#every time I look at this I find more details and it’s just—

[save-the-villainous-cat]

may I request a really really really smart villain. but somehow the hero manages to outsmart them, and even though villain is completely dumbfounded, they find it incredibly hot???

gl, if you wish, but im fine with anything !!

“You’re scared,” the villain whispered. “I know what that feels like. I know what it can do to a person.”

Their fingertips traced the hero’s clavicle gently, as if they attempted to calm a startled deer by stoking it.

“It’s not a pleasant emotion. It certainly isn’t one anyone should be used to. So I’m curious, do you need my help?” the villain said. Their eyes scanned the hero curiously. Almost as if they could absorb everything about them just by looking at them.

Something about the hero seemed to pull them in, something seemed to fascinate them on a grand scale and the hero couldn’t tell if they loved the challenge or the attention.

“Would you mind?” the hero asked. They nodded towards the villain’s fingers on their body and clearly, the villain received their message. They pulled away and smiled. Curiosity seemed to be their big weakness.

“I apologise, of course. I’m fond of pretty things.”

“As every crow is.”

“That’s a compliment.” The hero didn’t answer. They knew the villain was toying with them; they were fully aware of their sweet words and their kind smile.

The villain wasn’t easy to understand and that was a big problem in this whole mess. Incompetent people proposed a threat to the city because of their lack of intelligence. They weren’t easy to understand, they were unpredictable.

Usually, the hero could argue with smart people, could get into their minds and understand their motives but the villain was a complete minefield. Their unpredictability came from several unrelated plans that intertwined and altogether made up a whole picture.

They were ten steps ahead. Always.

Suddenly, a missing professor, a burning bakery, a sick child and a stolen book were parts of a chain that would make sense to the hero much, much later. Ordinary things could play huge parts in these reaction chains, something they liked to call “controlled butterfly effect”. It made the hero think of all the details, all the little crimes in the city. It made them overanalyse every little conversation they had with the villain.

Was the villain giving them clues?

Was there a way to decipher these riddles?

How could anyone be at ten different places at the same time?

How was it possible to get information you’d have to torture out of people without actually talking to anyone at all?

“I’ll have to change my address for the third time this month,” the hero said. “You should apologise for that as well.”

“It’s not my fault you make it so easy for me.” The villain looked around the hero’s living room and in some weird and strange way, the hero felt superior to them, now that everything was done. It would’ve been foolish to say they were relieved. In fact, the villain was right. They were terrified. “New choice of plants, I see. You like orchids?”

“Why exactly are you here?” the hero asked. They assumed the villain knew about yesterday. They also assumed the villain was here to talk about that. “So you can make fun of me? Humiliate me in my own home?”

“Without an audience? Please, I thought you knew me.” The villain’s eyes found the hero’s again after what they deemed to be enough observation.

“You like it more intimate. You like it when it’s just us.” Now, the villain looked intrigued.

“Touché,” they said, almost as if the hero had defeated them with a single word. The hero wished it had been that easy.

“Again. Why are you here?” The hero crossed their arms in front of their chest. It was getting quite chilly in just a shirt and underwear.

In response, the villain took in a deep breath and sat down on the hero’s couch. They lounged.

“When Hannibal crossed the Alps, do you think he was scared? I mean, all that responsibility on his shoulders? It was dangerous, he could’ve lost his entire army.”

“Is this supposed to be some metaphor for me being Hannibal and you being…what? The Roman Republic?” the hero asked. Sometimes, it was laughable where the villain’s mind went. It was hard enough to keep up with them already but the amount of knowledge the hero acquired from talking to them alone was insane.

It was the type of learning experience that required failing repeatedly to get to the answer. The hero didn’t enjoy it.

But the villain only chuckled.

“I was trying to say that being determined and scared can coexist. You did something that demands great courage.” They tilted their head. “And yet, it is a very scary thing.”

With slow steps, the hero approached them until they were close enough. They sat down on the villain’s lap. Unsurprisingly, their nemesis didn’t protest.

They weren’t proud of what had happened, they weren’t proud of what they’d done.

“How can a person obtain information no one dares to whisper?” the hero asked. “How can that person receive it within seconds?”

“You tell me,” the villain said. An invitation. It would’ve been illogical to decline.

“You had two helpers. Someone who can teleport. Someone who can turn invisible. I don’t know how you convinced them but they were heroes once.”

The villain nodded.

“The Romans had to learn the hard way how important spies are. They learnt it from the Carthaginian. Like I learnt from you years ago,” the villain said. It was difficult to imagine that all this was the hero’s fault. “Now, tell me what you did when you found out.”

The hero was quiet until the villain’s palm brushed their thigh softly. The villain seemed unfittingly euphoric.

“I knew they wouldn’t be easy to keep in a cell.”

“So?”

“So I killed them.” The villain nodded.

“You killed them,” the villain agreed. “Did you know crows wait for other predators to tear open their prey?”

The hero waited. The villain wasn’t angry. They were fascinated. It hadn’t even occurred to the hero that this was the solution up until yesterday.

And still, even though this was a major success when it came to stopping the villain, it wasn’t satisfactory. Killing two of their own people hadn’t been pretty.

“Did you know curiosity killed the cat?” the hero asked back. Behind their back, they clenched their fist to stop their hand from shaking.

Within seconds, several red laser dots pointed at the villain. With the hero on their lap, pressing them into the couch, there wasn’t anywhere to go. The sharpshooters wouldn’t let the villain move a muscle.

And behind the shocked expression, the hero saw something they weren’t sure if they loathed or liked: a certain admiration for only them.

#villain it’s a trap u stupid ahh #I am behind you I always find you I am the tiger #somehow completely managed to ignore the dumbfounded part I AM SO SORRY #I’m not even close to being able to write smart characters but I hope this is ok 👹 #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request

[a-mint-bear]

Make Me Yours

Male Yandere x Reader

"I just... really wanna put a collar on a cute guy."

You didn't even mean to say it out loud, but your best friend since middle school had always been super open with this sort of stuff. You've always been the first one she texts when a date goes really well, or really terribly. And a lot of your coffee meetups, like this one, devolve into her oversharing all the juicy details of her relationships.

"Oh wow." She nudged you with a grin. "Didn't know you had it in you!"

Unable to meet her eyes, you try to defend your stray thought. You remind her of some of the jerks you've dated, how their assertive and self-assured personalities had all quickly turned into a bit too aggressive and controlling. In certain situations, in controlled doses... that could lead to a nice time. But it's all fun and games until you try to explain away some of their worse moments to your coworkers and swiftly realize you're in "that kind" of relationship. You wonder if you give off some kind of energy that attracts creeps...

The thought of finding a guy who would not only let you take the reins but maybe even prefer you taking charge? It gave you a little thrill you're almost embarrassed to admit.

"Well, it's nothing to get all twisted up over." she shrugs, taking a sip of her iced latte. "You'll find the right guy that's into that kind of thing."

You smiled, she really was trying to encourage you with this, and it was oddly sweet of her.

"Oh, look!" she scooted closer to you, showing you her phone screen. "There's tons of collars you can get. You thinkin' like leather, classic S&M style? Or somethin' more cutesy?"

Maybe a little too encouraging, sometimes.

~ Somewhere very close by...~

His hands were shaking. Your words were playing on repeat in his head, drowning everything else out.

As if you weren't already perfect. He'd been so jealous of you meeting up with your friend, but if it made this conversation happen so he couldn't be too upset about it. He'd been trying to think of some way to make you his for so long... But being yours? Wearing something like that? Something that said he belonged only to you?

He was already yours. But a little proof never hurt.

. . .

It was late, and you decided to cut through the park to get home quicker. It was a pretty safe area, but you didn't want to be here any longer than you had to be. A few lights lit up the main path and you didn't see anyone else around.

But that didn't mean you were alone.

"Hey..."

You spin around to see... some guy. You'd never met him before, but he was... making A LOT of eye contact.

He was cute though. Soft, fluffy hair and piercings in his ears, his bright eyes poking out from beneath his bangs. And he had at least six inches on you, but not really an intimidating frame, a bit skinny too. The way he was looking at you was making you nervous, but you weren't sure if it was a "Oh, this is unexpected." kind of nervous or a "You're gonna end up in his basement." kind of nervous.

"You probably don't remember me but, uh...we had a few classes together last year and…"

He seemed really nervous himself, trailing off with some color in his cheeks. You tell him politely that you were sorry, but you didn't remember him.

"That's okay, uh..."

He was breathing kind of funny, his eyes still staring into yours. You asked him what he needed, hoping it would speed this along and you could leave.

He took a breath, and all you could do was stare, wondering if you should distract him and make a break for it.

"I... I've liked you. For a long time. It's like... like everything about you is just so... wonderful! Seeing you every day keeps me going! I was okay just watching but then... Sorry, sorry. I'm c-coming on too strong, I..."

He took a step towards you, moving like he was going to touch you, but you instinctively took a step back. He looked a little hurt.

"No, no please, don't be scared! I just... I thought it was the right time... I've been thinking about this for so long! I just wanted to..."

He dropped to his knees and the look in his eyes was almost...like he worshipped you. Like you were everything to him and nothing else mattered. It was a bit overwhelming...

"I heard you talking to your friend the other day. Not, uh, not in a weird way, I swear! I-it's just... It's all I can think about..."

He stared at you, a glimmer of something in his eyes. You could see a tremble in his hands, like he was debating reaching out for you again. But he was holding himself back.

Seeing him kneeling, looking up at you with a want that burned into you... It was doing something to you.

This was a weird, kinda scary, unbelievable situation. But it felt so...

Good.

You felt bold. Deciding to go for broke, you finally spoke again.

You asked him to tell you what he wanted.

You could see the tremble shoot through his frame, the smallest, quietest gasp when the your words finally registered.

"I want... I want you to look down at me, just like this! I want you to run your fingers through my hair and tell me I'm a good boy. Your good boy! I want to cuddle up to you and hear your heartbeat while you hold me, I... I want you to use me... I want you to yank my collar if I get too excited and tell me to behave."

He laughed softly at the thought, this guy was completely smitten.

"I want to be yours, if that'll make you happy..."

He reached into his back pocket, you heard the gentle clink of the collar before you saw it. It was like some kind of odd proposal, except he was down on both knees.

He held it up to you, his eyes clouded with a want that made your face feel hot.

So painfully slowly, you reached out for him, your fingers flinching back for a split second, rational thought desperately trying to break through. But despite all the reasons you could think this was completely crazy, you still wanted this.

You touched his cheek, and he didn't hesitate to lean into your hand with a contented, dreamy sigh.

The power he was giving you was... new, exciting, maybe a bit intoxicating. And he was offering it all so willingly, you wondered if this was all a dream.

"I wanna be your good boy..." His voice was soft but pleading, almost desperate. "Please..."

His smile was making your brain feel fuzzy, seeing him looking up at you like you were his whole world.

"Make me yours."

#this one's a little self-indulgent lol #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere x reader #male yandere oc #yandere male #yandere boy #subby yandere #wondering if I should start naming these guys and gals #so i can do part 2s with the same characters #this one's been nearly done and in my drafts for a while #job hunting is long and tiring y'all

[catmiemy]

Another Chance to Live Part 1 (Ana Maria Crnogorčević x Reader)

Summary: Ana and you are both struggling with unwanted transfers, but maybe you can at least find happiness off the pitch.

A/N: This is the first part of a story I've been working on for a while. I guess my way of processing my emotions about Ana's transfer. I've been in the denial stage for a long time 😅

The next two chapters are already written (just need to edit them) and so far it's a total of about 13k words. I'm now at a crossroad which will decide how long the story becomes. So I thought I'd publish the first part and see how much interest there is in a story like this to help me decide.

It felt like a cruel joke of the universe that now, now when you had been forced to leave, the woman you’ve had a crush on for years, joined your team, or well your former team. Words that made your heart crack a little more every time you thought them. Never in a billion years had you expected your team to become your former team.

Ever since you had first laid eyes on Ana you had been dazzled by her, not necessarily only by her looks, although you definitely enjoyed them, but also by her personality and her aura. She always radiated so much kindness and positive energy. It was impossible not to be drawn to her.

Sadly your paths didn’t cross all too often and when they did, Ana was always somewhere in the heart of whatever group you were part of, while you were lingering on the edges, looking in. So the Swiss woman was probably only vaguely aware of your existence, while you soaked up every detail you could find about Ana. The more you learnt, the more you liked her.

 And yes, sometimes when you lay in bed at night you made up little scenarios how the two of you would meet. One of your favorite ones was Ana coming to Atleti, not really knowing her way around Madrid yet, so you take her under your wing and show her everything. And of course she starts falling for you as you spend so much time together. It was your imagination after all, so you could day dream all you wanted.

Now part of this little fantasy was actually coming true, Ana really was joining Atlético, and it frustrated you to no end that now that she came, you were gone.  Although perhaps it wasn’t the universe being cruel towards you, maybe it was protecting you because even if you played for the same team there was no way the Swiss woman would ever go for someone like you.

Still, you spent a good amount of time fuming about it in your apartment. Possibly also because it was easier to focus on that rather than on the fact that your childhood club had just dropped you like you meant nothing.  Every time you remembered the conversation with the club’s managers you felt like throwing up, hiding under the covers for the rest of your life, and ripping off your ears so you didn’t have to listen to one more word from them. So yeah, it was comforting in a weird way to think about your missed chance with Ana, especially since it never had been much of a chance anyway.

It was harder to hold on to that strange comfort when training actually started and you had to go to Real Madrid’s training center every day. Most days were spent attempting to do your best and keep your negative emotions in check, while thinking nonstop about how much you hated this, how much you wanted to return to Atelti, how much you wanted to leave Madrid altogether.

So all in all you weren’t having the best time, barely getting by was actually a more accurate way to describe it. Then a few weeks after the season started you got a call from Lola.

“Sooo I heard you’re doing a lot of moping these days,” she teased you.

However there was an underlying note of worry in her voice. You had done your best to pretend as if Atleti’s decision hadn’t hurt you, that these things happen in football, and you were completely fine with it, but Lola had seen right through it.

“I’m not moping, I’m just quiet and focused like usual,” you quickly defended yourself. It was only partially true, you hated every single second you spent at the training center of Real Madrid.

“That’s not what I’ve heard, but how about you convince me over a cup of coffee. Maybe tomorrow afternoon?”

You didn’t even question how Lola knew that you had the day off tomorrow, apparently she had some spies at Real. As much as you didn’t want to continue talking about the misery that was your new club, you did want to see your friend, so you agreed.

“I might ask some other people if they want to tag along. Everyone misses you,” Lola continued, making you happy and sad at the same time. It was nice to be missed, but you wished you weren’t in a position where you could be missed.

Before you could hang up, Lola told you to bring “your moping buddy Misa”, then she ended the call with a cackle, not giving you any chance to retaliate. In all honesty there was some truth to it, both you and Misa were unhappy at Real, so it wasn’t surprising that she was the only person you had really bonded with so far.

Going by Lola’s words you expected a big group the next day when you entered the café you had agreed upon. What you found however were merely three people, Lola, Misa and no one other than Ana.

Suddenly your stomach was filled with butterflies flapping their wings wildly, making you somewhat nauseous as a result. You hadn’t expected this and you weren’t prepared for it at all. If it wouldn’t have been incredibly rude you would have walked right back out of the café.

Instead you walked over to the small group, doing your best impression of a friendly smile. You could have sworn you saw a knowing glint in both Misa’s and Lola’s eyes. There was no way they knew about your crush though, right?

Lola jumped up when she saw you, hugging you tightly. “It’s good to see you, chica, I’ve missed you,” she told you.

You had to blink a couple of times to chase away the tears burning in your eyes. There was no denying that you had missed her too, all of your former teammates really. You longed to be back at Atlético, and not only because Ana was there.

Right, Ana.

You extracted yourself from your friend and smiled at the blonde. Should you hug her as well? Or greet her with kisses on the cheeks? That’s exactly why you should have been informed that Ana would be there, so that you could think this over beforehand. Or, well, over think it.

Unlike you Ana knew exactly what to do; she got up, greeted you kindly and gave you a quick hug. “It’s nice to see you again, Y/N. We’ve never had much of a chance to talk, so I’m glad we get one now.”

For a few seconds too long you started at her. You were torn between awe, and a little bit of envy, at how easily the Swiss woman had navigated this greeting, and shock. She remembered you? She was happy to see you? Once your heart slowed down from a wild canter to a moderate gallop and your brain was working more clearly again, you realized that this was probably just something Ana had said to make the situation less awkward, not something she truly meant.

“So, do you want to sit down?” Lola suggested with a smirk on her face. Thankfully she left it at that though and you quickly sank down into a chair. You felt too embarrassed to look at Ana, so you completely missed the reassuring smile she sent your way.

After that things went much more smoothly, mostly because Lola and Ana carried the conversation, allowing you and Misa to remain in your preferred role, attentive listener. Your former teammate as well as your crush tried valiantly to draw you out of your shell, but out of fear of saying something stupid, you kept your answers as short as possible without being weird or unfriendly. If only you could think of something witty to say!

On the bright side your relative quietness gave you a good opportunity to study Ana. She was stunning as always, but you could easily spot the signs of the toll this move to the Atlético had taken on her; her smile wasn’t quite as wide as usual and didn’t reach her eyes, her voice was a little duller, there were badly covered up dark bags underneath her eyes and she was a bit more subdued than normal  in general. Man, you really had spent way too long looking at any video of her you could find to notice things like that!

Then all of the sudden Misa let out a gasp. “I completely forgot I promised my neighbor I’d let in her daughter today. I need to leave right now to make it.”

You frowned at your teammate; it wasn’t like her to forget something as important as that. Was something more than her unhappiness with being stuck at Real bothering her? You made a mental note to ask Misa about it the next day, remind her that you were always there if she needed someone.

Misa’s departure didn’t really change anything in the dynamic, she hadn’t contributed much just like you. But then Lola got a phone call from her girlfriend who apparently needed your former teammate urgently. She looked at the two of you apologetically, however you could swear that there was some glee shimmering behind her regretful front.

