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etfrin · 2 months

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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter twenty | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | canon typical violence, cunnilingus, Coriolanus Snow, cumming untouched | lmk if I forgot anything

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 Coriolanus Snow gets punished and then he gets himself a reward

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 so here's another update guys! I hope y'all will like it! Thank you!

beta read by my darling 😽 @nowitsmissing

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Coriolanus didn't know what to expect from you. You were beyond his logic. He liked that about you, but he couldn't help but get paranoid because of it. So many truths were revealed yesterday. His love for you confessed shamelessly, horribly. He had expected it to be romantic, it was raw and monstrous.

Not a tale they could tell their future children.

But it was on brand for them, he knew. He couldn't expect anything less. Snow already felt himself going half insane with the punishment you said you'd give him. He couldn't bear guessing, knowing that you'd prove him wrong anyway.

Then he realized… you hadn't spoken a word to him since this morning. Not a word, not a single glance, nothing… Much like his reaction when he saw you yesterday. His face was blank, he kept quiet until he was alone with you.

Was the punishment silent treatment?

Huh… it's not the worst.

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He lied.

It was much, much, worse. Coriolanus Snow wasn't a jealous man. He simply thought that some people were worthy of more, and he is those people. And therefore, only he is worthy of the teasing smile you were giving to some of the Peacekeepers! They were worthless. You have his name carved on your skin, he was disgusted by the expression you were giving them.

Maybe, he was overreacting, but he saw no need to be this friendly with them. However, he knew a logical sense that being on their good side especially while staying in the district is important. That doesn't mean you have to smile at them, pay attention to them, and converse with them!

You were driving him insane.

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Sejanus was getting attention from you, but not him? This wasn't punishment any longer, it was torture. Sejanus asked you about why you didn't reply to his letters. It wasn't a lie when you said you didn't receive them. And Sejanus believed you easily enough, his attention more directed in showing his gratefulness when you pulled out some of his old books.

Your ma gave them to me, you had said.

Coriolanus believed it. He wondered if Tigris gave anything of his to you, he wondered if you were still connected to his family the way you were with Sejanus.

Coriolanus Snow wanted you to be a part of his family, he wanted you to be closer to his grandma’am than Sejanus Ma.

He revisited the letters from Tigris, and there wasn't a single mention of you. But he had found out they had lost the damn penthouse, however they had enough for food and other necessities through Tigris. It was thanks to the small business she had managed to stand up after she had designed clothes for you.

He didn't try to suppress the guilt he felt as he found out about this right now when it was addressed weeks ago. Coriolanus slowly but surely replied to each letter of Tigris individually. It took all night, but Tigris was family. She didn't abandon him and Coriolanus will be damned before he does the same.

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Coriolanus' jaw was bruised from the punch he had taken. It wasn't his fault, really, getting into a fight with his fellow Peacekeepers. He was frustrated, he wondered just how long you'd keep this stupid, childish behavior up.

He punched back, and he was sure that he had broken the jaw of his opponent. He built up much-needed strength after being here for months after all. It was a silly fight. The boys were talking about you. It was typical of men, but with how quickly the words turned crude he didn't tolerate another word.

He was quick to punch the man that started it and surprisingly Sejanus didn't play the mediator for once. The Plinth boy joined in, helping Sejanus beat up the man. They both got a punishment from Commander Hoff.

It was worth it.

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Coriolanus couldn't take it anymore. It had been days. Specifically, 96 hours to be exact. Not that he was counting or anything. He marched you to your room, he even knocked.

He received no answer. He lets out a sigh, knocking till his knuckles hurt. “Come on,” he said, knowing you will be able to hear his voice. “Open the door,” he commanded.

You didn't open the door.

“Open the door,” he said, his tone softer.

Nothing. He couldn't hear anything from your side either.

Then he lets out a shaky breath, his palm pressed on the wood. “Please, please, please,” he begs, his voice low, “please, please…”

Nothing.

Finally, he tried the doorknob, ignoring the sting of tears in his eyes. He was breaking down, and the room was empty. You weren't even here.

He may or may not have cried.

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After Coriolanus had showered, he learned that you and Sejanus were at The Hob. The Peacekeepers were given the day off, and while he spent it crying inside of your room, you were having fun. That's fucking enough.

Snow couldn't take it anymore.

When he went there, he could see Lucy Gray and several others performing a song. Another day, he would enjoy it, but it was different because he couldn't find you in the crowd and he grew agitated.

His eyes were red, his jaw bruised purple-blue. It hurt, even after the cold shower. But it didn't matter. He will have you look at him tonight. He will have you speak to him. The world be damned. Coriolanus is much more fucking significant.

Wasn't he?

Coryo pushes through the crowd to find himself at the corner of the warehouse The Hob was in. He stopped as he saw you leaning on the wall. You weren't alone. But you weren't with Sejanus or any other Peacekeepers.

You were with Billy Taupe, Lucy Gray's infamous ex and the boyfriend of the mayor's daughter.

You were smiling at him, both of you were so incredibly close to each other that Coriolanus wanted to tear distance between the both of you. Coriolanus could hear the thump of his heartbeat, every other sound quiet in his mind as he walked towards the both of you.

He catches you and he sees your lips form a smirk, as you pull Billy Taupe closer. And closer. Oh, fuck no. He reaches at the right time, pulling him off you and pinning him to a wall.

“That's my girl, motherfucker,” he growls.

He throws the boy on the floor, gathering the attention of several around him. Snow didn't care, he was seeing red. He was beyond pissed. He was seething. He vaguely noticed that the music had stopped as he straddled Billy Taupe, pinning him to the ground with his hand on the shoulder. He used his free hand to repeat punches, again and again until his knuckles were more red than anything.

Coriolanus could hear the screaming of Billy. He heard the cries of Maudy Ivory; he heard the plea in Sejanus' voice as he begged him to stop. Sejanus and a few others tried but couldn't get him off, he was feral. He was going to kill Billy Taupe. He was going to enjoy it.

“Coryo, stop.”

He stills. Of course, he does.

Anything for his love.

“Get off.”

He obeys, his chest rising up and down as he turns towards you. He offered you his hand, not caring that blood was dripping off of it. You take it, intertwining his fingers with yours. Smearing the blood on your skin, taking half the blame for it in the metaphorical sense. Coriolanus was glad he wasn't alone anymore.

He couldn't survive being alone.

You take the lead as both of you walk away from the scene. None of the spectators dare to stop you. Coriolanus and you walk, it's dark and no one can see as tears fall from his eyes again. The saltiness in the air could easily be mistaken that it is due to the blood.

If you hear him sniff, you don't say anything. He is grateful for that. Soon, both of you reach the room you were staying in. You walk in, still holding Snow's hand. Coriolanus follows you without a question.

He lets go of your hand. He gets on both of his knees, he gasps, more tears falling from his eyes. He looks up at you and sees you looking down at him. The only light was from the moon coming through the window in the corner. You were being showered in it.

“Never again,” he whispered, his voice raspy.

More tears fall. He can't help it. He's so overwhelmed by the anger of what you did and the attention you were finally giving him.

“Never again what?” You demanded.

He tries to swallow his pride away. Besides you, it was the only thing he had left. He can't do it. He can't so he looks away. What was he supposed to say? ‘I'll never misbehave?’ He wasn't a dog in training. He's not supposed to bark when you ask him. Yet he was. It was humiliating being stripped like this. And you didn't even ask for it, he volunteered because there was no other choice.

“Tell me what you won't do again. You'll never punch Billy? You'll never choke me? You'll never kiss another girl?”

No, no, and yes.

“I wo- won't ever kiss anyone except you.”

“Good…” You clearly expected a sorry but Coriolanus couldn't give it to you. ‘Just forgive me,’ he wanted to yell. Instead, he gets up and walks towards your table. He opened the drawer to take out a knife. The same knife he had used to carve his initials on your skin.

“Not today,” you said before he could press the sharp edge on his skin.

“Why?” He said shocked, more tears burned his eyes. Wasn't he forgiven? Wasn't this enough?

“Just…” you walked towards him, pressing him onto the wood and taking the knife from his hand. You place it on the table before your hand gently holds his jaw. You tilt his head to look at the bruise on his face. “You're hurt enough for today.”

“Then give me something else,” he said.

“What?”

“Your taste.”

It took you a moment to understand what he meant. When you did, your eyes went wide and your breaths fastened. He certainly enjoyed the reaction that meant a yes. He still waited for a verbal answer before he took any action.

“Okay,” you whispered.

He quickly switches places with you before he guides you to the bed and makes you sit down on it. You follow his lead. Coriolanus gets on his knees again. This time to make you scream his name.

He takes off your black stockings with great care. Make sure not to cause an accidental tear on the delicate fabric. He even takes off your heels. You raise your hips so your skirt and panties can slide down past your legs and onto the floor.

He breathes in much-needed air to calm his heartbreak as he takes in the view in front of him. He dreamed of this for so many nights that it didn't feel real. He parts your legs with his hands, creating space between your thighs. He leans in, caging himself. If he dies from suffocation, then he dies happy.

He felt your hand on his buzzcut, your nails gently scratching his scalp. He lets out a whine, his nose pressed to your thigh. He breathes in the scent of your arousal and lets out a groan. Coriolanus could feel his pants getting tight.

Snow closes the gap between your wet pussy and his tongue with a slow, languid lick. You moan above him, already sensitive. He sees your cunt clenching around nothing. He sharpened his tongue and pressed the tip to your leaking slit. Up, and down he moves the wet muscle, his tongue sliding inside of you and you encourage this action with your thighs tightening around his head.

He digs into his meal, letting his tongue wander all over your sloppy, wet cunt with wonder. He moans as your juices coat his tongue. He loves the taste of you. He knew he would find himself addicted to this. He finds something like a bud as his tongue wanders. When he flicks it, you cry out of pleasure. So he lets his tongue work, his hands on your thighs, his nails digging into your flesh.

He flicks the pearl with the tip of his tongue again and again, until he knows it's swollen. Then he takes the bud in his mouth and sucks, it was too rough. He knew because you cried out, your hips pushing up and he had to press you down.

“Coryo!” You cry out and he lets your clit pop out of his mouth. He kisses the swollen, abused, and oversensitive bud before he returns attention to your folds. He broadly licks making sure to have all of your arousal on his tongue only, he didn't want to miss a single drop.

He snakes in a hand between your legs, his thumb finding your clit. He used his other hand to make sure your leg was spread wide and nice for him to feast. He pressed into the bud with the pad of his finger. The pressure gives you pure bliss in your veins. He feels your pussy clench again, oozing out more arousal. He licks it all up, his tongue fucking into your walls. His thumb begins to draw rough circles on your swollen clit. You whimper and whine.

The sounds are music to his ears. Quickly enough you begin to warn him, “Gonna cum, Coryo!” He only fastens his actions, getting rougher, sloppier and so much more needy to have you cum on his damn face. ‘Cum, cum, cum,’ he chants in his head, utterly and pathetically desperate for you.

You scream out his name, the coil in your tummy snapping as your pussy spasms and cum all over his face. His tongue slows down, leisurely tasting your release. You have to push him away when he doesn't stop and you could feel yourself getting tired. Your bones turn to jelly.

Coriolanus leans back, wiping his mouth. He looks down at his pants and frowns as he sees a wet spot on his pants. That explains the relief he felt. He had come inside of his pants. He doesn't let the embarrassment take him over. It was too dark to see anything after all.

He stands up and sees you all crossed-eyed. He grins, and he gently pats your cheek trying to get you to your senses. “Bye, dove,” he whispered with a smirk.

As he walks down the hallway he wonders who truly won this round.

After all, he was the one who got what he wanted and you gave it to him just like that.

NEXT PART

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risuola · 2 months

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III — GAMBARE, GAMBARE — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN

In the world of crime and blood, Sukuna knows what's off limits. You certainly are one of those things and yet, he's unable to stop thinking of you.

cw: smut, little angst-ish in some places, mafia!au, unprotected sex, a hint of body worshipping, violence, mentions of death, subtle threats, reader discretion is advised — 3,2k words

a/n: third part, thank you so much for support guys! it means the world to me to see how INSANELY big is the tag list now. i literally love y'all~ ❤️ also, just as the first part got inspired by the absolutely menacing quote from our king, it only felt natural to include the famous gambare, gambare (do your best) into this one.

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Sukuna prefers to think of himself as one of significant intelligence. Over the years, during which he ruled over the entire criminal milieu, he proved himself to stand atop of anyone who dared to even think of overturning his jurisdiction. All the exceptionally dumb bold ones that once wished to take the position of a boss from his hands had learned the hard way why troubles with Sukuna Ryomen are the least desirable fate of anyone who bears any volume of oil inside their brains.

