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back2bluesidex · 27 days

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Where Do Broken Hearts Go - Chapter 6 (18+)

Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok.

Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!

Theme: Angst, pining, heartbreak, break-up, smut

Warnings: SMUT AHEAD!! Explicit sex, hair pulling, tit slapping, nipple play, body worshipping, doggy style, protected sex, Hoseok is just so whipped for her, confessions, mina makes an appearance, multiple orgasms, argument, drama!!! NSFW!!!

Word count: 4.1k+

Taglist requests are closed.

Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog

A/N: This chapter was so fun to write. I hope it's fun to read for you too. Please let me know what you think of it.

Main Masterlist

Chapters:-

Prologue/Masterpost || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale

It’s been long since you had any physical action.

Jungkook was far too unattached for the last couple of months of your relationship that he couldn't offer more than a few kisses and touches.

And then when he left, you were far too drained to give yourself a moment of release.

So, this can be a reason why you currently feel that you are being touched for the first time ever. This can be a reason why your skin is ablaze, your heart is pounding so hard that you can hear it in your ears and your panties getting soaked at the speed of light.

Hoseok groans in your mouth when you manage to slide your tongue inside of his. He tastes like the red wine you two just had. But he feels like everything you have been missing in your life.

“Stay the night.” Hoseok whispers in your mouth, parting for a second. A string of saliva connecting both of you.

“Should I?” you reply breathlessly.

And then you are kissing him again. His hands hold you steadily by your hip, squeezing your ass occasionally.

“But first, let’s keep these away.” you murmur in his mouth and he groans in affirmation.

Parting from your lips again, Hoseok places a quick peck on your mouth and takes the wine glass from your hand. When he exits the balcony to keep the glasses on the dishwasher, you follow him.

Calling Hoseok only handsome would never be justified.

You stare at him thirstily as he puts the glasses inside the dishwasher. His forearm veins flexing with every movement he makes. The black turtleneck is tight around his well-built chest. His dark styled hair has come loose around his forehead so a few strands are covering his eyes.

You start blushing but not because you are horny. It’s more than that.

No matter how independent you are, you have always wished to have a small family. Some people, who you would always come back to. Someone of your very own.

And you have always pictured Jungkook with you in those moments.

But now, when you have a glimpse of what you could have in future (only if Hoseok feels the very same way), you feel greedy.

You want to wake up in the morning beside Hoseok, kiss him good morning, take Sua out of her bed, kiss her too, and at night you want to tuck her to her bed, kiss her good night and end your day in Hoseok’s arms.

You don’t know if it’s right for you to ask all these and you don’t even want to think of that. For now, you know you are in love with the man in front of you.

You know he is attracted to you too, and it probably doesn’t match the intensity you possess for him. But for now, you want to live in this feeling. It’s been long since you have felt anything akin to butterflies and you want to enjoy it all as long as it lasts.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” It's Hoseok who speaks. He takes a step towards you.

“Am I?” you mirror his actions.

“Yes. very much.” he takes a hold of your hand and places a kiss on top of it, “so much so that I want to make you mine… only mine.”

Hoseok intertwines his fingers with yours, making your heart go even wilder. You can’t remember the last time when you felt this loved, this cherished, this much adored.

His eyes stay on yours. You can’t find the least bit of mockery in those. His words are sincere, he is sincere and right now, you can read him like an open book.

Placing your other hand on his cheek, you whisper, “then.. What’s stopping you from doing so?”

His skin is smooth much like his words.

Hoseok halts his movements at your question. His eyes flood with emotions that are not quite positive. You know what he might be thinking. And you want to dismiss his thoughts as soon as possible.

“I- I don’t see why you would want someone like me? I am in my thirties, a single father on top of that. You can have hotter younger guys swooning over you, offering you the world and what not. And me? I can only offer you myself, my love and Sua as a bonus. That’s all.”

You smile at his admission. He probably thought his words would discourage you from stepping towards him. But in reality you fall for him even more.

Encircling your hands around his neck, you reply, “and what if that’s more than enough for me? What if that’s all I want? You, your love and Sua as a bonus? Will you make me yours then?”

“I have been alone for far too long, Y/N. and… and I might not let you go if we step into this. I might never let you slip away from me. Will you be okay with that?”

“I will love that, Hoseok. I.. I have come to like you a lot in the past few weeks. And would love to fall for you in the near future.” you connect your forehead with his.

“Too bad, because it took me only the first glance to fall head over heels for you.” as soon as his confession ends, his lips find yours.

This time the kiss is slow.

Hoseok takes his time to explore every corner of your mouth while caging you between himself and the kitchen counter.

You kiss him with utmost sincerity as well.

Hoseok bites down on your lower lip, making you release a low moan. His kisses shift to your jaw, then to the column of your throat, painting bruises all over your skin.

His hands find their way to your thigh. And within a moment he lifts you up and sits you on the counter.

Slotting himself perfectly in between your legs, Hoseok nips on your throat.

“Hoseok” you moan breathily.

Hoseok’s hands venture underneath your dress, discovering your bare thigh. Your breath hitches when his fingers reach closer to your leaking core.

Just when he is about to touch you there, the door lock chimes in.

Hoseok detaches his mouth from your skin. You can see all the color from his face start draining as he whips his head to look towards the main entrance.

“Hoseok” a high pitched voice comes out of the narrow passage that leads to the door. And at once you know who it can be.

Her stilettos clink against the marble floor as she invites herself inside.

You don’t make any effort to demount the kitchen counter or shoving Hoseok away from your body. You stay still, holding him by his arm and so does he.

“Hoseok, why didn’t you-” the woman comes into your sight wearing a tight bodycon dress that certainly emphasizes her curves a lot.

You gotta admit the fact that she is indeed pretty. And if you’re a tiny bit jealous then it’s a discussion for another day.

“Mina! What the hell? How do you know my passcode?” Hoseok screams at her. But she is too busy scanning the position that you and Hoseok are in.

“That’s not important now, Hoseok. Who is she?” she points her finger towards you.

“Why are you here?” the man asks calmly now.

“Because you won’t reply to my texts or receive my calls! And I suppose she is the reason why?”

“Mina. Let’s talk about it later. I need you to leave now, you can see I am busy.”

“Who is she, Hoseok?” Mina asks again, determined to know your identity.

Hoseok looks at you.

Maybe he is hesitant to name your relationship and it’s natural. You are definitely not only in a professional relationship with him anymore but you are nothing more than a person he just kissed.

So you decide to answer on behalf of him, “I am Su-”

“She is my girlfriend.” Hoseok cuts you off.

Damn! Did he just call you his girlfriend?

When you look up at him, he is already smiling at you, “she is my permanent.”

You two are too busy staring into each other’s eyes that you don’t see the third figure bolting out of the door and banging it way too loudly. Before you can register it and say something, Hoseok is picking up where he left off earlier.

His hands work faster this time, undoing the knot of your dress and pulling the cloth away from your body. Your dress falls limp on his feet.

Your hands grab Hoseok’s turtle neck as if they are on auto-pilot and tug it out of his slacks. He helps you in undressing himself.

As soon as his honeyed skin comes into view, you start salivating.

“Fuck! Is it really legal for you to be this sexy?” you speak the words out loud. Your hands explore the expanse of his chest, his stomach, his torso.

“Why? Are you going to report me?” Hoseok chuckles, trying to tear your hands away from himself so that he can see you properly.

“I might… report you to my bedroom.” You place a kiss on his throat.

He groans, finally grabbing your wrist, he pins those on your back and says, “I’m one hell of an attorney. I know how to win cases.”

He swiftly unclips your bra and takes the article off your body.

“Holy shit! Y/N! You are so fucking gorgeous!” Hissing at the sight of your bare chest, Hoseok garbs your right tit with his free hand.

“So big! Damn! I bet your nipples will taste heavenly on my tongue!”

His praises turn you on beyond repair, so you whine.

He takes your left nipple inside his mouth. At first he rolls his tongue on the bud and then he starts sucking it. His sucks are so powerful that the action produces loud wet sounds. You bite back a moan even though it’s tough to do so.

“Come on, baby! Let me hear you.” Hoseok speaks into your tit. His saliva runs down your bosom.

“B-but Sua is-”

“Her room is upstairs, remember?”

“O-Oh. I completely forgot you fucked Mina neumerous tim- Ah” a bite of sharp teeth on the sensitive skin of your nipple restricts you from completing the sentence.

Hoseok slaps on your other tit harshly and bites on your nipple again.

“Hoseok!” you let out a thunderous moan.

When he finally leaves you tits, those are covered in red, purple bruises.

Hoseok winds a hand around your naked waist and picks you up easily. You wrap your legs around his torso, letting him take you to his bedroom.

On other times you would take a look at the decoration of someone’s bedroom as that tells a lot about a person. But right now you can only think of Hoseok’s body, his mouth and those damned set of fingers.

He drops you onto his plush bed and hooks his fingers around the waistband of your underwear. Once those are discarded, he takes off his own slacks.

His strong thighs make you wanna ride him till you come undone. But then your eyes fall on his bulge. The anticipation of his rock hard cock filling you up makes your head spin.

“Let me see you, baby!” Hoseok cooes at you and only then you realize, you have been clenching your thighs and blocking the views.

Hoseok urges your legs open. Hungrily staring at your leaking core, he licks his lips.

“Fuck! The most beautiful cunt of the most woman I have ever seen. You are a fucking goddess! I will worship the ground that you walk on.” Hoseok groans briefly before he dives down into your heat.

As soon as his mouth comes in contact with your cunt, you start seeing stars.

He kisses your mound, then your folds and then your clit. He takes it into his mouth and sucks the bundle of nerves as his life depends on it.

And when he enters a finger into your core, you feel your heat building.

His tongue plays with your clit as two of his fingers plunge into your hole at a rhythmic pace. It’s too much to take, so you voice, “Ho-Hoseok! I’m gonna c-cum.”

“Yes darling. Cum on my mouth.” he takes out his fingers from your hole and replaces those with his tongue. His fingers do the job of drawing tight eight figures on your clit in the meantime. And as a result, he rips out one of the best orgasms you have ever had. Your scream accompanies your release as you cum in Hoseok’s mouth.

“So sweet. So fucking sweet.” Hoseok stands on his feets.

You are so fucked out already that you miss the moment when he releases his cock from its confinement and strokes it twice.

When your eyes finally fall on his naked body, you start getting wet again.

“Oh god, Hoseok!” you try to sit up and take a hold of his meat.

Wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock, you give a kitten lick and wipe away his pre-cum. Hoseok shudders with your touch.

But he takes his cock away from your hand and murmurs, “You can suck me dry later baby. I really really want to be inside you now. Will you let me?”

Sitting on your knees, you place a kiss on his lips, “Do whatever you want, Hoseok. I am all yours.”

Hoseok grabs you by your neck and smashes his lips on yours, “You drive me crazy!” His words vibrate into your mouth.

He tactfully lays you down and snatches a packet of condom from the drawer of his night stand before climbing on the bed. Rolling down the same around his girthy length and lines his cock on your entrance.

“Can I?” He asks briefly before pushing himself inside your greedy hole slowly.

He gives you a few moments to adjust first and when you are done he starts moving.

“Fuck! So tight! Fuck!!!” Hoseok growls as he holds you in your place by your waist.

The first few thrusts are slow, he takes his time with preparing you. But then you whine, “Hoseok! Faster!”

“Whatever you say, baby.” Hoseok mutters briefly as he urges you to sit up and change position. He pulls himself out of you.

Within a moment you are on your fours.

He grabs you by your waist and slams himself inside again, pulling out an earth shattering moan from your mouth.

His other hand reaches for your neck and then ventures into your hair. He grabs and pulls your hair gently as he thrust into you harshly again.

The thrusts are so powerful that your words morph into nothingness and come out as gibberish. You start clenching around him sooner than you would like to admit and you know you are gonna cum again.

“I- c-cu” and you cum on his cock even before Hoseok could offer you a reply.

“Shit!” He growls as he cums in the condom.

Your body falls on the bed, you are too exhausted to even get up and clean yourself.

But soon enough you feel one strong arm sliding underneath your stomach and flipping you over. Hoseok lays you down on your back and then places a damp cloth in between your legs. He cleans you thoroughly.

Honestly, you want to cry. When you peek at his face, you see nothing but admiration. He gives you a small smile and continues.

Once he is done, he lays down beside you. Greets you a small good night, wraps his arms around you and kisses on your crown as you slowly melt into a dreamless sleep.

He still can’t believe it.

Hoseok still can’t believe that you are now his. His to hold, his to kiss, his to love and do all the things he wants to do to you, with you.

Without any doubt, last night was one of the best nights of his life until now. And now that he knows how it is to fall asleep beside you and wake up with you sleeping in his arms, he doesn’t want a life without this.

He traces the contour of your face with his thumb as if to make it into a muscle memory. Your eyes, your nose, your lips.. He wants to remember everything, he wants to engrave it into his brain.

Your alarm goes off, breaking your sleep.

You stir awake and then look for your phone on the nightstand. Turning it off, you look at him and give him one of your most beautiful smiles.

“Good morning.” gosh! Your sleepy voice is perfect.

“Good morning, darling.” If hoseok isn’t wrong then he can clearly see you blushing at the nickname.

“How did it come here? I definitely left it at your dining place.” You ask him, pointing at your phone.

“I brought it. Thought you might have an alarm set and see I was right.” he reaches down and places a kiss on top of your nose.

“Umm. so considerate.” you mirror his actions. He giggles at that.

“I need to get up now. Do you have an extra toothbrush?” you ask, starting to get up from the bed.

“Y/N! I could drop you. It’s not a big deal.” Hoseok whines. He wants to spend as much time with you as possible. Or better he doesn’t want to let you go. But he knows you have work to attend and he values that.

“I know, Hoseok. But I don’t want you to wake Sua up and drop her to your sisters’ this early. And on top of that the cab is almost here.” you take your purse and follow Hoseok outside his mansion.

Hoseok intertwines his fingers with yours and pulls you closer once you are at the porch, “I don’t want to let you go.”

“Neither do I want to, handsome. But Namjoon will kill me if I take another day off. I slacked off for two entire weeks after my break up.” The mention of your break up somewhat dims the light in your eyes but Hoseok knows he can make it better. He can heal you.

He puts a hand on your cheek and places a chaste kiss on your lips, “So, today is our day 1?”

He knows he has successfully diverted your mind when your cheeks turn darker and a sheepish smile takes over your lips.

“If you say so.” you murmur.

Just right then the cab pulls in outside Hoseok’s mansion. You hug him and bid him goodbye.

“Y/N” he stops you when you are about to tear apart from him, “what are you doing this weekend?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Great then.”

And with that you leave. Even though it upsets him, it also fills him with a new excitement of seeing you in two days.

Saturday comes painfully slowly.

But the prospect of seeing Hoseok not as your counselee’s guardian but as your boyfriend has kept you filled with an incredible amusement.

You two pondered on what to do and where to go for your first official date. But no options satiated you. You kept making excuses for whatever he came up with and there is a reason why.

You wanted to spend time with him inside the comfort of your home. And when you presented the idea to him, he agreed in a heartbeat.

The preparations have kept you busy since morning and it’s almost the time of his arrival.

So you change your clothes, slip into a fresh pair of tee and shorts, wash your face and apply some lip balm.

As always, Hoseok is right on time. He rings the doorbell right at 7 pm, just as you two decided.

“Hey, come in.” you open the door wide open, welcoming him inside.

He has arrived with a large bouquet of red roses and a plastic bag full of soju bottles.

“Flowers for a flower.” He offers you the bouquet and you can’t help but tsk.

“So cheesy, Mr. Jung.”