“You girls should stay here and enjoy the rest of the afternoon. Really I’m so sorry about this, don’t let it ruin your day,” Lola babbled, pressing a kiss to both your and Ana’s cheek before dashing out of the café.

You looked after her with confusion. The confusion however was short-lived, quickly drowned out by panic once you realized that you were now left alone with Ana. No more hiding behind other people, no more safety net. You weren’t ready. However leaving also wasn’t an option, there was no way you could do so without offending Ana, so you had to pull yourself together.

“I’m sorry about that,” Ana apologized, bringing your confusion back. As far as you were aware the Swiss woman had absolutely nothing to apologize for.

“They probably planned this because they think I need to be more social again. I wouldn’t be surprised if Jenni put them up to it, she’s been pretty worried,” the Swiss woman specified, leaving you reeling because you didn’t know how to deal with that much honesty.

“Oh,” you replied, praying that some more words would enter your brain. “Maybe they also did it for me. They think I’m pretty antisocial in general,” you finished, kicking yourself for making yourself look even more pathetic than you already did.

To your surprise Ana didn’t seem put off; on the contrary she chuckled and said, “Well we can be antisocial together then.”

The Swiss woman using the word ‘together’ in reference to the both of you made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, you could definitely get used to that.

In an attempt to take control of the situation and not end up blurting out something stupid if Ana asked you a question, you inquired how she was liking Madrid so far. It seemed like a normal thing to ask someone that had just moved to a new place.

However the Swiss woman didn’t answer right away, which was atypical for her who always seemed to have a reply ready. That combined with the guarded look in her eyes made you realize that this wasn’t a safe and easy topic for her. In your rush to make sure nothing that would be complicated for you came up, you had totally forgotten that Ana’s own move to Madrid had been anything but a happy occurence. Way to be selfish!

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Forget I said anything, that was such a stupid thing to say,” you apologized frantically

“No, don’t worry, it’s fine,” Ana quickly reassured you. “I just don’t really know what to say. Obviously I didn’t want to come here, I miss Barcelona. Both the city and the team. So I’m not having the best time to be completely honest. Then again I also haven’t given Madrid much of a chance yet. So…”

The Swiss woman’s openness left you stunned once again. This could never be you, sharing your thoughts and feelings so freely. At the same time you noticed with a surge of excitement and dread that Ana’s explanation gave you a good opening, not unlike your daydreams in fact.

Your fear of being annoying and overstepping was battling hard against your longing to get to spend more time with the blonde in the future. In the end you decided to go for it, maybe Ana would appreciate it and if she didn’t want to hang out again, she could just say so. Of course there was still the fear of rejection holding you back, but you shoved that to the back of your mind. If you didn’t ask the answer would always be no, right?

“If you want to I could show you around Madrid sometime. I’ve lived here all my life so I know the place like the back of my hand and know some nice places. Totally fine if you don’t of course, I’m sure there are many other people that could show you around.”

You spoke in record speed, making it hard for Ana to follow, which was why it took her a moment to answer. These few seconds were some of the most horrible ones in your life. If she said no now all your hopes would be shattered once and for all. Everyone always said it was important to know so you could move on, but honestly if the Swiss woman didn’t want to spend any time with you, you didn’t want to know.

“That sounds great, I’d love to,” Ana replied once she had enough time to process your jumble of words.

“Really?” You double checked, the words out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

“Yeah, definitely,” the Swiss woman confirmed with a gentle smile. A smile that you returned happily. You hadn’t felt this excited in a while, it was a nice change from the bleakness that had become your constant companion.

The rest of your time together was spent chatting easily. You weren’t a great conversationalist, however with Ana it came much more natural. The blonde definitely did the heavy lifting, but you were happy with your own contributions. You even made her laugh a few times!

Later that day when you were back in your apartment you were much more critical, taking apart every single thing that you had said and coming to the conclusion that you must be the stupidest person on the planet. Thankfully you were going to get another chance in a few days and this time you would be better prepared. You would say interesting things and you would make sure Ana had a great time. The blonde deserved some joy and happiness and you would do your best to give her that.

Before your next meeting with Ana you actually made a plan; you would make a list of her interests and think of possible questions, some jokes and interesting facts you could mention. You spent one evening on it, working furiously and then you realized what you were doing, feeling very foolish all of the sudden. You scrunched up the piece of paper and threw it into the trash with some force.

This was pointless and unnecessary and totally embarrassing! Maybe you weren’t the best at coming up with things to say on the spot, but rehearsing everything like this was a role in a play was stupid. The urge to do absolutely everything to get Ana to like you was huge, however is she only liked this carefully crafted version of you that wasn’t any better than her not liking you at all.

Also, you shouldn’t even attempt to get the Swiss woman to like you. Just like you should keep your own crush in check. Ana’s life was complicated enough at the moment, you didn’t need to add your infatuation into the mix.

Unfortunately your noble plan to ignore your crush failed miserably. Whenever you spent time with Ana you fell a little more for her. It was simply impossible not to when she was the kindest, funniest, most interesting and on top of that most beautiful person in the world.

Like when you were out and about on one of your strolls to the city and a young couple approached you, asking if you could take a picture of them. As was typical for you, you hesitated for a moment; not necessarily because you didn’t want to, but because your mind was already working in overdrive, supplying you with every possible negative outcome.

Ana on the other hand smiled at them. “Of course! Where do you want to take it?”

And then she proceeded to take several pictures of the two, showing them to the couple, and when they weren’t completely satisfied yet, she even offered her own suggestions on how they might turn out even better.

All the way you were just watching them, well mostly Ana, with a goofy smile. You loved how much she cared, how much effort she put into random people she didn’t even know. No wait, you didn’t love that, you liked that, admired it.

Or when Ana convinced you to go into a tiny café. A place you would have never frequented on your own because the intimacy of it freaked you out. Not the blonde though. Within seconds she began chatting with the owner, a middle-aged woman who was thrilled someone showed so much interest in her small establishment.

The cake you got was very tasty as was the coffee and the homemade ice tea. You were quick to admit that Ana had made a good decision by forcing you to go there.

However what really pulled at your heartstring was that the Swiss woman went up to the owner afterwards and asked if it was okay to post about this place on Instagram. The poor woman almost started crying out of happiness and thanked Ana profusely, while the blonde kept insisting that this was nothing and really it should be her thanking the owner.

So it was safe to say that you fell deeper and harder every time you saw Ana. But it was okay, you had a foolproof way to make sure that the blonde didn’t figure it out and therefore her life didn’t get disrupted because of you. Whenever you echoed a statement Ana had made about how much she liked hanging out with you or that she thought you were a great person, you always added ‘friend’ into the mix; “I enjoy hanging out with you too, you’re such a great friend.” and “Aw thank you. You’re one of the best people and friends I know too!”

Sometimes when you were feeling particularly hopeful you wondered if the lack of specification on Ana’s part meant that she liked you as more than a friend. You always discarded the idea quickly though. It was much more likely that the thought of being more than friends was so ludicrous to the blonde, something that had probbly never even grazed her mind, that she didn’t feel the need to explicitly state it.

Despite having to resign yourself to the fact that Ana didn’t like you like that, it still made you happy that she was usually in a good mood when you were hanging out. Something you were secretly very proud of. Still every once in a while her sadness shined through, for example when she heard someone speak Catalan or when she saw something that reminded her of Barcelona.

One time a group of fans came up to her. They were friendly and excited and the Swiss woman matched their energy effortlessly. But then one of them mentioned how sad they were that Ana wasn’t playing for Barça anymore. You were forced to watch the blonde deflate slightly after that thoughtless statement. She was good at pretending though, so the fans were none the wiser.

When they were gone you gathered all of your courage. Up until now you had stayed in the shallows of easy conversation so this was a first and once again you worried about overstepping. But when you saw Ana’s sad eyes and the forcefully pulled up corners of her mouth, you couldn’t stay silent.

“Do you want to talk about it? I mean your transfer from Barça? I know we haven’t really talked about that or othe serious things yet, but I’m always happy to listen. I’m actually pretty good at that.”

The Swiss woman sighed, rubbing a hand over her face.

“That’s very sweet but honestly I’ve been talking so much about it lately. Sometimes it feels like it’s the only thing anyone wants to talk about anymore. So if it’s okay with you could we just continue like before? The distraction has been helping a lot.”

You had been helping! Happiness flowed through you and your smile was maybe a bit bigger than was warranted for a situation like this. However unless Ana was studying you as intently as you always studied her, you doubted that the blonde would notice.

“Yeah, of course. I’m happy to help in anyway.”

Ana and you kept seeing each other regularly and it was the undisputed highlight of your current life. Honestly it was a little worrying how few other things brought you any joy, but you didn’t allow yourself to dwell on that.

So when you were put into a situation where you had to cancel on Ana you were devastated. It wasn’t an appropriate reaction to something so small, but you had a ten minute crying session until you could even begin to function properly again. Calling the Swiss woman was out of the question though, you were still chocked up and sniffling.

Instead you texted her, apologizing multiple times and explaining that you were roped into doing all sorts of things last minute for your father’s birthday tomorrow. You could have slapped yourself for not seeing this coming. Sure, your parents had assured you time and time again that everything was taken care of, but you should have known better. Then you could have done it before today and weren’t forced to cancel on Ana.

Only minutes after you had sent the text your phone started ringing with a call from the Swiss woman. With wide, panicked eyes you stared at the screen. In the end your desire to at least hear Ana’s voice if you couldn’t see her won out. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice anything.

 „Hey I just saw your text and wanted to ask if I can help out with anything.”

You smiled at your phone, your heart warmed by Ana’s kindness. There was no doubt in your mind that she would actually follow through on your offer. Not that you would ever take it.

“Aw thank you so much, Ana! But it’s okay really. Most things I have to do at my parents place anyway. You know help them clean and decorate. So I’ll be out most of the day, and then in the evening I’ll have to bake the cake. Who knows how that’s going to go.”

You chuckled, even if you were feeling slightly panicked at the idea of baking. Normally your mother was in charge of that, but she had broken her arm a few weeks ago, so that was out of the question. Moments like this made you wish that you had some siblings or some cousins for that matter, just anyone to help you out.

“Not to brag, but I’m actually a great baker. So if you want some help, I’m happy to come over in the evening and help,” the blonde offered.

It would be nice to have some help, and you always wanted to see Ana. Plus she had brought up the idea of her own accord, so surely it was okay, right?

“That would be great actually. Thank you so much,” you replied, not giving your mind any more opportunity to drive yourself crazy.

Ana and you quickly planned everything out before you hung up and left to do everything else. With the prospect of seeing the Swiss woman later today you were a lot more cheerful than before.

“What’s got you so happy?” Your mother asked you while she supervised the decorating process.

It was incredibly frustrating since she kept criticizing everything you did. Every few minutes you had to step away for a moment, take some deep breaths and visualize how your evening with Ana would be, full of laughter and fun conversation.

“Not this, that’s for sure,” you muttered, low enough so that your mothers whose hearing wasn’t the best anymore, couldn’t here you.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you said louder, “I’m just in a good mood, I guess.”

There was no point in bringing up Ana. Nothing would ever happen between the two of you and even after knowing about it for almost ten years your parents still struggled with your sexuality. To avoid unnecessary conflict and awkwardness you never spoke about women you liked unless it was something serious. So never.

“You should focus on decorating and not smile so much. Maybe then we would get somewhere.”

You rolled your eyes, but kept your mouth shut. No point in pointing out that most parents would be happy if their child was happy. And it wasn’t like your mother wasn’t happy about it, she just wasn’t good at being pleasant around you. Somehow she always felt the need to criticize you.

Hours later you got into your car, quickly drove away and as soon as you were a decent distance from your parents’ house you let out a loud scream, releasing all of the built up frustration. Then you set your focus on the near future, on the fact that you would be meeting Ana in half an hour at your apartment. Baking wasn’t really your thing, but baking with the Swiss sounded like a lot of fun. Anything was fun with her really; just being around her made you so happy.

When you got to your apartment Ana was already waiting for you, leaning against her car. A big smile appeared on the blonde’s face when she saw you and she waved at you happily. It warmed your insides, swept away any remnant of frustration from the long day with your parents, seeing how excited Ana was to see you.

You got set up quickly, putting out all the ingredients and opening up the recipe you had settled on. Then you turned to the Swiss woman expectantly.

“So any baking pro tips from you before we start?” You asked teasingly.

Ana looked at you sheepishly.

“To be completely honest I don’t really know that much about baking. I usually only bake once a year to make some Christmas cookie,” the blonde admitted, scratching her nose.

You frowned at her in confusion. This didn’t really make any sense to you, but you didn’t want to make Ana feel bad about it.

“So why did you say you did?” You asked carefully. „I mean only if you want to tell me, it’s totally fine if you don’t. I’m sure you had your reasons.”

The Swiss woman blushed a little as she explained herself, “I really just wanted to spend some time with you today.”

Your heart started racing at this confession, your hopes going through the roof.  It didn’t take long for the logical part of your brain to bring you back to earth though. Surely this didn’t mean what you wanted it to mean. Most likely Ana was just struggling today and didn’t want to be alone.

“Oh I’m sorry you’re having a hard time today. You know you can always tell me that and if it’s possible at all I’ll always make time for you. You don’t have to make up reasons to hang out.”

Ana stared at you with a pained expression. It hurt your heart to see her in pain and it made you wonder if something had happened today, perhaps something that reminded her of Barcelona?

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked when the blonde stayed quiet, but then you thought better of it. “Wait no I’m sorry, you already said that you’re tired of talking about it before and that you prefer a distraction. So let’s bake!”

You put some extra excitement into your voice and made sure to keep up a stream of easy chatter as you got to work. For a while Ana remained a bit distant and quiet, but before too long her smile returned and she began talking and joking.

When the blonde laughed loudly at a joke you had made you felt very proud of yourself for giving Ana what she needed, a distraction. If you continued to be helpful she would keep wanting to hang out with you and that was also very much in your interest. Even if the knowledge that it meant something else to you hurt somewhat every time you thought of it.

However it was all worth it to get to spend time with Ana. Everything was worth that.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #ana maria crnogorcevic imagine #ana maria crnogorcevic x reader

[pupuyvs]

38

Jihye breathed out once again as she stood in front of Chaewon’s house, more so mansion, door.

“You are a bad bitch now,” she whispered to herself, “bad bitches don’t get nervous.” She has been saying this mantra over and over again for the past 3 minutes, trying to work herself up to knock on the door.

As she raises her hand to finally do it, the door opens revealing Chaewon, who was clearly amused and slightly weirded out.

The mantra immediately slipped her mind at the sight of the other girl, she forgot just how pretty Chaewon was.

“Are you just going to keep standing there or?…”

Jihye blushed, ashamed she was caught. “My bad, can I come in?”

Chaewon nodded before stepping to the side to let the other girl in. As soon as Jihye stepped in she knew she had greatly underestimated just how rich the cheerleader actually was.

See, she knew Chaewon was dirty rich, everyone in school did, her parents owned properties in nearly every continent, their house was a literal mansion spanning for what seemed miles. But it wasn’t until Jihye walked in to see a chandelier half her size hanging above a fountain in the entryway, that she realized she could never truly conceptualize someone being this rich.

The longer she took in every detail of the foyer, the more uncomfortable she began to feel. Jihye felt herself start to stiffen, any bravery she felt earlier was gone, how could she feel brave when she felt she was bringing down the value of the house by just breathing in it.

Before she could spiral even more she was pulled out of her thoughts by a pair of slippers hitting her foot.

“Wear these, my mom hates shoes on the floor when they’re freshly polished.”

Jihye nods as she slips off her used Converse and puts on the fresh, clearly new, slippers.

“Where should I put my shoes?”

Chaewon looks at the girl, amused before pointing to the shoe stand by the door.

“Right,” Jihye says bashfully.

While putting her shoes in one of the cubbies she catches a glimpse of her slippers and furrows her eyebrows, “Are these…Chanel?…”

Looking up from her newly done acrylics, she looks at the slippers before simply nodding.

“Right, cool.”

Chaewon sighed, “Are we just going to continue standing here or?…”

“No, sorry, where's the pc?”

Without saying anything Chaewon started walking up one of the stairways causing Jihye to rush to follow her.

As they passed by door after door Jihye could feel the discomfort make its way back up.

Distracted, Jihye doesn’t notice Chaewon stopping, causing her to bump into her.

Quickly stepping back, she whispers a sorry. Chaewon doesn’t say anything as she opens a door. “This is my sister’s room, she’s the one with the…whatever you called it.”

Jihye nods as she steps in, immediately she walks to the desk and attempts to turn the computer on. She furrows her eyebrows slightly when nothing happens. She gets down, under the desk, to check the wires and becomes even more confused when she notices it's not even plugged in. Before she can plug it back in, Chaewon speaks, causing her to jump up and bump her head on the desk.

“So Jihye, are you seeing anyone?”

Bumping her head once more from shock as she quickly gets out from under the desk, hand rubbing the back of her head, she looks at Chaewon once she stands, “What?”

“Are you seeing anyone,” Chaewon asks again, this time making eye contact with Jihye.

Feeling shy, Jihye immediately sits down in the computer chair and turns its so she's no longer facing the girl.

“No, I’m not,” she says as she turns the computer on, this time successfully.

“Not even that Heejin girl?”

“Heejin? No, we’re just friends on Twitter.”

She hears the other hum as the computer finally loads, Jihye clicks on the first user she sees, relieved that there is no password.

As she starts to search the computer for any issues Chaewon starts again, “I just find it hard to believe you really don’t have anyone, I mean even Natty seems interested.”

Jihye clears her throat, “Does she? I haven’t even noticed.”

She doesn’t see the wide smile that takes over Chaewon’s face when she hears that, she also doesn’t see Chaewon purposely get closer to the chair.

“You haven’t?”