It’s not only tactical or business intelligence that he’s priding himself with. It’s also the excessive knowledge about general rules of life that allowed him to comfortably push and pull the edges of what’s right and wrong, bending his own reality to his liking. Now it’s intuitive – he just knows where he can put more pressure and where it’s not worth his time. He knows what to bet his money on and what won’t realistically pay back. And most importantly, up until that point, Sukuna thought he can tell with his eyes closed which people he should consider crossing paths with, what men can be useful whilst he aims to reach his targets and which crowds he shouldn’t mess around with – for various reasons, most of which being just business and inconvenience. Same thing concerns women. Ryomen’s position works like a magnet and not a day passes by without girls, often way too young to even think of him, throwing themselves at him, led by fantasies of money and power veiled in the shades of love. If he wished, he could have a different toy every time the night falls and if he’d be just slightly less trained, he might have fallen for the temptation. But he didn’t.

Sukuna learned it from experience, not exactly his own, but of his pawns, that allowing random women in the proximity of their profession usually leads to catastrophes. Girls get persistent, they grow attached, they fall in love sooner than it’s even logical and then they threat, they blackmail; all of which eventually leads to their deaths because dealing with just barely adults that weaponize tears and screams is something he doesn’t allow in his circle. There were no exceptions, any man bearing similar power to Ryomen knows that there’s no place for romance in the world of death and bones, the one that’s stained in red and sorrow. If there happens to be love, it’s always of people from inside the criminal circle, sharing the same set of broken morals. Mafia should never tie itself romantically with civilians. Especially him, the leader, the menace that he is in the world of misdeed, murder and corruption, knew all too well why he should never, ever, even think of someone from outside of his tale as of anything more than one time plaything. That would be irresponsible, straight up naïve. It would be foolish. He knew all of that and not even once he felt any need to engage into any kind of relationship with someone that he deemed non-profitable to his general targets.

Then why the fuck he kept thinking of you? Why he kept seeing you after what was supposed to be a fun one-time fuck? Why did the taste of your lips and the sweet scent of your skin made him so completely addicted that he couldn’t focus on his own business without his mind wandering to the memory of you at least once an hour? He just liked your body, he told himself every time he thought of sending you a message. You were a good lay, it was purely physical. You did, after all, take his dick like you were born solely for this very purpose. He was meeting you only for sex and it was an accident that some of these meetings began with a dinner. All of the gifts he showered you with were just a form of payment for the service. Sukuna knew much better than to let his emotions take control of him.

“What’s on your mind?” Your quiet voice tore Ryomen out of the realm of his self-criticism. The tone that you spoked with was raspy, the testimony of the rough, throat-fucking he had used you for just few hours prior, and yet, it still somehow flowed with cottony softness, so characteristic to you.

“Nothing important,” he replied bluntly, lowering his gaze to where your face was buried into the broad muscle of his chest; your frame completely hidden in his own, much larger and stronger. It was another night you spent in his house, one of those that began with the reservation in one of Tokyo’s best restaurants that served traditional Japanese cuisine. You showed up in a dress made of dark olive silk, long enough to reach your high-heeled sandals and clinging to your shapes as if it was made to be worn over the divinity that was your body. The long, scandalous slit exposed one of your legs and the thin straps accentuated your shoulders and cleavage just perfectly. It was a dress that he himself bought and ordered to be delivered to you in an expensive box before that day. Now that very same gown was laying somewhere, discarded on the floor in the living room of his mansion.

“Sometimes I feel like you’re plotting my death,” you chuckled against his skin, the vibration of the act made him scoff because both him and you knew that the scenario you offered wasn’t exactly falling into the realm of fiction.

“If I were to kill you, I wouldn’t need to plot it. One bullet is all it would take,” he retorted with calm and despite any logic, instead of creating some distance, instead of running away you hummed at his statement and pressed your lips to the center of his chest.

You were way over fearing Sukuna and his world. The few months that you spend seeing him, you came to terms with the heavy weight of tragic fate that was now resting on your shoulders. It couldn’t end well, you shouldn’t tangle yourself with a man such as him, the path of your normal life should never come even close to the blood tainted one he was walking through. You should have never left the club with him and once you did, you should have run out his house the moment he gave you a chance. Instead of that, you stayed. That night, after the time of Ryomen’s pursue and the unfortunate event with Naoya and his gang, soon turned into two. Then just few more and then many more. The one-night stand evolved into continuous romance and though it was strewn with roses and intimacy, it came also with the realization that the more you see him, the less days you have left. There was no way for someone like you, an outsider, the mere civilian with no mafia bonds whatsoever, to be living a long life. Sukuna has enemies, there are people that want the power he holds and will eventually target you. That is, of course, if he doesn’t kill you himself over time – out of boredom or prevention. You knew a lot, he had told you more than he should.

But you loved him. You had seen him do some pretty dark things that would make most people’s eyes water, and in all honesty, it did the same thing to yours, but then, with you, Sukuna was always protective. You loved the way he always seemed to know just what you needed, the way he read you like an open book and knew just what to say or do to put you at ease. You loved the way he made you feel like the only woman in the world, how he made you feel beautiful, even on the days you felt like a total mess. He was a danger, a threat so deadly you shouldn’t play with it, he was a flame that you were bound to burn yourself on, but he was also the only person in the world you felt so safe around. Ever since you met, he had protected you. Even if his words were harsh and his own deeds rough, he never failed to envelop you in a bubble inside of which nothing and no one could hurt you.

“Oh, how much you’d miss me,” a certain sense of amusement hinted in the tone you used as the sheepish smile stretched your lips. Ryomen acted suddenly, grabbing the tiny thing that was your body and pressing your back to the mattress. His fingers wrapped around the frail of your neck; it wouldn’t take much of his strength to snap it and yet, you seemed rather comfortable with his grip secured around your airways. Over the time you managed to grow enough trust to know he won’t hurt you for no reason. Your lover was a man powerful enough, there was no need for seeding fear in you. You were also smart enough to differentiate the real danger from the playful acts. If Sukuna truly wanted you to be scared, you most definitely would be scared shitless.

“You think so?” His tone dropped an octave as he crawled above you; your bare figure now trapped underneath the weight of his presence. He got your legs between his initially, the heavy shaft of his dick rested over your lower belly as he shifted his hand from your throat down to cup your breasts. Your body seemed to never stop attract him, no matter how many times he touched and tasted it. You looked almost angelic in the dim light of that morning; the remnants of sleep still painted over your features and the only things that disturbed the innocence of your picture were the marks he had left on your plush, velvety skin. Red and angry spots that he sucked onto your flesh adorned the beauty of your frame, ultimately making you his own. “Aren’t you a little too confident?”

“I think I’m confident just enough,” you grinned playfully, smoothing over his hands, one staying on top of his palm on your breast and the other reaching up his arm to touch more of him. There was always a hunger lingering inside of you, you were never completely satiated and even if your body was utterly exhausted, you were always happy to take more. Sukuna made you feel ecstatic, like you were really his only one and though it was an illusion that you chose to believe in, it felt good to imagine yourself as his only care.

“And why would I miss you, huh? Aren’t you only a plaything for me?” The question he asked was meant to sound venomous but the sound of his voice betrayed the lighthearted intention. “Do you think I’ll blink twice when discarding you when I get bored of what you can give me?”

“I don’t think you’ll hesitate,” a chuckle once again shook your chest gently as you watched how Sukuna gently pulled your legs up from underneath him and brought one of your ankles to his face. The kisses he smeared along your shin were delicate, completely contrasting with the threatful impression that he was trying to make. He was worshipping you so openly, it made you blush every time. “But even though I know you wouldn’t think twice before killing me, I also think you’d miss me afterwards.”

Once the tender caresses finished, your calves landed on top of his shoulders as he leaned forward, squeezing a breathy moan out of you as he pushed his length into you to the very base of it, sliding on enough spit that it made the entrance easy. Ryomen learned your body through and through, he knew you can take it, he knew you’re always ready and eager to take him. Even if it’s early, even if it hurts. No matter when and where, if he told you to sit on his dick in the middle of a grocery store, you’d probably do just that and ask no questions. And yet, he knew where the boundaries are. Not once he pushed you when you were feeling bad. Not once he used you when you were not ready. The knowledge he now had about you came from observation.

“I think I would miss you,” he purred, his lips so close that they brushed against yours as he spoke. He’s got you in a mating press, filled to the brim with his bricked-up manhood and completely at his mercy. “You are addicting.”

“So keep me safe,” you whispered, cupping his face and chasing the kiss he was yet to give you. The request caught him slightly off guard. The pleading undertone made his heart clench; a feeling that he’s gone without for a decade at least and though he hated the odd sensation in his chest, he also couldn’t deny the warmth that spread throughout his body.

“You are safe with me,” the reassuring lie he followed with a heavy press onto your lips, sealing his words with his own tongue and silently promising you his protection. A vow that he wished to keep and yet, feared he won’t be able to. But now, it wasn’t important. Now you were here, in his bed, on his dick. Now there was just you and him.

Your dainty fingers found their place in his hair as he began thrusting into you. The new slick that combined with the remnants of the night made his movements easy as he dragged his hips back almost all the way out and then pushed back to the point of his pelvis clashing with the back of your thighs and your ass. The pace he set wasn’t fast. It wasn’t anything of what he’d most often pick, there was no violence intertwined into the melody of his hips. That morning it was sensual, it was deep and just rapid enough to stimulate every sweet spot inside of you. Stroke after stroke he was driving you crazy, he just barely started and already you felt yourself dripping. The filthy, wet sounds filled in the early aura and the muffled moans and whimpers accompanied them.

Sukuna allowed your legs to fall lower from where they were pressed against your chest and you hooked them around his hips. The newly earned access to his neck and shoulders you immediately used by allowing your hands to wander in the area, scratching his skin just to force a low purr from his throat. Every sound he made, you swallowed greedily as the kiss continued. Your tongues were dancing to the fiery rhythm of intimacy.

The coil in your stomach tightened all too quickly, you wished it to give you more time to enjoy what he was willing to give you but no matter how much you wanted your body to calm down, he made it absolutely impossible to achieve. Your veins were running with pure ecstasy and lust, the heated flurry that now was your brain was focused only on him, on the rhythm of his hips, on every sweet little lie that he whispered to you. Ryomen knew how to make you weak, he knew just how to angle his body to hit that one spot, the most sensitive one and you could feel him grinning against your lips. He knew you were close. The delicious squeezes that your cunt did on his girth were enough of a hint to notice and it gave him a sense of pride to be able to make you come undone so easily.

“Just few moments more,” he murmured and you nodded eagerly. Tears prickled in your eyes, gathering along your lash lines like crystals that he wished to kiss away, but was now too engulfed in the taste of your lips to part. His movements got quicker, just a little heavier as he began slamming into you with more force than at the beginning. Mornings tend to rid Sukuna from the ability to last – the ones that he spends with you in his arms, with your naked body pressed against his, unknowingly shifting against his dick for hours. That makes him unable to keep his composure for too long. Sometimes he feels like you strip him of all qualities that he once prided himself in, leaving him bare only to your eyes, with only the most primal needs exposed and he felt good with that kind of freedom.

“…don’t stop, oh god, ‘kuna~”, you were whimpering, arching your back underneath him and squeezing your little hands over his shoulders. “I can’t, I—”

“Oh, you can. Do your best,” Sukuna chuckled, teasing you with such impossible tasks. Your head fell back, your thighs were trembling against his sides and he could tell he’s losing you. You were far too deep in the realm of desire to hear his words; all of your world now came down to what you felt, to how you felt him and Sukuna loved your blissed out state. He loved the way he was the one to push you so far over the edge that you wouldn’t notice if the world was ending. But what he loved above that, was how you were gripping onto him; holding him tightly, pulling him closer as if you never wanted him to move away, as if he was everything you needed. And he was.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he muttered against your throat, painting the skin over there with wet trails of kisses and new, red marks – the ones gentle enough to fade in a matter of hours. You moaned something incoherent. “Cum for me,” he allowed, not even sure if you’re registering his words. It had to be unconscious; the way your brain caught his voice between the blurry lines of everything else.

