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#GOD i have such mixed feelings on the ending!! tbh i have mixed feelings on the season as a whole!!
perenlop · 5 months
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well i finished renegade. i sure was renegading all over the place
#it was alriiiight.... but man i hate to say it but i think i have more complaints than praises#i DID like florins new execution route and i liked talons deal. the entire end of night spell deal was horrifying and i loved it#i love that genre of horror like ''you die twice when you get forgotten after death''#so seeing it play out here was horrifying in a good way. talon and amber's deaths were both so fucking good like goddamn#they were just as heartbreaking as they needed to be. especially ambers like when you go talk to tesla after#but. man i dont think meta games are for me cause ngl i was sorta just like ''aight.'' to most of the meta here#like that was the one thing about talon i didnt care for. i thought ''everyone i know and love is going to die and god is screaming at me''#was a fine enough motivation to go crazy and become a rift. i thought it was compelling and tragic and a good thing to do#with a new character. but then he started going ''in older versions of the game i wasnt even there i was just a prop for the backstory''#and thats sorta when i started tuning out. like i cant explain why but i feel it made the scene more... cheap?#i think just cause personally ive seen that motivation a lot in meta games before and its gotten old to me#tbh the entire meta angle is whats really dragging this down to me. dont get me wrong i love eizen and his scenes#but i dont see why we have to canonize the game's update cycles as like a critical part of the world#and then theres m2 who i have mixed feelings on. cause i love the character type of ''ive been through so much shit idc anymore''#and they end up being kinda goofy and saying inappropriate/out of pocket things while trying not to discuss The Horrors#ive written more than one of those types of characters. but with m2 its like she doesnt know how to turn that off#like spacea and tiempa's deaths being a tera raid parody where they joke about being in a crashing plane and get bashed by extra melias#it just felt like. unfitting. (also a nitpick but goddamn that scene made my head hurt with how much the screen wobbled)#like really? this is the sendoff they get in the fucked up and evil route? and idk i just dont think m2 was all that funny.#she was more grating than anything tbh. and i just feel like her existence and the bad timeline is just Too Much#like there were already so many plotlines and arcs and do we Really need a new-ish character right before the climax#idk. im hoping v14 is more cohesive in this department#for now im taking a much needed break from this game lol
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astrxealis · 1 year
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sometimes i think gbf is not that “wtf” then remember there was a mcdonalds collab aside from the one for red bull. and . bubs :)) and. recently they made a tsuchinoko snake hot af
#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#⋯ ꒰ა gbf ໒꒱ *·˚#good gods i didn't know that the enemy for gw this time around is technically. the tsuchinoko snake#I SKIPPED THE INTRO AT FIRST BCS I THOUGHT IT WAS THE SAME AS ALWAYS BUT APPARENTLY NOT. this is really cool tho#bless h-word people on twt for helping me realize that the pretty enemy was a snake :)#glowing snake#THE GUY THE#THE GREEDY MAN JUST GOT BLASTED this feels like an xiv reference! /j#nozuchi ... wow#tbh i like how gbf does stuff like this like uhh shiva! compared to ff shiva it's closer to its actual origin. which is really cool#THE FUCKING SSHEEE IS KILLING ME what is with this game#and the APRIL FOOLS STUFF !!! even the people on the gbf wiki do hilarious things#haha hildibrand gbf and haurchefant :)) and haurchefant's skill names!!!!!! :)))))#and others like childe from the hit game genblue impantasy or however one would mix genshin and granblue and impact and fantasy together#i'm currently doing gw for gbf and posting on tumblr when i need to sleep soon bcs i wake at 5 for school and it is now 10 pm#and i also am going to apply for committees for our upcoming fair and the forms end in an hour (hashtag multitasker)#also i have xiv open but i have not. played. and also i was doing proseka autoplay just a bit ago#actually bless i think i'm good w gw now! crew rankings good and safe and so are individual rankings ^___^#man i should play during class to not waste ap /hj#good night in advance i rambled a lot here. not really. but YEAH#i'm exhausted wooooo (won't go to sleep yet)
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wonjns · 11 days
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citrus — p.wb
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⌗ pairing. . . park wonbin x male reader
⌗ genre. . . smut,, pwp tbh
⌗ summary. . . your fwb coerces you to drink pineapple juice solely because he loves the way you taste when you do. he's simply a man of science.
⌗ includes. . . switch!wonbin, semi-public, blowjob (rec.), overstimulation, mdni!!
⌗ wc. 1.4k
°A/N. . . requested by 🐈‍⬛✓ "....can I request a dom Wonbin whose obsessed with giving you blowjobs 🫣 I know he's a certified babygirl but something about his aura onstage mixed with those perfect lips of his makes my stomach do PIROUETTES." // HI ANONNN so sorry that this took me FOREVER love,, and that its so short. but i hope u enjoy it & i have more riize content coming very soon!!
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the last thing park wonbin was, is predictable.
its been nearly 6 months since you've started your whole friends-with-benefits-borderline-situationship ordeal, and every time you hook up he still manages to make the butterflies in your stomach go absolutely haywire.
you couldn't quite pinpoint what it was about him that always got you so worked up. truthfully, it could be anything from his passion, versatility in bed, or more obviously his painstakingly good looks — but the one thing that you couldn't deny was your favorite is that he was the absolute king of giving head.
and it was his favorite, too, if the way he'd randomly start stroking you to full hardness throughout the day was anything to go by.
at first, you simply loved the way his soft lips would mold against yours whenever you'd make out. even more so when it was in a frenzied manner in the backseat of his car after a rough exam. that cloud 9 feeling would descend upon you whenever he would draw your tongue into his mouth, sucking on it rhythmically. yet, even that quickly proved to be only a warm up for what he was about to do when he’d begin to unbuckle your pants.
wonbin was a beautiful man, with beautiful eyes and a beautiful soul to match. there were books full of wholesome things you could list that contributed to your attraction towards him. but at the end of the day, you just had to admit that the motherfucker had those tantalizing, plush, pillowy lips that felt even better than they looked when he would wrap them around your needy cock.
he loved how subby it made you - how easily only he could reduce you into a pile of desperation for him with just his mouth alone. one touch from him and desire was radiating off you in waves of shameless pheromones.
he knew how much you loved it, causing the prideful boy to take even more joy in sucking you off.
one day, wonbin even went as far as to start convincing you to add pineapple to your diet, after he was scrolling through tiktok and found out it made you taste better down there. the blonde already thought you were naturally the best thing he’d ever tasted, so he practically had to stifle a moan at just the thought that he could make your orgasms even sweeter.
it felt a bit silly, the way he would start ordering pineapple juice for you at restaurants, but you went along with it regardless for the sake of testing the theory.
and oh boy, did it turn out to be true.
after the fruit had become part of your habitual snack routine, the orgasms wonbin would give you were nothing short of out of this world. you'd noticed his grip on your hips would be even tighter once your precum started seeping on to his tongue, and his throaty moans became even deeper.
you'd feel his eager, pink tongue begin to lap up and down the bottom of your shaft with more intensity, goosebumps rising from every inch of your skin as you were catapulted into your climax.
"oh my god, binnie...." you couldn't help but whimper, fingers curling into his silky golden locks when you saw his eyes roll back in ecstasy.
that first time, the way he licked up the entirety of the mess you made even after spilling down his welcoming throat showed you how serious it was to him.
"fuck," wonbin would groan, making sure to collect any remnants off of your lower stomach before grinning up at you. "we are definitely sticking with that method."
then before you knew it, he quickly became greed personified.
you'd think with how in command he always was, that you'd be the one usually on your knees for him - but he easily made it known that he wanted access to your sweet juices whenever he wanted.
and to wonbin... there was never an inappropriate time.
you'd have to use both hands to count the amount of times that you'd been out in public when he'd lay one of his ridiculously attractive, veiny hands on top of your core just to feel how your member would twitch at his touch.
it didn't matter if you were out shopping. it didn't matter if you were in the library. and it definitely didn't matter that you were now at dinner with the entire friend group.
wonbin didn't hesitate to give you that signature look, the one he knew you couldn't resist, while cupping your quickly growing erection after playing with under the table for the past ten minutes. for good measure, he also gave his plump bottom lip a singular tug between his teeth, just to seal the deal, to make sure he got you in the bathroom with your jeans pooled around your ankles.
you had to admit it was addicting, the way wonbin's smooth hands glided under your shirt to run along your torso while he teasingly licked your bulge through the thin layer of your underwear. your head fell back against the cool tile, unable to voice out your thoughts of how irrational this was.
nothing mattered when wonbin finally tugged your boxers down, removing that final blockade from him and your aching cock, already glistening with leaking arousal.
he shamelessly moaned when he pulled you into his mouth, wantonly sucking on your length as if it were his well earned dessert. in a way, it was — you have no idea what wonbin did in order to earn it while your friends were mindlessly chatting away back at the table, but you couldn't say no to him.
"god, y/n, i've got to be a fucking genius." the potty (albeit talented) mouth groaned. "you taste so good and haven't even cum yet."
you whined at his words, causing him to smirk as you meekly attempted to pull his head back to your cock, silently begging for more. he loved to tease you by randomly stopping just to utter nonsense, knowing the cool air exposed to your private parts after being wet from his mouth made you shiver.
you furrowed your hands in their familiar spot in wonbin's hair as he fiddled about leaving opened mouth kisses along your thighs. he took the time to gently suck the skin just below your belly button to drive you insane before he went back to the real work.
you often wondered how he never complained about his knees hurting, but just as you were about to ask him, he started bobbing his head up and down your length with vigor.
a loud moan managed to escape your lips when he hollowed his cheeks out around you, his warmness sending your body into overdrive.
"c-cumming—" was all you had to mutter before wonbin was pulling back, a smug look on his face as he held his thick tongue out.
"give it to me, pretty boy."
you nearly sobbed, overwhelmed with how sexy he looked - baffled with how dominant his aura could still be even while on his knees for you. he was commanding you while below you, and you’d never thought once about disobeying.
all it took was a quick jerk of your wrist after grabbing hold of your length, your love liquids shooting out and landing right on their target.
it was lewd, and a little embarrassing, watching wonbin swallow all you had to offer, but the way his adams apple bobbed while he lowly hummed to himself in satisfaction nearly sent you into another climax.
"so good, baby." wonbin drawled, keeping eye contact with you as he leaned forward to firmly grab your thighs, catching your relaxing cock back in his mouth.
you whined out feeling wonbin’s tongue properly clean all around your length, the overstimulation making your legs shake erratically.
weak attempts to push his head away were futile, wonbin absolutely having to lap up every inch of your skin he could to truly savor in the moment. it was a lot, but your body craved it. your head feebly swayed back and forth against the wall, and you swore your legs were seconds away from giving out when he finally pulled back.
wonbin pulled your underwear and jeans back up around your waist as he stood, softly kissing your lips to bring you back down to earth. you swore during the moments like this, that you loved him.
"lets go wrap up with the guys, then we can watch a movie at the house. how's that sound?" he questioned, raising a brow while gently pinching your flushed cheeks.
you nodded, before taking a deep breathe to compose yourself.
it was a cute offer, but in reality you were aware that the rest of your night 100% entailed of you chugging a pineapple juice to-go in the car ride home, knowing that wonbin was gonna have you on your back drawing at least two more orgasms out of you before even turning the tv on.
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© 𝐟𝐥𝐰𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐢 — all rights reserved
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fabulouslygaybean · 2 years
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hi y'all. im sorry ive been off tumblr lately but im here. also i just finished the final ep of stranger things 4 and i have heavily mixed feelings
#HI. IM GONNA RAMBLE IN THE TAGS BECAUSE I CAN.#GOD i have such mixed feelings on the ending!! tbh i have mixed feelings on the season as a whole!!#i know everyone absolutely loves s4 and ppl are calling it the best season and i definitely enjoyed it but like...#i dont feel like it even comes close to being the best season? like dont get me wrong. it was cool. i liked most of the characters they -#- introduced. i liked the concept for the story. the visuals were super cool and the writing was solid.#but it just feels like its kind of beating a dead horse y'know? there were so many plotholes and so many unanswered questions#not in like a cliffhanger kind of way. but just in a We Tried Putting Way Too Much Into One Season And It's Paying The Price#also like. apparently they're planning on doing a season 5?? what???#i love the series as much as the next guy but.. that's just too much. there's only so much you can do with a series like this.#idk. i loved the first ep or two of season one but it kind of dropped off for a while until the final few eps#its hard to type out my thoughts but ive been rambling to myself loudly in the living room bc my mom passed out like half an hour ago and -#- i swear my thoughts are more cohesive irl. i have SO much to talk about but there's not enough room to type it out and i feel really -#- stupid for rambling out when no one cares online but it's no different than rambling to someone who's passed tf out so idk#okay. back to my rambling.#for a lot of the characters it just really felt like they like. went backwards with character development at first.#the character had the exact same growth in season 3 except it made sense then. now they're just doing it over again.#mike goes from being an immature and kinda self centered dude to a caring and mature boyfriend for el.#steve pines over nancy but steps back because he's more mature than he was and doesn't wanna ruin her relationship with jonathan#robin faces her insecurities to help her friends#will ambiguously pines over mike and doesn't want things to change but relents because change is inevitable#lucas wants to fit in with the 'cool kids '' more than his friends do but he still chooses his friends over anyone else#dustin is the nerd with a heart of gold who plays a big part in the success of the team#el tries to fit in and lead a normal life but realizes that that's bullshit. also she saves the day at the end as usual.#jonathan is kinda shitty towards the start but tries to make it up by the end and mostly does that. nancy is conflicted bc of steve so -#- jonathan kind of knows and he can't really make it up entirely to her.#nancy is badass who loves jonathan but also kinda loves steve and she's emotionally shut off so she just lets it sit and it bleeds out -#- into her interactions with others. the trauma doesn't help either. she still comes through tho bc she's a loyal friend who deeply cares#it just feels so similar to s3. idk. they've already gone through this development once before so seeing it again just feels stale.#im about to hit the tag limit but i wanna keep going so i might make more posts i think. idk.#we'll see how it works out tonight! im so sorry y'all for the brainrot
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cyberpunkhwx · 10 months
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please make a san version of the Average Stamina? Pretty please but a little longer and After her first squirt San makes her squirt over and over?
Fuck you empty
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Pairing: bf!San x fem!reader
Word count: 1k
Warnings: pure smut, mdni, dom!San, sub!reader, fingering, oral(fem recieves), praises‌, pet names(love, babe, baby, darling), multiple cumming, multiple squirting, overstimulation, pretty quick ending and after care |let me know if i forgot anything|
Average stamina
A/n: atinys are hella kinky tbh. lowkey proofreaded~ pls ignore all the typos etc and let yourself enjoy the filth
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You could say you knew your boyfriend of three years almost better than anyone else. From all he was passionate about, to dancing, singing his heart out and to being the best boyfriend the world has ever seen.
But some stuff takes three years to learn about
......
"Cmon baby give me one more, I know you can do it" He exhaled the words, barely audible. Only aving you coming down from your high wasn't enough for him, like he could even have enough of your pretty little flushed orgasm face.
"Sannie- please! Ahhm" you struggle again his bruising grip holding onto your waist, pinning tou on the mattress of your shared bed. Your hands move down to his bigger ones, not sure if you were holding into him for support or trying to escape the unwanted pleasure he was giving you regardless.