Jihye stiffens once more when she hears how close Chaewon is now, “No.”

“That’s good.”

The taller girl doesn’t respond, instead she grips the mouse tighter and continues to search the computer, after a few moments she turns the chair to face Chaewon backing up when she sees just how close the girl is.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, it’s actually perfect.”

Chaewon nods slightly before putting a hand on both armrests and leaning down so she could be face to face with the girl, “I know,” she simply states.

Jihye gulps, inhaling the faint scent of vanilla, she lets out a shaky breath, “Then why?…”

Chaewon simply glances down at her lips before licking her own and starting to lean in.

“Chaewon what-”

Before anything can happen, the door opens revealing a tall, but young looking girl.

“Ewww Chae, what are you doing in my room?”

Chaewon backs away with a groan, while Jihye lets out a sigh of relief.

What the fuck is happening?

Chaewon rolled her eyes for what must’ve been the 20th time that day. Just an hour ago she was about to kiss the nerd she’s had her eyes on for about a month, now she’s sitting on a bean bag in her sister’s gaming room as they, her sister and Jihye, play some stupid game together.

She knows it was probably for the best that they got interrupted since she was moving quite fast, but could anyone blame Chaewon.

She was born and raised rich, whatever she wanted she would get, and what she wants is Jihye so forgive her for not taking things slowly. The truth is she wasn’t even planning on attempting to kiss Jihye when she invited her over, she simply wanted to see if she could stand to be in the same proximity as her, ask if she was single, not that that would’ve stopped her if she wasn’t, and maybe even tease her a bit.

But stupid, dumb, cute, attractive Jihye showed up looking cute in her stupid letterman, that Chaewon definitely is planning to steal when, not if because she will make sure it happens, they get together. The feeling of want only got worse when she was so clearly nervous entering her house, but what really set her off was the girl's voice.

Chaewon never knew she could be attracted to a voice, she never was before with Yena or Yeonjun, but Jihye’s voice had a slight rasp to it and was on the deeper side, when she first spoke Chaewon knew she had to have her to herself.

“You’re cheating!”

Chaewon brought her eyes up to see her sister, Eunchae, throw her controller down while Jihye laughed, causing Chaewon's heart to embarrassingly flutter.

“How could I be cheating, we are on your Switch. Are you saying you have cheats installed on this?”

Eunchae gasped, “What- Are you accusing ME of cheating?”

Jihye pretended to think for a bit before nodding, “Yeah, I am!”

Before Eunchae could argue back, Jihye's phone started to ring. Quickly taking it out of her pocket to look at the caller, she winced once she saw who it was.

“I gotta take this, I’ll be right back, don’t add anymore cheats while I’m gone,” she says as she walks out the room, Eunchae quickly sticking her tongue out at her.

As soon as the door closed Chaewon turns to Eunchae, “You’re ruining everything.”

Eunchae rolled her eyes, “What are you even talking about? Did you forget you were the one in my room?”

Chaewon groaned lightly, maybe pretending that Eunchae’s computer needed a fix wasn’t the smartest idea.

“Plus, Jihye’s too cool for you, go back to losers like Yena or whatever.”

Chaewon glared, “Too cool? Seriously?”

The younger nodded, “Absolutely.”

Chaewon didn’t bother with a response; she was not going to go back and forth with her 16 year old sister about her love life.

They both turned their heads when the door opened again only to see Jihye with a disappointed look, “That was my sister, I need to go pick her up.”

Both Kim sisters groan, both for very different reasons. “I was just about to beat you.”

Jihye laughs, “Sure you were. How about this, I’ll add you when I get home and we’ll go against each other later.”

Eunchae nods happily, clearly okay with the deal.

Chaewon stands as Jihye goes to leave the room again, “I’ll walk you out.”

Jihye shakes her head, “You don’t have to, I’m sure there's other things you have to do.”

“Yeah, like yelling at Yeonjun,” Eunchae adds, earning another glare from Chaewon.

“I don’t, come on.”

With that Chaewon walks out leaving Jihye to wave one last time at Eunchae before following the other.

When they reached the front door Jihye carefully slipped off the expensive home slippers. Holding them in her hand she looked at Chaewon, “Where should I put them?”

“Take them.”

Jihye looked at her with disbelief, “Take them? These are Chanel.”

“I know that,” Chaewon started, “My mom is ordering new house slippers from Frette.”

“Right, of course.”

Jihye didn’t say anything after that, she quickly changed into her Converse and turned to Chaewon.

“Before I leave I wanted to thank you for planning the date for my sister and Yizhuo, I’ve been wanting them to get together for a bit so it's cool you thought of that.”

Chaewon nodded, “No problem, thanks for coming to fix my sister’s thing, and then playing with her. Though I really hoped to get you alone.”

“Oh, maybe next time we can hang,” Jihye says as she opens the door and steps out.

Chaewon smiled, she got her right where she wanted her, “Sounds like a date then.” Before Jihye could respond Chaewon closed the door.

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#lesserafim smau #le sserafim fanfic #le sserafim smau #le sserafim imagines #le sserafim x reader #kim chaewon #chaewon smau #chaewon imagines #chaewon x reader #chaewon #fem oc #huh yunjin #yunjin #nakamura kazuha #kazuha #kpop smau #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #ive #aespa #itzy #choi yeonjun #mark lee #park wonbin #choi yena #🧸aus #goal!

[deoidesign]

Happy webcomics day!!!

I'm not home (on a trip right now with family), but I still want to talk a little bit about my process, so I did what I could to find some wip shots 🧡

Plus, I'd also like to update my extremely patient readers with a little taste of what's to come!!!

Step one, of course, is writing.

When I'm writing I have four documents open. A "dump" document, a "yes this!" Document, an outline document, and a drawing canvas!

In the dump document, I put ANYTHING. complete stream of consciousness. The 'yes this' document is where I put anything useful from the dump document, and the outline is, of course, the outline. The drawing canvas is for me to sketch out problems and ideas and get sort of a different angle on things, since I can't really visualize.

Once I have a book completely written, I start thumbnailing!

My thumbnails pretty much look like this. Text, sketchy poses, indications of expression and maybe environment...

I thumbnail the entire book at once. I don't let myself do any edits on it until it's done, but I take note of edits I'd like to make! Then, once the first draft is out, I edit.

I'll move entire scenes, delete whole episodes, bring in bits from the end to have proper foreshadowing... Etc! It's a long process that makes my arcs feel much more complete and something I can be really proud of.

I can only do this when I'm really ahead, though, so that's why I've been on a long hiatus!!! I was forced to work without my process for a few arcs, and the difference is so huge to me that I refuse to let myself do it again. It makes a loner hiatus, but work way more worth waiting for!

Next step is lineart!

Yes, I skip sketches! I go right into lines.

I save every head I've ever drawn, and that lets me copy paste in a basic head angle. Then I redo the face, fix up the hair, etc. so it fits my panel, and then I draw the rest of the body!

This seriously saves me so much time, but less so for the drawing (i still draw a ton of heads and I'm very fast) and more just for helping me skip sketching entirely!

Then I do character flats, which since all my lines are closed that goes pretty quickly (slowest part is Steve's hair, I refuse to use a brush cause every one I've made looks terrible!!!)

And then I draw the backgrounds!

Which, I keep layered, clean, and HUGE so I can use them throughout the arc.

I used to feel bad doing this, but then I realized... It's not like backgrounds "change" irl. So why make them change in my comics...? It saves me so much time, but it ALSO lets me put in more detail per background! I draw probably 3 very large backgrounds per episode like this, and then I draw maybe 5-10 unique backgrounds for single panels per episode as well. I save these too, but they're rarely re-used.

And then my panels are done!!!

So there's a bit of my process for you all!!!

Happy webcomics day 🧡🧡🧡

And here's my comic, if you haven't read it and want to see the end result of this process, or if you have read it and would enjoy a re-read with the extra knowledge:

Or, if you would prefer books I have those too!

Happy to elaborate on any step, as well!

I make comics extremely quickly and as my full time job, and my process allows me to easily manipulate my format as well. I'm happy to share any of my knowledge if you have questions!!!

#webcomics day #webcomicday #webcomic day #time and time again #webcomics #webtoon #webtoon originals #ttawebcomic #art process #writing process #my art #comic #my comic #comic process

[midastouch-zaza]

Freeuse Gahyeon. Sorry I can't be more eloquent, I just fucking need her getting fucked whenever-wherever.

You are not that type of boy who consider himself a "god in the bed" or similar, sure, you had some good perfomance, but you never expected to brainrot someone after fucking her too good, especially if that someone was an idol.

Now, for idols from less famous group is easier to date and have fun with less pubblic pression; and the situation of dreamcatcher was just perfect for that: big popularity overseas and way less in their country. No wonder that Gahyeon was so chill about approaching you in the club.

Probably the emotion of having sex with an artist you like made you overperform, keeping her awake all night, dicking her down until the first lights of the morning hit her body completely covered in sweat and your cum. So in the end she stayed at your home to sleep.

You didn't expect, when you woke up, to find her in the kitchen, making your breakfast still naked. "Good afternoon, Oppa, come eat something, you need to recover after last night", she said kindly, placing the food on the table. You were about to take the first bite when you felt your boxer being pulled down.

"Good morning to you too", she spoke to your shaft, kissing it passionately before engulfing it in her mouth. After cumming so much times last night, you had to grab the table to contain yourself, before eventually shooting your seed in her throat.

"Mmm, delicious, exactly like yesterday", she commented, resting her head on your thighs while looking at you with crazy and lustful eyes. Eventually she got dressed and left your house, but not before being sure her number was saved in your phone.

"Call me when you need to fuck. Or even when you want to fap. Or when if you're bored. I'm always ready to take that dick", she warned you, groping your genitals a last time and giving you a kiss on the cheek, before disappearing in the elevator.

Having to call someone everytime you were horny seemed like a burden, but why do not give it try? And that's exactly what you did, sending her a text two days later. "Oh my good, finally. I'm on my way", she texted you back.

And as if by magic, ten minutes later she was in front of your door, wearing just clothes quick to remove: an adherent t-shirt, enhancing her big boobs, a real short skirt, that was showing her booty cheeks, and flip-flop a, easy to kick away.

But the most important detail, that would have been constant in all your future meeting, was the had not on any bra or panty. You had just to lift her skirt and push it in whatever hole you preferred that time.

"Use me like a slut, Oppa, this body is your toy", she reminded you, shaking happily your ass, ready to take your full lenght. And you did: pushing roughly your fat cock in the ass of that hungry slut, ready to service you.

You were just ravaging her ass and she was loving every moment of it, drooling with her mouth open in the most nasty face. "Fuck me, this cock owns me, every single part of me is yours", she was screaming feeling your dick rearranging her guts.

And they way her holes always clenched so tightly around you, milking you out, not even a single drop could be wasted. But it doesn't matter if you had just finished to fuck her, she was immediately to go again, everything to have your cock inside.

Sometimes you were too tired to do anything, so you just asked her to whorship your member. From such a simple request she would go completely crazy: stroking your cock so fast that you had to stop her because your brain was not able to process so much pleasure.

Then she would have sucked your cock, and you could swear that now your dick was more inside her that in your underwear; the following step would have been a titjob, making the space between all boobs all sticky.

And in the end her favorite part: bouncing on your cock until her pussy would take the form of your girth. Letting you cum so much inside her that you start to think she has a breeding kink, because every time her tummy is so full.

#kpop smut #kpop thoughts #girl group smut #kpop x male reader #girl groups x male reader #dreamcatcher x male reader #dreamcatcher smut #dreamcatcher gahyeon #gahyeon smut #gahyeon x male reader

[its-avalon-08]

Amoreeee!

i love ur works and i have a very specific reuqest in mind. this is too detailed so please feel free to ditch a few details because im aware its too much. this is a mv1 x senna!daughter one.

max is hard racing some driver and he gets angry and flustered and he crashes because he act irresponsibly. y/n's heart stops because the way the car rotated and hit the barrier refletced her late father's passing.

her breath stops, max is ok but gp IS ANGRY at him because that could have been easily avoided. max is not hurt at all.

he is still angry when he comes back into the motor home. and then y/n gives him a cold shoulder and doesnt speak to him.

this makes max angrier leading to a passive aggressive arguement. max says something which leads y/n to say "fine then, fuck off and die see if i care" max is shcoked and so is everyonbe else in the motorhome

when she rushes out in tears she bumps into carlos/charles/lando and he comforts her and she says "i never shouldve said that"

they make up, hapoy ending make it extra emotional.

LOVE UR WORKS!

i have to confess, i love this one the most out of everything i've ever written. its extra extra long, and the anon messaged me and asked me to add a few more things, so i have done the same! anon ily ! (edit - i messed up the translation! its been fixed now!!) enjoy reading <3

coração valente (mv1) (brave heart)

find the headcannon here!

The roar of the engine was a dull thrum in Y/N's ears as she watched the battle unfold on the screen. Max was locked in a fierce fight for position with Esteban Ocon. Every aggressive lunge, every desperate attempt to overtake sent a tremor of unease through her. It was too reminiscent, too close to the edge.

Then, disaster struck. Ocon made a late move, and Max, fueled by frustration and a competitive fire, reacted impulsively. He swerved to block him, the car losing traction as it took the corner too tightly. The world slowed down as Y/N watched in horror. The Red Bull spun, a sickening ballet of red and blue against the asphalt, before slamming into the barrier with a sickening crunch.

Her breath hitched, a choked sob escaping her lips. The way the car crumpled, the dust cloud mirroring the crash that stole her father… the memory flooded back, vivid and terrifying. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drum solo threatening to burst through her chest.

Thankfully, the medical team rushed to the scene, and the relief was almost a physical blow. Max emerged from the wreckage, shaken but unharmed. But the reprimand from Horner was swift and brutal. "Unnecessary risk, Verstappen! You could have avoided that entirely!"

By the time Max stormed back into the motorhome, his anger was a palpable presence. He tossed his helmet onto the couch, the thud echoing in the tense silence. Y/N sat by the window, her back to him, a cold, hard wall where warmth and concern usually resided.

"Great job out there," Max spat, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Another brilliant strategy by Horner, putting all the pressure on me."

Y/N remained silent. Her silence was a punishment, far worse than any raised voice. Max, already on edge, bristled.

"You gonna say something, genius?" he snapped. "Or are you just gonna sit there like a statue?" Y/N turned a deaf ear to that.

The air in the motorhome felt thick enough to chew on. Y/N sat at the table, meticulously organizing spare race parts, a pointed silence radiating from her. Max hovered by the coffee machine, his usual swagger dampened by a heavy frown.

Christian Horner, ever the mediator, attempted to lighten the mood. "So, Max," he boomed, "what are we learning from this little spin?"

Max, bristling at the reminder, mumbled a vague response about tire strategy. Y/N, without looking up, chimed in, "Perhaps a lesson in spatial awareness wouldn't go amiss."

The air crackled. Max whipped his head towards her, his jaw clenched. "Oh, and who's the expert on spatial awareness, Miss Never-Been-On-The-Track?"

Y/N slammed a wrench down a little too hard, the metallic clang echoing in the tense silence. "There's a difference between calculated risk and reckless driving," she retorted, her voice laced with ice.

Max scoffed. "Spoken like someone who's never felt the pressure of a championship on their shoulders."

Y/N's eyes narrowed. "Pressure doesn't excuse stupidity, Max," she said, her voice clipped.

Horner cleared his throat, his booming voice a desperate attempt to break the ice. "Look, let's all take a moment to cool down. We can dissect the crash later. Right now, Max needs a clear head for the next race."

With that, Horner steered Max towards a debriefing session, leaving Y/N alone in the charged atmosphere. She picked up a stray bolt, turning it over in her hand, her knuckles white with repressed anger. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the workshop around her.

Just then, Charles walked in, his perceptive eyes catching the glint of tears on her cheeks. "Rough day?" he asked softly.

Y/N choked back a sob. "It's just… I don't know if I can watch him race anymore," she confessed, her voice thick with emotion.

Charles pulled up a chair beside her, his presence a silent comfort. "You know Max," he said gently. "He makes mistakes, but he learns from them."

Y/N shook her head. "This wasn't just a mistake, Charles. It was reckless. And it brought back…" she trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Charles squeezed her shoulder in understanding. "The fear," he finished for her. "It's always there, isn't it?"

Y/N nodded, a tear escaping and tracing a path down her cheek. "I can't lose him too," she whispered, her voice cracking.

Charles offered a sad smile. "You won't," he assured her. "Max is stubborn, but he cares about you. He'll learn from this."

His words offered a glimmer of hope. Y/N knew Charles was right. But the fear, the raw terror that had gripped her during the crash, still lingered.

Max, a whirlwind of frustration earlier, had retreated into a sullen silence. Y/N, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy, refused to acknowledge him directly. The tension crackled between them, a storm waiting to erupt.

Daniel Ricciardo, ever the peacemaker, tried to lighten the mood. "So, Max," he said, a touch too cheerfully, "what are we having for dinner? Surely Y/N has whipped up some magic in the kitchen?"

Y/N's lips twitched, but she remained focused on her phone, pretending not to hear. Max, still fuming, mumbled a curt, "I don't care."

The forced joviality died a quick death. Charles, sensing the undercurrents, offered, "Actually, I wouldn't mind ordering some takeout. How about some Indian?"

Y/N finally looked up, her voice clipped. "No, thank you, Charles. I'm not particularly hungry."

Max scoffed. "Suit yourself. More for the rest of us, then."

The passive-aggressive jabs continued throughout the evening, each veiled comment a fresh barb. Y/N praised Charles's recent qualifying performance, a clear dig at Max's reckless driving. Max, in turn, bragged about a new training program he was starting, a not-so-subtle jab at Y/N's perceived lack of understanding.

"Honestly that race was mine, Ocon fucked it up for everyone," Max proclaimed.

"Maybe," she said, her voice barely a whisper, "if you hadn't been so busy playing daredevil, you wouldn't have thrown away the race."