“I’m sorry.” he laughs out loud.

Once you are done putting away his presents, you take a good look at him.

He has his hair down today, unlike the other times you have seen him. His fluffy hair covers his forehead, making him look younger. His lips, as always, are inviting. And he has chosen to dress himself in an oversized white hoodie and baggy jeans.

“You.. are looking so beautiful, baby.” It’s hoseok who compliments you first. Wrapping his arms around you, he takes you in his embrace.

“I was about to say the same. You look so handsome, so domestic.” letting your lips capture his in a kiss, you show him how much you have missed him for two days.

“Is it okay for you to stay the night?” You ask Hoseok in between your ragged breaths. His mouth sucks on that one spot on your neck, that gets you all weak.

“Sua is with her grandparents and she likes them more than me.” He replies, pulling his mouth away from your skin for a second.

“I doubt that. She loves her daddy the most.” You giggle as Hoseok’s hands slide inside your t-shirt.

He shuts his eyes as soon as you emphasize you on “daddy.”

“Can you call me that again?” his voice trembles a bit.

“What? Daddy?” It's such a pleasure to tease him like that.

“Don’t tease me, Y/N!” his nails dig into the flesh of your waist.

“I’m not teasing you. I am asking. Is that what you liked to be called? Daddy?”

“Fuck it!” Hoseok growls as he captures your lips in a hungry, rough kiss. His hands reach up to your tits, groping the flesh to snatch a moan out of your lips.

And just then the doorbell rings.

You whine into his mouth before breaking the kiss.

“Who is it now!” clearly being very annoyed, you charge up to the door.

“Hello, who is it?” asking through the door dash cam, you wait for an answer.

Whoever is outside, is wearing a helmet and from the angle of the camera, it’s impossible to tell if it’s someone you know or not.

“Courier service.” the muffled voice of the person replies.

You don’t think much. You usually receive a lot of mail for seminars and stuff that has become a common feat.

So you open the door.

But to your dismay, the person wearing that damned helmet and bikers’ jacket is none other than your ex-boyfriend.

The scene slowly unfolds in front of Hoseok.

He sees your good mood turning sour as soon as you see the person standing at your door.

“What is it again?” you grit through your teeth.

This is the first time Hoseok is seeing you losing your cool and if he is not wrong then the person on the other side is your ex-boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook.

Even though your body is blocking the view, Hoseok can see the man taking off his helmet.

“I need to talk to you, Y/N. please.” he speaks in a calm voice as if it’s no big deal to knock on your ex’s door at 9 on a saturday.

Hoseok’s hands ball into fists. His blood boils at the thought of your ex-boyfriend trying to win you back even after he left you for someone else.

“I don’t understand what the fuck is left to talk about?” you scream at his face.

“Y/N, Please. I know you can’t forgive me for what I have done to you but I understood it. I- I realized my mistakes. I thought I fell out of love with you but-” the man sighs, his voice trembles constantly, “but I was wrong. I broke up. I- I ended things with her as soon as I realized I still love you. I never stopped loving you. I never-”

For a moment, Hoseok is afraid. What if you take him back? What if you accept his apologies and take him back into your life. What will be left for Hoseok then?

But, “It’s too late, Jungkook.” you cut him off.

“Y/N, please.”

“I don’t feel anything for you anymore. And I will appreciate it if you leave now.”

“Y/N, listen to me-”

“Didn’t you hear what she said? She asked you to leave, Mr. Jeon.” Hoseok intervenes. Even though he knows he should not butt in, but you are now his, and it’s his responsibility to protect you.

You turn your head to meet his eyes. Your face is apologetic as if you are ashamed of whatever is happening right now. He assures you a small “it’s okay”.

Then he looks at the man standing at your door, only to find him glaring already.

“And who are you to come between us?” Jungkook’s voice is now laced with venom.

“I am her boyfriend.” Hoseok replies as he walks up to you and stands between you and Jungkook as if protecting you from an impending danger.

Taglist 1:-

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Taglist 2:-

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twopoppies · 4 months

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Gina, have you seen the article about Hs workout routine for LOT? I mean, we all saw the results… but I find it almost even more impressive to learn how its been done! His dedication and work ethic is so inspiring and surely part of why I adore him so much 🫠🫶

Holy hell. No wonder he’s in such great shape. Just a note that Thibo David was his old trainer with Live On Tour. I assume Brad Gould was his new trainer for Love on Tour. But I doubt his regimen was any less insane.

[…]

If you include the one-mile run and bodyweight challenge, this is the hardest warm-up I’ve ever done, but, given the intensity required for the next two elements I’m promoting them to workout status.

[…]

David says Harry Styles can run a mile in an impressive 5min 13sec—a standard some of the professional athletes David coaches can’t match—but I was urged to run my own race.

[…]

This was far closer to my wheelhouse as a CrossFit fan. I chose to tackle it in alternating sets of 10, transitioning quickly between exercises to finish within the eight-minute limit. But even commando rolling from push-up to sit-up then springing into the squats left me little time to spare.

[…]

I took 7min 39sec, and, somewhat unexpectedly, given I can barbell squat more than 300lb, it was my quads that blew up the most. Whether this was the result of the one-mile run before it or heavy front squats the day before, I couldn’t say, but my thighs were on fire by the final rep.

“I like to say that I train very smart, but you also have to be very stupid sometimes, you know? Do this type of workout in the most stupid way; go hard at the task at hand, like when you throw a ball for a dog and it goes super crazy.

“This is a very good workout for that. Very good at building everything that needs to be added after the aerobic base; aggressiveness, speed, that go-hard mentality.”

[…]

Things did become particularly spicy during round three and four though, as my body began to tire with the sustained effort.

My posterior chain (the muscles running along the back side of the body) took a battering from the kettlebell swings and sandbag-over-shoulders, my already-fried legs felt heavy during the box jumps, and my shoulders grew tired from two minutes of straight clean and presses—it was a serious test of muscular endurance.

[…] I also did 12 total rounds—I wanted the full Styles experience, after all—but I’d live to regret this. The hill I chose grew progressively steeper as I worked my way up it, and by the eighth round I felt like death. My sprints turned to slogs, and the time it took me to complete the distance I established in the first interval grew longer.

[…] The prior running and box jumps didn’t help either, but I got it done eventually in less than 30 minutes.

[…]

This was a relaxing way to wrap up a far from relaxing morning of training, and gave me a second to catch my breath after a monumental effort which lasted a little over two hours.

I swapped his day of training for one of my usual CrossFit sessions and had a lot of fun doing it. Every part of my body felt like it had been put through the ringer thanks to the muscle-burning circuit and lung-taxing running elements. I was also very, very hungry.

Another thing that impressed me was Styles’ evident fitness levels and work ethic; how he has the energy to perform for two hours during a stadium tour is no longer a mystery.

Another thing I liked about my chat with David was his openness and honesty. I often see articles online saying celebrities do a few Pilates classes or HIIT workouts each week to stay in unbelievable shape, and he was keen to dispel this myth.

“Collaborating with Harry Styles was an absolute delight; his commitment is unparalleled,” says David.

“But it’s important to note that this level of training isn’t suitable for everyone. Harry was inherently fit, but achieving the level of fitness needed for this session still required time, work and effort. Rushing into such high-volume workouts can pose risks.”

David also stressed that sessions of this intensity weren’t done every day, and the nature of his workouts will often “depend on the day and the state of the athlete”.

“It’s crucial to emphasize the significance of proper periodization,” says David. “Not every day constituted an intense session. In fact, we strategically incorporated recovery sessions which often involved a light run combined with core exercises and mobility work. Every workout was thoughtfully placed within the overall training plan.”

Read, full article here

#exercise Harry #workout Harry #fitness Harry #thibo david

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becauseicantthinkwritings · 1 year

Text

Teeth

Part 10

Werepanther!Billy Russo x Female Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: Nothing much really, some smut, some angst, loads of dumbassery.

I'm waiting for you outside.' Is what he texts you on your first day back to work.

'Why?'

'Isn't it obvious?'

Oh, you hated him.

He looks fucking hot, because of course he does, dressed in his usual, but unbelievably attractive, work attire.

The bane of your existence that he is, gives you a nod of his head in greeting.

"I'm driving you to work."

The audacity.

You stop right in front of him, looking up at him evenly, trying your hardest not to smile, or look away, or look down at his lips-

"What makes you think, I want you to drive me to work?"

He returns your stare easily, and if you were any less angry with him, you would have folded.

"I know you don't feel safe, and I want to help you with that however I can."

"I didn't ask for your help, I'm fine on my own." You say obstinately.

A smile pulls on his face for a second, and you feel yourself get even angrier that he would find humor while you stare him down.

"I know you're fine on your own," he says, leaning into you.

You gulp at the praise, taking a step back, he guides you, corrals you, until your back is pressed against his car.

"I know how strong and how capable you are." He follows up, bracing one hand on the car right beside you, you glance down at it, observing the shine of his watch, feeling your heart vibrate rapidly in response to his closeness.

"I think, you're maybe one of the best in your fields- if not the best and I don't think there's much problems you can't fix."

"Uh-" You try to protest.

His other hand pressing against the car on the other side of you makes you shut up really quickly. You look up at him as he looms over you, the scent of jasmine filling your senses, his eyes are even, and dark, demanding your attention.

"But I know security, and your safety is very important to me. So get in the car, and let me at least drive you to work."

Your eyes drop down to his lips.

God, how you want to kiss him. Just throw caution to the wind and slant your mouth against his until you steal his hot breath with each slide of your tongue on his-

Shit. This was not the way you wanted to interact with him today. You wanted to be casual and indifferent, pull away and keep your distance, not think about jumping him the minute he got too close to you.

You knew how he would play this, gentle and earnest now, and then cold to you later. If whiplash was a person, you'd be staring right at him.

You still couldn't shake the way his words made you feel. The way he believed in you so easily made you want to melt into a hot, sticky puddle at his feet.

So you find some common ground, nodding your head in assent, watching him lean away from you. You turn, pulling the door open, and climbing into the passenger seat of his car without looking back.

It's a lot more torment than you can manage. The whole way there, you're thinking about how easy it would be to fuck him in the back seat, have him drop his pants and you'd lift your skirt and sink right down onto him. You wonder what kind sounds he'd make-

"Do you want to pick the music?" He asks easily, unlocking his phone and leaning it your way.

Your hands shake when you take it, picking a song you like and letting it play.

You study him intently, he keeps a straight face as the song plays.

It burns at you to the point where you have to ask.

"What do you think?" You ask evenly, trying your hardest not to ramble.

Do you like it? Do you hate it? I'm sorry if it's shit.

You don't understand why you need his approval so much. Why did it matter to you?

What was it about him, that made you want every ounce of attention he could give you?

"It's good. It's not my specific taste but I like it." He answers, glancing over at you.

You smile.

"It's really funny. I think I have the best music taste but also I'm so insecure about it too." You try to explain, beating yourself up after you say it.

You watch his mouth twitch in amusement.

"That's very cute."

You turn away to look out the window so that he doesn't see how wide you smile.

"I just noticed- you got your necklace back." Bily comments, as you sit across from him in his office.

You raise a hand, touching the panther.

"Yeah," You say with a smile, "Someone brought it back for me."

"I'm glad to hear it."

You swallow with a nod, eager to get back to discussing work, trying to reduce the amount of time you spend around him, worried that you'll just keep saying stupid shit.

He doesn't like the distance.

The physical chasm between you was hard enough to handle as is, but now you're actively trying to avoid him as much as possible at Anvil.

Sure, the drives to work kept you close, he was able to see you everyday, talk to you, even just a little.

But you'd taken to holding your tongue around him, smiling and nodding, or giving one word answers when necessary.

It was fucking agony.

He wanted that sweet girl back, the one that found difficulty in keeping quiet.

Billy suspected it was in part his fault. He doubted he was the most welcoming face, and he knew sometimes he came across dismissive when he was trying to tamp the beast down, his slipping self control could make him come across as irritable. There was also the guilty feeling in his chest when he got too close. He didn't want to devalue your work in any way.

But keeping you safe had become necessary.

With the robbery happening when he'd been dealing with the full moon, Billy realized that he'd have to be more vigilant.

New York could be so unsafe, and Billy would not let another hurt you.

He swallows angrily when images of the little scratches on your skin materialise in his head.

Killing those men had been necessary. Carving their faces up until they had been barely recognisable, leaving them in a place easily found by the target audience was detrimental.

The predator had been pleased with the shocked faces of those that had observed his work. The message had been clear; tread lightly, there was no criminal organisation out there that could keep anyone safe from him.

Billy wakes up when you say his name.

He blinks, sitting up in bed rubbing his eyes when he catches sight of you.

You're dressed in a satin nightdress, his hands clench into fists, eager to get his hands on the material.

He says your name, watches you smile at him as you get closer.

He's not wearing anything, only the black sheets tucked around his lower half protect you from seeing his hardening cock.

You don't seem to mind his state of undress, crawling into his bed, and not stopping until you're straddling his lap, right atop his covered cock.

He groans, and he watches you smile mischievously.

You lean closer, and Billy tilts his head up, closes his eyes, eager to kiss you.

All you do is press your forehead to his, rubbing your nose against the slant of his.

He says your name, a plea, an ask of desperation, begging you not to tease him.

You hum, little fingers wrapping behind his neck, a comforting hand on the edges of shredding his self control.

When he tilts his head up for a kiss, you move your head back.

Your fingers wander, exploring what's yours. Billy closes his eyes and surrenders himself to it, feels the trace of your gentle fingers over his collarbones.

He tilts his head back, all the weight of his torso propped onto his arms keeping him upright. He feels your fingers explore them too, carefully assessing each bicep, each line of his muscle.

He hopes you like it- the shape of his body- he hopes you like what you see.

He lets out a low groan when your fingers trace his chest, his skin tingles in the best way. He feels so open, vulnerable for you, and he can't fathom enough thought to build any walls against you and the way you make him feel.

He lets you explore his torso, eager fingers reaching behind to rub your soft hands against his back. His breath catches when he feels your nails claw against his skin for a brief moment.

He raises his head, tries to kiss you again, only to have you pull back with another teasing laugh.

Why were you punishing him? Hadn't he endured enough torment?

Apparently not, because in the next moment you drop your head to kiss his neck.

"Fuck." He grunts, tilting his head to give you more space to work, letting you kiss his neck to your heart's content.

You let out a hum of delight and his cock jumps, he loves the sounds you make.

You take it as an invitation, beginning to rock your hips against his gently, while you kiss his neck.

When kissing is not enough, he feels your teeth come out to play.

Perhaps you were a predator too.

Biting and licking and kissing his skin and all he wants to do is give in to you, let you take anything you wanted.

He just wanted to belong to you.

"I'm close." He warns, gasping as your hips speed up, doesn't remember any point in his life where he was this on edge from just someone touching him.

He can't fight it, fingers gripping your hair, pulling your head back so that he can press his lips to yours.

He wakes up, cock aching painfully.

It doesn't take much, just the dip of his right hand below the thin sheets, pretending that his rough palm was really your soft one, and stroking himself to completion easily.

His body heaves in air, post-orgasmic bliss easing the tension in his body.

He sits up, tosses the sheets off with his other hand and moves to clean himself up.

You're still asleep. He can see you through the open curtains of your room.

You'd started sleeping with them open, maybe a day or two now, and the beast hums, contented that he may have factored into you feeling safe in your own home.

You shift, pulling a pillow tightly into your body, tossing a lithe leg over it.

Billy smiles to himself, admiring you curled up, wishing he could be there with you.

He shakes his head, takes a deep breath. Your safety came first, and he was making steady progress on that- too much progress for him to stop now.

