#i think it's the last thing he got to contribute to halo?

[bloodgulchblog]

With the legendary edition of Halo: Reach, one of the bonus items was a top secret ONI packet. Padded. Black. Sealed with the ONI emblem.

Inside was a really cool piece of game memorabilia: Dr. Halsey's personal journal. It included things like news printouts, a scattering of Spartan-II files, and her ONI ID badge.

I have a copy because a college friend dug one up on ebay as a birthday gift soon after release, when they were pretty available.

Luckily, someone uploaded scans of it and shared them on Reddit.

I've reuploaded those scans.

Have fun!

#halo #halo: reach #catherine halsey #halo lore #they actually brought nylund back to write it #i think it's the last thing he got to contribute to halo? #she's a complicated character with regrets and i care about her

[candyflosstoxicity]

Wanna Be Your Setting Lotion

Endeavor x Black!Reader

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI. Power imbalance. Unsafe sex. Creampie. Breeding kink. Breath play. Pain play.

Despite the sizable uptick in his popularity after triumphing over the High-End Nomu, Enji still felt that his ability to relate to the everyday civilians was sorely lacking. There was still some doubt amongst the masses that he could be a suitable replacement for All Might. As much as that stung his ego, Enji knew that their misgivings weren’t unfounded.

He had promised his son that he would become a hero that he could be proud to call his father, and that meant more than just saving lives. Enji had to work to build a relationship with the public, and be a hero that was not only powerful, but approachable and relatable.

So, with his secretary’s assistance, Enji reached out to the most highly recommended media relations agency in Musutafu and requested that they pair him with a very particular type of publicist. He made sure to specify that they had to be thick-skinned and prepared to undertake all the work that would come with being the publicist to the number one hero. Though he had certainly made some important changes within himself, he still didn’t know how to talk to people and didn’t want to send the publicist running for the hills.

That was how you ended up standing outside the Endeavor Hero Agency. The glass skyscraper gleamed brightly under the sun, and really impressed upon you that this was happening. You had been assigned your first hero, but not just any run of the mill hero and it honestly had you feeling nervous in a way that you never had before. It’s not as if you doubted your ability to manage and improve the Flame Hero’s public image, but this was a major assignment that could either launch your career into the stratosphere or sink it like a stone.

After taking a few deep breaths to steady yourself, you walked briskly through the front entrance and into the main lobby, where you were greeted by the receptionist. You explained who you were and what you were there for, and she immediately hopped up from her desk in a panic and hastily led you to the elevator. It did nothing to quell your anxiety, because if his receptionist was losing her cool, what chance did you have against the man?

Upon reaching the top floor, the receptionist all but shoved you out of the elevator, giving you a hasty “good luck” while frantically pushing the button to close the door. You stumbled forward and were faced with a large, hardwood door. Having decided that you simply could not delay your assignment any further, you squared your shoulders, took decisive steps forward, and knocked on the door.

---------------------

That was several months ago, and you could say with hindsight that you were right to be anxious. While working for Endeavor was the best way to cut your teeth as a publicist, the man himself was...something fucking else.

It wasn’t just that he was physically intimidating, with his towering height and mountains of muscle. Honestly, you were able to quickly get past that and start working towards building a friendly, yet professional relationship with your boss. Except, he was the most tight-lipped, awkward person you had ever dealt with when he wasn’t in the process of saving lives. And when he was actually somewhat talkative, he was so intense that it left you flustered.

However, Enji always treated you with respect and courtesy, and when you did well, he told you as much. Heat would crawl its way from the top of your head to the tips of your toes whenever he would tell you, “You’ve done excellent work this week, (L/N)-san. Your efforts are appreciated.”

To anyone else and coming from anyone else, it might not mean much, but Todoroki Enji wasn’t just anyone. He had high standards for all of his employees, and you were no exception. Praise from him was hard to come by, and when it was directed at you, it made you feel some type of way.

It was obvious to everyone with a pulse that Enji was an incredibly attractive man. Indeed, every interview you scheduled for him with a female journalist found him being inundated with coy smiles, flirting, and pointed questions about his relationship status.

To be fair, you had asked him the same question, but only because it was important for you to know as the person who handled all of his public relations. It definitely wasn’t because you were lusting after your client and hoping that he was free to maybe, someday, knock your walls down.

Still, you had always prided yourself on being the consummate professional, so you refrained from asking any questions that were too personal. Even though you were so often alone with Enji in his penthouse office, with little to no interruption, and a lot of plush furniture he could fuck you on…

You shook your head sharply, your dark, curly hair moving with the motion. ‘Focus, bitch. Don’t be a goofy and try to fuck your boss. He would probably fire your ass before you could ask for a crumb of dick.’

It didn’t matter if you hadn’t gotten laid since you started working as his publicist; you were NOT going to fuck Todoroki Enji.

Little did you know, Enji was enduring his own share of suffering and sexual frustration. And he had no intentions of denying himself. For him, it was simply a matter of opportunity.

--------------------------

It was finally Friday evening, and Enji was more than ready for the weekend. After a solid week of double patrols, while squeezing in PR appearances that you had set up for him, he just wanted to sit down in his recliner at home and have a stiff drink. He was sitting at his desk with his laptop open, finishing up some last minute paperwork on a report he needed to submit to the Hero Public Safety Commission by Monday.

Just as he put the final signature on the last page, you came bursting through his office door, without knocking, of course. Not that he minded; it was always a treat to see you, even if you were a bit...distracting. Your shapely legs carried you briskly towards his desk and he couldn’t help but admire how enticing they looked sheathed in your sheer stockings. He almost missed what you were trying to tell him, too busy imagining them wrapped around his waist.

“Endeavor-san, I’m sorry to disturb you right before quittin’ time, but I just finalized the details of your appearance on Present Mic’s late night radio show for next weekend,” you chirped with no small amount of satisfaction. Ah, right; Enji had agreed to make time for that, considering Mic was very popular with the young crowd and an appearance on his show would do wonders for his popularity with that demographic.

“He promised to keep it light and casual, and most of the time block will be spent playing some music that you both enjoy. I cross-referenced his playlist with the list you compiled, and y’all have some bangers in common. We’ll need to go over your note cards again, but I’m sure you’ve got that part covered by now.”

Your eyes were focused on the folder in your hands, flipping through the papers there as you went over the last minute details. Enji’s eyes were watching you, though, and he found himself struggling to give a damn about Present Mic or his radio show. Not when you were standing before him, a radiant vision of smooth brown skin and a halo of curls. How badly he wanted to sink his fingers into them and tug your head back, make you submit to him…

“Endeavor-san, are you listening?”

The question coming from your pretty lips, in that sweet, but sharp voice, was enough to finally get his attention. He tore his gaze from your petite frame and looked up to see your dark brown eyes staring at him sternly. Enji coughed and shifted in his chair, trying to subtly adjust his now rock hard dick.

“My apologies, (Y/N), I’m a bit worn out from this week,” he hastily assured you. “If you wouldn’t mind emailing those notes to me, I will look over them again this weekend.”

Your expression softened and you tossed the folder onto his desk before walking around to the side and perching yourself on the edge. Enji could practically feel the blood rush to his dick with you sitting so close to him, the scent of your perfume immediately clouding his mind. Your already short skirt rode up even higher and he had to force himself to look you in the eye, which he regretted shortly after.

“Have I been riding you too hard, sir?”

Enji’s eyes narrowed slightly at you, thinking that you must be toying with him. But, your face was devoid of cunning, and you seemed genuinely concerned for his well-being. He wasn’t used to that kind of consideration from really anyone, especially not one of his employees.

“No, far from it. You probably take it a bit too easy on me, but you still produce amazing results. I would be completely clueless about this public relations crap if I didn’t have someone as bright and clever in my corner,” Enji rumbled, almost bashfully, the tips of his ears still pink from your accidental innuendo.

He had no way of knowing, but the feeling that Enji’s praise gave you was like a shot of adrenaline to you. Warmth bloomed in your cheeks, and you quickly began stuttering and trying to downplay your contribution. However, Enji was having none of it and reached out to grab your anxiously fluttering hands, which had the desired effect of shutting you up.

But, Enji didn’t stop there. He was tired of you not giving yourself enough credit. More than that, he was tired of only being able to show his gratitude in words. So, he took advantage of your size difference and tugged you into his arms and then settled you on his right thigh, forcing you to straddle the muscular appendage.

“E-Endeavor-san?!” you squeaked out. Your tiny hands were encased in his much larger ones and even that small bit of skin to skin contact was enough to set a fire low in your belly.

“Please, call me Enji. It seems a bit formal considering the things I want to do to you.”

“And what exactly do you want to do to me, Enji?” Your voice was low and breathless, but he could see the excitement clearly in your deep brown eyes.

He released your hands and let his own wander down the curve of your sides to settle on your hips. Still maintaining eye contact with you, he engulfed the soft flesh there with a gentle, but firm squeeze. You gasped softly and instinctually ground down against the flexing muscles of his thigh.

Enji growled lowly in his throat and took one hand off your hip, and reached up to bury it in the soft curls that framed your gorgeous face. At first, he gently massaged the scalp with his fingertips, but when he felt you relax, Enji used the curls at your nape to tug your head back.

He loved how small you were in his arms, how easily he towered over you and controlled your movements. And there you were, gasping and squirming in his lap, letting him touch you in such a dominating way. It stoked a fire within him that he hadn’t felt in a long while, urging him to make you fall apart under his touch.

“There are so many things that I want to do to this tight, little body,” Enji whispered against your throat. He placed a heated kiss there, followed by a gentle nip before continuing, “But, for now, I want you to ride my thigh.”

To his delight, you didn’t hesitate to start meekly rolling your hips forward, your skirt bunching up around your waist with the motions. Still, you seemed to be holding yourself back, and he was having none of that. Using the hand that was still gripping your hip, Enji forced you to press down harder and move faster. Getting the message, you braced your palms against his broad, solid chest and began grinding against him in earnest.

The filthy moans you let spill from your plump lips were music to Enji’s ears, and he struggled to refrain from just ripping your stockings off and sliding your down onto his aching dick. There would be plenty of time for that later, but in that moment, he wanted to make you felt just how appreciated you were.

“Come on, little sparrow, I know you’re close. I can feel you soaking my pants leg.”

The desperation and desire in his voice drove your lust even higher. That, combined with the friction of your nylon stockings against your bare pussy, had you teetering on the edge of release.

“Please, sir!” You didn’t know what you were asking for, but he seemed to. And he was going to make you beg for it.

“Please what?”

“I...I want you to fuck me, sir! Please let me cum on your dick,” you pleaded with a breathless whine, never ceasing your wanton grinding.

“Oh, you will be cumming on my dick. But, first, you’re going to make yourself nice and sloppy for me.”

Enji gripped your hair tighter and pulled your head back until your spine arched. Now, your nails were digging into the skin of his pectorals, but he didn’t care because the end result was you humping against him with reckless abandon. No longer needing to guide your movements, he reached up and wrapped his other hand around your delicate throat, squeezing just enough to make the blood rush to your head. That was just enough to tip you right over the edge.

“Oh, oh!” Your hips began to stutter slightly in their movements as your orgasm crept up on you. A scream that surprised you, but made Enji growl in triumph, was ripped from your throat as you bucked wildly through the peak of your release. Letting go of your tresses and throat, Enji pulled you gently into his chest and ran his hands soothingly down your back. As your body trembled and quaked through the vestiges of your orgasm, he murmured soft praises into the crown of your hair.

“You did such a good job for me, baby girl. I’m so proud of you and all your hard work. Are you ready for your reward now?”

Despite the fact that you had just cum your brains out, his words of praise had you moaning wantonly, your head bobbing lazily in consent. Enji wasted no time in standing you up between his legs, supporting your weight effortlessly as he slid his hands up your inner thighs towards the crotch of your stockings. A brief, but loud ripping sound echoed in the spacious office, and then you felt a cool breeze against your soaked lips. Enji took a moment to run a thick finger through your dainty folds, making you shudder and moan.

Enji considered having you ride him again, but a glance at the large sectional he had in the corner of the room gave him other ideas. Picking you up as if you weighed nothing, he carried you to the luxurious piece of furniture and laid you down on your back. He immediately covered your body with his own and locked his lips with yours, the kiss quickly turning heated. While your lips moved together with unrestrained passion, he busied himself with undoing his belt and slacks. Once he got them undone, he freed his aching length from the confines of his underwear, hissing at the sensation of the cool air hitting the too hot skin.

Pulling away from your soft warmth, Enji made you look him in the eye before he asked, “It seems a bit late to ask, but are you sure this is what you want?”

Thinking he was just being considerate, you smiled softly up at him and nodded in affirmation. He kissed you hard, one more time, before looking down to guide his more than impressive dick to your dripping entrance. As soon as he pressed the head in, you knew what he was really asking you before, which was whether you could handle being stretched to your absolute limit.

You threw your head back, pressing into the soft cushion underneath you, and struggled to breathe around the sensation of his girth splitting you open. It was a good thing he made sure you were wet enough beforehand, otherwise, you were sure that you wouldn’t have been able to take all of him.

Enji made sure to take his time pressing in and withdrawing, inch by inch, enraptured by the sight of your pretty pussy stretching around him. It was a couple minutes more before he was fully seated inside you, the head of his dick pressed snugly against your cervix. He paused his movements to press sweet, but rough kisses along your jaw and collarbones. You reached up and buried your fingers in his hair, applying the barest pressure to bring his face closer to yours so you could press your foreheads together.

“I’d really like for you to move now,” you panted softly. Sure, it was quite the stretch having him inside you, but it didn’t hurt and you were still filled with a burning desire to be wrecked by the giant hovering over you.

Withdrawing slowly, so slowly, Enji paused again to watch your face as he gave a quick, experimental thrust. The cry of pleasure you let out snapped his resolve to continue taking it slow, and he began to fuck into you with a vigor. All you could do is tighten your grip on his red locks and hold on for the ride.

“God, you feel so good wrapped around me. Do you have any idea how long I have wanted this? How many times I’ve fantasized about fucking into you like this, making you my little cumdump?”

Enji was actually caught off guard with how visceral your reaction was to his dirty talk. He didn’t think it possible, but you became even tighter around his dick, nails biting into his scalp, as well. You began trying to thrust back up against him, but he was having none of that. Enji pulled back just enough to take your legs and throw them over his shoulders so he could put you in a mating press.

“Oh gods, yes, just like this, Daddy!” you wailed loudly, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. You were overwhelmed with the pleasure from his rigid member rubbing against your velvet walls with the new angle.

A groan that sounded like a snarl rumbled in Enji’s chest at the sound of your fucked out voice calling him ‘Daddy’. It made him want to grind his dick deeper into you, until all you could see, feel, or taste was him and the pleasure he was giving to you.

“Fuck, if you call me that again, I’m going to fucking cum and I’m not going to pull out.” He expected you to object, or something but instead, you attempted to pull him in closer with the strength of your legs alone.

“Please, please, please fill me up, Daddy! I want it all, please, give it to me!”

Pace quickening at your filthy words, Enji leaned forward until you were practically pressed in half and his thrusts had the tip of his dick bumping your womb with every plunge deeper. You were unable to even scream, the air knocked from your lungs and your brain foggy with thought-warping ecstasy.

“Goddammit, you’re gonna make me cum, baby. I’m gonna fill you up to the brim. Gonna make you round with my child. Is that what you want?”

All you could do was nod frantically, incoherent pleas and his name spilling from your drooling mouth in an endless stream. You would do anything, say anything, just to feel his hot cum paint your walls.