The words hung heavy in the air. Max felt a flicker of something cold and sharp twist in his gut. "Playing daredevil?" he scoffed. "I was out there fighting for the win!"

"At what cost?" Y/N's voice cracked, the dam of her emotions threatening to burst. "Do you even understand the fear you put me through?"

Max, for the first time, saw a glimpse of the terror that mirrored his own reckless driving. He opened his mouth to apologize, but the words wouldn't come.

The silence stretched, thick with unspoken emotions. Then, in a moment of horrifying clarity, Max blurted out, "Look, if you can't handle the pressure, maybe you should just—"

The sentence died on his lips as he saw the blood drain from Y/N's face. She stared at him, her eyes filled with a hurt so profound it took his breath away.

"Fine then," she said, her voice a choked whisper. "fuck off and die. see if i care."

The words echoed in the stunned silence. Everyone in the motorhome froze, their eyes wide with shock. Even Max, fueled by anger, felt a cold dread settle in his stomach.

Y/N didn't wait for a response. Tears streaming down her face, she bolted out of the motorhome, the slam of the door a punctuation mark to the shattered silence.

Max stared after her, a tapestry of emotions swirling within him – anger, regret, a terror that mirrored her own. He lunged after her, but Charles, who had witnessed the exchange, caught him by the arm.

"Let her go," Charles said gently, his voice laced with concern. "She needs some space."

Max sank back onto the couch, his head in his hands. "What did I do?" he rasped, the anger replaced by a crushing weight of remorse.

The atmosphere was suffocating. Everyone, even the usually jovial mechanics, seemed to walk on eggshells around the warring couple. Tears streamed down Y/N's face as she walked, the weight of the fight, the fear, and the unspoken hurt threatening to overwhelm her. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be.

The cool night air did little to soothe the burning in Y/N's eyes. She wandered away from the motorhome complex, her legs numb and directionless. The roar of the track faded behind her, replaced by the chirping of crickets and the rustling of leaves. Tears streamed down her face, carving clean tracks through the grime of the day.

Then, she saw it. Half-hidden behind a cluster of trees, a towering mural emerged from the darkness. It was a familiar image – her father, mid-corner, a determined glint in his eyes, the car a blur of yellow and green. A wave of emotions washed over her – grief, pride, and now, a searing anger.

Sinking down onto a nearby bench, Y/N found herself talking to the painted image. "Why didn't you tell me, Dad?" she choked out, her voice thick with unshed tears. "Why didn't you tell me how terrifying it would be to watch someone you love race?"

"Doesn't he understand, Dad? Doesn't he see the risk he takes? It's like he doesn't care! Doesn't care about the fear he puts me through, the terror that I relive every single time I see a car spin out of control!"

She slammed her fist against the concrete wall, a raw scream escaping her lips. The sound echoed in the quiet night, a testament to the storm raging within her. Tears streamed down her face, hot and angry.

"And then," she continued, her voice trembling, "he has the audacity to get mad at me? To act like I'm the one overreacting? Doesn't he see what his actions do? Doesn't he see what he almost took away from me today?"

Silence, except for the rustle of leaves in the night breeze. But in her mind, she could almost hear his voice, warm and reassuring. "coração valente (brave heart)," it seemed to say, the nickname he always used for her. "Fear is a part of it, but it doesn't have to control you."

Y/N wiped her eyes, a flicker of understanding replacing the anger. Her father hadn't raced because it was easy. He raced because of the passion, the thrill, the dance with danger. He wouldn't have wanted her to live in fear, but to find her own strength, her own way to navigate the world he left behind.

The sting in his eyes wasn't just from the acrid smoke billowing from a nearby barbecue. Max's chest ached with a dull ache that had nothing to do with the crash. Y/N's words, "fine then, fuck off and die. See if I care," echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of his monumental screw-up.

He couldn't just sit there, stewing in his self-pity. He needed to find her, needed to apologize and explain the terrifying realization that had dawned on him during their tense silence.

Following a hunch, he made his way to the secluded corner where the mural of Ayrton Senna stood. In the dim glow of a single overhead light, he saw Y/N curled up with her back against the wall, her shoulders trembling with silent sobs. A red mark marred her hand where it had connected with the concrete.

His heart lurched. He knelt down beside her, his voice barely a whisper. "Y/N?"

She flinched at the sound, whipping her tear-streaked face towards him. Her eyes, red and puffy, held a storm of emotions – hurt, anger, and something akin to pleading.

Max swallowed the lump in his throat. "I… I shouldn't have said what I said," he began, his voice thick with remorse. "My anger… it clouded everything. I didn't…" He broke off, his own voice cracking.

Tears spilled down Y/N's cheeks. "And I..." she started, her voice trembling. "I never should have said what I did. It was awful, unforgivable of me." Her voice choked on a sob. "I don't… I don't want to lose you, Max. Not like that."

With a choked cry, she threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. Max held her tight, the dam breaking inside him. He pressed kisses to her hair, each one a silent apology, a promise.

"I get it now, Y/N," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I understand the fear. I see it reflected in your eyes every time I step onto the track. And I promise, I'll never do anything like that again. Not if it means putting you through that kind of pain."

They clung to each other, a tangle of limbs and broken sobs. The night air vibrated with the raw emotions they were finally releasing. Slowly, the sobs subsided into sniffles, leaving behind a fragile calm.

Max pulled back, wiping away a stray tear from Y/N's cheek with his thumb. "Let's go back," he said gently, his voice hoarse. "We can talk properly, sort things out."

Y/N nodded, her eyes searching his. "Together," she added, a shaky smile playing on her lips.

Max grinned back, the familiar spark of mischief returning to his eyes. "Always," he promised. "Together, no matter what the track throws at us."

As they walked back hand-in-hand, the mural of Ayrton Senna seemed to watch over them, a silent guardian of their love, a love forged in fire, tested by fear, and ultimately strengthened by understanding and forgiveness. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but with each other, they knew they could face anything.

#formula 1 #f1 imagine #formula one #max verstappen imagine #red bull racing #y/n #ayrton senna #senna #ayrton senna x reader #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen angst #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x y/n #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 x female reader #formula 1 x oc #requests #ava speaks #mv1 #mv1 imagine #mv1 x reader #mv33 #mv33 imagine #mv33 x reader #f1

[khaire-traveler]

This is so stupid and you probably can't but can you help me find the deity that fits me? I stopped worshipping three bc I just didn't have a bond with them

Hey, Nonny!

I'm certain I've answered a very similar question recently, but for the life of me, I can't seem to find the post. 💀 I'm just going to restate the information I remember giving, since I can't link it. I obviously can't know which deity you'll feel a connection to, but I'll give the best advice I can think of to hopefully offer you a place to start.

The first thing I'd do is make a list of things that genuinely interest you. I'm talking about hobbies, passions, inspirations, interests, topics you study - that kind of thing. After that, make a list of things you feel you need help with or would like to personally work on. Habits you'd like to stop, flaws you'd like to improve on, traits you want to strengthen, goals you want to achieve, current struggles that you're facing - that sort of thing. You can be as detailed or simple as you want; these lists don't have to be super long or fancy.

The next thing I'd do is look into the deities within the pantheon I'm interested in. Search terms like "Greek god of medicine", for example, and you're likely to find at least one result. I would try to keep your search terms broad, however; I wouldn't search up extremely niche topics. If you can't find anything under those search terms, look up a general list of the deities within that pantheon and go through them. Look at any names that seem to stick out to you more than the others. This part of the process would likely take the most time and effort.

After that, I'd make a list of the deities that interest me. Try to look at deities who are involved with the topics you enjoy or could potentially help you with whatever you want to work on. For example, let's say you enjoy writing. You may want to try reaching out to Lord Hermes, who has a domain within language and communication. You could also reach out to one of the Muses, who often aid with creative endeavors. Try finding deities that are related to the topics that you made lists for, and see what you've got.

When the list of deities is made, I'd start reaching out! Reach out to the deities who call to you the most to start. Which names stand out to you? Which deities are the most involved with your interests? Look for deities you think you'd get along well with.

I will say that it's important to remember that bonds take time to form. You're not likely to find a deity you just immediately click with; it tends to take time to form a deep and strong connection. Sometimes we do find a deity who we feel a more immediate bond with or feel called to worship, but that's not always the case, and that's entirely normal. Just like any human relationship, deity relationships develop over time with lots of care, communication, and time spent together.

The last thing I want to mention is that you're also welcome to worship deities just because you think they're cool. You don't need any other reason than that to simply reach out and say hello. Every deity I've met seems to enjoy having a worshipper who truly appreciates them. c:

I hope this is helpful and can offer you some guidance on where you can try to start! At the end of the day, this is just a suggestion, and you absolutely don't have to do things this way if you don't find it helpful. Regardless, I wish you the best of luck on this new journey. Take care, and I'm sure you'll find a deity you feel a connection to soon. Have a good day/night. 🧡

#scheduled post #anon asks #answered asks

[roseghoul26]

Chapter 9: ...And Now I'm Covered In You

Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy? Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, First Kiss, Arthur Is Bad At Emotions, Confessions, First Time Together, Cunnilingus, Missionary, Doggy Style, Handjobs, Mirrors, Tags Updated Per Chapter Author's Note: lots of dialogue because i can’t make them stfu :) also smut in the first half, in case you don’t want to read it Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay @nn-hh192 Chapter List

To say you were surprised when you woke up with your face buried in the chest of Arthur Morgan would be an understatement.

When you woke, the realization made you gasp, almost immediately regretting it when Arthur began to stir. Luckily your outburst had been quiet enough that he fell right back asleep, his arms pulling you closer. 

The events of the night, and morning, came back to you then. Flashes passed through your mind; the way his hands had felt, the way his lips had covered your body, the way he stretched you so deliciously. It was all a blur, ending sometime in the early morning. You knew because you heard the birds singing as you fell asleep, wrapped up in each other’s arms. 

The aches in your body made sense, then, and why you felt like you hadn’t slept a minute. Every muscle felt like it had been pushed to the maximum, and if you were able to move you were certain it would hurt. But you were stuck, unable to get out of the embrace Arthur held you in. Even his legs had you in a lock, tangled with yours underneath the sheets. You were stuck. 

You were just able to look up at him with weary eyes. Sunlight illuminated him, and you could see details about him that you hadn’t been able to before. His eyelashes were quite long, resting on his cheeks as he slept. You noticed some beauty marks that dotted his face, even lighter than the few that you knew of, and you swore you even saw some freckles. 

There were also some light scars that had faded over time. One stretched across his nose bridge, no doubt from the injury that made it crooked in the first place. Another nicked his eyebrow, barely messing with the hair there, and you’d have never seen it if you weren’t this close. In his beard, you were just able to see the scar tissue there. You’d always assumed that the small patch there just never grew hair, but you now knew that it was a scar. 

You then examined the features that you knew so well, the ones you’d come to love dearly. His soft hair, mused and ruffled from hours of your hands in it. The arch of his brow, the creases of his eyes, the slope of his crooked nose. His lips, so plush and soft, the ones that had been all over you. You couldn’t help yourself as you stretched, barely able to brush his lips with your own. 

“I was wonderin’ when you’d do that.”

Arthur’s voice made you jump out of your skin, your aforementioned weariness dissipating as adrenaline kicked in. “Arthur,” you gasped out, unable to hide a small smile. “How long have you been awake for?”

“Long enough to know you’ve been starin’ at me.” His voice was gravely with sleep, even more rougher than normal. It made you shiver. 

“How could I not?” You sighed, staring at him with obvious adoration. 

A dusting of pink colored his cheeks, smiling broadly at you. “How you can stand to even look at this mug is beyond me. And to enjoy lookin’ at it?” He shook his head, and you felt one of his arms unwrap from around you. You melted when he rested his now free hand on your cheek, fingers weaving into your hair. “I don’t deserve you.”

Before you could argue that he did indeed deserve you, he was pulling you in, kissing you properly. It was short, but it conveyed something that made your heart thud rapidly. His hand remained on your cheek even when he pulled away, thumb caressing the skin slowly. Now that you weren’t so startled, you felt tired once again, and the soft way he was holding you certainly wasn’t helping, and neither was the heat from his body. 

You must’ve yawned, because Arthur was chuckling gently with a fond look on his face. “Few more minutes?” He asked, and you nodded. He pressed a final kiss to the top of your head, making you relax even more, before returning his arm to where it had been a few moments prior. “A few more minutes, then.”

It didn’t take long for you to fall back into a content slumber.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

The two of you definitely slept in longer than a few minutes.

You weren’t sure how long exactly, but you knew a significant chunk of time had passed. 

It was hunger that woke you now. Your stomach grumbled and twisted, and you tried to ignore it, shuffling deeper into the mattress.

But it wasn’t the hunger pangs that made you jolt upright. It was the lack of Arthur’s body next to yours, no longer holding you. 

Setting a hand to where he had been, you were weirdly relieved when you found it to still be warm, and you heard the sound of running water from the ensuite bathroom. 

Now sitting upright, you were now regretting getting up so quickly, your muscles complaining. Rubbing at your neck, you were surprised to find that it was more tender than anticipated, but only in certain spots. In fact, as you rubbed at the weary muscles, you found more spots like that: along your breasts, in between your thighs, across your stomach. There weren’t a lot, but it was enough to be a tad bit alarming.

Pulling off the sheet that covered it, you couldn’t help the small gasp that left you as you saw the various marks peppering your body. There weren’t even more than ten, not including the ones you now presumed to be on your neck. The sight made you reel, enjoying it far more than you thought you would. 

After a bit of pain, you managed to get out of bed, but standing was a whole different story. Your knees practically gave out when you took the first step, and you had to hold onto the bed to support. You were grateful that Arthur was currently in the bathroom, unable to see what he’d done to you.

It took longer than it should’ve, but you eventually made your way to the vanity and mirror tucked into the corner of the room. You never used this one, opting for the one in the bathroom or closet, but you highly doubt you’d be able to make it to the closet. And the other one was preoccupied, and you highly doubt that Arthur would mind if you barged in, but you still wanted to give him privacy.

You gasped again when you saw your reflection, but you’d be a liar if you said the sight wasn’t erotic. Your neck had seen the worst of it, darkened hickeys lining both sides, and you ran a tentative finger over them, which made you fight back a small hiss of pain. 

You heard the sound of the bathroom door opening, and when you turned your head you were met with the glorious sight that was a completely bare Arthur. He hadn’t caught your eye yet, running his hands through his hair, smoothing it out as best he could. When he realized the bed was empty, though, he looked around, and then his eyes finally fell to where you were standing. 

A series of emotions passed over his face as he regarded you; surprise, appreciation, then thinly veiled desire. You couldn’t look away as he began to saunter over, a playful smirk on his face, and you focused hard on keeping your gaze at an appropriate level. Arthur seemed to have no qualms with checking you out, his eyes flicking over every part of you, making you feel warm. 

“Good morning, Arthur.” Your voice didn’t like that you tried to talk louder than a whisper, and it sounded scratchy and airy. 

“Good afternoon, darlin’.” When he finally reached you, he stood behind you, arms wrapping around your body and pulling you into him. His head rested on your shoulder, the stubble of his beard pressing into your skin. After making sure any hair was out of the way, you felt as he pressed a gentle kiss against your neck, and you felt yourself go completely lax in his arms.

He met your eyes in the mirror as he held you, rocking your body slightly. “Gorgeous,” you heard him murmur, and you tore your gaze away, your cheeks burning. “None of that, now,” he laughed lightly, drawing your attention back to him. “There you are.”

He was staring at you hungrily, shaking off any remnants of sleep in your body. He was insatiable, but you were loving it. You’d never felt this desired, this craved, and it made you feel good. 

Keeping one arm slung around your waist to keep you pressed close to him, you felt as he began to brush his fingers over the marks around your neck, much lighter than you had. Still, it elicited a small noise of complaint from you. “M’Sorry,” you heard him murmur, and you shook your head in response. 

“Does it seem like I’m complainin’?” You chuckled lightly, but there was still a hint of guilt on his features. “Just, no more. I don’t know how I’m coverin’ these, let alone more.”

“So you are complainin’.”

You dramatically rolled your eyes, much to the amusement of Arthur. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

He just hummed noncommittally, eyes never leaving your body in the mirror. It was quite a nice sight, you wrapped up in Arthur’s arms, the evidence of the night's escapades littering your body. “Hell of a sight to walk out and see,” he murmured, taking on a raspy tone that you’d come to know quite well over the past day. 

“Not a bad sight yourself.” Your already unsteady legs grew weaker when you felt him begin to drag his fingers down. “Arthur…”

“Want me to stop?”

“You better not.”

A breathy laugh left Arthur. “Understood, darlin’.” As you asked, he continued, making you shiver and press into him. His chest was practically flush with your back, and you could feel it begin to rise more rapidly with barely contained excitement. When he grazed your breasts, the responding noise you made made him grin, and you could feel him half-hard against your back. 

You tried to reach behind and touch him, but he lightly redirected you. “Later. Lemme make you feel good.” You expected to feel him grope at your breasts, so you jumped a bit when you felt his touch continue below them, traveling down and down. It was like he had one goal on his mind.

He had to lean over slightly in order to reach comfortably between your legs. Your eyes fluttered close when you felt him there, but a gentle nudge had you opening them back up. “Keep your eyes open,” he instructed. “I want you to see yourself fall apart.” His words, along with the just-woken-up gruff tone in his voice, made you shiver. 

You could do nothing but nod, forcing your eyes to stay open as you felt him brush between your folds, fingers barely grazing your clit. But he didn’t tease you, his touch returning to that spot and focusing in on it. Your light gasps turned to moans as he worked you, muttering praises in your ear, his head still resting on your shoulder. 

Blue eyes were locked onto you in the mirror, mesmerized by the way your features contorted in pleasure, your mouth agape as noises left you. One of your hands rested on the one between your thighs, the other reaching up and around, tangling your fingers into his hair. He was practically holding you up at this point, your legs long since turned boneless. 