Sometimes he texts you at the end of the work day to tell you that he's waiting by his car for you. Other times, he shows up in your little office space, leaning against the door to look at you steadily until you notice him. Today, it's the former.

You've been doing this little dance for almost a week now, you're not sure how sustainable it is, but you're stubborn, and you refuse to indulge him in any kind of deeper interaction because you know he's just going to pull away again.

It was all muddled in your head, the way you felt about him, and the lengths you went to so that you could hide those feelings, the way he acted toward you, not saying a word to you in the elevator, but holding you so tight after you'd been attacked.

It was obviously, just better to pull away, which you had definitely been trying to do. You knew it would save you a lot of heartache later.

Unwilling to admit to yourself that maybe you were in heartache right now.

You almost fall when you see him.

He's bent over, foot propped against a little ledge built into the wall behind his car, running a soft cloth over the tip of his boot.

He's dressed in partial tactical clothing, tight shirt tucked into combat pants, and your mouth dries up at the very sight of him.

"Billy?" You call, as you make your way to him.

He raises his head, says your name in greeting.

When he catches your eyes roaming the expanse of his chest he looks down.

"Ran some combat sims today." He explains.

You nod, swallowing.

"Right." Is all you say, opening his car door and slipping inside without another word.

You let out a shaky breath.

Holy fuck was he hot. Surface of the sun scorching and even worse when dressed in attire that forced you to think about how he would look using a gun.

God, you squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease the ache inside of you. This definitely was not helping you pull away from him.

You startle a little when he opens the driver's side door and slips inside.

Your eyes are fixed directly forward, you hear him take a deep breath.

"How was work today?" He asks, his voice hitting a low timbre, still soft despite the rumble.

"Good," You reply, matching his soft tone, uncaring of how innapropriate it might be.

Your clit was aching too much for you to worry about appropriateness.

"I like solving problems." You follow up unnecessarily.

He hums, you squeeze your eyes shut when his car roars to life.

"Are you hungry? We can stop for something on the way home." Billy offers.

Home, because both of you were going to near the same destination.

"I'm okay." You answer tersely, "I'm gonna whip up something at home."

He nods, deep in thought.

"Is it okay if I stop? I'm not feeling to cook for myself today."

Your mouth parts, you turn to him. He glances at you when he notices your movement.

"I can- If- If you want- I'm making pasta and I always make too much-" Fuck fuck fuck, what were you doing? What happened to keeping your distance?

You take a deep breath to gather your thoughts.

"Would you like to come over for dinner? I'll make pasta. Or it's not a problem if you want to get something else-"

"-I'd like that." He interrupts, and you can't help the heat that flushes throught your body.

"Good." You nod in acceptance, turning away from him to face forward once again, pretending to be casual when really, you could feel the slippery glide of your arousal between your legs.

How many times does he have to fight himself, before it's too much?

Your scent fills the enclosed space of his car, your arousal so prominent he can near taste it in the air. It wraps around him, seeps into his every pore, torments him.

The beast rages.

Billy swallows, tightening his already white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel- a few more minutes of this and he's going to damage his car.

He glances over at you, you're typing animatedly into your phone, he studies your hair, memorises it, takes another deep breath.

He wonders how soft the skin of your bare thighs would be, he thinks about the way it would feel against his face.

He takes another deep breath at a traffic light, tries to be calm but the only air he can breathe is full of you.

"Are you allergic to anything?" You murmur, seemingly deep in thought.

He forces himself to think for a moment.

"Allergic- no, but I really hate green beans."

You hum, typing something into your phone.

"No green beans. Got it."

You accept it so easily, you don't ask why, and he likes that. He likes how easy you accept him.

"I don't like broccoli either, and cabbage is on thin ice."

At this, you give a little giggle, he smiles at the sound, feels himself be put at ease.

"I love broccoli, but I hate the way people make it seem that picky kids are a parent's worst nightmare. No one faults adults for being picky. I'm sorry if your parents made you feel bad for not liking what you don't like."

He sighs, blinks, doesn't want to turn the atmosphere sour with his past, but something inside of him itches for the comfort you would no doubt give.

"I don't really have parents." he says softly. He watches you turn to look at him from the corner of his eye.

"You don't?" You ask.

He shakes his head slowly, eyes fixed on the road as the traffic light turns green.

"I grew up in a group home, I don't know if my parents would have made me feel bad or not, but the people that took care of me definitely did." He ends with a humorous tone in his voice, trying somehow to lighten the mood.

He's hyperfixated on every breath you take as you process the information.

"I'm sorry." You finally say.

"It's-"

"-Are you really going to say it's alright? Was it actually? Did you feel safe and protected? Did you get to have toys and your favourite foods?"

Billy hadn't expected this. No one before had really prodded him after he'd given the brief overview.

"No." He says simply.

"Is that why you hate green beans?"

Right on the money.

"Yes." He answers, vaguely aware that he's shutting down, trying not to overshare his traumatising childhood.

"What's your favourite food?" You inquire softly.

He spares a glance in your direction.

You look at him evenly, Billy can tell your mind is already made up, despite his next attempts to change it.

"You don't have to-"

"-I know. I know I don't, but I want to. I know you're my boss, and maybe this is not the most appropriate thing, but maybe we can be friends too."

He couldn't fight the smile that pulls at his mouth even if he tried.

"Of course we can be friends." He murmurs, sparing another glance from the road to look at your face. Captivating in every way, blissful shelter, in a raging storm.

A/N: What song would you play for Billy that perfectly encapsulates your taste in music?

Mine is either Devil's Advocate by The Neighborhood or Take A Slice by Glass Animals

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #ben barnes #billy russo x female reader #my writings #the punisher #billy russo smut #werepanther billy russo #werepanther!billy russo #monster!billyrusso #monster!billy russo #monster!billy

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effloradox · 8 months

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I love Taylor swift and twilight! Ur blog is perfection 💜! Do you mind doing more jasper fan fics!

thank you so much, you're so sweet 🥺

Jasper doesn't like to talk about his past. Conversions about his history are reserved for late night whispers, when it's just the two of you in the safe haven of your room. It's not something you hold against him, you can't judge him for something he did over a hundred years ago in bad faith, but you know he feels resentment for the person he used to be. You know how much he struggles with controlling his thirst, and it’s still not the easiest thing for you to deal with.

The problem with introducing a human into a house full of vampires is that it had the potentially to go fatally wrong. Control is something that all your coven take very seriously, it's the only way you can continue to exist amongst humans after all. Everyone knows that it's you and Jasper that have the hardest time controlling yourselves around blood, it’s not exactly a secret. It never fails to astound you the sheer amount of control that Carlisle exhibits on a daily basis in his job. You're getting better with controlling your urges, and you haven't relapsed for a while but introducing a clumsy human into the house felt like a disaster waiting to happen.

In a way you blame Edward. Your emotions towards your adoptive brother are complicated even on a good day, but the idea of him bringing his human girlfriend into the house for her birthday felt like a terrible idea from the offset. Part of you had hoped Alice would have some dramatic vision that would mean you could call the whole thing off but all she'd seen was an admittedly nice vision of Bella blowing out the candles on her birthday cake surrounded by all of you.

It seemed Edward had forgotten how unbelievably accident prone his new girlfriend was though. An unforgivable oversight on his part, one you'll definitely be calling him out on later. You'd turned your back on the birthday girl for a second, just to look over to where Alice and Esme were putting the finishing touches on the cake when you'd smelt it. The acrid coppery smell of blood hit your nose instantly and every fibre of your being is drawn towards it like a forbidden siren call. Your sisters had moved to your side in an instant, only partially caging you against the kitchen counter you'd been leaning on. It's hard trying to centre yourself and not give into the urges, and it's only what's taking place on the other side of the kitchen that really brings you back to yourself.

Jasper is looking much worse for wear. His senses have honed in on Bella and all of you can tell he's only seconds away from pouncing. Emmett and Edward have their arms around him in an instant, stopping him from beelining towards the injured human but it's clear he's putting up enough of a fight that they'll struggle to restrain him for a long time. You're in front of him in the time it takes Bella to blink, your hands cupping his face gently to keep his eyes on you. Edward had pushed her towards the wall as soon as he'd heard Jasper's thoughts so she's not as close as she was, meaning she only hears fragments of what you're saying to him.

"Hey, hey, Jas it's okay. It's okay. It's just a little blood. Look at me, it's okay yeah?" Your words seem to be having some effect but Bella notes that Emmett and Edward still haven't let Jasper out of their grip. Carlisle appears by her side and she's vaguely aware that he's speaking to her but her eyes are still trained on you and Jasper. Your words seem to be having some kind of effect on him and it sends a small pang through her chest that you have the ability to calm Jasper down even in the face of the strongest temptation when Edward sometime can’t even look at her as a result of his urges.

Her eyes are still trained on the two of you as Esme leads her out of the room to go and find the first aid kit. The last thing she sees is Edward and Emmett letting Jasper go as he collapses in your arms almost bonelessly. His arms wrap around your waist as his head rests on your shoulder, giving you ample chance to press a chaste kiss to the crown of his head.

#my writing #drabbles #jasper cullen x reader #jasper hale x reader #requested #twilight x reader

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hubristicassholefight · 8 months

Text

Swordswoman Showdown Round 2 Part 1

Malenia (Elden Ring) vs Olivier Mira Armstrong (Fullmetal Alchemist)

(Better here in a "preferred character" sense, not "who would win in a fight")

Propaganda below cut

Malenia

She is arguably the hardest boss in any Fromsoft game.; She is the favorited boss of Animal from the Muppets.

"Arguably" the hardest boss in any fromsoft game? You don't even know. She is OBJECTIVELY the hardest boss in any fromsoft game. On march 1st 2023, a bit more than a full year since the game's release, From Software released the stats on the amount of attempts each boss took for the players collectively. As of march 1st 2023 Malenia has killed the players 329.000.000 times. That's 10 Tarnished every second. That's almost the entire population of the United States. Malenia is also an optional boss in a secluded area hidden away from everyone. According to PlayStation trophy statistics, only 37.9% of people who ever bought the game managed to even REACH Malenia in the first place. Which means among those 329.000.000 people she has obliterated were only the most dedicated of Fromsoft fans. Only 33.3% of people even managed to beat her. That number also includes everyone who beat her with summons, which makes her significantly easier. This means out of all people who bought the game on PlayStation 4 or 5 and reached Malenia which is about 3 million people, 377.000 just fucking dropped her, they didn't even do it with summons. Difficulty aside. Malenia is also extremely pretty and has the softest lips, her Goddess form looks like a painting. She fights with elegance and style unrivalled by any boss in the game, dancing through the battlefield with deadly, fluid motions. Malenia is also 256cm or 8'4" tall. Huge woman.

post let me solo her

youtube

#malenia is 8'4“ flat chested and broad shouldered#she kills you with incredible grace and poise#trans icon#id let her Waterfowl Dance on me and Infect Me with her Scarlet Rot...

#malenia is so dedicated to the sword it mends her failing body. she lives by fighting#her strongest attack is a technique that halts the progress of her terminal illness#i can never stop thinking about that. by all means she couldve rotted into a mile of mush before the game started#but she persists!! she persists!!!

Olivier Mira Armstrong

Her sword is a family heirloom and she can hold up against or defeat very formidable opponents; She is so unbelievably cool

Extremely cool and intimidating military general with a signature heirloom sword.

She has a really fancy family heirloom sword. Stabs a man and throws him into liquid cement to suffocate alive after he tries to get her to abandon her men to be part of a nation-wide conspiracy, challenges a subordinate to a duel of life and death (with the sword), nervous tic is tapping on the hilt of the sword. She demanded that her father retire and make her the head of the family instead of her brother, and then fought against said brother (including with the sword)(won the fight), among other things stabbed a homunculus into the head; I loved this character because her personality was so refreshing. Really blunt and rational, but will show her love for her subordinates and family through actions rather than words. When the main characters first ask her for help, her motivations are entirely selfish (gaining knowledge to use for power). It is established several times that she really is scary, and isn't afraid to immediatly fight someone on the spot to prove a point. Literally pulls a "I'm getting so old, I'm afraid a women like me will never find a husband," to manipulate a superior. All in all, she could stab me and it would be the greatest accomplishment I had made in my life so far.

Her sword has been passed down the Armstrong line for generations. She is an expert in sword fighting and military strategy. She always holding it when commanding her troops.

She wields a saber passed down as a family heirloom; while she also sometimes uses guns and tanks, this is her primary weapon, which she used to kill the super-strong Homunculus Sloth the Indolent several times (she did, however, need help from others to kill him permanently, due to Sloth's ability to regenerate from death); As a Major General, Olivier is the highest-ranking woman in her country's military; she is also the moral highest-ranked military officer in her country, as she joins in a rebellion once she has confirmation as to how corrupt the military leaders are.

#malenia #elden ring #olivier mira armstrong #fullmetal alchemist #official #poll #round 2 #swordswoman showdown #Youtube

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noyzinerd · 11 months

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My Sterek snippets-Part 2

As promised, two more, separate, but related, snippets from my wip "Pseudology" (that I have no idea how to connect).

"So, let me get this straight. You know that I like you?"

"Yes."

"And I now know that you like me?"

"Yes."

"But you and I aren't ever going to do anything about it?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Because we like each other too much…? And since getting together is only going to end badly for the both of us, we're not even going to try. Am I getting this right?" He couldn't help the exasperated, annoyed tone that came out with those words.

Even if he didn't outwardly show it in his words, Derek's tight lipped half smile was more than enough of an indicator that he understood Stiles' feelings way too well. "Exactly."

Stiles roughly scratched his short nails over his scalp, through his hair, at the mere thought of how close he had been to having Derek this whole time, to still being able to have him, if it weren't for the unbelievably aggravating cock-block that was their morals.

Derek liked him. He had liked him. Stiles was having a really hard time wrapping his head around this new revelation. Around the fact that Derek goddamn Hale had feelings for him. Moreover, it actually sounded like Derek was friggin' head over heels, over the fucking moon for Stiles! The guy had been for years! YEARS! At the same exact time Stiles had been pining over him too. He had had a chance and he hadn't even known it.

What was worse was that, not even 20 whole minutes after finding out this lost opportunity of a lifetime, Derek was telling him that 'they' weren't going to be a thing. 'They' were never going to be a thing, because Derek was scared that trying to 'keep' Stiles was going to make him lose him forever. Derek had come up with this crazy plan for them to ignore both of their feelings and pretend like they weren't attracted to each other. For the rest of their lives.

And that wasn't even the craziest part about all this.

No, the craziest thing was that Stiles had goddamn fucking agreed to this! Because his stupid, overwhelmingly noble set of principles knew that, no matter how easy it would be to just lean in and kiss some sense into Derek, Stiles could never force him to do something he was so opposed to. Derek's mind seemed pretty set on yearning for Stiles from a distance until they both either moved on or died.

Hence, their current predicament.

Both desperately wanting to be with each other.

And at the same time, also desperately wanting to be anything but with each other.

Wanting to always be there to protect each other.

But also wanting to be as far away from each other as possible. To protect each other. From each other.

So, basically they wanted each other, but they also didn't want to want each other, while also not wanting to not want wanting each other.

God, this was all making his head hurt.

The sigh that left his body took most of his fight with it as it blew out his mouth. Stiles took a second to clench his hand painfully in his hair with a muffled, frustrated "AAAARGH!!!" into the elbow of his sweater (slightly startling Derek in the process), before composing himself and making one of the hardest, stupidest decisions in his young life.

"Okay," he said resignedly.