Your climax hit you like a rock; his name was slipping over your tongue continuously, so sweet and breathless that Sukuna was once again reassured that he never wants to hear anyone else calling him. Your walls were squeezing his throbbing length, he twitched and flexed inside you, groaning with satisfaction and before he allowed himself to come, he pushed himself up. As he sat on his heels, he pulled you with him; your body now on top of him and he used his hands to guide your hips up and down his dick. You wrapped yourself around him, finding a safe space for your face right where his neck connects with his muscular shoulder and all he needed to feel the bliss was the sensation of your teeth sinking into his skin.

White seed painted your insides as he shot it as deeply as he could reach with you on top of him. Few more moves, few more groans and you could feel him relax. His strong arms snaked around your waist as he shifted slightly to lean against the headboard, straightening his legs in front of him. You stayed pressed against his chest, catching your breath and feeling the tension leaving your body as the morning went by. And as Sukuna held you so close to his heart, he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that it felt so right and that made the question bloom inside his brain. Was it still strictly physical? Was it ever only about sex?

» PART FOUR

taglist: @yihona-san06 , @tiredscavengerskeleton , @son4aras , @vixorell , @cecesharktales , @isleqt , @thickmacandcheese, @captainchrisstan, @bbylime, @sad-darksoul, @shartnart1, @kiki17483, @grimreaqueer, @phoenix-eclipses, @fan-of-encouragement, @valleydoll, @aleeeeeeees-stuff, @marifujioka, @going-to-californiaxx, @just-pure-trash, @edenofeve, @impulsivethoughtsat2am, @thigh-o-saur, @heyohalie, @matchat3a, @bubblearts, @littlemisspropaganda, @aconstructofamind, @lawislife18, @rzcnlb, @sunukissed

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dnpbeats · 3 months

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(Almost Solid) Proof That Dan Ran PhilsLion

I'm convinced that Dan was the person who ran the PhilsLion twit and I have receipts. For anyone who doesn't know, PhilsLion is a twitter account that tweeted from the POV of Lion. It's commonly thought that this account was run by Phil. Besides the fact that he would interact with the account, there are multiple tweets that seem to be about him and dan. Unfortunately there's good reason to believe it wasn't Phil running it. HOWEVER there are many reasons that lead me to believe it was Dan who was tweeting from it, some of which is evidence based and some of which makes logical sense.

DISCLAIMER: All tweets I've included that are ostensibly about dan and phil's relationship are in reference to things that are confirmed by d&p themselves (e.g. the fact that d&p were romantically involved when they first met). I will not discuss anything that is not supposed to be public knowledge.

First let's look at when the Twitter was created. (Note: I am in UTC-8 so all screenshots will be in that time zone. I will say what time it would've been in UTC+0 (d&p's time zone) for clarity.)

Dan’s twitter account was created in May 2009. The first tweet from him (assuming he did not delete any older ones) was May 15 at 1:18pm. Presumably this is the day he got twitter.

On May 16 2009 at 3:19am Phil tweeted that he uploaded “I was kidnapped.”

In this video he mentions his own personal twitter account, and there is an annotation of Lion saying “i want a twitter” (20sec into the video)

About 3 hours after the video was posted (6:26am UTC+0), we get the first tweet from PhilsLion (presumably this was right after the account was created)

May 16th 2009 was a Saturday. We know from Dan’s video “THE POWER NAP” that he worked at ASDA on Saturdays and Sundays from 5am-10am. So he would’ve been awake shortly after Phil posted the video. Also note that Dan presumably had an iPhone at the time (he tweeted something about iPhones in June 2009 and had no previous tweets before that about getting a new phone). He specifically tweeted in Sep 2009 about tweeting from his iPhone. Based on the fact that Dan literally showed up to work drunk and took a nap, I don’t think he is above going on twitter at work.

While this is not proof that Dan created the account, we can see that it’s definitely possible for him to have created the account. We know he would’ve been awake at the time the account was created, and it was approx. a day after he created his own twitter account, so making a twitter account would've been fresh in his mind.

We do have proof that Phil did not create the account. First, he edited the description of “I was kidnapped.” to say that someone [else] created PhilsLion:

He also tweeted May 16th (10:35am UTC+0 if that matters to anyone) basically saying the same thing as the video desc, implying that someone else made the account:

Finally in “AmazingJason” (posted May 26th) he mentions, again, “someone [else]” creating the Twitter account (about 20seconds in, the timestamp is linked). He encourages everyone to follow it and links it in the description of the video:

So unless Phil was really pushing that someone else created it even though he himself made it, it wasn’t him.

If you want to skip to Proof™ scroll down to the next photo of Phil. Before that, I’d like to debunk the 11:11/different time zone thing–I think this is the biggest reason people have claimed that the account was not run by Phil or Dan but rather some other random fan. On May 30th at 4:12pm UTC+0 and June 3rd at 4:19am UTC+0, PhilsLion tweeted about making wishes at 11:11. In order for these tweets to be made at ~11:11 local time, they would need to have been made in either UTC-5 or UTC+7. UTC-5 is US Eastern Time. UTC+7 is a time zone mainly consisting of Southeast Asia. This includes parts of Indonesia, Cambodia, Laos, Thailand, and Vietnam. I have an explanation for this, which is certainly the biggest reach of this whole thing, but it is a plausible explanation :p

It’s very possible that it was Dan who tweeted this if he was on vacation with his family at the time. We know Dan and his family have vacationed in Asia many times (at the very least they went to Thailand in 2006, India in 2010 and 2013, and Sri Lanka in 2016). So while there’s no proof (that I know of) that Dan was on vacation at this time, it’s certainly possible that he was. The location of the tweets would fit with where we know his family likes to go on holiday. Additionally, the second tweet talks about water skiing, which tends to be a fun vacation thing rather than something people do regularly (note this tweet would be at 11:19am in UTC+7)

There’s further proof that PhilsLion was not always in UTC+7. On Christmas 2009, PhilsLion tweeted “goodmorning” at 6:21am UTC+0. This would be 1:21pm in UTC+7. It makes a lot more sense for this to have been tweeted in England.

Then fast forward to January 8th 2011. PhilsLion tweets “I was up all night” at 8:05am UTC+0. This would be 3pm in UTC+7. So again, it seems that PhilsLion was not in UTC+7 at this time.

Okay, now onto much more solid evidence. First, the handwriting of PhilsLion. This is the most tangible piece of proof. On June 25th 2009 Phil posted “AmazingAlex,” where Lion can be seen behind him in one of Phil’s shoes:

Lion tweeted a photo the next day, saying “I’m on a boat :)” in reference to being in Phil’s shoe

Note that the drawing/writing does not appear in the video and therefore was done by whoever runs PhilsLion. Here is some of Dan’s writing (found in TABINOF) for comparison:

This is from the “how to draw cat whiskers” page. Notice how the As all have the crossbar quite high up, just like in the twitter picture. Additionally, the top loops in the Bs are all very skinny compared to the bottom loop. Here’s another one of Dan’s capital Bs from the blindfolded portrait page, which is similar to Lion's writing:

I’m not a handwriting analysis expert, and yes it’s different drawing on MSPaint vs. a piece of paper, but the handwriting certainly has similarities.

And now, the more circumstantial evidence, but things that seem (imo) to be too big of a coincidence to not have been written by Dan (FYI these are going to be added in order of how much of a reach they are, not chronological order, lol). First we have “I month you”:

This tweet is proposing an alternate word for “love” and ends with “I month you” (i.e. is replacing the word love with month), and was tweeted on November 19th 2009. AKA exactly a month after dan and phil met IRL for the first time.

Another one that seems very related to Dan and what we know of his situation is this tweet about “Lion’s” dad:

In Dan’s own words in BIG: “I didn’t think I could ask my family for help or share my feelings about this, mainly due to my dad. Funny guy, kind of a woke hippie who did and said a lot of things I did respect but at the same time used to walk around the house saying how he hoped someone he had a problem with at work would 'die of bum cancer.' Yep, so picked the one area to be a bigot that would further traumatize your child. Nice! This experience coming from a childhood hearing the word gay meaninglessly thrown around as an insult at home[.]”

Note that Dan was still living at home at the time, so if this tweet was made by him, it wouldn't have meant literally “getting away.” Also, Dan was at home when this was tweeted but it was 3 days before he was going to see Phil.

Next there’s this tweet:

The “admirers” thing could be referring to anything really, but was tweeted during the time that Dan (and Phil) were in the Clipstar video contest. Also, Dan posted this dailybooth two days before this tweet, and most of the comments are just gassing him up, so lol (the pic doesn’t load but based on the comments I think it was a screenshot from his clipstar vid).

This tweet from Christmas Eve 2009. Dan and Phil were together and filming the interactive Christmas adventure:

Proof they were together if anyone needs it:

This tweet (tweeted November 26 5:45am UTC+0)

Many things to note here. The song linked is called “When I See You Again.” It’s by Dave Bullas (one of the founders of SiTC), whom d&p were/are friends with. (They had other friends who were friends with him as well. PJ has the top comment on the video.) The lyrics of the song are not really happy as they insinuate a breakup. But it’s interesting to think about them in the context of wanting to see someone who you are not able to. This tweet was 3/4 days after the “I wonder how biology…” tweet and 3 days before Dan went to see Phil.

Also, Dan just LOVES recommending music to people. He does it a lot.

(^ Proof Dan was seeing Phil on the 29th if anyone needs it)

Now a tweet exchange which doesn't technically prove anything, but I thought was curious. Phil tweeted December 29 2010 about getting a new camera:

Lion tweeted in reference to this 20 minutes later:

I find this interesting because Phil made no comment anywhere about manuals or ignoring them. So it could just be PhilsLion making schput, but a lot of the other Lion tweets are in direct reference to something Phil said/did. It would make sense if Dan ran the twitter acc and he was talking about something that he witnessed Phil do that we don’t know about. Also note “my new camera is here” vs. “phil picked up his new camera” (Lion giving more specific detail than Phil in terms of the manner in which he obtained the camera).

Some Tweets (1, 2, 3) which aren’t proof of anything but just sound like things Dan would say:

For context, this is about floods that happened in Queensland. Again, I have no way to prove Dan said this. But if you’ve ever read, like, anything Dan has said in a print interview ever or watched any of his liveshows, you know that he often tries to say stuff with superfluous/pretentious language and then ends up not making a whole lot of sense. Things that he’s said have been misconstrued so many times, or just outright don’t make sense to anyone but him. So this series of tweets checks out, if it is Dan who ran the account.

This Twitter exchange which doesn’t actually prove anything but is very sweet if it is dan who tweeted it:

The photo is a screenshot from “AmazingJason”:

Note that two weeks later (October 23) in “Life without the internet!?” Phil says the internet led to him “meeting the best friend of [his] life.” The comments all assume he is referencing Dan, but in the video he holds up Lion, so presumably that’s actually who he’s talking about. That is, unless Lion represents Dan :p

Lastly, this tweet which is a Fall Out Boy lyric, but again would be cute if it was Dan:

There's a few more tweets that are interesting to think about being from Dan but don't actually prove anything so I won't put them here lol.

So, at the end of the day, could it be some random fan* who made the twitter account? Yes. But in my opinion there isn’t really anything proving it’s not Dan. On top of that, there are enough things that fit with what we know factually about d&p now, but were not well known at the time, that make it seem much more likely that Dan ran this account vs. a random person.

*technically when the account was started, Dan himself was a random fan. So there’s that too ;)

P.S. best practice is to not interact with old tweets, so pls don't go on a retweet spree

#this has the exact limit of photos you can put in one post lmao #I spent way too much time on this so I hope u enjoy my investigative skills <3 #dan and phil #dan howell #phil lester #daniel howell #amazingphil #d&p #wordvom.txt #phan #<- lol #idk the last time I used that tag #philslion

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writingstothevoid · 2 years

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Twilight but it’s gay and they’re in their 20s (title bending): Chapter One

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Rating: T

Relationships: Logan/Virgil/Roman, Logan & Patton

AUs: genderbent (lesbians), human au, vampires and werewolves; Vampire!Virigl, Werewolf!Roman

CW: spiders, food, arguing

Ao3 Link:

Summary: Logan Berry, a graduate student working to get her doctorate in biology, is forced by her mentor Janus Sanders to go on vacation for the summer under the guise of getting to practice her trade before the school year begins again. Janus gets her a place at an old friend's -- Patty Enache's -- home in Romania and the trip goes wonderfully at first. The people are nice, especially Patty who immediately takes Logan in as her own, but there's something about the woods surrounding the town that seems to be keeping everyone on edge. Ever-stubborn, Logan is determined to explore the woods and document everything about them, but when she finds an old manor within its depths, she learns that there's something much bigger going on than small town superstition.