He rubbed his thumb across your soft tummy to comfort, while his other arms was busy mercilessly thrusting three fingers in your already soaking hole.
"Oh? Yes my baby, you can give me more, I know you do. Cmon, make your Sannie proud" He loosened the grip on your waist to let you hold his hand, before holding it tightly again. Not trusting your hips to stay put on its own.
Instead he moved his hand toward your lower belly, low enough for his thumb to now be resting on your puffy clit, rubbing circles on it to help you get closer, as if you werent already bursting wirh the pleasure.
"Feels good nah darling? You feel it too? The burning feeling right here in your little belly?" He pressed the same thumb onto your lower belly making you scream in pain, lifting your legs up uncontrollably, arching your back as far as you could.
Fuck his and his stupid thumb.
That's what you thought. But not exactly what you whimpered.
"Sannie- so close please- more-ah"
"Oh? Thought you wanted me to stop? Make your mind love" he said not hiding the smirk in his voice as moved his hands even faster if it even was possible. You could feel your legs shaking around his body as you kept on arching your back toward him, you body moving itself towards him, as if it knows your desires better.
"Sannie- cumming cumming, it's-cumming-" He moved his hands to a new angle, hitting were you thought he should've have, because the moment he did, you felt the wave of euphoria wash over your soul as if you could feel anything no more. As if your body went numb, you let go of everything except for your lifely grip of his hand.
"God damn my baby, you made a mess" you said taking his fingers out of your now freaking dripoing cunt. After not hearing any answers, he pulled his hand holding you, towards him, making your head face him, looking at his now wet lower body, mixed with his own pre cum, on his now angey red cock.
"You see this love? You did this, all this with thay pretty cunt of yours" he let go of your head, letting you crawl in a corner.
"We are you going babe? Are you gonna be so cruel to this pretty pussy? Look at it, it's yearning for more" He let his index and middle finger wrap themselves around sensetive clit, squizing it the slightest just to get your attention back to him.
"Hmm love? I can feel like beating for more, it starts to drip again, is it because of my words? Or because of my fingers working on you?" He kept his movement, frustratingly slowly.
"Sannie- can't do more-tired" you muttered, hips already shaking at his movement, trying to fine a way to escape.
"Oh baby, that's why I take charge here, yo can't make the right decisions after a few orgasm, tsk" He chuckled before continuing-
"You still have alot to give me my darling, I'm just trying to help you" He re-angled his hands, now having all fingers on your bare pussy, moving harshly to the sides, caging you legs with his much stronger ones.
You cried out his name multiple times before feeling the liquid dripping harshly out of your hole.
"Hmm, not quite there now are we love?" It was a theoretical question. No answer needed. He gave your over sensetive clit and few more rubs, as if he was enjoying this more than he's supposed to be. Maybe he does.
He moved his fingers, lower towards you hole, pushing in two fingers scissors you open, only for more than your cum to drip out.
"oh baby, your body if calling for me, gonna fuck you empty" he muttered to himself. He lifted your hips higher, placing it on a pillow nearby. Having fully acces to your little cunt. He moved his mouth to your clit, sucking in it with his whole mouth, while his fingers begun to play with your walls.
"Cmon baby, squirt it all on my face, let ir go and you'll feel better. I know best" He voice was muffled and so were your ears with the sound of your heart beating louder than ever. Everything felt so great and painful at the same time. You wanted it to stop and never end. Your brain told you that you couldn't take more while your body went limb in san's hold, trusting with your whole being.
"sannie, cumming" that was all you could say before abutting your mouth again, rubbing your cunt towards his handsome face.
"Cum baby, be a good girl" you let you eye lids close as you felt ridiculously empty, as if you were even lighter.
Suddenly you whined in pain as you saw your boyfriend slowly and so gently letting your sore legs now on the soft bit drenched mattress.
"Now that felt better, didn't it? He said winking right after. Running a hand on your body, giving a fast massage before he grabbing his t-shirt from the ground to clean both you and him.
" I think we'll need abit more wash clothes than this one" He joked, still having enough energy to move around with his naked butt.
"But no worries, I got us both"! He said showing you his dimples as if he didn't take the soul out of you.
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Ateez masterlist
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here2bbtstrash · 1 year
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crybaby (explicit)
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genre: all pwp all smut babeyyyyyy
pairing: jungkook x reader
summary: your boyfriend has always mixed his pleasure with pain.
word count: 4.3k
contains: explicit sexual content!!!!!! like that's the whole fic lmao 😵‍💫 established relationship, marathon sex, wrist restraints/bondage, cocky yet eager sub!jungkook 🥵, soft dom!reader but she can be a lil tough, clothed tit play, objectification, she calls him bunny which i think is cute 🥺, spitting, dick riding, unprotected sex, fingers in mouth, humping/grinding, jk has a nipple piercing 🙈, overstimulation/multiple orgasms - for both of them hehe, vibrator use, jungkook (and reader!) pushing himself to his limits bc..... he's jungkook, he cries 🥲, reader finds it hot 👀, a lottttt of sweat & cum lol, cum licking/eating, blowjob, maybe some subspace if you squint, winners never quit 💪, talk of coming dry at the end, jk is kind of a little shit lmaooooo - alright i think that's it 😩
A/N: not me barely managing to get this up before the ticket sales start 😅 happy hunger games to y'all who have codes!!! this fic is a birthday gift to my love, my angel, my cunning linguist @moni-logues 💜 HAPPY (yesterday) BIRTHDAY bb, can't wait to marry you on our first date, it is the joy of my life to build castles in the air with you~
and god bless jk for his lives the past few weeks bc they breathed so much life into this regular degular "sub!jk" fic idea. i'm v obsessed with his personality and the way he always pushes himself "just a little more", whether it's in staying up til 5 am singing karaoke on his couch or giving his absolute all in a workout. just so in love with our bunny tbh, so i hope you enjoy this spicy version of him too!! 🥰
read on AO3!
~*~
You know your boyfriend has always mixed his pleasure with pain.
He stays up late even when he’s exhausted, likes to do his workouts to failure, could spend hours in a tattoo session with the needle pressed to his skin and his bones humming from the buzz. Always holding out for as long as he can, always wanting just a little bit more before he calls it quits, even when it’s hard, even when it hurts. Because he wants to test his limits.
And today, you want to test them, too.
That’s why you text him to meet you in the bedroom, let him find you in nothing but one of his oversized Carhartt shirts, kneeling up on the bed as you affix a pair of purple silk restraints to the headboard.
There’s the soft creak of the mattress from Jungkook’s added weight, and you feel the heat of him as he crowds you from behind, hands dragging up the curve of your hips and taking the hem of your borrowed shirt with it.
“This was the emergency, huh?” The low murmur of his voice is chased by the cool touch of his lip ring as he drags his mouth up the nape of your neck. A blossom of arousal starts to unfurl in your core. “Wanted to use these?”
“Yeah,” you answer, feigning nonchalance as you give the silk a firm tug to test that it holds. Satisfied, you let yourself sink back into Jungkook’s touch, dropping your head against his shoulder and smiling when he leans down to brush his lips over yours. He hums a soft little sound into your mouth.
You cup your hand to the nape of his neck when you pull away to finish the thought. “Thought we could try them on you.”
The words are seemingly all your boyfriend needs to hear; he drops down onto the mattress so hard that he bounces a little. You can’t help but laugh at the way he scrambles to strip out of his sweatshirt, like he’s being timed, then hurriedly centers himself on the pillows, eyes glinting dark with desire.
When you first started talking to Jungkook, everything about him made you expect that he would be the one to call the shots. The good looks, the tattoos and piercings, the muscles— and definitely the motorcycle. But once you’d sat across from him at dinner on your first official date, only to watch him blush and fumble his way through a conversation, you started to suspect that maybe he preferred to follow rather than lead.
That thought was certainly confirmed the next time you saw him out in public: it’d been a full two weeks since your first date, with nothing but radio silence between you since. You were admittedly maybe a little too drunk when you spotted him out with his friends at the same bar you’d been dragged to by yours— drunk enough to have no problem walking right up to him to read him for filth, in front of all of his friends, for ghosting you.
Except he’d just blinked those big brown eyes up at you, mouth dropped open in disbelief, and quietly admitted that he’d been waiting all this time for you to text him.
One of his friends had clapped him on the back, laughing loudly as he corroborated Jungkook’s confession. “He’s been having midnight karaoke pity parties because he never heard from you. Please take this boy out again before his neighbors have him evicted!”
That night told you everything you needed to know about how the dynamics in your relationship would work out. That if you wanted something, there was a very good chance Jungkook wanted it, too.
Which is why it doesn’t surprise you that your boyfriend is already sprawled out half-naked on the bed beneath you, arms folded behind his head in a way that makes his biceps bulge, dangerously attractive.
His mouth pulls into a cocky, flirtatious grin. “Ah, so you wanna use me?”
“I do,” you murmur, straddling your thighs over his torso and leaning up to take the smooth purple silk between your fingers. He offers you one hand before you even have to ask for it, and takes advantage of the other’s last few minutes of freedom to paw at you over your shirt. His tattooed fingers seek out your breast and squeeze, his thumb flicking lazy strokes over your nipple.
You tug the knot of the restraint to tighten it, then look back just as Jungkook closes his lips around the clothed bud of your breast. The rough drag of cotton against your sensitive skin makes you hot all over, your nipple stiffening easily at the rub of his insistent tongue.
“How’s that? Too tight?”
He smirks with your tit still in his mouth, soaking a wet spot into your shirt, teeth scraping gently. “Could be tighter.”
“You are such a show-off,” you huff, more endeared than aggravated as you redo the knot, this time as tight as you can manage. Jungkook pulls against it teasingly, but it does actually seem to hold him in place, and you can feel a dull thud between your legs at the flex of his muscles on full display, the image of him already half-helpless beneath you.
“I’m Jeon Jungkook,” he says, as if in explanation, giving your breast a final playful jiggle before you tug his other hand off to tie it up, too.
“Well, Jeon Jungkook,” you retort with a smirk and a grunt of effort as you lean over him to tug the knot tight. You glance down to find him already using the leverage of his restraints to pull himself up so that he can continue to nuzzle his face into your shirt between your tits, abdominals shaking a little from the effort, undeterred despite the loss of both of his hands.
You take his jaw in your grip and scoot yourself further down his body, dipping in to plant a kiss on his soft lips.
“Are you gonna be a good little toy for me?”
“Uh-huh,” he grunts, and you enjoy the tease of hovering just past where he can reach, watching him strain up toward your mouth to seek another kiss and fall ever so short.
You can feel arousal already dripping from your folds as you slide further down the bed, slipping off from on top of Jungkook to easily rid him of his joggers and briefs. His dick smacks against his stomach, thick and hard; wet, too, at the pretty brown tip. You toss his clothes over the edge of the bed, then strip your own shirt to follow before lowering yourself between his spread legs.
The muscles in Jungkook’s thighs tighten with visible anticipation as you hover above his cock, letting the heat of your breath fan out over him, not unlike the warm afternoon air leaking in through the cracked bedroom window, the first taste of spring. You can hear the wet clicks of Jungkook’s tongue in his mouth.
“Easy, bunny,” you murmur, and then you work up a mouthful of saliva and spit it right onto the head of his dick.
He hisses in a breath at the splatter of it, then gasps a soft little sound when you take him in your hand to slip your fist down the length of him. That’s Jungkook all over; always so eager, always so sensitive.
“What do you think?” you muse, your mouth ticking up as you feel Jungkook’s hips roll into your grasp. “Think it’s ready for me, baby?”
“‘Sready,” he grunts, teeth clenched. “Use it, jagi.”
You waste no time, crawling back up Jungkook’s body to settle your hips over his, flattening your palms against his chest. He’s still squirming, thighs flexing against the bed as he rocks up in a desperate attempt to find the wet heat of your cunt, and you giggle as you work yourself backwards until the head of his dick catches on your entrance.
It’s a bit of a stretch, but you’re wet enough to take it. You bite down on a smug smile as you manage to seat yourself on him hands-free.
“Fuck, love when you do that.” Jungkook’s voice is a low growl, and you slide a hand up the firm definition in his chest and slowly start to rock yourself along his length. His cock fills you up like he was made for it; you can feel every detail of him drag against your ridges, trailing sparks of pleasure as you tilt your hips to drive him right into your sweet spot.
Jungkook’s head kicks back against the pillow as a groan rips through him. There’s a gentle crease in his brow, furrowed in the way that tells you it’s so good: the tight heat of your pussy, the slick stretch of it when you work it on him. You ride him rough, make him take it like a good boy.
Another noise stutters out of Jungkook, chased this time by a huff of breath that it takes you a second to realize is a laugh, the tone caught halfway between shy and horny. You watch the way he squirms, restless against his restraints, like he can’t help himself.
He answers before you can ask. “The way your tits— fuckin’ bounce— fuck, I wanna touch you.”
The feeling sinks in as you watch him writhe beneath you, as you shove your hips back harder to pull more desperate sounds out of him. It’s fun, not letting him have what he wants, makes you drip that much more down the length of him.
“You can’t.”
“I know,” he grunts, wrists tugging uselessly. “It’s hot— that I can’t.”
“It is,” you concede, feigning composure despite the hitch in your breath, the way you’re already close to the edge and pushed that much closer by having Jungkook like this. Tied up, all yours, free to do with as you please.
And still fighting against his fucking restraints.
“Think I could rip these?”
It’s like your body acts faster than your pleasure-driven mind can keep up with: all at once, you’re tracing the pouted curve of Jungkook’s bottom lip, then slipping two fingers past it into the heat of his mouth.
“Shh, bunny,” you murmur. He blinks up at you, glassy-eyed as you pet over his tongue, all lush and wet on your fingertips. “Toys don’t talk.”
You press down more firmly as if for emphasis, enjoying how his soft parts give so easily to your touch, and then Jungkook outright moans around your fingers in his mouth.
The needy little sound makes your pussy pulse hot between your thighs.
“Fuck,” you hiss as you take him to the hilt, changing the stroke of your hips to grind against your toy, used solely to get yourself off now. Humping, really, rubbing your clit over the smooth skin of his abdomen where he’s blooming feverglow, flushed with need. Jungkook’s eyes flicker back in his head at the way your pussy’s taking him, squeezed tight like a vice and gushing wet. Working raw sounds out of him, his jaw gone slack; you can feel the blunt edge of his teeth and his heavy, shaky breath on the palm of your hand.
Your thighs shift to spread wider and the next drag of your clit is at just the right angle that pleasure surges up in you, undeniable, overwhelming. It’s all you can do now to chase your release, to keep rocking yourself into it, Jungkook’s thick cock plugged up inside of you and drool slicking out of his mouth to drip down your wrist.
“Gonna make myself come on my pretty little toy,” you manage to gasp.
Jungkook’s eyes find yours, burning intensity, the way he gets, and then he closes his lips tight around your fingers in his mouth and sucks, as if he’s begging to be used, and it sends you over the edge all at once. Your head tips back as your orgasm kicks through you, white noise pleasure, enough to get lost in.
Hips still rolling, you grind yourself through it, the waves of your climax swelling and receding again, until you finally drop forward against Jungkook’s chest, breathless and buzzing all over.
You let your fingers slip out of his mouth, exhale a laugh as they skip over the defined ridges of his stomach when you wipe your hand dry, taking full advantage of the fact that he’s powerless to stop you.
“Shit, that was hot.”