Without looking over at the man next to him, Stiles stared ahead wearily towards the gently sloshing pool as he forced himself to take all of the feelings of hope he had ever felt for him and Derek and smush them like a firefly under a really heavy book. He imagined catching every 'what if' scenario floating in his head in a butterfly net, tying off the overstuffed net, and drowning them all in a big jar of water. No more thinking about their hands accidentally brushing in the Jeep. No more happy thoughts about what it might have felt like to lay on Derek's broad chest as they read a book together. No more thinking about what it might have been like to have strong arms hugging him from behind. Or what it might have been like to steal Derek's toast from out of his hand in the morning because Stiles was late for work. Or elbowing each other at the sink they shared as they fought to brush their teeth at the same time. Or hearing someone whisper tenderly in his ear 'I love you' and actually mean it for once.

As painful as it was, Stiles knew that it would be worse moving forward with the want of something more when he knew he and Derek weren't going to happen. He had to accept that. It would be unfair to keep pushing his expectations onto Derek, knowing that Derek couldn't give him that, and Stiles wasn't sure he would be able to survive another Lydia-esque type of relationship of desperately throwing himself at someone for ten years until he finally got deemed worthy enough for attention.

In the end, this was what would be the best for them.

It had to be.

Stiles couldn't afford to think otherwise.

"Okay, you know what? That's it." Stiles jumped to his feet, whirling angrily to stare down at Derek. The conviction in his eyes was eerily similar to the fed up, no-nonsense, 'here's how this is going to go' look Stiles had leveled him while 'harbouring his fugitive ass'. Derek had already known he wasn't going to win this argument the moment Stiles had opened his mouth. Even though Stiles hadn't laid into him yet, he knew he wouldn't stand a chance against all the well-thought out, overanalyzed points Stiles had probably gone over in his head thousands of times. Derek was going to lose and Stiles would end up being his boyfriend whether he liked it or not, and there was nothing he could do about it. A part of him was scared shitless at the idea, fully preparing to go down claws swinging.

Another part of him was on the edge of its seat with perked ears, desperate for Stiles to prove him wrong.

"I. Am. So. Done. You hear me? I'm tired, Derek. I'm tired of always being the responsible one. I'm tired of investigating glowing keys instead of making out with hot girls. I'm tired of studying werewolf migrations while Scott makes out with whatever girlfriend he happens to be with. I'm tired of stopping Alphas when I finally get first seat in lacrosse. I'm tired of driving the girl I've wanted for years to a dance to show up her ex. I'm tired of letting a girl work out her PTSD on my dick. I'm tired of getting carpal tunnel from writing six extra pages of notes for everybody in every class because being a werewolf apparently means never having time to study and dropping out of classes on a dime! More than anything, I'm tired of being miserable for the sake of everyone's happiness and then pretending I'm not miserable, because me having problems in my life would be inconvenient for everybody. Especially when an ID tag needs to be pickpocketed or blue prints need to be printed out. I've stepped aside for you and the rest of the pack for years and dammit if I can't get to have at least one thing that makes me happy. We're done doing what you want this time, Derek, alright?"

"Stiles, I'm not just going to go back on what I believe is best for us just because you find it unfair. You think I like teaming up with Peter every time Beacon Hills has a crisis? Do you think I like living with that son of a bitch? Sharing the same air as him? The bastard killed my sister! We all have to do things we don't want to do, put up with things we don't like, because we have to. Life is unfair. Some of us don't get to go to the Winter Formal, let alone take the girl of our dreams, because some of us no longer had a place to live. You want to complain about school, lacrosse, problems with your best friend? You're lucky to have had any of those at all! You have so much to be happy for. You don't need me to have that. In fact, you have more to lose being with me. So much. Being with me is just going to fuck it all up, Stiles. Why can't you see that?"

"Alright, Derek. Kid gloves are coming off. Wanna play hard ball? I'll play hard ball. You have three reasons why we can't be together. One: you think you'll get me hurt. Two: you think you're a bad relationship magnet. Three: you think all the terrible supernatural stuff that happens to me is your fault. Let's break 'em down. Number one: I'm going to get hurt with or without you. When you were here, we were attacked by the Kanima. When you left for South America, I was possessed by the Nogitsune. When you were here, I was attacked by Gerard Argent. When you were gone, I was attacked by a chimera and the ghost riders. Not everything is about you, Derek. I get hurt. The people of Beacon Hills are just in a hot spot of weird and that's not your fault. Number two: you're not the only one of us that's been in a string of awful relationships. They happen. But, you know what? That doesn't mean good relationships and good people don't exist. The moment you doubt the likelihood of your relationship, you're dooming it to fail. And finally, number three: if there's anyone to blame for not having a normal life, it's me. I was the one who dragged Scott into the woods because I was a dumb kid that wanted to see a dead body, which I can't even begin to apologize for, and who abandoned Scott in the woods to be attacked. I got him into this whole werewolf mess in the first place, not you. If you want to get technical, Peter was the one who bit him if you want to blame someone. My point is: all of your reasons are stupid and are just there to keep up your brooding aesthetic, so you're going to shut your trap, quit displaying your dominance over everything, and listen to what I have to say for once. When—not if, when—we get out of here, you, Derek Samson Hale, are going on a fucking date with me. You are going to hold my goddamn hand while we watch a movie on my couch, preferably Star Wars but I'm willing to haggle. We are getting greasy take-out food, going out for ice cream cones, and looking over some kind of sparkly body of water or bright star constellations or-or city lights from a cliff or whatever twinkly shit is romantic that night until it gets way too cold. And don't think I'm taking it easy on you either. Oh, no. I'm going to be the cutest, most charismatic motherfucker you've ever seen. I'm talking full head-on-shoulder action during the movie, nonstop little half-smiles all day long, dropping a shit-ton of quarters out of my wallet while trying to find a bill smaller than a 50, and if you think for one second that I'm not going to boop you on the nose with my ice cream when you least expect it before licking it off your face, you better think again. I fully intend on charming the pants off you. Whether or not that's literal is up to you. That all okay with you?"

It was scary and new and he felt vulnerable and raw and it hurt to hope, but Stiles—smart, beautiful, cunning Stiles—was finally ripping down all of his carefully crafted excuses and telling him that it was okay to chase after something that made him happy.

"Okay."

[Part 1 of snippets]

#sterek #teen wolf #derek hale #tyler hoechlin #stiles stilinski #dylan o'brien #mieczysław stiles stilinski #snippet #wip #fanfiction #Whenever I post writings it's always from this fic #I'm probably never going to finish it #My headcanon that Derek's middle name is Samson because it means strength #Pseudology #Pseudologoi

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fallenwhumpee · 9 months

Note

Pls pls pls do another part of “this can’t be it” it was incredible!!!!

Of course! Glad you find it up to your tastes.

"This can't be it."

• Part 1 • Part 2 • Masterlist •

Warnings: Whumper-turned-whumpee, whumper-turned-caretaker, stitches.

Telling Whumper was angry would be the understatement of the year. Of the century. Their forces betrayed them in a horrible way. Just the audacity! How dare they try to kill their only way out of this mess.

As if they didn't notice that this was an attempt to balance the organisation's inner politics and make up their latest - and biggest - defeat. The only thing that came out good from this trap was that it let them have Leader, the only one Whumper had to deal with in person.

Though carrying them was getting harder every second. Leader was barely putting a step in front of another, and Whumper's dizziness wasn't making things any easier.

What the organisation didn't know was Whumper always had a backup plan. Always an exit rule, always a trick in their sleeve.

It was ironic that only Leader noticed those small things. Whumper appreciated that intelligence, and it often motivated Whumper. They loved the delight to say the last line or outsmart their rival and brag about it.

They slid through the corridors like maze, finally reaching to an underground bunker. They sealed the door, setting Leader down to a cot.

With less weight, they stumbled, blinking back as they clung to the edges of the cot. They pushed back a wave of nausea as they straightened, a groan escaping.

They pulled a med kit from under the cot.

They set it next to the motionless form of their enemy, not caring for the noise they made. They probably should have cared.

Leader's eyes snapped up with that, pushing them with a strength Whumper didn't think they possessed after taking a bullet.

Leader could only go two steps far before their legs gave up. Whumper caught them, carrying them back to the cot while Leader struggled as much as they could with the painful wound.

"Just don't move. You're going to get blood everywhere."

And apparently, this wasn't the right thing to tell the enemy at your mercy.

A fist sent them to the floor, their breaths knocing out of their chest as they hit the ground.

"That's not how you thank someone saved your life." Whumper got up, feeling their ribs ache. They were starting to think that they carried a mass of muscles down there.

Leader doubled over as they tried to sit to the edge of the cot, hissing. Whumper was glad that they stopped.

"Now, I know you want to go up and snap some necks, but I have to patch you up, or you will bleed to death."

Whumper got up slowly. They weren't in good shape either, but they were better than their unintentional companion.

"Pretty unbelievable when it was the only thing you wanted," Leader rasped. They didn't sound good.

"Shut up and lay down. I need some space to think a way out of this."

Surprisingly, Leader obeyed as they breathed through the pain with every movement.

Whumper finally found a chair and pulled it next to the cot. The med kit was fully equipped to patch up the mess in front of them.

"I will pull the bullet out now, do you need something to bite or...?"

"You can't have my kidneys."

Whumper chuckled. If Leader was making jokes, then the blood loss was yet to claim their coherency.

"Both the agency and organisation will pay for this."

"How—"

Whumper pulled the bullet out quickly, Leader screaming right after.

"Yeah well, now the stitches. The hardest is done."

They dumped the antiseptic into the wound, ignoring Leader trying to get a hold of their breaths.

"Now," Whumper started as they pushed the needle into Leader's skin. "I will get my revenge, and you will help me."

"Never," Leader gasped, but Whumper knew they would agree at the end.

#whump #whump writing #leader whumpee #leader whump #whumper turned whumpee #whumper turned caretaker #stitches

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coltermorning · 1 year

Text

Wanted: Day Three (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur Morgan x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: Away from camp where Arthur can keep a better eye on you, the pair of you argue your differences to pass the time and take advantage of the nearby lake.

Author’s Notes: Part three of this one.

Tags: Arthur Morgan x reader, eventual smut, enemies to lovers

AO3 Link

Wanted: Day Three

Word count: 5764

“You keep talking like that and you’ll lose the privilege.”

“You’re awfully threatening for a man who never follows through with them.”

You and Arthur had started the day bright and early with a shouting match over the fact that you had barely gotten any sleep, the colder weather and his hack job of a tie down keeping you from it. You had tried and failed for most of the night to pull free, and now your arms ached nearly as badly as the rest of you.

“Said you’d kill me and you didn’t,” you spat. “Twice. Now you’re threatening to, what, gag me? Keep me quiet? But you won’t. I reckon you got the least nerve out of any bounty hunter I know.”

He was trying hard to keep you from getting under his skin, but this seemed to cross a line. He stood and approached you where you still sat, bound and livid.

“You want me to hurt you?”

His words were low and quiet, intimidating in a way you had never felt from him. You took a breath. “I want you to quit mouthing off and untie me.”

“Oh, I ain’t thought of that. Sure, why don’t I just let you run off back to New Austin while I’m at it?”

You gritted your teeth. “From the ground, you bastard.”

He scoffed, the sound somewhere between a laugh and a dismissal. “Why should I? You ain’t been nothing but a pain in the ass since I ran you out of that basin.”

You didn’t have a good argument for this other than that your back was killing you and you had to relieve yourself. You looked to the lake and had an idea.

“Because I…need a wash.”

He did laugh this time. “You want me to go find a tub while I’m at it, draw you a bath? I ain’t your caretaker. You can sit there and rot for three days for all I care.”

“Please.” You tried your hardest to be sincere in the word.

He regarded your for all of a heartbeat before that snide smile overtook his face. “How’s that taste?”

“Please. I need to relieve myself, and I feel like my muscles are about to snap any second.”

“What did I just say? You’ll have to deal with it. Besides, I ain’t falling for that crap.”

“It’s not crap,” you said, your anger surprising you. You hadn’t felt it take over like this in years.

He nodded, holding your eye as he kept that infuriating smile plastered on his face. “Sure.”

You didn’t have it in you to answer him. To take that bait only for him to deny you again. So you sat instead, taking a long breath and looking out at the lake. The water was probably freezing anyway. And while it would be good means for escape, it would also be good means to get shot. Or drown.

“You know what?” he asked, following your gaze and looking out over the water. “That ain’t such a bad idea. I reckon I’ll have a wash myself.”

You shot him a nasty look, the man radiating pure smugness as he reached for his boot. You watched, unbelieving you had been caught by such an ignorant, arrogant bastard of a man. He stripped his boots, his gear, his coat. All in clear view of you, all while knowing just how much it got under your skin to do so. He took his shirt and pants off too, left in only a union suit that he started to unbutton when he caught your eye.

You realized you’d been watching his hands unbutton the thin fabric and snapped your gaze to his face instead, pure hatred spilling from you.

“It’s okay to look,” he teased. “Probably the most entertainment you’ll get out this way.”

“You’re so full of yourself. It’s embarrassing.”

“Oh, I ain’t got nothing to be embarrassed about sweetheart,” he said as he pulled the union suit from his shoulders. You were about to call him on the nickname until you saw those damned arms of his, how broad-chested he was. He was sculpted in muscle, beautiful bodied, and it only made you madder. It would be so much easier to stand this, to laugh in his face, if he was ugly and marred under all that clothing. But now you could only grit your teeth and look away as he pulled his remaining clothing off.

“Have it your way,” he said on a laugh, the sound of him wading into the water soon reaching you. You knew the lake was as cold as you had guessed when he winced and slowed his progress, his steps further and further apart. After long enough, you finally heard splashing and turned to see him working the lake water over his shoulders, washing the grit from his skin. You let out an annoyed huff of breath and turned away, shifting your body so that your back was to him, trying to swallow your anger and come up with a better plan than this.

For the first time in your life, you were drawing a blank on what to do. Most bounty hunters weren’t as smart, weren’t as stubborn, and didn’t have the resources to keep you tied up so well for so long. You needed to get free if you were going to best this man, and he wasn’t budging on that subject. The only outlet you had was convincing him that his gang members were right and he was wrong for capturing you. But even with that, he seemed to bury his head in the sand and ignore what was right in front of him. Maybe if you made him feel guilty over it, you could get through to him better. Even if it meant giving up in a sense. You decided that was the only way and that you would have to risk the dangers of the lake. As far as strategy went, it was your best option. You just prayed luck would turn in your favor once more, lest you wind up with a hole in your head courtesy of the man at your back.

After a short while, you heard Arthur walk out of the lake and toward you to dress.

“Water’s nice. You should try it.”

You turned and shot him a nasty look only to see that he had barely gotten his union suit back over his hips. What little fabric covered him didn’t leave much to the imagination. And he was annoyingly well endowed. Damn him.

“Careful. You let that mouth of yours go any slacker, you’ll start catching flies.”

You clamped your mouth shut and composed yourself, trying hard to focus on your plan and keep from arguing with him. That was all he wanted. He wanted you to ease his guilt. He wanted you to be defiant enough to make him think he was doing the right thing. No longer.

You let out a long sigh, giving him a minute so that you were sure he was somewhat dressed when you turned to him.

“Why didn’t you kill me? Back in Blackwater?”

His face set with a flat look you couldn’t figure a meaning for. He took a moment to answer, halfway through buttoning his shirt when he spoke. “I considered it.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I only kill people I see as threats.” You thought back to the only time he had shot at you—after you had nearly escaped him back in that canyon.

“So I wasn’t threatening enough for you?”

He smirked. “Threatening, no. Annoying as all hell maybe. But you were hopping away unarmed, still bound up in all that rope, knowing you wouldn’t get anywhere. Why would I kill you when I could catch you just as quick and save myself the bother?”