Logan watched as the taxi took off in the direction of the distant mountains, leaving her standing in the middle of the small village with one bag slung over her shoulder, another on her back, and one more resting on the ground by her feet. She sat for a moment, simply taking in her surroundings and allowing herself to breathe for the first time in the last 48 hours before planning her next move. Between 10 hour flights, once-a-day buses, long train rides, and paranoia-inducing taxis, Logan felt completely exhausted. Still, it could not be understated how beautiful the land around her was, with its towering mountains, lush forests, and (her personal favorite thing) low levels of human activity. Janus knew her too well and had reassured her that there wouldn’t be many other people there, just her and the environment.

Logan abruptly realized that she had been standing in that same spot for far longer than would be considered normal and started towards the address Janus had given her. People stared as she walked, but she supposed it was only normal -- she was a stranger in a relatively small town and she knew from bitter experience that anything out of the ordinary was subject to curiosity and suspicion in such places. She held her head high, briefly making eye contact before looking around for the building she would be spending the next few months in.

After a bit of searching, she found it: Brutăria Mamei. With a deep breath, Logan opened the door and headed inside. “Hello?” she called out.

Bumping and clanging sounded from where she supposed the kitchen was before a short, plump, middle aged woman stuck her head out of the door across from Logan. She had blonde hair sprinkled with gray, light blue eyes, and the laugh lines of someone who never stopped smiling.

“Oh! Yes, yes hello, dear,” the woman said, hurrying behind her counter. “How can I help you?”

“I, uh,” Logan replied, shaking her head to try and regain her senses. She was a graduate student for god’s sake! She could handle a little exhaustion. “I was told that I would be staying here for the next few months. By Janus?”

The woman visibly brightened even more at the name, “Oh, Janus! So you must be Logan. It’s so nice to meet you, dear. Janus has told me so much about you.” She came out from behind the corner and approached Logan who put her hand out to shake. Instead, the older woman hugged her, leaving her floundering as she tried to figure out the appropriate response to such an action. It didn’t help that she found herself flushing slightly at the thought of her mentor’s praise. Janus Sanders was a tall, ethereal woman with dark skin, black-and-gray dreads, and amber eyes that pierced your soul. Combine that with her wit, charm, and impeccable fashion sense…well she couldn’t be blamed for having a small crush on the older woman. It had been particularly bad at the start, but now that she knew Janus more their relationship had become one of familiarity and shared intellect only occasionally filled with mild idol admiration.

Logan snapped back to reality (she must really be tired to be going on such tirades) and focused on the woman in front of her who had finally released her from the hug.

“Call me Patty, dear. Patty Enache,” the older woman held Logan’s hand in a gentle grip.

“Logan Berry,” she responded, reaching up to squeeze Patty’s hands with her own. “Though, I guess you already know that,” Logan added sheepishly.

Patty smiled kindly at her, “You must be exhausted. Here, let me get you settled in.”

And with that, she swiftly locked the front door and led Logan through the kitchen door to a separate part of the building where a flight of stairs took them to a second story. The upstairs consisted of a small landing containing nothing but an old rug, lamp, and three doors, two in front of the women and one off to the side. Patty opened one of the front two, allowing Logan to look into the room and see its furnishings -- a full-sized bed, wooden dresser, and small vanity. All and all, it was a quaint, comfy looking room, though Logan knew she would take just about anything right now so long as she could sleep.

“I get up early to make breakfast every morning, but I understand if you need to sleep in this time. Still, you’re always welcome to come down at any time. The store typically runs from a little after dawn until evening. Side door leads to the restroom. Please make yourself at home and come get me if you need anything,” and with that, the kindly woman disappeared back down the stairs.

Logan stared for a moment longer before finally entering the room and gently shutting the door behind her. With a carelessness uncharacteristic of her, she allowed her bags to fall to the floor with a thunk and barely slipped off her shoes and glasses before climbing into bed. A voice nagged in her brain telling her to change and brush her teeth before she began sleeping but the pure bliss of laying down on a soft bed weighed her down and kept her from doing anything at all. Logan’s thoughts idled as she drifted off to sleep in record time.

It was daylight when Logan next awoke. She rose sluggishly, trying to get her brain to start up after running on empty for so long. Her thoughts began to consolidate and she began the process of coming up with a mental to-do list as she did every morning to keep track of the things she needed to do throughout the day. First on the list: figure out what time it was. Logan picked her glasses up from the side table where she haphazardly left them the night before and, after a bit of searching, dug her phone out of her crumpled jacket pocket, revealing the time to be about ten in the morning. The screen was noticeably free from any notifications which Logan pointedly ignored in favor of finding something to satiate her newly discovered hunger.

As she stumbled towards the stairs, she continued to develop her list. Breakfast and shower were certainly up there, followed by unpacking. Then she figured she ought to check out the town properly, considering it would be her place of residence for the next three months. Only the sound of Patty’s voice knocked Logan out of her thoughts and forced her to realize that she had made it into the kitchen downstairs. The aforementioned woman was standing in a pastel green apron, obviously in the middle of some bakery chore and awaiting some sort of response.

“Pardon?” Logan asked, embarrassed that she had gotten so lost in thought. Nevermind the fact that it happened frequently, she knew that social rules dictated that she keep her focus on the here-and-now and she didn’t want to make a bad first impression with this woman.

Patty smiled (she did that often, didn’t she?) and repeated herself in a way that lacked the annoyance Logan was so accustomed to, “I was just asking if you were hungry, dear,”

“Oh,” She was getting frustratingly flustered at a simple kindness, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Now, now, dear,” Patty ushered Logan towards a small room adjacent to the main kitchen which featured a small dining table decorated with pretty white lace, several old-fashioned lamps, and a similar shade of pale green wallpaper to the baker’s apron. “None of those formalities. There’s no need for them here.”

“Yes… Patty,” Logan said, still observing the area. It went back farther than she thought, opening up to a sitting room with a similar flowery aesthetic to the dining room. With a quick glance at Patty, she finally sat down in the chair that would allow her to keep her back to the wall while still observing both the kitchen and living area. She wasn’t paranoid, necessarily, she just liked to know what was going on at all times. In order to maintain the proper social order, she needed to know who was around her at any given moment, so this was the most logical spot for that goal.

Patty came out a few minutes later carrying a plate full of pastries, bacon, and eggs and a glass of water. “I wasn’t certain what you’d like, so I just grabbed a bit of everything. Wait!” She abruptly stopped. “Do you have any allergies? Dietary preferences? Drat, I forgot to ask beforehand,”

Before the baker could continue to spiral, Logan stepped in, “Don’t worry. This is perfectly fine, I promise. More than I was expecting, if I’m being honest.”

The worry left Patty’s face, making Logan feel a relief she didn’t expect, and that smile of hers reappeared once more, “Nonsense, dear. I may have been in too much of a rush to remember to ask first, but I did know beforehand that I wanted to make sure you have a good time here.” She set the full plate in front of the student. “And that includes a good breakfast.”

Logan looked down at the plate and then up at Patty once more before manifesting a polite smile and picking up her fork to eat. The baker grinned brightly and then hurried back to the kitchen, leaving Logan on her lonesome. That was just fine by her, though. She liked to be alone, a fact that many people didn’t seem to fully understand. She wasn’t just okay being alone, like most people assumed, but instead preferred it and would often reject offers to hang out in any capacity in favor of time spent alone. It had lost her a good number of potential friends, but for as much as she’s given up for the sake of fitting in, her time never was one of them.

Almost absently, Logan began to sort through the food. Everything looked good and she desperately wanted to not upset Patty, but she als couldn’t bring herself to eat certain things. Bacon, for example, was one of her least favorites in the breakfast food department due to its texture and high fat concentration. Still, she took a small bite to prove that she appreciated the older woman’s efforts. The eggs were a pleasant scrambled that she knew would be perfectly adequate, so she instead moved onto the pastries. With her fork, she gently opened up the ones that had some sort of fruity filling, digging out any pieces of fruit she found within. With that complete, she finally and efficiently went about the rest of breakfast without issue.

With the same hesitation she always used in unfamiliar situations, Logan popped her head into the kitchen to see if Patty had any guidance for her. Not finding the kindly baker, she decided to take matters into her own hands and quickly washed her dishes before heading to her room. One shower and unpacking session later, Logan was back in the kitchen in a clean shirt and jeans, her dark hair tied back in a ponytail and glasses fixed firmly to her face. A cursory look into the store front revealed Patty managing the counter while a couple customers sat scattered at various tables. The older woman looked up at the sound of the opened door and sent her a smile.

The student glanced over at the customers and found them to be looking back at her. She knew being new in a small town was subject for attention but still she found herself growing a bit uncomfortable. With a shake of the head, she forced her attention back to Patty, “I was just going to go check out the town if that’s all right.”

“Of course. Let me just put my number in your phone so you can let me contact me if you need to.” Once that was over with, Patty gave Logan one last hug that left her floundering before finally allowing her to head out.

The town was busier during the day than at whatever godforsaken time she first arrived. People walked around, looking into the various buildings and chatting with one another while children chased each other through the streets, dressed in loose summer clothing decorated with dirt and grass stains from time well spent outdoors. People certainly still stared at Logan, but the buzzing environment distracted many and forced the rest to at least remember their manners.

Patty’s bakery sat on the edge of the square and was one of many buildings lining the streets. Everything from clothing boutiques to restaurants to grocery stores buzzed with life as people went about their business. At the center of the square was a park-like area where the greenery was allowed to run as wild as the children who played in it. In the distance, towering mountains covered in forestry surrounded the small town, giving a comforting, if isolated, feeling to the whole place.

Logan spent the rest of her day exploring the town. If there was one thing she hated most it was not knowing things followed closely by having to ask for help, and that included asking for directions so she worked to make sure she knew her way around, if not with ease then at least with certainty. By nightfall, she felt satisfied that she had gotten her bearings and was happy to return to Patty’s for dinner. She didn’t necessarily have to -- she made sure to exchange her currency in one of the cities she traveled through to get there -- but as Patty was her only connection to this place she felt most comfortable in the baker’s home than any restaurant. It also helped that the woman had such a motherly persona, one that Logan would be hard-pressed to admit she felt drawn to.

The next few days continued in similar fashion and a rhythm slowly developed between the two women. Patty would wake up exceptionally early to prepare for the morning rush. Logan would follow soon after (she always was an early riser) and would offer to help out which would be met first by polite denial followed by gracious acceptance. The two would work together, Logan doing whatever chores she could while Patty worked her magic on each pastry and attempted to teach the scholar her ways with mitigating levels of success. Then Logan would eat breakfast by herself before heading off to explore the town. Once she felt comfortable with the layout, she moved on to the actual purpose of her trip: studying.

See, when Janus first suggested a trip to Logan, the young woman had denied her vehemently. She was in the final stretch towards getting her doctorate and she couldn’t just stop everything to take a vacation. At that, Janus had pursed her lips the way she always did when she had to solve a particularly challenging puzzle and reminded her that she could always study abroad. A back and forth that lasted for several weeks insured, but Janus was nothing if not relentless and before long Logan had caved on the condition that she would continue studying during her stay. Janus agreed, and here they were.

So it wasn’t much of a surprise when Logan left particularly early one morning, a small drawstring bag filled with journaling materials, snacks, and precautionary measures fit on her back and headed for the woods that surrounded the town. She hadn’t gotten the chance to explore that area yet, in large part because all the locals seemed to avoid it like the plague. Though they were all nice enough, there was an air of superstition that hung over the town that even Logan picked up on. Any mention of the woods would be met with avoidance at best and hostility at worst and it didn’t escape her notice how few people ever seemed to go outside at night. She was sure there was more to it, if she were ever so inclined to look, but she never was great at picking up cues and though she was sure they had good reasons for their beliefs there was no way she was spending her entire summer away from nature. Her major was biology, afterall, and the call to explore and document had dominated her since she was a child.

The few people she passed on her way to the forest’s edge were friendly at first, but as it became clearer where she was going they began to watch her warily, not bothering with any sort of greeting. Logan ignored it all. With the determination of someone who refused to listen to anything as trivial as warnings, she marched across one last clearing until she stood before the looming trees.

The forest was even more beautiful up close. The trees varied greatly, from all kinds of tall coniferous to the wide reaching oak and beech. They cast such a canopy over the ground that even in the daylight the forest was heavily shaded. Beautiful flowering plants could be seen within the darkness, doting the green with purple, white, and yellow. Excitedly, Logan pulled a pen and notebook out from her bag and began to jot down notes on everything she could see. Once satisfied with her preliminary writings, she looked into the forest, trying to decide the best route to travel. The nature of the town’s superstitions meant that very few people traveled into the woods, giving Logan no obvious path to go down. Rather than risk getting lost within its depths or damaging a potentially delicate ecosystem, she decided to walk the edge, observing the border between wilderness and civilization and looking out for any sort of path along the way.