Jungkook’s voice is hoarse with desire as you shift to find the curve of his neck under your mouth, trailing kisses until your lips brush over the pretty lines of ink just behind his ear. He’s still thick and stiff inside you, with a steady pulse-throb that tells you how badly he needs to come, how worked up he is from being used as your personal hump-toy.
“Yeah,” you echo, paired with a tentative rock of your hips that makes your cunt flutter, overstimulated, tugs a little whine out of Jungkook, too. Your tongue feels thick in your mouth as you breathe against his flushed skin.
“Think I— wanna keep using my toy. Kinda feel like being greedy.”
Jungkook’s cock twitches, shameless, at your admission, again when you flick a thumb over the silver jewelry studded through his nipple. There’s a part of you that wants to keep him like this, his leaking-hard dick filling you up while you purr nasty shit in his ear, just to see if he can come from it.
“Might ride it until I break it.” You scrape your teeth up his neck and he moans. “Gonna take all I can give you, bunny?”
His throat jumps visibly as he swallows, fights to gasp a desperate “uh-huh”. Answers with his body, too, arching up to press himself deeper into you, rubbing the slick, hot tip of his cock into your front wall in just the right way to melt pleasure down your spine. You reward his eager submission with a soft kiss, then lick along the seam of his lips, enjoying the sweet little noises that pour into your mouth when you open him up.
Still intertwined, his tongue stroking over yours, your hand goes fumbling for the nightstand, comes away with the slender cylinder of your vibrator, and switches it on before slipping it down to press between your bodies.
“Oh my god,” Jungkook groans as you nestle the shuddering bullet between your folds and find the bud of your clit. You know he can feel it too from the way his hips jerk beneath you, the steady buzz engulfing his cock as you squeeze your pussy around him, all lush sensitivity from your first orgasm. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”
“You can.” The words are hardly more than a warm exhale from your mouth to his, your lips brushing. “But I’m not gonna stop.”
You don’t give him time to respond or even heave in another gasp of air before your thumb finds the button at the base of your vibrator, clicks it once, then again.
“F— ahh!”
Jungkook’s body jolts like a live wire as he falls apart beneath you. You sit up to take in the whole of him, your free palm slipping to the jut of his hip, fingertips splayed out and pressed heavy to anchor.
Pinned down and helpless, he trembles through the hot rush of his release, dick buried deep and pulsing as it all comes spilling out of him.
“That’s it, baby,” you coo. Your nails scratch lovingly against his skin to coax him out of it— taking such good care of your toy. His breath is punching out of his chest in these ragged, overwhelmed gasps, sweat glittering at his temples while he whimpers through the comedown. So fucking beautiful like this.
The hum of the vibrator rolls through you, strong enough with the change in angle that your eyes drop shut to focus on the feeling.
Jungkook whines when you circle your hips with him still tucked up inside of you— it’s a wrecked little noise, high and sweet, underscored by the thick squelch of his cum starting to leak back down his shaft. Your thighs tense just right from the filthy sound of it, and then it’s all throbbing velvet glow in your core as you clench up and come on his cock again.
“Fuuuuuck, bunny,” you groan up to the ceiling, your head tipped back as it washes over you. “God, yeah.”
You flick the vibrator off when it gets to be too much, let it go rolling down the mattress— the bedroom feels bigger for the silence. Sweat slicks at the back of your knees, warm spring breeze still licking through the window to flutter the sheer-gauze curtains.
You’re fluttering too, all over: the kick of your heartbeat, the breath stuttering out of your lungs. The throb of your cunt, split open and drooling out juice, messy-wet fresh fruit.
The sound of the bedsheets shifting has your lashes flickering open again, and there’s Jungkook. Dark hair fanned out on the pillow, wrists bound, and that look in his eyes. Like he can take a little more. Like he’s waiting for your cue. Like there’s this whole-heart want brimming up inside of him, making his blood run hot.
He’s still hard between your legs.
“Go on then,” you tell him. “Give me another one.”
With a concentrated growl, Jungkook flattens his feet to the bed, grips tighter to his restraints for leverage, and starts to pound up into you. You can feel an overstimulated shudder in the stroke of his hips, how his cockhead twitches, sensitive, as it rubs over your g-spot. But he doesn’t stop; doesn’t even lose his rhythm.
He fucks you like a machine, and it’s all you can do to brace your palms against his chest and tip forward, rocking yourself down to meet him thrust for thrust.
The harsh slap of body on body is almost enough to drown out the rest: your open-mouthed panting, Jungkook’s groan when your nails dig crescent moon slivers into his tan skin, the gravel edge to your words, “Yeah, like that, fuck me just like that.”
It takes you a second to notice, the sound buried beneath it all, but then it floats through— Jungkook’s sucking his breath in through his teeth now, his jaw tight. You can see the jump of a muscle working there.
“Does it hurt, baby?” you gasp, more air than voice.
Jungkook’s head drops back against the pillow, brow pinched from the focus of keeping his pace steady. He’s breathless, too, when he answers: “Feels good.”
“Feels good because it hurts, huh? Is that how you like it?”
A strangled noise tears out of his throat, and he shoves up even harder, like he wants to fuck you into the shape of him. You splay one hand over the column of his throat and watch his pretty brown eyes blink-blink back at you, and then you have to bury your moans in the crook of his neck as you come hard.
The world around you returns a little at a time. First, the tremble of your tired thighs, the dull ache that’s already started to bloom at the bend of your knees. Then, Jungkook’s body curved up against yours, hips still slow-rolling as you exhale in hot, jagged bursts against his skin. There’s the distinct drip of his cum sliding out of you, and all the sticky-wet places where it’s slicked up the swell of your ass.
“Shit,” you laugh when you manage to find the breath for it. “That was crazy.”
Jungkook shifts a little, but doesn’t respond, and then he makes this wet, soft gasp. You realize he’s shaking beneath you.
You sit up so fast the room spins; your tether is Jungkook’s face, cupped lovingly now between your palms.
“Oh, baby.”
A fat teardrop traces a path down his cheek. Another threatens the dark border of his lashes. He can’t wipe them away with his wrists tied up, but you can see him trying to hold back even as a sob shudders through him, his chest heaving.
“You okay, my love?” you murmur, swiping a thumb across his face. He sniffles, nods, hiccups a little. The tip of his nose is flushed pink. “Shoulda told me to stop, if it was too much.”
“It feels good,” he insists, and his voice cracks around the words. “It’s just a lot. But ‘m not— don’t wanna stop.”
“No? You sure?”
Jungkook sucks his lip ring into his mouth as he nods again, sniffs again. That sends a bolt of something through you.
“You’ve been so good to me,” you praise, and you tip your ass back until his softening cock slips out, smeared glossy-white with your shared release. Jungkook’s still wound-up, pulled so tight inside himself that he flinches when you slip a hand down to ease his legs apart, sliding lower on the bed to slot yourself between them.
“Can I take care of you, bun?” The question’s posed sweetly, chased with a flutter of your lashes and kisses dropped down on the flat plane of his abdomen. “I’ll be gentle.”
He whimpers— answers in the way his hips lift up to meet your mouth.
Your hands press flat to Jungkook’s broad thighs, and you can feel the overwhelmed static-shiver beneath your palms, little tremors that jolt through his muscles. Head dipped low, you drag your tongue up his length and it punches a thick sob out of him, hips stirring like he’s trying to crawl up the bed. But you just keep going, pin him down and make him take it, working broad flat stripes over the whole of his shaft, root to tip. Tasting him, salt and slick and your own heady flavor; you lick him clean.
Jungkook comes quietly this time, feet flexing restless on the bed as you tongue it all out of him. You swipe two fingers through the mess on his stomach and suck that up, too.
Humming around the digits in your mouth, you surface from between Jungkook’s legs to take him in: eyes closed, face wet with tears. You can see the rise and fall of his chest as he gasps for air, shaky, coming down from it.
“Alright baby,” you soothe, shifting up to straddle his chest, knees sinking into the sheets. “All done now, just breathe. Gonna untie you.”
Reaching up, you gently tug open the knot on one restraint, then the other, easing Jungkook’s limp arms to the mattress. Your thumbs find his wrists to massage soft love-circles in case he’s gone numb there, gently coaxing him back to earth.
“Did so good for me, bunny.”
There’s a whimper, and then Jungkook’s surging up to kiss you, forceful enough that you give a little hum of surprise against his lips.
His hands are all over you, all at once, tugging at your legs to drag them forward until you’re flat on your back on the mattress. Your sore thighs shake when he shoves them up and apart, and then a sharp buzz rolls right over the bud of your clit and you keen. Fuck, when did he even grab the vibrator?
“Wanna make you come again,” he pants, and you smile even as your spine arches off the bed. Of course. You should’ve known.
It’s Jungkook all over, you think, hyper-focused on your pleasure even when he’s out of commission, and then you feel the head of his cock push inside and you both gasp. Your cunt aches, so swollen that it’s like he’s stretching you out all over again when you take him to the hilt.
“Oh my god,” you breathe. Jungkook’s hips snap, punctuated by a strangled grunt of effort, but he keeps going, making soft little sweet-pain whines with every thrust, brow scrunched as he brute-forces his way well past overstimulation.
He’s still crying, you realize.
Tears roll down his face and drip onto your collarbone, and everything’s somehow hotter for it. His length is slick, painted in the stored-up remnants of his cum, and you can hear the squish of your folds at the base of his cock each time he fucks it all back into you, so dirty it makes your head spin.
“J-just like that, baby,” you groan, overwhelmed; you can barely get the words out. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”
Jungkook buries his face in the crook of your neck, and you can feel him shaking, dripping, still rabbiting his hips into you, and then the hum of pleasure reverberating through your body explodes. Your clit throbs with an orgasm that feels endless, dizzying, divine. Jungkook outright sobs as your walls pulse pulse pulse around him, begging for every last drop.
When it’s all too much, you swat at his hand, mumbling shapes that aren’t words until the vibrator’s switched off and tossed away. He pulls out with a thick wet sound and the hiss of his breath between his teeth.
Together, you come down slow. Exhaling staccato, limbs tangled, bodies flushed and sweat-sticking.
Jungkook moves first: flops onto the mattress next to you, entirely exhausted, the way you’ve seen him get after a particularly rough workout. Scrubs at his face with one hand, this shy laugh fluttering out of him. “Can’t believe I cried. Ah, so embarrassing.”
You turn onto your side, tugging his hand away so you can press a kiss to his open palm. “Don’t ask me why but… in the moment? Very hot, actually.” A flush colors his cheeks and you giggle. “My perfect little crybaby.”
He flashes you his signature cocky grin, eyes squeezing shut as it morphs into something nearer to a wince. “Fuck, I’m so sweaty.” A breathless gasp, again. “And my dick hurts. I think I came dry that last time.”
“Poor baby,” you coo, not quite sincere. “You really could’ve stopped at… what, three?”
Eyes closed and still smirking, he shakes his head, damp hair falling in his face. “No I couldn’t have— I’m Jeon Jungkook.”
“You certainly are.”
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guccifrog · 3 months
Text
WRONG NUMBER P12
matt sturniolo x f!reader
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idk what to feel about this one tbh 🤓
y/n's pov
"Here," Chris said handing me a soda can, I took it and nodded my thanks. We've been all sitting in the waiting room for the past four hours, since I got to the hospital first thing in the morning, no one was allowed to see Matt. My heart felt like it was going to jump out of my chest, every time the doctors opened the door.
Nick sat wide awake, his head resting on my shoulder as I stroked his hair back from his forehead. His eyes never left the door, and every time it swung open, he tensed. Chris was sitting on the floor next to us, his head in his hands. He kept checking his phone, only to sigh and put it away again. The triplets' mom, whose name I learned was Marylou, sat across from us with their dad. Her eyes were red from crying, but she tried to keep a brave face on for her kids.
The clock on the wall ticked loudly, the seconds seeming to drag on for an eternity. I glanced at Nick, trying to think of something to say to take his mind off the waiting, but every time I opened my mouth, my voice caught in my throat.
Marylou shifted in her seat and glanced at me, then back at her Nick. She caught my eye for a moment and gave me a small, sad smile. I really wanted to go over and hug her, to tell her that everything would be okay, but I didn't know what to say to someone who was facing what they were facing.
The door suddenly opened, and a doctor came out, her expression serious. My stomach clenched in fear as she walked over to us. "I'm sorry to say," she began, her voice quiet but firm, "that the surgery was not successful." Nick's head shot up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "The patient has sustained too much damage, and his organs have begun to shut down. We've done everything we can, but…" She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
I felt like the world had stopped spinning as the doctor spoke those words. Is that it? Is this how it ends? it's that simple?
Nick started to shake uncontrollably, his eyes filling with tears. He buried his face in my shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. I wrapped my arms around him, unable to believe what I was hearing. Chris threw his arms around us both, sobbing into Nick's hair. Marylou and her husband both cried silently, their faces twisted in pain.
"Can we at least see him?" Marylou asked, her voice shaking. The doctor nodded, motioning for us to follow her. Nick clung to me, as we walked down the hall. I squeezed his hand reassuringly, wishing there was something I could do to make this better.
The room was dimly lit, and machines were beeping in the background. The hospital bed was elevated, and a body lay under the thin white sheet. Nick's body went limp in my arms as he realized it was his brother. His sobs grew louder. Chris squeezed past us, falling to his knees beside the bed. He reached out and pulled the sheet back.
"What the fuck?" I gasped as I looked at the body that was under the sheet. That's not Matt, it's someone else. It was an old man's body. The room spun, and I felt like I was going to throw up. "Oh my god," I heard Chris say, his voice cracking. "Is this some kind of joke?"
Nick was still sobbing into my shoulder, oblivious to what had just happened. Marylou knelt beside the bed, her hands clutching the sheets. The doctor walked over to us, her expression grim. "We're so sorry, There's been a mix-up. We'll go find your son immediately." She turned and practically ran out of the room. Nick looked up from my shoulder, confused. "What do you mean, a mix-up?"
Chris, still staring at the body on the bed, said, "I don't understand. That's not Matt. I'm sure that this isn't even his room." He turned to the other doctor. "Who's body is that?"
The doctor paused, his face pale. "I…I don't know. The records show that he was supposed to be here, but…it's not him." He looked at us, his eyes filled with fear and regret. "I'm so sorry, we'll try to fix this"
Nick pulled away from me, his face a mix of anger and disbelief. "Fix this? How do you fix something like this?!" He pointed to the body on the bed. "That's not my fucking brother! Where is he?!"
Marylou took a deep breath and tried to calm him down. "Nick, we need to stay calm. The doctor is going to find out what happened and make sure Matt is okay. Let's just try to wait here." She squeezed his hand, but he pulled it away, pacing back and forth.
The doctor returned a short while later, her expression grave. "We've identified the body as belonging to a man named Matthew Williams. He was admitted to the hospital under a false name, and the records were somehow switched with your son's. We've notified the police, and they're investigating the situation." I stared at her, My face a mask of disbelief and horror. "I am so, so sorry for this mistake. We'll do everything we can to find your son and get this sorted out."
Nick collapsed into a chair, his head in his hands. Chris knelt beside him, trying to comfort him. Marylou looked from Nick to the doctor, her face pale. "Do you have any idea where our son might be?" she asked, her voice shaking. The doctor shook her head, her expression pained."Not yet. We'll alert all the hospitals in the area and work with the police to locate him as quickly as possible."
