it, but you hear the agents commenting about it, a couple days later. They get muted the second you fly in the DEO, which is not only annoying but foolish. You do have super hearing after all.
"So, where was it this time?" You ask Alex, while she tries to avoid looking at you.
"Where's what?" She tries, and you furrow your brows.
"Winn, put it on the monitor." You ask coming closer. Winn looks at Alex as if asking for permission, but you don't give her time to deny him. "Come on, I heard the agents. I'm still Kryptonian even if I'm not a Super."
Winn huffs. "On the tallest building of National City." The photo goes up on the large TV in front of you, and you swallow deep.
Powergirl should die.
"Y/N," Alex talks in a low tone so the agents around can't hear her. "it's not personal."
"Looks personal." You cross your arms, turning your back at the TV. "Someone wanting me dead sounds like it's as personal as it can get."
"Supergirl is looking into it, I promise we'll catch whoever did this."
"Alex, please." You pass her on your way to the training room. "You know damn well my favorite thing about you is that you don't lie."
"You've lost too many punching bags." You hear a voice behind your back, and you breathe deep before turning around.
"Just training a little." You look at the number of destroyed bags by your feet and decide that it's true, there's too many, even though that's what they're here for.
"Alex told me about the message." Kara approaches you slowly, trying to test the territory. She can see your distress, but doesn't know the extent of it. And she won't, because you're definitely going to fake it.
"Yeah, tall building. They got the writing off quickly, though. So no major problems."
"Honey," Kara's voice is even sweeter now, if that's possible. "I'll catch them. I'll be patrolling tonight. No one's coming for you."
"I'm not worried." You smile at your lie, or half of lie for what it's worth. Knowing that Kara will be patrolling the city helps. You know your sister would never let anything bad happen to you. And it's very unlikely that anyone on this planet could easily defeat two Kryptonians.
Kara also smiles, and brings you into her arms for a hug. And you breathe out, calmer. Kara's arms have kept you safe from many perils. Spaceship lost in space, new planet, new school, new job. Surely she can keep you safe again.
You don't feel safe, though, when you wake up to a familiar voice far away. You rub the sleep from your eyes, well awake, paying close attention to a conversation you weren't invited to be a part of.
"Alex, I went around the city, there's no new wri-"
"Kara? What was that?"
There it was, in big red letters the sentence that has been haunting you for days. Powergirl should die. And under it new words' been added, someone should kill her.
"I found new writing." Kara's voice comes a second later. "It's worse this time."
"Take a picture so we can compare the handwriting and get back here."
"I have to clean this up." But before Kara even has the chance to, you're flying next to her in front of the L Corp building. "Y/N! What are you doing here?"
You move closer to the building to investigate. The ink is still wet, it wasn't done too long ago. You look around trying to find cameras. It's Lena's building, you're sure there are cameras everywhere. You spot one with a direct view.
"Mini me-" Kara tries.
"Go to work Supergirl, I'll deal with this. Someone wanting me dead is my problem." It's always been your problem, you are aware. But Kara promised you, you had nothing to worry about. Promised she would patrol the city. Promised she would protect you. And yet, here it is, in big block red letters.
"But-"
"I got it, Kara. Can you just believe in me?"
"Y/N, you know I do. I just wanna help."
"I don't need help." You clench your jaw, tired of being treated like a little girl. Like a mini Kara instead of your own person. "I'm Kryptonian too."
Cheap shot? Maybe. Definitely. You throw it, anyway.
You clean the writing then fly home to suit up. You can't face Lena without it. Another secret that only makes you hate your secret identity as hard. Lying to your friends, sneaking out, it's all stressing and there's literally no reward high enough worth of all this.
"Lena."
"Oh shit." Lena's hand goes to her chest after her obvious scare. You can hear her heart almost beating out of her chest. "It's too early for bad news, Powergirl."
"Trust me, I agree with that." You breathe out, trying to give her a smile. It comes out flat. "I was wondering if I could look into one of your surveillance cameras. There was some writing on this building this morning, I would very much like to know who's responsible."
"Writing? I - I didn't see anything when I came in."
"Good. I cleaned it as fast as possible." You point at her computer and she breathes deep as if she is agreeing with you.
It doesn't take long for the images to be up, and you two to be carefully reversing the filming until Lena sees you and Kara flying in front of it, and read the words herself. She looks up to you and quirks up an eyebrow, in question.
"Currently unsure if someone is threatening me or if this is just general knowledge being passed on."
"People don't want you dead, you're a superhero!" Lena argues. "Maybe Lex, but he's currently serving his time."