By the end of the day, Logan had made it through her supply of snacks and water as well as a significant portion of the wood’s edge. She had even marked down various spots on a map where she could potentially enter, setting herself up for the next few days. It was all-in-all a successful day, despite the constant feeling of being watched by curious and worried townspeople (and sometimes, not townspeople at all. But Logan knew that these woods were filled with creatures of all sorts and even if she couldn’t see them, it was only natural that they would be watching her).

Logan arrived back at the bakery well into the evening, the closest thing to a genuine smile on her face as she walked through the empty storefront towards the back. A true smile began to appear for just a moment as she spotted Patty sitting at the dining room table, but the stricken look on the older woman’s face soured her joy instantly.

“Patty?” Logan called out, concerned for the motherly figure.

“Why were you near the woods, Logan?” Patty asked, her voice unusually quiet and flat. Logan stopped dead in her tracks, defenses rising for the first time around the baker since she arrived.

“I was… exploring?” Logan offered, her thoughts getting increasingly frantic as she attempted to explain herself. “I am studying to be a biologist and though you’ve made this trip incredibly comfortable and pleasant, my original goal was to get some work done for my doctorate. This place has some incredible old forests and--”

“Logan,” Patty said firmly, cutting off the scholar. At the panicked look on Logan’s face, the older woman sighed and softened, “Kiddo, I know you want to explore. But this place…it can be dangerous. You’re completely safe here in town, but I don’t want you exploring those woods any more.”

Despite her best efforts to keep calm, Logan felt her indignation flare. She hated being told what to do, especially in a way that could come across as condescending. She knew Patty was coming from a good place and was only trying to help her, but still her anger grew.

“I know how to take care of myself,” she began. “I have been doing this for a while, you know. I’m not just some tourist getting myself into trouble.”

“I know you know, dear. Anywhere else I wouldn’t be worried. But that isn’t the problem here.”

“Then what is?” Logan snapped. Patty jerked up, finally making eye contact with the younger woman. Her mouth opened but nothing came out and after a moment she looked away once more.

“Look,” Logan tried desperately to control the frustration seeping into her words, “I appreciate you trying to help me. You’ve been very kind to me, giving me lodging and food and I couldn’t be more grateful. But if you can’t even give me one good reason for why I should give up all of my plans for this summer, possibly jeopardizing my future, then I see no reason to follow your advice.” She softened, “I promise I’ll be careful. I can take care of myself.”

Patty continued to stare at the floor, her hand covering her mouth. After a few moments of nothing from her, Logan huffed out a breath and headed up to her room where she collapsed onto the bed, emotions running high. She didn’t want to argue with Patty. As much as she’d loathe to admit it, the woman had quickly become almost like a mother to her. But she never did well with people trying to control her, especially without proper explanation. And like hell was she giving this up now, town superstition be damned.

The next few days were incredibly awkward between both women. Though Patty was back to being friendly towards Logan, it was clear that a wedge had formed between them. For her part, Logan left early each morning to continue her research and came back late in the evening to ensure that she spent as little time with the baker as possible. But despite her indignation, she still had yet to actually go into the woods, opting to stay on the edge instead, reasoning that the choice was the most logical one and definitely had nothing to do with Patty’s disapproval.

A week into this new normal, Logan came home to the eerily familiar sight of Patty sitting at the dining room table, her head in her hands. Despite herself, Logan felt a pang of worry and guilt and found herself unable to leave the older woman there.

“Patty?” The baker looked up at her.

“Oh, Logan,” she responded, rubbing her eyes.

“Are you all right?” Logan pressed, which Patty waved off.

“Yes, I… I’m alright. I’m just…” she trailed off, a look of guilt appearing on her face that raised such alarm within Logan that she rushed over to the woman, who held onto her. “I’m sorry, Logan. I’m just so worried about you. You aren’t familiar with this place, these people, and I just wanted to protect you.”

Logan pursed her lips, but let Patty continue, “You are an incredibly strong young woman and I should have treated you like it.” She hesitated. “I still strongly discourage you from going any deeper into those woods. There are dangers there, ones you couldn’t even imagine. That being said, I know I cannot stop you and I don’t want your time here to be spent in turmoil.”

Logan considered her words. “Thank you, Patty. I’m sorry as well. I let my temper get the better of me and reacted a bit harshly.” She pulled back a bit, letting a firmness appear in her voice, “But I came here for a reason. Part of it may have been to get away, but the main reason was to explore. To learn on my own terms. These woods are fascinating and I cannot simply quit doing what I love.”

The older woman bowed her head, “I thought you might say that. Very well, then. Just…if I ever ask you to do anything for your own safety, I beg you, please listen to me.” sensing the younger woman’s protests, she pressed on, “I won’t try to force you to stay away from the woods. But if I ask you to do something else, like take something perhaps a bit odd with you, please listen.. I want to keep you safe, however I can.”

The conversation ended much like their last one, with both women staring at one another. This time, however, Logan conceded, sighing, “All right, Patty. I will.”

For the first time in a week, the baker smiled and pulled Logan into a hug, “Thank you, dear.” The scholar fumbled for just a moment, but she was slowly getting used to Patty’s mannerisms and hesitantly hugged her back. “Of course, Patty.”

The next day Logan awoke early, even earlier than Patty for once. Though she tried to go back to sleep, her thoughts were soon consumed by those woods. Now that the issue with Patty was settled (sort of), it was all she could think about and she figured it was about time she gave into her urges. Quietly, so as not to wake up the baker, Logan gathered together a mix of scholarly and practical supplies before getting dressed in a t-shirt, jeans, tennis shoes, and ballcap. After heading downstairs, she also gathered a couple water bottles, snacks, and a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich for lunch. Satisfied with her work, she grabbed some leftovers from the day before for breakfast and nearly walked out then and there but memories of the conversation from last night stopped her. Patty had explicitly asked her to allow the baker to give her some advice, and while she wouldn’t technically be breaking that promise to leave early, she had just gotten back on good terms with the older woman and didn’t want to ruin that.

With a sigh, Logan sat down and ate her breakfast, knowing she wouldn’t have to wait long for the baker to wake up. Sure enough, the baker was downstairs before she finished eating and was clearly surprised at the reversal of events. The surprise didn’t last long, however; a glance at the scholar’s outfit and bag told her everything she needed to know about the situation. Her face grew tense and she let out a sigh before making her way into the kitchen, not a word said. Confused and a little anxious, Logan watched as she dug through various drawers before finally approaching the scholar and holding the items out towards Logan.

“Here,” was all the older woman said as she passed over a silver cross necklace, a ziplock full of garlic, and a few handfuls of rosemary. Logan looked up at her, even more confused and certainly unimpressed. “You promised,” Patty reminded her sternly.

A small fire flared inside of Logan, but she immediately squashed it, not wanting to ruin their recently mended relationship over something as menial (if strange) as a necklace and some weird plants. She quickly shoved the bag of garlic into a pocket on her bag that had nothing else in it (after making sure the baggie was completely shut, of course), threw the necklace on over her outfit, and placed the rosemary in a pocket. “There. Happy?”

The older woman eyed her critically before letting out a satisfied ‘hmp’ and turning back to work on that morning’s meal. Logan joined her moments later, washing her dishes at the sink without a word. The silence continued as the scholar grabbed her bag and began to head towards the door before hesitating right before leaving. She turned around and found Patty staring right back at her. The mess of emotions on the older woman’s face hurt her to look at and she lurched forward, meeting Patty in a hug. The baker held her tightly and the thought that this woman who had barely known her for more than a couple weeks seemed to care about Logan more than anyone she had ever met (except perhaps Janus) made her tear up just a little. Finally, Patty pulled back and looked at the younger woman’s face. “Be careful, Logan.”

For once, the old fire didn’t flare up, and Logan took the baker’s hands into her own, “I will.” She gave Patty a smile that was quickly returned. The two looked at one another as though they were committing the other to memory.

An alarm went off at the stove, calling Patty back to her duties. The older woman squeezed her hand one last time and left her standing by the door, humming as she went. Logan stood a moment longer, just watching, and then went silently out the door as the gentle song waved her bye.

During her preliminary research, she had discovered an abandoned path hidden by deep brush, overgrown grass, and imposing fencing and, being the true scientist she was, she refused to let something as small as “gentle suggestions” keep her from her goals. Of all the paths, this one was the most defined and would be her best bet to staying safe and not losing her way.

Dawn crept over the horizon as Logan reached the fence, illuminating her path just barely. With one last glance at the village behind her, she hopped the fence and pushed past the shrubbery, revealing a faded dirt path that disappeared into the trees. From here, the beauty and colors that Logan could see from the treeline intensified, drawing her further into the forest’s depths.

Without so much as a second thought, she started down the path, stopping frequently to record her surroundings. The forest was strangely quiet, almost entirely devoid of the animal noises that would normally fill such gaps. The oddities didn’t stop there. Though signs of most animals remained elusive, Logan noted that the woods held an unusually high spider population whose webs seemed to coat every other tree. The path was also wellkept despite being (supposedly) out of use for many, many years, as though someone had been using it regularly.

The biggest oddity of all, however, she wouldn’t discover until the early afternoon. After a quick lunch break and rest, Logan had opted to follow the path just a little further before heading back to the village. She had spent much of her time documenting, afterall, and would easily be able to make it back before nightfall so long as she didn’t daddle for too long. As she stopped to observe another type of spider hanging in a nearby tree, something unnatural caught her eye – brick. Curious, she left the creature to its duties and followed the path straight towards the misplaced material.

She passed through an opening in the trees and found a clearing where an old manor sat ominously in the center. The brick Logan had first spotted belonged to the broken-down walls and wrought iron fence surrounding a small courtyard area where a dead tree stood tall. Beyond that, the dark, boarded-up house was as uninviting and ancient as a tomb and just as fascinating.

Without thinking, she took another step forwards, mind reeling at all the possibilities. But as she looked around the abandoned place, her brain began to fight the siren’s call, calling out to her danger, danger. Though she had often been considered reckless, the truth was that her risks were always calculated. The pros and cons were always weighed, the cons always deemed worthwhile. But even she knew that going into an old, decaying building for nothing more than curiosity’s sake was a fool’s errand at best and criminally stupid at worst.

With a last conflicted glance at the home, Logan turned back and began tracing her steps down the pathway. Still, the desire to know, to explore remained, and so she promised herself that she’d bring the place up to the townspeople as soon as she got back. Her curiosity could be saitited from the safety of civilization, where she wasn’t liable to injury or death and help could be reached in a matter of minutes.

Leafy debris crunched underfoot as the spiders watched her exit, too lost in her own thoughts to notice how each one froze as she passed them. How odd, a human daring to approach their lady’s home. It had been a very long time since anyone was foolish or arrogant enough to try, and they couldn’t help but find her…fascinating. Spiders scurried along the forest floor as the human crossed the threshold back to her own kind. Lady Virgil would want to hear about this immediately.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #mentioned:#janus sanders #virgil sanders #vampires #werewolves #platonic logicality #analogince #romantic analogince #spiders cw

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raygirlramblings · 6 months

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I just realised something about Laserhawk Rayman which I've been saying about Rayman for DECADES.

So what is Rayman's defining goal which powers him throughout all his games? It's gonna sound corny, but it's FRIENDSHIP.

And you'll say 'oh that's not uncommon, most videogame protags do stuff for the sake of their friends', but it's kinda more than that.

Rayman LIVES AND BREATHES through the love and support of his friends.

Rayman is a strange little freak guy, one of a kind even amongst his own species*, and instead of being shunned and alone he is held up and supported by his friends and propelled forward by the power of friendship. This is more of a driving force in his life than a romantic interest, a prized possession, or any kind of praise.

(*I still use the logic of Rayman 1 that other limbless beings like Rayman exist but were not created by magic. Hence why Rayman has immortality)

On the surface you have his friendship with Globox as a clear example of his devotion. Despite their differences the two are like brothers and bond through various games in different ways. saving and being saved by Globox is a big part of Rayman 2. Curing Globox of Andre is literally the driving force of Rayman 3.