As the minutes turned into hours, the waiting room seemed to close in on them. Nick paced back and forth, unable to sit still. Chris tried to stay calm, but the anxiety was evident in his voice when he spoke to the doctors. Marylou sat in a chair, her face pale. The silence was broken only by the occasional sob from Nick or the beeping of the machines in the hallway.
taglist :
@mattestrella @chrisfavoritepepsi @sunsetsturniolos @littlebookworm803 @sturniozo @sturniolooooo @athaliahxoxo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ev3rgreenxtrees @nonamegirlxsturniolo @crybabycat1 @mooniethesimp31 @ducksturniolo @ifilwtmfc @pepsiimaxx @sleepysturnss @lustfulslxt @ilovemattsworld @hrt-attack @flowerxbunnie @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @secret-sturniolo @iluvmeeen @that-general-simp @swangelss @familynotfandom @fuckshitslover @styles-sturniolo @lvr-111 @opheliaofficial07 @kiarastromboli
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yoisami · 9 months
Text
˚₊‧୨୧ ENOUGH FOR ME
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[૮₍ ˃ࡇ˂ ₎ა]: somewhat inspired by taylor swift's "daylight". it's impossible to not fall in love with her lyrics tbh. never wrote for sae before so i hope the quality is acceptable :')
tags. sae x gn!reader, 838 wc, relationship trauma, hurt/comfort, damaged self-esteem, mentions of cheating, use of profanities.
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it was hard for you to believe that you were enough.
all the company you've kept since adolescence weren't enjoyable. whether it be friends, exes — none of these relationships brought you joy, let alone satisfaction.
your so-called friends in high school always seemed to have scattered hints here and there that they disliked your presence. it was a rare occurrence to see a genuine smile on their faces when you initiated conversations with them, and you were used to walking on the very edge of every path.
what is it that you lacked that constantly resulted in apathetic expressions when you put your opinion in discussions?
while it was difficult to bandage the splits in your heart, you managed to cover it well with white lies until graduation arrived, when you finally deleted all their contacts with a self-pitying smile.
and god, you really thought your relationships in university would turn out better — you managed to convince yourself that good people would soon enter your life, and that eventually, someone would be able to rescue you out of the ocean of misery you've been swimming in.
sure, your friends were nicer, and friendlier. but your boyfriends weren't. the first one only fed you a teaspoon of affection during the six months you dated, and lazily cut the ties with you over text claiming that he was no longer interested, and that you were too boring.
your second relationship was the most painful out of them all. you were discarded in the corner of his mind like an old doll after a month, and he began pursuing 'prettier' girls in your major. your kind heart was fucking stupid for granting him another chance to fix up the mistakes he made, because it ensued even more arguments that seared your skin burning red. his words pierced like daggers, and he finally did it for you when you watched him kiss his girl best friend as a dare. without realising, he was bleeding you dry as he pulled his friend closer, hands sinfully exploring her skin with a dirty smirk on his lips. in one night, he eradicated your confidence — it came crumbling down like an avalanche.
the reflection started to look ugly; you frowned upon your features, your wounds, and your misfortune. with a negative light cast over your sight, you were persuaded that you were simply not enough for anyone.
today marked two years since the end of your cruel relationship with him. your internal wounds still remained as scars on your glass-like heart. the memories resurfaced from time to time, but itoshi sae locked them away in the vault of your mind, throwing the key in a faraway void when he declared his feelings to you, and you only.
you were hesitant, your trust for people severed, and you held iron shields over your heart. your interest lingered for a while, only for you to anxiously reel it away when you recalled all the negative outcomes of your past relationships. you were certain that a relationship with itoshi sae would end up the same — bitter emotions and broken heartstrings.
but oh... you were delighted to see how wrong you were. you were so so wrong.
you've never seen someone love you like tomorrow was going to end — like it was his last chance at life; like you were enough for him.
sae kissed you like you were the most beautiful being alive; he embraced you like you were his most prized possession. his devotion, love, protection and care was combined into an ethereal mix that came in the form of his heart, and he gave it to you with zero regrets.
you could find him at the bottom of every cliff, with strong arms that extended out to you and a small smile that meant he'll catch you if you ever fell.
as someone who was deprived of genuine affection and care, it was truly impossible to not fall in love with him. to others, sae was condescending, and often unfriendly, but to you, he was the warmest person on a cold night.
and he was the one who dived in that ocean to bring you back on shore.
on this bleak late-autumn morning, sae reminded you again that you belonged with him. each kiss he pressed on your shoulder blade teemed with love, each pat on the side of your waist evoked butterflies in your stomach, and each whisper against your earlobe was like a feather that delicately tickled your skin.
and as you turned to face sae on this rainy morning, you're both relishing the presence of each other. his hair was disheveled from the movements he made in his sleep, and your cheeks were rosy from the warmth of the bed — neither of you looked perfect in this moment. still, you were everything he ever wanted, and you couldn't ask for anyone better.
the corners of his lips turn upwards, and sae sealed his affection for you with a fervorous kiss, as he held you close to his heart.
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© yoisami 2023. plagiarism, translation and distribution of my works outside of tumblr is not permitted.
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chlerc · 10 months
Text
on the move ; jude bellingham
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— summary; being in love with the guy you said yes to no-strings attached has to be the worse thing ever. He made it worst by moving to Madrid, no goodbyes.
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pairing — jude bellingham x fwb!f. reader ( third person story )
word count — 1070 with a mix of social media posts.
content — lil angst(?) the girl who wants a forever with the guy who’s always on the move for his career. lil tadbit of asshole & toxic jude i think
NAVIGATION + author’s note: tbh idk where this went near the end, it’s sketchy…
is jude toxic if he’s based off this song…
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Liked by judesgf, judeupdates and 29,462 others
ftballwags Jude Bellingham spotted with rumoured girlfriend, @ynusername ( last picture from her story captioned 2+2=22 in black and yellow )
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files4jude damn he got a girl now
luvjb22 she’s literally so gorgeous…
jbellinghamdaily caption @ my account wrongly, that’s me sorry guys
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Liked by gioareyna, jobebellingham and 2,581,654 others
judebellingham what a place 🇬🇷
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jobebellingham who the flowers for
judebellingham @jobebellingham a cute photographer / my stalker
gioareyna cutie 😍
judebellingham @gioareyna all you 😘
ftballwags the flowers 🫣
j22de flowers are for me calm down guys
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WAKING UP IN THE embrace of Jude had become her favourite thing over the past month. It was the way he had his arms around her waist, legs tangled with each other, the warmth radiating off his bare body and the comfort within him.
Him sleeping over at her apartment wasn’t foreign anymore, not with how the friendship escalated between them. From a friend to the rumoured girlfriend who in truth was actually a friend with benefits. Pictures of them together all over every social media platform but not once had Jude denied it but fueling it.
Her eyes gazed upon him as she adjusted to the golden streaks pouring in through her curtains. He had the kind of face that stopped her in her tracks. He was the kind of handsome that got into her bones, that spoke to her of olden times before he’s said a word. And he was so handsome as he slept, that steady heart, those steady breaths, more than enough to make her feel something she shouldn’t have.
She reaches for her phone and the screen lighting up, notifications flooding her lock screen but one catches her attention. “@fabrizioromano OFFICIAL: Jude Bellingham, Real Madrid player until 2029 for €103m plus 30% add ons!” She could feel the way her heart dropped, the blaring ringing sound in her ears and beads of tears threatening to spill.
“Why are you crying, m’love?” Jude shuffled under the covers, fingers running to swipe the tears off her cheeks as his hand cupped the back of her head. “You’re playing for Madrid next season?” The vulnerability in her voice almost broke him with how soft her sentence came out. “Yeah.” That was all he could get out knowing what was coming next.
“You’re leaving Dortmund? I thought you said you were staying.” Jude takes the moment to sneak a quick glimpse of her before looking away again, unable to maintain eye contact with her. “I did but if a club like Real Madrid offers you a contract would you have said no? It was for my career, not the money. Any amount of money from the team wouldn’t have been able to get me to stay.”
She knew this was coming all along, the talks and posts of Jude transfering to Madrid during the summer transfer yet she still got herself tangled in his mess. “So you’re moving to Madrid?” Her lips quivered at every word she’d said, struggling to compose herself when she should and had to. “Yeah, of course I‘m leavin’. You wouldn’t expect me to travel to and fro Spain, would ya?”
“So you’re leaving me behind too.” She mumbles under her breath, hoping to god Jude hadn’t heard it but he did with the close proximity between them. “There’s no way you’re acting sappy all up on me now. You went into this knowing you’ll never get anything out of it, I'm not staying just because you want me to or you need me.”
He untangles himself from her, throwing on his white sweatshirt that was on the floor. This was the kind of talk he wanted to avoid and he had never expected it to be with her. “I tell you I love you every night and I wake up to find you’re leaving for Madrid? I’m not even mad you’re leaving for Madrid, I’m mad I had to find out through a Twitter notification and not you when you were right in front of me this whole time.”
“Yeah what were you expecting me to say? I’m leaving for Madrid, whatever we have now ends here. No shit that was going to hurt your feelings like it is now but I told you that nothing will ever come out of this. Weren’t all your ‘I love you’ platonic?” There’s a hint of frustration in his speech as he huffed, hands crossed over his chest as he towers over his girl who was now standing. Once his girl, in his heart.
“Platonic? I literally am in love with you, Jude. The bare minimum you could do was to tell me you signed a contract with them, that would have prepared me for all this. I would have celebrated it and let you leave just like that.” She refuses to let him see the tears she’s gonna weep for him, not when he was being heartless but right.
“Love love love, all this bullshit coming from you. Then just continue being in love with me but I’m telling you I’m not staying for you. Wow it’s like you’re making me choose between my career and you! We agreed there’d be no love between us and you agreed, don’t push the blame on me like I’m heartless.” No one could ever experience it and she wished no one would ever experience the sorrow she felt. It’s almost like she’s his plaything, using it and throwing it however he wants.
“So it was something like you leading me on? Not addressing the girlfriend rumours?” And when his eyes were shifty and looking everywhere but her, it was more than a clear sign she needed. “No, not leading you on. I was just tryna be a gentleman but you obviously misunderstood that too. Addressing the rumours only makes it more complicated that it already is now, and you’ll just misunderstand it too.”
“I think you should leave, it does end here like you said. You’re not heartless, I was just stupid and wanted more from you even though you promised nothing. Thanks Jude, for opening my eyes.” She smiles meekly at him, not quite like the same smile he’d always see that reaches her eyes. “Yeah that’s what I’m doing, you’re living in wonderland and dreaming. Wake up, I’m not like how you imagined me to be. Nothing lasts forever, get over it.”
God he had been exactly how she imagined him to be but without this part. He definitely was everything she wanted even now despite everything he had said. Her eyes followed Jude as he left her bedroom, the shuffling of his feet and the slamming of the front door.
She should have known nothing lasts forever, she had walked into it knowing she’d never get anything out of it. She isn’t getting anything out of it and that shouldn’t affect her, that was what she planned to do after hearing his words. Nothing lasts forever, get over it.
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ynusername ibiza, you were amazing 🤍
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gioareyna miss you
ynusername @gioareyna miss you too, catch up soon when i’m back in dortmund 💋
sofiamartinez gorgeous girl love ya
ynusername @sofiamartinez love you 🤍🤍
ftballwags absolutely stunning 😍
julianbrandt Ist diese hübsche dame single? (is this pretty lady single?)
ynusername @julianbrandt haha nein, aber für dich könnte ich 😂 (haha no, but for you i could)
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ftballwags Stories of rumoured girlfriend of Jude Bellingham, looks like there’s no more Jude in the picture. ( last picture from her bf’s story. )
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ynusername 🤍
ftballwags @ynusername 🤞
judesgf NOW I HAVE A CHANCE 💪
jude_updates_22 damn i was rooting for them
bvb.updates bottled it like the title 😓
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ynusername Love, Madrid 🎞️
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gioareyna always stunning
ynusername @gioareyna can’t even see my face 🙄 but thank you gio 😘
gioareyna @ynusername still pretty in my eyes
jobebellingham food looks good
ynusername @jobebellingham always saved some for you 😁
judebellingham pretty girl
ftballwags @judebellingham 🤔👀
charlottehartz my girl ( who has a bf ) 💋💋
ynusername @charlottehartz nope, all yourssss
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judebellingham recently but life was better with you
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gioareyna your fault though 😓
judebellingham @gioareyna like i didn’t know that
jobebellingham fire caption 🔥 took you 7 months to realise
judebellingham @jobebellingham 🤬🤬
bvbdailupdates blud thinks we’re clueless
ftballwags now this is kinda sad
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allamericansbitch · 10 days
Text
since y'all seemed to want this.... here's the live notes i took while listening to each song for the first time (bold are thoughts i had during later listens)
fortnight: 
‘i was a functioning alcohol till nobody noticed my new aesthetic’ what the fuck does that even mean…
love the fact she gave post the female collab treatment. don’t wanna hear what he has to say. 
they’re voices sound actually good together? 
some pockets of the melody are catchy
okay i don’t hate this 
ttpd:
her red flags are on fire in this song lol
this seems very half-cooked
also jacks weird mixing continues to plague us all
CHARLIE PUTH???? WHAT THE FUCK WHY HE HERE
tattooed golden retriever??? ……no way
my boy breaks all his favorite toys:
i blinked and it’s half over
this also is like… half cooked and didn’t need to be released tbh
i love the way she sings the second verse tho
down and:
the production does not match the vibe
did tpain produce this
i’m… kinda bored lol
like i have nothing to say this also didn’t need to be released tbh 
this grew on me a lot actually
so long london 
the production is so futuristic? 
oh im obsessed with how she sounds on this one
her talk-singing in the verses is great
honest lyrics without any clunky unnecessary metaphors! a win!!
the fast-paced verses with th slow chorus is really really cool
a favorite so far
daddy i love him
i can barely hear her? the bad mixing continues 
‘growing up precociously sometimes means not growing up at all’ oh yeah WE KNOW
is this…… is this about her dating matty and loving how people hate him… no fucking way she’s this stupid
SHE IS BEING THIS STUPID
‘it’s white noise’ yeah yeah that’s exactly how id describe him  
.... anyway y'all remember when fans really believed the little mermaid theory and this song was supposed to be about how 'joe stole her voice' lmaooo
we will pretend this one doesn't exist!
fresh out the slammer
are we getting another ‘i didn’t cheat technically’ song lol
what is this weird tempo change….
okay kinda catchy
it’s sounds exactly like you are in love at the end….. jack is really out of tricks
florida
‘my friends all smell like weed or little babies’ what the fuck is she even talking about anymore 
i’m sorry but i’m laughing at the phrase ‘fuck me up florida’
again the production sounds so detached from the vocals 
i honestly still have no idea how i feel about this one
guilt as sin
an real instrument?? wow crazy 
okay she’s kinda cute? catchy and fun, love the melody
i love when she goes up at the end of the vocal 
okay…. i don’t mind this one she’s catchy, a little too long and drawn out but cute
who’s afraid of little old me?
what is this production? it’s way too soft to be as threatening as they’re trying for 
why did jack push her vocals back so far when she’s supposed to scream…. that’s ruins the whole thing…. she’s supposed to be screaming and threatening….. not quiet and far away…. hello
this song is trying very hard to be threatening but it’s not... vigilante shit 2.0
‘you wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum they raised me’…………… upper middle-class pennsylvania? 