“Because you said you would.”

This seemed to have the effect you wanted, as he finished with his shirt before responding, frowning all the while. “You wanted me to kill you then? That’s why you did it?”

“No.” The truth was, you hadn’t been thinking at all at the time. He had been marching you straight to your death, and your panic had set in so deep you did the only thing you could do, no matter how futile. You debated keeping this to yourself then remembered what you had to do to get through to him. “You ever…been so scared you would die you’d do anything to get out of it?” You met his eye, and by the way his gaze faltered, you knew you’d hit your mark.

You didn’t expect him to answer, but his voice rose quietly. “Sure.”

You chose your next words carefully. “I had to try. I…want to live.”

To your disappointment, that goddamn smirk overtook his face. “Should have thought of that before you killed all those people. And blew up someone meaner than you, that was your worst mistake.”

You wanted to argue that he wasn’t meaner than you or he would have killed you already. If your roles were reversed, you certainly would have killed him by now. Him and that smart mouth. But you didn’t say this, taking a different course.

“You think I killed those people for fun? I been running for nigh on two years now, all because a well-respected family tried to pin something on me I didn’t do, destroyed my good name, and told everyone around to shoot me on sight. Only I wouldn’t go down so easy. I spent an entire year trying to clear my name, to no avail, and ever since they’ve sent one bounty hunter after another after me. That’s what raised my bounty so high. They just want me silenced now, want me to go away.”

To your surprise, Arthur’s eyebrows raised slightly. “Seems you and me got that in common.”

He held your eye a heartbeat too long. It took everything in you not to smile in triumph, to hold his gaze with a hard look of your own instead. You were finally getting somewhere.

“Anyway,” he said, waving the moment away like it was nothing. He picked up his gun belt and fastened it, brought his satchel around him. “I’m gonna go find something to eat. Don’t wait up.”

You scoffed, feeling your shoulders slump on their own accord.

Arthur made for his horse and pulled a gun out of his scabbard that you recognized. “Hey!”

He turned to you with a grin. “What, you like it?” He was holding your rifle in his hands, the tic marks you had carved into its side plain as day from where you sat. “I usually don’t take a man’s gun until after he’s dead, but I like this one too much to wait that long.”

You hated him then. More than anything. You despised him for the way he talked about handing you over to your own death like it was nothing. You vowed then and there if you got free, you would kill him. Brutally.

You didn’t give Arthur the satisfaction of some lightweight insult and instead stayed quiet as he retreated into the nearby woods with a grim laugh, your eyes following him all the while. When he was out of your line of sight, you tried again to free yourself. This time, you sawed the ropes at your wrists against the one tied to the stake, back and forth, hoping they would tear themselves apart with the friction. After what had to be five minutes of doing this, you gave up. He had tied you up so tightly there wasn’t room enough to move the ropes against each other properly. You stilled and decided to save your energy. You would need it if your last resort came to fruition.

Not long after, Arthur approached from the bank to your left with a beaver hanging over his shoulder. You knew your rifle was too powerful for such an animal but kept your mouth firmly shut about it.

“Soup’s on,” he said, throwing the beaver at your feet. He returned your gun to his saddle then proceeded to skin the animal, setting some of the meat to cook above the fire. Your mouth watered at the sound of it sizzling. But again, you didn’t say anything as he worked. And you remained quiet until finally, he shocked you by walking to your back and cutting clean through the rope at your hands.

“Since you seemed to remember your manners,” he taunted, circling you. “Plus, I ain’t feeding you again. You can get it yourself. Oh, and you try anything, and I put a bullet through you. That ain’t a threat, it’s a promise. You clear on that?”

You nodded, rubbing the skin at your wrists, bending forward so your back got a break from sitting straight so long. You ate your fill and savored every bite, not having had anything as good for days. You considered escape all the while. If you found a way to incapacitate Arthur long enough, you could cut through the rope at your feet with the knife at his hip. You would kill him with it too. You had to now—it was an urge not only formed from hatred but from knowing he would pursue you to the ends of the earth if you didn’t. You wondered whether his precious gang would come after you for killing one of their own. They certainly seemed close enough to hold that sort of a grudge. You shook the thought away when Arthur tossed you a canteen, like he would pull the words right from your mind if you didn��t stop thinking about them. You looked to him in question.

“I won’t offer again,” he said, nodding to the canteen. You hadn’t seen him drink from it and were somewhat suspicious of it but raised it to your lips anyway. If he wanted to poison you after all this time, he was an even bigger fool than you thought.

When the water hit your tongue, you nearly moaned. It was the only thing you had had to quench your thirst besides Charles’ kindness back in that camp, and your mouth was dry as a bone because of it. You chugged it down, nearly draining the whole thing before Arthur said, “Easy,” and came and snatched the canteen out of your hands. You shot him daggers for it but again didn’t speak. He chuckled. “Don’t take much to make a person compliant, you know.” He walked around the fire to face you, his hand resting on the gun at his hip as he drank. “For some, it’s water. Or food. But for you, it seems to be hope.” Your gaze narrowed. “I control your hope, I control you. Whatever’s left of it.”

He wasn’t wrong. And it scared you he had read you so well. It wasn’t hard to guess at, but if he knew you still had some kind of hope left, then he knew you were still planning to get out of this. And that lowered your chances of doing so significantly.

“Tell you what,” he said, taking his gun out of its holster and tossing the canteen to his feet, the thing giving an empty clunking sound when it hit the dirt. “I’ve decided to be kind today. I can at least give you one last good day.” He made sure his gun was loaded, spinning the cylinder and clicking it back into place. “We can play a little game of sorts while we’re at it.” He leveled you with a satisfied smirk, waiting for you to ask him about his grand idea.

You sighed in annoyance. “What game?”

“I’ll let you go for a swim if you want. But the second you go under, I start shooting. And I gotta warn you, I don’t miss.” His smirk had turned into a flash of teeth, his grin making you madder than the game he proposed. There went your last chance at escape. You were a strong swimmer and may have still stood a chance, but was that something you wanted to risk? “What do you say?”

Your eyes met his and you nodded. “Sure. But no games. I just want a wash, that’s it.”

He shrugged. “Have it your way. But I would have preferred the challenge.”

You rolled your eyes and put your hands on the ground, pushing yourself up. You looked to him, expecting him to cut the rope at your feet. He just nodded toward the lake, neglecting to do anything of the sort. You refrained from saying the cutting words on your tongue and shuffled your feet, making slow progress toward the lakeshore. To your annoyance, Arthur followed. Once you got to the water and debated whether to shed any of your clothes or not, he rounded you.

“I ain’t taking no chances with you,” he said, making a show of holstering his gun but leaving it visible. He then reached for the lapels of your coat.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you said, leaning back.

He met your eyes, and instead of anger, you found a knowing satisfaction lingering in his gaze. “You want to freeze to death when night falls because you were too stubborn to shed your clothes?”

“It ain’t about the clothes,” you snapped. “It’s about you taking them off.”

He smiled then. “Well in that case, I’m definitely doing it.”

He reached for you once more and you smacked his hand away. For the life of you, you couldn’t understand why that made his smile grow wider. Quicker than you could stop him, he moved to your back and trapped your arms against your sides by wrapping his own around you. “I’ll tie you up again and let you drown out there, mark my words.” When you relaxed enough to show that, as much as you hated him for it, you would let him get this over with so that you could keep your hands free and get in the lake already, he slowly released you. “Good girl,” he purred in your ear. You debated rounding and punching him straight in the nose for it. But you held your temper down for the hundredth time and let him be.

He brought his hands to your coat, slowly pulling it away, and something about the feeling made you snap. You could barely shift your weight to do something about it before he had his hand around your throat and trapped you against his chest, speaking lowly in your ear. “Behave.”

You hated yourself for it, but you fought off a shiver at the word. Something about his voice, the demanding way he said it, the feel of his strong chest at your back…you didn’t want to admit what it did to you. Didn’t even want to think about it. You stood stock still and let the feeling pass instead, waiting for him to let go of you. He reluctantly did so and went back to undressing you without a word—something you thought was odd, considering it was the perfect moment to say something stupid like he normally did. But you didn’t linger on that thought for long, as the feeling of needing to get out from under his hands took hold once more. You fought it and let him be, solely for the fact that you needed to get in the lake and make up your mind about whether or not to run.

Arthur pulled your coat from your arms, rounded you and unbuttoned your shirt. He untucked it, meeting your eye with an annoying smugness when the action pulled your hips toward him.

“Can you move quicker than this?” you snapped.

“Am I bothering you?”

“Always,” you said under your breath, but he caught it.

“You better think about being kinder to me. I don’t have to allow any of this, you know.”

“Oh how terrible it must be,” you said flatly. “To have to submit yourself to undressing a woman. I’m just putting you out, aren’t I?”

“Really, you are. I’m being awful lenient toward someone I plan on seeing swing in a few days.”

At the mention of that, you clamped your mouth shut once more. Your anger got the better of you, and you decided then and there to wait for a better opportunity to escape so that you could take him down in the process. You considered slapping him silly too, but you needed to keep your hands free. You fought down the urge.

Arthur chuckled as he unsheathed his knife, waving it at you. “You try anything, and I gut you.”

You looked away from him, toward the lake instead as he crouched and cut the rope at your feet. The need to kick him in the face was so hard to tamp down on that you clenched your fists to have something to do with all that restless energy. Arthur moved to the buttons on your pants before pulling them down your legs slowly, purposely trying to get a rise out of you. It took everything in you not to give in, in violence or in words.

He finally stepped away and looked at you with a surprising amount of anger. You didn’t know what that look was for but didn’t care.

“You do the rest,” he said, pulling his gun out again.

You understood then—he wasn’t going to pull your boots off your feet like some groveling maid. That would be bordering on selfless, something that was beneath him. You rolled your eyes and took your boots off, leaving behind nothing but your chemise and a jittery anticipation for the cold bite of the water.

He should not have done this. He had made a grave mistake. Arthur was already warring with himself over whether or not you deserved to live, and this only made things ten times worse. He had been letting you swim over his own indecision, then undressing you to get under your skin, but it had had the opposite effect. He had pulled you into him earlier meaning to threaten you but found that he couldn’t get the words out, the only thing coming to him a demand to behave while trying desperately to hide what his voice was betraying. And now, he could barely get your clothes off of you before needing to step away, making you finish the job because he couldn’t take his mind off of his hands on your body. What the hell was wrong with him?

He circled back around to the fire, needing to clear his head and get his eyes off of you for a moment. It was a ridiculously foolish thing to do considering he had cut you loose, but he couldn’t help it. He would do something much more foolish if he didn’t.

He walked to the far side of the fire so that he faced the lake but didn’t look up as he heard you begin to wade into the water. Why was he acting this way? He knew he couldn’t let go of the disagreements of the gang concerning you, but it was more than that. It was the thought that after all you had told him about your past, you weren’t much different than him. In fact, you probably deserved a killing even less than he did. You would have fit right in with his gang except that you probably wouldn’t have even agreed to that, being too righteous to do such a thing. So not only were you innocent and scorned, but he was holding a good person hostage, playing right into the hand of the very people he had been brought up to hate. Where did that leave him?

He knew the obvious answer was to let you go, and he was seriously considering it. But all his pitiful attempts at riling you—not to mention the harsh way he had treated you the past few days—would be enough to anger anyone to violence. Especially someone as deadly as you. So if he did let you go, would you try to kill him for it? He wouldn’t hesitate to defend himself if you did and would be willing to bet you’d wind up dead at his hand. Then he would feel even more guilt over going after you at all. Maybe he could threaten you into leaving, acting angry enough for you to think you got off easy and take the rare opportunity. In fact, that was beginning to look like his best option when Arthur heard a splash of water loud enough to make him snap to attention.

Instead of trying to escape, you were doing just as he said to do—standing belly deep in the water and washing, nothing more. What’s worse, you had stripped your chemise off too, and he watched your bare back a moment too long before looking away in shame. He couldn’t tell if his sudden attraction to you was formed from guilt or from the realization that you weren’t much different from any of the women he ran with. You were better, actually. And he stamped down on that thought quickly, so as not to cloud his judgement further.

He let you stay in the water as long as you wanted, looking up occasionally to make sure you hadn’t tried to run, not knowing what he would do if you did. He finally decided he would make his decision about what to do with you tomorrow, trying his best to keep up the same threatening act he’d used on you so far to keep you from noticing he was at war with himself over it. That made him calm some, and he took a long breath and vowed to make the rest of the day a boring, eventless one so that he wouldn’t have to think about the mistakes he had made concerning you for another second.

Arthur soon realized he had a problem—you were naked, and you would have to walk back out of that lake straight at him. He knew in order for you not to notice anything was amiss, he had to act smug about it. He had to look you over with a grin and pretend like his heart wasn’t racing when he did. He hoped with all his might that he could do so convincingly. He didn’t have it in him to argue if you called his bluff. Not with all the guilt flooding him.

Soon enough, he did exactly as he should have, sporting a lazy grin when you began walking out of the water. He never took his eyes off of you, partially to convince you, mainly because he couldn’t. You were such a sight that his breath caught. He wished then he had never let you get in that lake—he wouldn’t be able to erase the memory of you all bare for the rest of his days.

He cleared his throat before speaking to make sure his voice didn’t shoot too low. “You gonna tie yourself back up for me or make me do it?”

You shot him a nasty look, beginning to redress. He watched your every movement as you did, gripping the gun still in his hand so tightly it hurt.

“I…thanks, I guess,” you said softly, but he didn’t miss the hatred in your voice.

Once you had your chemise back on and he could breathe properly, he spoke. “I didn’t know any better, and I’d think you’re trying to butter me up.” He stepped around the fire toward you. “To appeal to my…better nature.”

“I know better than that,” you spat. “You don’t have one of those.”

He chuckled. “Maybe not.” There was more truth to that statement than you could ever know.

Once you were fully dressed, you glared at him and stood stock still, leaving the cut up ropes at your feet. He got the message and kept his gun at his side as he approached, making you eye the weapon. Little did you know, he didn’t have it in him to hurt you with it. Not anymore.

He fished more rope out of his satchel and stepped behind you, tying your hands first. He was shocked you let him do it without a fight and was reminded of your silence when he had taken you from camp. Like you wanted him to do it, like you had bigger plans of your own. He had the feeling you were constantly weighing his every move, deciding what would benefit you best in an attempt to escape. He was thinking again that you were smarter than he cared for when he finished with the ropes and stepped away. You hobbled over and sat by the fire without a word, refusing to look at him. That was all right by him—he didn’t have to think about you quite so much if you weren’t nagging him like you usually did.

The rest of the day passed achingly slowly, and Arthur debated tying you to something and getting away for a while. He didn’t though, not wanting to risk you escaping and sneaking up on him. If it weren’t for the threat you posed, he would have gladly done it and prayed you were gone when he returned, nothing but a pile of empty ropes. It would certainly be easier on him.

He fed you again in the afternoon, warring with himself over doing so. You had eyed him with suspicion, and he knew it was only a matter of time before you called him out on treating you with such mercy. To keep you from doing just that, he tied you to a nearby tree when darkness fell, retreating to his tent without a word as you spat insult after insult at him for leaving you out in the cold. It was noticeably colder than the night before, and he figured it would send the message that nothing was amiss better than anything. You had a coat besides. You would be fine until he figured out what to do with you when morning came.

Arthur drifted off in the early evening and was awoken hours later by wind so strong it made the trees shake around him. He stuck his head out of the tent to see you sitting where he left you, still awake.

“It’ll rain soon,” you shouted over the roar of the wind. “Gonna make me sleep out here in it?”