When Rayman is trapped by the pirates at the start of Rayman 2 he is absolutely distraught, powerless and unable to escape on his own. Without Globox risking his life on the vague chance he'd get put in a cell near Rayman to give him a silver lum, Rayman might never have escaped the Buccaneer. Rayman's friendship with Globox trumped Globox's absolute fear of the pirates.

Rayman's friends are always the ones giving him support and gifts and powers to help him save the day, not in a 'you suck lets hold your hand as you go through the game' way but in a 'we have absolute faith in you, friend, anything we can do to help we will!' way. And in turn Rayman returns that love through his actions and compassion. Rayman is who he is because of the love and acceptance of his friends. Hence why he is always seen relaxing with them, chilling with Globox and Barbara and Murfy and the Teensies.

And it's Rayman's willingness to befriend others and turn the other cheek that betters him overall. Mosquito, Inspector Grub, the Rabbids, they have all been part of his journey despite being antagonistic to him at the start.

When Rayman is separated from his friends, or unable to make new friendships, he kinda falls apart and struggles by himself. He gets lonely, realises how small he is in the world. If he doesn't have a focus to find his friends and help them he is lost.

Which makes perfect sense when you see a version of him in Laserhawk.

Rayman is the most popular mascot in Eden but HE DOESN'T HAVE FRIENDS.

The closest connection he has is to the Counsel who run Eden and even they keep him at arm's length from what we see in the show. They are not his friends, they are his abusive, neglectful bosses that dropped him the minute he stepped out of line, and without them Rayman has NO ONE ELSE in the city he can rely on.

No wonder he's a complete mess even before the show starts. He has no one to confide his fears in, no one who understands his unique perspective. He probably has yes-men and people willing to lie about how great he is, not to mention adoring viewers and a whole fanclub of kids, but even Rayman knows that's fake. They are not his real friends. He's the picture of the lonely celebrity in an ivory tower.

You can see it in Rayman's face when he meets Bullfrog, and Bullfrog VALIDATES his feelings of betrayal and anger against Red and the Counsel. Finally he has someone showing him genuine compassion but also not mollycoddling him. Someone who is honest with him and not freaked out by/judgemental of how he looks. He's scared and angry, but there is a light at the end of the dark tunnel before him.

This and being replaced by Eden is the breaking point that causes Ray to become Ramon and fight back. He now has an end goal, take revenge on the Counsel and save Bullfrog from the electric chair. He has multiple reasons for doing this ranging from his belief in protecting hybrids in general to protecting his image to taking away some of Eden's power at gunpoint...but I also like to think he did it because he put his faith in Bullfrog.

Because as well as being one of the only people in Eden who might have an idea of what's going on behind the veil, he's probably the only person Rayman could consider a friend.

#captain laserhawk #Rayman #Ramon #raygirl's ramblings

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winterarmyy · 1 year

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Plot Twist | Part I

An arranged marriage with mafia!bucky.

Run-through: I just need to get this out of my system. Most of arranged marriage mob/mafia!au I've read has a strong/bratty reader. And a really mean/asshole Bucky. Which is absolutely fine btw but its getting repetitive for me. I wanted to see a reader who's actually soft but fierce when she wants to be. And Bucky who is generally cold and seems to be married to his job but notices small things that the reader do, thus subconsciously started to care about her. They don’t hate each other, nor do they are infatuated. I don’t know if this exist, so I decided write it myself just in case. Enjoy!

Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III* (end) | Extra

Words: 1.1k++

Pairing: beefy mafia!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: just fluffy and wholesome stuff here. Nothing graphic or explicit.

P/S: I like to write in 3rd pov btw. There's a few mentions of y/n sometimes too. Beware of the grammar mistakes, English is not my first language. This might be 2-3 parts type of fic, so tell me what you think so far.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

“He's late.”

The soft clinking sounds of his rings colliding with each other and onto the dresser woke her up from her deep slumber. Though her body remained still, her mind continued to wonder,

“Late. Again.” She thought.

The sound of fabrics rustling about hinted her of what was happening beyond her closed eyes. The shut of the bathroom door confirmed her speculations.

“So, what if he came back home late? Why does it concern you?” She questioned herself.

Only a fool would believe if she said that she didn't care at all about the whereabout and well-being of this man. He is her husband after all.

Six months ago, she stood on the alter with that man. They swore an oath. They sealed the kiss. He was hers and she was his.

James Buchanan Barnes; Bucky was what he preferred to called. He is what every man wants to become, and every woman wants to be with.

An Adonis of a man; impossibly tall, 6'5"; body armored with thick layer of muscles. Bucky is huge, that if he trapped her against the wall, she might just see the resemblance of him to a grizzly bear. His dark hair flowed just above his shoulder and his steel blue eyes were as cold as his personality.

Though she wouldn't compare him to a frozen blizzard during the winter, he was more like the first day of snow, when the white flakes started to fall.

Cold enough to make you shiver and warm enough to lure you out but most importantly, obscenely beautiful.

However, of course, the main reason of the marriage set up by her father was not because of how beautiful he is, but to fulfil his hunger for power. As if the territories that their family has wasn't enough, her father arranged this union to extend his reign.

Y/N protested at first but knew better than to fight against her father. Being raised in such family, at a very young age she learned to think always ahead; pass the emotions and intuitions. What's the rational and logical way to solve a problem.

Took her a week to wrap her head around the matter, research about Barnes and go through the agreement between her father and her then husband to be. Barnes had listed some main demands regarding the union and although most of them were about their business, but one particular demand had caught her attention.

“After marriage, the couple must be faithful to one another. Any romantic/sexual relationships prior must be severed/resolved immediately. Failed to do so will result to termination of the contract.”

“Hmm. Interesting.” She thought.

Not that she was in any relationship at the time, and all the research result to possibly positive outcome. So, in the end, she complied.

Which then explained why she was sleeping in Bucky's bed six months later.

“I know you're awake.” Bucky's gravel voice startled her internal thoughts. She could feel the indentation of the mattress on his side of the bed, the fresh and clean scent wafting from him. She nearly purred from a sniff of it.

She slowly opened her eyes as if she was trying to peep and god what a sight to see after a restless sleep; Bucky's idea of pajamas was basic pants and nothing above and Y/N didn’t know what to feel about that. Does she hate it? Absolutely not. Does she like it? Well, he is easy on the eye indeed.

The room was dimly lit, but she could see his slightly damp hair; it looked longer than it is dry. Her eyes followed the outline of his body leaning against the bed. The soft light reflected on his metal arm particularly follows the gold lines decorating the dark surface.

She often had intrusive thoughts of tracing the lines; what would it feel like against her fingertips. Does he feel anything? Is it cold? Will it feel good?

“You do know that it’s a waste your time to wait for me, right?” He huffed a heavy breath. She could hear the fatigue in his sigh.

And how does Bucky know that she waited for him before admitting her defeat to the drowsiness? Somehow, Bucky always managed to know things, to the littlest matter, even when he’s million miles across the world.

Just like when she found a copy of Pride and Prejudice on the bed a few months ago. The day before she received it, her copy was drenched in coffee; a young woman bumped into her in front of the café she often visit. He was in Russia that time. “Was it Clint? Did he tell Bucky?” she wondered.

“Whoever said I was waiting for you?” She scoffed, yet if the room was well lit enough, Bucky would’ve seen how playful her expression was.

He hummed a deep voice, “Hmm.” there’s a hint of doubt in his tone.

Y/N quickly follow her previous sentence, “I was simply enjoying my reading, that I lost track of time.” She shifted to face him and tucked herself further into the blanket, hiding the lower half of her face as she looked up at him. She wondered if he could tell that she was smiling just from her eyes.

Bucky’s gaze remained still on her, as if he was trying to reach into her soul, before he leaned closer to peek on the book on the table. Pride and Prejudice written on it.

He chuckled, which was rare. At the least the real ones are.

Of course, she had seen him smile and laugh countless of time. Especially during those gala they often attend. But those were just another set of armor he wore on a daily basis.

Bucky tried to bite back a smile, sinking his teeth into his lower lip, “Lost track of time, huh?” Yet, somehow Y/N can hear the smile in his tone.

“A good read?” he asked as if he did not know why his wife brought up about the book. She never said anything about the gift; not a thank you or a complaint.

She simply cherish it in her own way. He heard from Clint that she rearranged her whole bookshelf just to make space for the book he gave her. Maybe this was her way of saying thank you.

He had been giving her books every week, since.

She pulled the blanket away from her face, lips curled into a genuine smile, “Always.”

Bucky preened to her reply before suddenly, “Okay, enough chit chat. It’s late.” he said almost monotone sounded, as he made himself comfortable under the blanket.

Before she could overthink of what went wrong, why the sudden drop of chemistry; that was when she felt his hand roamed to find hers. Bucky brought her palm closer to his face, she could feel his hot breath against her cold skin.

He leaned his lips on her palm, leaving a soft and tender kiss as he mumbled, “Goodnight, doll.”

Rush of red shades bloomed on her cheeks, before caving into the feeling of his stubble on her hand. She gently caresses the side of his cheeks, hoping it soothes him to sleep.

The corners of her lips curved upwards into a smile, "See? Like, the first day of snow."

Part II >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: It’s my first fic so... share your thoughts? ily 🤍

#winterarmyyfics #plottwistfic #mafia!bucky #mob!bucky #bucky barnes au #mafia!bucky x reader #mob!bucky x reader #arranged marriage #husband!bucky #beefy!bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you

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daechvvitas · 1 year

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BOYFRIEND MATERIAL

how i think each member would be like as a boyfriend part one - hyung line edition

WARNINGS: mentions of daddy k ink, praise k ink, brat taming, d*ggystyle, oral, bee dee ess em, degradation

A/N: this is a mixture of sfw/nsfw. thanks for requesting, anon! minors, dni.

NAMJOON

He's the most self conscious about the songs he writes about you. You're his biggest source of inspiration, so that means he wants the lyrics to be perfect. It throws him off kilter because normally, he can write a song in one sitting. Even in an ER room. But when they're about you, it's different. He likes the challenge, though. He feels like it makes him a better writer.

He points out baby shoes and clothing to you every time you guys are at a store. He's still not sure if he wants to have a kid or not but he can't help but still find the items super fucking adorable.

He has a bit of a daddy k ink. He never thought he would been into it but the first time it slipped out of your mouth, his brain went to static and he fucked you harder than he'd ever done before.

He buys you books specifically curated to your taste. Even more, he buys himself a copy too so that he can keep up with what you like.

He talks you through sex. It's full of a lot of praise and encouragement. "Look how good you're taking me" and the sorts. He also loves hearing validation from you that it feels good and he's doing well.

He hates when the two of you argue but he physically cannot stop himself from having the last word. What can I say? The man likes to be right. And sometimes, that stubbornness can lead to huge blow outs. He always makes it up to you, though. After a cool-off period, he'll come back with calmer logic and won't rest until the situation is resolved.

SEOKJIN

He always makes you meals, even when his schedule is insane. If he has to wake up in the wee hours to have it cooked and waiting in the fridge for you, then so be it.

He's a brat tamer. And he's damn good at it. Even if you don't have a particularly submissive nature, he'll have you a whimpering, shaking mess by the end of the night. But those intense nights come with the best aftercare. He'll run you a bath, make you food, and give you a ton of cuddles.

He's insistent on doing things for you, even if it annoys you. Grabbing things from high places, opening doors... You name it. He just likes showing how much he cares about you through action.

He's the type to jokingly rile you up but then end up actually getting really mad, which leads to arguments that could have been avoided.

Unfortunately, he has a bit of the gamer boyfriend syndrome. He does not like being interrupted when he's playing his games. He is a sucker for you, though. So he's willing to free up one of his hands to give you the attention you so desperately want. And no, he doesn't plan on muting his mic so you better keep those moans quiet.

He takes personal offense if he's not your bias or if you rocking any BT21 character that isn't RJ. He'll definitely give you a playful but bombastic side eye until you either change or admit that he is the only option to be your bias.

YOONGI

He wouldn't consider himself a 'romantic' but he shows that he cares through quality time. Even if you're just in the living room watching a show, he'll always quietly sit next to you. Just so you know he's always there.

Alternatively, he loves when you do the same. His genius lab is a sacred place that even his members don't dare to enter unless it's for work. But for you? It's an open door policy. Your presence motivates him more than it distracts him.

Speaking of his studio, the two of you have definitely fucked there. Multiple times. The first time it happened was just sort of a spur of the moment type of things but now, you live to bend over for him, chest pressed against the knobs of his music equipment as he thrusts into you.