"Clearly not everyone agrees with you." You point back at the words on her computer.
"It's awful." She admits, even though she doesn't fully trust you or Kara yet. "Wait, wait. There."
You can't see a thing. One minute is there, the other isn't. You slow down the images, trying to see any detail. Lena soon takes over and slows down as much as she can. That's when you see it, just a tiny flash of red. You hold your breath. Thankfully, Lena hasn't noticed it.
"How's this possible? There's no one."
"Seems that I'll have to patrol the city myself tonight." You're almost leaving Lena's office when you turn around one more time. "Thank you for your help, Ms. Luthor."
"I was barely of any help at all." Lena points at the computer as proof and you give her a smile.
"Au contraire, darling. You showed me everything I needed to see." You wink at her, then fly out.
You march inside the DEO, positive on your plan. No one is talking you out of it, that's for sure.
Winn tries to argue that it is illogical for you to just give yourself to your enemy. He gets ignored. Alex argues that as a DEO agent she can't let you do this, and as your older sister she would be insane to leave you alone in this situation. You don't budge. Kara pulls out the big guns, her promise to mother and father, her duty as your protector, how you're the only connection she still has with Krypton, her love for you and so on. Her cries fall on deaf ears.
So at night, you fly around National City watching and studying everyone in it, even though you know you should only be looking for one person. One person with superspeed, a red cape and a big motive.
#supergirl#kara danvers#lena luthor#kara x reader#reader insert#baby danvers#alex danvers#alex x reader#powergirl#supergirl imagine
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Major Gale romance SPOILERS below, so please DO NOT read and watch if you don't want to get spoiled.
I was REALLY worried about how romance with Gale would go, especially after talking to him right after he gets Karsas' book. My Tav wanted to believe and trust him, but something didn't feel right. At the end of Act II, when Tav tries to convince him not blow himself up for his ex's forgivness/to save Faerûn, it can be summed up with that one gif from Grey's Anatomy: "So pick me. Choose me. Love me" 🤡. Honestly, she asks not only to choose her, but also not to kill her and the rest of the team. Gale is so easily swayed and tells Tav that he loves her, even more than Mystra. Tav should be happy, right? But I'm like WAIT A DAMN MINUTE, it was faaar too easy, I mean, no protests from him, I didn't even have to use persuasion to convince him. At that point, after the trauma that Bioware had caused us with Anders and Solas, I'm getting paranoid. Gale doesn't love Tav, he's definitely hiding something. But I'm thinking to myself, "Okay, calm down, he just doesn't want to die, super understable. Maybe he really loves her and he needed to hear it? He needed reassurance that he has something to live for? Yes, it must be it". But then I go to the quest journal and see this:
DAMMIT GALE, you snake 🐍 My poor baby Tav (especially since the romance scene in Waterdeep was so warm and tender). She's so in love in him. Now I'm convinced that he will definetly betrey us, stubs us right in the heart.
At the beginning of Act III, he becomes obsessed with a book called The Annals of Karsus that may help him learn more about the crown. He becomes obsessed with how powerful he can become. When Tav gives him the book and says, "We already know the crown's dangerougs. Wouldn't that make things worse?" he replies:
"Worse? It could be the best thing that ever happened to me. To us."
After all this, Gale tries to convince Tav to help him reconstruct the crown. We have this beautiful scene on the boat and when I tell you my jaw dropped. HE CHOOSES TAV, listens to her concerns and simply chooses her.
The way he says it, the way he corrects himself… damn. For Tav, it's like a bucket of cold water. And I'm like, "Here we go again" 🤡
Furthermore, when we visit the Stormshore Tabernacle in Baldur's Gate and interact with Mystra's statue, he seems to feel so uncomfortable, he doesn't want to be there. Tav starts to think he's definitely hiding something. She would like to hear Mystra's version of what happened between her and Gale (I hope we can talk to her at some point in the game, it would be very interesting).
My Tav, however, disagreed, and Gale replies, "I hope you're right. I truly do. Godly power, perhaps I can live without, but you? You're everything". Has the curse of dating mages that leave players heartbroken been broken?
But I have to admit, when he said: "With you, I forget my goddess. I love you. Tell me you feel the same way. Tell me you want what I want. Please" - OH GODS 😳. I was so close to agreeing to this madness. The VA did an amazing job (side note: so many talented VAs in this game, it's mind blowing), the writing is amazing, the music is incredible, I was blown away, really.