From the way you were clenching and pulsing around him, Enji knew that you were close to the precipice again already, and he was ready to tumble over right along with you. Letting go of the last bit of restraint holding him back, Enji captured your lips in a searing kiss and swallowed your cries of passion as he began to piston into your tight heat, chasing his orgasm and hurtling you towards yours.

A shrill scream muffled by his lips and the sharp tightening of your walls around him signaled to Enji that you were cumming, and he quickly followed after you. His powerful hips stuttered once, twice before he drove his entire length fully inside you and stilled, his head pressed to the opening of your womb. Much hotter than you were expecting it to be, spurts of cum that seemed endless gushed deep inside you, prolonging both of your orgasms to the point of over-sensitivity.

When you both finally came down and got your breathing under control, Enji slowly pulled out from you and gently eased your legs off his shoulders. He gathered you up in an embrace and flipped the two of you over so that you were laid on top of him, head resting against his chest. Again, he stroked your back and sides soothingly, murmuring words of praise and comfort.

For your part, you were fucking wiped, your heart still racing and brown skin dewed with sweat. You could feel cum leaking out of your abused hole, but could hardly be bothered to care with exhaustion and satiation weighing so heavily on your eyes.

With strong arms wrapped around you and every bone in your body feeling like marshmallow, you snuggled closer to Enji and fell asleep to the steady pulse of his heart in your ear.

#todoroki enji x reader #endeavor x reader #bnha smut #endeavor smut #todoroki enji smut #black reader

[jaehyunfirstlove]

Fly away with me...

Pairing: Jaehyun x f. reader

Genre: meet-cute, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, smut (18+ only)

Warnings: aerophobia (fear of flying), mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, death, afterlife, unprotected sex

Word count: 2.8k

Taglist: @jaehyunnie77 (send me a message if you want to be tagged in future fics)

A/N: this came out of a conversation between me and @jaehyunnie77​ :) Hope you like it!

Your palms were sweating.

The uber driver chattered the whole way to the airport, and you wished you could’ve paid attention but your mind kept going over all the ways the flight could go wrong. It’s not that you hadn’t ever flown before, you had, except you were a kid the last time and therefore too young to understand all the different ways it could end in disaster.

“... we’re here.” 

You snapped out of it long enough to realize the car had stopped, and the driver was regarding you with an exasperated expression.

“Ah, yes, we’re here,” you repeated, but made no move to get out of the car. He sighed.

“Miss, I have another ride waiting,” he motioned to a person standing outside the car with their luggage in tow. You sighed heavily, and got out of the car reluctantly.

“Have a safe flight!” the driver called out as you closed the car door, and oh how you wished for the same thing.

---

You watched the clock ticking towards your flight with a sense of dread, with every minute your heart beat faster, your palms clammy with sweat. You wrung your hands, pacing in the terminal while everyone else sat calmly waiting for their flights. 

How could they be so calm? You thought to yourself, wishing you had even an ounce of their resolve. You were practicing your breathing exercises when the dreaded announcement came over the loudspeaker.

“Flight 127, now boarding.”

You panicked, your heart beating out of your chest. You spun around frantically, in a confused delirium, stopping when you started to feel lightheaded. You could hear people speaking around you but you couldn’t make out what they were saying. Finally, your eyes focused and there was someone standing in front of you, the sunlight streaming into the windows framing his head like a halo. His hand was outstretched towards you, and when you looked at his face he was the most beautiful person you had ever seen.

I must be dead, you thought, he must be an angel

“Are you okay?” he certainly sounded like an angel, his voice like warm honey. You welcomed death if this was what lay in store for you. You smiled just as he reached for you, and then your world went black.

---

Your hearing came back first, and the first thing you heard was birds chirping. You opened your eyes, momentarily blinded by the rays of sunlight peeking through the leaves in the tree above you.

I’m in heaven, you thought, that’s interesting

“Oh, you’re awake,” someone’s face came into your vision, and you recognized him as the angel from the terminal. It warmed your heart that he had accompanied you to the afterlife, and you smiled at him in gratitude. “How are you feeling?”

“Perfectly fine,” you replied, because you thought you were. Except that when you tried to sit up, your head spun like a top.

“Easy,” the angel held you up by your shoulders, looking with concern into your eyes, “you fainted back there, just take it slow for now.”

Your short term memory suddenly caught up to you, and you remembered the events that had transpired to bring you to your current state.

“Ah, right,” you rubbed your head in embarrassment, suddenly aware that he wasn’t an angel, just a complete stranger who had helped you when you fainted. You looked around at your surroundings in confusion, very aware now that you were no longer in the airport. “Um, where are we?”

“A doctor examined you and said you’d be okay, that you’d probably just need some air, so I brought you out here. It’s a park across from the airport.” He pointed across the street and sure enough you saw planes taking off, thankful that you weren’t on any of them.

“Oh. Well, thanks. You didn’t have to do all that.” You were grateful of course, but you felt bad that he had gone to all that trouble for you, probably missing his own flight in the process. He just smiled, and you noticed the most adorable dimples emerge on his face.

“It’s not a problem. I couldn’t just leave you lying on the floor like that.” He replied, and in that moment he really did resemble an angel. His hair fluttered softly in the breeze, the smile on his face reaching his eyes. He wore a white button-down shirt that almost glowed in the bright sun, setting off the smoothness of his skin. You wanted to stop staring but your eyes wouldn’t obey you.

“Well, um, I’m sure you have things to do? I hate that I took up so much of your time.” You sat up carefully as he watched you, but as soon as you were upright and feeling better, your stomach suddenly grumbled. You clutched it in embarrassment, but he only laughed.

“Listen, why don’t you let me help you get some food somewhere, and if you still want me to leave I definitely will. Deal?” he held out his hand, eyes wide, eyebrows raised. You couldn’t help yourself, you took his hand, unable to get over how warm it was and how it engulfed your entire hand, and shook it.

“Alright, let’s go,” you smiled, “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Nice to make your acquaintance, Y/N. I’m Jaehyun,” he bowed to you dramatically, still holding your hand, and you had to laugh. He definitely wasn’t an angel, you thought, shaking your head, but he might be a disney prince in disguise.

---

You discovered a cafe down the street, having a really pleasant conversation along the way. You found Jaehyun was a good conversationalist, listening attentively when you spoke, contributing his own anecdotes here and there as appropriate. When you reached the door of the cafe you were actually a little disappointed. You enjoyed his company, and wanted to spend more time with him, but you were hesitant to ask, not wanting to come off as too forward since you just met.

“Oh, I know this place,” he said as he peeked in the window, “they make the best croissants.”

“Oh yeah?” what a perfect excuse for an invitation, you thought, “let me get you one? It’s the least I can do, after you went to all that trouble for me.”

He stared into the window for a minute, and your heart sank, thinking he was going to say no. But then he turned to you, with that dimpled smile.

“Sure,” he said, pushing the door open for you, “they really are too good to pass up.”

You’d lost track of how much time had passed as you sat in the cafe with him, empty coffee cups and half-eaten croissants littering your table. He had the quirkiest sense of humor which had you in stitches, and whenever he would tell a story you found you would listen with rapt attention. Whenever you spoke he would watch you with a smile, eyes bright, and he would look away now and then, but almost hesitantly, like he couldn’t take his eyes off of you but he didn’t want to come off as a creep. Customers streamed in and out, and it was only when someone walked by you, talking loudly into their phone about their missed flight, that brought you into reality.

“I guess I should try to get on the next flight,” you sighed with dread. If it hadn’t been a business trip you would have just called an uber and gone home. As it was, your boss would kill you if you missed this trip. Jaehyun nodded and looked away. You thought he might have looked disappointed, but you definitely didn’t want to get your hopes up.

Calling the airline you found out the only flight with availability wasn’t leaving until the morning. They offered to put you up in a hotel nearby and you accepted, not wanting to deal with the hassle of having to go all the way home and come back again.

“So it looks like I have to stay in a hotel for the night, the next flight isn’t leaving until the morning,” you told him with a heavy sigh. Again you didn’t relish the idea of parting from him.

“I can walk you,” he offered. It didn’t seem like he wanted to part from you either. “I mean, if you don’t mind, of course,” he added with a shrug, trying to appear cool with your decision if you said no.

You couldn’t help it, but you broke out into a huge grin. You felt like a giddy schoolgirl who found out her crush reciprocated her feelings.

“That would be really nice,” you nodded, and the smile he shot your way actually made you weak in the knees. You wondered again if you were keeping him from something, but decided he wouldn’t really be spending this much time with you if he didn’t want to. He had ample chances to leave but he didn’t take them.

As you approached the door of the hotel you noticed his footsteps slowing down, until he finally stopped just a few feet from the door. You turned to look at him, wondering why he’d stopped.

“I guess I’ll leave you here,” he said quietly. He had his hands shoved in his pockets, and was looking down at the ground so you couldn’t see his face. “I’m not good with goodbyes.”

Your heart and mind warred inside you, a fierce battle that ended with your heart in victory. Your mind told you not to do it, but your heart always won out in the end. With no words spoken between you, you slipped your hand in his and tugged him towards the entrance of the hotel.

---

It occurred to you that you probably should have thought this through a bit more, that inviting someone you’d basically just met up to your hotel room might not have been the best decision, but when he pulled yet another orgasm out of you there was no room for debate anymore.

“Does that feel good?” he asked, rubbing your clit gently, making sure it was coated with your juices so the pad of his thumb could glide more easily around the nub.

You only moaned in response as you arched your back off the bed, unsure if you could give him another orgasm but he sure was convincing you. He started kissing up your neck, entering you for a second time that night and you cried out, slightly over-sensitive but still so aroused from everything he’d been doing. It was clear he wanted to make you feel good, his own pleasure almost secondary, learning your body and reacting accordingly.

This time around he went slow, taking his time pleasuring you, his hands and lips all over your body. He rolled his hips achingly slowly, building up your pleasure gradually, so that when you hit your peak it was amplified to a mind-numbing degree. Your vision went white, your toes curled, as you squeezed him, bringing him to his own high with a deep groan.

You lay in his arms afterward, sweaty and satiated, and soon enough fell into a deep sleep.

---

You woke to the sound of his voice, muffled and sounding far away. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes you checked the clock: four in the morning. You’d have to get up in a couple hours for your flight, so you searched the room in the dark to bring him back to bed. The door to the bathroom was slightly open, and coming closer you heard his voice again. You peeked in to see him sitting on the edge of the bathtub, talking to someone on his phone. When he noticed you he motioned for you to go back to bed, and he would join you when he was done. You wondered who he would be talking to at that time but figured it was probably none of your business. You waited in bed and he finally came back, slipping in behind you and wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Sorry about that,” he whispered against your neck, his hand coming up to cup your breast.

“It’s okay,” you breathed, and all thoughts of the call flew out of your head as his other hand slipped between your legs.

---

The next morning you woke to an empty bed. You got up and checked the bathroom but he wasn’t there. There was no note either, you practically tore apart the bed looking for one. You thought maybe he’d gone to get breakfast so you waited a few minutes, but when you got a notification that your flight was boarding soon you checked out of the hotel and made your way to the airport.

You tried not to be disappointed, you tried hard not to be hurt, you told yourself that you barely knew him so it shouldn’t affect you so much, but the tears that pricked your eyes couldn’t be stopped. You wiped angrily at them, angry with yourself, angry with him.

As you approached the terminal your phone suddenly rang, and it was a number you didn’t recognize. Answering it, your heart leapt at the sound of his voice.

“Y/N,” his voice sounded strained, sad.

“Jaehyun,” you wanted to yell at him, you wanted to be angry, but hearing him again just made you want him more.

“I’m so sorry,” he began, “you don’t have to accept my apology, but I needed to explain. Will you hear me out?”

You found a seat in the terminal and sat down, not sure if you were ready for what he was about to say. You even briefly considered saying no, and hanging up, and forgetting about him completely. But you knew you could never forget the angel who’d saved you, who’d charmed you, who’d pleasured you to the point that you’d forgotten your own name.

“Okay,” was all you could say in response.

He let out a deep sigh before he began his story. He told you he’d been at the airport because his flight had just landed, he was back in town to meet with his ex-girlfriend. He had been stalling, wasting time in the terminal because he knew she wanted to get back together with him and he wasn’t sure what to do. He told you he’d been looking for a sign, and that’s when you had shown up in his life.

“It was like a miracle, you know? I literally asked for a sign, and then all of a sudden you were in front of me, fainting into my arms. I couldn’t think of a surer sign than that.” He continued, and you could tell even over the phone that he was smiling at the memory. “I had only meant to get you some help and that was it, but I couldn’t just leave you there afterwards, and I know there were so many times during our time together when I could have left, should have left, really, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I was so insanely charmed by you, I couldn’t leave you if I tried.”

“So what’s changed then? Why did you leave now?” you asked bitterly.

He sighed deeply again, and when he spoke again his voice sounded resigned. “The phone call I got in the middle of the night was from my ex, she was understandably mad that I had stood her up. I explained to her what happened but she just got more upset, so I figured I should meet with her like I had promised to.” He paused but your heart was beating out of your chest at the suspense.

“Are you there now?” you asked, wondering if they had gotten back together.

“No,” he responded right away, “I left. Actually, she threw me out. She was really angry.”

“So… you didn’t get back together?” you needed him to confirm it in so many words.

“No. I never wanted to. I should have just told her that in the first place.” He took a deep breath, and you held your own breath waiting for what he was going to say next. “Y/N, you don’t have to listen to me, you can hate me if you want, I’d understand, but…” He paused, like he was losing his nerve, but seemed to rally and went on. “I really want to see you again. When you get back from your trip I’ll be waiting in the terminal, and if you don’t want to see me just keep on walking.”

“And what if I do want to see you?” you asked hesitantly. You didn’t have to see him to know he was smiling.

“Then I know a cafe that makes awesome croissants.”

---

When you landed from your trip he was there just like he said. He wore the same white button-down shirt, the sunlight from the window once again framing his head like a halo. His smile was only for you, his hands behind his back hiding a bouquet of pink peonies.

You walked towards him, and without any doubts in your mind, you wrapped your arms around him, falling into his embrace.

#jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun smut #nct imagines #nct smut

[sugar-petals]

hey angel (m)

♡  sub!felix + reader 

↳ The JYP Halloween party is ditched on short notice. That means: You have a down-to-celebrate boyfriend in full angel costume on your hands.

words. 5k 

tags. domestic au, finger sucking, hickeys, latex, corruption kink, fingering, vaginal sex, footjob, harnesses, cunnilingus, kitten antics, edging, aftercare 

★⎡CARO’S NOTE⎦› here goes the cutie on duty 👼

genre. domestic + smut/crack

„So sorry mate,“ Bang Chan’s voice resounds through the speaker. „I thought it could work but… We can’t celebrate tonight. Really sorry, Felix. Changbin and I already got dressed up too, but, you know things got shut down. JYP won’t let us with the Corona rules and stuff.“

„Oh no…“

„Yeah, man. Looks like we’ll have to do it next year.“

„You even prepared the food already, right?“

„We’re handing it out to staff and eat it at home. I know, it sucks. I spent half the morning in the kitchen. I can like keep the pumpkin cookies so you can eat them tomorrow after practice or so.“

„I feel so sorry Chan… and thank you.“

„I’ll be calling Hyunjin and Han now as well. Really sorry we’re cancelling short notice. I hope you’re still having a nice evening bro. Maybe we can make it happen for Christmas.“

„Okay. Cheers mate.“

„Yeah, cheers.“

Felix puts his phone down looking more than deflated in his angel costume, puffs out a big sigh. You can tell he really looked forward to this. Just an hour before, you bothered to sew the wings in place rather than rely on the wobbly back-pack like construction that came with it. 