‘i’m drunk on my own tears isn’t that what they all say, that’ll  sue you if you step on my lawn’ okay bar?
the bridge was good but that’s about it.
i can fix him 
…………… not another matty song oh god
‘i can handle a dangerous man’…… im too stunned to speak this is so embarrassing 
wow taylor really is that girl who like ‘women supporting women’ and then dates/defends a racist bf…. a walking example of white feminism
intersectional feminism found dead.... twice....
loml
okay this is really nice? 
I WAS ACTUALLY ENJOYING THE SONG WHY DID SHE RUIN IT BY SAYING ‘MR STEAL YOUR GIRL’ 💀
if we ignore that one line we're good this is good. im refusing to let that line ruin such a good song
i can do it with a broken heart
‘bitch smile’ why are there so many cringey lyrics on this album lol
what is this song omg why do i kind of like it 
taylor please learn depressed isn’t a synonym for sad 
they recycled the mastermind production 
wait till taylor finds out most of the entire world is sad while they're doing their job and has to pretend they're not
smallest man who ever lived 
oh i think i like this?
‘you said normal girls were boring’ GIRL AND YOU DIDNT IMMEDIATELY GET UP AND LEAVE??? EWWWW??? she's not beating the pick-me allegations
'i just wanna know if rusting my sparking summer was the goal' okay love that line
i like this a lot
the alchemy
no….. no way this is real
i cannot
THE SPORTS METAPHORS WE JOKED SHED DO THAT AND SHE ACTUALLY DID IT OH NO 
touchdown ✅ teams ✅ benches ✅ winning streak ✅ the league ✅
she’s doing…… the worst thing ever this is so laughable 
the corny lyrics are on overload 
‘this time it’s heroine with an e’ didn’t she write folklore? i can’t remember 
that literally was an snl parody of a taylor song
clara bow
love how the guitar sounds… bet money this is an aaron track 
a stevie nicks reference!! a win!!!
i like this one a lot no cringey lyrics yet
nope never mind she name-dropped herself don’t like that
overall really liked it tho
the black dog
i think i like it?? this is kind of what i expected the album to be
okay for once the weird production choices kind of pay off
imgonnagetyouback
kinda catchy? 
she loves a fancy car getting wrecked line
the pre-choruses are the best part 
this would’ve been better without the jack of it all bc he loves a song that doesnt build to anything
this just comes down to personal preference: i don’t like her lighter vocals with jack’s heavy production (ie most of lover lol)
the albatross
a real instrument!!! production that matches taylor’s voice and is well mixed!!! aaron’s arrived!! 
i think it’s solid, has good writing and she sounds great. that's about it.
chloe or sam or…
took me a solid minute to have any semblance of a fuck to know what was going on but okay
okay i love this one
wayyyy more emotive than like… most of the original album
a lot of the 2nd version (or whatever this is lol) are way more emotive, maybe because her voice isnt drenched in reverb so we can actually hear her voice emote better
how did it end
this sounds like an old school adele song? 
i love this one too…. 
her being upset people wanna know what happened but then also feeding it while promoting the album oop 
i love the story of this one it's so refreshing
so high school
THE PRODUCTION is so good ugh aaron never fails 
the man here is a walking red flag girl and the lyrics are ~not it~ but the production is too pretty to hate it
fuck these lyrics are so bad lol
maybe if i disassociate hard enough i can ignore the lyrics and just listen to the production and vibe
give me a karaoke version of this song and we'd be so back
i hate it here
i mentioned disassociation and she made a whole song about it!!!! this one’s mine!!!! 
‘without all the racists’ GIRL HUH
WHAT WAS THE REASON
also... girl don’t act like we don’t know you’re fine with that lololololol
if i had a dime for every time i was liking a song to then have it slapped away because of a bad, out-of-pocket lyric…… 
thank you aimee
this isn’t grabbing my attention 
oh the bridge is interesting 
it’s meh 
i will never be thanking the people that bullied me thanks tho
i look in peoples windows 
what do you mean aaron didn’t produce this??? it’s well-made and has instruments? 
i love this one, again a really interesting and unique concept that's very refreshing to hear at this point when a lot of the songs feel repetitive
the prophecy
aaron guitar!!!! 
she’s nice i like her 
i've really grown to love how she sings this one, the melodies are cool.. however i feel like we've heard the same melody.. like on this exact album... where she upturns at the end of every line...
cassandra 
this seems very…. familiar… idk i feel like we’ve covered this (i mean there are 31 songs we’ve already covered everything lol)
this is such an aaron song, that's a classic 'the national' piano
i like her voice in this one tho, sounds good
peter
oh love i love this
now this? THIS feels the most like a taylor swift song
once again she’s at her best with a simple instrument and emotive simple lyrics
the piano reminds me of champagne problems
the bolter 
i like this! the chorus is so cute
oh i like that ending line a lot!
she’s cute, a little long and drawn out but cute
robin
i haven’t seen anyone talk about this one
welp…. i literally have no feelings toward this one but sounds pretty! 
the manuscript
oh this is soooooooo powerful 
i love this concept 
her ending the album on another introspective album that sums everything up a la dear reader yep yep!!
if you actually read of this ily 💗
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illegiblewords · 5 months
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SOME ILLEGIBLE RAMBLES AND REFLECTIONS: THE DEAD THREE
Finished my first/main playthrough of Baldur’s Gate 3, and it’s had me turning over all sorts of ideas tied to Dungeons and Dragons lore. A bunch happens to be about cosmology so I'm slapping together one post about the Dead Three and a follow-up about deities more generally. Buckle up if you decide to proceed dudes. This is chunky and opinion/interpretation heavy. CW for mention (not extensive) of graphic violence and sex crimes during discussion of Bhaal and Yeenoghu.
MYRKUL
I get that there are multiple death-affiliated deities in DnD. Our buddy Jergal is the end of all things and the original incarnation of the concept. Myrkul stands for the experience of dying, decay, necromancy, graves, bones, and the fear of mortality. Kelemvor rules over the dead. Orcus is a demon lord and quasi-deity of undeath. Could prob go on.
I've read many different incarnations of death over the years. To set the stage on my Myrkul read, it bears mentioning that Terry Pratchett's Death is probably my favorite. I don't have it in me to see death as something totally malicious. It's very natural, and I tend to imagine that if there were to be an incarnation embodying it this persona would have an intimate view of all the love and grief, vulnerability and intimacy, ugliness and solitude, etc. that mortals deal with. Death has witnessed the end every living being faces, from the dawn of creation until now. Even if it isn't consciously accessed at all moments, death is ancient and experienced and not likely to be shocked by what mortals are capable of anymore. Mortals are small. Uncountably numerous though we are we are far outnumbered by the unliving. What are lives next to planets, to stars? Here I'd argue against assigning value according to how big or small something is, how eternal or how brief, how simple or complex. Everything that is, is a universe unto itself and deserves the gravity of that. It is also very mundane at the same time. To me, death needs to be able to balance the preciousness and commonality of life, of existence, on the tip of its scythe. Death needs to be able to deal with the most depraved beings to exist, but also with every beloved pet put to sleep. Every lost child or parent. Everyone who dies surrounded by loved ones and everyone who dies alone.
Initially, even knowing Myrkul in particular had been a mortal necromancer and not of particular moral standing--I had mixed feelings about him being the evilest of evil skeletons. He worked it well, but the idea of any aspect of death (or any character tbh) being flat evil felt off to me. Especially with 'we're all the protagonists of our own stories' being at work. People don't often look at what actions they'd consider to be evil then go 'I'm going to make myself that on purpose'. Disregarding morality maybe, but being evil on purpose is weird.
So I looked into further lore about Myrkul. One spot that gave me pause was that Myrkul as death (rather than the adventurer Myrkul Bey al-Kursi he’d once been) revels in inspiring fear of death and driving home experiences of loss. From what I found he isn't focused on the name of the individual holding the office of death, but for the force itself being feared. He can be bribed, and he will allow for necromancy/resurrections--but the fear and gravity of death is a sacred thing to him. Disregarding that is a pretty good way to get onto Myrkul's shitlist. I want to take a moment to emphasize the importance of Myrkul focusing on his portfolio over his own ego. That is far from a given in the DnD pantheon, and like I said he's a former mortal himself. It wouldn't be out of the question for him to be a petty and insecure deity. He could have been the sort of guy where becoming a god of death by itself wasn't enough power. If Myrkul was a different person, he might have wanted people to stroke his ego and say how strong he is. He might have been someone who felt inadequate as a god without that affirmation. He could have (as a character) been unsatisfied and forever wanting/dependent upon the views of others to define himself. The fact that he DOES focus on death and decay as forces rather than himself is a big deal in reading him imo.
Anyway. Myrkul's emphasis on death as something feared got me thinking about what would cause a person to put such weight on death being understood in its negative aspect. It struck me that this is actually a very common and even important thing. You don't need to demonize death to see it, either. If you value life as sacred, the idea of life being treated as cheap or disposable is horrifying. When you love something dearly, the idea of that beloved thing being defaced is beyond outrage. It's a kind of sacrilege. People who kill as casually as breathing, who revel in the permanent destruction of someone else, become a source of horror. The absence of love creates a sort of cruelty that can't even perceive itself. And it's not uncommon for human beings in particular to partake in this. Humans dance on the graves of those they deem enemies not because they're relieved to be safe, but because they glory in the end of other lives. They don't recognize that anything of value was lost. There is no tragedy in death anymore. Every gentle moment, every vulnerability, every tragedy in their opponent's life is something to be crapped on and gloated over. There is no greater insult to life itself. Myrkul stands as a reminder that such behavior cannot stand. You can't treat life or death as cheap. To see something horrific and fail to realize the weight of its horror is itself a form of horror. The idea of a death that demands to be acknowledged for what it is, particularly by the living, imo actually denotes a level of care for life too. It might be harsh or ugly, but I don't know about evil. So while Myrkul is certainly flawed and often serves as an antagonist, I’d argue the function he performs is not only important but necessary.
And while it might vary between players, I found Aylin's enthusiastic executions and body defiling pretty uncomfortable. I understand she went through a lot and am fine with her as a character. But I think Myrkul's point stands if the audience feels even a moment of disquiet seeing her celebrate over the corpse of a broken person.
Some things are meant to be ugly.
BANE
Of the Dead Three I find Bane the most disturbing and dangerous tbh—but not for how Gortash invokes him. Way I see it, the other word for tyranny is authoritarianism on a macro-level, abuse on an individual level.
I’d argue that in life, we can only healthily control ourselves and our own individual actions/choices. We can try to persuade others or appeal to their judgment, but we can’t MAKE another person think or act how we wish. When folks attempt otherwise (individually or more broadly) it involves fear, force, deceit, or other forms of pressure. Coercion, enslavement. These fall under the umbrella of tyrannical practice to me. You treat another person as subhuman and strip them of agency.
We don’t live in a pure and ideal world. If a tyrannical person is committing crimes and denying others their free will through force, I wouldn’t call defense through force tyrannical as long as it wasn’t needlessly excessive. Power struggles exist. But the whole practice of using fear, force, deceit, or pressure to control another person is dangerous imo. They're to be utilized as little as possible.
In DnD I don’t think the fringe evil cults would be the ones most at risk for corruption by Bane. I don't think individuals or groups who prioritize self-indulgence would be most at risk, either. The most dangerous and frequent disciples of Bane imo would be within good alignment. This means followers of benevolent gods as well as the nations or groups that consider themselves to have righteous causes. ESPECIALLY those with chips on their shoulders.
When someone assumes they have and always will have the moral high ground, that they are incapable of committing injustice, that their end justifies whatever means, that it doesn’t count as abuse with the 'correct' target… that, to me, is where tyranny festers. The person convinced of their own moral infallibility is the one who sees no need for brakes and so cuts them without concern.
I’d argue everybody has a seed of tyranny in them that can be fed or starved. We feed that seed with our own indignation to become a tyrant victimizing others while still seeing ourselves as powerless. The person who first victimized you can still also be victimized by you. There isn’t a target that exists where finding joy in cruelty gets a pass.
Bane, I think, thrives on the idea that it's no problem if you're enforcing your will. Especially on people contemptible to you.
For DnD purposes, imagine you have zealous followers of idk Tyr. They are willing to do whatever it takes to enforce and spread their definition of justice. They believe in making examples of people at every opportunity. They torture, isolate, rob, and shame those they consider to be unjust or dangerous. If their victims are falsely accused—well. It’s for a noble purpose so the sacrifice is not in vain. And imagine Tyr abandons these followers as hypocrites. He no longer empowers clerics or paladins no matter how they cite scripture or brand ‘heretics’ with his symbols.
Bane doesn’t enter calling himself Bane, god of tyranny. Bane claims to follow a higher justice. Maybe he uses an avatar, maybe he chooses a Banite disciple, maybe he finds a true believer. But he argues that Tyr as an individual was never ultimately what those zealots stood for—it was justice itself. And if Tyr has turned traitor to his own portfolio, mortals need to go over his head to the core concept and implement that. Bane offers a name that suits his purposes and begins sourcing power to clerics and paladins instead. And throughout, as the zealots commit increased atrocities against those they deem dangerous or evil they fail to realize they’ve spiraled into evil alignment after all. They’d think they were either just as good as they’d always been OR BETTER. The compassion of Ilmater is spent on the depraved and corrupt as far as they’re concerned.
I think the real threat of Bane is that he should be 100% capable of corrupting an otherwise heroic party member if they aren’t wary of that capacity in themself. You suddenly find your friend who listened to your problems and supported you through awful shit mocking a person sobbing on the ground as they kick them. And that friend looks betrayed and hurt (or outraged) if you challenge their actions, because they think you should know exactly how disgusting this piece of shit is and how much they deserve the abuse. And even if you concede that individual case—it’s not the only one. The slights worthy of torment become smaller and smaller. A thought or word out of line betrays the ideology of an evil alignment, with the only solution being to beat thoughts and words out of the target until they can only repeat approved ideas back. And even then, it may not be enough.
If it was explicitly confirmed that the deity the zealot followed was Bane all along, the zealot might genuinely not believe it. They might get pissed at the very suggestion. What they do against the wicked isn’t tyranny after all. They’re righteous.
Denial doesn’t serve to disempower Bane in the least if tactics remain unchanged.
BHAAL
I’m holding off on more detailed Bhaal thoughts until I complete a dark urge run, but I’ve listened to lore on both him and the demon lord Yeenoghu recently—and I think there’s room for a really cool potential contrast.
Yeenoghu Lore
Providing this particular video link for the curious, as a way to help illustrate what I’m drawing from.
Yeenoghu holds the title as demon lord of slaughter. He glories in filth, rape, excessively graphic murder, torture, violence, and playing with corpses along the way. He’s meant to come across as a bestial, self-absorbed, remorseless desecrater. And when I say bestial, I want to draw attention to a particular IRL factoid that might be worth considering.
I love animals to bits. I don’t think animals generally contemplate morality the way humans do just due to cognitive differences and limitations. I also think it’s important to remember that humans are ALSO animals, so certain things umbrella’d under ‘human experience’ would probably apply to at least some animals too. If there are human altruists and human serial killers, we should be able to expect that animals likewise have some altruists and some serial killers within the scope of individual variation.