It was all he could do not to answer you, or worse, to give in. He gritted his teeth and cursed himself as he closed his tent once more, inside and away from the weather, knowing he was damning himself every second he ignored you. So be it. He still had hours until he needed to make a decision.

The bastard had shut you out. You felt the first few raindrops fall cold and thick, their impact with your skin making you shiver. One slid down your back and made you pull at your ropes to change positions, not wanting to feel that iciness again. Then, like that had only been a taste, the heavens seemed to open up, the giant maw of the sky pouring freezing rain down so thick you started to shake uncontrollably. You reined in your tears, knowing how unhelpful that would be.

To your complete surprise, not even a minute had passed when you saw a flash of canvas—Arthur had stepped out of his tent and was marching toward you. Without a word, he rounded the tree and cut you away from it, not untying you but picking you up in his arms. He carried you to his tent, your mouth shut in total shock at his act. It was possible he only did it to keep you from freezing to death, but you couldn’t deny it seemed somewhat caring.

He ducked in and set you on the far left, leaving you tied as he laid down against the opposite wall, turning his back to you. That wasn’t very smart of him, but you were thankful besides. The tent wasn’t exactly warm, and water still dripped in in some places, but it was much better than sitting outside in the rain. The constant downpour was so loud it was even a bit relaxing now. You debated thanking him but didn’t, thinking that may be pushing your luck. You did, however, turn to look at the gun belt he wore. His blade and gun were missing, probably on his other side. You cursed your lot and turned back over, mad at him all over again. It didn’t make any sense. Why was he taking such care to keep you alive only to have you killed in three days time? Why was he suddenly setting you free to wash, feeding you, letting you sleep in his tent? The answer to that hit you like a train—all this wordless kindness started when you had taken your clothes off. There was only one logical explanation for that: this man wanted you. He was lying as far away as he could so as not to touch your rain-soaked body. He probably hated himself for it too, telling himself this would all be over soon, that the temptation would pass when he turned you in. But still, there was enough feeling there for him to drag you in here in the first place. That, you could work with.

You fumbled with your tied feet and got them under you enough to turn over, facing him. You scooted closer until you touched him, your body lined against his, making him flinch.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m freezing. You’re warm.”

“Get off of me before I throw you back outside. You’re wet.”

You nuzzled into him tighter, curling into his back, wondering if you could make him give in.

“Quit,” he snarled, sitting up. He shoved you away and took the bedroll out from under you, throwing it over you before laying back down with his back turned once more. Again, caring. But not enough to free you, not enough to convince him that what he was doing was wrong.

You evaded sleep and came up with a better plan, knowing you had hours to enact such a thing and the perfect setup—close quarters. You smiled. You would have him cutting through your bounds in no time.

_________

Part four is here.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 arthur morgan #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #fanfic #writing

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httpknjoon · 1 year

Note

Question for the A-listers

What would you say is the cost of fame? What makes it worth it?

What's been the hardest moment for you?

note | thank you for sending these amazing questions! 🤍

main masterlist | drabble series

"First thing that came up to mind is privacy," Jin replied, scratching the back of his neck. "I mean, I know that it's part of my job as a public figure. But I still find it hard to think there are some people who feel entitled to know all the stuff connected to me."

"It's honestly unbelievable how these people managed to go into a deep dive about my personal life. Impressive and creepy at the same time. But the fact that I get to do my passion and have supporters at the same time makes it worth it." he concluded.

You, on the other hand, replied:

"The cost of fame for me is... I don't have control over how everyone will perceive me." you looked straight at the camera. "Every new person I'll meet probably already has a first impression of me, you know?"

"And it felt unfair. Especially when that impression was formed because of how the media painted me in their articles and tabloids. When I was younger, I was described as wild or reckless. But in my perspective, I was just doing what other teenagers do. I was just unlucky that almost everything I did when I was a teen will be posted in a magazine." you laughed.

"But I think the only silver lining for me after that false news is I get to surprise people. And I get to surpass whatever expectations they had of me, particularly when I was younger. Gladly, now, I don't feel the need of correcting whatever ideals people had about me."

For the second question, you answered,

"My hardest times always have to do with the press. When I went through any events of my life, the paparazzi were always there, having their field day. I was barely fifteen when I get finally emancipated from my dad. I hated that it received so much attention and a lot of people had a lot to say about it as if they knew what was our relationship. When I was nineteen, I dated this guy and it didn't end well. He publicly accused me of something and of course, the public ate it up and gave him the satisfaction and attention he wanted."

You tried not to roll your eyes as your mind recalled those memories in your head. But you ended up letting out a big, heavy sigh. However, Jin has his own answer:

"My hardest moment as an actor is maybe when I was still adjusting to fame. Ever since I was born, my parents managed to put me away from the paparazzi until I decided to turn to an actor myself. They said that it's better since it allows me to live normally and safely, which is true. It gave me an idea of what Hollywood is. At the same time, they didn't prepare me for how hard it is to navigate life again with cameras and eyes on you."

He resumed, "After I had success with my first feature film before, I was very uncomfortable and shocked when I spotted someone taking pictures of me when I was just eating in this small diner I often went to. I didn't know how to deal with it and I was admittedly scared so I tried to finish my food faster and left."

taglist rules

THE A-LISTERS TAGLIST

@seolaquotes @jub-jub @yoontaethings @kissme-ornot @sleepy-daydreams @veronawrites @cuteipat @ratherbefangirling @babystarcandy-gcf @akirawhore @alpacaparkaseok @rjsmochii @lovesickbangtan @rapmonie2047 @btsiguess-kpop @angelarin @walkinganxiety0 @bloopkook @yoooonie @amara-mars @firesighgirl @zwiehe @hiii-priestess @lojocas @juju-227592 @singukieee @eshtravagent @canarystwin

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @miyukihoshi @stopeatread

#mai answers #the a listers:ask #the a listers ksj #actor!jin #bts jin #jin fluff #jin x reader #jin au #seokjin x reader #seokjin fanfiction #seokjin fluff #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts crack #bts series #bts au #bts fanfic #bts drabble

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aquil-writes · 1 year

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WIP Song Tag

I finally did the Thing @hbxplain and @vsnotresponding! Thanks for the tags!

This was unbelievably hard. It's been too long since I was in the pro. 6 headspace and I had to dig up a lot of playlists but it happened.

Bambi by Hippo Campus

I’d throw a line here but it’s just the whole song. This song inspired Ryker’s character development more than I’d like to admit lol. But at the heart of it, of all of the characters in pro. 6, Ryker has the most power. He’s the best at his magic, the best in weaponless combat, the best at surviving, traveling, getting along with people. The last thing he wants to do, really, is fight, but that’s all he seems to end up doing.

2. Tiny umbrella by Coast Modern

If I’m holding on too tightly / I might never come back

I know it’s not your fault / but it’s never not something with you

This one’s for Ryker again. He goes through something of a villain arc during the story, and gets more power than he really knows what to do with. This song is his bonafide Villain Era™

(and the second line, about blaming someone else, is about him blaming the antagonist as much as the other MC, Maple)

3. Going Down- Coast Modern

No, not today I won’t be brought down / I didn’t come this far just to lose you now

Maple spends a lot of the story fighting for her place in it. She doesn’t have magic like her friends, she’s not a trained fighter, and damningly she's not very knowledgable about magic. But she cares about her goal and the people who’ve supported her until now- especially Ryker, who’s now fully in the clutches of the enemy.

4. Sky is A Bed- the Humble Cheaters

The sky is a bed for my sleep / And I don’t care

Maple and Ryker go through so much! There’s so much danger, and responsibility, and failure, and at the end of the day they could have it all– but power isn’t what they’re about.

And I like this song in particular a lot, because a lot of lines in it could apply to a bunch of different parts/ characters in the story, the first line is just what hits me the hardest. Some others:

And don’t you know / that I’m only trying to make it home

Ryker spends a lot of the story homesick. His whole motivation for ever starting his journey was to find a way to undo his exile and get home again.

Call it what you want / I will not judge / anything you say / I’m too far gone / to pretend to care

This verse is for Kalis, the antagonist. He’s a focused man and makes it clear that he’ll succeed no matter the cost; but this line also fits Ryker, for Villain Arc reasons.

5. Lake by JANEE

This one’s not pro. 6, but the main song that inspired my oldest forever WIP, project 2. The anniversary for this one is coming up soon (december 26th) so I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately :)

I’m not sure why this song specifically, but something about the fantasy vibes it gives off was enough fuel for me to listen to it on repeat for like 4 hours as I typed like 10+ solid pages of it. Still a proud moment.

and I don't have a real taglist yet but tagging @writingsbyelle for the project 6 lore!

#wip song tag game #tag game #thanks for the tag!!#project 6

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tunglo · 2 years

Text

Last Jedi: Dark Warning

Some quotes from the the second Last of the Jedi book by Jude Watson - AKA ‘the extended tales of how everything would have been fine if people had just listened to Ferus’...

Ferus took over the controls. He wondered about his own experience. For the past few years he'd been living quietly on Bellassa, trying to put his Jedi past behind him. The decision to leave had been the hardest one he'd ever made, and it had haunted him every day and every night. He'd let his rival, Anakin Skywalker, push him into leaving. He'd left behind a life of missions and meaning for... isolation. He and his friend Roan had lived quietly - until the rise of the Empire had turned them into Rebels. Ferus had found his cause once more. And he had vowed to stick to it this time, until the Empire was defeated. Roan was lost now, Bellassa a new part of his past. Once more, Ferus found himself on the path of a Jedi - but unsure whether it was a path he was allowed to take.

"I know that. I've been through them. I know there are things I've forgotten, but I can't wait until I've relearned everything again. Do you really think we can afford to wait? Perhaps Jedi caution is what paved the way for their destruction."

The accusation stung, but hadn't Obi-Wan thought the very same thing? His own caution... it had paved the way for Anakin Skywalker to turn into Darth Vader. He had felt uneasy about his Padawan, but he had never imagined how corrupted he could become. As a Padawan, Ferus had seen something dangerous in Anakin. But Obi-Wan had not done anything about it.

Now he must learn from his mistakes. It was time to be bold.

He walked on, deeper into the cave. Now the walls grew irregular with the chunky crystals that were embedded in the rock. Ferus knew that it would not help him to study the crystals, to find the most beautiful. He must allow the crystals to call to him. If the Force was strong in him, the crystals he needed would speak to him among the thousands that lay around him. Wait. The right ones will appear. He felt awed, being in this spot. Suddenly it came over him, the fact that he was here. Whether he liked it or not, he was on the Jedi path again.

"Unbelievable."

It was Anakin Skywalker. For a moment, Ferus thought it was really him. He seemed so solid, so real. Then he realized that Anakin was young, probably about sixteen, the age they were when Ferus had left the Jedi.

"It's so like you," Anakin said, "to think that you're the only one who can do something. That ego of yours. No wonder nobody ever liked you."

Ferus waited. He knew this was an image, that he couldn't fight it, couldn't argue with it. And he'd long ago come to terms with what Anakin thought of him. This wasn't anything he hadn't heard before.

"Your jealousy destroyed your future," Anakin said. "You tried to destroy mine, and that didn't work, so you quit."

"You knew Tru's lightsaber was faulty," Ferus said. He couldn't help it. The words had been bottled up for so many years. Ferus and Anakin had both put their friend Tru at risk - and even though Ferus hadn't meant to, he'd accepted the blame. "You were jealous of our friendship, so you said nothing. You hoped we'd get in trouble with the Council. And we did. You knew we wouldn't step forward and tell the truth about you. And we didn't. So you kept your silence, and your place in the Jedi, and you let me walk away from it all."

Anakin shrugged. "Is that your version'?"

"It's the truth. And the funny thing is that it was the best thing that happened to me. I found myself."

"Right," Anakin said. "So I hear. Yet I found myself, too."

Suddenly the crystals dimmed. Ferus couldn't see the walls of the cave any longer. A wind moved through the cave. Wind? Ferus thought. Where is the wind coming from? He felt the coldness of fear enter him. You think you know what fear is? The whispers began. Evil was in the cave. He knew it by the icy hand that clutched his heart, by how the strength drained out of his legs. Had he blundered? Had the dark side of the Force taken over the cave?

Out of the darkness a shadow grew. It was a thing, not a person. A shadow filled with cruel pain. Then the shadow formed and re-formed, and he saw it was a figure. A dark helmet and cape. Breath entered the cave. A harsh, artificial sound. He heard the indrawn breath, the exhale. It was as though the creature breathed in the darkness and breathed it out.

Darth Vader.

#star wars #obikin #ferus olin

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hqmillioncorn · 2 years

Photo

FFxivWrite: Day twenty.......Anon!

‘Better lucky than good!’

on a sunny day in ul dah two lalafells are on the run for their life and decide then and there (or sometime after) that they cant keep dodging death forever its time to be smarter about some things

“That probably couldn’t have gone ANY worse.”

Aleria pulled on the stray arrow that had gotten tangled up in her hair during the escape. It didn’t even make any sense, the archery guild was malms away! What was an archer doing here? Then again she was working side by side with a conjurer right now. So the odds were definitely higher than zero.

“I think it went well!” Lalatov raised his wand and brought it down to cast another cure spell on Aleria. Lalatov has learned by now that it wasn’t tge smartest choice for him to be in the front line of the battle, so it was Aleria who took the front, even while they were retreating. Out of the two she was the one who had taken the most blows.

Though that didn’t really mean she was hurt, there really was no chance of that happening with Lalatov casting a healing spell on her every few seconds. Aleria just happened to trip and someone got a good hit on her. Then she got a lot of good hits on that particular offender.

“What part of that would you classify as going well?”

“I-I mean the part where you sliced that guy was pretty cool…” Lalatov nervously looked away. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous to say that. There was absolutely nothing wrong with him thinking that his new companion he was traveling with looked really cute when she was almost slicing someone in two and also how his vision was concentrated solely on keeping her safe from anything that would try and hurt her.

He was sooooo normal.

“We’re also still alive! And the other guys aren’t! That’s a plus!”

“That’s a good point…” Aleria couldn’t help but to agree. She had to look away, Lalatov was doing his dumb little smile again. Whenever he did that, Aleria swore that actual sparkles and light radiated from his face. There was something deeply wrong with this guy.

Adding to that last thought, who in their right mind just walks up to some of the most influential people in Ul’dah and introduces himself with his full name and background?

“I had to make sure people knew who I was!”

“It never occurred to you that there was a bad reason your parents never wanted to come back to Ul’dah?”

“Not really!”

It was unbelievable.

Though at this point he was really starting to consider it. Even Aleria could tell that he was slowly losing his faith.

She wiped the last of the dirt off of her scythe and sighed. “We’re going to have to come up with some fake identities then.” Aleria was no secret to faking her identity, she’d been doing it since she fourteen after her escape with Meriala. She had a handful of them she used but it was always hard to come up with a brand new one.

“It can’t be any that we used before…” That was always the hardest part.

“Huh?” Lalatov looked around, confused. “What do you mean?”

“You know, like the fake names you tell people you’re called so they won’t be able to track you down again…” Aleria’s voice trailed off into silence when she noticed just how bewildered Lalatov looked. He was still wearing the same dopey looking smile on his face. It didn’t take a lot of work for Aleria to figure out why he looked so confused.

“Are you telling me you traveled all the way from Gridania to Ul’dah telling everyone you met your actual name?!”

“Everyone was really nice! Don’t worry, I don't think any of them would come back to kill me!”

“You don’t tell random people your actual name when you’re on the run!”

“But when we met you told me your actual name!”