“Look how beautiful you are,” he murmured, catching your gaze. The slow but persistent movement of his fingers had slowly started to build up the tension in you. 

“Arthur…” Your eyes threatened to close. 

“You gettin’ close, darlin’?”

You mumbled something in response, but it was enough for him. “Just let go,” his teeth nip at your ear. “Wach how beautiful you are when you cum.”

And you did. You watched the way a breathless sigh caught in your throat, your lips a perfect ‘o’ shape. You watched how your cheeks flushed, your eyes rolled back, the fingers in his hair turning deadly as a gentle orgasm washed over you. It left like a caress of a gentle wave over your body, not hitting you like it did last night, but that didn’t make it any less satisfactory. 

He helped you ride through your high, and you pushed away his hand when it became too much. Your eyes were still locked onto both of your reflections, his glistening fingers retracting themselves. Blindly, you reached behind you, hearing him let out a choked noise when your hand wrapped around him, now fully erect against your back.

But you found the angle too awkward, and so twisting in his arms you finally faced him. Pressing kisses against his collarbones, you began to stroke him slowly, quickly picking up speed when you felt him press himself into your hand. His breathing was already labored, and you realized how worked up he had gotten from pleasuring you, being already this close. 

“Arthur,” you sighed against his neck, running your free hand up his chest. Your nails scrapped lightly, running through the hair on his chest. He groaned out your name in response, head resting against yours, his breathing hot and heavy. 

It only took a few more strokes before, with a shuddering breath, he came. His spend coated your stomach

“Let’s get washed up before we spend the whole day in here,” you chucked lightly, still catching your breath.

“That doesn’t sound like a bad thing.”

“I don’t think I’ve got the stamina-”

“Who said anythin’ about sex, darlin’? I could be content just holidn’ you in my arms all day.”

For a moment, you seriously considered his argument, the bed looking quite inviting from where it sat behind Arthur. But before you could answer, your hungry stomach decided to answer for you, interrupting the silence. Embarrassed, you groaned, head resting on Arthur’s chest, and you felt it rumble as he laughed. “Guess that answers that, then.”

Tugging you to the bathroom, Arthur helped wash your skin, before letting you go to the closet to get dressed. But before you did, you snuck him a kiss, laughing when he chased after your lips. Donning a high-neck blouse, which rubbed uncomfortably against your neck, as well as a skirt, you felt the ache in your muscles as you dressed, making you wince and grin.

Finished, you headed downstairs as Arthur got washed up… again. There was a newfound energy in your step as you descended the stairs, your nerves still buzzing pleasantly. You chuckled when you saw Arthur’s hat discarded on the ground, and so after heading over and picking it up, you put it on one of the couches, easy for him to grab. 

Your grumbling stomach led you to the kitchen, where you got to work on making breakfast, which consisted of oatmeal and fruits. It was when you were making his bowl when you saw him enter, the bottom half of him covered in clothes. His button-up was on, sure, but was left completely open, giving you a perfect view as he approached. You tried not to look too disappointed when he buttoned it up halfway.

“What’s all this?” He asked, his hands returning to where they had been when he first held you in front of the mirror. 

“Breakfast, although I suppose it’s a bit late for that,” you laughed. “And you better watch those hands, Arthur.” His hands had begun to travel southward with a mischievous look.

Caught, he stopped his exploration, but he continued to hold you. His smile was infectious as you felt it press against your skin, and you bit back a laugh at the way his beard tickled you. No matter how many times you felt it, you’d never get used to it. “Thank you, darlin’.”

“It’s nothin’. I was hungry, and I figured it be rude to make you watch me eat.” He chuckled. “Bowl on the right’s yours.”

He hummed in thanks but was apprehensive about removing his hands, opting to hold you for a few moments longer. He eventually did, though, then made his way to the table with you following behind. Like the person he was, he pulled the chair out for you, leaning down and sneaking a kiss in while pushing the chair in. It made you chuckle, and your heart felt warm as you watched him sit next to you.

As the two of you began to eat in comfortable silence, you couldn’t help but marvel at how right it all felt. Waking up in his arms, him joining you in the kitchen, even eating breakfast together. It all felt like it was meant to happen, meant to be. And when you glanced up from your bowl and saw Arthur’s eyes on you, you knew he felt the same.

But you’d never pictured Arthur as a domestic man. He was an outlaw, a person not tied down by anything, be it rules or people. What that meant for your future together, you weren’t quite sure, but for now, you were content to just ignore it. It had been a great day so far; you didn’t want to ruin it by thinking about the future. 

Sliding your arm toward him, you took one of his hands, and he squeezed gently in response. Even though he’d had his hands over your entire body last night, something that would normally make you want to crawl out of your skin if it was any other person, this touch felt somehow more intimate, more personal. 

You hadn’t even realized you’d been laughing lightly until he raised a brow at you, a smile curling the corners of his lips. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothin’.” And it was true, there wasn’t actually anything funny with the situation. Well, it certainly was a bit funny, as you were currently in love with the man who had tried to break into your house all those weeks ago. You were just so damn happy that you couldn’t keep it contained any longer. “Nothin’ at all.”

“You’re a strange woman,” he mumbled in jest, the same words he had uttered to you in Rhodes when you first met properly. 

“And I’ll still take that as a compliment, Arthur.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Did you ever think this would happen?” You asked after a moment of silence. “Me, you, this?” You shook his hand lightly. “What’d you think was gonna happen when we first met?”

“Certainly not this. When I first met ya, in Rhodes,” he added when you began laughing again, “I thought you were gonna be another high-society person that I’d crossed, and I fully expected ya to send the law after me for what I did. But when that didn’t happen, well, I just had to talk to ya. You were, are, less… uptight than I thought you’d be. I’d never thought you’d been raised wealthy by the way you acted. And I mean that in the best way possible.”

“I guess we both surprised each other, then. Your appearance deceives you.”

“It’s supposed to,” Arthur sighed. “My life’d be much harder if it didn’t.”

“If only they knew how much of a softie you were,” you teased. 

“Soft?” He repeated, almost offended. 

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that, you know.”

“I… I suppose not,” he relented. “Just don’t let the others back at camp know,” he added with a chuckle, but there was the slightest hint of alarm in his eyes. “They’d never let me hear the end of it.”

“Your secret is safe with me. And your reputation.”

“Much appreciated, darlin’.”

“How is camp, by the way?” You were genuinely curious. “How is everyone?”

“I’m not gonna lie, things have been… tense lately. John’s son, Jack, was taken, but we got him back. Angelo Bronte, over in Saint Denis, had him.” You knew that name. Everyone in the area knew who Angelo Bronte was. You also knew that only the foolish tried to work with him. In the back of your mind, you wondered if Hans had dealings with him. 

“Bronte? You got him to listen to you?”

“Had to do a job for him, but yes. You know him?”

“Not personally, but I’ve been to his house plenty of times. If you got money or somethin’ to offer him, then you’ve been to his parties.”

“Dutch somehow managed to weasel us onto the guestlist for one happenin’ in a couple of days. Thinks we could get some good leads there.”

“Well, Dutch is right ‘bout that. Secrets are spilled there like it’s nothin’, even more so after drinks are had. Are you goin’?”

“Don’t have much choice in the matter.”

“Me neither. But, depending on when he gets back, I might just see you there.”

That seemed to cheer Arthur up over the prospect of having to rub elbows with high-society. “You’re goin’ to?”

You shrugged. “Like I said, it all depends. He usually likes to go, and it’s comin’ up around the time he usually comes back. But no promises.”

“Well, now I’m excited, maybe seein’ you in a party dress.” And you were excited at possibly seeing Arthur in a tux. 

“Gonna have to be a high-neck dress,” you grumbled, making Arthur laugh. “But other than that, things are… good? As good as they can be?”

“We had to relocate to an abandoned plantation house, Shady Belle. It’s a good spot, ‘cept for the gators. But we shouldn’t be bothered by law for a while.”

“I dunno if Javier told you, but I offered you all my house if you ever need a place to stay. Not just you, but everyone.”

“Oh, he told us alright. Dutch debated sendin’ Jack and Abigail, his mom, over to ya to keep him from gettin’ taken again. But John wanted ‘em to stay in camp.”

“Is John his father?”

“As much as he tries to fight it, yes.” It seemed like a sore spot, so you didn’t press it.

“Well, if they ever change their minds, my door is usually open. And even if he’s home, I’m sure I could figure somethin’ out.”

“I’d hate to-”

“You don’t gotta decide anythin’ now. Just know the offers on the table.” Arthur looked away, biting back words. His brow was furrowed, and you could see the strain in his jaw. “Arthur?”

“You’re too kind.”

“It’s really not a bother-”

“No, you’re too kind.” His worried eyes locked onto yours. “This world is vicious, the life I live is vicious. It ruins people like you, good people. I’m… I’m afraid of you gettin’ caught up in all this. All the runnin’, the distrust, the bloodshed. I don’t wanna see it change you. I don’t wanna change you.”

“I know this world is viscous. I may not see it first-hand like you do, but I know. But isn’t that why I shouldn’t try to be kind, as naive as I might sound to say? And sure, it might come back to bite me, but isn’t it rewarding just to try?” You took a breath. “This world has already tried its hardest to change me, Arthur. It has tried to make me cold, to make me cruel, to make me uncaring. But I simply won’t let it, which I know is easier said than done. But every time I think it might just be easier to turn a cold shoulder, to ignore the problems of others, I remind myself that if I were in their shoes, I’d want someone to extend a hand out to me.”

Arthur was silent for a good while, mulling over your words. “I try to help when I can,” he began. “I really do try. But it seems like for every good deed I do, ten bad ones take its place. Every good thing I do pales in comparison to all the robbin’, the stealin’, the killin’. And it tears me up inside, the… the guilt.”

“Then why do you continue to do it?” You asked, no judgment in your voice. 

“‘Cause it’s the only thing I know how to do. It’s the only way I know to provide a life for those I care ‘bout. Acts of kindness don’t pay nearly as well as a robbery.”

“As much as I hate to agree, you’re not wrong. You’ve gotta do what you gotta to survive, and I don’t think anyone can fault you for that. And you shouldn’t feel too guilty; you steal from people who deserve it, right?”

“We’re gonna be stealin’ from you, darlin’. Are you sayin’ you deserve it?”

“Maybe not me, but Hans sure as hell does.”

“Damn right,” Arthur muttered, almost too low for you to catch. But there was still an inkling of guilt on his face.

“Besides, we’ve got so much money, so much that I don’t know what to do with it. It’s like I said before, as long as he doesn’t stop helpin’ my family, you can get as much as you can from him.”

“Have you written to them? Your family?” Arthur asked, wanting to shift the conversation away from him. You’d let him, for now. 

“I sent them a letter yesterday. But I realize now that I’ve got no way of receivin’ their letters.”

“You send it in your name?” You nodded. “I’ll try to stop by, grab ‘em for ya.”

“Aren’t you wanted in Rhodes?” 

Arthur shrugged. “It’ll die down over the next week or so, which should be enough time.”

“You’re gonna do it no matter what I say, ain’t you.” The responding grin told you all that you needed to know. “Thank you, Arthur.”

He waved off your thanks, and the two of you continued your breakfast before it turned colder. You tried to stand and grab both of your bowls when you finished, but Arthur was having none of it. Ushering you back down, he took the bowls into the kitchen himself, even go so far as to wash them for you. Unsure of what to do with yourself now, you made your way to the living room, sitting on one of the couches as you waited for him to return. 

You spotted his hat out of the corner of your eye, and before you could stop yourself you picked it up, examining it in your hands. It hadn’t changed much since the first time you saw it or the time after that. Maybe there was a new scratch or nick here and there, but you didn’t see them. All you saw was a well-loved hat with more stories than you could imagine. 

You glanced up when you saw Arthur approaching, and you flashed him a grateful look. There was a regretful look on his face, and you knew exactly what was about to happen next. “You have to go, don’t you.”

“I’m sorry-”

“None of that, Arthur,” you shook your head, smiling lightly. “As much as I’d love for you to spend the rest of the day here, you’ve got responsibilities, and you’ve got people who need you. I get it.” You stood now, making your way over to him, his hat still in your hands. “Just come back, alright?”

“I’ll come back, darlin’.”

“You better mean it this time.”

“I promise.”

“You sure? ‘Cause I will get Javier or someone to drag you back.”

Two hands gently grasped the sides of your face, drawing all your attention to him. “I swear,” he rested his head against yours, sighing deeply. 

You’re not sure who moved first, your lips colliding in a gentle kiss that sealed the promise he just uttered. You hoped that would be enough to push the thoughts from his brain that fed him the misconceptions that drove him away. 

“I’ll see you soon, either here or at the party,” you said when you broke apart. 

“I’ll see you soon,” he repeated, his hands dropping from your face. Before he could take a step back, you planted his hat on his head, pressing one last kiss to his cheek. With a fond look, he backed up to the entranceway, slipping on his boots with visible apprehension, not wanting this visit to end either. 

You followed him out the door, but before he descended the stairs he hesitated, looking back at you. Before you could even register he was in front of you, kissing you deeply. You let out a surprised noise, before melting into his embrace, your hands grasping his still partially unbuttoned shirt. 

But then he was leaving again, with an almost hurried gait, as if he feared if he lingered he’d never leave. You stood on the porch, slightly stunned as Arthur whistled for Bear, who came trotting out of the woods looking quite irritated at his owner. That irritation melted when he heard you call out his name, his ear flickering happily. Arthur had to stop him from coming over to you, an amused smile on his face when he turned to you. “I swear, he likes ya more than me.”

You chuckled as Arthur got atop Bear, and it took no encouragement to bring Bear closer to you. It took a little bit of stretching, but you managed to stroke his snout lightly, earning a nicker in response. After petting him for a few moments, you glanced up at his rider, a soft smile on his face. 

Words hung on the tip of your tongue, the ones you’d let slip so freely last night. Would it be too soon for you to say it again? Would it make him uncomfortable? Would it hurt you, saying them, knowing he couldn’t say it back?

Arthur watched you, almost expectantly, and you couldn’t help yourself from uttering the words. You just needed him to hear it again. 

You swore you saw something like relief on his face, only there for a fraction of a second. With slightly rose-tinged cheeks, he ducked his head, his hat covering his face from you.

“Now, get outta here Arthur,” you teased, breaking the tension. It seemed to do the trick, and you watched as Arthur began to back up. “Goodbye, for now.”

“Goodbye, for now,” he repeated with the same infliction. With one final glance, he was gone, the trees almost curling around him as he went up the trail leading to the main road. With a thumping heart, you made your way back inside, ungracefully flopping down on the couch, a sigh of disbelief leaving you.

That sigh turned into light chuckling, which turned into giddy laughter, the sore muscles in your body complaining as you laughed. Like before, you were just so happy that it threatened to overwhelm you, and you needed some way to let it out. It only took a few seconds until it died down, and you let yourself just relax, a new thought making a bittersweet smile appear. 

You’d missed what being truly happy felt like. 

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

It had taken some time, but you eventually peeled yourself off the couch. You had almost gone straight upstairs, but the newspaper on the kitchen table made you stop. You realized that Hans probably had no idea about Arthur’s involvement in Rhodes, and if the job with him was to go smoothly, then he needed to remain unaware.

Taking the paper upstairs, it rolled it up and tucked it into the lockbox, the thing barely fitting in there. Eventually, though, you were able to get it tucked back under the bed.

The room felt a lot more dead now that Arthur wasn’t around. The sheets were cold and lonesome, and as you laid down on the bed you could still smell him, all gunpowder and tobacco and leather. As sad as it made you, you also realized now that you probably needed to clean said bedsheets before Hans got home. 

Before letting yourself get lulled into a doze by the familiar smell, you got up, opening the two windows in the room to try and air it out. It took a bit of time, but you eventually gathered up all the sheets, pillowcases, and blankets on the bed, as well as the washcloths from the 

Your body hated the exertion, and it took an hour or two, but you eventually had everything on the clothesline. It did go by quickly, though, with your memories still flooded with the man that had occupied those sheets hours ago, a light smile on your face as you worked.  

Going into it, you knew that it was going to take over a day for everything to dry completely, but you were fine with that. That night, you grabbed a spare blanket from the closet, and you slept on the couch. It was uncomfortable and just irritated your sore muscles more, but you couldn’t bring yourself to lay in the bed, the other side barren. 

It was going to be hard to try and sleep without Arthur.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan smut

[serial-serializednovelreader]

Nova’s Notes - DD - May 8th

That’s right, I’m deciding to give my thoughts a cheesy name because why not (also it’s late oops).

So this may be one of my favorite entires of the entire book. My first go-around it was for the mirror-yeet scene (because that’s iconic) and Dracula being The Housekeeper of all timeTM, but now it’s also one of my favorites because of how much we learn about Jonathan.

They say you learn the most about a person when they’re in crisis mode, and while I don’t always think that’s true, Stoker definitely wanted to let Jonathan’s personality shine through here.

From the first passage, he’s literally guessed that Dracula is undead. “I fear I am the only living soul here.” Sure, he might mean that he’s the only present soul, if Dracula’s left the building, but since he describes the mirror yeeting scene right after…idk, I’d like to think he knows way more than we ever gave him credit for. “Clueless Jonathan” who? Is the clueless in the room with us?

Also going back to the first sentence where he describes worrying he was getting too wordy, but now being glad he did…oof. I feel for him here. If my theory is correct that he was initially writing in a more detailed way for Mina so he could remember his travels for later…I’m sure it’s hitting him now that while it may be saving his life that he’s more detailed, it’s so twisted that something he did as a note of affection has soured. I wonder if he’s thinking about how he may never get out of this, or if that hasn’t fully hit him yet.