They’re firmly attached to his white top now, and all for nothing. He glued them together by himself with a pack of synthetic feathers ordered on Etsy for a ridiculous shipping cost, along with a little halo that he clipped into his hair. Which, because maybe it really does sense his mood, dangles low and even a bit lopsided over his head.

„It’s the party of the year,“ Felix flops down on the living room couch. “I can’t believe this.“

You sit down opposite to him, starting to clean off the table where masses of cosmetic products and leftover feathers have piles up.

„Next time, Lixie. We can keep the costume. Poor Chan, he organized the living shit out of everything.“

„I’ll just go and shower, get this off, and stuff,“ he points at his face. Felix applied his own makeup with a little help from you here and there, including some golden sparkles. Just yesterday, he bleached his hair. It’s sculpted down to every strand with hair spray now. Felix unties his sneakers with the little gold stars on. Just before he starts plucking off his halo, you get an idea, pick up your phone from the table.

„Wait— Let’s at least make some pictures with your phone, you put so much effort in this. You look so cute. The fans might want to see it as well.“

„Oh! You’re right,“ Felix stops right in his tracks. „For Instagram.“

After tightening his sneakers again and you making sure the halo sights right, Felix walks around your flat in search for a nice backdrop. You follow, quickly flipping through some filters to try, and adjusting the flash on the camera.

After posing at the fridge — strange idea — and in the bathroom turns out a little awkward as well, you decide that such an elaborate costume needs a themed background, and only the bedroom offers just that. You recently changed the duvet to sky blue sheets with clouds on them. The overall interior is mostly clean white as well, with some thrifted vintage furniture. Fairy lights, heavy curtains, a wooden ceiling. Perfect.

„We’ll caption it as… post your own stay-at-home costume, something like that,“ Felix plops down on the bed, acting as if he just took a seat on the cloud in the very middle.

„Sounds pretty good,“ you press release, and the first picture pops up on your screen. „Can you turn a little towards the light? That the sparkles are showing.“

„Yay, I love the sparkles!“

„Just like this, just like this. Don’t move. The sparkles!“

A five-picture series of more snapshots ensues, with you adjusting Felix’s face a few times by hand, even, turning his chin by sheer millimeters to find the perfect angle. He’s stunning.

„I have another idea.“

„Oh?“

„I remember what I wore for Halloween three years ago. The costume must be somewhere. I think it fits together with yours.“

„What, oh wow?“

„What was it again, wait…“

You already begin to sort through your wardrobe, checking each hanger, each drawer, end up where you store your socks, and finally pull out a larger plastic zip bag from the very depths of all that chaos. There it is. Nice.

„Lix, if you’d turn around for me, please.“

He immediately does. Blushing.

„Thank you, angel.“

You pull off your sweat pants, your grey shirt, socks, your bra. Time to dress up. Only your simple black panties stay on. On goes a pair of scarlet stockings, snug and high. Then, a dark red latex skirt that goes in big circles and flounces, down to the mid-thigh. 

Added: A tight sleeveless peplum top that admittedly… and deliberately squeezes your boobs a little. Not too much. More important is that your nipples are showing right through, and the cleavage is sweeping, every demon would be salivating at your feet. If an angel does: Remains to be tested.

Around your waist and chest and over your shoulder goes a black harness, pulling everything together. Some very pointed, glossy pumps with thin heels complete the costume. They’re not crafted to be walked on in the very least, their balance is terrible. You’re planning something else with them. Cherry on top: Devil horn headband. Really curved and pointy, too. Can’t go wrong. You click your tongue and take a spin. The skirt flares out perfectly. Ready to go.

„Felix, time to turn around.“

He does. You can tell he didn’t cheat.

„You’re, you’re so hot in this,“ Felix buries his face right in the comfort of his sweater paws, hoping they would not give away his embarrassed little face. But — his voice does, effortlessly so.

„Come on, have a look at me. Real closely, angel, come. You’re allowed to.“

Felix gazes through his fingers with what sounds like a little meep! in a much more high-pitched tone than his usual speaking range. He’s cute.

„Hey pum’kin. Miss Lucifer speaking. Where’s the barbecue?“

Felix and you recently agreed that hell must be one big and extremely hot cave where everyone’s grilling and having a good time. Australia, essentially.

„Welp!“

„Damn right. Infiltrating God’s realm one cloud at a time. Any last words?“

„It’s so intimidating!“

Felix digs himself into a mountain of pillows on the bed, with only his eyes and nose peeking out. You shrug, adjust your horns.

„Hm. Time for my first satanic act I guess.“

„Oh no!“

„Wait just one minute, be a sweet and patient boy.“

You leave Yongbok confused given that you’re quick to hurry to the kitchen. However, what you return with puts a giggle on his lips right away.

„Boom. It is served.“

„Yes, yes, please!“

Poufy black cocoa cupcakes. The ones with the cute little ghost frosting on it, and the melted chocolate inside. Felix finds them irresistable since the last Halloween party, to the point where you bake them mid-July. The current set of cupcakes was meant to be a contribution to Bang Chan’s eerie and delectable buffet. As for now, they’re in deep need of someone hungry since you made a lot of them, assuming a post-workout Changbin would devour at least five or more.

„Good move,“ he admits, a little shaky, and you proceed to tray the cupcakes on the bed — stuffing Felix for a solid ten minutes until there’s chocolate all over his face. What you’ll be quick to confess is that you’ve been deliberately messy feeding him, with all the crumbs in particular.

„Spoiled honey bun,“ you plant a kiss on top of his head.

„These taste so good, I swear.“

Next up is Felix who has to carefully maneuver the sweet treats into your mouth without spoiling your outfit.

„If you get crumbs into my cleavage, I can’t put your face in there later you know.“

Fierce nodding.

„That’s the spirit.“

Under your eagle eyes, he proves to be an obedient little cherub doing his job pretty well. The cakes are delicious in how spongy they are, and the liquid chocolate warms up so well on the tongue, it melts even more. You’re more than pleased and have Felix store away the remaining four pieces only after quite a while.

„I’ll have them for Brekkie, woo!“ is what he’s fast to proclaim, and you agree he’ll need them the next morning. Once you’re done with him, that’s gonna count as a hangover even Chan’s wildest party couldn’t give him.

„We’re talking dinner first, Felix.“

At this point, all the sugar is kicking in. Or it’s the chocolate being some kind of aphrodisiac. Whatever, could be either, you’re feeling like you’re up there at the ceiling, and you’re not the only one. Felix coming back to the bedroom so bouncy and cutieful just gets you even more in the mood.

You sit at the edge of the bed, slanting backward just a little. „You look like you need some more corruption, I won’t lie,“ you pat your lap, beckoning. He can ditch wifi because this is his favorite hot spot waiting for him. Felix sits down looking tiny as ever, eyes full of anticipation and his pants full of… big fat late night erection.

„I don’t mind at all, Miss. I don’t, oh my god…“ he mumbles into his nonexistent Aussie trucker beard, and you’re clear that whatever the skirt did to him, his brain must be doing kangaroo somersaults right now. In the meantime, something very eager is poking right at your lower belly. Captain Boomerang already came fully armed tonight and the Suicide Squad isn’t even anywhere near to be seen.

„Oh hey hey, cupcake. Getting really big there,“ you wipe at the curled little corners of his mouth. Some crumbs come off. His lips already twitch the way you know they want to do naughty things on you. He doesn’t seem to notice. Autopilot Felix has already taken over.

„Don’t hurry with it,“ he stares, mouth half-open, but his little grinds prove him a dirty — in an entirely direct sense — fucking liar. Like he’s literally rubbing himself against your stomach.

„Boy oh boy. You’re not even trying.“

„I’m fucked!“ is what Felix soon realizes with the daggers you’re shooting at him through your hopefully very satanic-looking eyes right now. Alongside catching up with his darn hips doing their own thing.

„You are.“

„I’m sorry for grinding, God help me!“

„He won’t. Cuz I’m here on your cloud. Cue stage number two of my demonic plan. Safeword?“

„It’s chocolate!“

„Mh. Good pick.“

The rest as usual. Tapping the thigh, yellow for pause, towels plus water ready, and always double-checking the lube in case of Jisung putting a glass of vegemite under your bed as his latest practical joke. Yes, it happened. It’s a whole new level of demonic. On the other hand: perhaps Felix’ ass could’ve actually handled it, Made in Australia it is. 

„Let’s go honey angel,“ you curl at his hair with a little finger just to tease him a little more. The answer is a little meow, at this point Felix’ communication skills have simplified to kitten vocabulary which always happens when he is nervous and looking forward to something.

Next thing poor Felix knows, his face has entered the scorching satanic abyss that is your cleavage. Literally, you’re burning up. It’s fucking October and Felix has you breaking a sweat from all your horniness (literally, your horns are just that chic) already. Twice the reason to punish the shit out of him. If that can be considered anything near a punishment.

A shower of various „Mh— nh!“ and mewling noises comes to rain down on you while Felix face takes a trip down mammary lane, and that, too, is literal. He’s salivating. So much about rain. Actually, great lubrication. Felix always does things best by instinct.

„Yes, good boy. Great job.“

Now that his mouth is wet already, you’re unceremonious about shoving your fingers right down his throat after he resurfaces. Blushed, hard, and ready to choke himself since he’s already running short on breath. It doesn’t take long until he’s gagging himself stupid and the sparkles under his eyes start running.

„Pretty, pretty,“ you lean down a little, kissing his nose. „Give me all you got.“

„Gh—gch—“

The answer is as slobbery and unintelligible as can be. To a normal human, at least. You’re a demonic top. That automatically means having an Ivy League major in gag noise translation.

„Oh yes, I know,“ you stroke his hair, using your free hand that usually rests at the back of his neck. „Talk to me about it. Exactly what I was thinking. Do go on.“

And he does, louder than ever. If there’s one satisfying sound, it’s this, that heavenly deep voice doing all kinds of nasty acrobatics is making you go crazy. That Felix is absolutely close to cumming in his angel pants is very much clear to you given how the veins and muscles on his neck are having a chaotic Halloween party on their own.

Which includes his tongue taking turns on your two fingers as well. And a wide-eyed Felix struggling, swallowing, holding on to your shoulders with his little feet twitching in their sneakers. Like mad… and you love it. But also — hopelessly sucking and moaning and slurping and squealing until his neck has way too much saliva on it for you not to make it your next target. Felix is so good at this. Way too good.

„Looks delicious,“ you lean in, your hair tickles his ears. And now, you’re busy nibbling, biting a little… and most importantly, giving Felix a wet hickey that will send his makeup artist — my God, you really torture the unsuspecting man almost weekly — into a meltdown. Rowdy and unholy is the look you’re going for.

In the meantime, Felix is still wrapped up trying to hit your fingers at the back of his throat. If his cute bouncy run and rude boner moment didn’t turn you on already, now you would be. The way he’s just sucking in his own spit makes you realize that you won’t ever need a fire brigade for your flat.

You emerge from his neck and raise your brows. Felix is just hard-wired to impress. „Just how much saliva can you produce!“

„Ch… Mnh— Nh…“

Hitting some more complex syntax and consonants there, is he.

„Oh, I get it now. You stayed hydrated during the day. Thanks for explaining, mate. That’s the secret.“

Whether that’s perfectly scientifically correct down to the enzyme theory and shit neither of you can google right now. At least you know that you’re both drenched on either end so that’s that.

Once Felix is so horny from deepthroating your damn hand that he has pull off and yellow-word, you’re already prepared for introducing a new position which you can prepare while he’s gathering himself and wiping off his chin. You hand him a second towel for his neck, and present him a little hand mirror to see how the hickey turned out.

„It’s shaped like, hm,“ he pants, words still slurring a little. „I dunno! It’s really cute!“

„Let me see… No doubt that’s a rice cake hickey. That’s the shape.“

„You’re right!“

And off he goes snapping a selfie with it while you get comfortable on your back, cleaning your own fingers.

„Just don’t upload that one to Insta instead of the cloud shots, we’re not gonna survive another Manager call at 1:15 AM.“

„Can I use your phone for it? That’s where it’s supposed to be on, anyway.“

Felix giggles a little. That cute brat. Always knowing how it’s done.

„Sure babe!“

And voilà, Felix is already occupied setting a good view of his new rice cake-shaped friend as your phone background. Good thing, helps his erection cool down a little, he was about to blow up his poor white pants. The acceptable unfair feat being that he’s just riling you up even more like that on the other hand.

„If you come to mommy now,“ you wriggle one foot in the air, the other splayed on the duvet, knee slightly bent. „Rubbing her pussy and doing your thing, you know how it goes.“

„Angel duties calling! What am I doing!“

At the speed of sound, Felix stores your phone back on the bedside table and crawls over in an instant. He props his chin on your abdomen and blinks.

„Sorry Ma’am. At your service. Never wanna keep you waiting.“

A big smile rouses his cheeks, and you boop them from either side. His peach fuzz is so soft and his eyes are so beautifully dark. You don’t waste any time keeping your skirt down for any longer. Another blink and Felix is already pawing — well, kneading and caressing technically — between your legs. He’s visibly understanding just how wet the whole finger sucking circus has left you now.

„What if I used my heels on your cock, boo. Still no cumming. Just my heels and my lil’ prince.“

Satanic plan stage number three. Felix has gotten to savor it last Christmas and for his birthday, and some time around the holidays in summer.

„I love it yay!“ Felix claps his hands. Baby, baby.

„C’mere then. Just keep on rubbing.“

His arms are fairly long enough. While you’re dragging the slender heels of either shoe right across the outlines on his crotch, Felix, eyes loosely closed, maintains a steady rhythm on your clit with three fingers lined up on the fabric of your panties.

„Oh fucking hell, Felix, shit—“

Whenever you masturbate, that alone would never do. You’d get frustrated after a while. Need more stimulation. But when Felix is on angel duty to keep your pussy soaked, it doesn’t need much to make your clit throb, even with your underwear still on. Guess that God’s little helpers know how to work their magic to make your head spin.

He’s hitting the right spot, with the right moves, and his other hand doesn’t miss out on a single opportunity to stroke at both the in- and outside of your thighs. The touch is so subtle, you twitch. Felix strokes on, delirious himself. His eyelids flutter.

„Fuck…“

Despite the little pause from earlier taking out most of his tension, your heels leave Felix with pants that are even more bulged out. That’s making it easy to direct your feet to jerk up and down at either side. You’d never know either of you would be so into this. Foot fetish and all.

Once he’s edged you to the point of moans, last thing you properly remember is calling it quits with the panties and telling him to line himself up. The heels kicked off, the skirt still on, you decide that unpacking your Halloween treat has been long overdue. You slide his pants down, roll down a pink condom, and grab his cock at the base to glide it all over your wet lips.

„Lix, come fuck me. You got me all horny. Satan is recruiting.“

„With me it’s not sinning,“ he smiles, brighter than the sun and you do right along. It’d be hard not to. Felix truly has the innocence of a virgin, the subtle confidence of an intermediate, the caution of a pro, and the kindness of a real veteran.

„You’re right about that Felix,“ you say, prop your entrance at the very tip, let the wetness do its job. „Come kiss your honey girl.“

And he does. Entering you with care for the right angle, letting your hip do the rest. What’s been circling and sucking your fingers so deliciously is now doing a hot job teasing and pleasing your tongue all over. His lips are amazingly soft and plump, they open so gently and feel electric on yours. A gentle squeeze around your left breast sparks a moan into the kiss from you. It’s Felix massaging your breasts while deepening his penetration, and you can tell the vegemite can stay under the bed today. You can tell Felix is getting more than flustered knowing it was all him who made you this dripping wet.

Even his dick seems to blush in sync. It’s fucking pink and red. Oh wait, that’s the condom. But knowing him and from your viewpoint, it’s still more flushed than before, no kidding. Faithfully pumping in and out of you at its full length now. You wrap your legs around his waist, the thrusts become deeper, shorter, parting you open much more, and filling you out so properly.