Aleria was caught off guard. For just a moment. “T-That’s not the point!” It’s because I trusted you. “You told me you ran away from home, so don’t you think that if anyone is out there looking for you they’re going to find you easily! That’s why you use a fake name!”

How had he even gotten this far with that kind of planning?!

“Oh. I see, that makes sense.” Lalatov nodded in understanding. “Then let’s make up some fake names!” Lalatov grabbed a chair from the corner and sat down to think.

He accepted that way too quickly.

“What about Corn?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, millioncorn is my favorite vegetable! So it was the first thing I thought of!” Important to mention that Lalatov had skipped breakfast that day in favor of visiting Ul’dah early.

As much as Aleria wanted to say ‘Omg! That’s my favorite vegetable too!’ she needed to address the obvious first. “Are…you serious?” The chances of someone actually being named after a vegetable were slim to none. Corn was half of the name of a vegetable that she knew grew around here! Which made it…

“The perfect fake identity!” Lalatov shouted unprompted.

Aleria’s opinion was mostly on the side of ‘a name based on corn sounded so out there that obviously someone would remember them and be able to track them down.’ but considering how little experience Lalatov had in doing this she had to admit, it was impressive he managed to come up with one at all.

Not to mention that one of her names had been ‘Raspberryl’ so she had no room to talk.

“We can make it work.” Aleria then collapsed back onto the bed she’d been sitting on and let out a groan. Today’s excitement had finally caught up to her and she was tired. “You’re going to have to stop calling yourself a Marrigold though.”

Lalatov ran over to her side, worried that Aleria was still hurt. Was there something he hadn’t been able to heal away? After being told that she was just tired he figured it was safe to whine. “Aww…But that’s my family's name…”

“Hey, it wasn’t my family name that almost got us killed.”

“Good point…” Lalatov pouted. Aleria knew more about this kind of thing anyway, so it was probably a good idea to listen to her advice. “Alright! I’ll go brainstorm new secret identities while you rest! Oh! And I’ll also get us something to eat! I bet Meeth is already working on something…”

While Aleria mostly kept to herself (and Lalatov), Lalatov had gone out and made connections with the locals that lived in Camp Drybone. Sometimes she decided to go with him but being around so many people tired her out too quickly. It was better for him to go by himself.

Even if she really really wanted to go with him.

Just as Lalatov was getting his things ready to go Aleria noticed that he was keeping his wand strapped to his hip. If he was just simply going into town to buy lunch he didn’t really need to take that with him. The road from their little shelter to Drybone was pretty much a straight road with nothing in the way.

Now that she thought about it, she’d never really seen him without it.

“By the way-I’ve been wondering…”

“Hmm?”

Aleria pointed at his wand and he Lalatov looked down at it, but not before he spun around in a circle trying to see what she was pointing at. Until he stopped and picked up his wand.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without it-is it like a good luck charm or something?” Even Aleria needed to put away her scythe every once in a while. Then again there was a difference between a metal scythe and what was essentially a stick.

“Oh! This little thing?” Lalatov took the wand from his hip and held it up with a smile. “My parents gave it to me! It’s a special wand with a seal that suppresses my innate magical abilities. And if the wand ever breaks the seal would be broken and I would turn into a dragon! Since my mom did some wild stuff when she was younger!”

“HUH??????”

“Anyways, I’ll see you later!”

Lalatov turned and left quicker than Aleria could collect her thoughts. He left her to try and make any sense of what he just told her. Obviously none of that stuff he told her could be real, right? He had snickered to himself just before he left, that must have been a sign he was just joking.

“Who jokes about stuff like that?”

This guy was really really unbelievable.

What was wrong with him???

———————————–

“Aleria and Lalatov?! Are you serious?!”

“I’m serious!” Tilika fell back onto the couch, “Those were your parents names before they decided to call themselves Elelote and Cocorn. I have to admit-I never would have thought about corn themed names to hide from people trying to kill you.” Tilika’s mom, Meriala, didn’t even hide her name. She was sure that her mom probably would have gotten a kick from Aleria’s name.

“I guess that’s why we never went out then…” Babycorn could even count the times she ventured away from her home on her hand. The number was probably low enough that even Cherrypit could count them.

“I guess you could say you’re following in their corn-shaped footsteps.”

“Huh?”

“Well they went by Elelote and Cocorn to everyone right? And now practically everyone in Eorzea knows you as Babycorn. And Cherrypit.” Tilika was one of the few people that knew that the Starsinger siblings' names were actually Chelinka and Yuri. Both names were given to them by their mother.

“...I guess so.”

“I think they would’ve been proud!”

Who would have guessed?

#ffxivwrite2022 #here they are lalatov and aleria..........#im not good at writing people in love so please forgive me #theyre only a little in love at this point so its okay #anyway lalatov was joking about the dragon thing just a simple jest #or was he????#he was.

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hifilounge · 2 years

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Introducing Billy to Team HiFi Lounge!

Hi All,

Unbelievably we are now 10 years old, how did that happen, what an amazing 10 years it has been though and I just want to say a huge thanks to everyone for their support over that time, watch this space for our 10th Anniversary party plans coming soon.

Over that 10 years it started with me on my own as we got HFL off the ground, then Wendy joined a couple of years later as the business grew, then Ady joined 3 years ago and now it is time for the next chapter as we welcome Billy to our closely knit team here at HFL.

I would say over the 10 years the hardest part is finding the right people to work with and to represent HFL, for me one of the most important asset is finding someone who is really personable and easy to get on with, it really isn’t looking for a salesperson as we don’t really sell at HFL but more like advise so customers can make the right decision for them, but the most important attribute has to be a love for music firstly and HiFi a close second and in Billy I really believe we have found the right person to wave the HFL flag and help all our customers.

A bit of background on Billy, I actually met him when he came in to buy some headphones for his composing and we go on straight away, he is a guitar teacher, composer and played guitar in band called ‘New Street Adventure’ you can check them out on the streaming services. An important part of working here is to be able to chat about music, that is the main avenue for conversation in here and Billy really does know his music so I have no doubt he will fit straight it. He has a bit to learn about all the kit but he is like a sponge at the moment and super keen to learn so I know he will pick it all up very quickly, I mean how hard can it be.

The plan is for Billy to write a weekly Music blog discussing new and favourite albums and will also be keen for any recommendations for him to check out and customer participation, we’ll put this up on the website and social channels.

Anyway I’ll shut up and leave Billy to introduce himself below –

‘I’m really excited to be joining the team at the Hifi lounge and meeting all of you guys! It’s a great opportunity and I feel very lucky. My background has primarily been playing guitar in bands and live performance. I also studied music production and mixing for a number of years. I’m really passionate about sound and music and completely get the never ending pursuit for audio perfection…..if it exists! Outside of music I have an understanding wife, a beautiful daughter and two rescue dogs that are bonkers! I also enjoy a curry every now and then.’

I really feel that with the addition of Billy we have a really strong team of Myself, Wendy, Ady and Billy to keep on top of things at HFL and help our customers with any enquiries going forward and I know he is really keen to get to meet all our great customers and become part of the HFL family.

Many thanks,

Cheers,

Paul.

nsa press Shot

New Street Adventure The Final Adventure The Venue

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warnerbreum17 · 2 months

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A Travel Guide Back And Forth The Granada Airport

Pumps are only suitable in the cities so leave those at house! The adventurous regarding visiting the province can be tempered using a little while out for sightseeing. An ancient Buddhist temple built in 537 T.C in the Liang dynasty show up in Guangzhou. It contains a flower pagoda (so named now for the colorful exterior) as its main structure, built in 1097 permits an octagonal base. It had been rebuilt in 1373 That you simply.D. during the Ming dynasty following a fire had destroyed it partially go for walks . was restored in 1900. Top Hau Giang AZ 24h View More: tophaugiangaz.com - Top Hau Giang AZ Reviewed by Team Leader in Top Hau Giang AZ: Ngô Thu Hà - Ngo Thu Ha I prefer to think of "travelers" as creative and resourceful people, with a variety of confidence and survival skills. However, when heading somewhere you haven't been prior to will have moments, days, months, numerous feeling full lowdown opposite: unsure, confused, hesitant, and ill-prepared. Usually you'll be easily swayed by the opinions of others and minor commitments; we execute this because this stuff feel familiar to us and it's okay in which to stay inside the proverbial "box" sometimes. You'll acquire numerous interesting things to adore at Mount Tai. There is a lot over here for you take as an unforgettable memory back home. The splendid views overlooking the Tai'an city and surrounding areas are good. The tale-telling rocks, old fragrant pines and cypresses are enough to captivate anybody's detects. Never miss the four wonders of your mountain are Sunrises at a east, enigmatic sunsets, fluffy Clouds and also the Golden Belt along the Yellow Waterway. Be assured it's truly something beautiful.

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venusiansilk · 8 months

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୧ ‧₊ MESS OF A MESS.

꒰ satoru comes home very late and very drunk. ꒱

ᴍᴅɴɪ. f!reader. no curses au. smut. humor. fluff. established rel. brief anal stuff. profanity is op ngl. 4.7k. nsfw.

good god, satoru is so fucking drunk. he’s so drunk he can barely see straight.

one moment he’s stumbling around messily just trying to find a place to spill his guts while nanami holds him up and pushes him along – likely aggravated that yet again, he’s the only one willing to drink responsibly with inherent understanding and respect for their tolerance – and the next thing he knows he’s an emotional mess on geto’s bathroom floor.

he knows when you find out the state he’s in right now, you’ll probably be undoubtedly enraged, not something as simple and bearable as anger. you’ll enter the depths of wrath and drag him into it with you.

somewhere, in the last remaining pocket of rationality within his inebriated mind, he’s scared shitless, because it’s already 11:30, and you hate when he comes back late. he said he wouldn’t overdo it, but of course, he overdoes it.

it’s been overdid.

now, he’s sobbing in the bathroom, hunched over the toilet with nanami yelling at him to stop crying and geto is trying his hardest not to laugh at the scene before him. the party’s been going on for a while, too long now that he muses on it. it’s only because things are good. their friendships all survive near death and it’s something to be celebrated. their bonds lingered on the cusps of dissolving into disillusion, but they finally had the strength to pull back, to reassess and rebuild.

reunion without retribution, that’s what we wanted.

shoko finally made up with he and geto, both of them apologizing, accepting being smacked by nanami for hurting her to begin with. they all drank away the tension for the second night in a row and had a good time. toji had a great time, so great he made them all chase him around like they were all teenagers again. satoru, arguably, had too good of a time, too. “she’s gonna be so mad; fuck, fuck fuck,” satoru cries. “oh my god, you assholes! why do you guys wanna drink all the time?” the last part comes out as a quiet plea that nanami scoffs in disgust at. “shut the fuck up, gojo.” he demands. “i’m tired of listening to you bitch. you’re a grown fucking man. she’s not going to ground you for getting drunk at your best friend’s party.” “no, but…” a hiccup comes that burns his throat as warm tears spill over reddened rims. “oh my god, what if i'm too drunk to fuck her well? or eat her out?” satoru’s voice squeaks, terrified as the realization hits him. with that, geto can’t contain it any longer. he’s doubled over, howling in laughter, folded and hugging himself while he bellows. nanami looks uncomfortable but rolls his eyes, jaw clenching. this is a serious matter for satoru, though. “s’not funny.” he cries. “that’s the best pussy i’ve ever had and m’serious. i’ll be fucking sick inside if i can’t fuck tonight because everyone insists on partying all the time. why?” “you’re a pussy-whipped lightweight now and that has nothing to do with me or my incredible parties.” geto sings happily. “i’ll still be fucking whomever, unlike you.” nanami bites back a laugh when satoru pouts at geto’s words, indignant cerulean eyes wide, teary, and sad. his lower lip trembles as he looks between the two of them. he thought they were healing, but it seems like they’re just shifting targets. they’re laughing. he’s nervous about his sex life and they’re laughing. obviously, he’s hurt, deeply and indubitably wounded. so satoru starts bawling; fat, messy tears stream down sanguine cheeks. “why would you even say that?” he sobs. he’s so drunk, it’s unbelievable. satoru cries senselessly while geto slides to the floor in response, weakened by his own unrelenting laughter. then shoko is there and suddenly it’s a chorus of everyone’s amusement regarding him and his display of his emotions. “none of you care about me!” the waterworks drag on for only minutes until satoru’s stomach turns and his throat burns, suddenly feeling full. he whines and hears nanami say something about a towel and a bag, but it’s drowned out by the sound of himself hurling into the toilet with the force of his life.

time passes; satoru is completely unaware of such a thing. after he’s done and his head doesn’t feel like it’s spinning too fast for him to even open his eyes, he’s still just sitting on the bathroom floor, nearly limp body leaning against the wall. how long has he been there? he has no clue now. he’s been out of it. he slowly comes to, looking around and seeing nanami squatting across from him and geto standing in the bathroom doorway. “you good?” nanami asks. “yeah. need water. and food.” satoru mumbles. geto pushes a bottle of water into his hands. “drink slowly or you’ll just throw up again. shoko went to go make you something light to eat. now that i know you’re okay, though…you fucking lightweight. i’m embarrassed both for and of you.” once again, geto and nanami are both laughing at him. “fuck off, both of you.” he spits, drinking some of the water. “what fuckin’ time is it?” “1:15.” geto notes. “your girlfriend already called a million times.” satoru groans. “i’m in fucking trouble.” “she didn’t sound mad, just said she was worried because she hadn’t heard from you. so, here’s your phone. you know where everything is. you officially cannot drink more than two drinks at any of my functions. satoru’s prohibition era has come.” geto places his phone on the sink counter and looks at nanami expectantly. “fuck,” at the moment, he doesn’t care if he can never drink again because unless you’re feeling flirty and forgiving, it’s not only his prohibition era that’s arrived, but his abstinence era, too. “i told her you’d take a shower and we’d bring you back soon. so, drink up, eat up, wash up, and get out. love you and goodnight, dear friends.” with that, geto leaves. “thanks for taking care of me, yet again.” satoru tells nanami, pulling himself to his feet and immediately wobbling back down, feeling like he might be sick all over again if he moves too fast. “sorry if i ruined the party.” nanami waves offhandedly. “you know i’ll look out for you.” “is geto mad at me?” he chuckles and shakes his head. “not at all. he just wants to go tell the others about what you were crying about, which you should know is what would happen.” satoru’s entire face flushes. he completely forgot he was sobbing about your pussy, and being too drunk to fuck you.

oh my god i’m a fuckin’ disgrace.

it’s disgraceful for a few reasons: he’s an embarrassing, loudmouth, sloppy drunk. that’s another bit of information you might just end his life over. and, he absolutely could still fuck you no matter how drunk he was. that’s a hill of arrogance he’ll proudly die on. he doesn’t give a shit what he was crying about. the only thing he had correct in his prior stupor is that you genuinely are the best he’s ever had. satoru needs to get home, but his head is still fuzzy and nothing feels real. regardless, he still needs to get on his feet. he looks over to nanami. “you know the sickest part about all of this?” he hums in response. “i really need to fuckin’ pee, but i’m still so goddamn drunk i can't move.” satoru tells him, laughing loudly at the absurdity of it all. for once, nanami follows suit.

when he finally gets up and eats a snack shoko brings him, he cleans off his face and uses one of geto’s spare toothbrushes to clean out his mouth. geto brings him some spare clothes to take home, a plain white tee and dark gray sweats. nanami tells him he’ll be with everyone downstairs for a bit while he gets ready, then he’ll take he and his car, home. satoru can always rely on shoko and geto to make sure he gets what he needs and he can always look to nanami to ensure he gets where he needs to be in the safest manner possible, no matter how much it fills him with irritation to do so. so, satoru leans on them. after he’s ready to go, he tosses the coin in the air and texts you. you might explode and lock him out, but you might accept him in the state he’s in right now. if you leave enough room for him to wedge his way into your good graces again, he’ll force himself with whatever he’s got. it’s bordering three in the morning, but he can’t get the thought of you spread out on the dresser, using his grip as your support, one leg hooked over his shoulder, out of his mind at all. not even in the slightest.

satoru:

on my way soon. you up?

you:

i can’t believe you got sloppy drunk.

no kissing. no cuddling. no fuck?

satoru:

don’t play with me baby. i'm fine.

ate. got cleaned up. heading out.

still gonna fuck you. maybe on dresser.

will eat you out very well for making you wait. promise.

oh and don’t forget. my shirt. nothing under.

you:

get home.

satoru makes sure to get back as soon as possible. when nanami takes him home in his own car, geto follows behind them in his, so satoru won’t have to get it later. he can’t and won’t fight back his loving sigh. they go out of their way to hold him close, even after ridiculing him. even after everything nearly erupts, all he can feel for them is fondness. satoru thanks them thoroughly, tangling them up in a long embrace as he tells them how much he loves them both because he’s still very drunk and now very sentimental about how much they all care for him.

need to tell ieiri and even toji’s rotten ass, too.