Moving on to everyone’s favorite mirror-yeet scene, think about how Jonathan reacts when he’s caught off guard by Dracula because he didn’t see his reflection. How would most protagonists react? Probably laugh nervously and brush it off. Attribute it to some mistake on his part, which is exactly what Jonathan does *at first*. But after, he looks at Dracula and then looks back at the mirror to confirm his suspicions are correct, which they are. It’s an interesting moment and not one I think we see often at the beginning of a horror story (I don’t consume much horror though, so correct me if I’m wrong!). Usually, a character won’t get to this level of observation until towards the middle/end, when more supernatural elements have occurred. Jonathan may have second guessed his instincts, but checking them again is what makes him more likely to survive Castle Dracula.

Plus, when Dracula makes a move to attack him, his first instinct is to dodge the attack, showing that he’s not just going to freeze up at the first sign of trouble (which I want to emphasize isn’t a problem normally, but he is dealing with a thousands-of-years-old vampire…so, he has to be quick on his feet to survive).

Afterwards, he says he is annoyed at losing his mirror rather than disturbed, but I saw another post saying he’s repressing his panic as annoying (I’ll link it if I find it again) and I definitely think that’s true!! I can totally see that as his coping mechanism. Plus, compared to the rest of what happens for him today, it really is more of an annoyance than anything else. Would you rather your host throw away your mirror or lock you in a castle?

So after that horrific scene of terror, Jonathan is proactive in searching the castle. After finding a beautiful — but slightly horrifying landscape (you know it’s bad when he doesn’t stop to describe the view) — he decides to explore further, which leads him to figure out almost every other door is locked, including the front one to find, yep you guessed it…he’s a prisoner in the castle.

As I imagine most people would, at first he reacts by frantically running around trying to open locked doors like “a rat does in a trap.” The fact that he admits this in his diary (and, by extension to Mina/us) is admirable because it already shows he’s not afraid to be open about his emotions, even if it makes him look weak (which — unfortunately, he would, considering the time period). Most heroes of this period were expected to accept their fates with stoic determination, but that’s not human and that’s not how Jonathan is, either. We’ve already seen that he’s more open-minded than most English men by accepting the crucifix even if he doesn’t understand it and of course the way he shows his love for Mina is atypical for Victorian men as well. Most men wouldn’t go to the trouble of writing down descriptive notes just to recount it for the benefit of his fiancée later. It’s sad, but true.

Once he’s able to regulate himself a bit, it’s time for thinking and strategy, determining that he needs all of his wits to get through this! Once he sees that the Count does the cooking AND the cleaning, though, is when my love for Jonathan reaches an all-time high. He comes to a series of conclusions most protagonists don’t figure out until the end of a novel after way more obvious clues have been laid out for him and it’s only his 3rd day of being in the castle!! They go as follows:

A) Dracula = servants

B) Dracula = driver

C) Dracula = control wolves

D) Villager’s concern/gifts = this is worse than I thought

E) Crucifix = actual help?

F) Get Dracula to talk about himself (not hard) = find more information, but not in an obvious way

I also love that he questions his own biases about the crucifix he was given!!!! When else do you see an Englishman do that in the 1890s of his own volition (aka without someone snarkily telling him to - see BBC’s Dracula if you want an example). I certainly haven’t!

He also noticed that Drac talked about his “ancestors” as if he had been present for their battles (hmm wonder why that is). Hasn’t quite figured it out yet, but there’s evidence that he doesn’t write something down as a fact until he knows it is a fact, so perhaps we’ll see him write more on this later.

Final thought - his reference to Arabian Nights and Hamlet is significant and tragic, but also relatable. I too like to relate my life to my favorite blorbos, Jonathan!

All in all, we learned that Jonathan is very good in a crisis. He’s not stoic like most protagonists of his time period, but he is instead strategic and observant, willing to play the part of oblivious to keep himself alive another day and keep Dracula’s trust. This is likely what’s keeping him alive right now, as an aggressive approach would get him killed. Dracula is all about playing with his prey and keeping the illusion of benevolent host and willing guest — it’s a game of control for him. Breaking this game would mean it’s no fun and no fun would mean Jonathan is no longer needed….

While I know how this story goes, I’m as excited as first time readers to see how Jonathan plays what is, essentially, 4D chess with Dracula!

#dracula daily #dracula #jonathan harker #may 8th #sorry this took so long #I kept rewriting this #my poor friend Jonathan Harker just wanted to enjoy his business trip #novas notes #long post #cw violence mention

[sugdenlovesdingle]

Seven Sentence Sunday (times two!)

thanks for the tag @sznofthesticks @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @welcometololaland

As usual I have way too many fics on the go and i need motivation and inspiration to actually finish some of them sometime this century... so here's two snippets from two fics

---

Nancy/Marjan

"Come home with me after shift."

"What? Are you sure?"

Marjan nodded, looking down at their joint hands for a moment before meeting Nancy's eyes again.

"Never been more sure. I just... I want to be with you... I want to wake up next to you tomorrow, I want to find out what you're like first thing in the morning, I want to know what you like for breakfast... I just want you."

"You have me." Nancy promised. "I've kind of had a thing for you since the first time you walked through those doors downstairs and announced you were here to see Owen Strand. I'm not letting you go now."

"Really?" Marjan asked. There was a hint of sadness in her eyes but at the same time it thrilled her to know Nancy had liked her for that long.

"Yeah. You were all confident and badass... and beautiful." Nancy leaned down to kiss her.

They were usually more careful when they were at work, and maybe it was the nice weather they'd been having, the fact that Marjan had pulled off another ridiculously risky stunt but was fine, the two days off they had coming up, or maybe it was just that they were still in the honeymoon stage of their relationship and just wanted to kiss each other every chance they got, but they let themselves get lost in the kiss and completely forgot where they were.

Until the door opened and someone walked in.

"Woah, shit, sorry! I didn't see anything!" Paul announced loudly, covering his eyes as the two women jumped apart.

"Paul! What are you doing here?!" Marjan hissed.

"I just wanted to gather my stuff so I won't have to do it when shift is over. But clearly you're busy in here so I'll just..." he trailed off and felt around for the door handle.

----

Buck/Tommy

(technically Buck & his firefam but - details)

“Morning. What are we talking about, mister... Kinard…” Eddie trailed off. “Are you two becoming one of those couples now? Is Tommy walking around with Buckley on his back?”

Buck grinned and raised an eyebrow at his best friend.

“No. Nope. Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.” Eddie warned him quickly, holding up his hand as if that would stop Buck from talking. 

“I mean… he’s probably still in bed… so he’s not wearing much of anything right now.” Buck grinned and sat down at the table next to Hen while Eddie groaned and muttered something under his breath about never being friends with couples.

“Did you know?” Hen asked Eddie when he joined them at the table.

“Know what?”

Hen grabbed Buck’s left hand and showed Eddie his ring.

“You asked him? I thought you wanted to wait until the party?”

“Yeah… but then I picked him up from work last week… and I just couldn’t wait.” Buck smiled. “When you know, you know, right?”

“Hmm.” Eddie agreed as he focused on his coffee.

“So you knew?” Hen asked again.

“Yeah. I helped him pick out the ring.” Eddie shrugged. “And when I say helped I mean apologised to the woman in the store who had to show him every ring they had at least twice, before he eventually bought the first one she'd shown him. He's banned from the place for life now." he joked. "I didn’t know he was going to propose now though.”

---

tagging @carlos-in-glasses @bonheur-cafe @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @oldfangirl81 @your-catfish-friend

@chicgeekgirl89 @lemonlyman-dotcom @sanjuwrites + open tag for whoever wants to share something

#911 lone star #911 abc #bucktommy #marjan x nancy #marjan marwani #nancy gillian #tag games #seven sentence sunday #my writing

[unreliablesnake]

His new little pet (Kyle Garrick x f!reader)

Summary: Kyle becomes obsessed with you and comes up with a plan to get you.

Note: dark!Gaz. I wanted to write something like this after reading the first few pages of You. // If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics.

Warning: kidnapping, drugs, sexual themes, stalking, etc.

A friend of his took a bunch of photos at a big festival, one he couldn’t attend because he was on another continent at the time, taking out bad guys to keep the balance in the world. But as he swiped through the photos in her Instagram post late at night in an empty briefing room, Kyle’s thumb stopped above the screen as he took a closer look at one of the pictures. 

His friend was posing with a friend of hers, one he had seen in photos before. You were tagged which made it easy to find out who you were, and based on your profile and previous content, you didn’t even live that far from him. How irresponsible of you to post about your favorite places to visit in the morning, and sharing pictures with a view outside your window that makes it easy to pinpoint where exactly you live. 

The obsession over you came as a surprise as he couldn’t recall the last time he got so hooked on the idea of being with someone. You were on his mind all day long, sometimes during times he was supposed to focus on something entirely different with a weapon in his hand, waiting for the commands coming from Price. 

But how could he focus when you were so irresistible? He memorized every detail, the shape of your kissable pink lips, the color of your eyes, the way you usually styled your hair, and that bikini which left little to his imagination. Oh, if he ever got the chance to be with you, he sure as hell wouldn’t let you post such pictures. The last thing he needed was knowing other men were drooling over the curves of your body. 

When he wasn’t deployed, he began to hang out around your apartment, patiently waiting for you so he could learn more about your daily routine. You usually came down to a nearby bakery in the morning to get something for breakfast, then you left for work where you stayed until late in the afternoon. From there the program you chose varied all the time; sometimes you spent time with your friends, sometimes you stayed at home. 

From his brief conversations with your mutual friend, he learned even more about you. Wednesday is reserved for emergency venting meetings with your closest friends, a little three-people group whose members had known each other since their teenage years. Every Friday you meet with your friends to have a drink in a pub, watch a movie together, or sometimes you go to a restaurant to talk over some fancy dinner. Saturday is usually reserved for dates or going to a party with the core group. Sunday was the day you always spent with your family. 

A creature of habit, that’s what you were. To him it was good news, this way he could make an accidental meeting happen at a place he knew you would visit. Kyle decided to make his move after the next mission, during which he carefully crafted a plan to make it seem like it wasn’t planned beforehand and as if he had only vaguely remembered you from a picture from your mutual friend’s profile. 

The bakery near your apartment seemed to be the best option on a Friday morning. If things went well, you might invite him to hang out with you and your friends, or you could even offer to see him one-on-one the next day. He wouldn’t force this. Sure, he would ask for your number–you know, just in case something happens to that mutual friend of yours–but there’s no way he would ask you out. Not yet. 

He would eventually send you a text that simply says, “Jennie’s birthday is coming up, we should throw a party for her.” And you would probably reply, “Good idea, let’s meet to discuss the plan.” It would be easy. You were too kind and loyal to say no to an idea like that. From this point on, it would be way too easy. He gossips about friends you don’t want to attend, he cracks jokes to lighten the mood, and he would gently touch your shoulder every now and then, just a little not to make you uncomfortable, but still get your attention as he passes by. 

He waited a little further away from the bakery, keeping enough distance to be out of sight, but staying close enough to enter a few seconds after you. And just as expected, you arrived at the usual time, at seven o’clock to have enough time to eat at home and get to work by nine. Kyle walked in with his phone in hand, his eyes focused somewhere between the screen and you so he knew exactly when he would accidentally bump into you.

“Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” he apologized as he looked up and locked the phone. 

You flashed a charming little smile at him as you pulled on the strap of your bag. “No problem, it happens to the best of us.” 

He couldn’t believe how nice you were and how your voice was as sweet as honey. Just as he was thinking about how to keep up the conversation, his lips almost forming the first word of the next sentence, you narrowed your eyes and clearly took a better look at him. The expression on your face slowly changed, showing that you were thinking hard about something. 

“Don’t we know each other?” 

It took Kyle by surprise. He couldn’t recall meeting you in person before, but you seemed so sure that you knew each other that he didn’t dare to speak up at first. He then told you he couldn’t remember ever meeting you, but–because there was a but, why wouldn’t there be one–he mentioned that you looked familiar too. You wondered if he lived nearby, and he was quick to confirm he did indeed and maybe that was the key. 

But then a look of realization appeared on your face. “Jennie’s Instagram,” you exclaimed happily. “I knew I saw you before. You’re friends with her, right?”

His brain short-circuited for a moment as you grabbed his elbow and pulled him out of the line so you could talk without interruptions. Clearing his throat, he flashed a kind smile at you and nodded. “Yeah, I knew you looked familiar too. You went to that festival together a few months back.”

“As we do every year,” you said with a laugh that sounded like music to his ears. He couldn’t wait to hear you laugh at his jokes while the two of you were sitting on his couch with his arm around your shoulder. “How long have you known her?”

“For about four years, I guess,” he replied slowly as he thought about the answer. Not because he cared that much about his friendship with Jennie at this moment, but because he wanted to make sure you got the answer you were looking for. “Yes, four, she came to my 30th birthday party as the girlfriend of one of my old friends.”

The last part of his sentence caught your interest. “Old friend?”

Kyle nodded. “They broke up and our little group was already mad at him, so I guess we kinda inherited Jennie after the breakup,” he explained with a laugh. “How did you meet her?”

Some asshole bumped into you as he walked in, as if the shop wasn't big enough for everyone. But the line was away from you and he seemingly wasn't coming in to meet someone, which meant the little incident was probably more than just an accident. Kyle had to keep himself under control so he wouldn't go after him and force him to apologize.

He shouldn't do that. He definitely shouldn't scare you. In his eyes you were like a delicate flower, a wild animal that could easily be scared away with a loud noise.

“We went to college together,” you replied after you returned your attention to him.

At first he didn't even remember his question that you answered. But soon his mind wandered to dangerous waters knowing Jennie and her rebellious past, but he tried to keep a straight face. He definitely shouldn't think about whether or not she had made a move on you, if the two of you lived together as roommates, or if she had some juicy story about you.

“Sounds like fun,” he said with a forced smile.

In reality, he didn't want to think about you being in college. Were you one of those girls who tasted freedom for the first time and went wild for those few years? The more he was looking at you, the more he could imagine your wild side. Maybe you had a long string of one-night stands, guys you brought home after those big parties you attended.

Kyle knew you were past that wild phase. Sure, this side of yours came out to play when you went to festivals or visited a club with your friends on a Saturday evening, but in your everyday life you were a completely different person. Chill yet disciplined, and practical. Spontaneity wasn't in your dictionary from Sunday to Friday. 

“I should get going or else I'll be late from work,” you suddenly spoke up with your eyes on the screen of your phone. This sentence got his attention and maybe the hint of disappointment crossed his face when he looked at you. You didn’t seem to notice because it was gone by the time you put your phone in your pocket and looked up at him with a beaming smile. “See you around.”

Nodding, he watched as you left the shop without standing back in the line to get your breakfast. Poor you, now you will probably have to get something else to eat. Hopefully you won’t starve yourself. He shoved his hands into the pocket of his jacket and left as well, going home to spend the rest of the day stalking you on social media. 

It always surprised him how much you shared on different platforms. Photos, locations, thoughts, moodboards, sometimes your interests, and you were always ready to engage in conversations with others. This made tracking you a lot easier for him, but at the same time it also reminded him of how much you craved attention. Why else would you post so much? 

If he had you all for himself, he would definitely talk to you about this. He huffed at the word if. It wasn’t an if, it was a when. Because it was only a matter of time until he got what he wanted so badly, he just had to be patient for now. Until that day he would keep an eye on you, make sure you were safe, and learn even more about you. He could ask Jennie about you after casually mentioning that he met you by accident. Knowing her, she would be quick to start telling him stories. 

But what happened in reality surely surprised him. He told Jennie about the meeting the next day when she called, and two days later she called him again, this time asking him if he was interested in you. “You have no idea,” he wanted to say but eventually he kept this to himself. So instead of properly answering, all he said was a nonchalant “she’s cute,” as if he hadn’t been thinking about you for weeks. His friend sounded excited but refused to elaborate on why. 

Later that day he received a notification on Instagram that told him you were now following him. Kyle knew better than to instantly follow you back, he wanted to make it look like he wasn’t in a hurry to let you know he remembered you. He wasn’t surprised to see you slip into his DMs the next day, although he expected you to keep your distance just a little longer. 

Hey, do you remember me? We met in that bakery last week. Jennie’s friend?

A smile appeared on his lips upon reading the message. Oh, you were so desperate. You spent the day when you followed him liking all of his recent photos, sometimes even leaving a cute comment with emojis. And now it was you coming to him, basically begging for his attention. 

I remember.

What are you doing on Saturday?

Date night. Based on the way you had let that asshole fuck you last Saturday, he didn’t expect you to move on so fast. That guy was one of the worst, some moron who treated you as if you were nothing more but a cheap whore. Yet you enjoyed yourself apparently because otherwise you wouldn’t have let him stay the night. And he saw the messages. He visited your apartment one day while you were at work and snooped around your laptop for your passwords. 

How naive of you to save every password in the browser. Anyone could take a look at them. What made his little search even more joyful was the fact you seemingly had a software on your phone to have remote access to it, this way he could check your phone too. So he logged into your accounts and deleted every message that was related to a new login. He spent an entire night going through every single one of your conversations in hope to find out what you liked. 

You looked like an angel, even talked like one, but deep down you were a really dirty girl, having several spicy conversations with different men. Roleplay, detailed chats about nights spent together, or sharing fantasies; it was hard to choose a favorite. He could still hear your moans as he read them, the sound of the video feed from your apartment last Saturday still a vivid memory in his mind. 

He only responded to your question the next day, keeping the casual tone as if he hadn’t known what you wanted from him. You want to grab a beer? Sure. Let's invite Jennie too. You sent your reply in five minutes, stating that you were thinking more of going alone, just the two of you.

“Slut,” he thought with a laugh. But he didn't mind as long as he was getting what he needed badly, the chance for his fingers to trace your body, his lips traveling from the shell of your ear down to your wet, tight cunt. He wanted to see you fall apart over and over again so he could build you up from scratch just the way he wanted.

Late in the afternoon on Friday he stood across the street in your neighborhood, watching you get ready through the window. You didn’t seem to care that there were no curtains and anyone could see you walk out of the shower to get dressed in your bedroom. A free show, one that made him be painfully aware of how tight his jeans were.