Cruelty is not exclusive to humans. Orcas will essentially torture smaller animals to death by flinging them into the air with their tails repeatedly like balls until repeated beatings and suffocation kill them. Dolphins commit rape and chew on live puffer fish to get high off the toxins. Chimpanzees are a horror unto themselves with cannibalism and mutilation and basically whatever atrocity they can commit. Wolves and cats sometimes hunt to excess just for the joy of it and don’t eat all they kill. Hannibal the swan (as a specific and notably homicidal individual) beat and drowned any other swans visiting his pond and showed his signet how to do it. I could go on. Some cases it might be a matter of the animal not having theory of mind to recognize that they are inflicting pain on another conscious creature. Other times, like with pissed off chimpanzees, they know EXACTLY what they’re doing and it’s on purpose to cause maximum suffering.
I think Yeenoghu should embody a little bit of both propensities. He’s just utterly self-absorbed and doesn’t give a fuck about the experiences or perspectives of other living things except insofar as they impact him.
Bhaal I want to research more like I said, but one thing I remember from my initial play through was finding a note from the Dark Urge to Orin.
Little sister, whatever in the Gray Wastes are we going to do with you? Bhaal will never care that you waste your time, posing your corpse-dollies. Bhaal doesn’t care whether you give him the corpse of a pauper or a king. At the end of the day, all Father wants is death in droves, death in numbers. To sap away the life of this dull world as swiftly and widely as we can. You plan, you plot, you prevaricate, and you waste his time. Bhaal doesn’t need us to think. He needs us to kill. You kill beautifully, and have talents in your shapes’ magics that I never will. But you do not understand Lord Bhaal. Perhaps it is a failing of your diluted blood, as a mere grandchild. I am his sole living pureblood. I will accept no challenge from you, until you show some damned respect.
To be honest this is interesting af to me because it positions Orin a bit more in-line with Yeenoghu’s modus operandi in some ways. But what sets apart the principles of Bhaal from Yeenoghu or Myrkul?
The Dark Urge suggests the goal of Bhaal is the extinction of all life, but to be honest I’m a bit skeptical. Seems like short term thinking. Even if Bhaal pulled that off, once it’s done there is no more murder or god of murder for that matter. If Bhaal is aiming for a cessation of existence and wants everyone else along for the ride maybe that’s what he’s after, but I dunno. That seems like something fans/players/loremasters would have touched on before.
I’d like to invite this possibility for foiling instead:
Life consumes other life by nature. Animals, plants, fungi, bacteria, so forth—it isn’t just a matter of philosophy. One life cannot exist without destroying another. We need to eat. If we don’t, we die well before reproduction enters the picture. But it’s more than that… you take a step, you kill countless tiny organisms you aren’t even aware of. You swat a fly. You hit something with your car. You move gracelessly or touch carelessly, and catastrophe ensues. Etcetera.
It is inevitable that your existence will mean the end for the life of another living thing. That’s just how it goes.
It could be interesting on a LOT of fronts (both as members of the dead three and as former adventuring companions) if Bhaal acted as a kind of philosophical opposite to Myrkul the way I previously described.
If the Dark Urge’s note is to be trusted, Bhaal has no interest in ritual or glorified death per se. Bhaal would be more about the mundanity that comes through the act of killing. Life is fragile as-is and often ended by accident. Killing in its most common form is thoughtless and unconscious. To Bhaal, if every life is a universe then the universe looks meaningless. There is no importance or fanfare to any of it. If one side is ‘everything matters, give weight to life and death’, Bhaal would be ‘nothing matters, we are not capable of affording reverence to every single life and death we encounter’. More specifically, the mass deaths Bhaal favors would be a kind of illustration of the uncaring and casual relationship living things have with killing other living things. The more casual and effortless it is, the more I’d imagine it serves Bhaal. Sadism and revelry miss the point—there is no hierarchy. Suffering is inconsequential. Fear is inconsequential. Instinct is inconsequential. To live is to kill by Bhaal’s logic.
It isn’t limited to murder in the sense of a member of one species killing a member of the same species. It’s more Bhaal is the god of killing. He’d gain power from murder too sure, but also hunting, harvesting, and butchering. With these interpretations in-mind, we can actually figure out how the Dead Three might have answered Jergal's question about what worth a mortal life holds. With the disclaimer this is very much conjecture. I think Myrkul would likely be "Each life is of infinite value and merits sacrificing everything for." That lends life a heavy weight and makes death a fearful force for all. It would also mesh with Ketheric as his chosen. Bane would lean into "That depends on a person's deeds", "The only life that matters is mine", or "Depends on the mortal". From those positions, the speaker argues for a hierarchy of life where some is more expendable than the rest. It's easier from that position to slide into adopting a role as judge and executioner, and from elevating yourself into a role of authority where other voices and experiences count less than your own. Bhaal I think is reflected in "Life’s only value is as currency. Doesn’t matter to me otherwise", "The only life that matters is mine", or "No one life is worth more than any other. We are equal." Bhaal has the implicit question in-turn: what is the blood-price of your own life? How much have you claimed in your own name to keep moving? It's kind of the belief that while "The only life that matters is mine" is Bhaal's answer, every other living thing should be answering the same way. There's more nuance than that of course, and likely truth falls somewhere in the middle. We aren't mentally capable of giving reverence to every death, but we can recognize in general terms and do our best case-by-case. We have a right to protect ourselves and what we love, but others share that right.
Feel free to offer different stances or thoughts though, and if you made it this far goddamn thank you for reading this monster.
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cheolhub · 2 years
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NAMJOON NSFW HEADCANONS😫
NSFW HEADCANONS! ⌇KIM NAMJOON ࿐
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— A.NOTE: MY GOD. joon day coming soon, i have so much prepared for him ;) THANK U FOR THIS REQUEST!! he’s so 😩 i cried writing the last few i love him sm… but hopefully you all enjoy! sorry for any errors :,)
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ngl, his first time with you is suuuuper awkward– he’s stuttering, overwhelmed by you, probably cums too fast… but rest assured every time after is mind-blowing
joon’s is a natural leader so it’s no surprise that he’s dom leaning in means of power play
we all know he’s packing. HUGE if you will– he understands that, but he can’t help but have a size kink
you just look so cute crying over his stupid, big cock, he can’t help but get even harder at the sight
even still, he’s a very soft dom (usually), focused on giving you pleasure and praising you for taking him so well
says things like, “you’re so good, baby, takin’ my cock so well,” or “you’re so gorgeous when you cum all over me, so fucking pretty all for me,” :( says all the right things to make you fall apart under him
joon likes calling you pet names, baby being his favorite, but he also calls you pretty girl, sweetheart, angel, his good girl </3 etc.
he lets you top him sometimes, but he typically prefers to be in charge
there are some days, though, when he wants to absolutely ruin you
with your consent, of course, he is a real man 
whether he’s had a bad day or you’ve just been overly bratty or if the bartender's eyes lingered on you for a few seconds longer than they should have 
he can and will fuck the life out of you like a hard, mean dom
will degrade you, but only with praise mixed in
says things like, “pussy’s suckin’ me in so well, such a good little slut,” and “you’re my pretty whore, ain’t that right?”
when he’s mean, he has a bit of a daddy kink
he just likes it, you sound so pretty when you’re whining and withering out, “daddy! daddy, please!” he swears you’ll be the death of him
his favorite position is cowgirl (who’s surprised) cuz he likes how you look riding him
watching you fall apart on his cock makes him feral and he always ends up fucking into you and playing with your tits (namjoon is a tit man, do not fight me on this)
and when your thighs burn and you simply can’t, he flips you over and fucks you so nice and deep that you’re turning into mush
another thing, he’s loud (not up for debate, like at all.)
he moans and groans and grunts and just when he’s about to bust, he whines and it’s fucking hot coming from such a big man
when he’s super close and his cock is literally throbbing inside of you, he starts babbling about how good your pussy is and how you’re made for him and how much he loves you :(((
aftercare with namjoon
the best in the world tbh, definitely the best within the group
his demeanor completely changes, the man that once dripped with dominance was replaced by his usual, nervous self
so, so careful with your body as if he didn’t just ravish you a few minutes prior
cleans you up quickly, makes you drink lots of water, even brings you a snack to “replenish your energy”
he makes you pee after because he read somewhere that you’re supposed to so you avoid infection (always says it in a sheepish voice while awkwardly scratching his neck T-T)
 showers with you (if you’re not too tired) and washes your body for you while apologizing profusely for being so rough with you (even if he wasn’t being rough, he just feels bad)
and when you’re out of the shower, he dresses you in his shirt and a pair of your own panties and gets into bed with you and literally clings to you like a perfect embodiment of a koala bear
he whispers in your ear and reminds you how much he loves you and thinks you’re the most beautiful person in the world until you fall asleep entangled with him
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farklelucas · 1 year
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okay so. now that ive taken some time to breathe, compose myself, and gather my thoughts, lemme lay out why the teen wolf movie was a hot holy mess (besides, you know, the obvious) as a teen wolf enthusiast and expert.
a lot of the characters were really little more than set dressing. to be specific, i think liam could have been replaced by a mailbox with a hat and the movie would have been the same (and this is coming from a major liam fan). the same can be said for mason, malia, melissa, peter, and honestly even the sheriff (which i hate bc god he was such a core of the show). i think parrish was only useful in one specific instance and even that isn't enough to warrant him being in the film. the characters i loved felt like cardboard cutouts and that wasnt fair to me, to the characters, or to the actors. i would have rather they not been there at all tbh. like just leave liam out of this if youre gonna do him like that fr
a lot of the plot points felt... disjointed and weird. saraid said it felt like three different movies in one and i have to agree. derek and eli felt like its own thing, then scott and allison, and then everything else (whatever the hell parrish and malia had going on, the lydia and jackson buddy cop comedy, liam in... japan with a ramen shop i think? and some random girlfriend that happened to be a kitsune) kind of fell to the wayside in between.
this movie was truly so flat without kira. it was hard to make a nogitsune movie without stiles, but it was almost impossible to make without her. hikari unfortunately ended up just feeling like a woman they randomly shoved into all the plot points kira was supposed to be in. because she didnt have a character besides liams girlfriend (and because liam was barely a character himself), she just couldn't compare and so kiras lack of presence was really felt. she left a huge hole in the narrative. they didnt even mention her and you knew what was missing. if you had cut khylin and dylan sprayberrys checks entirely, im sure they would have had enough to pay her as much as the rest of her white coworkers :) but that's just my opinion xxx
this was supposed to be for fans of the original series, but really just felt like jeff davis's weird rare pair fanfiction. instead of focusing on the dynamics that already existed - melissa and the sheriff, malia and peter, scott and liam, derek and. anyone really - he ended up delving into all these new dynamics with only two hours to develop them. malia and parrish (which. i really had to mentally run through the show to see if those two had interacted before and i dont think they have), liam and hikari, and derek and eli. all of which had a shot at being interesting but because there were so many different plots going on, it all just felt. awkward and confusing.
that being said, im gonna move onto derek and eli generally. i like eli! i do. i thought he was funny, i thought the actor was super charming (although the timeline made no sense because if he was born fifteen years ago And allison died fifteen years ago he would be braedens and. hate to say it folks. thats not braedens baby. make him mixed jeff davis you fucking coward). really, i liked him. ... but not at the expense of dereks character. the derek i knew was an asshole. he was mean, he was sarcastic, he was a bastard (honorifically). its not to say that people cant change, but... the derek i saw in the movie was a complete 180 from the derek we last saw in the series. honestly, the derek i saw in the series probably wouldn't have made a good parent - we saw how he was with erica, isaac, and boyd. even with scott. derek was kind of a dick. i dont even think he would have wanted kids - i think he would raise them out of duty, and i think he would if a partner wanted him to. but i dont think kids were ever in his life plan. and i think that could have been super interesting to see with him and eli. i think making him a parent could have been really interesting and it just. crumbled.
i know i mentioned the timeline in that last bit but. the timeline. it hurts my head. when was eli born. what year is it. how long has it been since scott has been in beacon hills. im so confused.
lets talk about adrian harris. shall we. i have made a list of people who i think would have been a better villain reveal are you ready: allison, peter, theo, chris argent, kate argent (resurrected), matt daehler (resurrected), victoria argent (resurrected), kira herself, danny mahealani, rafe mccall, isaac's shit dad, coach, greenberg, me with a baseball bat filled with rusty nails, jeff davis in a wig. the list goes on. you could not have picked a more random and less memorable character to reveal as your villain. i almost felt like i was being mocked. "haha! you didnt expect it to be this guy? the chemistry teacher who also died fifteen years ago? who had almost nothing to do with the plot until season 3? stupid! idiot!" i have never been so mad in my life
speaking of villain. did they forget what a nogitsune is. it needs a host. its not some guy they can stab to death. its a concept, a feeling, a parasite. its a manifestation of mental illness. but no sorry excuse me i must be wrong bc now its also a werewolf??????? im sorry. am i the crazy one. give me void allison! give me allison as the host and shes being taken over and she has those bags under her eyes and that creepy void stare and grin! give me crystal reed emmy noms! while we're on the subject, heres some more questions about the nogitsune include: why was it in a jar? why was it with LIAM of all people (who didnt even know what that was)? why did its powers completely change? HOW was it a werewolf????????? i cant stop thinking about it.
i said it once and ill say it again: jackson fucking carried this movie. he was giving all season one jackson, he was bringing comic relief, he was even bringing up ethan when no one else would! king! he carried. but he shouldn't have had to. dont get me wrong, i think crystal reed ate and left no crumbs. this was allisons movie and it should have been. but when the other two standout characters imo were jackson (who arguably did nothing) and coach (who did even less)... you simply didnt use your characters well. i think i would put deaton up there and even chris, but... scott and lydia? this should have been their movie. but scott spent nearly the whole movie ignoring his friends, and lydia was reduced to 'woman whose plot was about a man,' again. it was horrible. lydia outgrew that song and dance by season two. and scott? hasnt been to beacon hills in twelve years? hasnt seen his mom or his friends? not the scott mccall i know.
this is not about shipping discourse this post will never be about shipping discourse so i say this as a completely objective party. that being said. st/dia was so strangely shoved in there at the end. how did harris even know about lydia leaving stiles. how did he know about her dream. how did it add to the plot. like yes the nogitsune feeds of chaos and strife but i think lydia was getting enough of that watching her friends get murdered. it felt like a weird way to explain why dob wasnt there and it simply didnt work. i would have rather they not said anything about stiles at all.
anyway, this is skipping over a lot of other little things that i thought were really bad (sexualizing malia who literally had the mentality of an eight year old for most of her life AGAIN, why was mason a fucking cop, peters lack of interaction with the hale family which is what made him interesting in the first place, the absolute insanity of allison coming back to life and just being absolutely okay even though shes been dead for fifteen years, died at the hands of her friend, and almost everyone she knew including stiles, isaac, and kira are all just gone now), but boy oh boy. for a while it was funny bad. like "oh this is bad but i can still enjoy this for what it is" bad. but those last ten minutes. what is actually absolutely wrong with jeff davis. there are very few times ive felt this betrayed by tv shows i held this close to my heart, but im there. im heartbroken. i wont go on about it here, bc honestly, it would need its own post considering how much i have to say. but if the rest of the movie was bad? that was shit was traumatizing.
anyway. so sorry this post is this long, and so sorry i couldnt come back with a positive review. this show died long ago; i think we should have just let it rest - nobody asked for a reunion, and now i can see that was with good reason. so the next time jeff davis opens up an email with a header titled 'sequel idea' and he ccs tyler posey, i think we should all just agree to ler arden cho beat him to death in a dennys parking lot instead.