“alright, okay, get off me.” nanami snorts and shoves him, straightening his shirt. geto chuckles. “go get fucked, pussy boy. go home to your girlfriend and dresser.” “i fucking will.” satoru huffs in determination. he gets inside the main building of the complex where you both live in foolish love these days, and he stumbles his way down the hall where the apartment is, fumbling over the number pad to unlock the door. he’s biting his lip, desperately trying to concentrate, because as soon as he sees you, it’s a go. a move. the brightest green light he’s ever seen. he keeps fumbling with the numbers in frustration, but soon after, you open the door. “my ‘toru,” you greet him sweetly, honeysuckle-toned as always, looking him over curiously. “different clothes?” “c’mon. let me in, baby.” he whines, no patience. he wants his hands on your body, your pussy in his face, his tongue between your legs, lapping you up with fervor, covering you in apologetic licks. “now.” you ignore his attempt at a demand, tilting your head to the side cutely. “why are you home so late?” “because i can. baby, stop playin’ with me. move.” satoru lazily kicks his shoes off in the hallway, no regard for them, and does what he does best: bulldozes. he grabs your face and kisses you hard, pushing his way inside and closing the door behind him. you wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss as much you can, as much as his messiness will allow. his hands move from your face, sliding down your frame as if to memorize the shape of you with only the tips of his fingers and the grasp of his palms. “you in just my shirt?” he asks you, voice husky and gritty with desire as he lifts up the polyester fabric covering you, feeling your cool skin. “nothing under?” “nothing under.” a proud confirmation. “always fuckin’ ready for me.” he sings your praises, proud that you listen and quietly grateful you let him in. “wanna nibble.” his head dips down to the base of your neck, pressing tender kisses there and tugging tiny patches of your skin between his teeth. a gentle indulgence. your fingers run the back of his head, grazing over his undercut, tugging on snowy locks above. with a fragile whimper, his greedy lips find yours again. satoru groans into your mouth while you breathe it in, breathe all of him in. now his pants feel so tight that he wants to scream. he can’t focus his lips on your skin until the restricting fabric is gone and he can shove his throbbing erection into something just to relieve the aching. “i’m so fucking hard right now it hurts.” he whines, fingers moving to tinker with his belt. his frustration grows with every instance his fine motor skills fail him. “bed. all fours. just need to fuck for a sec before i take you to the dresser. nodding, you pull his sweater over your head and off your body, revealing that you are indeed completely naked underneath as he requested, as you promised. you smile smugly when his eyes are glued to you, traveling over the sight of your body, perky nipples looking like his tongue’s coming target. “whatever you say, ‘toru.” he watches you saunter over to the bed, propping yourself up on your hands and knees, thighs parted explicitly for his viewing pleasure, he’s certain. and his heart swells with love for you over it. “that’s fuckin’ right.” he grunts. “gonna fuck the shit out of you.” “come on then. hurry up.” you groan. “you move so slow when you’re drunk. it’s taking you forever just to get your belt off!” “i’m coming.” he rolls his eyes, grumbling. as he’s about to undo his zipper, he stops. “oh, wait. shit, baby. i need a second. just a second.” “what?” you squeak in disbelief. “gojo satoru, i have my ass in the goddamn air right now! what else could you possibly need time for?!” “disgustin’ ’n unacceptable,” he mutters to himself, turning his palms over.

he shuffles his way to the bathroom because his hands are absolutely filthy and he’s about to worship you. the last time he washed them was at geto’s. he’s touched so many random objects between that time and now. considering he’s definitely about to be knuckles-deep inside you within the next three to five minutes, this is entirely unacceptable for him. “excuse me?”’ the sound of running water muffles his speech more than it slurs. “m’hands are fucking filthy. can’t put my dirty fingers inside you. no, i won’t.” he takes time to thoroughly wash his hands, taking pride in the work they’re about to put forth. and not to mention you bought this really fruity soap from someplace you go for candles, too. it’s orange blossom and he isn’t sure if it’s an aphrodisiac, but it should be. it smells divine. just like you. once he dries his hands and steps back into the room, he sees you sitting completely naked on the bed with arms folded, glaring. “my hands are clean now.” he tells you, quite proudly, smiling and holding his palms up for you to see how diligent and dutiful he’s been for you. but your eyes narrow. “did you call me disgusting and unacceptable?”

“no?” he answers, confused by your notion. “called my hands that, though. they were fuckin’ gross; gettin’ ready to write some scripture in your pussy so wanted to make sure my hands were squeaky clean.” your mouth falls open and only a tiny utter tumbles out. a sinister smirk of his own follows. “why are you sittin’ there like that? i told you all fours. come on then. hurry up. you move so slow when you’re bratty. it’s taking you forever just to get your pussy played with.” you don’t move. you don’t speak. “so…you gonna put your ass back up for me like i told you to or you gonna sit there and disappoint me?” and in a moment, there it is, the sharp rise and fall of your chest. you bite your lower lip and nod in silence. a loving smile. “words, baby. i don’t know what you’re nodding your pretty head at.” “m’gonna put my ass back up for you like you told me to.” knowing he has you hooked, satoru chuckles, slipping into your usual dynamics with ease. “good answer. all fours.” his pants and briefs become discarded fabric pooled at his feet he steps out of and abandons altogether. when he approaches the bed and is greeted by your ass in the air just like he told you, a lazy smile paints itself across his face. his hand travels down the arch of your back slowly, thoughtfully, thumbing over the indention of dimples as if they were signs to decipher. hands slide back to caress your ass in his palms. he smacks each cheek lustily, a yelped moan spilling from you as he does. examining the sweetness between your legs, his eyes twinkle with delight. you’re glistening, out on display for him, perfect mound asking him for a kiss and some praise, it seems. you waited so long just to feel him. so patiently, at that. you were still ready even when he came home late. you still opened the door. you still said his name with adoration dripping from your tongue, teeth, and lips. you still let him in and let him touch. you still want him to keep you close. you want him just as badly when he’s a mess as you do when he’s perfect and pristine; this is why he worships. your love is an unconditional vat; devoutness is all you deserve. he kneels down and drags his tongue along your folds, the tip dipping into your entrance, taunting and foreshadowing your first orgasm for you. it doesn’t take long and you’re already singing for him. he’ll give you everything and more tonight. “want you so bad, ‘toru.” you whine. “need you so bad.” hearing your declaration makes him twitch, and the aching returns instantly. satoru, helpless and on his knees just to taste you, thrusts into his own grasp several times, hissing, muted groans pouring out of him in inconsistent streams. “best in the fuckin’ world. can’t wait to be inside you and cream that precious fucking pussy of yours. gonna reward you so well. gonna make sure you feel so good, as good as you’ve been to me, baby. m’so proud of my perfect girl. gonna worship you.” the whole time he speaks, his fingers glide up and down the slit of your lips, teasing you with soft grazes along you, a digit slipping into your arousal and enjoying the moisture now coating his fingertip. your hips start moving towards his hand, yearning for more than what he’s giving. he rises to his full height again, index finger sliding into you easily, earning him a small, pleasant whimper. “another,” you request between soft pants, breathing becoming thick and strangled. satoru offers an aroused hum, sliding in an additional digit, his middle finger. he works them in and out of you at a steady pace.

it’s not fast or rough, because the pleasure that runs through you will be far too short-lived for his liking. his movements are languid and thorough. he wants it to slink its way up your spine and clutch you. his fingers are dragging out of you slowly, but when he pushes them back in, there’s light pressure behind it, and his fingers are sinking into your hole, gently massaging your walls. when his two fingers curve ever so slightly downward, you arch her back more, shuddering while breathy whines leave your lips. “yes, yes, yes,” your moan is elongated and satisfied. he keeps his motions steady and consistent, thoroughly enjoying how your body reacts to his sensual touches. you can’t keep yourself propped up anymore after a few minutes and your head dips into the sheets, ass still hiked so he can continue with his fun. he pulls his fingers out, cock throbbing at the site of them dripping with you. he should be ashamed about the way he whimpers so contentedly when his soaked fingers pop into his mouth, but he isn’t. he just wants more.

“good fucking god, you’re so wet.” he coos, returning his fingers to your warmth, your audible gasp followed by your fingers clutching the sheets beneath you, but his movements never stop. “you love fucking my fingers, huh?” you moan, your agreement whiney and pleading. “wanna cum on them. please, please, ‘toru.” he feigns his sadness. every flavor of your begging is his favorite. “but i wanted to taste you, baby. i wanted you to cum on my tongue.” his voice sounds disappointed but his fingers tell an entirely different story as he decides to involve his thumb, rubbing it over your clit while he’s sliding his two fingers back in. he listens intently as your pants become broken pleads. “fuck, ‘toru. f-fuck, okay. okay,” it’s all you can stammer out, because when he picks up his pace, you sound like you might be on the verge of tears. “oh….oh my god.” satoru continues talking as if he’s not coaxing you straight into the depths of delirium with the intent of watching you drown in all the sensation he gives you. “want my tongue all inside that fucking pussy when you cum the first time. maybe on your next one i’ll let it be on my fingers, but i’m very settled on my tongue for now.” “whatever you say, baby. whatever you say.” you whine for him. “just more. more, please.” he smiles at your choice of words, removing his fingers while rising and taking in your frantic whimpers at the loss of stimulation. he waits for as long as he can, he really does, but he needs himself inside you desperately, just for a moment, just enough to sate the bordering animalistic urge he has for your stickiness and desperation on his dick. he wants to feel you clenching around him, hugging and catering to the need of his length. “can’t take it.” he rasps, erection back in his clutch. “need to be inside you. need.” he’ll feel better once you’re the one that feels like you can’t take it. “hurry, baby,” a wispy whine. “feel empty.” a shaky exhale of breath through gritted teeth. “don’t worry, baby. gonna fill you up. gonna keep you nice ’n fucking full.” the amount of desire emitting from him is likely lethal. he lines himself up perfectly behind you, gripping your hips with his palms and pulling your ass closer to him. he spreads you open for him more with one, strong palm, and grazes the tip of his member along you, receiving exactly what he wants from you: another needy plea. “please fuck me, ‘toru. please, please, please.” little by little, he sinks himself into you, watching himself disappear inside you, a sharp breath sucked and trapped in his throat as he tries his hardest to endure all the different forms of sensation he’s having at once: the feeling of your walls welcoming him so warmly, clinging to every inch of him like he just came home, the intensity of the smoldering heat that fills his body, how flushed he’s becoming just upon entering you, feeling all your moisture around him, you coating him. hearing the utter decadence in your moan when he slides all the way in with no problem, you stretching and taking his girth with ease. he lingers in stillness, wades in the feeling of you like this. “do something.” your mewl is riddled with urgency and growing impatience. satoru starts rocking his hips, leisurely at first, tender even. he just enjoys the feeling of being inside you, enjoying the sight of your hole swallowing him. it relieves the ache he’s been feeling since he came home, but as soon as the initial haze passes, he feels a thick twinge in his gut, something primal seeping in. his slow thrusts become erratic and intense. “tightest fucking pussy,” he grunts, snapping into you with abandoned restraint, so lust-laden it’s making his head cloudy and dizzy again. “ah, fuck. fuck, baby. this is what…this is what i’m fucking saying. feeling you like this is fucking…fuuuck…..” he leaves it at that, cutting himself off with a series of breathy moans as his head lulls back.

“all yours,” you choke out. “feels good, ‘toru. feels so good.” he knows he doesn’t want to cum yet, but the state he’s in almost feels delirious. his eyes keep rolling and closing, lips clasped tightly together because all he can focus on is the ecstasy coursing through his body every time his rhythm carries him back inside you, your walls pulsing around him mercilessly. he hears your cries and them being muffled by you pressing your face into the bedding. he wants more. he keeps looking down at your ass, wanting to see you sinking onto him rather than him pumping himself into you. he wants to grab and grip and tug and smack. “fuck on me.” he directs, stopping all motion. without hesitation, you swirl your hips and press back on him, back arching, trying to find a reasonable way to get yourself off on him while he watches you. he grips your ass cheek in his palm, squeezing, holding. he swallows down his own sounds just so he can dote on you. “perfect. you’re fucking perfect, baby.” your cries fill the room, his name being sung over and over. intoxicated, he sticks his thumb in his mouth, wetting it. then, he has one palm taut to your ass, spreading your cheeks slightly. his fingers do their best to grip you and hold you like that, thumbing your hole, teasing you. he surrenders to a whimper he’s unable to contain. he resumes his previous movements, using one hand to hold your hips and guide himself in and out of you, the other gripping your ass with his thumb in your hole. he’s not going to last much longer like this, but it’s one of his favorite ways to fuck and he almost can’t stop. “oh my god, baby. ohh…my fucking god. all mine.” his voice comes out gritty, pace spiraling out of consistency. “all me. my pussy to fuck…and play in….only me.” “only you, ‘toru,” you coo the words between your sloppy moans each time his hips roll into you. “all yours.” his head falls back, on the cusp of being completely engulfed in hot bliss. “who do you belong to, baby? huh? tell me who this pussy belongs to.” “t-to-oooh…” your voice stammers and stutters, unable to give him a coherent response.

he feels your walls spasming around him, but he’s trying to hold on. he wants you to cum on his tongue, but he also simply cannot stop fucking you until you answer his question. he’s trying to give you time; you’re gasping, groaning, and whining all at once. but he doesn’t want you to fall apart unless his tongue is what sends you over the edge first. he just wants to keep his promise. “tell me.” he begs you, thrusts becoming languid, but hips still rolling very steadily and intently so he can get every single inch of himself in with every motion. his hand reaches and fists a bundle of your hair, tugging. “who does this perfect fucking pussy belong to?” “sa-satoru. you. all you.” he slows down, causing you to whine. “so close, baby. p-please, don’t stop.” he does, though. rather abruptly, too. but there’s only a fleeting moment between him pulling out of you and him descending to his knees. “turn over.” he instructs. “lay flat on your back. spread out wide for me, baby.” it takes you a moment, limbs feeling fatigued now that the momentum dies. satoru helps you complete his impromptu task, snickering to himself at how tuckered out you already are. if this is you now, by the time he’s done with you, you’ll be a crumbled, fragmented, devastated mess. he can’t wait. hooking his arms under your thighs, he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed, closer to his mouth. he already knows this will end with you in satiated ruin, folded up in his arms for support, legs limp. he already knows your night will end with you wrapped up securely in his grasp, receiving soft kisses, dotes, and praises. honestly, as it should.

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