Then his phone beeped. Then it beeped again. With a groan he took a look at it, only to find a message you received. He had never heard of the man who wrote to you, but the things he sent you made it clear he wasn’t just a friend. He wondered how you could do this to him, why you decided to chat with a guy when you were about to go on a date with him the next day.

Let’s skip dinner. I’m waiting for you in the Ritz. Room 312. Bring some clothes, you’re only going home on Sunday. Until then you’re mine.

I’m visiting my parents on Sunday.

Cancel it. I’m not asking.

Yes, Sir.

A luxury hotel for the weekend just to fuck you in peace? Who the hell was this guy? Without much thinking he checked his profile and there he found a bunch of photos of him and his family. He was married which meant he was a lying piece of shit, but you didn’t seem to mind playing the role of the other woman in his life.

When Kyle looked up, he saw you folding clothes, probably putting them in a suitcase as this guy told you. You were so obedient, such a nice little pet, it would be a shame to hide you. If he had you, he would surely put you on display, letting everybody know you were his.

It was only the next day when a new message popped up on his phone. It took you more than half a day to cancel your meeting, telling him a family emergency came in the way. You didn’t mention a raincheck, it looked like you weren’t as interested as he had assumed. What a shame.

But it was okay. He could wait.

Price called him a few days later to inform him about a new mission. Kyle didn’t feel like going, but there was nothing he could do about it. Maybe distance would help. Maybe he could come up with a plan to get you. So he went there, spending every free second reading the messages you exchanged with others. 

This man you had spent the weekend with was bombarding you with messages. Apparently he sent you flowers, an expensive necklace you were very grateful for, and hell, he even offered to buy you a car because he didn’t like the idea of you using public transportation like the rest of the city. “Any guy could get touchy in the crowd and I don’t like the idea of others touching what’s mine,” he reasoned.

By the time he returned home, Kyle had a plan. He rented an apartment in an almost empty building and spent a lot of money on making it soundproof. You would like it. Well, you would learn to like it. It would be your new home, one you shared with him. The next days were spent near the building you lived in to see if your habits had changed while he was gone but lucky for him you were doing things the way as always.

So on a Friday evening when you went to a bar with your friends, he carefully spiked your drink then left to wait for it to start affecting you. He even left for half an hour, just to arrive as if he hadn't been there before. Who would be suspicious of someone who arrived when you were already a bit strange?

“Hey, Jennie’s friend,” he said when he stopped by your table, acting like he didn't remember your name. Your friends gave him a strange look, but when they saw the cheerful smile on your face, they visibly relaxed. “It's been a while.”

“Kyle! I'm so so sorry for ghosting you,” you slurred as you jumped up and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Why don't we hang out tonight?”

“And your friends?” Screw them, of course, but still, Mr. Nice Guy had to ask. 

You rolled your eyes at him. “I spend every Friday with them. But you! You're a rare sight.” He gently pushed you away to make it seem like he wasn't all that happy to have you all over him, like his mind wasn't already in overdrive from the scent of your perfume. “Let me make it up to you. I canceled the meeting and I'm so sad about it,” you said with a pout.

With a laugh he gave a questioning look to your friends, his eyes falling on the one who seemed the most protective from the group. She carefully considered the possibility of letting your drunk self leave with someone they didn't know, but you then began to beg her and she gave in with the condition of you calling him once you were at home.

A little detour was okay, he could manage that. You spend some time together, he walks you home, he waits for you to talk to your friend, then he returns to your home to get you. He knew you would love your new home because he took care of everything. From the few visits in your apartment when you weren’t home along with the video feed from your place, he learned which products you liked, what size your clothes were, what you liked to wear at home. He bought everything, “a shopping spree to surprise my girlfriend who stays over a lot lately,” he had said in a store with a loving smile, making everyone believe that this was all. 

The two of you decided to go grab something to eat, but you weren’t feeling well–thanks to the drugs he had given you, how smart of him–so he took you home instead. “Call your friend, then go to sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow to see if you’re feeling better. But if you need anything in the meantime,” he began quietly as he stepped closer to you, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek, “call me.”

He checked the feed from a nearby bar and listened to your conversation with that friend. 

“Lucy, I’m home in one piece,” you said as you leaned against the headboard of your bed. 

“Good. And that guy?”

“He left. I hoped he would stay to entertain me, but he wanted me to get some rest.”

Kyle couldn’t help but chuckle at your disappointment. You would get what you wanted in no time. You would be begging him to stop after he pulled out oh-so-many orgasms out of you, but he still wasn’t sure if he would give you the freedom to decide. Once you finally ended the call, he went back to your apartment and quietly walked into your bedroom, careful not to startle you. 

You were half-asleep already, but when he sat on the edge of your bed, your eyes opened and you looked at him. “Kyle?” He nodded as he swept a strand of hair behind your ear. “You came back?” you mumbled. 

“Get dressed, I want to show you something,” he told you before standing up to get you some clothes. 

By now the alcohol and the drug turned you into this obedient little thing, so you got dressed and followed him without questions. The car ride felt like an eternity, but he knew in less than twenty minutes you would officially become his. He rested his hand on your thigh the whole time, his thumb drawing circles into your skin through your jeans. You were sleeping peacefully so he could look over at you any time he wanted. 

When you reached your destination, he helped you out of the car and guided you to the third floor where his secret apartment was. You didn’t ask questions, you just crawled under the covers in bed and asked him to join you. Kyle didn’t have to be told twice, so he took off his shoes and occupied the empty side of the bed. “Get some sleep, pet. We will have the rest of our lives to have fun, trust me,” he whispered to you before leaning over to kiss you. 

#kyle garrick #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz #gaz x reader #f!reader #call of duty #modern warfare #mw3 #mw2

[keelywolfe]

Around when did Charlie give Alastor the shovel talk? And did she figure it out before the story even began?

Mmmm, I think she suspected from almost the beginning. She grew up in Hell, she can note the difference between arguing and arguing with intense sexual tension, and also the sudden decrease in public arguments.

I can see her talking it out with Vaggie in their room at night. Vaggie, being a former angel, is horrified to think Lucifer, also a former angel, is letting that nasty radio demon put his hands on him, but Charlie insists it makes sense, sure compatible are drawn together (her and Vaggie) but opposites also attract!

And sure, it's a little...uh...weird...to think of her dad being with Alastor of all people, but Charlie can't help but notice her dad seems a little calmer, easier in his own skin. When he first got to the hotel he was all manic energy, desperate to be helpful, and as much as she understood the reason behind it, she didn't know how to reassure him it was okay. The only thing that would make him believe he wasn't going to lose her again if he said or did the wrong thing was time.

(Cutting because this got long)

So she started family dinner nights to give her dad a chance to be around her little found family, and she warned everyone else off of drinking the last of Alastor's coffee before her dad got a cup, and she watched her dad lose some of that 'King of Hell' protective shell and become more just...him. Her dad, who told her stories she'd never heard before about her childhood and showed her his sketchbook--

(and dad, really, trying to hide your relationship with Alastor and you had THAT sketch right there? Crying out loud, he might as well have drawn little hearts around it! She even tried to give him an out by asking if he sketched anyone else and he so obviously didn't. She still wasn't sure if she was relieved or irritated that Angel interrupted him, she was morbidly curious what her dad would come up with.)

--and her dad seems to be settling into the hotel better. And sure, he has a few moments, (finding him obviously fresh from the bar if not drunk was a little surprising but not a daily event) but all and all, Alastor seems to have been good for him. Something for him to push against that had no qualms about pushing back and if that was something her dad needed? She was glad Alastor could give it to him. But yeah, she also totally gave him the shovel talk, probably right after Alastor's little tantrum in the city where he ate the guy having the nasty fantasies about Charlie, and (she didn't know the details, Husk only told her quietly Alastor was protecting the hotel and she believed him) she walked in on her dad and Alastor standing suspiciously far apart in the parlor. Lucifer looked about as innocent as a kitten standing over a container of spilled cream and Alastor never looks innocent. She would have stalked right up to Alastor later that day and told him, "I know you and my dad are sleeping together!" Because asking Alastor questions when you want answers is always a mistake, he is a slippery little bastard and managed to slither his way out of answering with a laugh and a 'Oh, my dear, you and your ideas!' all too often.

Ask him directly, interrupt him before he can prevaricate, and you'll eventually dig a path to the truth. Especially since Lucifer never specifically told him to lie about it when directly asked. "What of it?"

And hey, stories about her dad were highly exaggerated, that's pretty obvious to anyone who ever meets him. Stories about her mother? Not so much and Charlie knows things Alastor would never dream she might, not even in his deepest, darkest nightmares, and if he hurts her dad, he'll learn about each and every one of them. But...if you just want to be with him, that's okay, Just don't tell him I know, not yet, I want to give him the chance to tell me! "It is such a joy to have the opportunity to see the more diabolical side of your mind in action, my dear. Rumor leads me to believe your mother would be proud."

"Thanks a lot. Just don't tell him I know, okay?"

"Agreed. The entertainment value promises to increase by the day!"

"What did I just say about hurting him?"

"Ah, ah, this wouldn't be me hurting him, now would it?"

"No, no, no, not another word, I know you, you'll get me thinking this is a bad idea! Just don't be doing any weird plotting or deals or voodoo magic to him, all right??"

"I assure you, Charlie, dear, when I am with your father, such things are the last on my mind. In fact--"

"No details!!!"

"As you wish." So yeah, I think it went something like that. 😂

#radioapple asks #asks #Lucifer and his THNGVBR #RadioApple #Spoilers

[nipuni]

Hey, Nipuni! First off, I want to say that i love your work sooosoooo much and i can’t even truly describe the impact it’s had on me. You’re an inspiration to me!! No matter what your interest is in i will always be a fan. I was really curious and wanted to ask, i think you’ve talked about it a looong time ago but, how long do you reckon it takes your to do your fully painted illustrations these days?? and how long do you wait before posting it, assuming you aren’t sure if you’re satisfied with it. I’ve just been struggling with overworking my art and feeling like it’s not ever ready to post so i was curious. 😟

Hello!! I'm so late to reply I'm so sorry!! Thank you so much for the kind words!! to hear that my work can have such a positive impact on someone is the greatest compliment truly 😭❤️ and thank you for sticking through all my interest hopping too haha

These days it takes me anywhere from 2 to 9 hours most of the time, non consecutive if I can help it, and I usually sleep on them at least one night before I share them. But I've held on for over a month to some just because I didn't think they looked quite right, so I keep coming back to them every now and then and do some small tweaking until I reluctantly post them either out of frustration or exhaustion haha I don't have the patience or the attention span to work on the same thing for very long to be honest, so I've adapted 😆

The truth I like to remind myself of is that once I share something all my focus shifts to my next idea every time so whether I could have done better or not doesn't matter once it is out of my hands. I can always do better on the next one, there is just the comfort of letting go and a fresh start.

I've struggled with overworking pieces to death a lot too. It stems from anxiety really so it's a matter of building confidence, the point at which art is ready to be shared is arbitrary after all. You can convey a message or idea just as effectively through the roughest of sketches to the most detailed oil painting, the rest of the work is mostly towards aesthetic value.

On the technical side of things, when you grow frustrated with a piece to the point where you start to resent it is a good indicator that you need a different course of action. Sometimes bringing in new references can help you find the issue, sometimes the problem is structural and buried under piles of unnecessary detail and you have to go back and redo or remove something you were reluctant to, and sometimes the best thing you can do is to let go and come back to it with fresh eyes when you have learned more. As for studies, working from big to small, training for speed and on a time limit has helped me. Anyway I think I've started rambling, I hope any of this helps!! Remember that art at any stage is better than no art at all!!

#nips replies #will I ever learn to be concise when asked a question #it has taken me years to hone the craft of caring more about my time than my perceived performance!! a most valuable and elusive skill #I'm dead serious

[junowritings]

Raphael being infatuated with a mortal and the interest seems to be mutual (maybe with the mortal bantering with the devil about how he doesn't need to bribe them to get them to spend time with him), but then another person pulls the—probably in human form—cambion aside and tells the him to not try to flirt with the mortal he's infatuated with because, "Them and I are already together." However, this person is just delusional and decided that the object of Raphael's affections interests being polite meant they were dating. The mortal verbally tears the delusional person a new one when this comes to light and lets it slip during the tirade that Raphael's infatuation is indeed reciprocated.

First time writing for Raphael! Definitely gotta brush up more on his character but this was an interesting concept to work with!

You'll have to forgive me for getting a lil carried away with the build up for this one but I do hope that it's to your liking hun~!

=======

♡ The work of a devil means to surround yourself with fools. Fools who put their lives, and their souls, and all that they hold dear on the line in an attempt to vie for the chance to gain something better. Something greater than them - however temporary. And who was Raphael to deny them the opportunity? He is oh so generous, after all.

♡ Raphael makes no attempt to hide how much he enjoys the back and forth - the game of cat and mouse with stubborn souls who have yet to realize that they had been doomed from the moment the cambion had set his sights on his latest mark. They all come crawling back eventually of their own accord; pushed into the corner with nowhere else to turn just as he always warned them. So Raphael is more than content to wait however long that takes. Weeks. Month. Years. He has all the means to bide his time. Raphael can afford the wait; his clients can’t.

♡ But of course he has to find some way to pass that time - to entertain himself while the proverbial counter whittles down.

♡ That is where you come in.

♡ How he found you was anyone’s guess. Maybe you caught his eye, a momentary fancy in the vicinity of his latest client, going about your meager days in a relative peace he was all too happy to break. Or perhaps you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time; strayed too long in his presence or looked too close at the devil in mortal’s clothing till you realized you knew too much. Whatever the details of your first encounter, once Raphael has set his sights on something that he wants, your days of peace without him are long gone.

♡ Such a pesky little mortal you are. A sharper wit and even sharper tongue than some of the suckers who come clamoring to him for their own gain. One who acts as though the sight of the devil at your doorstep every few days is another routine to grow accustomed to. Maybe it is, but don’t tell him that. He’d almost be offended by the lukewarm reception; but luckily for you he finds it humorous, enough so that he sticks around, appearing like a surprise guest at your local haunts, feigning pleasant surprise to have ‘coincidentally crossed paths’ with you when you’re least expecting him.

♡In the beginning Raphael tolerates you - sees you as an amusing way to pass the time when his other prospects aren’t bearing fruit and his creature comforts are proving too lackluster for an appropriate distraction. But the more he visits, the more your life seems to shift to accommodate the devil.

♡ You aren’t the exception to his offers either. He’s produced the idea of a contract on more than one occasion, noting all of the time he took on the details of that little scroll of paper, tucked neatly away at the house of hope for the day that you agree to strike a deal. He says it as though it's fact, and you have no illusions he believes that entirely. But for now it stays as a playful banter, rolling off his offer with a sarcastic rebuttal that he’s better off saving that contract for the next poor soul he latches onto.

♡ It becomes a funny little routine, and the cambion makes no hesitation to make himself at home in your home as though he owns the place. Hells it’s as though he’s claimed the house - and it’s occupants - as an abode away from the house of hope. Knowing Raphael, he probably has. 

♡ You find decorations that weren’t there before; alterations to your wardrobe and home with no room for doubt of who they’re from. Your comment that he doesn’t need to bribe you to get you to spend time with him is only met with a grin that’s all teeth and snark, as Raphael quickly corrects you that these are merely ‘investments’. You never get the chance to find out what these ‘investments’ are for.

♡ In return you listen to his waxing poetics, prodding and poking at the lines he recites as though ribbing an old friend. You know very well that on the wrong day, the wrong word would earn you his ire, but the fear of that being death and not a thinly veiled glare ebbs with each passing day. So you find yourself relaxing, daresay, even enjoying the devil’s company. And Raphael is reveling in the attention, more so than you will likely ever get him to admit aloud.

♡ Raphael will never call it infatuation. Fondness? Maybe; said once or twice with just enough of a casual tone to pass it off as his usual antics. Love is not to be found in his honeyed words and literature. But an appreciation and desire for what he wants? That he can work with, if you’re ever brave enough to ask.

♡ Not that you get to, before someone else gets involved on this little one on one. Really, do none of these mortals value their lives? 

♡ Clearly the fool is nowhere near as sharp as the average mortal, as even the lingering scent of sulfur from Raphael’s latest appearance doesn’t deter them from pulling him aside. It’s a good thing they removed their hands before the devil decided to pry each finger off for the blatant disrespect, scowl already setting deep lines on his face as the being before him rattles on. Something about ‘flirting’ this, ‘don’t try anything that. Boring drivel as far as Raphael is concerned, until it clicks that this person is warding him off from you with claims that they got to you first. 

♡ There are two ways that this encounter would pan out, depending on the mood that this poor sod catches the cambion in. 

♡ IF (and this is a big if) they somehow manage to catch him in a tolerable moment, Raphael will be generous enough to divulge their ramblings for a second. Of course he doesn’t take this seriously. Since when did such feeble reasons as ‘we’re already together’ or declarations of their love for you ever matter? The grin on his face is mocking, downright taunting to the point this ‘suitor’ of yours grows too unnerved to continue this intervention’. 

♡ Otherwise the disgust is palpable. Does this prat think for a second that whatever drabble comes out of their mouth is worth the man’s time? You, he likes. The others, he can tolerate. This little fidgeting pound of flesh? They’re lucky he hasn’t asked one of the pawns at his disposal to get rid of them yet. The only thing that keeps them alive is that they’re simply not worth the hassle. Even though his expression sours and the scowl on his face deepens as his gaze sharpens, dark eyes regarding them as a cat would regard an insect - enough to mess with, but hardly worth the meal to waste energy on.

♡ Raphael is at his core a meddler (to put it in nicer terms), so it is quite frankly a miracle that you don’t hear it from the mouth of the cambion himself after your ‘partner’s confrontation. He pays no mind to baseless warnings, honestly getting a kick out of doing anything but what they asked. Raphael doesn’t just want to wound their pride - he will rub salt, and dirt, and filth into that wound and let it fester for good measure for the insult. And you become the weapon for his self perceived revenge.