„So good. Right there, angel. Just right there. I’m loving that.“

Felix has a great dick. Best handy size, the girth’s comfortable, all nice and bendy, virtually no curve, you can always gyrate on it in any way and even take a complete 180 if you go from cowgirl to reverse (which you’d be doing right now but he’d crush his wings if he were on his back like that so no). Cherry on top, compact but soft balls that don’t steal the show but still do the trick during doggy. They’re whipping up the best cum in the world, so.

The slow kissing goes on and on and Felix tries to walk the tightrope of neither letting your pussy lips suck the orgasm out of him, nor making you cream his cock with shaky legs from all that gorgeous sloppy friction, and the kissing, and his sweet cherry shampoo scent that has your brain in absolute limbo.

With everything hanging by a thread like that, every kiss becomes special and full of a suspense that makes your lips tremble — either set, and Felix can hardly bear it himself.

His little halo is dangling back and forth, and you can tell by his face that all that thrusting has him in serious trouble. And you? Are fucking leaking and groaning, and that little shallow series of first contractions before your orgasm is already preparing you.

The sugar high from the cupcakes is fading, but your adrenaline is sure to replace it. You just want Felix to fuck you more and rock against him, and hold his head, and kiss him. God, his mouth is so warm and inviting, tastes so good like cocoa.

The pace joins yours without any effort, it adapts when your rhythm changes, and it stabilizes everything when you’re currently riding the high of his cock really filling you out so you can clench your muscles around him, feel him and tell him just you wait, I’ll milk you. He’s such a good kisser. You can feel all of your wetness running down your ass like it’s Christmas.

„Felix, I’m overflowing.“

„I’m so sorry,“ he whines into the kiss. „I’ll be washing the sheets.“

„Listen, baby,“ you break the tongue-on-tongue, „you doing laundry is really sexy. But the overflow is the best part. Just look what you’re doing to my body.“

You could ravage him on the spot. He’d probably lose it and cum in two seconds. Holding yourself before the edge is so tough right now.

„Shit… yellow again. Need a moment.“

Felix has to resort to a bit of cockwarming, and you use the little break to rid yourself off the harness. It’s not perfectly comfortable when you’re lying down. You’re about to fling it off the bed that Felix asks to wear it. Oh. Very well. It actually goes as a nice contrast on his white top, and the straps make it easy to adjust to him. And he wants it to sit on him really tightly. Oh again.

You realize—

On you, it’s only a fashion piece. Something random that came with the costume.

On him: It’s kinky.

„Hey hey. You look sexy, pum’kin,“ you pat at his chest. „Look at your waist, wow.“

Your sweet boy. It’s like it’s made for him. So cinched and the exact opposite of his costume. He’s a corrupted, dirty angel now, it’s perfect. With his pink neck and all sweaty face, and his little puppy gaze that will haunt you in your sex dreams because it literally just gets into your pants so much. Oh god, you just wanna cum. You have to distract yourself with chaste images of Felix washing the dishes or writing grocery lists with little hearts and emojis on them but that just makes it five times worse.

The way he puts the harness on with his dick inside you is so mouthwatering and cumworthy, you can’t wait to resume and switch your own brains off on that angel cock. Once Felix is ready to exit phase yellow and resume the session, your hands magically gravitate towards the straps of the harness at this waist.

„Can I?“

„M—hm!“

You have the time of your life grabbing and guiding him by the harness, controlling every thrust. Felix clenches up his teeth from how lavishly his cock is squeezing into your pussy.

„Oh babe,“ you groan out. „Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. Come on, angel.“

He’s not going to take it much longer. Felix is tensing all over, neck to the knees, it’s a huge shock wave in the making. That climax is going to be like a fucking punch into outer space.

„I’m really at my limit, I’m, I’m…!“

„Cum for me, angel,“ you reach to his neck to bring his lips down again. Your mouths going into shaky contact brings a big soaring moan with it.

„Ahn—!“

You lock lips, his face scrunches up, and you can tell that cum worth of three orgasms is currently pooling into the condom. You don’t belong to the mile high club, but going by how far up this feels, you might as well be. Those sweet shivers. And the little whines. It’s all too much for him, this one got him bad. Felix cumming is like the angels really are singing. With bells and harps and all that shit at once.

After pulling out, the ruined condom goes off lightning fast. Felix’ cock gets some much-needed cooling, but his face is on heavy duty. How he does it after almost getting his lights turned off, it’s a mystery, it must have been six whole loads he shot into you. You’d already be collapsing in his shoes. Felix still being able to put his mouth to work is an act of divine intervention. Honestly though, it doesn’t even take half a minute. Sloppy head from Felix is cryptonite, your stamina comes tumbling down. His tongue just knocks you out with an overwhelming rush of pleasure.

“Oh— yes...”

What is gravity? You don’t know what north and south mean anymore. He laps and sucks you through your high and your legs give up their soldier service. All you see it fluffy blonde strands of hair peeking from below your skirt, a glimpse of the harness, the rest is heavy growling and swearing from all of the contractions and Felix getting raw and dirty Down Under with no fears, literally none, to bury his face and move it around and let his tongue loose. Time and again Felix shows you he’s a swallower. Satanic agenda: success.

For tonight, your pussy will be nothing but glitter, cum, and spit. Swollen like crazy, properly fucked, and tipped to the absolute limit. Felix keeps on slicking up his face completely, and then brings you into the afterglow with his fingers. One at a time, barely adding stimulation. Just fetching you where you are and climbing down. Looks like you’ll share the cupcakes, this is a couple hangover in the making. In Felix’ case in particular. It’s like he signed up for testing a mad scientist’s latest designer drug.

„Wow wow… So you served me choco cupcakes and God’s menu,“ is the last thing he can say in his delirium before falling over. He’s so fucked out and went so wild on eating you, a part of the harness came off. Thank god his nose is so small, all that swiping could’ve broken the bridge and whatnot. And his lips, they’re twice as plump. You really have to compliment in on what his mouth has done today because that was some champ shit.

You’re both buffering on the sheets for a solid five minutes until you roll to the side. Towel… water… forehead kisses. Yes, forehead kisses most importantly. After gathering yourself a little, you pamper Felix into a heart rate around 90 rather than 120. And with the onset of exhaustion for the two of you, that’s not too hard after some minutes passing. Whispering sweet nothings and praise is all you do up until 2 AM and after. Felix is somewhere between worlds, one foot in the door of the dreamland, the other soaking up the care and the intoxicating, thick scent of the room that has a lot of cherry shampoo in it.

At some point. You loosen the harness, pull off his shirt with the wings attached. The halo you unsuccessfully try to spot in his hair. Turns out: It flew off. Felix really must’ve made Satan proud if it fell down just like that. Good job. Felix has earned a title of being a dirty angel now, and by the way he’s chugging water now, a wet one on top of that.

Five tons of spit, six, seven, who knows how many he’s afforded for today. A head pat is not enough, it has to be several, and Felix passes out onto the pillows. As good as you can, you wipe him down, bin the condom, get off his shoes and his half-pulled down trousers. After staggering to the bathroom, your skirt and peplum shirt follows, the stockings stay on, they’re cozy as hell. Last but not least, you remove your devil horns. It feels like they granted you the most unknown demonic powers.

Next time Felix is on his way to making you cum again, you’ll be wearing them, and you’ll last the way you did tonight. Meanwhile, Bang Chan is blowing up your phone because Felix pressed send by accident earlier, but you don’t notice. It just keeps on vibrating on the bedstand and Chris will have to riddle over the rice cake selfie for the rest of November.

Felix dozes with an angelic little smile on his lips and puffs his cheeks in his sleep, his makeup wiped and his hair truly messy. Instagram can wait. Maybe you’ll get to brush your teeth a little later, it usually takes some time until you wake up again and topple to the sink. You huddle together, tuck your sweet baby pum’kin into his second favorite spot at your chest. Ah, the glory of Felix little spooning.

As the last signature, you nibble at his ear, call him your cutie pie, and switch the lights off. You have to listen closely but if you do, it’s like Felix is purring in his sleep. Whatever your own dreamland is planning to launch on you tonight, you’re looking forward to it.

© 2017-2020 submissive-bangtan. all rights reserved. reposts, modifications and translations are prohibited. character depictions are fictional & for entertainment purposes only.

PS — oh, my good ole fellas, a last cursed disclaimer. i must insist on the following for obvious reasons. vegemite makes for some terrible strap lube okay 😂🇦🇺

like my writing? donate: ko-fi

#felix x reader #sub!felix #felix smut #skz #stray kids #felix x dom!reader #skz smut #lee felix #lee felix smut #lee felix fanfic #skz fanfic #female reader #sub!skz #sub!stray kids #sub felix #sub skz #felix fic #original content #hey angel

[gra-sonas]

Day after day this summer, with covid-19 shuttering much of the world, Lily Cowles would enter a small sewing room in her family’s 18th century home in Northwest Connecticut, crawl inside some blankets, and scream. Along with her wails, she’d repeat the same phrases, over and over — all part of a daily ritual that spanned some four hours, until a collection of voices told her they were satisfied. Then she would collect herself, climb out from the blankets and greet her boyfriend who could hear her through the walls in the next room.

“Man, you died a lot of ways today,” he’d say.

“I don’t know why they killed me so bad,” Cowles would reply.

Such were the unusual conditions for Cowles and others when recording the dialogue — and other vocalizations — for the upcoming game “Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War,” the newest addition to the famed and fanciful war sim series. The blanket-draped fort served as the actress’s workstation, with a host of audio producers providing directions via video conference. Occasionally those instructions included imagining a wide variety of fates for her character, requiring lengthy sessions capturing death cries. All of it was part of a months-long, pandemic-related process to produce the game, one that proved both challenging in its never-before-done nature and cathartic for its ample opportunities to exorcise the many anxieties of 2020.

“It just felt so good to scream for that long,” said Cowles, who plays MI-6 operative Helen Park and supplied the character’s voice for both the game’s story and multiplayer modes. She recalled one session in which the game’s audio producers recorded her falling from a 30-story building. “I was like, ‘can we make it 40 floors? I could really use the extra 10 [stories] of just straight screaming.’ It just felt like a real relief.”

The unorthodox routine was shared by “Cold War’s” cast of 125 actors as they pivoted to follow safety protocols related to the novel coronavirus, which temporarily shut down the game’s production in March. The latest installment in the Call of Duty franchise, releasing Nov. 13, was completed with both developers and actors working remotely and overcoming a variety of logistical challenges.

“At the time [in March, when covid cases escalated in the United States] we thought it might be like 20 people or 50 percent of the studio who would have to work from home, and maybe that would be for like two weeks,” Dan Vondrak, Senior Creative Director at Raven Software, said. “And then it was everybody. … In my head, I was thinking, if this thing lasts six to eight weeks, we can’t get it done. That’s impossible.”

For Cowles and the game’s other actors, that meant recording lines of dialogue — and their many screams — from the confines of their homes. That process normally would be captured in large part during live shoots using motion capture suits on a studio sound stage. During the pandemic, capturing those recordings provided a unique challenge for narrative producer Natalie Pohorski and her team.

“One of those areas I thought we were just dead in the water was the external talent [voice overs],” Vondrak said. “I can’t have actors go into a studio. So, how is this going to work? And what Natalie and the narrative team did to get that to work and have people recording at home was unbelievable.”

Before dispersing from the studio, Pohorski and Vondrak estimated they had between 50 and 60 percent of the voice over work finalized. Working with their partners at Activision (the game’s publisher) and Treyarch (“Cold War’s” co-developer), Pohorski and her team shipped the actors crates filled with recording equipment that included helmets wired with microphones, sound mixing boards and materials to improve the acoustics around their homes.

“They sent me this giant Pelican briefcase that looked like I’m an arms dealer,” Cowles said.

Veteran actor Bruce Thomas, who plays the role of CIA agent Russell Adler in the game, already had a 5-foot-by-5-foot sound booth he’d constructed in his apartment adjacent to his kitchen. He’d used it to previously to record voice overs, including for some commercials, but he’d never recorded himself there quite so regularly — or at quite the same volume level. To that end, he sought to get ahead of any potential problems with a kind gesture and a heads-up for his neighbors about any yells they may hear through the walls.

“I delivered cookies and a little note to their doors right next to me and below me,” Thomas said. “I just moved here in January, so I hadn’t really met them yet, and I got a text message from the person below me who was like, ‘Oh my God! You do that for a living? How cool is that? Even if I hear you, don’t worry about it.’”

The conditions also required the actors to perform another role as well: that of audio engineer, recording and tinkering with sound levels to ensure quality and consistency. The studio’s engineers would call actors and walk them through proper setups and troubleshoot issues, but when something went wrong, the actors would have to be the ones to fix it manually. Turns out CIA operatives have the same tech troubles as other remote workers.

“Because of covid, everybody’s home and sharing bandwidth,” Thomas said about the Internet connection in his apartment building. “Sometimes it would just cut right out [during an online recording session]. And sometimes when that happens, a glitch will happen on your laptop and so you have to reboot it.”

The recording process consisted of four sessions per day, every day of the week, according to Pohorski, who also noted they wrapped at a similar time compared to what they’d anticipated in their pre-pandemic production schedule, even as they navigated challenges that would have been easily addressed in their usual studio setting.

“To not be able to just walk up and touch the screen and act out what I was talking about … ‘I want the guy’s head to turn this way,’ … I was trying to do it real time in a video camera,” Vondrak said. “Just the communication of that last 20 percent [of the game] was probably the most difficult.”

The on-the-fly evolution of several standardized processes did carry some fringe benefits, according to both the developers and actors. On the development team, Vondrak noted some people seemed more willing to contribute their opinions to the creative process when they didn’t feel the pressure of speaking up in a formal meeting. For the actors, Cowles said her isolated, remote location led her to take more chances with her character.

“I think I was able to make facial expressions and noises that, in a normal setting, my body would be like, ‘Don’t, don’t, don’t. You don’t want to make that noise. Don’t make that face,’" Cowles said. “But I was alone in this thing, and you know, the context in which we’re working [as characters] is this crazy war zone where horrible things are going down. Right? And no one in that situation is thinking about the sound they’re making or the face that they’re making. … I think that led to a degree of authenticity in my work.”

Another silver lining, according to Vondrak, was the increased flexibility in scheduling follow-up sessions for VO work. Oftentimes VO recording sessions are pegged to specific times of the year when the developers can gather all the actors in one place and free them from their other projects. (For example, Thomas is also the motion capture actor for Master Chief for the upcoming game “Halo: Infinite.”) With everyone working from home, the actors’ schedules became more flexible.

“It was like, wait a minute, we can just go back to these people and have them pop out of their family room, into their closet and record some VO lines,” Vondrak said. “Normally it would have been like, ‘We need some new lines.’ And [the schedulers] would have said, ‘Well, the next pick up session where everyone’s going to be in the studio is June.' It’s [normally] a very slow, formal process."

The flexibility did carry an occasional side effect of home life encroaching on the working world, and vice versa, often providing a uniquely 2020 kind of amusement.

Cowles remembered recording a scene in which her character laments the loss of one of her companions, screaming his name repeatedly as a helicopter whisks her away.

“I came out of the sewing room, and my boyfriend is like … ‘So, who is he?’” Cowles said. “I was like, ‘Don’t worry about it. He’s dead now.’”

#lily cowles #call of duty: black ops cold war #rnm cast interviews #helen park

[coppicefics]

Masked Omens: Week One

New chapter here, or read from the start here!

(Right click picture and select ‘View Image’ or ‘Open Image In New Tab’ for hi-res version.)