Next day, after the boat scene, he's so adorable and full of love for Tav. Then I remembered his gratest flaw (for me it's more like his biggest fear) from the scene with Zethino in the circus: "He thinks he, and the world, might be better off if he were dead". At the time I thought he was lying, manipulating Zethino and his answers. My distrust of mages in games… Yes, I have a problem 😅
I haven't finished the game, but I have high hopes for a happy ending. No spoilers please, thanks :)
What a rollecoster of emotions, I love it, I love Gale. It felt like I was playing Dragon Age: Origins for the first time, way back when I was a teenager. It's really insane how this game makes me feel, how much I care about its characters and story.
EDIT: Okay, so we have an audience with Mystra, I mean only Gale, but we see the whole conversation between them. My only complain is that Gale doesn't mention Tav when Mystra asks him why he defied her 💔 The outcomes are different depending on whether you do it before or after the boat scene. Personally, I think doing the boat scene before meeting Mystra is much better. I get the impression that Gale is abandoning the plan to reconstruct the crown solely for Tav and his love for her. And the drama 👌🏻 it gives me life.
#sorry for the wall of text#ignore my rambling#the thing is i'm very excited and none of my friends play bg3 and my husband can't listen to me anymore 🤭#baldur's gate 3#bg3#baldur's gate 3 spoilers#bg3 spoilers#Gale#gale of waterdeep#gale romance#might delete later#Tav#gale bg3
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| OP characters and a taller y/n |
Featuring: Strawhats + Allies
G/n
Luffy -
Luffy likes tall people because it just means more person to hang on to. He likes wrapping his arms around you entirely to give you hugs and making you hold him above the floor. If you're super tall he might ask for a piggie back ride or to sit on your shoulders.
In a different way, Luffy finds long legs quite attractive. Doesn't matter what they look like, he just likes them a lot.
Zoro -
First meeting you, he was a little jealous. He's not short at all but the fact that you could lean on his shoulders or head is rather irritating, but in a way very attractive?
There's not much to say other than he warms up to you a lot, though craning his neck instead of looking down like he usually does for people is different.
Sanji -
You have awoken a beast inside of him that will now never go away. He likes it, he likes it a lot. You'd think he'd want a smaller partner to hold but no, this man likes being held and leaned over like he's small.
If you happen to have a decent chest, he will take advantage of the fact that his face is at the perfect height to lay on it.
Nami -
Unbothered by it to be honest. She won't notice much unless you're a significant amount taller than her.
It doesn't do things to her, but what does it the way you can lean over her and she'll feel your breath on her neck or head. Now that, does something.
Robin -
She appreciates a tall partner, but again it doesn't do things to her. She doesn't mind your height at all and will complement you regularly on it.
Lay on her, let her lay on you, either way she's enjoying herself.
Usopp -
He's never been with a taller partner, or anyone at all, so this is new. It's not bad, it's just new. He's getting used to having to ask you to reach very high shelves for him or spotting things.
Over time he'll come to like it a lot, especially if you have a long torso/back.
Franky -
Franky? More like freaky... This man loves your height, it makes him feel patite. It's a change in the regular and actually quite fun for him. But don't give in to his requests for you to hold him, he's too heavy and you will fall over.
If you have a long neck, know that this man is thinking things and not all of them are PG.
Brook -
Over 9' tall? It's rare, and it's appealing. He likes this, yes very much.
He's not got any meat on him so it's kind of uncomfortable to held or be held, but he likes to touch your stomach or where there's more flesh on you. Overall, being tall doesn't faze him.
Jinbe -
At first, he wasn't so sure. But the further you develop in the relationship, the more he warms up to it. Plus it helps that if you're taller than him he's less likely to worry about you or be so gentle with you.
Law -
Secretly loves this. Hold him like a baby, in private, he needs this to heal his inner child. But seriously he probably prefers taller people over shorter people, not to say he wouldn't go for someone smaller.
Long limbs wrapped around him or your hands holding his? He's dead, you've killed him. He's in heaven now.
Kid -
He's trying to fight you. When he's not trying to fight you he's trying to get in your pants.
Being taller means he's less likely to need to be gentle with you or look out for you so yes, this is a win in some way.
Killer -
He's getting used to it, bless his heart. It's not really a problem its just that he's around people taller then him all the time and now his partner has joined that group, he feels small.
Reassure him he's not, he'll feel better soon.
Please notify me of who else you want to see I'll write more, and I'm currently doing another addition of this and the other post.
Also chapter 1085 tho... chills I'm telling you.
#one piece#one piece headcanons#monkey d. luffy#one piece x reader#pirate hunter zoro#vinsmoke sanji#nami#nico robin#franky#op usopp#soul king brook#knight of the sea jinbe#trafalgardwaterlaw#eustace kid#killer one piece
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