He shares his food with you without any complaints or annoyance. If he notices you want a taste of whatever he has, he immediately offers it to you. Not even just a bite, either. He'll give you the whole thing.

He likes taking his time with you. There's a lot of foreplay where the tongue technology comes in hand. He loves to lick you, taste you, make you fall apart with just his mouth.

He prefers dates at home over dates out of the house, but he'll indulge you if you really want a night out. However, his ideal night would be cooking you both dinner, plenty of whiskey, and of course, you.

HOSEOK

Prepare to be touched all the time. Not even just sexually (though we'll get to that). He's just a very touchy feely boyfriend. Cheek kisses, hugs from behind, gripping your thigh. He just wants to feel your skin against his.

He loves sharing tea with you. He remembers every single piece of gossip you tell him, even if he doesn't know the parties involved, and enthusiastically picks whatever side you're on. In return, he always keeps you updated on the drama and insanity of his members' lives. There's really no secrets between you both.

He's a dom, for sure. When it's just the two of you behind closed doors, he feels comfortable enough to strip back the sunshine side and get to play with the darker side of him without judgement. He also finds it so hot that you trust him enough to go on wilder extremes together — tying you up, blindfolding you, spanking you. He craves having control over you.

His favorite form of aftercare is giving you a massage. Typically, he has you folded up like a pretzel as he has his way with you. So making sure your body is taken care of afterwards is of utmost importance. As he massages you, he likes to sweetly shower you with compliments just so you know that any degradation that occurred during sex does not hold true in real life.

He's the first to like your social media posts. Yes, he has notifications on just to make sure he's the first. It could be a selfie or a random picture of the sky and he's the first on the post, showering you with emojis.

Sometimes, he needs personal space. You didn't do anything wrong. But when things get hard at work or overwhelming in his personal life, he has the tendency to retract instead of engage. He doesn't ever have the heart to tell you that but you can tell by the short answers or less enthused interactions. The best thing you can do is give him that space to work through his head.

#namjoon x reader #jin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #bts headcanons #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts as boyfriends #bts scenarios

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bhaalist-inquisition · 16 days

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Listen. I love whatever the fuck Durge and Gort has going on when they both are their most stoic, cold and brutal selves. And logically I know that most pre-tadpole versions of Durge is like. Stone cold stoic killer with the emotions bottled and tossed out to sea. But. I also love Durge being way more "human" than they should be. Specifically when they managed to show emotions. I think it would be very neat if Gortash managed to get Durge to blush at literally any point during their (work and/or romantic) relationship, simply by just being how he always is with Durge and Durge, who as mentioned has the emotional capacity of a cicada, has absolutely 0 idea how to process any of it or hide the emotions. Which ofc just results in "what do you mean im blushing???? I am a pure scion of bhaal- I DO NOT BLUSH- STOP LAUGHING-"

#I have. a scene in my head. but I am not yet confident enough to actually type/write that out #durge #the dark urge #enver gortash #gortash #durgetash #durge x gortash #gortash x durge

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talesofliia · 3 months

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If Byler isn't endgame, then why…

1. Why do they consistently emphasize the unique nature of Will and Mike's friendship within the party? Why highlight their deep bond and illustrate their special connection?

2. Why does Mike gaze at Will with expressions of fondness, affection, admiration, and longing? Not to mention the times he seemingly focuses on Will's lips…

3. Why do they exhibit strange behavior around each other in s4? If they're merely friends, why the nervousness and awkwardness? Their dynamic sharply contrasts with the rest of the party.

4. Why does Mike feel compelled to insist that "they're just friends" to Will if it's an obvious fact? Could it be that Mike senses something more in their relationship?

5. Why are some of their scenes so romantically coded? If you consider it typical best-friend behavior, try swapping Mike with, say, Dustin or Lucas. Byler's scenes, particularly in seasons 2 & 4, are remarkably moving and heart-felt.

6. Why do they share intimate moments they wouldn't with other friends? And say things that sound rather romantic, like "Crazy together," "Hawkins hasn't been the same without you," "I felt like I lost you," "You're the heart"…

7. Why are some of their scenes so intimate that when interrupted by other characters, Will and Mike look as if they were caught doing something "inappropriate"?

8. Why do many of their scenes include "tender, emotional music playing," reminiscent of scenes with other ST couples?

9. Why are Will and Mike consistently paired up and paralleled with other canon couples? And sometimes with gay characters from other films/shows? I recommend checking out this thread as well.

10. Why do Netflix and the ST cast & crew talk about Byler so extensively? Here's a great thread with all their mentions.

11. Why are there numerous queer references surrounding Mike and his relationship with Will? If unclear, you can check out this channel.

12. Why does it seem like Mike and El's romantic relationship is reaching its logical end? If they were intended to be endgame, why did Mike struggle to say he loved her until he felt forced to? And why didn't we get a passionate Mileven scene after his "love confession"?

13. Why was Will present in almost all Mileven scenes in s4? And why was he the one attempting to piece together the broken elements of Mike and El's relationship?

14. Why make Will fall in love with Mike (canonically!) and illustrate the depth of his love for Mike, only to reveal that Will's feelings are unrequited? This character has already endured so much. In the context of a fictional story, it makes sense for such a good character to have a well-deserved happy ending (including being with Mike).

15. And finally: why invest so much in the beginning, highlighting the unique bond between Will and Mike, creating tension with romantic undertones, only to leave it unresolved and without the exploration it seemed to promise?

I want to clarify that I'm not claiming Byler is a definite endgame. I'm fully aware of the unpredictability of ST. However, it seems like a narrative gap if Will and Mike's relationship doesn't find its logical conclusion, which, in my view, is them being romantically together.

#byler #byler tumblr #byler is canon #will byers x mike wheeler #will x mike #will and mike #will byers #mike wheeler #stranger things

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sugar-grigri · 8 months

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Fans are Denji's source of unhappiness

First observation: Fumiko is worse than Barem

I don't like making meaningless comparisons, especially in a work like Chainsaw Man where when the characters aren't nuts, they remain at least morally gray. But this comparison makes sense in the sense that the construction of the chapter refers to it. As usual, let's analyze this by following the chapter's chronology.

This one takes place in a funfair, which is not an insignificant location, but we'll come back to that later. These few lines of dialogue already evoke a very simple idea: Denji isn't so stupid that he wouldn't know he was being manipulated. He knows full well that Fumiko was placed in Yoshida's care not to protect him, but to keep a close eye on him, to prevent him from turning and joining the church.

But she tries to disprove all this, evoking the ecstasy one might feel if one were Chainsaw Man. Being Chainsaw Man is also a source of unhappiness for Denji, who corrects her, and Fumiko adapts to his speech, looking for the first negative point that comes to mind. I think it was a real mistake for Fumiko to mention this point, but once again, she adapts to Denji's reaction. He's completely horrified at having been observed in the bathroom, so she shares his negative view of the situation.

She knows that Denji's main objective is sex-related, so she builds on that by downplaying what she's doing. This is fan behavior; fans are sexually obsessed with Denji in the hope that it will delight him. But Fumiko knows no bounds, either ignoring his consent or stalking him, which logically engages Denji's rejection reaction again.

Once again, he perceives the means of manipulation with the word "fan", and rejects it. So far, these experiences have only been negative and intrusive, and even when they have been positive, whether with Asa romantically or Power platonically, the demon of control, another female figure, has put an end to them.

But instead of stopping the manipulation, Fumiko goes on to confirm Denji's words even as they express pure disgust and rejection. For a character who knows absolutely no limits, she may also override stopping this conservation, but she continues with her family history. If public demon hunters know anything about Denji apart from his natural distrust and need for affection, whether sentimental or physical, it's his sensitivity.

I can't say that the story Fumiko tells is a complete lie, just as I can't say that she's telling the truth. She's a hunter, and anything she mentions could well have ended up in a report, especially given the national authorities' interest in the gun demon. But even if her story is true, the tragic aspect, not for her but for Denji, is even stronger.

Fumiko says she lost her parents because of the gun demon, that CSM didn't hear her cries for help. I'd like to remind you that chapter 79, the chapter in which she refers to Aki's death, is dedicated to the trauma of what it means to be Chainsaw Man.

For the demon from the future, Aki died in the worst possible way, not for him, but for Denji. It's clear that the little boy is forcing himself to continue this snowball fight he no longer wants to play.

At first, he tries to reason with Aki, forcing him to wake up, but when he himself is shot trying to spare one of his only loved ones, people won't let him lose. Chainsaw Man is a weapon of vengeance into which everyone projects their frustrations, the deaths of their loved ones. Denji was forced to be resurrected, to kill Aki not for himself, but for the community. Chainsaw Man never acts for himself. If Aki died in the worst way for Denji, it's because his fans, this community, forced him back to life to remove one of his sources of love.

Denji was traumatized by having to win.

Let's be clear: it wasn't Denji who ignored their calls for help, it was they who ignored his.

Isn't it tragic to criticize Chainsaw Man for not hearing Fumiko's cries for help, or the cries of all those people, when he was instead so compelled by them, like a machine that would be reset to kill a loved one ? Chainsaw Man, on the other hand, hears all the pain in the world. This doesn't mean that Denji is altruistic - he isn't. He's closer to amorality than compassion, but like a permanently dehumanized machine, he must serve others. It has no morals, so how can it live for itself ?

That's why what Fumiko says is so paradoxical: saving Denji means finally allowing him to live for himself, granting him the right not to hear all those voices.

She doesn't mean what she says when she says she's never thought of him as a god, but simply as a child in need of protection. She's only setting up a dissident discourse to that of the church, which idealizes him by banking on the part of identity that is Denji, while the church banks on Chainsaw Man. How can someone who is constantly sexually abusing Denji be competent to protect a boy?

This chapter is about setting limits for children. To have access to the merry-go-round, you have to be over 1m10 tall. These clear limits were never set for Denji, either when he was forced to kill Aki or even when he explores his sexuality.

Having killed his father, been martyred by the mafia and then manipulated by a demon, Denji is now at the heart of other vicious circles. He's condemned to being too young an adult, watching over Nayuta like a parent while children play behind him, not enjoying the funfair with friends, a girlfriend, being cloistered on that bench. The bench represents the stagnation in Denji's life, his questioning, placed on the bench of his own life, his name unknown to his fans, his nature instrumentalized, his age ignored.

Denji needs and must be considered with the age he is, a 17-year-old teenager. Yet even this characteristic, even the fact that he's still a child, is ignored by Fumiko, hence her insistence on the word "senpai".

The treatment of Fumiko is good, I find her to be the very embodiment of Denji's sexual trauma in the sense that she constantly manipulates him to play on his interests, and constantly ignores his own desires, his limits.

Fumiko manipulates, hence the emphasis on her outraged expression when Barem interrupts. If Barem's manipulation is more grotesque, it's not to manipulate Denji but to mock Fumiko's strategy. Although it's incredibly more insidious, the weapon has a clear idea of what she's up to.

And yet, in just a few sentences, it's right on target. It's much closer to Denji's reality than to Fumiko's human perspective. Weapons are seen as weapons, machines at the service of humans, whose immortality is a pain, as it leads them to the trauma of always winning.

Barem uses a cigarette, obviously reminiscent of those smoked by Aki, who had given in to Himeko's advances and needed an outlet for his stress. Aki's misfortune is to have spent his life on revenge, living to avenge the dead, not living for himself. The cigarette was his flaw, the proof of his humanity, the one he threw at Denji to spare him the pain of getting involved in the horrible business of hunting demons.

Whether or not it was there to manipulate Denji by reminding him of his older brother, whether or not it was there by chance, it conveyed the same message: proof of the humanity of a man who lived for others. A man who was executed once again for that same community.

This community, Denji's fan club, is the cause of his deepest misfortune. Chainsaw Man has never been so popular, yet Denji has never been alone. Because he's not allowed to have loved ones. Nayuta, too, is proof of this: she wants her brother for herself, and convinces him that he's loved by others by acting under the cover of Chainsaw Man.

That's why Denji's intervention to stop the attack in progress is much less certain. All these fans, this humanity waiting for Chainsaw Man, are the source of his misfortune. Of course the fan club will call Chainsaw Man. What's less obvious...

Will Denji listen to their cries for help?

#csm spoilers #csm 142 #chainsaw man chapter 142 #chapter 142 #csm #csm part 2 #chainsaw man spoilers #chainsaw man #denji #fumiko #fumiko mifune #barem #nayuta #makima #aki #himeno #my thoughts #analysis

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dreamwritesimagines · 2 months

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The Eye of the Hurricane [8] - Bells

A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Some decisions require late night visits.