[Image Description: Image 1 - A simple rendition of the Masked Singer UK logo, a golden mask with colourful fragments flying off of it. The mask has a golden halo and a golden devil tail protruding from either side. Below, gold text reads 'Masked Omens'.

Image 2 - A newspaper page from the Capital Herald, dated Saturday, 26th December, 2020. Full image description and transcription below the cut.]

The Capital Herald, Saturday 26th December 2020 News, page 11

GODLEIGH MANOR RESTORATION SET TO BEGIN YouTube Community Comes To The Rescue Of Historic House In Unprecedented Donation Spree Restoration work on Godleigh Manor, Little Dyvyn, is set to proceed at last after years of stagnation – thanks to an unexpected influx of donations from interested members of the public. A house has stood on the site since at least the early 13th century, but most of the current building was constructed in the 18th century by its then owner, Lord Michael Godleigh. It remained a private residence until 1914, when it was commandeered as a military hospital for officers injured in the First World War. When the war was over, the officers went home, but the Godleigh family had suffered severe losses, and those who had been involved in treating the injured officers had many bad memories associated with the place. What was left of the family moved out, and – barring the operation of a second temporary hospital during the Second World War – this once-busy house has remained empty and silent ever since. Left to its own devices, the house began to crumble. Water found its way through the roof, and weeds forced their way up through the floor. By the time the deed to Godleigh Manor was passed on to its current owner, Lucy Godleigh, in the mid-1990s, barely a few rooms were anything close to habitable. “I set up in a mobile home on the grounds,” Godleigh told The Capital Herald, “and basically just started trying to secure the few rooms that hadn't been completely exposed to the elements. Then I contacted a restoration expert to find out what could be done for the rest of it.” The experts' verdict wasn't what she wanted to hear. “There was no chance I could pay for it myself. The rest of the family opposed me moving back here; I was on my own. And to get the whole place back to the way it was, we were looking at anything from fifty million to three hundred million pounds. I was going to need help raising the funds, so I started campaigning. But it was slow going. Nobody's keen to put their hands in their pockets to restore a stranger's old family pile.” And, for over two decades, it seemed that a pile would soon be all that was left. Godleigh moved into Little Dyvyn, and the property was abandoned once more to the tender mercies of the elements and the frequent trespassers who came to explore. “I'd go up a few times a week, but it hardly seemed worth it. I'd all but given up. But then one of those visitors saved the day.” A YouTube personality known as Sergeant Shadwell, famed for his urban exploration videos and the occasional paranormal investigation, contacted Godleigh to ask to film in the house. “I said yeah, whatever, do what you like, it's a mess,” Godleigh recalled, “and he saved it. He saved my home.” Shadwell uploaded a video of Godleigh Manor in the last week of November. In it, he speaks frankly about the challenges and benefits of preserving such old buildings. “I don't know about there being ghosts here,” he tells viewers, “but there's a lot of wasted potential. Stately homes like this can and should be used, and it'd be a real shame for this one to crumble. I'll add a link to the fundraiser in the video description.” The Wytchfynder Army, as Shadwell's fans call themselves, have so far contributed £80m to the Save Godleigh Manor campaign. The fundraising page is filled with messages of encouragement and support, attached to donations ranging from £5 to £1500. Some donors have even explained that they raised the money through sponsored swims, bake sales, and car washes. “It's enough to get started, to make a really good start,” Godleigh explained, “I can't thank him – all of them – enough. They really came together to help me – a complete stranger – and it means so much, it really does.” So what's next for Godleigh Manor? First, says Godleigh, the surviving rooms will need to be stablised. Then the house's ground floor will be restored to its former glory, and Godleigh hopes to work with local historians to ensure that it is both a functional and educational space. “I won't charge people any more to use it than I need to cover the cost of maintaining it,” Godleigh said. “How can I? It's being restored by this huge community; it belongs to the community, and to Little Dyvyn. It's going to be a great space for everyone to enjoy.” Work is now set to begin on the Godleigh Manor restoration project as early as April this year, depending on local planning committee approval of plans first drawn up in 1998. MARY HODGES. To find out more, or to contribute to the renovation costs, visit www.savegodleighmanor.org.uk.

[Image Description: A sepia photograph of a large, grand house. Inset, a colour photograph of a hole in a wall, through which weeds can be seen growing. End ID.] [Caption] NEGLECTED: Godleigh Manor, pictured above in 1980, was once the heart of a thriving community. Inset, weeds grow in what used to be a service corridor to the rear of the main building. (Photo: Annie Spratt on Unsplash. Inset: E. Diop on Unsplash.)

THE NEWS IN NUMBERS 800 years of a house on the site 300 years in its current form 23 generations in the same family 29 bedrooms 40 acres of land £50m lowest estimated renovation costs £300m highest estimated renovation costs 198k subscribers to Wytchfynder 291 Wytchfynder videos 10 years Sgt Shadwell served in the Army £80m raised by the Wytchfynder Army £91m renovation funds raised so far 15 years estimated to complete renovation

[Image Description: a rectangular ad with a picture of Dr. Raven Sable. His name is signed beneath his photograph. Text reads: Don't settle for a balanced diet when you can have a SABLE DIET. End ID.]

Corner Cuppa with Esther James

[ID: Photo of a young woman's face. She has black hair cut into a bob, and slightly gothic makeup. End ID.]

Why do we know you? I'm the captain of the Red Roses, which is the England Women's Rugby Team. What are you passionate about? Rugby! Also, my girlfriend Jane (Adams, also on the squad), and my charitable causes, of course. I support the NSPCC and the Albert Kennedy Trust, in particular - both fantastic charities helping young people who've been let down, in many cases, by the people they should most be able to rely on. I'm really glad to be involved with them. What's your favourite holiday of the year? Pride! I love getting dressed up and going to the parades – most of the time Jane and I get to march, these days, which is great. Last year we even got to ride on a float at one of them, which was really surreal – we got to cover ourselves in rainbow feather boas and just have a laugh waving at people. What a great time! What's been your proudest moment? So far, it's a tie between coming out as bi in a press conference – which was really scary at the time but which led to such good things and such good conversations – and being made captain of the Red Roses. It's an honour just to be selected for the national side, but to be chosen to lead from such a talented group of women is even better. I was walking on air for a week! If you could do anything in the world once, what would it be? Only once? I'd hate to do something and enjoy it and never get to do it again. But, OK, hypotherically... Something completely different and mad, like getting up on a stage and performing a song like I really mean it, or bungee-jumping. What scares you? Bungee-jumping! Which is exactly why I'd like to do it. I think it's good to get out of your own head and your own comfort zone and just do something that scares you, if you can. What's your ideal day? Taking a day off of training and just lying on the sofa watching films with Jane for the whole day. We love what we do, but we don't get a lot of downtime to just relax and snuggle. But then, when we do get a day off, it's usually at the same time, so that's lovely; we're always together and it hasn't started getting on our nerves yet! If you could go anywhere in the world right now, with no complications or restrictions, where would you go? I've always wanted to go to the Eiffel Tower, but somehow whenever I end up in France I don't find the time. Jane's never been to Disneyland, so I think we'd have to combine the two if we got a no-holds-barred trip somewhere. And, obviously, I wouldn't exactly hate getting to meet Mickey again! What's the best advice you've ever been given? My gran was as tough as old boots, and proud of it. She once sat me down, when I was quite young, and she said, “Essie,” which is what she called me, “Essie, you'll do all right in life if you remember this simple rule. Make sure you keep your nose clean, but don't be afraid to get your boots dirty.” I'm not sure she meant me to take it quite so literally! But I think what she meant was, don't get into trouble unnecessarily, but don't be so scared of getting it wrong that you can't do anything right. That's stuck with me, I've held onto it all these years, and I think it's a good motto to live by. What's one thing you wish someone had told you when you were younger? I wish they'd told me it was OK that I fancied girls, that things were getting better. I think we've still got a long way to go, as a community, but I never could have dreamed that a bisexual woman could captain England when I was a little girl. Let alone that it would be me! Finally, what's one thing you'd like to tell younger people now? Be true to yourself, be true to your friends, and be kind. I think the world will turn out fine if we all just try to be kind to one another, above all. Next week's cuppa: Ligur Mortice, head of the Ligur fashion house.

[End of page.]

#masked omens #very much fake news #mo week one #fanart

[meli-productions]

Pine and Needles

My contribution for Ineffable Husbands AU Week 2020 by @ineffablehusbandsweek

I am so excited to share it. Also on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26563960

If it were a choice between taking a double-decker into the midst of London or accompanying his best friend into the tattoo parlor, Crowley would’ve put up with the annoying Americans. But his annoying American begged and pleaded until he gave up and promised to go with her to get her newest tattoo.

“It won’t even take long,” Anathema said, pulling Crowley through the crowds. “You’re not far from home and I brought headphones so you won’t even hear anything.”

Crowley gave a little huff, “Fine. Let’s get this over with. The sooner you get ink into your body, the sooner I can get the hell out.”

Anathema chuckled, “Considering the bad-boy aura you try to present, it’s funny that you get so freaked out about a little thing like a tattoo needle.”

“Oi, those things’re freaky,” said Crowley. “They buzz like they’re an insect trying to get into your skin.”

That just made Anathema’s laughter louder as they entered the little shop. 

At the counter stood a man that looked like he should be working  anywhere other than a tattoo parlor. He fixed the crooked pair of glasses higher on his nose as the pair approached the desk and shot them a shaky smile. 

“Erm, afternoon,” the man - the nametag declared him to be a Newt - said. “Welcome to Guardian’s Gate - are you both set up for an appointment?”

Anathema leaned against the counter, “Nope, just me handsome. Anathema Device. I’ve got the 1:45 with …” 

“Aziraphale,” said Newt, blushing. “Gotcha. He should be out in a minute to get you. You can have a seat and I’ll - I’ll let him know you’re hot - I mean, here. I - oh, okay, I’ll just go get him.”

Crowley laughed into his hand as the man slipped away, red-faced and fussing with his already disheveled hair, “‘Nathema, look what you did to the poor lizard.”

She shrugged and led him to the waiting area, “And what about it? He’s cute.”

“Doesn’t look like he belongs in a tattoo shop, that’s for sure,” he said, pushing his sunglasses to the apex of his nose. “But if he’s your type, I guess I won’t judge too hard.”

Anathema glared at him, “First of all, if you’d read the reviews of this place you’d have seen that no one that works here looks like they’d work at a tattoo parlor. Second - you’re always judging, you snake. But something tells me that I’m gonna have the last laugh today.”

“Oh? Did the tarot tell you something?”

She gave a non-committed hum and turned towards where Newt had just exited, tracking him like a hawk and handed her purse over to Crowley, “Here. The headphones are in there and I put a CD player with some Queen in there.”

Crowley grumbled something about being old-fashioned as he dug around the large bag for the device. He heard a voice clearing above his head and a soft voice that called out Anathema’s name, but summoned him as well.

Standing before them, like an angel descended, was a plump man with hands folded against his stomach. He was dressed in khaki pants and a white button up that was rolled up to his elbows which revealed two sleeves of tattoos that highlighted the soft, yet strong muscles there. Crowley’s mouth was agape as he followed the crisp white shirt up towards the bowtie and then to the halo of messy curls on the man’s head.

“Hello, dear, I’m Aziraphale. And you must be Anathema,” he said, reaching out a hand to shake the woman’s. “It’s a pleasure.”

Anathema, smug as a cat with cream, turned to Crowley before shaking Aziraphale’s hand, “Pleasure’s mine. This is my friend, Anthony Crowley, he’s just here to keep me company today.” 

Aziraphale turned his smile at the stunned man, hand outstretched and taking the limp extension that Crowley provided, “Hello, Anthony. You must be an exceptional friend to be here for her. Oh, what a lovely snake.”

He reached towards the little black sigil of a snake that curled near Crowley’s ear and gave it a little stroke that sent shivers down his body.

“Ngk, thanks.”

Smile never faltering, Aziraphale turned back to his client and waved her towards his room, talking specifics about her design as Crowley watched him go, eyes flickering from halo to back, to plush rear. 

Oh, fuck.

Crowley had been trying to focus on the Best of Queen CD that was playing in his ears and keeping him distracted from the low buzz of the tattoo gun nearby, but all he could think about was the absolute vision he’d seen earlier.

His skin still burned where the slightly calloused thumb had swept over his teenage error. Twelve years later, it finally was worth fainting and almost puking all over the tattoo artist’s shoes. He’d already googled Aziraphale’s name and meaning - of course it was an angel - and all of his artwork, taking a moment to devour every crinkle of his eyes, the tight pull of shirt around his biceps, and the pretty, shining eyes on the one picture of his on the web.

A hard shove against his shoulder broke the spell that the screen had cast. He glanced up to see Anathema, smirk still in full-effect as she tilted her head towards the counter where Newt and Aziraphale were speaking.

“Come on, el amor de tu vida awaits.”

Crowley scoffed, but jumped to his feet, shoving the headphones and player into Anathema’s purse before giving it over. 

“Amor de mi vida mi culo ardiente,” said Crowley. “Whatever your cards said, it’s not true.”

Anathema laughed, “They haven’t been wrong before.”

The two joined the employees at the counter and Crowley stumbled forward when the bright smile turned towards him.

“Newt will help you check out,” he said, “And I do hope you come to see us again. Perhaps you could come for a tattoo next, Anthony.”

Crowley’s heart stuttered, though not exactly because of the man, “Erm, yeah, right. I’ll - I’ll see that I do…I’ll consider it.”

The smile faltered for a minute and Anathema muttered something under her breath before breaking the awkward silence, “What he means is that he hasn’t considered getting another one. Besides, Aziraphale, he should at least get a look at your work first, right?”

Aziraphale’s smile returned full-force, “Oh. Heavens, I didn’t mean to put any pressure on your decision. But I do hope you consider us for the job. It’d be wonderful to create a matching work to that snake.”

“Ahem,” said Crowley. “Of course. I’m sure you’d be able to come up with something amazing.”

The wriggle of delight was enough for Crowley to come up with more compliments to see it again, but Anathema bumped him again, pulling him away from his thoughts.

“Well, it was a pleasure meeting you both. Hope to see you again - soon,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes at Newt who ducked his head in embarrassment.

With pleasantries exchanged, Anathema maneuvered Crowley out of the door and, when they were away from the store she tilted her head back and laughed, loud enough to make her American - and Latina - heritage proud.

“Ay, nene, you should’ve seen your face,” she said. “You’re gonna be thinking about him all week.”

A childish pout that was too out of place on his middle-aged face curled on his lips, “No, I’m not. Honestly, ‘Nathema, you should’ve been more worried about your little lizard boy.”

“I was,” she said with a content smile. “I wrote my number on the receipt.”

Despite the denial he gave Anathema, Crowley did find himself thinking about the artist for the next following days. He lived not too far from the shop, and worked even closer, but tried not to think too much about the pretty, sparkling, kaleidoscope eyes or the smile that had been seared into his heart. 

But he’d still find himself falling into a rabbithole of images on social media, trying to find any pictures of Aziraphale among the pictures of his art. The only one he’d found, other than his headshot on the website, made his heart sink at the sight of the beautiful, elegant woman on one arm and the muscular, supermodel man on the other.

Regardless of which one was his date, he was obviously taken by one of the two - if not both.

Rejected, Crowley went back to sweeping the dirt out of the kitchen and nursed his hurting heart. 

Anathema’s call four days afterwards should’ve been a sign, but he didn’t think too much of it.

“What is it now, Anathema? Did the tattoo get infected? Or did you decide that you just need more ink in your skin?”

The woman hissed from the other end of the line, “Oooh, who spilled their soup all over you, querido? And no, it’s all fine. I just need a favor from you.”