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requested: Azriel x reader. but reader is like this super cool and confident and amazing and badass and competent general in like another court. And every now and then Az just gets a glimpse of her while they’re fighting on the same side. and he like looks up to her. utter awe. and then they meet meet one day. and he’s flustered which is so ooc and he doesn’t know what’s happening. i just need to feel powerful tbh
a/n: Okay, I should probably apologize because this really took a turn but I just pushed the gas pedal and zoomed at 250 down the highway with it. I hope you'll still enjoy it. 🙃✨🤍✨🤍✨🤍✨🤍✨
warning: mention of sexual interactions
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Let's get one thing straight. Azriel is not a male who you could rile up easily. He doesn't get flustered. You can't get him out of line. It's always a wall of calmness there. Unreachable, stone-like face. He's an observer. Collecting information from the hubs of the rooms, shadows, and dimly lit corners. He doesn't use his voice if it's not needed. Doesn't waste a breath on a little silly conversation. So when you strolled into his life and his walls suddenly trembled, the sheen of coldness only seemed to thicken.
You were quite a character. With your strikingly sharp features and the way, you carried yourself. Your gaze seemed to pierce souls. The smile made males weak in their knees. Not to mention the sound of your laugh, which could chase death itself away. But then again, Azriel told himself constantly that he shouldn't like you. Any part of you. There shouldn't be a single feature of yours that appeals to him. After all, you were a Vanserra. The cousin of Eris Vanserra, the male Azriel, probably hated the most in this world. You two shared foxy-like features, both being extremely intelligent and calculated. Well, you were, at least. Eris didn't matter to Azriel. But it's the power you had in the court as the General of the Autumn Armies. The one and only. Unstoppable. People only graciously bowed their heads as you walked by. Some males tried to challenge you. Take your position and power away from you. Yet no one ever came close. Sentencing themselves to lifelong embarrassment and humiliation. Most meet their end or shuffle pig shit afterward.
Azriel had seen you on the battlefield as well. He had fought with you multiple times since differently from Eris or Beron, you had always been close with the Night court. And gods give him strength; you were like nothing Azriel had seen before. There was just something about the way you moved. The way you took your steps felt almost too perfect. The way you didn't even huff as you cut through the field. The way enemies on the battlefield field considered whether they should try to fight you. Hoping you wouldn't get in their way. Hoping not to see that bloodthirsty smirk.
After that first battle together, you approached the spymaster. He and his mysterious ways also caught your interest. "You were good out there, spymaster," you muttered, hands slipping through your matted hair as you gazed at the male. The playful, adrenaline-pumped kind of look on your face. Something inside Azriel's chest twisted. He had imagined you talking with him for a while, even if he would deny it. "As an Illyrian bastard to an Autumn scum, I don't care", Azriel wanted to bury himself alive after those words slipped out. Your eyes dimed instantly, lips thinning into a tight smile. That fire that ran through your veins grew instantly hotter. Azriel hoped you would have said something. Completely and utterly mixed him up with the dirt, but you just turned around as you hurried through the camp. And the shadow singer knew that he might have just made the biggest mistake of his life.
Even more so Azriel knew he shouldn't think about this as he walked through the halls of autumn residency with his brothers. Not when you were only a couple of doors away. But he had spent over a hundred years rethinking that moment. The chance that he had. He had sentenced himself for the backstage view at that point. For years of watching you with Cassian. He tried to ease the jealousy by simply telling himself that you both were generals. Most of your businesses ran similarly. Most meetings were shared. But there was more there. There was always more. And it was this that drove the spymaster insane. How every female he desired ended up in the hands of his brother instead.
The loud squeal echoed through the hall, followed by the hurried sound of steps. Azriel lifted his head right as you jumped into Cassian's arms, and the Illyrian spun you around, laughing lightly to himself. Azriel's face instantly turned sour, and if not for Rhys, who stood there with a pleasant smile, the spymaster would have thrown a punchy remark already.
"Your hair has gotten longer," you said, twisting your fingers through Cassian's curls, looking him over. You had been away on a mission for multiple months. To say that you missed that silly bastard would have been an understatement. "Any new cool scars, or were you the one handing them out?", the general teased, twirling you around. It was a rare occasion to see you in a dress. You much more preferred light shirts with corsets and pants. So this was quite a treat, "Oh, you know me too well, general", "Did you send my hellos to Summer?", you let out another laugh that pierced through Azriel's chest. "He just said this," you showed a couple of vulgar gestures to Cassian, and now even Rhys joined in the laughter. "Well, come along. Eris is waiting in the study", you move in that direction, falling into a light conversation with Rhys on your way there. 
Even if he doesn't want to admit it. It pained Azriel that you didn't acknowledge him. Not a single hi, or a little nod. Nothing. You had been polite all this time with one another. In all honesty, you probably had long forgotten about it, and it was only Azriel who was still hanging onto it. But then again, you only spoke to him in meetings. A word here and there if you visited Night, but only if the conversation was flowing around the table with everyone.
"I would say it's lovely to see you, but we all know that would be a lie," Eris said, motioning for the males to sit down. However, only Rhys accepted the invitation, leaving the other two males standing on either side of him. "I'm quite delighted personally unless you have bad news to share," Rhys chirped, leaning back into the plush chair. Eris poured the high lord a drink with a smirk on his face, as you leaned against the armchair he sat on.
"My lovely cousin has been away for business", Eris stated, "Let's say the situation is more serious than we thought". The fireling turned to you, giving his silent approval for you to take over from here. "You made some enemies, it seems. Troops are forming", Rhysand frowned at your words. Even Azriel did because he hadn't heard anything about this, and he should have if this information was true. You moved to take out some folded papers before handing them to the high lord, "They are mostly targeting your high lady. She's seen as your weak link."
A scowl on Rhys's face only grew as she turned page after page. "Why am I only now hearing about this?", the male growled. "Be thankful you're hearing about this at all; it appears your puppets are pretty clueless," "Eris!" you warned. Even if his word was final, you never allowed him to get out of line. He might have little respect for his opponents, but you were there to keep the lordling's toes on the ground.
"This seemed like a drunken scum slur for a while. I doubt they are capable of much", you continued, "But out of the procession, I would like to stay in Night". "If you're playing some games, Eris," Rhysand warned the Autumn heir, "It was Y/N idea to share this with you, I'm not too fussed," you instantly cut into Eris's words, "I did what I could to kill off the initial gatherings. Did it without informing you so fewer ears would hear about it". The lord nodded his head, his mind still clouded with what he had heard.
The two of them wanted a private conversation soon after. Leaving you three to stand behind the door. "So, sleepovers at night, huh?", Cassian wiggled his eyebrows at you. You two had your history, marked my endless amount of drinks and messing around. "If I remember correctly, you still owe me a drink or two," you purred, turning a dagger between your fingers, also a gift from the general. "Azriel can join us; he's been awfully uptight lately," the spymaster nearly wiping his head towards Cassian, his face turning into a frustrated grimace. "Like, look at him. I'm growing worried," the male continued to tease. You let out a chuckle, and Azriel's eyes fell on you. And here it was again. That feeling that he simply didn't have good enough words to say. Gaping at you both for a minute more, he turned to leave with one last word, "And you... You're juggling two females? Told her that already?"
Azriel knew it was petty. For all he knew, you and Cassian were never together. Well, not as a couple, at least. Plus, his brother suspected the attraction that brewed in Azriel's heart. And with Nesta now very much in the picture, the spymaster knew that Cassian's priorities lay with her. He moved to the shadowy end of the hall. Even if he didn't want to, his gaze returned to you from the shadows. Your eyes grew wide, your hand reaching to cover your mouth as you listened to whatever Cassian had to say. And then once more, Azriel knew that he shouldn't snoop, but he did send a shadow to listen in. In a way scared that maybe Cassian confessed his undying love to you or that he spilled Azriel's secrets instead. But it was neither of those two. It was Nesta Cassian told you about it. His obnoxiously stubborn mate, "Maybe you could talk or something," Cassian muttered, your hand moving to rest on his shoulder. "I'll have a word with her. Plus, if we train there, she might get curious herself."
That's how the next couple of weeks went. Your time was divided between training with the girls, keeping an eye on Feyre, and attending meetings regarding the security of Velaris. It was almost strange how well you blended into the dynamics of the inner circle. As if you were always a part of it, just temporarily absent. Azriel continued to watch you from afar. Admiring you and how the power you had hadn't gotten to your head. How you shrugged all of your achievements to the side when Cassian would go on yet another praise cycle about you. At moments like this, with a glass of wine in your hand and a lazy smile on your face, you seemed like the most basic townie. Not someone who had huge responsibilities on their shoulders. That was also the side of you that Azriel loved the most.
After swimming through his thoughts on the balcony at the house of wind, Azriel made his way inside. Considering that it was rather late, he was sure that everyone was already asleep or at least occupied by other activities. However, a faint gleam of light from the living room caught his eyes. A breath seized in his throat as he stepped into the room. You were spread out on the sofa, humming to yourself as you looked at the ceiling. It was impossible not to look at you. To not get lost in the shape of your body. The shadow singer was about to turn away, but then, "Oh, what an honor, the spymaster himself."
His heart fluttered just a little, but he tried to keep his face unreadable. Azriel tried not to run into you too often. It was bad enough he had to watch you spar with Cassian. Watch his brother try to tackle you while you straddled the Illyrian and pressed the blade against his neck. Or your sweaty body glistening in the sun. Things like that drove him mad and made him think thoughts he knew he shouldn't. Azriel had messed up, and keeping hops of any kind was foolish. The spymaster quickly shook his head, trying to get the images of you out of it. "I was only going to get some food. I see you are enjoying yourself", gods strike him. You let out a giggle. 
Turning to lay on your stomach, the material of the dress you wore crunched up beneath you, tightening around your now even more highlighted breasts. That dress in itself was a curse, not leaving much to the imagination, but with you lying like this, "You would be mistaken then," you purred, and Azriel quickly lifted his gaze from your body. Looking up only to meet your eyes. Eyes that had been watching him "Why... Why is that?", the spymaster swallowed hard, already feeling the heat rising. You let out a chuckle once again, "I'm so lonely here," "I could give you... I mean, I could get one of the girls for you," and Azriel wanted to curse himself for this flustered chaos he was becoming. If this continued, he would be a red mess soon, and he knew you would be enjoying that. It's the same Vansera foxiness that ran through your blood. Made this a game for you. A little chaise.
You swirled back down onto your back, hair falling over the edge of the sofa, head hanging over the side. "What could you give me, shadow singer?", you purr yet again, hands lightly holding the material of the necklace, just so you wouldn't give him a full view of what's underneath. "Some more water; you've drank too much," Azriel said firmly, but he can't help himself. Eyes wondering all over. You're a couple of steps away, and you're acknowledging his presence. The answer doesn't please you as you scrunch up your brows.
"Help me up, would you?", you asked him softly. Azriel hesitated at first, but with you like this and him all hot, it could all go downhill really quickly. But he walked closer to you anyway. Your fingers were already reaching for his hand. Yet right before he fully steps closer, you turn around once again, grasping both of his hands as you drag him onto the sofa. The fall is soft due to the pillows, yet Azriel's eyes are as big as the moon in the sky. His breathing was uneven. A low growl escapes his lips as you move to straddle him, fiery eyes watching him. "Caught you off guard, huh?", you mumbled, leaning closer to him, and Azriel was left there hoping that he would be able to resist this. His mind was racing with the desire to move his hands over your exposed thighs." I...you," the spymaster rasped out, trying to keep his eyes on your face. You let out a laugh, head falling onto his shoulder for a moment, "You caught it bad...".
But Azriel is shaking his head, and you raise your eyebrows at his reaction. "What if I kissed you here?", you lean in, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, fingers quickly moving to unbutton his shirt. Azriel only swallows thickly, his hands gripping the cushions behind him. The lack of reaction on his behalf makes you narrow your eyes at him and ask, "What about here?" Leaning in once again, you leave a wet trail of kisses down Azriel's neck. Nibbling on his skin here and there. Azriel's hands move to grip your legs as a low moan escapes his lips. Your lips curve into a pleased smirk, "Such a good boy you are", "You're dangerous", Azriel muttered, still lost in the feeling of your lips on his skin. "Oh come on, you want it", you tease, hooking your finger behind yet another button of his shit. "Tell me, do you want this? Do you want me?", your eyes meet his, and for a moment you two just look at one another. "I...", the spymaster mumbles but it's no longer the flustered stutter. There's something more. You pull away instantly, climbing off of his lap, and now it's Azriel who is suddenly confused.
"I don't get you. You stalk me all around the place, but you just", you gesture to him, shaking your head, "When I get close to you, you go all ridged as if you stank of shite." How could he not? You were the woman of every man's dreams. "I... just...you", Azriel was trying so hard to make his head snap into place. "I, I. You, you. What the heck is going on with you?" you whine in frustration. Azriel runs his hand through his hair, taking a couple more breaths. "I bloody fancy you; that's what's going on. You just messed up my brain waves. I can't think," he blurted out, now standing right in front of you. Your eyes fall on him again. You can practically see his heart beating extremely quickly in his chest.
"Ain't I an Autumn scum?", "No, I was so stupid. Those words have been eating me alive," Azriel says, reaching for your hand, and you let him take it. The silence falls onto the room again, but this time it's not that uneasy kind. "So... all this time you were just acting like a teenager?" Azriel rolls his eyes at your words, yet he can't deny it; his actions weren't all that mature. "You're not quite a regular female, what do you expect?", "True... Tired of males drooling anyways, this is way more entertaining", you hum, smiling up at Azriel.
 "Am I... Are we...fuck", the shadow singer shakes his head at his stutter, but you only giggle softly, "Me, you, I, yes, we can continue", going on your tippy toes, you wrap your hands around his neck bringing him closer to yourself. Azriel gently taps your bum, signaling for you to jump up, and you do just that. His hands host you closer to his body. "You stutter mid-strokes too?", a smirk on your face was way too big for Azriel's liking. "Be careful with your words. I have the biggest wingspan for a reason, vixen."
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heliads · 2 months
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Hey babe, if you're still taking requests, can I request something for Harry Hook from descendants? It takes place in an AU where basically all the kids are "chosen" to be parts of fairytales. (Think Ever After High mixed with School for Good and Evil). This world is complete with everything you see in disney movies with epic fights and songs. Heroes get love ballads and villains get traditional villain songs. Reader and Harry are friends (with feelings) on the isle and get chosen for a story, and are both super excited because they think they'll both be villains together. So imagine their surprise when they get their first song together and it sounds an awful lot like a love song.
This AU has been living in my head for a long time tbh but I have no writing skills T-T. Feel free to ignore it this is not your style or I accidentally sent this after requests closed.
'one story leads to another' - harry hook
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On the Isle of the Lost, a story is everything. Receiving a good story catapults a promising villain into a fantastic life of infamy, but a lackluster story seals your fate forever to menial satisfaction alone. Henchmen, not gods. Lackeys and thugs, never the criminal boss in charge.
Then again, a worse fate still could befall you. Many would-be villains go their whole lives without receiving a story. They’re not meant for everyone, at all, even if they mean the difference between a true life or a false existence. You can’t fathom training your whole life just to go without, but it’s the reality for many on your island. Even the deck swabbers get to go on exciting adventures with the great pirates of the sea, and even the lowliest prison guard will still live in a cursed palace.