♡ The change is unmissable, and Raphael lays it on thick. Your days out in the city never come without the cambion’s company, a hand steadfast upon your lower back to guide you as you go about your errands. He even makes a show of walking you home after every excursion, when before he would leave you to your devices whatever time suited him. If only you knew the smug satisfaction it gave him imagining how your ‘partner’s blood must boil at the very sight. The message is clear: he’s not sharing this one.

♡ The gifts are more blatant as well - with statement pieces too big and too rich for any rational person to afford and yet you find them at your bedside damn near every other morning. Not knowing better you’re wary of his intentions, even though the devil donning his human guise insists that there’s no strings attached to this small transaction. “It’s only fitting that you’re donned in something opulent to match your company, isn’t it?” yet with the way he words it you know that wearing them is more than a request. Especially once you put them on, and catch his smirk of pride. Clearly going along with his ‘requests’ strokes his ego.

♡ This game is dead in the water by a few days, as Raphael’s attempt to rile up that lover of yours has them bursting at the seams in rage. That fool makes another attempt to pull him aside right outside of your door nonetheless, but this time Raphael is far less inclined to give them the mercy of this charade. They’d outlived their welcome the first encounter, and Raphael is in no mood to waste anymore time on them. Even in a human guise he’s more than capable of removing this bore, and only pauses to mull over how long it will take you to scrub whatever gristle is left of this person from your homestead by the time he’s done with them. Doesn’t even bother listening to the same spiel, casting a cursory glance to your front door behind the mortal debating if frying them to a crisp would damage the new decorations. No matter; he could always buy you better ones. 

♡ That line of thought pauses at the sight of you at the door, only catching the briefest look of horror on your face before it scrunches up in anger. You cross the space in seconds - and Raphael is almost impressed by how fast your hands shoot out to wind into the collar of this mortal practically dragging them back and away from the cambion. It looks as though he doesn’t have to lift a finger to solve this little issue this time, if the way your face is alight with rage as you scream at this so-called ‘partner’ about their delusions is any indication. 

♡ Oh, this is too good not to watch, and he is going to stand there and enjoy every second of it. Were Raphael not thoroughly enjoying the show he may have conjured a glass of wine to go along with the entertainment unfolding before him. Instead he will settle for watching the scene play out, far too happy in the knowledge that the pieces fall into place without him even moving the board in this confrontation. He’s seen you exasperated, seeing you upset and angry. But this? You’re pissed; to the point where your mouth appears to run faster than your brain, as in the middle of your shouting you jab a finger in Raphael’s direction, not even sparing him a glance as you snap.

♡ “- And I would take him over you any day! At least I actually like him!”

♡ Ah, there it is. His lip curls in triumph as his eyes blaze holes into the person shrinking and humiliated by your biting verbal assault. They make the mistake of glancing over at him at the wrong time, and for a second they swear they see shapes in Raphael's shadows, a smoldering hellfire behind dark eyes as his lips part, revealing a flash of sharp teeth as he mouths wordlessly to the mortal.

♡ 'I win.' 

♡ They can’t get away fast enough, tripping over cobble and their own feet as they scarper away like a frightened animal. You’re spitting out curses as they go, a final shout to get lost breaking into a breathless huff as you watch them till they disappear from view. It isn’t until they’re long gone that you finally seem to ease, running a hand through your hair with a groan as you bemoan the headache this whole event has no doubt caused you.

♡ It seems for a second that you’ve forgotten your present company; that just won’t do. He sees you calm, watches the anger and tension as it seeps from your body with each haggard breath in the wake of your tirade attempting to recollect yourself. Then he watches you freeze, the tension winding up once again like a coil as the sound of slow, methodical clapping reaches your ears. Raphael waits till you’ve turned, mustering the courage to look the devil in the face before his hands clap together the last time, praising you for the impromptu show. 

♡ You’ve never looked quite so shaken in his presence. You usually shoot back his banter so casually, and now you can’t quite look him in the eye - whatever could have caused that change, hm~? Finally realized the words you’d let slip?

♡ You can’t begrudge him for enjoying the moment, can you? It’s in his nature after all to see opportunity in all circumstances as you’ve seen firsthand. There’s a glint you can’t quite place in his eye as he remarks that he’s impressed; for just a mortal you sure managed to put the fear of the hells into the poor soul - send them running as though their lives depended on it. He knew you were brazen, but this was certainly something to witness. See, this is why you’re one of his favorite mortals, as he’s quick to remind you. 

♡ A kinder soul would broach your feelings, fulfill or ease your fears at having blurted out such a thing. But that’s not a mercy you’re provided this time. It’s not brought up just yet - not here. No, instead Raphael will tuck that little bit of information away for later use at a more opportune time. Another card up the sleeve, though the knowledge stirs up a fire within his infernal soul now that he knows he’s drawn you in after such a tumultuous chase. It appears that this arrangement just became a bit more interesting~

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #request #anon #on todays episode of f around and find out #THIS GUY #raphael the cambion #bg3 raphael x reader

[my-castles-crumbling]

omg okay, I feel like u caused a revelation. 

probably one I should’ve already had. 

“I think it’s possible for you to have had a great childhood AND not be supported now” - You. 

I thought I was. Supported. Now. Because they’ve been doing everything they’ve always done, right? So it was normal. BUT, if they were really supporting me, they’d be supporting me. In the ways I need to be supported, not just the ways they want to support me. 

It’s Purple anon btw :) Ur really good at this advice thing. Like genuinely. Thanks. 

Also you ready? I HAVE NEWS. 

Ask her if it was a date. You make it sound so easy Cas. 

But I decided it was infinitely more embarrassing for it to be a date and I didn’t realise than if it wasn’t a date but I asked if it was. So I asked… 

you ready? (also please be prepared for how absolutely incredibly dumb i’m about to seem. benefit of hindsight and all?) 

Me: *in the kitchen with her, drying the dishes she’s just washed after dinner cause we don’t have a dishwasher- background music was my Chappell Roan playlist, just to set the scene* Hey so, I had the best time on Wednesday. Thank you for planning all that, you’re amazing. 

Daisy: You’re welcome. I had the best time too. Oh and I named the bear, which is getting more adorable everyday, just so you know. I named it Candy. After the road we met on. 

Me: The road? 

Daisy: Yes. The road. I cannot believe you. You don’t remember? 

Me: I- how do you remember that? 

Daisy: I met you. Of course I remember. A invited me to that adorable house party at her friends place, and as if it were in a movie, when I went outside to the street to get some air, on the left was the road sign, and on the right was you. I mean A was there too but who cares? I’m pretty sure she introduced us but I don’t remember what she said. 

Me: And you’re offended I don’t remember? I might not remember the name of the damn road, but I do remember everything she said about you. And your ridiculous outfit that night.  I never did find out where the hell you got that purse from.

Daisy: I stole it from my mum.

Me: But you told everyone a few months later that it got ruined at that party? 

Daisy: Oh yeah it got stained bad. And it was all your fault. 

Me: All my fault? How exactly? 

Daisy: You, you flustered me. 

Me: I? I flustered you? Now that’s hilarious. When did I fluster you, when I rambled on about the moon while we were stood outside?

Daisy: You don’t remember, do you? 

Me: Remember? I remember that night. You had that cardigan on, and you were very sensibly drinking water. 

Daisy: Yeah. And you definitely weren’t drinking water. Plus don’t get me started on outfits. I had on a silly brown cardigan, one of my favourite shirts and joggers. You had those boots, and glasses that everyone swore were a fashion statement, it took four months for me to realise you actually need those. They just fitted perfectly with your look. And your hair, don’t you remember how long it was back then, all wavy in the wind. God it really was like a movie. 

Me: Oh come on, i’m not buying that. Those glasses were dull and my hair was horrifically tangled that evening. Plus, “dumb brown cardigan”, don’t disparage my favourite cardigan of yours. I know you still have it. You wear it when you read. And it matches your eyes. Plus it has little caramel flowers, like the specs in your eyes. And that random shirt had Tori Spring on it. That’s how I knew we’d be friends. 

Daisy: Yeah I remember. You really don’t remember what happened that night? 

Me: I am literally talking to you about how I remember every detail, what have I missed? And pray tell how it was my fault your adorably weird bag got ruined?

Daisy: I- you are quite something. Okay so firstly, I brought up the moon and you not only indulged my random facts, you then gave your own. Then you trailed your hand down my chest, pointing at Tori and left your hand just resting on me as you chatted about how much you adored Solitaire and loved a book that surprised you with twists. THEN you trailed your hand back up my neck to my chin and pulled my face towards you, and whispered something about how amazing my eye makeup was. And then you downed your beer or whatever was in that horrific cup, grabbed my hand and pulled me into the house. Where we then spent an hour or so dancing, closely. Then your phone rang and suddenly you had to leave. You shoved your newest drink into my hand, kissed my cheek, and ran out the fucking house. And then I didn’t see you again for a month. So yeah, I dropped the stupid beer you shoved in my hands onto my mums bag when you kissed my cheek and then I had to explain that I of course wasn’t drinking, which I wasn’t. And then I had to tell her about you. It’s still stained, the bag. That’s how I remember it anyway. 

Me: I- erm- okay you must be exaggerating parts of that. And I wanted to see you, I had that family crisis, I disappeared to everyone. A freaked the hell out. Wait, is that we barely spoke that year? Our friend groups were overlapping so much but- besides a few moments- we didn’t talk much. Christ when you say it all like that I sound like a dick. I didn’t mean to-

Daisy: Flirt with me? 

Me: I didn’t mean to flirt with anyone back then. I was walking, talking mess. 

Daisy: And yet you charmed everyone. 

Me: Oh please, they put up with at best. But I charmed you?

Daisy: At first. Then you disappeared. Then i was less charmed. But it worked in the end, i’m still here aren’t I? 

Me: Yeah. You are. Look i’m sorry if that hurt you, I didn’t intend to but honestly that does sound kind of shitty of me. Why did you start talking to me, after like a year? Cause I tried starting conversations, I really liked you. But that whole year you couldn’t care less. 

Daisy: Couldn’t care less? I had a massive crush on you and you clearly weren’t in a place to be dealing with that. Hell, you’d barely figured out that you weren’t straight. And your parents were being extra dicks. After a year, I thought it’d be fine to be friends with you without getting a silly crush. 

Me: It took you a year to get over me? But 16 to 17 year old me was such a dickhead. How did you ever like her? 

Daisy: I like all of you. 

Me: That was cheesy. But same. For the record. 

Daisy: You like all of you too? 

Me: I obviously met you. You’re the worst. 

Daisy: Thought I was the best? 

Me: You can be both.

Daisy: Can I now? What an honour. 

We carried on in silence for a bit. I added this bit so you could see what gave me the final courage to ask her. Cause- clearly i’ve always been this much of an idiot. 

Me: *a few minutes later, I don’t remember how long it was tbh, Chappell Roan is STILL playing cause she’s iconic* Can I ask you something? 

Daisy: Sure, I guess.

Me: Wednesday. It was a lot of fun. 

Daisy: It was. That happens to not be a question though. 

Me: I- was it maybe, supposed to be a date? 

Daisy: What? 

Me: Shit i’m sorry, it didn’t- I just- It’s okay if not, I just thought i’d ask. 

Daisy: And, if it, if it was? 

Me: Then i’d say you really should’ve told me outright cause evidentially I can’t take social cues and I would’ve been way more romantic. 

Daisy: You held my hand. 

Me: You’re a touchy person. 

Daisy: You won me something.

Me: It made you smile, I always want you to smile. It wasn’t specific to Wednesday. 

Daisy: I’m sorry, are you saying you do all the lovely things you do to see me smile?

Me: Not to see it, that’s a bonus, just to know, that you’re smiling. To know you’re happy. It makes me happy. 

Daisy: I- shit. You can’t just say stuff like that.

Me: Why not? 

Daisy: You are and will always be the weirdest person i’ve ever met. You send crazy signals you know? 

Me: To be fair I don’t think i’m aware that i’m sending like half of them

Daisy: That much is evident 

Me: I was trying to send one now though. See, now you’re the one who can’t pick up signals 

Daisy: And what signal were you sending me? 

Me: You know you’re making this really difficult right? 

Daisy: Have I not proved that half the time I have no idea what you’re saying or doing? 

Me: Fine. I’ll make it easy. Wednesday was not a date because when we go on a date I want us both to know it’s a date. 

Daisy: But you do… want to go on a date. With me? 

Me: I would love nothing more. 

Daisy: You’re an idiot, you know that.

Me: With all the proof you seem to have that I don’t know what’s going on all the time, you’d think you’d have told me it was a date, you know, so that I knew. 

Daisy: This isn’t even the first time this has happened.

Me: I’m fairly certain this is the first time we’ve had this conversation.

Daisy: Maybe but it’s definitely not the first time i’ve taken you on a not-a-date date before.

Me: Don’t act like I don’t also plan nice shit for you.

Daisy: No you do and that’s worse cause then I have to spend ages trying to see if you realise you just planned us a date.

Me: Well obviously I did not realise. 

Daisy: Obviously 

*Small bit of silence*

Daisy: Just to check, this isn’t just a one time thing right?

Me: What? This conversation or our date that i’m gonna plan, and totally upstage Wednesday by the way, just watch me. 

Daisy: You’re an idiot, I meant the date. I don’t want one date with you and I need you to know that. I know you’ve got a lot going on with your parents and I don’t ever want to seem or feel like some kind of pressure against you so if-

Me: Look, Daisy it’s been made abundantly clear to me by A, all our friends, your mum, a tumblr blog and my professors that I could fuck up us, while trying to deal with my parents. At the end of the day, you’re the person I imagine being by my side for like- forever. And if my parents can’t get that, then they’re the ones who are wrong. 

Daisy: Sorry did you just say, my mum, a tumblr blog and your professor? 

Me: Yeah? 

Daisy: What? 

Me: Well- your mum called me last month with a super cryptic message about her supporting me, and that she’d have my back if I needed a parent and that she “loved us together”. In hindsight  I realise she was trying to hint to me to ask you out. 

Daisy: And the others? You told a blog and one of your professors about me? I thought you used tumblr for your cute Harry Potter obsession.

Me: Oh I do. There’s this blog that answers advice and stuff, I just told them I was in love with you and told them about my parents and stuff and they told me that I need to realise my parents don’t accept me, oh and that I need to ask you out. And technically two of my professors know about you. I told my favourite one, it came up during office hours cause were kinda buddies now and turns out she’s a lesbian, and she’s friends with this other professor and he came in and we all chatted about it for a while. So yeah.

Daisy: Sorry, just back up a second, this blog, you told it- you- you told it you’re in love with me? 

Me: Yeah? 

Daisy: You haven’t told me that yet!? 

Me: Oh- sorry I thought it was obvious. I’m in love with you.

Daisy: I- same I guess. Shit Purple- I am being bombarded with information right now.

Me: Sorry? I can stop. Also, “You guess”? That seems a little offensive. 

Daisy: I love you too. I’m in love with you too. But mine is obvious. I have been obviously in love with you for at least two years.

Me: YOU HAVE? 

Daisy: You didn’t know? 

Me: Clearly I never know. 

Daisy: Yes well i’m starting to realise to what extreme now.

*slight silence*

*laughter*

Me: Holy shit i’m so stupid.

Daisy: We both are. And we thought we were so good at communicating. 

Me: I- I don’t even know what to say. 

*we’re very close to each other now*

Daisy: I don’t have to wait until our first date right? 

Me: Wait? For what? 

Daisy: *rolls her eyes* for you to kiss me idiot.

Me: Oh. No. Unless you want to and then-

Daisy: Shut up.

*We kissssssssss!!!!! Guess what? Heartstopper level fireworks ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ Called it*

Daisy: Better plan that date fast.

Me: I wish i’d pulled my head out of my ass faster, I can’t take you on a good date right around exams

Daisy: Well then maybe i’ll just have to keep best date title until after uni exams, then you can upstage me.

Me: It’s a draw at best, if we count Wednesday then we have to count when I jumped through hoops to get you those concert tickets, and then went with you and was super enthusiastic at your dance party.

Daisy: You loved that concert. And if you didn’t intend it to be a date, I don’t think it counts. 

Me: I’m pretty sure we’re gonna be in weird water if we try and figure out whether all the shit we’ve done over the years has been dates or not. So, even? 

Daisy: I’m totally winning

Me: I hate you.

Daisy: No you don’t. 

Me: You’re right. I don’t. I love you. So much.

Daisy: Oh my god.

Me: You’re blushing.

Daisy: Shut up! 

Me: I can’t believe I waited so long to tell you. I can’t believe you love me back.

Daisy: Of course I do. 

There was a lot of smiling and giggling and she teased me for singing Chappell Roan at her and I had to tell about your blog and my whole talk with my professors (I don’t remember if I told you about that).

But I have a girlfriend now. AHHHHHHHHHHH (happy excitement btw). 

Ugh this is so great. She’s been watching me write this over my shoulder and been correcting the parts of our conversation I got wrong. She also says i’m cheesy for giving her such a cute nickname and giving A a really basic one.

Also apparently A knows Daisy loves me? She told you, didn’t she? That stupid ask she sent. Damn her.

Anyways, the love of my life is my girlfriend nowwwwwwww!!!!!!!!

I haven’t decided what to do about my parents fully yet. Me and Daisy agreed to keep this between us (and A, and her mum, and you and my professors) during exams and then over the summer we’re gonna tell our friends and i’m gonna tell my parents and deal from there. So we’ll see.

I seriously cannot thank you enough Cas ❤️ (Daisy says your blog is adorable by the way). 

AHHHHHHHH

I need you to know that I went feral when I read this. I told my wife the whole story and she told me I need to get out more, but I'm just so excited for you <3

Also A did tell me Daisy loves you, yeah. I couldn't just tell! You guys had to figure it out on your own, or you'd never be able to communicate!

Sending you guys all the love and keep me updated!

#ask #asks #ask cas #purple anon