Crowley scoffed, “At this point, you’re almost indebted to me.”

“We’ll put it on the tab and I’ll do a free reading for you.”

He rolled his eyes, “What do you need?”

“So, I kinda left my mother’s charm bracelet at the tattoo parlor the other day and I can’t swing by to get it anytime soon. Do you mind picking it up for me?”

Warning bells went off in his head as he pulled the phone away from his ear to frown at it. Anathema never took off that bracelet and she definitely wouldn’t have forgotten it considering the history it held. 

“Why don’t you get lizard boy to bring it to you on your next date?”

She huffed, “Because he hasn’t got a clue and asked me out yet. You wouldn't also be able to get him to realize that, too?”

“That’s two favors, Anathema,” he said. “But I’ll go. When are you coming back into town?”

“Next weekend. Just hold onto it for me until then. Oh! Take some of your petit fours, Aziraphale might’ve mentioned something about liking sweet things,” said Anathema. 

“Bye Anathema.”

“Bye dulzura.”

Despite shutting her down, Crowley packed up a little container of petit fours and fixed his hair before easing down the street. Jitters brought a little bounce up his leg that got worse as he spotted the sign of the shop. 

“You’re a big boy, Anthony,” he mumbled to himself. “Just go in there, harass the lizard, pick up the bracelet and get the hell out of there without making a fool of yourself. Yeah,” his shoulders squared, “you can do this.”

The little bell at the door brought Newt’s head up and he smiled, a large spread that made him look a little more lizard like, “Oh, hey - Anthony, right?”

Crowley nodded, “Tha’s right. My friend, Anathema - you remember, tall, real pretty, was hitting on you?” He stopped for a second to process the red face, “Yeah, well she forgot her bracelet here and sent me to pick it up.”

“R-right,” said Newt, rubbing the back of his neck. “Um, I think Aziraphale’s been holding it in his room. You can go right in, he’s not seeing anyone for another hour.”

Heart speeding up, Crowley turned to the open door along the wall. He swallowed against the knot at his throat, “Ah, okay. Oh, lizard - ”

“It’s Newt.”

“ - do us both a favor and call Anathema to ask her on a date. Otherwise I’ll never hear the end of it, yeah?”

Newt’s spluttering punctuated his steps towards Aziraphale’s door and he came to a dead stop when he saw the man lit up from behind by the really great lighting in the room. And before the little sound that crawled up his throat escaped he knocked on the door.

Aziraphale turned around, tiny reading glasses askew on his nose and he lit up when he noticed who was at the door, “Anthony, dearest, I’m so sorry I didn’t hear you. Come in, please. Anathema told me to expect you.”

Crowley came in on wobbly legs and sat in the chair that Aziraphale gestured him towards. It was only after he sat down that he noticed it was the tattooing chair and his face paled. 

“It’s nice to see you dear,” said Aziraphale, spinning around in his chair to fully face him. He slid the glasses off, “I noticed the bracelet almost right away but I felt it was wrong to call her if she’d given the number to dear Newton, not me.”

“Pfft, that boy doesn’t even know what to do with that number,” Crowley said. “I, erm, Anathema mentioned something about you liking sweets so I brought you some - some petit fours from the restaurant.”

If possible, Aziraphale brightened more as he took the container from Crowley, “Thank you, dear. I have been looking forward to this since Anathema said you ran a restaurant. Ah, I should get you her bracelet.”

He handed the bracelet over with one hand as his fingers popped the lid off and he plucked a pastry out.

“I really hope you like it, it’s one of my specialties,” Crowley said and, as he slipped the bracelet into his pocket, almost choking as he heard the delighted moan from the only other person in the room. Behind his glasses, his eyes widened and took in the closed eyes and stretched neck of the artist before him as he savored the pastry. Mouth suddenly dry, Crowley couldn’t tear his eyes away from Aziraphale as the man slowly came to and wiped the flakes off his mouth.

“Oh, Anthony,” he said in a tone that brought heat throughout Crowley’s body. “These are absolutely scrumptious. I should go to your restaurant.”

He’s trying to kill me. Maybe this is hell and I’m just being punished. Crowley thought as he tried to form words, “I’d love that, angel. You can even bring a friend - or a girlfriend - or a boyfriend.”

Aziraphale shot him a look, hazel eyes twinking, “None of that for me, dear. Just a lonely old man, but maybe you would keep me company. I’d love for you to be able to talk to me about your favorite dishes.”

A little part of Crowley’s brain did a little fist pump, “Swing by anytime, I’ll make time - and the special - just for you.”

“Oh,” said Aziraphale, giving a happy wiggle. “And we can talk about a new design for a tattoo while we’re at it - if you’re still interested, that is.”

Crowley’s heart plummeted, “R-right. Well, I should get back to the restaurant. Swing by when you have the chance and we’ll - we’ll chat. Tell Newt to give Anathema a call.”

“Of course, dear. I’ll see you soon.”

For the next few weeks, Crowley would stop by with something sweet for Aziraphale, threaten Newt to call Anathema and put him out of his misery, and then skedaddle before the artist could pin him down to talk about his hypothetical next tattoo.

That is, until he walked out of the kitchen and saw an angel sitting in a booth, smiling towards the kitchen doors as if expecting him.

“Ngk, angel. I wasn’t expecting you,” he said, brushing his hair back and trying to make it presentable. “Did you - did you enjoy your meal?”

“Oh, yes,” Aziraphale answered. “Just waiting for dessert and another glass of wine. Everything was delectable, darling. Please, sit, join me.”

“I don’t usually make a habit of sitting with the diners,” Crowley said, a smile teasing his lips. “But how can I refuse such great company? Wait here. I’ll get us a wine even better than whatever it was you were having.”

When he returned with the fanciest bottle of wine in the restaurant - one that he’d refused to even mention on the carte - he found Aziraphale humming around a bite of raspberry cheesecake and had to take a breath to steady himself before taking a seat.

“Good?”

Aziraphale’s eyelashes fluttered as he came back to, “Heavenly.”

Crowley muttered something along the lines of ‘not as heavenly as you’ before popping open the wine and pouring them both a generous amount, “Drink up. I’ve been waiting for the right type of connoisseur to open this one up.”

He noticed the blush that dipped down Aziraphale’s face and towards the buttoned up collar and wanted nothing more than to follow it further, instead he chose to lift his gaze back up to the sparkling eyes and toast.

“To angelic friends visiting out of nowhere.”

“To gorgeous serpents and their delicious food,” replied Aziraphale. After a sip, he gave a thoughtful hum before pulling a sketchbook up from beside him. “Come. I have a few sketches to show you. Ideas I’ve thought of for your next work.”

Oh. Crowley’s heart plummeted. That’s right. He only puts up with you because you’re a potential client.

Aziraphale showed him sketches of snakes wrapped around flowers, one with ebony wings, and then a solitary pair of wings, little sketches of his favorite flowers - gloxinias - and a few more of constellations. A little furrow formed between his eyebrows as he realized - 

“You have at least one for each of my favorite things,” he said, then raised his gaze to meet the now flustered artist. “You - you’ve been paying attention.”

“Honestly, my dear, did you think I wouldn’t?” asked Aziraphale, fingers twirling the ring on his pinky. “Everything about you is so fascinating - I just wanted to be able to spend some time with you and - oh, I’m an embarrassing old man. All you wanted was to get a tattoo and I went ahead and - ” 

“I don’t want a tattoo,” Crowley interrupted, his turn to blush when Aziraphale’s eyes turned to him. “I’m afraid of needles. This one,” he pointed to the snake, “was my first and last. Never again. I just - I didn’t want you to send me away.”

A soft hand landed over his and he followed it to Aziraphale’s soft smile, “Never, dear. I love spending time with you - wouldn’t mind spending more.”

Crowley returned the smile, “You just want me for my cooking.”

An affirmative hum escaped from Aziraphale, but the thumb rubbing over his hand said otherwise, “Perhaps. But maybe next time you cook for me it can be…a date?”

If possible, Crowley’s smile widened, “How’s your weekend looking?”

“Nothing I can’t reschedule.”

“Then it’s a date.”

“It’s a date.”

#ineffable husbands au week #ineffablehusbandsauweek #ineffable husbands #good omens #gomens #aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale x crowley #fanfiction #good omens fanfiction #tattoo parlor AU #tattoo artist aziraphale #chef crowley #anathema device #newton pulsifer #anathema & crowley friendship #newt & aziraphale friendship #matchmaker anathema #occultist anathema #anathema speaks spanish #crowley speaks spanish #human au #my fanfiction #my writing

[armedinkblot]

An Unnecessarily In-Depth Look into Moira O’Deorain

Under the cut is a long-winded examination into Moira and how I presume she became the cunning, sly mad scientist we know today. I wrote it out during quarantine because why not. This has been peer-reviewed and modified via an Overwatch/art Discord server. Please refer to the bottom of the post for my evidence/citations.

Let’s start with her twisted state of mind (the reason most of us love her, let’s be real). I believe Angela’s best interest in the safety of living creatures was a main contributing factor. It makes sense to me to think Angela reported her research to the higher ups out of fear of Moira "partaking in unethical procedures on living creatures", especially considering Moira’s published paper that was all on modifying genetics. Angela got painted as the good guy angel for exposing that, when Moira was only using time-tested experiments on rabbits, not like she was testing on humans. Yes, Angela was probably actually scared that Moira was being cruel and enjoying it too much (which she might have been, we don’t know) and was worried it might escalate. I don’t think Angela had any idea it would blow up that badly and ruin Moira’s entire career.

Whether or not Moira has always had a mad scientist inside of her is debatable, seeing as she presumably did graduate from a university at some point to be a renowned geneticist. Universities typically do not like or condone insane experiments and such antics, though in order to publish such a terrifying and controversial paper takes some kind of mental instability. Taking that into account, this means that either Moira is a better actor than we thought and had everyone fooled, or Angela and Overwatch just broke her completely. We won’t know unless Blizzard gives us more backstory. (Please give us some kind of lore, I am begging.)

Now, next we analyze the timeline we have (at the moment, Blizzard likes retconning). With Retribution, the comics, her release trailer shown at Blizzcon, and her origin story, I believe this paints a pretty tidy picture.

Here is my take on Moira’s descent into the manipulative witch she became.

Moira and Angela worked together somewhere, probably Overwatch based on Moira’s lab coat skin.

Moira publishes a paper about genetic and neurological reconditioning, dealing with cells. Her results are irreplicable and sketchy, damaging her reputation. Overwatch kept her working on smaller projects.

Moira either didn’t like or didn’t trust the biotech and opted for experimentation on rabbits, seen as unethical and cruel by the scientific community.

Angela reported her to the higher ups, most likely out of fear of things escalating because of her paper. Overwatch fires her.

At this last hit to her reputation, Moira’s lab is completely defunded and shut down, and she loses her right to practice science. At some point in this period, Angela stole some notes from Moira, which are found in Switzerland.

She continues to live in the abandoned lab and experiments on herself out of the public eye, causing the scarring on her right arm. This is likely due to not being able to afford new lab rabbits. Meanwhile, around this time, Blackwatch is created.

Moira joins Blackwatch as their medic without Overwatch’s high officials’ knowledge and begins testing on Gabe. Angela does not interact/interacts very little with Moira at this time that we know of.

Moira joins Talon behind the scenes, probably because of the unlimited funding and shared gray morals (sacrificing lives for humanity’s progression, for example).

Amelie is kidnapped by Talon. Part way through her neural reconditioning Overwatch saves her, though she kills Gerard and goes back. Let me point out that Moira is, as far as we know, the only geneticist capable of making such heavy modifications to someone’s DNA/body.

Gabe acts insanely out of character by killing Antonio, to which Moira appears very satisfied with a smug smirk and neat posture.

Overwatch falls apart because of it, likely part of Talon’s plan that Moira played a large part in.

Gabe joins Talon with Moira and Widowmaker, while Moira joins the higher ranking scientific officials in Oasis as Minister of Genetics.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now for the tidbits of information that backs up my theory and provides evidence. To start, a lot of the information I’ve gathered comes from the official Gamepedia, the Blizzcon 2017 transcript, and her page on the website. Here are the rest, including hyperlinks. Hyperlinks are in italics.

Her origin story:

She worked for Overwatch, but someone eventually "silenced" her. She states they were holding back her research due to ethics.

She leaves her lab in her lab coat, which she is seen in when Blackwatch comes to get her, meaning she’s more than likely still at the abandoned lab.

She experiments on Gabe, which the artist of the video admits he’s terrified of.

Retribution event:

Her ease with the execution, and the fact she smirks and just seems so... satisfied with his performance shows to me that she was expecting this behavior. (Just according to keikaku...)

She seems mostly unphased for the rest of the escape sequence.

Voice lines:

She and Amelie have an interaction where she asks, “How are you feeling, Lacroix?” Amelie very sharply responds, "I don’t feel. That’s the point, isn’t it?". Amelie phrasing the last part as a question proves Moira knows what happened to her, Moira being the one most likely to have done the work.

Angela and Moira’s first interaction ("Describing your work as unethical would be a kindness." "But the true question is whether or not you can deny my discoveries? no, I didn’t think so.") hints that they worked together sometime, to the point Angela knew how Moira’s experiments worked.

Moira also mocks Angela when she kills her, saying "Our guardian angel~" in a dry, sarcastic tone, hinting that Angela harmed her in the past and Moira found it satisfying to get back.

Comics:

In Legacy, Ana and Jack are seen pursuing Talon agents in Overwatch uniforms. Ana gets shot by Widowmaker, who was already converted. This means Amelie was taken while Overwatch was still together, therefore before the Venice Incident. Seeing as Moira was the one operating on Amelie based on common sense, she had been working for Talon behind Blackwatch’s back.

In Retribution, an explosion goes off that kills hundreds and severely injures Gerard. Jack seems uneasy with Gabe’s response to the incident, asking him to rethink if hunting Antonio down will help in the long run. At the end of the comic Gabe is portrayed with shadows like Reaper’s owl skull mask, hinting that Moira’s experiments had messed with his head a tad.

Other sources:

Angela and Moira both have each others' work in their labs in the Switzerland and Oasis maps, respectively, as well as confirmation from Michael Chu that they have a deep background history with each other. (See Participant #3 in this hyperlink)

Moira named her test rabbit from her origin story "Better Angela" out of spite; Angela had to have done SOMETHING to deserve that.

Moira replicated the Valkyrie suit to a degree, meaning either they worked together or Moira stole it and adapted it for her biotech needs. (Also see Participant #3 in this hyperlink.)

Angela and Moira both have sprays that clearly show they were once friends (or at least colleagues), namely the ones in front of the Overwatch logo and “Shadow” and “Light”.

Moira wears a headpiece like devil horns, most definitely to spite Angela’s halo.

I am more than happy to hear any feedback or additions to this whole thing, and if you’ve made it all the way through I appreciate it greatly. I know it’s long-winded and I could’ve made it much shorter, but I wanted to cover all the bases I could.

Thank you.

#translator's note: keikaku means plan #Moira #moira overwatch #moira o'deorain #o'deorain #Overwatch #overwatch moira #analysis #character analysis #overwatch lore #writing #moicy #moira x mercy #mercy overwatch #angela ziegler #overwatch mercy

[theplumsoldier]

PREMIERE NIGHT

Request: Anonymous asked: So if you have time and motivation and like my prompt could you write a fic where y/n joins the Avengers cast to play young Black Widow maybe? and she’s in her early 20s but she’s got this massive crush on Chris Evans but is too proud to make the first move because she’s scared of rejection but he likes her too, and then there’s a party with all MCU members - maybe the Oscars or A4 premiere afterparty, where they get drunk and make out in front of everybody and then maybe smut ensues? Please xx

A/N: i cant see endgame until tuesday i hate myself. the people tagged are from various captain america or chris evans taglists of mine, hope none that did not want to be tagged were and if so, feel free to dm me so i can remove you from the list (:

Pairing: chris evans x reader

Word count: 2478

Warnings: smut, explicit scenes, vulgar language.