The story controls your life, both literally and figuratively. Once you’re given a story, you’ll have no choice but to follow it out, even if it ends with your death. Then again, a story isn’t over in a matter of days. It’ll shape your life for decades. Even if the main plot is over, you’ll still be someone, and maybe you’ll feature in other people’s stories, too. There’s no way to make it without a story.
That’s why you’ve been throwing yourself into the pursuit of becoming the main character of your own story. You’ve perfected the arts of all things villain– sword fights that always end with you pulling a secret dagger out of a sleeve to tip the scales in your favor, maniacal laughter, elaborate plotting. You could scheme in your sleep or double-cross a traitor with your hands tied behind your back. Although it’s been a long time in the making, everyone on the Isle can admit that you’re the best of the best, and that a story surely has to be coming your way.
The problem, then, is attracting one. Although no rules are set in stone, there are expectations for how one’s story will come about. There will be an inciting event, of course, and then the songs will begin to appear in your head, the footwork and movements placed in your memories without a second thought. You’ll know you’re in the story, and then your life will change forever.
You’ve already seen one play out with some of your closest friends. Mal, one of your best friends since you were kids, got to live out her nefarious dreams, although even she didn’t see the twist coming in her story. Then again, becoming queen of Auradon is certainly a fine trophy for the child of a villain, even if a true marriage of love isn’t quite the way anyone expected her to steal the crown.
Mal has assured you many times over that your story will be coming too, it has to. There’s no way the magic would skip over you, not when you’ve dedicated so much of your life to being the perfect villain for any role. You can lie and cheat and maim with the best of them, surely you’re shaping up to be the arch nemesis in some hero’s grand journey? Your story will be coming your way. Surely. Surely.
And then, all of a sudden, it does. You feel it like a puppet knows its strings. All of a sudden, you have a purpose that you didn’t before. Your feet carry you out of the training yard and out into the sprawling mess of streets that makes up the Isle of the Lost. Your heart soars, and you take to the roofline, staring out at the world before you. It’s yours, all yours, and you know it’s true, so you sing it. The words come to you in a flash, perfect rhymes curling around your tongue as if they’d been there all your life. 
This is what it feels like to be in a story, then. It feels right, more right than anything you’ve known before. Easier than breathing. Simpler than hoping that something like this would come your way, and at last, it has. Nothing could make your flinty heart more proud.
The song ends, and you can hear a ghost of a distant chorus fading out as you make your way back to the ground once more. Your stroll is casual, but the steps are definitely in a specific direction. The last notes fade from the air, your feet stop firmly in place, and you realize that you’re not facing down a potential heist or daring escape but the end of the dock leading into the sea. Directly in front of you lies a pirate ship. 
At first, you’re thrilled– an adventure on the high seas would be fantastic. You’re friends with many of the pirates, even if you haven’t yet gotten a chance to test your fortitude against seasickness before. You cast your mind back to the words you’d just sung, trying to remember if you’d chorused anything about an exciting voyage ahead, or maybe the possibility of sunken treasure.
Instead, your heart sinks as you realize you were talking about exploring what was right in front of you. More specifically, someone right in front of you. And, as you stare with no small amount of trepidation at the pirate ship in front of you, you discover that someone else seems to be in a similar situation as you. Someone who’s just stopped singing a very similar song, who’s standing directly opposite you as if placed there by some immortal hand. Someone you know already.
Someone like Harry Hook.
A belated understanding is beginning to nestle itself between your ribs like a knife in the heart. No, this can’t be. You refuse to believe it. Still, when Harry is the first one to make a move, and walks briskly down the gangplank to stand in front of you, and says in an increasingly cavalier tone, “So, you’ve got your story started too, haven’t you?”
“Harry,” you say weakly. “I didn’t realize that you’d also gotten a song.”
“More than a song,” he says grimly. “I’ve got the whole story.”
You stare at him. “You know how it’s going to end?”
Harry had been doing his best to keep his gaze firmly pinioned on a nearby wall, but his eyes flicker briefly, traitorously, over to you when you pose the question. They snap back immediately, though. For a pirate, he’s never been the best liar, although he tends to make up for it with excellent swordsmanship. “No one knows how their story is going to end until they follow it through.”
You narrow your eyes crossly at him. “But you have a guess, don’t you? Spit it out, Hook. I don’t have all day.”
“Actually,” Harry contradicts, seeming to take great joy in the opportunity to be bothersome, “you do have all day. You’re a part of a story now, love. Your whole life is going to be wherever the wind takes you.”
You roll your eyes. “Thanks, Harry. Very helpful. Don’t try to dodge the question, though. You know how this is going to end, right?”
He sighs. “I have an inkling. Very vague. Probably untrustworthy.”
“All pirates are untrustworthy,” you remind him.
He grins broadly, sharklike. “And all children of villains are saints like you, of course.” He groans at your exasperated expression. “Fine, fine. Although I’d suggest you get better at pretending you like playing my little games if you’d like to keep this up.”
Your eyes widen. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve guessed it already, haven’t you?” Harry says testily. “Think about the songs, Y/N. The melody. That wasn’t a villainous monologue, not even your basic pledge for debauchery and ruin. That was a love song.”
You shake your head frantically. “No, Harry. That was so not right. What is that supposed to mean?”
“Well,” Harry says slowly, “I ‘spose it means we’re meant to fall in love.”
You draw back so quickly that you think you’ve insulted him. “No. Absolutely not. No offense, Harry, but I don’t want to fall in love with you.”
“I’ll try not to let it go to my head,” he says dryly.
You wave a hand dismissively. “It’s not about you, I swear. It’s just– this was supposed to be my story, you know? My whole life. I was supposed to have a glorious adventure, or engage in fantastic battles, but I get one chance at a story and it’s about falling in love? No way. I won’t accept this.”
“You’re acting like I enjoy this too,” Harry retorts. “Quite the contrary, sweetheart. You’re not the only one who’s been dreaming about their story for ages. How do you reckon I’m meant to tell my father that I got a love story? He’d laugh at me so hard he’d probably stop getting scared of that crocodile once and for all. I’m just as unhappy with this as you are, but I’m willing to do something about it.”
You eye him cautiously. “Like what?”
“Let’s play along,” he suggests, and when you look like you’re going to snap at him, he raises his hands defensively and adds hastily, “I know, I know, but hear me out, will you? The faster we get things going, the sooner this ends. You know as well as I do that characters from other stories can take part in other ones, too. ‘Sides, maybe this one isn’t just a love story. Maybe we do travel somewhere exciting, we just don’t know it yet. You don’t have to fall in love with me, alright? We can pretend. We’ll sing our songs, then do whatever we want with our hearts. Me, I’m planning to show my strength by carving mine out of my chest and wearing it as a necklace. It would make a pretty pendant, I wager. Plus, all the crew would be awestruck over it.”
You can’t help but laugh at his words. “Harry, if you cut your heart out, you’d die. If you want a necklace like that, use one of your enemies’ organs.”
He nods appreciatively. “That might work better, I think.” Then, eyeing you apprehensively, “So, does that mean you’re willing to do it? To play along with our story?”
You sigh. “I think it does. It’s not like we have any choice, do we?”
Harry pulls a face. “A girl is cosmically destined to fall in love with me, and in the heat of the moment of her confession, she says it’s because she doesn’t have any choice. Be still, my heart.”
This makes you smile. “You know it’s not personal, Harry. We’ve been friends for ages, I should hope you know when I’m teasing.”
“And I should hope the same,” he says with mock solemnity, although his faux stony demeanor cracks with a wide grin within moments.
You hold out your hand for him to shake. “To falling in love?”
“To falling in love,” he says, and shakes it. So the story begins.
You’re not going to say that it’s difficult, pretending to be in love with Harry Hook. You’ve never had an issue with his company; he’s one of your oldest friends, all of the villain kids on or around the Isle of the Lost have come in contact with each other before, and you and Harry just so happened to cross paths more than a few times. In fact, you’d go so far as to say that if you were forced to sing love songs with any of the villainous children on this island, Harry would be your preferred choice.
And– the problem with that, see, is that it makes this whole thing sound like something it isn’t. You’re not in love with Harry, even if your story seems designed to make you think otherwise. You know how you felt about him before the story began, and a couple of ditties about finding something special in a person you previously overlooked isn’t going to change anything. Harry is your friend. Nothing more than a potential ally.
But then the story takes you two away from the island for a spell, the two of you co-captaining a small sailing vessel by yourselves in search of a magical talisman that would have the power to make every one of your days enchanting. You had assumed it would be a talisman of some sort, that is; yet when the two of you arrived at the hiding place of this supposed treasure and split up to each pursue one length of a split crossroads, your paths looped around so you came face to face with each other again. 
No artifacts, no charms. Just Harry almost stumbling into you, having to wrap one arm around your waist so you don’t fall, his chest rising and falling rapidly as if he’d been running in an attempt to beat your time. You’d chastise him for it were it not for the fact that you were sprinting, too. You wait for Harry to let you go, but he doesn’t, and instead leans closer, so close you can feel his breath hot on your cheek, and then–
You pull away quickly. Harry looks at you like a wounded dog, which makes you feel sick to your stomach. “No,” you say through gritted teeth. “This isn’t– this isn’t us. It’s the story.”
“Is it really just the story?” Harry asks you.
“Yes,” you say, refusing to consider any other option for a second. “You didn’t love me before it started. The magic is messing with our minds. This isn’t real, Harry.”
He starts slowly walking towards you, and afraid you’ll make a mistake you’ll regret once the story ends, you back up in turn, up until the point when your back hits a wall and you can go no further. Harry, however, has nothing in his way but you, and there is nothing to stop him from closing the gap between you once again.
“Tell me it’s not real,” he says lowly.
“It’s not real,” you repeat.
His hand rises to your chin, tilting it up so you have to look in his eyes. He drinks in the sight of you like he’s been marooned alone for days, like salt water has been his only benediction for as long as he can remember. “Tell me,” he says again.
“It’s not,” you insist, but your conviction is gone, drifted away from you on uncertain tides. “It’s the magic. Not us.”
“Not us?” He asks, and kisses you. Slowly, terribly slowly, he kisses you, and in between silently begging him to move faster, do more, you think about all the times you’ve been under a spell in the past, and how this feels nothing like that. Not at all. Whenever you’re under an enchantment, some small part of you knows it’s wrong, giving you just enough hope that you might be able to fight free.
When you kiss Harry, though, you don’t want him to stop. Not at all. Every single particle in your body is beating along to the same erratic pulse through your veins, the one that leans into his touch, reaching for the front of his salt-stained shirt to pull him ever closer to you. If this is your story, you don’t ever want it to end. If there is a writer out there somewhere, feverishly scribbling out your chapters, you hope they never cease, that every one of their movements until the day they die and then past that will bring you more moments with Harry, moments just like this one in which you never have to let him go.
“It’s not just the story,” you tell him amidst ragged breaths when he finally breaks away.
“No?” Harry asks, one brow quirked. Usually, he’d never pass up the chance to gloat, but he looks sorely disheveled, and he can’t take his eyes off of your kissed lips long enough to give him the chance to revel in his victory like he normally would.
Just in case, though, you distract him from the triumph by kissing him again. Somewhere in the surrounding uncharted territory, the waves crash against the shore, the seabirds wheel and sing on the marine breezes, and you find the magic in the one boy who has always been there for you, and always will be, even after your story ends. That is the magic of love, you suppose. Adventures come to a close. Battles are won, heists are accomplished, but what you and Harry share will go on forever. A fitting legacy for the best two villains who ever lived.
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spideystevie · 1 year
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💘 hellooo, i’m so excited for your valentine’s house party! so here’s my prompt, hope you feel inspired w this one bc it’s giving me butterflies tbh “trying to hide a blush in the mornings because their morning/sleepy voice is a little too nice to listen to” from the fourth list with our guy rooster <3 idk why but roommate!rooster just hits real hard for me
this prompt was sooo cute and so real, i was so excited to write it. roommate!rooster hits hard for me too anon! and i hope i did him justice <3 - [0.7k] | join the party!
You weren’t too keen on the idea of a roommate initially. Especially when you had only just recently moved to a new city. But your friend knew a friend who had a spare room you could have and the rent was cheaper than anywhere else you’d looked. 
When you moved in, you hadn’t expected your roommate to be so, well, pretty. He was tall, his skin a golden sunkissed shade and his hair looked equally so. His eyes were warm and inviting like his smile and he had a neatly trimmed mustache sitting just above the curve of his upper lip. 
Your friend had also neglected to mention that he was a naval aviator. You weren’t sure why the fact that he flew around in giant, expensive hunks of metal for a living made him the slightest bit more attractive to you. 
Rooster, as your friend knew him, had come to prove himself to be arguably the best roommate you’d ever had. You hadn’t quite expected that. In fact, you had mentally prepared yourself that he’d be messy and gross and awful just to be pleasantly surprised in the end. 
The one downfall that came to living with Rooster was that goddamn voice of his in the morning. You could handle the low hanging sweats or plaid pajama pants and tight fitting black t-shirts he’d wear, just barely. But his voice in the morning almost felt like a deal breaker. 
Maybe you were just being dramatic. But hearing him say your name through a yawn and wish you a good morning with his voice shrouded in sleep was enough to have you falling to the floor.
Okay, you were definitely being dramatic. 
It’s a Saturday morning and you’ve woken up before him which is unusual. You use it as an opportunity to make the two of you breakfast, feeling ambitious when you find the pancake mix in the cupboards. The sun’s fully above the horizon, birds chirping outside the windows when you hear him come down the hall. 
He’s wearing plaid pajama pants this morning and an old navy t-shirt that seems to fit smaller than it once did. He yawns and tries to stifle it with one of his fists. A pinch forms between his eyebrows when he sees you cooking in the kitchen. 
“Morning, Rooster,” you greet, flipping a pancake on the griddle. There’s still traces of sleep on his face as he passes by to the coffee machine, the smallest smile on his face. 
“You know you can call me Bradley, right?” he asks and there it is. His voice is thick, still heavy from a good night’s sleep. It’s almost gravelly, rough around the edges and a notch deeper than usual. You chew on the inside of your cheek. As much as it drove you insane, it was almost too sweet to listen to. 
“Right. Bradley,” you say. You’re trying to fight off the rapidly arising butterflies in your stomach purely just from the sound of his morning voice. He comes to stand by you just as you’re sliding the pancakes off the griddle and onto a clean plate nearby. 
The proximity is making your heart race and you hope he can’t hear it. 
“These for me?” he asks. You glance at him briefly and then at the small stack of pancakes and nod, smiling at him. You can feel a heavy warmth rising in your face and up to your ears, down to your chest at the sound of his voice. God, you needed to get a grip. 
Bradley picks up the plate and in a split second decision, presses a chaste kiss against your cheek, his lips soft and his mustache brushing against your skin. It’s over as soon as it starts but it sets your heart and mind ablaze.
You freeze for a moment and your face feels scalding now. You hope he couldn’t tell just how warm your skin was when he kissed it. 
He sits at one of the kitchen barstools, facing where you stand pouring the rest of the pancake batter onto the griddle for your own breakfast. A pleased groan gets caught in his throat when he takes a bite. 
“This is so good,” he praises and you press your lips together to contain a grin. Your chin tucks against your chest only just, hoping it’ll hide whatever kind of blush or bashful look you’ve got right now.
His eyes twinkle as he looks at you, unbeknownst to you, a smile toying at his lips.
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