Word Count: 2600

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

You didn’t think the rest of the week would be peaceful in any way but even you couldn’t guess just how tense it would be.

“This is insane,” Becca pointed out, crossing her arms and leaning back on her seat. You had decided to meet up for brunch but this time, two other tables in the café were also reserved for your and Becca’s multiple bodyguards who were enjoying their coffees. You stole a look at them, then turned to Becca.

“You’re telling me,” you said. “Four bodyguards everywhere I go. It sounds absurd.”

“And this is Barnes territory!” Becca hissed. “I’ve never ever needed bodyguards in our territory, and all of a sudden...”

“How stressed out is everyone?” you asked and she shook her head with a sigh.

“I could barely see Bucky in these last couple of days,” she said. “My dad said I have nothing to worry about, but you know how he is. It’s kind of condescending, honestly.”

“And your mom?”

“She has this bright idea to send me off to vacation to Zürich until the dust settles here.”

You pulled your brows together. “Will you?”

“No!” she exclaimed. “I’m not leaving any of you here.”

You reached out to squeeze at her hand before grabbing your coffee to take a sip.

“How about you?”

“I think I will get the same speech tonight,” you said. “My dad wants to talk to me.”

“And?”

“I’ll make a counter offer.”

“To?”

“To help out,” you said. “With this situation. Besides, me leaving in a time like this would be basically handing Ian the heir position, and I’m not doing that.”

“Do you think your father will accept that offer though?”

“We’ll see,” you said, trying to ignore the way your stomach did a flip. “I’d be better than Ian than handling this, he has to see that.”

“Bucky says Ian isn’t even carrying a gun anymore,” Becca said with a small laugh and you tilted your head.

“What?”

“Yeah. Apparently he says no one can get to him with his men around him. I guess it’s his way of making them think he trusts them with his life.”

You rolled your eyes. “Right.”

“As much as I hate to admit, it looks like it’s working,” Becca admitted. “He looks pretty confident.”

“Confidence can lead to very huge mistakes,” you said and cleared your throat. “Ugh, let’s talk about something else. How’s everything with Leila?”

“That’s what I wanted to ask you!” Becca said, snapping her fingers. “Do you think it’s still too early to ask her to marry me?”

You blinked a couple of times. “Becca, you two started dating less than a week ago.”

“Yeah but I could still ask her!”

“That’s the hopeless romantic in you speaking.”

“That’s the orgasms speaking actually,” she corrected you, making you grin.

“Either way, neither of those make you think logical.”

“Logical is overrated,” she pointed out. “How about you?”

“Me?”

“You and Ethan?”

“We’re not doing anything,” you said slowly. “I did hire some bodyguards for him though, just in case.”

“Maybe you should take the first step.”

“I’m not going to do that,” you said, shaking your head fervently and she hummed.

“Don’t tell me Bucky’s proposal affected you like that.”

“What? No!” you exclaimed, scrunching up your face. “Why would you say that?”

Becca rolled her eyes.

“Maybe because I’ve known you two my whole life?”

Your frown deepened. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Please,” she said, shooting you a look. “All those glances and so much bickering, it’s obvious something is there—”

“Hate,” you cut her off. “Hate is what’s there.”

Becca gave you a mischievous smile, then sipped her coffee.

“Whatever you say.”

“Bucky and I could never work,” you insisted and Becca hummed.

“What about you and Ethan?”

“Ethan is—” you paused for a moment. “Dating him would be incredibly simple. You know, no ulterior motives, no strategies, nothing complex.”

“That would be so convincing if you could deal with simple more than just a couple of months.”

“You can,” you said and Becca waved a hand in the air.

“I was never promised the heir position,” she said. “It was always Bucky. That’s why I’ve never had that…that burning ambition both of you have. At the end of the day, I do want a simple life Y/N but you’ve never been that type. I don’t think you could actually be happy in a simple relationship.”

You clicked your tongue and leaned back in your chair.

“Well then that complicates things,” you said. “I don’t think I would be happy with someone in the business either.”

“Why not?”

“Are you kidding?” you said with a laugh. “Come on, you know how spouses are treated in the business. You’re just—you’re there as the arm candy, they never let you get involved—”

“That’s the generation before us.”

“Did Bucky put you up to this?” you asked and she huffed out a laugh.

“I didn’t say you should marry my brother,” she pointed out. “I’m just saying maybe you shouldn’t force yourself to like a simple life if you want more than that. Especially if you’re basing your decision on some ancient bullshit rule our families decided to follow.”

You heaved a sigh and took a sip of your coffee.

“Didn’t you just say logical is overrated?” you asked. “Since when are you so logical?”

“I have my moments,” Becca grinned at you. “So. Can we talk about my love life now?”

“Yes but you can’t ask her to marry you.”

“I can ask her to be my fiancée,” Becca stated and you tilted your head.

“That’s…that’s basically the same, Becca.”

Becca rolled her eyes and groaned.

“Fine!” she said. “Can I at least ask her if we should move in together?”

You bit back a smile.

“I’ll give you my permission for that once you two reach the third month.”

“Oh we will,” Becca said with a bright smile. “Great. I’ll send you the house warming party gift list when I get home then.”

You had assumed your father would see you and gave you the same speech Becca got from her parents at home, but apparently he was swamped with work so he had asked you to come to the company. When you got there, your father’s assistant told you he was in the middle of a meeting with Ian and Stark, so you took a seat in the waiting area and stole a look at Ryan who was no doubt waiting for Ian.

“Hi Ryan.”

“Ma’am,” he greeted you, his tone rough but respectful. You smiled at him, crossing your arms.

“Waiting for my cousin?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” you asked and he paused for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders.

“Why are you working for him?” you asked. “He’s an asshole.”

Ryan didn’t even dignify that with an answer as he looked at you, his expression completely calm like he was very used to not giving answers.

“Riveting conversation as always,” you teased him and he bit back a small smile.

“I respect your family, ma’am.”

“I mean you don’t really have to respect Ian though, God knows he does nothing to earn that,” you pointed out. “You know he’s looking forward to starting a war, right?”

“He’s ready to see you,” the assistant said before Ryan could answer you, and you nodded your head, then stood up from the couch.

“Have a nice evening Ryan.”

“You too ma’am,” he said and you followed the assistant to your father’s office.

“Y/N sweetheart, hello,” he said as he walked to you to press a kiss on your cheek. “Sit down, sit down!”

“How was your meeting?” you asked and he waved a hand in the air.

“The usual,” he said. “I have four other meetings after this.”

“Daddy—”

“I will rest when I get home, I promise,” he said and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Right. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“It’s just that I don’t know when they will be finished, and I figured you’d be asleep by the time I got home,” he said. “Y/N listen—”

“Don’t bother giving me that speech, I’m not going anywhere,” you cut him off and he frowned.

“How did you…?”

“Winnifred gave the same speech to Becca. She tried to send her to Zürich, where are you trying to send me?”

“Wherever you want,” your father said. “I was thinking Florence but…”

“Florence is a gorgeous city,” you said. “I’d love to see it sometime, maybe next Christmas.”

“Y/N.”

You gave him a small grin. “Hm?”

“It’s going to be safer for you if you just go away from the city for a while.”

“While you and Ian handle things?”

“While I handle things.”

“But Ian stays?” you insisted and he ran a hand over his face.

“Yes, but—”

“I’m not going,” you said, your voice firm. “Send him away if you want, but I’m not leaving the city when there’s a war coming.”

“I feel like you need to think about this,” your father said and you shook your head.

“I did think about it.”

“Y/N, I will feel much better if I know you’re away from danger, at least until the dust settles here.”

You sat up straighter, your heart pacing in your chest.

“Dad I can help,” you said. “With all this. You know I can.”

A look of realization dawned on his face.

“We’ve talked about this.”

“No we haven’t,” you insisted. “Not really. We keep ignoring it, ignoring the fact that you haven’t named a successor—”

“That’s because I’m not planning on retiring soon.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Others might believe that lie, but I do not.”

Your father heaved a sigh, then pushed himself off of his seat to come closer to you, then leaned back to his desk, crossing his arms.

“And please tell me, what is it that you want to hear from me right now?” he asked you and you shook your head.

“Don’t patronize me,” you said through your teeth. “You know what I’m capable of, you trained me for times like these. You know I’d make a much better heir than Ian—”

“Y/N, enough.”

“Just give me a chance to prove myself,” you insisted. “That’s all I’m asking. You don’t have to make me the head of all operations, but give me a chance to show you I can do this. I’ve already prepared a plan—”

“Let me stop you right there,” he said. “What you’re suggesting is absolutely out of question.”

Your jaw clenched. “Why?”

“We already have a plan.”

“Okay,” you let out an impatient breath. “Then you can tell me the plan and I’ll help.”

“No need, we have everything covered.”

You could feel the anger bubbling in your stomach but you dug your fingernails into your palm, reminding yourself to stay calm.

“Dad,” you said slowly. “You promised me.”

“And I promised your mother!” he snapped, making you stop talking. “I promised your mother that I would keep you safe, and that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

The bridge of your nose along with the back of your eyes started burning, a sure sign that the tears were on their way but you blinked fast a couple of times, biting at your tongue.

“That was your mother’s dying wish,” he said, looking you in the eye. “I’m not going to break my promise to her.”

You swallowed thickly. “Mom would want me to be happy.”

“And you think this life would make you happy?” he asked you. “All this bloodshed, this violence?”

“I was born into bloodshed and violence,” you reminded him. “I’ve spent all my life in it. What, you think you can keep me safe by pushing me out of the picture?”

“It’s much safer than being in the middle of it.”

“For now,” you pointed out. “What about the future? I already know three families that will refuse to do business with Ian.”

Your father shrugged his shoulders. “It’s too early to worry about that. I’m not retiring anytime soon.”

“Dad, he wants to start a war.”

“He will see that war isn’t good for business,” he brushed you off. “He’s just very eager to prove himself right now, that’s all. He’s not going to start a war, don’t worry.”

You gritted your teeth and pursed your lips, glaring at him.

“You got your fire from me, your mother was much calmer,” he said with a small smile. “So I swear to you, I understand your frustration and anger very well. The crown you think you want right now? It’s way too dangerous sweetheart. You’ll see it in time that I’m making the right choice.”

The tears blurred your sight for a moment before you blinked them away and wetted your lips, trying to ignore the lump in your throat.

“You’re not going to name me as your successor, are you?” you rasped out. “Nor will you let me prove myself.”

Your father held your gaze in his for a second, then shook his head.

“No.”

The disappointment hit you so hard that it made your head spin. This wasn’t news to you in any way, you had spent years watching your father treat Ian like his successor but actually hearing it from him was enough to make you want to scream. Anger rushed through you, boiling your blood and you bit your tongue hard enough to hurt, and nodded slowly.

“Okay,” you heard yourself say as you stood up, not even looking him in the eye and he took a deep breath.

“Honey…” he started but you walked out of his office without sparing him a glance, your whole body moving as if it was on autopilot. You got to the elevator and pressed the button, then stepped inside and watched the doors close, sniffling as you wiped at your eyes.

Very well then.

If your father didn’t want to give you power, you were going to take it for yourself.

The address wasn’t exactly familiar to you seeing that you hadn’t been there before, but your driver knew the way. When you walked into the building and gave the reception your name, it took them less than a minute to guide you to the elevator, everyone around you rushing like they were instructed not to make you wait even for a second. When the elevator stopped at the top floor, a bodyguard led you to the door of the penthouse to knock on the door and you heard the footsteps coming closer before the door opened.

It looked like Bucky had dashed through the apartment to put his jeans on when they told him you were there, seeing that he was breathing quite fast. You let yourself run your gaze over his bare muscular torso, the tattoos over his chest catching your attention before your eyes snapped up to his, your heart skipping a beat.

God damn it, you almost forgot just how handsome he was.

“Charm,” he said, offering you a small smile. “Hi.”

“Hey there,” you said as you walked past him into the penthouse before he could invite you inside and he closed the door behind you.

“This is a nice surprise,” he said while you glanced around. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You took a deep breath and turned around to look at him better, your heart beating in your ears.

“Get rid of whoever is in your bedroom,” you said and shot him a sarcastic smile as you crossed your arms. “We need to talk about the wedding.”

Chapter 9

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky x reader #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky #mob bucky barnes x reader #mob bucky x reader #mob boss bucky barnes #mob boss!bucky #mafia!bucky barnes #mafia bucky x reader #mafia bucky barnes #mafia!bucky #mob!bucky #mafia!bucky barnes x reader #mob au

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