His admiration for you was enormous and quite difficult to describe. Before the fourth and final Avengers movie, you had only ever done small theatrical shows and minor close to dispensable roles, so when you were cast to play a young version of Black Widow it was utterly impressive you came and stole the show with your undeniable skills, even if your overall screen time was just about 10 minutes.

However, even with no more than little screen time, you had to undergo an insane training program and take ballet classes—even if that had been your own decision. Your dedication to make your time worth was evident and you took all the advice you could, always listening to directors and coworkers to make the best of your performance. This was one of those “once in a lifetime opportunities” people always spoke about and considering you had never attended any acting schools for it was a miracle you had even landed the role, and at the ripe age of 23.

Set was amazing in spite of the long hours as the dynamic was beyond magical. There was no question whether these guys were professionals, which should have put you off and feel a tad out of place, only they never failed to make you feel part of the MCU family—one man in particular.

It was nonsensical to think just two years ago you had been at the verge of giving up on acting and went to carry on the family business. The flower boutique had always been like a second home but in your final years of school, you had sworn if you were to spend another minute in that godforsaken place you would blow it up and your head with it.

Now instead with no hands nor brains in your ablaze childhood home, you stood with a drink in your hand and a huge grin on your face, greeting Scarlett Johansson for the first time since your last on-set encounter.

“So, what will our next movie be?” asked she and you grinned at her overt hint.

"Well, Feige has yet to turn down a Black Widow solo, soo. . .” responded you, dragging out the ‘so’ for obvious reasons. Nudging her lightly, you earned a laugh and she lifted her hands as if to say “one never might know,” but her sparkly eyes told you otherwise. One might know. “You have no idea how nervous I was when my faced showed up on that screen.”

“Oh, you had no reason to be,” dismissed Scarlett with a wave of the hand. “This is about the best family you could have landed yourself in.”

“I know that now! But, you know, the fans are so dedicated and I figured that would mean either they would love my portrayal, or like—absolutely fucking hate it, you know?” chuckled you nervously and sipped from your drink, eyes scanning across the room.

Scarlett laughed, “well, all I have to say is that I’m glad about the casting director’s choice, getting a new face. I cannot tell you who you were up against, but—trust me when I say, you trumped her in every way.”

Your eyes lit up with both joy and curiousness. “Oh, now you have to tell me!”

Hours had passed and you had never been showered with more compliments and good wishes in your entire life, the fact that they all came from successful personas made you think this was not the last the world had seen of you.

On several occasions had you had your shot at doing something about the immense crush you had on the infamous man of your dreams, however, both worry, perturbation and pride took away what courage the alcohol had built up the entirety of the evening. All you had ever managed to come up with, was your gratitude which was more modest than self-assured as your usual kind of flirting would sound.

Your weak knees and flushed skin was nothing that made you wonder; you knew very well why you were vulnerable to such, and you could only think that the man exposing you to the affection, knew it as well. At least, when your cheeks would burn red at his comments or touch, he seemed pleased with himself.

It was an unusual feel and one you did not like much, contrary to the butterflies fighting in your stomach telling you otherwise. His mere voice took away what confidence was only habitual to your customary tone and the scrunch of his nose when he would laugh never failed to take away your breath. The stunning suit he was clad in assured that even if you managed to hide your uncertain stance, you would show in other ways and some that made you shift just a bit too often. How you should have worn a pantsuit rather than a dress.

Some had kids and some had families, others had varying excuses but the truth was you had nothing awaiting you at home. You did not even have a home to return to for you were going straight back to your hotel after this. However, you did not mind, the thought of sharing a life with someone was nice, surely, only the truth was you did not long to leave. The night had been filled with such happiness, which to you was not wonted; how could you want to leave that behind? If so, it was for the reason to take care of your untamed amorous state.

Troubled with your own thoughts, you had yet to recognize it had been Chris to move beside you until he spoke up.

“No one to go home to?”

You could recognize the kindness in his eyes anywhere. With a soft chuckle, your finger traced the stem of the wine glass and blinked at him. “That should only be if room service's waiting for me. If not, then sadly, no.”

His eyes glistened in the dim lightening from the bar, the bright ones behind his head contributing to the lit glory hovering above him. With a smile, Chris sat down, the halo vanishing as he did. “You’re still checked in on the hotel?”

Nodding in affirmation, you raised the glass to meet your lips, your eyes never leaving his blue ones. It was funny how they seemed prettier than ever in this uncertain state. Against common sense and acumen, your judgment decided upon speaking freely, picking what topic you never would have thought yourself to feel confident enough to. Whether it was because you had had enough of being lonely or it simply was the alcohol taking a toll on you, allowing more candidness than needed, you did not know. However, you felt a sudden urge and the words escaped.

“You know I like you, right?”

Chris’ face remained its joyous, laid back look, only the corner of his mouth puckering up. He could not say he was surprised. At least not with your admitted feelings, however, your frankness was something else. Undeniably, he was aware and saying those particular feelings were not reciprocated, would be about the fattest lie of the evening.

“You only say that because you’re drunk.”

“Yes,” drawled you and confessed. “It’s still true though. I shouldn’t have drunk this much.”

“You have been nervous tonight—why?” wondered Chris, thinking of the observation of the night. Whenever spoken, talked or even as little as share momentary eye contact from opposites sides of the room, you had taken another sip from your glass.

With a sudden puff of discomfort, you felt all the more self-conscious. Now, this was awkward.

“I haven’t. Or I have—but, uh. . .” You had no idea how to respond, and from his insoluble expression and soft, awaiting eyes you were forced to find the right words. “I’m not usually like this. Drunk—I, it’s really your fault—”

“That you’re drunk?”

“No—that’s my poor sagacity. You make me nervous,” divulged you, not finding the courage in you to look up for the reaction you so longed for. Instead, your head fell back, sucking in a deep breath and you found him through the corner of your eye. “I guess I wanted to build up the courage to. . . I don’t know, I was afraid this was the last time I would see you.”

“Nonsense. You’re in the Marvel-family now—”

“I know, I know and it’s great, I just—I really like you.”

Silence imbued, the tension you felt pent up completely locking out any signs of the ongoing party behind you. Good thing you were sat on a stool otherwise you might just have fallen to the ground as you knees were about as weak as your sense of vaunt. This man shot you all the way back to your high school years and for making you all hot and bothered, you tried to convince you did not like him. But truly, what was there not to like. With a heart of gold and always decent presentation, sense of humor and bearing soul, he was the one.

“So if I kissed you right now, you would not mind?”

One of your eyebrows bounced in surprise and Chris stifled his chuckle, how glorious you looked tonight. “Right here?”

Giving you no time to contemplate, he leaned in and in a split-second, your lips were connected in a sweet kiss. Being what you had only ever dreamed of, you melted under his enchantment. He tasted sweet and fresh, his cologne lingering to your nostrils and you could only worry of what strong liquor he might sense. But it did not make him stop and careless to what eyes might lurk from behind, he pulled you closer by the neck and parted his lips, deepening the kiss. At his touch, his large hand forcing you closer to him, you hummed into his mouth, reaching up to rest your hand by his beard as you allowed his tongue to dance with your own. Sweet with a pinch of sourness, you lost track of time and only departed when you had completely abated the intensity of your surroundings.

Retreating, you distanced yourself with only a minuscule amount of space left between you, catching your breath.

“Perhaps this is not the best place to do this,” admitted you, a grin playing on your lip and a glimpse flashed in your eye.

“So we leave then,” proposed he and stood up, almost to fast and your eyes grew big for a moment, knowing what he implied. Was this real?

Holding out his hand, you did not hesitate for more than what seconds the stun took and you were then on your way. Pace steady and moderate, something you could keep up with in your heels and you held your head down as you exited and cameras flashed. Out of instinct, you went to retrieve your hand, thinking Chris, too, was not keen on being seen like this. But he did not let go. His grip even tightened and casting a fleeting look across his shoulder, he offered you a sincere smile.

Up in your hotel room, little time was left to settle or even wriggle out of your dress, for the second the door was closed, your lips were once again touching. Chuckling to yourself, you were pleased to know you had not been the only one longing for this moment.

Reaching behind to fondle with the zipper, you managed to pull it down and with the help of Chris, you were freed from its clutching grip on you. Pooling down by your feet, Chris' hands slid up the backside of your legs. On his knees, he peppered kisses, trailing up, closer and closer to your sex, ensuring you would drip the second he removed your panties.

With a final flicker of his eyes, he found you watching him closely with soft and lustful eyes, bottom lip tugged between your teeth and how the pleasure pulled at your features only made him harder in his pants. Taking the encouraging hum you emitted as consent, he rid you of the remaining garment. Licking his lips, he pushed you back to sit on the bed and adored the sight of you. So wet and all for him.

Moving his hands back down your legs, Chris lifted them over his shoulders and dug right in between your legs. His tongue blending with you arousal was enough to elicit a dulcet sound from you, moan after moan escaping as he took care of you.

His facial hair nuzzling where you were most sensitive as he licked long strokes, draining you from what you could offer, you knew he would have you shaken in a matter of seconds. Aching for more friction, his hand came to the rescue, thump grazing past your clit, earning an upward thrust from your hips. His other hand came around you and retiring for just a moment you bucked up to find what sensation had become vague, but when he inserted two fingers in you, the wait was worth it.

At a modest pace he began, just enough pleasure for you to adjust to his two fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, and when first the velocity increased, Chris’ tempo was adequate to make you cum hard right then and there.

The room resonated with your moans and you had to cover your mouth in order to quiet yourself, slightly embarrassed he had you wrapped around his finger like that. But soon his hand removed your own, wanting to hear you more than anything, desperate to hear what he did to you. It had been all too long since he felt this powerful and you gave him everything you wanted by allowing him to eat you like to the likeness of a starving animal. The vibrations, the shameless, guttural groans, the tremors—it was all in the mix of pushing you over the edge and your clawing in his hair as he continued drawing moans from you.

Upon your culmination, you finally released on his tongue, mellow same as wanton sounds escaping you in the process. Riding out your orgasm, you ground your sex against him, pulsating around his fingers and when you finally came down from your high, but Chris did not yield. Continuing, he merciless rammed into you, groaning loudly at the feel of you clenching around his fingers.

Cleaning you with his mouth, Chris relished in your juices and first then he parted from you, only to stand tall before you and his hands fiddled with his black tie. Dark eyes and glinting beard, loosened knot and then the sound of his belt clanging rang in your ears. He nodded down at you, a desiring shade peaking behind the blue in his eyes. “Turn around for me.”

TAGLIST: @patzammit @derekxsammy @woodworthti666  @littledeadrottinghood @littlemissirish @figure8ght @metalarmlover @athiestangel @ihclipse @denzmallows @crist1216 @tinageekandtraveler @mustbeaweasleyginger @feysandmaraudersdramatic @marshyymello @astrid345 @schilj79 @idiosadeoro @justtrynasurvivelife @pixiehex1985 @writing-parker @exuberantqueer @sodonutnutnut @lilymdonaldson

#chris evans #chris evans smut #captain america #captain america smut #chris evans imagine #captain america imagine #avengers #avengers smut #the avengers smut #the avengers #avengers endgame #endgame #theplumsoldier #marvel imagines

[evecolours]

Harry and Meghan’s escape from the poisonous palace

HEATHCLIFF O’MALLEY

The Sunday Times, January 12 2020, 12:01am

There was a small twist in the story of Harry and Meghan’s announcement last week that gives an indication of just how poisonous and frankly Machiavellian the modern House of Windsor has become. The young couple, newly returned and refreshed from their six weeks away, wanted to meet other members of their family and officials to discuss their plans to work towards becoming financially independent in a newly slimmed-down monarchy.

Harry was asked to put pen to paper with some ideas for discussion. He was reluctant, on the grounds that such documents normally leak.

He was persuaded and did as he was asked. The document, or its details, was shortly afterwards leaked to The Sun. And then, once he had gone ahead with an announcement anyway, palace officials claimed to have been blindsided by it.

The role of the press is perhaps symbolic (not that anyone is quibbling with The Sun — it was a good scoop), because it lies firmly at the heart of the rift between Harry and Meghan and the rest of his family. The young couple believe themselves to be taking a moral stand against the repeated hypocrisy of the tabloid press. Their argument is that if they, with all the privileges of position, power and fame, don’t do something, then who will?

Some of the rest of the family agree with their analysis, but they part ways entirely with the couple on the solution. They appear united in believing that, while suing one or more newspapers might — at best — result in a famous victory, the royal family as a whole will never win the war and that to try is madness. Better to just take it on the chin.

Harry’s father, in particular, appears keen to make sure the newspapers are on side, which is not surprising, really, given that he may one day soon ascend to the throne and has not been universally popular in the course of his life.

In other circumstances, this division of approach to the media might have been smoothed over, but it is a symptom of a deeper rift within the family itself.

It is quite hard to know who is right and who is wrong in this, and foolish perhaps to even try to decide. Some other members of the family say Harry and — particularly — his wife come across as extremely difficult. They feel they have done their absolute best to create space for the newcomer.

Harry and Meghan, on the other hand, find some other members of the family (with the exception of the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh) jealous and, at times, unfriendly.

The fallout began at the time of the wedding in 2018. Really damaging things were said and done. The atmosphere soured hard and early, but few meaningful attempts were made by anyone to heal the wounds.

It is pretty clear to me from conversations with both sides that this exit could suit everyone, at least in terms of narrow self-interest. But there is no doubt Harry and Meghan feel they have been driven out.

Much of this was swirling in the background of the documentary I made with the couple in Africa last October, which contributed to it being among the most psychologically complex few weeks of my working life.

Since the couple were accused of having complained about their own lot in the programme, while surrounded by poverty and neglect, I should probably explain that the blame — if that is the right word — lies mainly with me.

The documentary was my idea, and they were consistent from the start in wanting it to be primarily, and preferably entirely, about their work in Africa. I said that, worthy as that was, I thought it would be odd for the public to tune in for an hour and discover nothing of how the past year had been for them personally. It took a great deal of persuasion to get them over the line.

That said, they are far from naive and certainly knew what they were doing. When I look back, I feel they probably got on the plane to Africa without being entirely certain as to what they would or wouldn’t say to me.

Indeed, I think they only finally made up their minds after a long and private heart-to-heart I had with Harry, overlooking a river at the Halo Trust bush camp in Angola. I’d describe the results — his admission that he had not got over his mother’s death; Meghan’s revelation that she was really struggling with the limelight — as qualified honesty.

And I suspect the purpose was twofold: to prepare the ground for exactly the announcement we saw last week, and to act as a pressure release valve, in the hope that this, of itself, might alter the dynamic within the royal family.

Certainly, when I inquired if Meghan was “OK”, I took her reply — “Thanks for asking, as not many people have” — to refer to the family itself, rather than the public or the media.

When I got back, in many conversations, I repeated the same mantra; that I hoped the couple would take some time off and that, in the interim, everyone might take a deep breath and step back from the brink. And I was far from alone in these sentiments. Most people who had known and worked closely with William and Harry over the years felt the same and relayed similar messages.

My understanding is that William did try, but the impression I have, for the moment at least, is that things have gone too far to be retrieved.

So how is this new world going to work, without dragging the entire royal family into a series of controversies? Can you be a bit in and a bit out? As I understand it, they will definitely continue to support their charities — which doesn’t require royal status — and they would like to continue to assist the Queen, particularly in her work with the Commonwealth.

They appear philosophical about the prospect of losing their titles and becoming, in the end, entirely self-funded. They believe the question of their protection is a matter for the British state to decide.

They do not seem particularly clear yet on how they will support themselves. They have told colleagues they will wait to see what comes up, though they both went into the marriage with a fair amount of their own money; quite a lot of it, in Harry’s case (from his mother).

If I had to guess (and I’m genuinely only guessing), I’d say Meghan might take on a few big roles as a brand ambassador and do some work in television as an executive producer, perhaps on programmes that promote the causes and charities she has long been interested in (like the series on mental health with Oprah Winfrey on Apple TV that was announced some time ago).

I imagine Harry will probably concentrate on the voluntary work he has done over the years — the Invictus Games, Sentebale — and if he were to step into the commercial space, I suspect it would be an area that already interests him, such as eco-tourism.

The couple tell friends they believe this is a positive step that can pave the way for all future younger royals, including Charlotte and Louis, Prince George’s younger siblings. If Prince Charles and William want a slimmed-down monarchy, Harry clearly believes he and his wife need to make the best of it.

It’s a beguiling idea, but it’s not going to be easy. They are keenly aware of the potential to be accused of abusing their royal, or now quasi-royal, status. The media will, understandably and rightly, be looking at it with a keen eye, and the potential for a string of difficult, controversial stories is obvious.

Yet their departure leaves the royal family with a big and difficult issue all of its own. The plain fact of the matter is that Harry and Meghan appeal to a young, multicultural, progressive demographic that, to put it kindly, is not the family’s strongest suit. It is not just that they might lose this group, but that it could actively turn against them.

To state the blindingly obvious, we just don’t know what comes next. If their co-operation in the ITV documentary was qualified honesty, what would the real deal look like?

I have some idea of what might be aired in a full, no-holds-barred, sit-down interview and I don’t think it would be pretty.

I suspect the royal family would carry British public opinion still — perhaps only just — but its international standing is a key part of its value to the British state. If that were to be tarnished, it could be very damaging indeed.

The days ahead will be challenging. Perhaps one of the few positives is that the entire crisis has pushed Prince Charles and his elder son closer together for the first time in years. Harry might allow himself a wry smile at that. But the family urgently needs a meaningful peace deal with the young breakaway couple, because a protracted war would be very bloody indeed.

Tom Bradby is the anchor of News at Ten. Harry & Meghan: A Royal Crisis? will be shown on ITV at 10.15pm today

So what do you guys think? In my opinion Tom makes it sound as if the Sussexes are blackmailing the Royal family. Many people are already stating that. I don't get it, he must know people have problems with comprehensive reading as it is. I'm very disappointed in him. Tom, not Harry obviously. Tom's not helping here.

#war of the Windsors or fiction #new era #new era article #Sussexes January20 #duke of Sussex #duchess of sussex #january 2020 #tom bradby

[redcrownroses]

Capable: Arthur Morgan x F!Reader

Summary: You come up with a good robbery job, except there’s one small problem. Arthur won’t let you do it. You decide to disobey and do it either way but things don't turn out the way you expected them to. FLUFF.

Warnings: Injury, blood, mentions of sex

A/N: This is my first contribution to the fandom! I enjoy writing and I’m always nervous when putting my content out there. But anyways! I love Arthur so much!! I had this idea yesterday and decided to try my hand at it. So far I liked how it turned out. It gets pretty fluffy and sweet towards the end. Hope you guys like it, some feedback would also be greatly appreciated :)

                                        —🌹—

“No it’s far too dangerous for ya to go alone.” Arthur warned as he stared at a map in front of him. You were standing to his side, both hands resting flat on the round wooden table.

“I just think that if I were to go around 2 am it wouldn’t be much of a problem. There's only two guards at that time trust me I know what I’m doin’.” Your eyes bore into him though he kept his gaze fixated on the map.  

“No.” Arthur said firmly. “Besides Javier and I are already plannin’ a robbery so please Y/N just drop it. I have work to do right now.” He heaved a sigh and ran a hand down his face, eyes flickering towards the small lapping waves of the lake. Approaching footsteps made you both turn your heads towards the source. “Ah Javier you’re back.” Arthur didn’t spare you a glance which only caused you to roll your eyes and stomp away. “What’s up with her?” Javier arched a brow and Arthur shook his head. “Ah ya know how she is. Stubborn as always.” Arthur dismissed the subject with a curt wave of his hand and the two men began planning out their robbery.

You huffed as you stormed into your tent. You’ve been planning this out for a while now and it irked you to a great extent that Arthur immediately dismissed it. You know how to defend yourself and you’ve proven time and again that you were a very capable woman. 

Arthur knew that as well. He was just being cautious though. Too cautious this time around. Ever since the both of you started being sweet on one another right after the Blackwater mess you couldn’t help but notice how extra protective he became of you. It was endearing at first, you could admit, but as time passed by it began to bother you. Can’t really blame the man though, he finally found something good and real after everything he’s been through. Losing you would be beyond cruel.

As you sat down on your bedroll and began cleaning your twin pistols you thought about asking Dutch’s opinion on the matter but if he were to find out that Arthur rejected your idea, well, it was more than likely that Dutch would side with his right-hand man. And worse, give that job to someone else. You couldn’t let that happen. This was your goddamn job.

It was then that you decided to go through with it with or without Arthur’s consent. 

Like it’s been noted before, you are more than capable of taking care of yourself and pulling through with a job. You gathered all the necessary belongings you were to bring on your trip and took a peek through the flaps of your tent. You watched as the two men conversed by the round table, Arthur’s back facing you. The golden rays of the setting sun reflected on Arthur’s light brown locks, causing a halo like aura to appear around it. He looked like an angel but sometimes he was a demon. Right now he was definitely the latter. 

You sighed and looked away. As much as it hurt to disobey like this you just knew that this take would be worth it. The more money, the sooner you can all finally get away from this outlaw life. All you needed was to get your hands on that state bond that was worth some thousand dollars. You were fortunate to have come across a drunken man working as a guard at the place you were gonna rob at the saloon not too long ago.

Draping your satchel over your shoulder, you took one last peek from your tent flaps before proceeding to fix your button up shirt and try to appear nonchalant. You stepped outside and headed towards Pearson’s post where he was happily singing one of his many sailor songs as he chopped away for tonight’s dinner. 

“Hey Pearson I’m going into town for a while. Gonna order me a hot bath, gather some new supplies, and snoop around if anyone asks. I’ll be back tomorrow morning.” He nodded with a quick wave of his hand and you made your way towards your horse, Mabel, and hopped on.

                ��                       —🌹—

The ride to Cornwall Kerosene & Tar went just as expected. You arrived within the time period you had predicted and you hardly came across other lone riders on the way. You climbed off of Mabel, patting her and feeding her a sugar cube. “Good girl,” you smiled up at her and continued petting on her muzzle before moving towards the saddlebag and fishing out some canned beans and meat. You were starving and you still had about two hours until you went into action.

You kicked some dirt onto the campfire and climbed onto Mabel. You checked the time, a half hour left until 2. Perfect. You tugged at the reins and guided your horse towards your destination. 

It took about five minutes to finally get there and you immediately fished out your binoculars from your satchel and surveyed the area. Just how you expected it. Two guards at the front entrance, one making their way towards the back area. 

You hitched Mabel onto a nearby tree and began trekking towards the private property. Once you were closer you took cover behind a large wooden crate.

Just then a guard began rounding the corner and you silently peeked from behind the crate, thankful that there wasn’t good lighting in that area. He quickly scanned the vicinity before pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up. 

You weren’t sure how long he was gonna stay there and began formulating some plan to get past him when all of a sudden you heard the other guard calling for him, apparently he ran out of cigarettes of his own. Guess you just got lucky there. You couldn’t help but feel a bit cocky about that as you stood up and slinked towards the door. 

Upon approaching the upstairs office, you quietly began searching the place for the piece of paper. You searched and searched but you still found nothing. So much for luck. You heaved a soft sigh as you brushed back some flyaways from your forehead. Your eyes landed on a pretty painting hanging on the wall on your right. You knitted your brows together as a thought came across your mind and you stepped towards it. 

You brought your hands up and lifted the painting, you didn’t expect it to be quite heavy and almost dropped it. Breathing heavily, heart pumping quickly, you set it down on the floor carefully before looking back up at the safe box. You grinned. Now to get it open. As you worked your way through it you didn’t hear one of the guards coming upstairs until it was too late. 

“Hey! Stop right there!” You whipped around, eyes wide as dinner plates as the guard pointed his repeater at you. You immediately raised your hands up in surrender. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” 

You were fast as you dodged behind the desk and the guard began to open fire, alerting the other one downstairs. There were some more gunshots and you managed to distribute some of your own. The guard ducked and backed out of the room to take some cover behind the adjacent wall. You took this opportunity to fire a few rounds at the wall and when your heard a yell you knew you hit your target. You then bolted towards the window and opened it. Turning sideways, you swiftly swung a leg out but before you could climb out completely the other guard came into view and fired at you. 

You let out a yelp as you climbed completely out the window, stumbling as you tried to steady yourself. The searing pain now coursed through the right side of your waist. You brought a hand over it and felt your blood immediately soaking your hand. This was bad. Your heard one of the guards yelling and boots stalking towards the window. Without a moment's hesitation you fired a couple of rounds towards the window as you backed up, eyes roaming around you wildly.

 You weren’t sure how you were gonna get down. That is until you heard a couple of gunshots coming from inside the building. Your features pulled back in bewilderment as you backed up against the wall behind you for support. When the gunfire ceased and the only sound heard was those of the insects, you finally allowed yourself to slide down the wall and onto the wooden planks of the roof beneath you.

“Y/N?” The familiar voice filled your ears, and although it was rough and filled with concerned you couldn’t help but smile faintly. “A-Arthur,” you managed to utter weakly. You felt yourself lose strength as the moments passed by. You heard heavy footsteps as they neared the window. Finally you heard him again, this time calling your name firmly as he climbed out the window. You could barely muster enough strength to lift your head up towards him. You felt heavy and you fought hard to keep your eyelids open. 

“Arthur,” you whispered softly, half lidded eyes flickering towards him as he hastily knelt down in front of you. “I—” 

He cut you off softly. “Shhh.” 

He immediately removed your hand from your wound and examined it. It was a good thing that the roof area there was well lit by one of the light posts. 

Arthur emitted a soft sigh of relief as he met your eyes again. “It’s only a graze but you’re bleeding so much. Needa apply some pressure on it.” He spoke softly.

He hurriedly dug through his satchel and took out his bandana before unfolding it to the cleaner area. Despite your hazy state you still noticed that Arthur’s hands were slightly trembling. 

“Here.” He placed it on your side with applied pressure and you let out a whimper as you shut your eyes tightly and gritted your teeth. “You’re gonna be okay, darlin’. You could get through this you’re strong.” He reassured you softly (and at the same time he was also reassuring himself). It helped you calm down a substantial amount. 

A small smile stretched across your pale lips. “I know.” That was the last thing you managed to say before everything went black.

                                       —🌹—

Everything and everywhere ached. You slowly opened your eyes and saw him staring down at you, a sturdy hand entwined with yours. He smiled affectionately and brought your hand up to plant a soft kiss at the back, his other hand caressing your thigh that was covered with a blanket. 

“Ya gave me quite a scare back there, darlin’.” It was almost a whisper and you noticed the slight tremor in his voice. His ocean colored eyes were filled with relief but there was also sorrow. It broke your heart witnessing that. 

“I’m sorry,” you croaked. Arthur shook his head. “You’re safe now.” It was then that your eyes traveled around the room you were in, confusion setting in. Arthur couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at how adorable you looked at that moment. 

“We’re at the doctor's in Valentine. Wasn’t sure if ya were gonna make the ride here but you were a trooper.”

You tried to sit up but immediately felt pain surging through the right side of your waist. It spread like wildfire across your abdomen. “Don’t.” Arthur warned as he gently placed a flat hand on your stomach. “You’re not gonna be moving for a while.” You frowned momentarily and inspected your patched up wound before looking back at him. 

“How—How did you know?” Arthur smoothed out the white sheets over your body before his gaze settled onto you. 

“I saw you ride out and when Pearson told me you were goin’ into town I knew immediately that was a lie, otherwise you wouldn’t be traveling the opposite direction.” He looked down as he caressed your hand in his. 

“So you knew then.” It was a statement rather than a question and Arthur simply nodded. 

“I dropped everythin’ and immediately rode out. Had a bad feelin’.” You swallowed thickly and felt a pang of guilt. You should have listened to him. Never again would you let your pride get in the way like this. 

“I almost had it,” you spoke quietly. “I swear I did. I just don’t know what happened, why the guard decided to check upstairs at that time. But none of that matters anymore, I guess. I was bein’ foolish. Prideful. And I should’ve listened to you. I guess what I was trying to do was prove myself.” You looked away. “In a way I deserved that.” You felt tears coating your eyes, threatening to cascade at any given movement. Arthur’s hold on your hand tightened.

“No you didn’t, darlin’. You almost died out there—I almost lost ya. I was so scared. And yeah you were acting like a fool goin’ behind my back but never say you deserve something like that ya hear? And darlin’,” his voice grew softer. “I know that you are capable. I’ve seen you fight. You have it in you. Don’t ever think that I’m doubtin’ you because I’m not and I sure as hell never will.”

 A single tear rolled down the side of your cheek and Arthur was swift in wiping it away with his thumb, coaxing you to turn and face him afterwards. 

“But that wasn’t the only reason ya know,” you uttered softly. He nodded and caressed your jaw. 

“I promise ya that we’re gonna get out of this. We’ll find some more money somewhere else and then we can finally build our lives together the way we’ve been wanting to.” 

You couldn’t hold it back anymore. Upon hearing those words the tears began flowing. “Out west?” He nodded, lips curving into a loving smile and you returned the gestured as you sniffled. “Living in a ranch?” 

He chuckled softly. “Yeah, we’ll own a nice lil ranch. And best of all we’ll be married.” 

You giggled softly before speaking again. “And have some mini Arthurs running’ ‘round the house.” He leaned forward slowly, gazing affectionately at you with a smile still gracing his features. 

“And mini Y/Ns too, playin’ everywhere.” His lips met yours tenderly, fingers grazing your jaw before moving up to cup your cheek. You reveled in the moment as he lavished you with sweet, tender kisses. If it were physically possible you would melt right there and then in his strong hold. 

You raked your fingers through his hair and down his neck as the kiss gradually deepened. After a few more moments you pulled back, your breathing labored along with Arthur’s from the activity. “It’s too bad I won’t be able to move or do anything for a while,” you teased and bit your lip as your gaze fell onto his torso, your hands caressing his chest and feeling the muscles underneath his flannel shirt. 

“You teasing me, woman?” Arthur’s voice rumbled deeply, the vibrations could be felt on your palms. 

“I suppose we’ll have to wait until I’m fully healed.” 

Arthur shook his head though there was a smirk that formed on his lips. He leaned down once again, lips hovering over yours and barely brushing up against them in a tantalizing manner. 

“We’ll find a way...” his voice dropped dangerously low and like a switch it instantly fueled your core. His lips finally met yours in a fervent yet gentle manner. It was endearing how he could be so gentle. 

This big scary outlaw was the softest and purest man you’d ever met. Truly, he possessed a heart of gold. And he was yours and you were his. You felt like the luckiest woman on earth. As the both of you continued your sweet romantic endeavor, for a moment you thought that maybe you did die back there and this was the afterlife.

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur x reader #arthur morgan #rdr2 #rdr #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2fanfic #rdrfanfic #read dead redemption 2 fanfic #i'm soft #my writing